by Lord Goodfella

This series uses a combination of characters, situations, and vehicles based upon the Star Wars and Star Trek sagas, Earth: Final Conflict, JAG, the WWE, and characters of my own creation, the Sanders family. All characters and vehicles used are for the sole intent of storytelling and not for profitable gain for myself.  All of the characters except for the ones created within the established premise are the sole property of the individuals listed below.

Many thanks to George Lucas, Gene Roddenberry, CBS officials, and Vince McMahon for creating a host of wonderful characters that will live in the hearts and minds of fans for years to come.

Rated PG for some mild language.  This is a crossover series melding the Star Wars and Star Trek universes together in possibly the largest joint fan-fiction series ever.

Redemption – Volume 1:  Sacrifices

Summary

The year is 2035. Earth is on the brink of a climatic battle with a terrifying enemy from an unknown galaxy.

The United States’ military, undermanned and outgunned after nearly twenty years of war with it foes, prepares for the worse. The enemy has entered Earth’s solar system, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake while pushing relentlessly toward yet another conquest.  Even if every nation puts aside their differences and join forces, Earth would have no chance.

Only one man has the power and ability to claim victory. A hero from the past, cryogenically frozen for a crime he did not commit, will return to a new world…a world in need of a miracle.

_____________

Prologue
————-

Four years earlier…

General James Dennison, a handsome, dark-haired man at fifty-five, looked up from the book when the door to his office opened.  His aide poked his head through the door.  “Sir, Chief Warrant Officer Sanders is here.”

Dennison smiled as he dog-eared the page he was reading and closed the book, sitting it on his desk.  “Send him in, Ensign.”

The door opened wider, and CWO5 Michael Sanders, bedecked in his green Alpha uniform with barracks cover tucked under his left arm, marched into the office and stopped a foot short of the desk at attention.  He focused on a spot six inches above Dennison’s head.  “Sir, Chief Warrant Officer Sanders reporting as ordered.”

Dennison nodded and gestured to the seat to Sanders’ right.  “Take a seat, Chief.”

Once Sanders was situated in his chair, Dennison grinned.  “You are a sight for sore eyes, Mike.”

Sanders shot a grin back.  “It’s good to see you too, sir.  How’s Sandy?”

“Oh, she’s fine, though she’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off.”  He rose from his chair and walked around to the front of the desk where he took the second chair beside Sanders.  “Jessica’s getting married in a month.”

Sanders’ eyes widened.  “Really?  To whom?”

“An Air Force captain stationed at the Pentagon.  Bit of a crack head if you ask me.”  He reached for the humidor and pulled out two cigars and a lighter.  Passing one to the chief, he took the other and ran it under his nose before lighting it.

“I’ve always hoped that one day you and Jes would have hooked up.”

Sanders smiled.  “I’ve told you before.  I wouldn’t feel right having Jes as a wife.  She’s more my best friend than anything.  I want to keep it that way.”

He leaned closer to Dennison and spoke in a conspiracy-like tone.  “Besides, she’s not the only one who made the big decision.”

Dennison looked at Sanders like he was speaking upside down until Sanders held up his left hand, showing the general his platinum wedding band for the first time.  It was Dennison’s turn to be shocked.

“Well I’ll be damned.”  He set the cigar in the ashtray on the desk and turned to get a better view of the ring.  “Who’s the lucky woman?”

“Her name’s Alicia Coleman.  I met her at Pensacola last year.  A friend of mine who’s a JAG lawyer went to law school with her a few years ago.  He introduced me to her at a party she threw for her kid sister.”

Dennison smiled.  “And to think I knew deep down you would never marry Jes, but to think you would marry period?  This … this is incredible.  Why wasn’t I invited?”

Sanders accepted the lighter Dennison offered him.  You were in Yemen, remember?  I called you to ask what you were doing about a month ago.”

“Oh yeah.  I remember.”  Dennison laughed as he rose from the chair and went back around to his desk.  “Well, congratulations.  Jes and Sandy will be thrilled.  Where’s the lucky lady now?”

“Still in Pensacola, but she’ll be up here tomorrow.”  Sanders lit his cigar and tossed the lighter to Dennison, who caught it and placed it back in the humidor.

“Well, sir.  You got me up here in a bunch of secrecy.  What’s the scoop?”

Dennison nodded.  “You know the Federation is starting to augment Armed Forces members into Starfleet.”

Sanders nodded.  “Yeah.  I heard.  Steve Austin received a letter of commission but turned it down.  Said he hates space travel.”

“Don’t we all,” said Dennison.

Sanders did not reply, causing Dennison to sit up in his chair.  “You received one, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And what did you say?”

“I haven’t decided yet.  The thing that got me was they wanted to give me a major’s rank, which doesn’t really match up with my time in service.”

Dennison held up a folder.  “Well, I saw that same letter you got and I sent it back to them with a nice note saying that they needed to get you a higher rank.  They agreed with me.”

Sanders took a nice pull from his cigar.  “So, what am I?  Lieutenant Colonel?  Colonel?”

“How about admiral?”

Sanders choked on the smoke he inhaled.  “Admiral?”

Dennison set the folder on the desk and tapped it with his forefinger. “We’re giving away a Medal of Honor winner and one of the greatest men who ever donned the uniform of a Marine.  You think I was going to let you waltz over to Starfleet as a lowly major?”

Sanders smiled as he took a more cautionary puff of his cigar.  “No, I didn’t think so, sir.”

Dennison leaned forward.  “I’d hate to lose you.  But I know you would rather be warping around the cosmos than hanging around looking into my ugly mug.”

Sanders laughed as Dennison rose from his chair and stretched out his hand.  “Congratulations on your appointment, Admiral Sanders.”

*********

Present Day.

Admiral Michael Sanders stood by a window outside of Courtroom One, slowly sipping coffee while staring at the Friday afternoon traffic going up Interstate 395 past the Pentagon.  He thought back to the day he received his appointment from the late Marine Corps legend.

If only the old man could see how I turned out, he thought to himself.

“Honey, are you all right?”

Sanders turned around and stared at his wife, sitting on a bench a few feet away; so quiet he almost forgot she was there. How could I, he thought. This is the love of my life. “I’m fine, Alicia. Just…just wishing I was far away from here.”

Alicia Coleman-Sanders got up and walked towards her husband. “I know. I was wishing the same thing — for both of us. Actually,” she said, smiling a little and looking down at her swollen belly, “I was wishing for all five of us.”

Sanders smiled, a genuine smile at his wife, his lover, and his best friend. He reached out to her midsection but stopped until his hand was less than two inches away. Slowly he closed his eyes and reached out again, not with his hand, but with the mysterious power he had.

He had no clue of what power he possessed until just after his twelfth birthday.  His father was working underneath a car when the jack gave way, pinning him to the ground.  The screams forced Michael to come out of the house running with tears in his eyes at the sight.

He immediately went to the jack but it was a mixture of broken gears and screws on the ground. As he moved his hundred pound frame to the front of the car in an obviously futile attempt to pick the car up with his bare hands, he visualized the car easing off of his father’s broken body.

The car eased off of his father’s broken body five feet into the air..

Michael was shocked at the sight. Shocked because he was not even touching the car.

As he dragged his father from underneath, he looked into his eyes. “Dad?  Dad?  Can you hear me?”

His father’s eyes fluttered opened. They slowly focused on Michael as they both rested on the ground together.

His father whispered something. Michael strained to hear the words.  “What did you say, Dad?”

His father smiled. “I knew you could do it, son.” He reached out for Michael’s hand and patted it one time before closing his eyes for the last time.

Michael did not know what his father meant for years, but he slowly began to understand and respect the power he had. The telekinesis.  The augmented strength.  The ability to see into the future and into the past.  His fighting ability.  The power to sense others like him.

Like his unborn children.

He could feel his daughter resting peacefully in her mother’s womb. Her twin sister was also resting quietly, but kicking slowly with her right foot.

But where is my son? He probed past his daughters to the back where — There he is, he thought with an inner smile. Back to the world, not caring about anything. The smile he felt on the inside slowly changed into sadness matching what he displayed on his face. I hope he turns out to be better than his old man, he thought.

“Admiral?”

Sanders shook himself out of his reverie and turned towards the sound of the voice. “Top, what is it?”

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” said Master Gunnery Sergeant Ronald “Rico” Torres, Judge Advocate General Chief, a veteran of the Persian Gulf conflict over twenty years ago, and one of the heroes of the Iraqi War that finally toppled Saddam Hussein last year. He was once considered for change of rank to sergeant major by the Commandant of the Marine Corps so he could be the top enlisted Marine. He turned it down, telling Sanders over a few beers one night that “with all due respect, I cannot in my right frame of mind take that Washington traffic every day for four years straight.”

Alicia, whether she was Force-trained or feeding off of her unborn children’s growing power, could sense something wrong in Top’s demeanor. “Ron, what’s wrong?”

Top looked at the Sanders, his face slowly searching for a way to pass his news, but Sanders slowly laid his hand on his shoulder. “Ron, it’s okay. Tell me.”

Top looked a little relieved, but it was still hard. Harder than the gold in Hussein’s underground bunker. “I got word back from Austin’s trial in Quantico. Guilty on all counts.”

“Oh no,” said Alicia. She put her hand to her mouth to cover her shock. “I thought his attorney was trying to work a deal with the JAG prosecutor.”

“Austin maintained his innocence, from what Commander Rabb just passed to me over my global,” said Top. “He was not hearing any deal, despite what his counsel and Colonel McKenzie was telling him”

Alicia looked up at that piece of news. “No new evidence?” She looked at Sanders. “I heard they were trying to submit those logs you kept of your briefings.”

“I don’t think so, but –” Top stopped as a beeping sounded off from Alicia’s purse. All three looked at each other in silence.

Alicia slowly reached inside her and drew out the culprit — her global communicator. She stepped away from her husband’s side and spoke softly a few feet away.

Sanders looked at Top Tyler. “What about sentencing? Are they going for life again?”

Top shrugged. “Harm told me that they’re holding off sentencing until after your trial. Probably waiting to see if they can kill two birds with one stone.”

Sanders clenched his fists together until his knuckles cracked. “I can’t go to the brig, Ron,” he said, a look of despair etched in his face while looking at Alicia, who was still conversing in a low whisper on her cell.

“Do you see that woman over there? She is carrying my children. Our children. Two girls and a boy. I have to be around.”

Top looked at his friend eight who was eight years his junior. “I know, Mike. I know. Your wife is not a pushover, though. She has done some amazing things in that courtroom that would make Matlock and Perry Mason spin.” He smiled, mustering a look of confidence. “As much as Harm and I were ticked you didn’t ask one of us for representation, we are quite impressed with the job Alicia has done in there. Colonel McKenzie’s impressed, too.”

“Well, I hope she is impressed,” said Sanders, angrily shaking his fist at his side. “Good impressions of felons’ wives as their lawyers are points in the felons’ favor. Right, Top?”

Top shot Sanders a look that would pierce the moon. “Don’t even start like that, Sanders. The colonel didn’t want to go after Steve because she knew of his history. The order came from above to bring him down.”

Alicia finished up her conversation and slowly put her global in her bag, her back still turned to Sanders and Top while looking out of the window. “Ron, could you excuse us, please?” she said.

“Sure, anything you say, Alicia,” said Top. He turned to Sanders. “I’ll find out everything I can about Steve and pass it on to you, okay?”

“Okay, Top. Thanks.” Top glanced at Alicia’s back as he turned and made his way down the hall to the cafeteria.

Sanders did not move towards his wife. With his power he could feel the emotions she was carrying inside of her. It felt a little different with his son and daughters’ spirits within her, but he was always able to recognize hers immediately. “Alicia, what’s wrong?”

Alicia continued to look out of the window. “Well, Commander Kidman called to let me know that the deal is back on the table, if you want to take it.”

“What do you propose?”

Alicia’s shoulders seemed to have drooped as she turned to face her husband.  “As your wife and mother of our three children, I would want to keep fighting to get you completely cleared.  As your counsel, I’d advise you to take it.  I still believe you have a chance to win, but with Austin being found guilty, I don’t know.”

Sanders looked down at her. Despite the love he had for the military, for the uniform he wore, and the rules that come along with it, he did not have a care in the world at this moment. No care except for the woman before him and the three delicate lives she carried within her. He simply wanted this to be over.

********

The courtroom was silent as Alicia Coleman-Sanders completed her closing statements and made her way back to her seat beside her husband. She was about to write on her well-worn notepad when she read up at the top…

You were great.

Alicia spared Sanders a quick glance and smile before turning serious again as Commander Eric Kramer began his closing statement. Time to pay attention to the mission at hand here, she thought.

Kramer, a tall, tanned, thirty-five-year-old Naval Academy graduate, stood before the seven general officers from the Navy and Marine Corps sitting before him. He looked each one in the eye before he began speaking, as if introducing himself by framing a mental picture in each officer’s mind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Counselor Coleman-Sanders brought up a very good fact.” He turned to point at Sanders sitting at the far table. “Here we have one of the greatest warriors the military has to offer. A Yemen War veteran, recipient of the Navy Cross, captain of the Federation flagship, and a possible candidate for the Joint Chiefs in six years. Military veterans are already labeling him as the next Colin Powell.”

“I respect Admiral Sanders for the service he and General “Stone Cold” Steve Austin have given this country. They would have been revered as legends in the next thirty years. They still might.”

Kramer paused as he slowly looked over the jury before starting again. “Admiral Sanders and General Austin are also aware of the Uniformed Code of Military Justice, as I am, and you all are, I am quite sure.

Kramer turned to face the Sanders’ table as he continued. “On November 1, 2009, Yemen was attacked, with General Austin leading the ground assault, while Admiral Sanders led the aerial attack with Mantis X-14s and the Rattler-class vessels.”

“The mission was two-fold: first objective was to provide a air COC in case Austin needed support, and also to maintain a vigil on Iraq’s neighbors to the south, in case they came to assist. The second objective was to pummel the area where the late Saddham Hussein’s underground bunker was located.” Kramer turned to face the jury. “Not to say you are ignorant of the issue here, but I said late.” He smiled. “I’ll talk about that in a minute.”

Kramer walked over to a poster-size map with the layout of the Iraqi conflict. “Admiral Sanders was to hold aerial reinforcements eight miles south of the location here,” he said, pointing to a spot south of the bunker. He had two orders from the JCS. One, women and children were not to be
harmed, and two, Hussein was to be brought in alive.”

Kramer moved his finger to a position two squares north of Sanders’ aerial location. “General Austin landed and proceeded up towards Hussein’s bunkers with mortar and Howitzer capabilities. They could have done their job with pinpoint accuracy from as many as two miles out without risking any of our Marines. Yet somehow –,” he moved his finger until it was practically on top of the bunker. “Austin and Sanders’ troops were out for blood, and ignored their orders and proceeded to not only kill our main prize,” he turned to face Sanders. “Saddam Hussein, but also one hundred and forty-six, one, four, six, people. Innocents of a killing spree by two men who obviously overstepped their bounds.”

Kramer went to his table where a young lieutenant handed him a piece of paper without being asked. Kramer slowly read it before continuing.

“This is Exhibit H, a list of Marine casualties on November 1. On this list I do not see one hundred and forty-six dead or wounded. I don’t even see 14. I see seven Marine casualties on that day. Three KIA’s and four MIA’s.”

Kramer kept speaking as he handed the copy to the judge. “Yes, they were wounded. Yes, we lost Marines, but did it justify breaching the peace by killing nearly 150 souls?”

Alicia could feel the blood boil within Michael. She reached over to grab his hand. Partly for reassurance.

Mostly for restraint. Just in case.

“General Austin was convicted of breach of peace, conduct unbecoming, and disobedience of a direct order from the President of the United States, one step below treason,” said Kramer. “Admiral Sanders is facing these same charges. He is facing these charges because he believed the dead had weapons. We found no evidence to support this fact. Rules are made to be followed, not broken.”

Kramer strolled over to the defendant’s table until he stood next to Alicia. “Admiral Sanders has three children, triplets on the way. Dozens of men and women in Iraq are facing the rest of their lives without their children because he took parents from children or children from parents.  He destroyed families.  While I am not proposing to destroy his family, as the old law states, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”

***********

“All rise.”

Michael and Alicia immediately stopped their conversation and rose to their feet as Brigadier General Joseph Monroe walked into the courtroom and made his way to the bench.

The sergeant who sounded off for the admiral’s arrival waited until he was seated before saying, “Be seated.”

The courtroom followed the ordered of the sergeant and regained their seating as Gen. Monroe asked the jury foreman, “Have you reached a verdict?”

A vice-admiral, an Iraqi War veteran by the black and tan striped ribbon he wore, rose from the jury, a folded piece of paper in hand. “We have, Your Honor,” he said. He gave the paper to the sergeant, who delivered it to the general.

Alicia looked at Mike as he stared at the general. She held on to his hand for support, not knowing what he was thinking or feeling, but could tell that the emotions he is feeling inside are overwhelming even him.

Mike’s head suddenly dropped.

Alicia looked at him. “Mike,” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Mike slowly turned his head to where he can see his wife. “You’ll see.”

The paper has made its way back to the jury foreman. The judge then addressed the defendant and his counsel.

“Will the defendant please rise.”

Mike looked again at Alicia before rising from his chair. As he got up, some transformation was made. Where he looked sorrowful just seconds ago, he changed into the warrior he was known to be. Shoulders up, stomach in, head straight.

Like he wanted to be remembered.

The general turned his attention to the foreman. “Jury foreman, please read the verdict.”

The foreman rose and addressed the courtroom. “Admiral Michael J. Sanders, on the charge of murder, first degree, one hundred and forty-six counts, the court finds you…guilty.”

“On the charge of breaching the peace, the court finds you…guilty.”

“On the charge of conduct unbecoming an officer, the court finds you…guilty.”

“On the charge of disobeying a direct order from the President of the United States, the court finds you…guilty.”

The judge finished signing paperwork at the bench and addressed the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, this court thanks you for your diligence in this matter. You are excused.”

The seven officers rose and made its way to the side doors leading out of the courtroom. The judge waited until the doors were closed before speaking again.

“Sentencing will be held at 0800 tomorrow morning,” he said while looking at a piece of paper in front of him.

He then looked up at two armed Marine military policemen in the back. “Sergeant, take the admiral into custody.”

Alicia was up out of her chair before the admiral even finished speaking. “Your Honor, I would like to appeal the verdict.”

General Monroe looked at Alicia like she was crazy. “On what grounds?” said the judge.

Alicia stood her ground. “Your honor, my client and General Austin have said time and time again that their troops were being fired upon. I have brought forth evidence saying there was a videotape that would make their claim true. Somehow between Iraq and Washington that tape came up missing. Prosecution has not denied knowing it exists, even though I admit he has not viewed the tape.”

She slowly moved away from behind the table. “The evidence exists, Your Honor, and if it ‘mysteriously disappears,’ this court has to admit there is some sort of conspiracy here that is aiming to convict my client.”

Commander Kramer now rose from his chair and made his way to the front. “Not so, Counselor. I admit the tape exists, Your Honor, but I do not have it. I have not seen it. No one has seen it except for whoever was in Iraq, and those two have just been convicted.” He glanced over his shoulder at Admiral Sanders who was still standing, with the two sergeants standing close by. “There is no way that even if this tape was here, it would exonerate the admiral.”

General Monroe steepled his fingers until they pointed at Alicia. “Do you have any idea where this tape is?”

Alicia’s shoulders drooped slightly, but Mike felt his wife’s pain as intense as if he was standing close to a fire. “No, Your Honor.”

“Then this trial is over,” said the judge. He signaled to the sergeants who were trying to stay hidden in the back and not be noticed by the 6′ 6″ admiral.

Mike stood at attention until the closest sergeant reached him with handcuffs. “Sir,” he said, “if you please…”

Mike looked at the sergeant, who looked like he lost his best friend. “Give me a minute.” He turned to his wife, who moved closer to her husband as if it would be the last time they would be together.

“You put up a good fight,” said Mike. He wiped a tear from Alicia’s cheek, shaking his head, conveying the unspoken message to his wife. No emotion. There is peace. We do what we must.

Mike then turned to the two sergeants waiting behind him and slowly raised his hands together.

“I’m ready.”

********

“I still don’t think life will do it.”

Commander Kramer looked up from his notes at the Marine standing by the window, looking out at the bugler signal Taps from the flagpole. “I don’t want to kill them, sir,” he said. “Hell, I didn’t even want to pursue the prosecution. Did you see The Times today?” He held up a copy of the front section of the newspaper. “In the editorial section several Marines who don’t even know Sanders or Austin wrote that what was done in Iraq was necessary, and that a conviction would only state that the military’s uses are limited to the government’s pleasure.”

Colonel Thomas “Mad Dog” Knight, Chief of Staff for the Commandant of the Marine Corps, turned around from the window to stare at Kramer for what seemed like a lifetime. Kramer stared back evenly.

Finally Knight spoke. “Commander, I don’t want to hang Admiral Sanders or General Austin out to dry.” He walked to a closed door separating the upstairs foyer from the office of the Commandant. “Do you know what he’s doing in there now? He is talking to the Secretary of Defense about what to do with them, while at the same time preparing for any repercussions from Iraq’s allies.”

Knight walked over and picked up the newspaper Kramer laid down beside him on the leather antique sofa, left as a gift to the oldest continually used building in Washington by the last Commandant, General Walter Stillman.

“These comments our Marines stated are true,” said Knight. “Believe me when I say what Austin and Sanders did had to be done. I believe them if they said they were fired upon with weapons not initially identified in Intel reports and our recons.”

He dropped the newspaper back on the sofa. “However, we have our orders. We must think of the safety of our nation first, and try to repair the damage that has been done.”

“And that is exactly what we plan on doing, Tom.”

At the first sign of the new voice, both Knight and Kramer both turned to its direction and snapped to attention, Kramer spilling his notes to the floor in the process.

General Raymond Tucker, leaning against the doorframe of his office, raised his hand before they finished. “Not necessary, gentlemen. You’re in my house, remember?”

Both men dropped the stiffness from their stance as Tucker turned and led them into his office. A television beside the large oak fireplace was set to Washington’s local news station, describing the latest developments on the Austin-Sanders case.

Tucker went to the bar and poured himself a drink while Knight and Kramer, scattered notes under his arm, settled themselves into chairs in front of the commandant’s desk.

“I just got off the phone with Secretary Wesley,” said Tucker as he dropped two ice cubes in his drink. He turned and walked behind the desk, dropping lazily into his armchair.
“This entire case is ridiculous.”

Colonel Knight looked at Commander Kramer before speaking. “I agree, sir. However, it places the U.S. in a bad spot. Should we sacrifice two men to appease a nation we really have no positive dealings with in the first place?”

The general took a generous swig from his tumbler. “I don’t want to do it,” he said. “I have the honor of serving with General Austin on numerous occasions. He is an honorable man. For Admiral Sanders to be associated with him, that speaks volumes for his integrity.”

Commander Kramer slid to the front of his seat. “I know, sir. However, they were both convicted by a jury of their peers.”

Tucker looked at his glass. Time for another refill. “Yes, Commander. The secretary is aware of that.” He got up to go to the bar. “Therefore, we shall discuss sentencing.”

Knight and Kramer glanced at each other. “Of course, sir,” said Kramer. “I am going to suggest tomorrow that they are sent away for sixty years.”

Tucker filled his drink. “No.”

Knight was stunned into silence. “Begging the general’s pardon, but…”

Tucker waved off the rest of Knight’s reply. “No, I am not going to send them in front of a firing squad, either.” He moved, fresh drink in hand, back to his desk. “Here we have two men, ‘warriors,’ who have done this country a great service numerous times, and they have been found guilty of crimes against the government.”

A fax machine behind Tucker began printing a transmitted document. He turned and glanced at it, sighing with a look of resignation before pulling the copy from it.

“This generation has given up on them. Perhaps a new generation can use their talents in the future,” he said, as he passed the copy on to Knight.

Knight read the copy, looking at Tucker with a surprised expression before wordlessly passing the paper to Kramer.

Kramer had only to read the top half portion of the paper to realize what Tucker was talking about.

From the office of the Secretary of Defense.

To Gen. Raymond Tucker.

Ray;

The President and I have discussed what to do with Gen. Austin and Adm. Sanders, and while I pushed for a total dismissal of all charges and basically telling Iraq to go “screw themselves,” the President felt some course of action must happen to smooth relations between the U.S. and the Middle East.

However, he is not about to forget the service these two men have given this country. Their actions will forever be remembered, and if there no evidence exists that justifies their actions of a year ago, then we have no choice but to do this.

They will be cryogenically frozen for no less than fifty (50) years on the International Space Station. Iraq will be notified of their “executions” after the sentence has been carried out.

While I believe the actions taken by these men were justified, the President feels this course of action will lead to a calm peace between the U.S. and the Middle East.

V/R,

Jordan A. Wesley

********

At this point Mike Sanders did not care where he slept. After all the in-processing, the fingerprinting, the outfitting, he just wanted to go to sleep.

Stripped of his Alpha uniform, and wearing an orange jumpsuit, he was escorted down Processing Block by two MPs, carrying his blanket, pillow, and hygiene gear. Prisoners in their cells for the night looked through the bars, whispering amongst themselves why a living legend like Mike Sanders was in the brig.

Biggest thrill for them in weeks.

The MPs took him to the last cell on the end of the hall. It was already open and had one cot, a sink, toilet, and shelf. Nothing else.

Sanders started to walk in and stopped at the cell door. The MPs tensed, fingers itching for their tasers.

“Relax, Marines,” he said, feeling through his powers the tension both MPs felt. He walked in and dropped his gear on his cot. “This isn’t a post-trial confinement’s cell.”

One of the MPs, a lance corporal, responded, sounding a little relaxed by the admiral’s cooperation. “No, sir,” he said. “Because you’re getting sentenced tomorrow, we’ve been instructed to place you and the general in these cells for the evening.”

Sanders’ eyes lit up. “The general?”

A voice boomed from behind the MPs. “That’s right, the general, you fake squid.”

Sanders looked around the MPs to see a familiar sight. “Well, well, well. Noose didn’t fit that big red neck of yours?”

General Steven Austin stood up and looked through the bars of his cell, right across from Sanders’. “Nope,” he said with a smile. “They figure they’ll stretch it out for the both of us tomorrow.”

Sanders smiled, glad that even in these tough times, a familiar face was close by. It almost made him forget where he was.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Sanders looked down at the lance corporal for two heartbeats before he realized what he had done. He had practically stepped between the two MPs while talking to Austin.

“Oh, sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. He stepped back into his cell.

“Thank you, sir,” said the lance corporal, exhaling a relieved sigh. He pulled a control pad from his utility belt and touched some keys. The cell door slid shut, separating
Sanders from Austin, and Austin from Sanders…and both from a long hallway of freedom.

Sanders sat down on his cot, holding his head in his hands, listening to the footsteps gradually descending in the distance. After the steps stopped for what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “How’re you doing, Steve?”

Austin stood by the cell doors, arms hanging out. “Don’t worry about me, brother. I have no family. The only family I have is, well,” he snickered sarcastically. “is in the brig with me.” He looked down on the ground, as if looking for a crack in the dry cement. “The question is, how are you doing?”

Sanders did not look up. “I’m worried about Alicia more than you, more than me, more than anything right now.”

Austin looked up from his cell inspection, eyes of concern trained on Sanders. “How did she take the news?”

“She was still fighting the verdict as I walked out of the courtroom,” said Sanders. He finally looked up to look at the wall of his cell. Pieces of dried leftover tape were hanging from the walls, as well as inscriptions of past cellmates, claiming their innocence, sexuality, and violent nature. “I had time to wipe a tear, get handcuffed, and get out of there.”

Austin snorted. “Well, at least you had time to do that. Me, they had the handcuffs out before the verdict was even handed out.” He slid down to the floor beside the bars. “Face it, Sanders. We were set up.”

Sanders rose to face Austin, separated by two sets of bars. “I know, Steve. The thing is I can’t prove it.” He retreated slowly to the back of his cell. “That what bothers me.”

Austin stared at Sanders across the row, silent. “Is Alicia planning an appeal?”

“Yeah, because of that missing tape. The thing is, there’s no telling where it is.” He stared through the bars at his oldest friend as if imaging a space large enough for him to slide through. “If it’s destroyed, we’re finished.”

*********

Jennifer Coleman has never experienced pregnancy. After spending two weeks with her older sister, she made up her mind to be celibate for the rest of her life.

Almost from the second she stepped off the plane at Reagan-Clinton International Airport and met her sister, she could tell the past several weeks have been hell on her.

For two weeks, Jennifer had fielded from 0800 to 1800 as many as fifty telephone calls from publishers, reporters, and other Marines wishing the family well. Today the only phone call was from the correctional facility supervisor, telling Alicia she could bring her sister to view the cryogenic process.

At first Alicia played the gracious sister/host, welcoming Jennifer with open arms at the airport gate. She showed her the house and the new nursery, just completed before Mike was sentenced, and they sat in front of the fireplace and ate roasted marshmallows, Alicia listening as Jennifer describe her first semester at the University of North Carolina on a four-year ride for soccer, laughing hysterically that Mike would have thrown a party when they won the national tournament.

Jennifer noted that Alicia did not retreat into herself whenever Mike’s name was mentioned. She began to think her sister was holding up well.

0630 the next day signaled that was not the case when Jennifer, finishing her three-mile run, was past by her sister in her SUV on the road in front of the house without so much as a wave out of the window. Jennifer called her sister on the cell phone as soon as she stepped into the house.

“Jennifer, I honestly forgot you were here,” said Alicia. Jennifer was dumbfounded, but actually believed her.

And so it was like that for nearly two weeks. Alicia spent most of her waking hours between Quantico, the Pentagon, and her office in Alexandria, working on a new appeal for her husband. If Jennifer ever hoped to see her, it was late at night when Alicia strolls in, tired from another day of fruitless litigations.

Jennifer conveyed all of this to her mother in Florida, who quietly thanked her for being there for her sister.

“Your sister is not ignoring you on purpose,” said Maggie Coleman. “She is going through a tough time right now, and I’m confident she’ll make it. Mike was a pillar of strength in that house. Now you have to be one for her. Let her feed off of you.”

Now as they left the car in a lot overlooking the Anacostia River, Jennifer noticed a resounding calm in her sister, the first time since she flew into D.C.

“Al?” said Jennifer, calling her by her nickname. “Are you all right? You’re…different today.”

Alicia was lost in her thoughts during the walk. Finally she stopped and looked at Jennifer. “Jen, was I a total bitch the entire time you were here?”

Jennifer looked up at her big sis. “No, you weren’t.” She reached to pull Alicia’s long blonde hair from inside her jacket’s collar. “You just forgot family’s here with you in all of this, that’s all.”

Alicia smiled, and hooked her arm in Jennifer’s, and they continued on to the facility, a three-story former museum. “I know, and I’m sorry.” She sighed, as if a great weigh was about to be lifted from her shoulders. “My husband and I are about to be parents for the first time. You are about to be an aunt.”

Jennifer looked up at Alicia as she continued. “We always dreamed of having kids, watching them grow up, watching them have kids, be successful. Now he’s about to be frozen for a crime he didn’t commit for fifty years.”

“We may never see each other again. Our children will probably be grandparents by the time he’s released. He’ll miss a large chunk of their lives. He’ll live longer than they will, too.”

Alicia stopped again, this time less than a block from the facility’s entrance. News reporters, photographers, and cameramen are gathered out front, awaiting word of the sentence. Jennifer stopped as well, looking at her with a puzzled look.

“Mike is somewhere in there, wondering the same thing,” said Alicia. “It will break his heart if he sees me hurting.”

A shout rose up from the group of media, as they spotted the two Coleman sisters on the sidewalk. A few broke from the pack, heading in their direction.

Alicia looked down at the ground as the media mob came closer, and then looked at her younger sibling with a look of determination.

“Today I’ll be his pillar of strength…as you were mine.”

*********

Teri Tanner, beat reporter for Channel 4, the local NBC affiliate in Washington, was reading her statement for her live broadcast. She approved the text for transfer to the teleprompter, and stood by the news van looking at the gathered crowd outside the correctional facility

The sentence was slated to be carried out at 11 a.m., and barring any problems, the cases containing the bodies of Admiral Sanders and General Austin would be moved by armed escort to Andrews Air Force Base twenty minutes away. From there they would be transported to Cape Canaveral, Florida, where the next available space shuttle will take them to the ISS for storage.

From the van Teri watched as Counselor Coleman-Sanders and a younger woman with long red hair walked out of the building, escorted by two Marines to their vehicle. Alicia paused long enough to hand a tall, handsome Naval officer a folded sheet of paper before departing.

“Teri, we’re on in two minutes,” said the cameraman, jumping out of the van and double-checking his tripod mount.

“Okay, thanks,” said Teri. She reached through the passenger door window for her notepad sitting in the seat, preparing to go over last minute notes.

“Excuse me, Miss Tanner?”

Teri turned around at the sound of the voice. It was the same Naval officer she saw not even two minutes ago. “Yes, may I help you?”

“Yes you can,” said the officer. He reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, possibly the same paper Coleman-Sanders gave him.

“I have here a statement from the Sanders family. Mrs. Sanders noticed that you were here reporting, and she requested that you be given the chance to read this before it’s released to the rest of the media this afternoon.”

Teri unfolded the piece of paper. It barely covered a quarter of a page, typed, and single-spaced. “Um, Captain…”

“It’s Commander, ma’am. Commander Rabb.  I’m a friend of the family”

“Commander, maybe you can do something for me?”

The cameraman rushed up to Teri with a microphone in hand. “Fifteen seconds, Teri.” He thrusted the mike in her hands and went behind the camera.

“What can I do, ma’am?”

“Teri?” said the cameraman, a little nervous.

“Get me the exclusive with Alicia Sanders,” said Teri.

“Ten seconds.”

“She didn’t rule out talking to the media at a later date. I’ll have to relay your request to her.”

“All right.”

Teri turned around as the cameraman was counting “Five, four, three, two …”

Teri flashed a smile to the camera.  “Thanks, Paul. I’m standing less than a block away from the Naval Correctional Facility at the Washington Navy Yard, where the sentence has just been carried out on General Steve Austin, 36, former commanding general of the Second Marine Expeditionary Force out of Camp Lejeune, and Admiral Michael  Sanders, 33, former commander of the Federation Fleet, and Director of Personnel.

Both men were convicted earlier this month of nearly one hundred-fifty counts of murder in the so-called fiasco in Iraq last November, and three other charges.

Both men met with Father Clayton Ridges for prayer one hour before being escorted to the cryogenic chamber. General Austin, originally slated to go last, opted to go ahead, saying the admiral deserved a few more moments with his family.

General Austin was pronounced stabilized in suspended animation at 11:06 a.m. Admiral Sanders was prepared and stabilized in suspended animation at 11:18.

Sanders’ wife, Alicia Coleman-Sanders, could not be reached for comment, but she did leave a statement with me to read to our viewers. This same statement will be released to all this afternoon but this station is the first to have this on the air.”

Teri unfolded the paper and began reading silently to herself before looking up at the camera.  “This seems to be from the admiral himself,” she said.

“For over a year now I have been largely thinking when I went into Iraq, I went in and did the job to the best of my ability.

Many people did not like the way I did that job. I can’t say I liked it myself. I did not like it because Saddam Hussein’s death pushed our efforts to take over Iraq back three years.

Still, if I had an opportunity to do my job again, the only thing I would change is the fact that all of my Marines would have made it back. I would have gave the order myself for all the forces so Gen. Austin would not have to be in this predicament with me.

To my children; Alexandria, Alicia Nicole, and James Robert. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see you grow up into the special human beings I know you will be.  To my beautiful wife, my lover, my best friend. Watch over them.”

********

Three months later.

“Well, at least she picked a great time to come in,” said Dan Coleman, taking another swig from his Corona while looking at his youngest daughter. “Hardly anybody’s here.”

The two were sitting in a bar across from Gate 23A at Reagan-Clinton International Airport, awaiting the arrival of Alicia from yet possibly another fruitless trip to Yemen. This was her third one in two months, each time leaving with another clue that she hope would vindicate her husband and release from his prison in space, only to return empty-handed.

No one in the family knew Alicia was gone until three days ago, when Alicia sent a telegram to her parent’s house in Florida asking her father to meet her in Washington. Dan relayed the message to Jennifer, who just started preparing for her soccer season at UNC-Chapel Hill, and she decided, with her coach’s permission, to hitch a ride with her father to Virginia for the weekend.

Jennifer looked up from her study notes at her father with her “What the hell are you talking about” look that Dan has come to recognize and understand. “Dad, it’s 3:00 in the afternoon. This is the bewitching hour for travelers. A time when two or three hundred people at the same time decide
“This is when I want to fly.”"

Looking out at the main passageway where streams of men, women, and children were either leaving a gate or heading towards one, all at high rates of speed, she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling of the bar. “This place is packed.”

Dan looked around as well, but not as interested as Jennifer was. “Yeah, I guess.” He turned his attention to his beer bottle, now almost empty.

“You got another ten minutes before her plane lands, Dad,” said Jen, glancing at a clock over the bar. “Go ahead if you want.”

Dan slid the beer bottle away. “It’s not that.” He turned to look at Jen. “Do you think she found something this time?”

Jen cocked her head to the side in thought for a few seconds. “I don’t know,” she said. “This is totally unlike her, though. The first two times she told people where she was going and had all her cards laid out on a table. This time we didn’t know jack.”

Dan nodded. “That’s right, and I don’t think she would put the babies in danger if she didn’t have some type of clear-cut evidence that would get Michael off.” He turned his attention to the crowd outside the bar. “She’s almost due, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m thinking that something is totally different about this whole trip.” Jen closed her study notes and placed them in her backpack. “Her housekeeper said she didn’t even notice any evidence of clothing taken, except a small backpack.”

Dan’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s it?” he asked.

Jen nodded. “Yep, and she also told me that the day she left, she was going through some mail for about an hour. The housekeeper was outside smoking a cigarette when Alicia ran out of the house like a bat out of hell saying, “I’m going to the airport.” She thought she was going to pick up somebody.”

Dan heard the announcement on the loudspeakers blaring out the arrival of Flight 1030 from New York JFK to Washington — Alicia’s flight. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a five-dollar bill for his tab. Jen gathered her things as he placed the bill under the Corona bottle. Then he turned to his daughter.

“I hope, for all the risks she’s taking right now, that this time, this trip was worth it.”

Jen said nothing as they walked out of the bar and practically fought to cross the mass of people to get to the gate. By the time they had made it, the flight announcer had just opened the gate door where the first of the plane’s passengers began disembarking.

Dan scanned each face walking through the door until he focused on one he recognized. “Alicia!” he exclaimed.

Jen and Dan waited as Alicia, looking healthier than she ever looked in months, rushed up and grabbed them both in a tight embrace. “Oh my God, I didn’t think you would make it,” she said to her father as he reached down to kiss her cheek. She then turned to Jen. “And what are you doing here? I thought soccer was starting up soon.”

Dan saw the look before it even started forming on Jen’s face. “What do you mean, “What am I doing here?” Do you realize that you took off on one of your crazy trips three weeks away from your due date and without letting anybody know? Are you crazy?”

Alicia looked at her younger sister unfazed. “Yeah, but you will — ”

Jen was not done. “You’re carrying my nieces and nephewwithin you, Al.  Triplets.” By now she had pulled out of Alicia’s embrace and stood with her hands on her hips, squaring off.  “I know what you’re doing, but if you think for one second that I’m going to let you jeopardize their lives.”

“I got the proof,” Alicia blurted out.

Dan was still staring at Jen when Alicia managed to slide those words out, and the expression on Jen’s face shook him out of his reverie. He turned to Alicia. “You found it?”

Alicia nodded proudly.  “The one piece of evidence I’ve been needing for six months that no one could, or would come up with.”  She patted the large backpack she had slung over the shoulder.  “The surveillance footage for the Yemen stronghold.  It proves that Mike and Steve were in the right after all, and that they were fired upon first.”

Dan hugged his daughter, careful not to accidentally bump her swollen belly.  “How did you do it?”

Alicia glanced at her sister, still standing a few feet from them in shock, before replying.  “I made a contact on my first trip to Iraq back in December.  He used to work as an assistant to the chief of staff at the stronghold.  He wasn’t a witness to the battle because he was evacuated before the main fighting began.  He did remember that there was a security system that initially was supposed to deal with a small crowd, but we’re talking nearly two thousand people that day.  He’s been working to set up a new office space for the ambassador when he came across it.”

At that remark Jen spoke up.  “Wait a minute,” she said. “You had this tape for a week, and you’re just now getting home? What were you doing all this time?”

For the first time since she got off the plane, the eternal smile momentarily dropped from Alicia’s face.  “I’ll tell you all about it later.  I promise. And I’m sorry for worrying you, sis.”  She turned to her father.  “I’m sorry, Dad, but I got that letter in the mail saying we might have the evidence, I had to make sure that I saw it for myself and get it back here safely.  I took some other precautions just in case if I didn’t make it back, the evidence will still here.”

Alicia turned back to her sister, dropping her backpack to the floors as tears began welling up in her eyes. “It’s my dream to have my husband back here to see his daughters and son born. Born, Jen. Not when their kids are having kids. Not when I’m almost dead. No, he will be here when I give birth.”

Jen eyes lowered to the floor, and for a minute Dan saw his daughter exhaled sharply and sniffed a little. He knew that Jen was the tougher of his two offspring in terms of keeping their emotions in check, but it looked like she was finally going to crack.

Jen’s eyes abruptly rose to meet her sister’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Al. I just worry about you and the kids and all. I just want you to take time for yourself.”

Alicia smiled. “I’ll have plenty of time to do that once my husband is with me.” She reached out her hand, which Jen took, and they pulled each other in an embrace. Dan grasped one shoulder of each of his daughters and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

An unknown pair of eyes was watching them from the bar that Jen and Dan vacated earlier. He sat near the exit, slowly taking everything in as he sipped on coffee, and mentally storing it away. From the point when the Colemans walked into the bar. When they left. Sanders’s annoying bitch of a wife getting off her plane. Tapping her bag as she spoke.

The bag.

He pulled out his global and keyed a frequency. A two-second pause before he started speaking. Descriptions. Man, early fifties, grayish black hair, very tall. Wearing gray slacks, black turtleneck, and black overcoat. Young girl, probably nineteen, decked out in North Carolina Tar Heels sweat gear, with a black leather back pack. Long red hair pulled in a ponytail. Older woman, no older than thirty, long blonde hair. Very pregnant, but still has a shapely figure. Wearing jeans, gray turtleneck, and flannel jacket. The object is the large green backpack she is carrying

Man is driving a black Cadillac Escalade EXT with Florida license plate number COLE1.

The man listened for a few seconds before hanging up. Finishing his coffee, he left a few dollars besides the mug before rising from his chair and exiting the bar, giving the Colemans one last glance before walking towards the escalators for the upstairs level. Satisfied with the knowledge that Alicia Coleman-Sanders, her father, and sister will be dead by tomorrow, and fifty years from now, Admiral Michael Sanders will awaken to only find a plot of graves.

*****

“I forgot how cold it was here,” said Alicia, as she carefully made her way across the ice to the parking garage, holding her sister’s arm. Dan was following closely behind with their backpacks. “Dad, you all right back there?”

“Yeah, I guess your housekeeper wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t think you took that much clothes,” said Dan. “The heaviest thing is your sister’s bag.”

They crossed over to the parking garage to where Dan had parked his truck, when Alicia stopped suddenly “Damn!”

Jen turned to her sister. “What’s wrong?”

Alicia pointed. Two spots down from her father’s truck sat her Durango, possibly the cleanest vehicle in the entire garage considering it was inside during the snowstorm three weeks ago. “I forgot I drove myself down here. Now how am I gonna get it home?”

Dan made it up to them. “Already thought about it, which is why I parked here. Jen, drive your sister’s car. Alicia will ride with me.”

Alicia pulled out her keys and passed them to her sister. “Don’t worry about the gate. I know the guy in charge here. When Dad pays his bill…”

“Wait a minute,” said Dan, “if you know some guy, and if you’re riding in my car, then I shouldn’t have to pay as well, right?”

“I’m just joking, Daddy,” said Alicia, giving Dan’s cheek a playful pinch. “I’ll tell him you’re both with me.”

Dan had already started his truck with an automatic starter, opened the back door of his truck to place both bags there, and then walked around and opened the door for his oldest daughter to get in. Jen got in the Durango and cranked it up to get it warm.

Once Alicia got settled, he closed the door and walked over to the driver side of the Durango. Jen rolled down the window.

Dan was all of a sudden attacked by loud, blaring music that he couldn’t hear over the roar of the engine when the window was up. “Can you turn that down for a second, PLEASE?” he screamed.

Jen quickly turned down the music as Dan continued on. “Much better. Now, I know you have driven her car before, but just pay attention to the roads and keep close to us, OK?”

“C’mon, Dad, please, I’ve been driving all over this side of the country for a while now, okay?” It was the sound of a grown woman, Dan thought, but it was also the sound of thanks for caring.

“Okay, sweetheart. We’ll see you at the house.” Dan smiled and started to turn away before Jen grabbed his arm.

“Dad, can I go get a pizza for dinner?”

Dan looked at her. “There’s food at the house. Why do you want a pizza?”

“Dad, the Butcher of Soccer, Coach Pizella, has all of her players on a strict diet. No sweets, no junk food, and eight hours of sleep a night. I have withdrawals.”

Dan mulled it over for a minute, and slowly nodded. “I can’t believe I’m contributing to the Tar Heels’ losing season, but go ahead. Just don’t take too long.” He pulled out his wallet. “There’s a Pizza Hut just down Route 1 about a mile south of the airport,” he said as he handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “You can go there.”

Jen took the money and reached out to kiss her father on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad, I won’t be long.” She returned to the inside of the truck and rolled up the window.

Dan walked to his truck and got him. Beside him, Alicia was lying with the seat tilted back, her eyelids closed. He nudged her gently, and her eyes fluttered opened. “You okay?”

Alicia stifled a yawn and raised the seat to a more level position. “Yeah, it’s been a tough three months.” She smiled and rubbed her swollen tummy where her offspring rested.
“But it was all worth it.”

Dan smiled and shifted the truck to drive, and slowly pulled out of the parking spot, heading towards the exit. In his rearview mirror, he noticed his daughter pulling out and following closely behind.

The cars made it out to the parking garages gates and without incident, though it took a minute to find Alicia’s friend to wave them through. Once Dan made it out of the airport’s perimeter and turned on Route 1, he picked up a little speed.

“Are we in a hurry, or are you racing Jen again?” said Alicia.

Dan drove through a green light, reaching for his global to dial Jen. “No, she’s going to get a pizza right there,” he said, pointing at the Pizza Hut on the right side of the road. “She’ll meet us at the house a little later.”

The global made a connection, and a second later a slight beeping can be heard coming from the back seat. Dan turned around and groaned. “Her global’s in her bag. I hope she sees it.”

His fears quickly diminished as he spotted her in the rearview mirror flashing her right turn signal and pulling into the parking lot. He refocused his attention on the road.

“Shouldn’t we wait for her?” said Alicia. “I don’t know if she remembers her way back from here.”

“No, she’ll be all right. I know she has her wallet, and she has directions there, plus phone numbers in case she does get lost,” said Dan, as he pulled up to a red light.

For the first time, he noticed that there was no traffic out on Route 1, totally unheard of if anyone is familiar with the layout of the District of Columbia/Metropolitan area. Route 1 connects with I-395 to go north through Washington, and stretches as far south as Richmond, Virginia. Thousands of commuters travel the road everyday, even on the weekends.

But why not today? No traffic going north past them, and none following them going south. All that was behind them was an old, dilapidated van.

Oh, no.

Dan reached underneath his seat and pulled out a zippered pouch. Alicia watched as with expert finesse, he unzipped it and pulled out a Glock 19 pistol with an extra clip. “Damn, I wish she had her global.”

Alicia started to rise with alarm. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

Dan pulled the charger back to cede the first round, and placed the pistol in his lap. “I don’t know sweetheart, but hang on!”

Dan slammed his foot on the gas and peeled out into the intersection, and the action took less than a second before he slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting another van speeding from the right side of the intersection, cutting off their path.

“Shit!” whispered Dan through clenched teeth. From the gear the driver was wearing in the second van, he knew this was an ambush. He threw the truck into the reverse, but even before he could begin to turn around to see where he was going, the van behind him rammed him, hitting the truck on the back-left side. Not enough to push him clearly off the road, but sent in enough of a direction to not hit the van in the intersection.

By the time the truck came to a stop, six men, dressed from head to toe in black military gear, were standing in the intersection, each armed with MK117s, laser-sighted automatic machine-guns. They stopped ten feet from the truck and waited for signs of life.

The driver, a man in late forties, early fifties, slowly rose in view, obviously knocked to the side as the truck was hit from behind. Dazed, he looked around before focusing on the six figures in black.

One of them, the leader from his built and stature, took one step forward and raised his rifle. At that signal, the other five raised theirs also.

Dan looked down at his daughter, knocked unconscious but alive, beside him. A tear fell from his eyes, knowing that her hard work to get her husband back led to this.

*****

Jen had just ordered her pizza and went outside to enjoy the cold February air. Large stuff-crusted sausage and pepperoni. She knew she’ll pay dearly if her coach ever finds out.

She reached into the inside of her jacket pocket for something else she knew she’ll pay for if her family finds out. Fishing the pack of cigarettes she has been craving since yesterday, she opened it up and pulled out one, and also the pack of matches in the plastic. She struck the match against the cover and quickly brought the flame to the cigarette before she heard a spray of audible “pops.”

Growing up with a highly placed retired Central Intelligence Agency operative for a father and possibly the most decorated Federation officer in history for a brother-in-law, you learn a couple of things, such as recognizing the sound of gunfire.

Frowning, she went all the way to the sidewalk parallel of Route 1 and looked north towards the airport. Puzzled as to the lack of traffic on a mid-Saturday afternoon, she turned to face south.

She thought she saw a black truck less than a mile down. A truck that looks just like her father’s. She could make out two vans, one directly in front of the truck, and another one behind and to the left of it.

She thought she could make out one or two figures walking around the truck, the back end with the look of a train wreck.

Shots rang out again. Jen ducked down instinctively, coming to a grim realization.

“Oh, no.”

Jen threw her cigarette down and ran to her sister’s truck. She prayed that what she was looking for was still in the back where Michael left it.

The satchel he brought back from Mexico to hold his weapons collection was in the back. Without even thinking she grabbed a Beretta and slapped a magazine in the well, and decided to throw one of Michael’s special weapons up front. She was pulling the charging handle back to cede the first round as she made her way to the driver seat and cranked up the truck. She knew that she could never get off accurate shots with her left hand but she could probably run whoever is up at that intersection away from her father and sister.

The truck leaped out of the parking lot, knowing that somehow traffic was being held off for a reason, and cut the car sharply right, accelerator pressed to the floor.

As she got closer, she could see the black figures more closely and in detail, each dressed like some military organization with combat gear. Some with their rifles at the ready while others were pointed at the ground, momentarily shocked at the site of another vehicle on the road flying in their direction.

No matter. Jen steered with her right hand as the left guided the Beretta out of the window, trying to remember her father’s training when it comes to shooting out of a moving vehicle.

Her first two shots obviously had an effect, as she saw one member of the team jerked his head back and fell on his back spread eagle to the ground, hands slowly rubbing his head. The second shot made the others jump back a foot or two and rethink their strategy of standing in the open.

Well, almost all of them had a second thought.

The largest one slung his rifle over his shoulder and reached for a long, silver tube, about two feet long, hanging from his hip. From Jen’s point of view, it looked like a shiny, but simple metal bar.

Jen involuntarily glanced at the smaller “shiny, but simple metal bar” sitting in the passenger seat beside her. To an ordinary being, it will look simple, but only a select few know the artistic and dangerous value of a lightsaber. It will cut off a hand or a leg and cauterized the wound at the same time. It can slice through just about anything known to man. Even a Jeep Durango.

Jen slowed down almost to a dead stop to get a better aim at the black-masked figure, but the man stretched out his hand and the pistol was snatched out of Jen’s hand and thrown twenty feet away. Jen looked at her empty hand in shock before it hit her. This guy has Mike’s powers!

Before she could reach back for another weapon out of the satchel, Jen felt the truck lurched upwards with a violent yank. She looked out of the window and saw the ground below her at least twenty feet, and the single masked figure, hand outstretched, in total control. All around her, she could see over buildings and stores, and she also had a better view of her father’s truck, but could detect no movement inside from her vantage point.

“Bastard!” was all Jen could say through clenched teeth. Mike never mentioned that there were more people out there just like him. She climbed into the back seat and grabbed the satchel, eyeing a grenade temptingly, but decided against it, remembering the telekinetic ability that monster has. She spotted a phaser pistol and grabbed it.

As the vehicle began spinning left to right slowly to where she could aim directly out of the window, she fired.

The deadly-hot stream, despite Jen’s lack of aim, headed towards the man in black. Jen thought she had him dead to rights but the man brought his tube level with the ground and twin beams ejected from both ends, a meter long from shaft to tip. He immediately spun the double-edged saber like a baton and the bolt deflected away from him, redirected back at the truck. The entire action took less than a second.

The beam hit the front end of the truck with the force of a megaton bomb, slamming Jen against the back of the driver seat. She screamed in pain as her right shoulder connected with it at an awkward angle, and felt it snap like a twig. She managed to maintain a grip on her phaser, and despite the pain she was in, she raised herself up to fire again.

Before she could gain her bearings, everything not strapped down in the truck began rushing up as though they were being tossed in the air by a large group. The buildings were rushing pass, and….

***********

Jen knew she was in trouble as soon as she opened her eyes.

The truck was obviously totaled, both by the phaser blast and the twenty-foot drop from nowhere. Her right shoulder felt worst than ever, but her back was overwhelming even that unwelcomed pain.

Somehow she had did major damage to her back before landing on the backseat. Judging from the massive headache she had, she figured her head collided with the door, forcing her to black out.

Merciful.

Thankfully, the truck had landed upright, but now a little lower than it was when she was driving. No doubt the tires were all flattened by the impact. All of the glass in the truck had shattered. The sunroof and a good chunk of the rook were torn away.

And that was when she saw him.

Standing tall, black hood and mask concealing all but his yellow eyes, and carrying his deactivated double-edged saber, was the mastermind of this entire plan. He looked down on her from the hood of the truck, eyes unblinking, uncaring.

Jen, despite the amount of pain she was in, tried to sit up. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to die lying down. Her back screamed in torment, and she conceded, instead taking the satisfaction of staring back defiantly at her family’s assailant.

The masked figure stared back for a moment, and finally spoke. “You fought with honor, young woman.”

Momentarily surprised, Jen was brought back to reality by the memory of her father’s truck still in the intersection. “What did you do to my family?”

The man said nothing. He reached into a trouser pocket and pulled out a global.  He tossed it down to Jen.

“Call yourself an ambulance,” he said as he jumped off the truck.

“Wait!” Jen screamed, but she received no response. Groaning with agony, she picked up the phone, and with clammy hands, began to dial. Her initial instincts told her the phone might be a bomb, but now or later, if she does not get medical attention, it will not matter.

As she heard the squealing of tires, she reached over her head and grabbed the door handle for the back seat. As she did that, a flash of pain overcame her, knocking her into unconsciousness once more.

************

A gloved hand reached into the truck for the global, still clenched in Jen’s left hand. He pulled the phone free, and checked Jen’s pulse. He stayed like that for a minute, head cocked to the side as if remembering an old song from a time long ago.

Satisfied, he opened the global and pressed a button. “Arlington County 911,” the female operator announced through the speaker.

“Yeah, I just rolled up here on Route 1 past the Interstate Shopping Center, and this Durango looked as if it was dropped from the sky,” said the man, in as much of a hippie voice as he could muster through his mask. “All the windows were shattered, the tires — what tires? And there’s this girl sitting in the back seat. She’s alive, but barely.” He closed
the phone up before he could be asked any questions.

The man threw the global back in the truck and turned around to walk to the van pulling towards him. Already the sirens could be heard in the distance, coming closer, and a few cars were making their way from both directions to the intersection. He jumped in the passenger seat, and the van, instead of going north or south, headed straight through the intersection as if that was its original destination before the shootout.

The man looked back at his work, nodding with satisfaction but sorry that he had to kill three defenseless people. Correction, two defenseless people, he noted, as he remembered the fiery young redhead who while no match for him, managed to take out one of his men a hundred feet away in a moving vehicle, and almost managed to take him out with a phaser. It was probably a mistake to let her live, but it was the honorable thing to do, he thought, as he took one last glance in the rearview mirror at the carnage he left behind.

What he failed to notice was the small hand slowly reaching out of the passenger side through the window. Blood shining in the afternoon sun, it paled in comparison to the reflection from the diamond wedding on her left hand.

**********

Master Gunnery Sergeant Raymond Torres, USMC, returned to his house covered in a sheet of sweat, despite the 35-degree weather. The scowl on his face became even more evident every time he looked at his stopwatch. “Four seconds under my normal time,” he muttered as he stepped into the kitchen. “I need a new damn watch.”

Anita Torres was already in the kitchen. A slim, petite woman with long, dark hair, she was standing by the coffeemaker in a long silk bathrobe, waiting on the first pot of the morning. “You took long enough,” she said, not even looking at him. “I thought you got kidnapped.”

“Ha ha, very funny, senorita’,” said Torres. “When the java’s gonna be ready?”

Anita had just picked up the pot and begun pouring into two mugs waiting on the counter. “After you take your shower.”

Torres came up behind her and slowly massaged her shoulders and neck. “Only if you scrub my back. You know I have problems with that.”

Anita snickered. “Well, aren’t you greedy? Wasn’t last night good enough for you?” She turned around and handed him a cup of coffee. “That’s why your three-mile run was so slow today.”

Torres took the cup with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, that tears it. No more sex for me.”

Anita laughed and handed him the television remote, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll revoke the shower for now, but I’m going to get breakfast started soon.”

Torres took the remote and coffee and moved to the kitchen table while Anita started going through the refrigerator for breakfast items. He thumbed the remote and turned the channel to the news.

The newscaster was talking about something that happened yesterday afternoon on Route 1. He turned the volume up and moved to get some sugar from the bowl beside the coffee maker.

“No witnesses were found in the apparent ambush. One survivor, 18-year-old Jennifer Coleman of Pensacola, Florida, is in critical but stable condition. Her sister, Alicia
Coleman-Sanders, wife of convicted Federation officer Admiral Michael Sanders, is in serious condition. The fate of her unborn children, triplets, is unknown at this time.”

Anita was engrossed in her work until she jumped at the sound of glass breaking against the floor. She turned around with a start and looked at her husband.

Torres was standing, facing her, coffee mug now shattered on the kitchen floor, totally shocked. He turned to the television as the newscaster continued.

“Coleman-Sanders, a famous attorney who has gained prestige as her husband’s defense council several months ago, had just returned from a trip to Yemen yesterday before the attack. Local authorities are investigating with the cooperation of the military. Once again, one dead, and two critically injured in what was obviously an unprovoked attack.”

Anita watched as Torres moved to the home monitor and started dialing in a well-dialed frequency. Silence ruled for just a second before he started speaking. “Harm? it Ray. I’m sorry to bother you but something terrible has happened.”

*********

Commander Harmon Rabb, USN, Judge Advocate General office, rushed into the emergency section of the hospital in street clothes, looking left and right for any face that he would recognize until his gaze fell on Raymond Torres.

Torres was standing by the emergency ward section talking with a doctor Harm didn’t recognize. He saw Harm and waved him over.

“Harm, thanks for coming,” he said, shaking his hand.

“Thanks for calling,” said Harm, turning to the doctor. “Commander Rabb, JAG Corps.”

“Commander Wyatt,” said the doctor, looking as if he has done double shifts and in no mood for pleasantries. “Commander, the master guns can fill you in. I have to get back to my patients.” He nodded and went back into the ward.

Rabb turned to Torres. “What happened?”

Torres turned and pointed outside to a Arlington County sheriff’s patrol car sitting outside, its two occupants barely distinguishable inside. “The first one on the scene in
Arlington is here. I barely had a chance to talk to him before the doctor came out, but from what the deputy told me, it was a war zone out there.”

Harm stared at Torres in disbelief. “But why? And who?”

Torres shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea, but Alicia left me a message a couple of days ago to meet up with her today at noon at her house. She said she had something that might clear Mike and General Austin.”

Harm weighed all of this, piecing everything together. “Any witnesses?”

“Jennifer, but she was banged up bad. Broken back, right collarbone broken, left leg broken. She was driving Alicia’s car.” He fished a picture and passed it to Harm. “Here’s what it look like.”

Harm winced at the sight of the photo. “What the hell happened? Was Alicia in that car?”

“No, she was riding with her father.” Torres paused before continuing. “Dan Coleman is dead, Harm.”

Harm looked up from the photo back at Torres. “What? I didn’t even know he was up here.”

“Me neither. I didn’t know until I asked the staff, because they had said on the news that one was dead, and I didn’t know who that person was. I barely was able to catch the entire segment.”

Torres turned away from Harm to stare outside for a few seconds before continuing. “They frame my best friend, send him off in a ice cube for fifty years, and now his father-in-law is dead, and they don’t expect his wife to survive.”

Harm reached out to give his friend a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. “Ray, we’re going to find the people who did this.” He shook Torres gently until he turned around to look each other in the eye. “I promise you, we will find them.”

Harm looked around and saw the two Virginia officers walking into the hospital. “Get as much information from these two as you can,” he said, pulling his wallet out. “I need to make a phone call.”

**********

Ow, thought Jen as she awoke to a bright light. It was not the same bright light as it was when the masked character was standing over her…

With a start, she looked around and saw that she was not sitting in the backseat of the Durango, and that the bright light was the fluorescent bulbs from the ceiling.

And that the handsome man sitting in the chair at the foot of her bed was not the masked man.

Harm got up and walked to the side of her bed. “Hi, kiddo,” he said, softly brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Jen looked back with a dumbfounded look on her face. “Harm?” She looked around again before focusing back on him. “Where am I?” Jen tried to sit up, but a shooting agony rode up and down her spine, forcing her back down again.

Harm rested his hand on her shoulder. “You need to take it easy and rest. Your injuries are quite severe. The doctor didn’t know if you were going to pull through at first.” His hand moved from her shoulder to her left hand. “I’m glad you’re all right, though,” he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.”

Jen looked back at Harm, calmed down but with obvious questions. “Harm, answer this question for me, and no joke. Where are my father and sister?”

Harm looked at her for a minute struggling with his words, but decided to tell the truth. Jen was not one to fool with, and this was the time to be straightforward. “Alicia is falling in and out of a coma. She has major internal bleeding and the doctors are racing to stop it. The triplets, as far as they know, are safe.”

Jen closed her eyes and exhaled softly, but then opened up back up and continued to look at him expectantly.

Harm stared back until he could do it no more and lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Jen. Your father didn’t make it.”

Harm’s head remained lowered, not able to look at Jen’s face until he felt a squeeze on his hand from her. He raised his head.

Tears were beginning to form up on the rims of Jen’s eyes, but he knew they would not form while he was in the room. Not yet. “Has anyone called my mother?”

“Ray Torres did about an hour ago. Colonel McKenzie is in Florida right now, so we’re making arrangements to fly your mother and a few of your relatives here to Virginia on Mac’s plane. You’ll be able to see your mother by this evening.” He paused for a second, not sure how to frame what he wanted to say to honor her father, but he continued, hoping the words would sound stronger than he felt saying. “If it matters much, your father sacrificed himself by taking the brunt of the shooting. He saved Alicia.”

Jen seemed to be staring through Harm by now. “Thanks, Harm.” She slowly pulled free from his grasp to rest her free hand by her immobilized one, sitting in a sling across her chest. “Can you do me a favor and get me a global?”

Harm did as she asked, pulling his out of his pocket and sitting it in her hand. “If there’s anything else you need, I’ll be here,” he said as he moved towards the door.

Jen nodded. “Thanks, Harm. Thanks for everything.”

When Harm closed the door, the tears began to flow.

***********

“No, Commander, you did the right thing,” said Admiral A.J. Chegwidden, USN, JAG Corps, global in hand as he stepped off the elevator to the passageway leading to the Office of the Federation Supreme Commander. “You and Colonel McKenzie knew them better than most of us. Plus despite the circumstances, Admiral Sanders is technically still a part of the armed forces, and every courtesy should be extended to his family during these times.”

He continued listening while strolling past paintings of past Federation commanders and officers, pausing at one portraying his long-time friend and comrade, James T. Kirk. A sadness he had not felt in a long time crept into his being.

“Sir?  What’s wrong?”

“What? Oh, nothing, Commander. Just reminiscing a little bit,” he said, continuing to his destination. “Listen, I’m at the Supreme Commander’s office right now. Give me an half-hour and call me back with whatever word you have.”

“Aye, sir.”

Chegwidden shut down his opening the door to the office.

The office had six desks spread throughout the area, with several small hallways leading to other offices and exits. A Marine lieutenant, impeccably dressed in a long-sleeved khaki shirt, blue trousers with the red blood stripe down the seam, sat at a desk closest to the double doors facing the outer lobby. He immediately rose to attention as Chegwidden stepped in.

“Good morning, sir. The Supreme Commander is expecting you. May I get you something to drink?”

“Whatever the Commander is drinking at this time, Lieutenant, thank you.” Chegwidden walked to the double doors and turned the knob to enter.

The office was long as it was wide. Sofas were lined on either side of the long rug stretching from the door to the two chairs and the desk at the other end.

The occupant of the desk rose from his chair while talking on the telephone. He waved Chegwidden forward while conversing with whoever it was on the other end. He tried to pay as little attention as possible to the conversation, but it was hard to ignore the number of times “sir” was said.

“Fine, sir. I’ll make sure all of the necessary people are made aware of your directives … Thank you, sir.”

The man hung up the phone, at which point Chedwidden allowed the looseness to fall out of his posture and came completely to attention, but the man waved it off. “A. J.,” he said with a wink in his stare. “It’s Sunday.” He gestured to a chair just behind Chegwidden.

Chegwidden nodded and sat down while the man took his seat being his desk, staring at the admiral. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice, A. J.”

“Well, sir, if it’s one thing that I know the Supreme Commander likes to do is to get all the crap out of the way quickly, so we can waste our time with the stuff that matters.”

John Franklin Knox, a fit, middle-age man with the look of no-nonsense authority mixed with the gray of fighting wars on battlefields and behind desks, nodded once at Chegwidden. “My feelings exactly. I’m in the middle of writing a speech for an dinner engagement I have tonight, but I have some sort of writer’s block. Tom had better … oh, here he is.”

The Marine lieutenant walked into the office with two tumblers of a dark brown liquid. He gave one first to the Supreme Commander and the other to Chegwidden. “Will you be needing anything else, sir?”

Knox looked at his watch. “No, thank you, Tom. I’m going to be ready to leave in about an hour, so make sure security is aware of that. No later than 1415.”

“Yes, sir. By your leave, gentlemen.” The lieutenant walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.

Chegwidden took a sip of his tumbler. Jack Daniels’. “Writer’s block drink, sir?”

Knox grinned. “Anything to form a sentence on paper, A. J.” The grin slowly faded. “I know why you’re here.”

“So you’ve heard about what happened.”

“I saw the news flash this morning. A damn shame. My heart goes out to the family.” Knox got up and stared out of his window overlooking the edge of Arlington National Cemetery. “The first thing I thought about is the first thing you and your people probably thought about, too.”

Chegwidden couldn’t resist any longer. He had to know. “Sir, were you talking to the President?”

Knox turned to look at Chegwidden. “The President called me. Seconds before I could pick up the phone, Tom walks up in here saying that he’s on line two for me.”

“What were the results of the conversation, if I may ask, sir?”

Knox turned and looked over his shoulder out of the window for a second before returning his gaze on Chegwidden. “Sanders stays where he is.”

Chegwidden stared back at the Supreme Commander in disbelief, speechless as Knox continued. “The President feels, as I do, that if Sanders was released temporarily and finds out what happened, he will want to find who did this to his family and become a flight risk. It’s been three months since he and Austin were sent up there. Things are still touchy overseas. It’s too big a chance to take.”

Chegwidden set his drink down on the desk and looked at Knox. “Sir, this entire country owes it to this man to at least inform him that his family was brutally gunned down. I can’t believe this!”

Knox stared at Chegwidden. “I fought with the President for almost a half-hour about it, A. J. Believe me, if I can get him out of that block of ice, I’ll fly up there in a shuttle and bring him back myself.” He sighed. “The President’s points are sound, however. We cannot afford another incident from that man.”

Chegwidden nodded and stood up at attention. “Sir, professionally, I concur with the decision made by the President, and endorse your approval. Personally, I think it’s a damn shame.” He turned and walked towards the door with Knox staring at him. “A damn shame indeed.”

**********

Lieutenant Col. Sarah MacKenzie, USMC, JAG Corps, walked into the emergency ward’s waiting area, dressed in her Service “A” uniform. A tall woman with short blonde hair, wearing a black overcoat over a white sweater and tan slacks followed her.

Mac looked around the room; nearly empty saved the staff at the front desk. She almost walked up to the desk when the door to the ward opened, admitting Commander Rabb and Master Gunnery Sergeant Torres.

“Rabb,” said Mac. She and the older lady walked over to the men. “Any news?”

Rabb nodded, looking at the lady behind Mac. “Maggie, I can’t say how sorry I am about Dan.” He took her hand in both of his as he kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Harm. Ray.” She looked around at everyone gathered around her. “And thank you all for getting me up here so fast. I really do appreciate it.”

“It was the least we could do.” Harm looked at Torres and Mac before continuing. “We really need to talk…about Alicia.”

Maggie’s eyes widened slightly but Rabb quickly continued. “She’s still slipping in and out of a coma, but there’s a decision to be made about the babies.” He gently took her arm and led her to a chair away from Mac and Torres who started talking about something else. They both sat down.

Rabb looked at the floor for a second before focusing on Maggie.  “Alicia has internal bleeding. The doctors have been working for hours to try to stop it, but no luck. They’re saying it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

“How are the babies?”

“The babies are safe. So far. The womb was penetrated by a bullet, which is why they’re working to keep it from becoming infected.” Rabb paused. “They’re not giving her a good chance to survive labor.”

Maggie slowly took all of the news in. “What are our options?”

“Emergency C-section. Unfortunately, that will involve a great loss of blood.  The doctors don’t give her a great shot of surviving that, either, but it gives the babies a chance.”

“Can I talk to her?”

Rabb glanced over at Torres, who was standing with Mac and Commander Wyatt. “Commander, is she conscious?”

Wyatt looked back. “Yes, she is. And more coherent, too.” He looked over at Maggie. “Are you her mother, ma’am?”

“Yes. Can I see my daughters?”

“Follow me.”

***********

Maggie walked into the room alone, Rabb choosing to stand just outside the door. She slowly stepped up to the bed where her oldest daughter rested.

Except for the constant chirping of the machines encompassing the bed, Alicia almost looked like she was asleep. There were no bruises on her face, and her blonde hair looked longer than the last time she had saw it. The only disturbing reminder of her predicament was the tubes running up and down her arm, and under her gown.

Maggie slid a chair close to the bed and sat down, reaching through the side rails to grasp her daughter’s hand. She bent her head and cried.

She felt the hand move slightly, and looked up. Through her tears, she saw Alicia staring back at her. “Mom?”

“Yes, baby, I’m here.” She got up and reached over to kiss her on her temple. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I’m going to die, am I?”

“Of course not, dear. You are not going to die.” Maggie shook her head. “I will not lose you. You have so much to live for.”

Alicia closed her eyes for a second, and Maggie thought she fell back into a coma again, but they reopened a few seconds later. “No, the kids come first, Mom.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Tell the doctor to do the C-section.”

“Alicia, there has to be another way.”

“Mom, please.”

Maggie looked at her oldest child for a lifetime. “Alicia, in the blink of an eye I lost my dear husband, and my two children were nearly killed. I cannot afford to lose you.”

“You won’t, Mom.” Alicia smiled and squeezed Maggie’s hand. “Not while you have these.” She glanced at her belly. “Please, Mom. Don’t do this for me. Don’t do this for Mike. Do this for them.”

Maggie looked back at Alicia, remembering all the memories she had stored up of this bright young woman. Her first step. Her first birthday. The day she broke her arm riding a horse for the first time. Her first date. High school graduation. Law school. Whirlwind romance with a Federation officer and war hero. Announcing the engagement. The wedding. Her pregnancy.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

**********

“So they’re not going to release him?” said Jen as she was wheeled to Alicia’s room. Torres was pushing the chair, Mac following close behind.

Torres nodded. “I just talked to the Admiral a while ago. He had just gotten offline with the Commandant of the Marine Corps trying to drum up support for this, but no such luck. Obviously the Joint Chiefs and Starfleet Command doesn’t like the idea, but they’re not about to tell the President that.”

“I see the President’s point in all this, and it is a valid one,” said Mac. You have a man who was convicted of causing an international incident. He was sentenced after being tried. If he’s let out and finds that his entire family was gunned down because of him, he will want to find those who are responsible. Mike is a human wrecking machine. He will probably cause another incident which will have serious ramifications.”

Torres glanced back at Mac. “So he stays on ice for five decades, get out and walk up to a plot in Arlington where he can find his family.” He turned his eyes forward. “Ridiculous.”

The group rounded a corner and found Rabb squatting, trying to comfort Maggie, sitting in a chair, crying hysterically.

“Mom!” yelled Jen.

Maggie looked over at Jen and got up, quickly covering the few steps to gently embrace her daughter. “Oh, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t go to see you. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Mom, and I would have sent you out of my room if you hadn’t seen Alicia first.” Jen looked past Rabb at the door behind him. “Is she in there?”

Rabb nodded. “Sorry, kiddo. She’s being prepped for surgery.”

“Surgery? What–is something wrong with one of the kids?”

Rabb walked over and laid a hand on Jen’s wheelchair armrest. “No, we’re hoping something will be right.”

**********

“Negative, Bud. You stay right where you are. Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb are there, as well as Master Gunny Torres. They have all the support they need for now.”

Chegwidden continued to listen as Bud continued speaking while trying to pour a glass of water for himself in the process.  “Would it be all right if we sent some flowers to the hospital, sir?”

“Of course you can send flowers. I’m quite sure the family would appreciate that…. Bud, I’m going to have to let you go. I have another call on video conferencing. We’ll talk tomorrow. Tell Harriet I said welcome back. Good night.”

Chegwidden walked over to the videoconference stand and pressed a button before placing the receiver in the cradle. He pressed another button and the text “Bethesda, Maryland” appeared for a few seconds before it faded into a visual of what appeared to be a waiting room. A familiar face stared back at him.

“Commander,” said Chegwidden, sliding into a chair for a better view.” How is everybody holding up?”

Rabb stared back at him, voiceless for a few seconds before replying. “An emergency C-section was done, sir. Maggie Coleman gave it the green light. We also managed to track down more of Alicia’s plasma for the surgery. The babies are healthy and safe, but…” Rabb’s voice trailed off.

Chegwidden leaned closer. “Commander, what’s wrong?”

Rabb backed up a few steps, allowing Colonel MacKenzie to step into view. “Good evening, Admiral.”

“Mac, what’s wrong?”

Mac looked back at Rabb, who by now had started crying. Torres was sitting beside him, patting him on the shoulder. The admiral could not see what was going on but can obviously hear it. “Sir, the babies are safe and sound. Unfortunately, there were some complications with the surgery which were expected. Alicia lost a great deal of blood, and the doctors have lost all hope. Jen and her mom are in there now…saying goodbye.”

Chegwidden sat back, dumbfounded. “Colonel, you do what needs to be done for Maggie Coleman. The three of you take tomorrow off. Bud and Harriet are back in town and can cover for you two.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?”

Chegwidden paused before replying. “Tell them how sorry I am. Tell them that for me.” He pressed the disconnect button before the tears came.

***********

Mac could not believe she couldn’t find a parking spot close to the chapel despite her early arrival. Then she saw them.

At least twenty news trucks, parked all the way up to the gate leading to the cemetery, were in full swing to get ready for airing the funeral. Reporters were already in front of cameras talking about the circumstances that led to Alicia’s death Sunday night. Of course no one should know that because the doctors gave their word no news would leak out.

Somebody broke that word, it seems.

Mac finally found a clear patch of spots behind the chapel. As she pulled in one and cut the car off, another car, an Escalade SUV, pulled in beside her. The admiral’s car.

She got out, placed her cover and adjusted her uniform while Chegwidden walked over to her side. As soon as he was in view, she snapped to attention and salute. “Good afternoon, sir.”

Chegwidden returned the salute. “Colonel, what the hell is going on out there? Why is the media circus here?”

“Admiral, I swear to you, I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.” Mac started to walk around to the front of the chapel but Chegwidden stopped her.

“No need. I’ve talked to the chaplain on my global and he assures me that no media will be allowed inside. You can do me a favor and called the admin folks at the cemetery to let them know the situation and tell them no media within a hundred yards of the gravesite.”

“Consider it done, sir.” Mac started to walk away as another car pulled up, a somewhat familiar woman driving to the other side of Chegwidden’s. Mac looked at the admiral, who shrugged.

The car shut off and the driver side opened and closed. The person stepped into view with a smile. “Colonel MacKenzie. How nice to see you again.”

Mac rolled her eyes to the sky. “Teri Tanner. I hope you don’t think you are going to the funeral with your camera crew because you have another thing coming.”

Teri held up her hands in the defensive. “Colonel, you think too low of me. Actually, I was hoping you would be here. I need to talk to you about something. Something I think only JAG would be able to handle.” She turned to Chegwidden. “I’m also not here to cover this story, but to actually attend the funeral.  Commander Rabb was kind enough to invite me. Alicia was after all my friend, even for only a short amount of time.”

Chegwidden looked at Teri in silence, but Mac spoke up. “What is it you need to talk to me about?”

“Well, Alicia called me last Thursday night from the airport where she was flying out of. She told me she found evidence that could prove Admiral Sanders and General Austin’s innocence.”

“We know that already. Alicia’s sister Jennifer said that she brought it back with her, but it was obviously taken after the shooting.”

“No, that was a recording. Alicia pulled a disc of different footage on it and brought that with her just in case.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a disc and a folded piece of paper. “This is the original. I got it in the mail yesterday with this note.” She handed Mac both items.

Mac unfolded the paper and read the note. “Well, this would explain what Jen was talking about when she said that Alicia found the footage a week before she left Yemen, but she spent the time making a dub and sending it to you.” She passed the note to Chegwidden and examined the tape. “Have you taken a look at this?”

“No, which is why I’m giving it to you because you will know how to follow up on this.”

Mac passed the disc back to Teri. “You hold on to it, then. When we’re done here, you can come back to JAG and watch it there.” She looked at Chegwidden. “Is that OK?”

Chegwidden nodded. “We will need some experts to collaborate the events on the tape, but I think the master guns can gather them up for us.”

Mac nodded. “All right.” She and the admiral started walking to the front, and noticed that Teri was still standing there. “Hey, I thought you were going to the funeral.” She waved her along.

************

“We are here today, united, to celebrate the life of Alicia Renee’ Coleman Sanders,” the chaplain said. “We are not mourning her passing, or remembering the circumstances for why we are gathered in this place. We are here to remember the person that was Alicia.”

Mac, Teri, Rabb, Torres and his wife Anita, and Chegwidden sat in the row behind Maggie and her younger sister Sandra and her husband David, who flew in from California the day before. Jen sat in a wheelchair in the aisle beside her mother, holding her hand.

“We will now have testimonials by some of her friends, the people who knew her best. Commander Rabb.” The chaplain gestured in Rabb’s direction.

Rabb stood and walked to the lecturn, pausing briefly by the silver casket in front of the pulpit.  A picture of Alicia, in her wedding dress as she stood beside her father, rested on a stand. He touched it lightly before climbing the steps to the vacated lectern and faced the crowd, briefly glancing in the direction of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, sitting on the opposite side of the chapel, and his gaze fell on a face he thought he would not see here.

The President of the United States.

Rabb quickly gathered himself and focused his attention on the crowd. “Alicia and I went to law school together,” he said. “We became good friends when she was having a rough time with our corporate law series. I took the time to help her out with that. I looked at her as my little sister.”

Maggie and Jen looked up at Rabb as he continued. “When I made the decision to accept a Navy commission and become a pilot, she took one look at me and said ‘So you have to live out your Top Gun fantasy, huh?’

The crowd laughed at that remark. Even Maggie smiled briefly. “So I signed up, and started going to flight school in Pensacola. Since Alicia was from Florida, we hung out a lot. A lot of people ask why we never married. I always told them I can’t marry my little sister.”

“During my training, I met a Federation officer by the name of Michael Sanders. Probably the best friend a man could ever have. He was going through simulation training for space fighters they were putting on several starships. I brought him to a party Alicia was throwing to celebrate Jen’s soccer championship.”

“That decision was one I never regretted, because there were things I knew I could never give Alicia that I knew Michael could, and they were a perfect match from the start. I was happy that they were engaged, I was happy that they were married, and I’m happy that because of that union, they have three healthy, beautiful children.”

“But unfortunately, I’m not happy today. Two people separated forever for crimes they committed. One is lying before us in this casket. The crime? To free her husband. The other is frozen a million miles in space. The crime?”

He stared at the President as he spoke. “To keep this country free.”

The President stared at Rabb in silence as he stepped away from the lectern and walked down the steps towards his seat, stopping long enough to whisper an apology to Jen and Maggie before walking to the back of the church, pushing the door to the outer lobby area.

He stood back there as one of Alicia’s former associates stepped to the lectern but his attention was more focused on his pacing from one side of the lobby to the other.

“Commander?”

Rabb turned to the voice’s direction. The Secretary of the Navy stood at the door, having slipped in so quietly Rabb did not hear him.

“Good afternoon, sir. Sir, if you excuse me…”

“A moment of your time, Commander.” The Secretary stepped fully into the lobby, closing the door softly behind him. “If you please.”

Rabb sat down on the small cushioned bench indicated by the Secretary, who sat down beside him with his fingers steepled, pointing to the marble floor. “Commander, I know you are upset about the fact that Admiral Sanders was not released, but I just want you to know that you got the wrong guy.”

“Sir, with all due respect, the President issued the order to Supreme Commander Knox. Admiral Chegwidden was there when he told him.”

“Yes, he did. He did so at my request.”

Rabb sat back at this revelation. “Why, sir?”

“The President was all ready to release Sanders for forty-eight hours under constant guard. I was also, but early last week we received Intel reports of Yemen terrorists in the area. We didn’t know of their intentions until Sunday when we learned of the shooting. At that time I advised the President that Admiral Sanders should not be released. At least for now.”

“Their intentions?”

“Whatever Mrs. Sanders brought back with her on that trip, they wanted back. Evidence that would clear her husband.”

“Oh, that. Well, sir, we have the evidence.”

The Secretary looked back at Rabb in disbelief. “But from your report you filed with A.J., I thought it was taken at the time of the shooting.”

Rabb shook his head. “That was correct, sir. But a reporter friend of Mrs. Sanders was mailed the real disc. After the funeral we’re going to check it out.”

The Secretary looked at the far wall with a thoughtful expression. “This changes things, then.” He turned his gaze to Rabb. “I trust JAG’s judgment, Commander. Do you think that this tape is legit?”

“From what Jennifer Coleman said about the “extra precautions” her sister talked about last Saturday, Alicia did something over there that ticked somebody off, and she caught wind of it. She did what she had to do. Unfortunately, whoever killed her and her father planned ahead here in the States where she would feel…protected and safe. Her guard would be down.”

The Secretary rose to his feet. “I need to get back, Commander, but I just thought you ought to know that if you want to direct some of your anger, direct it to me.”

Rabb got to his feet and crossed his arms. “No, sir. I have no anger now. I actually have pity.”

The Secretary gave him a quizzical look. “Pity?”

“Yes, sir. Pity for anyone who gets in Mike Sanders’ way.”

************************************

Admiral Chegwidden sat back in his seat and folded his arms as Teri Tanner pressed the eject button on the disc player. “Well, that tears it. Sanders and Austin were in the right all along.”

Rabb and Mac sat in chairs in front of the admiral’s desk as Tanner took the disc out and set it on the desk. “How are you going to work it?”

“From the commander’s conversation with SECNAV, the powers that be are aware that we hold Sanders’ key in our hands. It cannot be denied. However, I have to agree with the Supreme Commander on this one. I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t heard anything about terrorists in the country. It would be best to keep him up there until the threat has been neutralized.”

“Or forgotten, which is what they might want to do with it, sir,” said Rabb.

“No, Commander, I don’t think so. Remember, we haven’t had a terrorist attack on our soil since 9/11. The government has worked very hard to make sure something like that is never repeated.”

Tanner took the conversation in with a gradual look of disgust growing on his face. “Excuse me, but with all due respect, we have the evidence to prove the innocence of two of our greatest war heroes. Why are we talking like we’re going to sit on it?”

“Because, Ms. Tanner, those same two war heroes, especially one who just lost his father-in-law and wife to a well-planned assassination attempt, would become reanimated, learn of this news and will want revenge.” Chegwidden leaned over and tapped the disc with his finger for emphasis. “The damage they by themselves would cause would make this tape look like a cartoon.”

The intercom buzzed on Chegwidden’s desk. “Excuse me.” He pressed the button. “Yes, Tiner?”

“Excuse me, sir. Lieutenant Singer has the information you were looking for, and request permission to bring it in.”

“Granted, Tiner. Thank you.” Chegwidden released the button and grabbed the disc as if to put it in his desk, but then pressed the intercom button again. “Tiner, could you come in here for a second, please?” He released it as the door opened and Lieutenant. Lauren Singer walked in, followed closely by Petty Officer Jason Tiner.

Singer walked past Mac and Rabb without a greeting and placed a folder on the admiral’s desk. “Here is the list of possible terrorist sightings in the past two weeks, sir. I was able to pull photos on four of them. It’s not a big list.”

Chegwidden thumbed through the list and sighed. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” He looked at Teri Tanner. “Ms. Tanner, this is one of my JAG attorneys, Lt. Singer, and my yeoman, Petty Officer Tiner.”

Singer looked at Tanner with a sense of recognition. “Ms. Tanner. You are a reporter, correct?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. I am.”

Singer smiled. “Excellent. That is a great profession. Perhaps you would like to do a story on JAG someday? I’m quite sure officers like the admiral and myself would make excellent subjects.”

Rabb and Mac looked at each other. Mac rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

“That would be an excellent idea, Lieutenant. I’m quite sure the admiral would allow that to happen in the near future, wouldn’t you agree, sir?”

Chegwidden looked at Singer. “That will be all, Lieutenant, thank you.”

Singer smiled at the admiral and moved towards the door. Tiner stepped aside to let her pass and moved to the desk as the door closed. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Chegwidden handed him the disc. “Yes, find two recorders and make a copy of this disc for me. Bring Gunny Galindez or Top Torres in on it, but other than the people in this office, those two men, and Lt. Roberts, no one else should see what’s on it without my consent. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Tiner looked at Tanner. “Excuse me, Ms. Tanner? May I have your autograph?”

“That will be all, Tiner.”

************

Jen sat in her wheelchair by the front door leading to the MAC flight airport, taking a big drag off of a cigarette. She realized that she had never smoked the one she lit before…

No…

Fighting back a sniffle, she took another drag as a second car pulled in front of the airport. A somewhat familiar Naval lieutenant got out of the driver’s side and went to the back door to permit Admiral Chegwidden and Commander Rabb to exit
the car.

Rabb looked around before seeing Jen and started walking in her direction, but stopped when he saw the cigarette. “Uh, Jen, what are you doing?”

“Don’t start, Harm. This is about the only thing that keeps me sane, OK?” She took another drag. “I had to hear the riot act from Mom for an hour last night.”

Rabb nodded, knowing that she is not going to heal overnight. “How long did the doctor say you’re going to be off your feet?”

“For about a month. Then I start rehabbing, but I think I’m going to do my rehab at Chapel Hill. Mom said that after everything’s settled she’s going to come and stay up there with me for a couple of weeks, maybe months. Who knows?” She sighed. “I’m wondering what she’s going to do with the kids. Trying to keep them straight and help me at the same time. It’s going to be a pain.”

“You have each other, and that’s counts,” said Chegwidden. “You two need each other now more than ever.” He looked at his watch and nodded at Roberts, who smiled at Jen as he went inside the airport. “Bud’s going to see if your flight is ready, and also to make sure everything’s loaded up and ready to go.” He left out the part of her father’s body being loaded in the cargo section of the plane.

The airport front door opened and Maggie Coleman exited the building, followed by her sister. “Harm, Admiral. You didn’t have to drive all the way up here.”

“Well, we’re sorry that we can’t go any further with you, Miss Coleman, but we want to let you know that all of JAG will be thinking about you during this trying time for you and your family.”

“Thank you, Admiral. I really appreciate it very much.” She turned to Jen, who had just put her cigarette out in the ashtray beside her. “Are you ready, Hun? They’re going to put you on first.”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute, Mom. I need to talk to Harm in private.”

Maggie nodded, and she and the admiral walked into the building. Harm squatted in front of Jen. “What’s up?”

“Harm, are they going to release Mike?”

“Well, we’re going to have to wait and see. Those same terrorists that went after you are still out there, and if Mike was on the street, well, I’ll feel bad for the poor soul who pissed him off.”

Jen nodded once and held her arms out. Harm sat up and gently embraced her. “I’m going to miss you, Harm.”

“I’m going to miss you, too, kiddo. When I find out anything, you and your mom will be the first to know.”

An audible beep sounded from Rabb’s jacket pocket. He pulled himself away from Jen and reached for his global. “Hmm.  Mac never sends me a text message.”

Jen looked at Rabb as his face fell to one full of fury. He closed it up and replaced it in his pocket. “Dammit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as I find the admiral. C’mon.” Harm went behind Jen’s chair and grabbed the handles, pulling her backwards into the building. Once he was clear of the doors, he swung the chair 90 degrees so Jen was now in front. Quickly he steered the chair over to where the admiral was standing with Bud and the Coleman sisters. The stroller holding the triplets was mercifully silent for the moment.

“Admiral, you’re not going to like this,” said Harm as he drew closer to the group.

“What’s on your mind, Commander?”

“Mac just sent me a message. Webb’s at the office.”

“So? Webb’s always there, usually with a trick up his sleeve or if he wants….” Chegwidden’s voice trailed off as his eyes widened.

Rabb nodded. “He’s there for the disc.”

************

“Webb, you are crazy. What makes you think that recording is going with you?”

Lieutenant Col. MacKenzie stood in front of the admiral’s office with her hands on her hips. Her gaze bore down hard on the man standing in front of her, an equally penetrating stare returned to the Marine.

Clayton Webb has been a participant with and against JAG in some of their games. Obviously he was willing to play this one. “Colonel, I understand what you are doing and you can stop being the bouncer for one of those clubs in Georgetown. I’ll be more than happy to sit and talk to Lieutenant. Sims or Tiner until the admiral returns.”

“No, you will sit and talk to me in my office.”

Webb sighed. “Very well.”

Mac waved him forward ahead of her. “Don’t think I’m letting you out of my sight.” She looked toward Tiner, Lt. Sims and Gunnery Sgt. Galindez who were gathered in the center of JAG’s administration section. “No one goes into the admiral’s office without my permission.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said all three in unison.

Mac turned and went into her office. Webb was already seated in one of the chairs in front. She closed the door and sat down behind her desk. “Webb, what is all this about?”

Webb leaned forward. “Mac, I like Mike Sanders just like anyone else, and I feel bad for what happened to his family. I really do. When I first heard about this disc, I was for one ready for some payback to be done.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper out, which he held out to Mac. “Then I got this.”

Mac took the paper and unfolded it, but didn’t even need to read anything else except the top of the page. “A search warrant?”

“The government is not taking any chances, Colonel. In order to smooth over relations overseas, they will risk having a few terrorists running around here for a few days, and risk the displeasure of Mike Sanders…in less than fifty years. They want that disc.”

“This is ludicrous, Webb. The government needs to own up to the fact that two innocent men need to be released.”

“It doesn’t matter, Colonel. Even if you get a new trial with the evidence, the government will make a motion to suppress it for the good of the nation.” Webb leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry, Mac, but like it or not, I have to leave here with that disc.”

The intercom buzzed on Mac’s desk. She pressed the button. “Yes, Tiner?”

“Ma’am, the admiral and commander are back. They’re waiting for you and Special Agent Webb in the admiral’s office.”

“Thank you, Tiner.” Mac released the button and rose from her chair. “We’ll have to see what the admiral thinks about this.”

Mac rose from her chair and led Webb out of her office back to where they faced off minutes ago. Tiner, sitting at his desk, nodded at the colonel as she walked by. She knocked on the door and pushed it open.

Chegwidden stood behind his desk, with Rabb standing beside the fireplace, not acknowledging the newcomers. On the admiral’s desk laid the disc.

Mac’s eyes widened in shock. “Sir, you can’t!”

Chegwidden held up a hand. “Colonel, we have no choice. I was on the phone in great length with the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of the Navy, and Webb’s boss at the CIA. Their orders stand.”

Chegwidden lowered his hand to pick up the disc and held it out to Webb. “Mr. Webb, is this what you’re looking for?”

Webb walked over and accepted the tape. “Admiral, for what it’s worth, this is over my head, too.”

“I know, Webb. Wouldn’t be a first time, huh?”

Webb started to reply but decided against it. He nodded to the admiral and Mac and looked briefly at Rabb, who still ignored him. Shrugging slightly, he turned around and exited the office.

As soon as the door closed, Chegwidden sat down. “Commander, you can drop the act now.”

Rabb looked at the admiral and grinned. “How did I do, sir?”

“You performed admirably. Colonel, you too.”

Mac looked dumbfounded.  “Excuse me but did I miss something here?”

“Probably, Colonel, which played to our advantage. You remember when I asked Tiner to make a copy of the disc?”

Mac thought back and then smiled. “So they can have the original, then?”

“The original? No, we want them to think that they have the original, but all they have is the copy.” Chegwidden pulled a side drawer opened and reached in, pulling out a disc
similar to the one Webb left with. “We still have the original.”

Mac smiled. “All right, so what are we going to do now, though? If we try to come forth with a new trial, the government will simply suppress the evidence for the sake of national security.”

Chegwidden nodded, looking at Rabb with a smile. Rabb smiled back.

“We’re going to take it underground. Let the small political newsletters, the internet sites, the freelance reporters, anyone who is in for the importance of it, and not the money.”

Chegwidden stopped when an audible knock was heard at his door. “Come.”

The door opened and Teri Tanner entered with a stack of manila folders and a data pad cradled in her arm.  Not to mention the smile on her face. Chegwidden rose and pointed at her.

“And she will be the one to do it.”

FIN

************

In the second story, “Redemption – Volume 2: Awakening,” the Federation, twenty-five years later, finds itself under constant attack from an unknown enemy, but not before making an unexpected and historic discovery.

CHAPTER ONE

Captain’s log, stardate 44333.3. The Enterprise has been
fully repaired at Starbase 121, and we now have replacement crew
members for those who were killed battling the Garthusians or the
Galactic Empire. Also, Ensign Wesley Crusher is back in full
health and is resuming his duties at the conn.
Meanwhile, since the Battle of Feronium, there has been no
Garthusian activity within Federation space. Attempts at
communication with Vraris have failed. The Romulan Star Empire
has also been quiet since Feronium.
There is a mystery about the Romulans… why did they betray
us at the Battle of Feronium? As of yet, we have no solid
answers. It has been suggested that the Romulans and the
Garthusians are allies, but that is difficult to prove. The
Klingons are subscribing to this theory, believing that the
“dishonorable cowards” decided to join the stronger side than risk
a fight to the death. Anyway, communication attempts with Romulus
have also met with failure.
The Enterprise has been given the task of determing the
relationship between the Garthusians and the Romulans. It will
not be easy. Right now, the Enterprise is on a course for the
Romulan Neutral Zone so we can begin our investigation. Starfleet
is also strengthening defences along the Federation-Garthusian
border.

Lieutenant Commander Data raised an eyebrow, emulating
surprise. “A distress call?”
“Yes, sir,” Woorf said. “From within the Romulan Neutral
Zone.”
“Put the vessel on the communications system, Lieutenant,”
Data ordered.
The speakers crackled to life. “This is Captain John
Hommand of the freighter-” Static sounded loudly, then silence.
“Can you determine the status of the distressed?” asked
Data.
“Affirmative, sir.” Worf scanned his tactical console.
“The freighter is the Kobayashi Maru, Gabriel-class. It’s shields
are down, it’s warp core is threatening to breach, their life-
support is down, and they have five hull breaches.”
“Estimated survival time, Mr. Worf?”
“Twelve minutes, Captain.”
“Distance?”
“Ten million kilometers.”
Data considered the situation. The Kobayashi Maru was
severely crippled, and was within the Romulan Neutral Zone. It
was out of transporter range, so the Enterprise would have to go
into the Neutral Zone to beam out the survivors. However,
entering the Neutral Zone would be a gross violation of the Treaty
of Algernon. It could lead to war with the Romulan Empire. It
would take only a minute at most to evacuate the freighter,
though.
“What are your orders, sir?” Commander Riker, who was
sitting on Data’s right, asked.
Data came up with a course of action. “Operations,” he
said, “launch a probe. See if we can get a visual on the
Kobayashi Maru.”
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Viers said. She touched a few buttons.
“Probe launched. It will take it two minutes to get within visual
range.”
“Acknowledged, Ensign.” Data turned to Riker, who had a
questioning look on his face. “We must verify what our sensor
readings have told us. I suspect that it may be a ruse by the
Romulans, in order to draw us into the Neutral Zone. That will
give them an excuse to take the Enterprise.”
Riker nodded an turned away from Data.
“Captain,” Viers said, “I have a visual.”
“On screen,” Data said.
The freighter Kobayashi Maru did in fact appear on the main
viewer at the front of the bridge. It was a real ship; it wasn’t
a fake. Debris floated around the Kobayashi Maru, and five hull
breaches could be seen.
“Life-signs?” Data asked.
“Fourteen,” Viers replied. “Most of them are faint.”
It could still be a deception, Data thought. “Species?”
“Five humans, four Vulcans, two Andorians, and three
Bajorans.”
No Romulans, Data thought, getting out of the command chair.
He approached the fore section of the bridge. The distress call
did appear to be genuine. “We must enter the Neutral Zone and
rescue the survivors of the accident.”
“Captain-” Riker said.
“I am aware of the implications, Mr. Riker,” Data said,
facing him. “I also have no intention of provoking the Romulans.
We will initiate a touch-and-go transport.”
“Touch-and-go, sir?” Viers asked.
“We will approach the freighter at a warp velocity, drop out
of warp for the duration of the transporting process, then warp
back into Federation space.”
“What we did at Gravesworld,” Riker said. “It’s risky.”
The mention of Gravesworld sparked memories in Data’s mind.
Doctor Ira Graves, before his body died, had transfered his
consciousness into Data. Graves briefly controlled Data, and
caused much confusion among the Enterprise crew. They eventually
figured out what Graves had done, and after Graves had hurt
several people “accidently” with his android body, he decided to
surrender control, and transfered his knowledge into the computer.
This is no time for reminitions, Data told himself. He
turned to the main viewer, and set about the task at hand.
“Ensign Crusher,” Data said, “lay in a course for a position
twenty thousand kilometers away from the Kobayashi Maru at maximum
warp. After the transports are complete, you will take us back
into the Federation at the same velocity.”
“Aye, sir,” Crusher said, entering the command into the
conn.
Data sat in the command chair and activated the intercom.
“Bridge to Transporter Room Three.”
“Chief O’Brien here, sir.”
“After we have reached the beam-out coordinates, transport
the Kobayashi Maru survivors onto the Enterprise. Speed would be
advisable.”
“Ready, sir. Transporter Room Two will help with the
process so we can get them all in the same six seconds.”
“Make use of whatever resources you need, Mr. O’Brien,” Data
said.
“Aye, sir.”
“Data out.” He turned to Ensign Crusher. “Is the
Enterprise ready?”
“It’s ready, Captain,” Crusher said.
“Make it so.”
The Enterprise sped into warp briefly, then ten seconds
later, slowed to impulse. Seven seconds passed.
“O’Brien to bridge,” the intercom said, “the survivors are
aboard.”
“Excellent,” Data said. “Mr. Crusher, engage.”
“Yes, Captain,” Crusher said.
Just as Crusher was about to key in the commands, the deck
lurched brutally. The lighting dimmed to emergency lighting only.
The sirens of red alert howled. The conn exploded in an
impressive array of yellow sparks, throwing Crusher from his seat.
He landed seven feet away from Data.
Wesley Crusher’s face was burned beyond recognition. His
uniform was covered with dark black scorch marks. His hands were
severely burned as well. Needless to say, he was dead.
Data did not have emotions, so he did not experience sorrow
over Crusher’s death. However, he had become “used” to the boy in
a sense, and would “miss” Crusher.
Data examined the conn. It would require extensive repairs.
“Ensign Viers, transfer navigational control to your console.”
“Yes, sir,” Viers said, sadness in her voice.
Data turned to Worf. “Mr. Worf, what happened?”
Worf looked even more angry than usual. “Six Romulan
Warbirds decloaked around us.” He growled. “The flagship is
hailing us. They wish to discuss the terms of our surrender!”
“On screen, Mr. Worf,” Data said, getting out of the command
chair.
“But sir-” Worf began.
“On screen, Lieutenant,” Data said forcefully.
Worf scowled even more deeply. “Yes, sir.”
Data turned to the main viewer. A familiar image appeared
there.
“Why, if it isn’t the Enterprise,” Tomulak said. “What a
pleasant surprise.”
“Commander-” Data began.
“You haven’t heard?” Tomulak said, sounding hurt. “It’s
‘Admiral Tomulak’ now. I was promoted three months ago.”
“My apologies. Admiral, I will not surrender the
Enterprise.”
Tomulak frowned. “You are grossly outmatched. You cannot
win. Surrender is your only alternative.”
“I am afraid not,” Data said. “We have a corbomite device.”
Tomulak burst out laughing. “A corbomite device!?” he said
skeptically. He continued laughing. “I know that trick,
Enterprise. Captain Kirk came up with that years ago. I think
you’d call it a century.”
“This is no ploy,” Data replied. “We have a device which
can allow us to establish different polarities of warp field at
each warp nacelle. If we engage the warp drive while such a
device is in operation, everything within one hundred million
kilometers of us will be completely destroyed.”
The humor left Tomulak’s face. He scowled. “You will be
destroyed as well.”
“That will be the case. However, so will your fleet of six
warbirds. Consider the dishonor your family will have if one
Galaxy-class starship destroys six D’Deridex-class Romulan
Warbirds under your command.”
Tomulak let out a deep breath. “You won’t do it.”
“I am an android, sir. I do not lie.”
Tomulak leaned forward, and forcefully said, “I will take my
chances. Prepare to die.” The channel was closed, and six
warbirds appeared on the main viewer.
The scenario is lost, Data thought. No matter what he tried
from now, the Enterprise would be destroyed.
“We should go out in honor!” Worf said. “Let’s try the
corbomite device! Take the enemy with us!”
“I agree,” Riker said. “If we’re going to go down, they
might as well come along.”
“Such an act may start a war with the Romulans,” Data
reminded Riker. The Enterprise started shaking from continuous
disruptor blasts from the warbirds.
“Letting us be picked off may start one as well,” Worf
protested. “If those warbirds destroy us easily, they will think
of the Federation as weak. However, if we manage to destroy those
P’Taks attacking us, then they might think twice!”
“That is consistant with the Romulan way of thinking,”
Counselor Deanna Troi said.
Data considered the comments of the bridge crew. They were
right. “We will proceed,” he announced. He activated the
intercom. “Bridge to Engineering.”
“Barclay here, sir!” came the reply. Lieutenant Commander
Geordi La Forge must have been dead or injured.
“Give the warp nacelles separate polarities,” Data said,
calm as ever. “When that is done, engage the warp drive.”
A loud explosion was heard over the intercom, then Barclay’s
voice. “Are you cra-”
“Make it so,” Data said.
Quite nervously, Barclay replied, “Y-y-yes, s-sir. Barclay
out.”
Data waited patiently as Barclay made the modifications.
The Romulans continued firing their disruptors at the Enterprise.
Each hit shook the ship terribly. By the time Barclay announced
that he was done, every member of the bridge crew was dead except
for Data and Riker.
“Well,” Riker said with sorrow, “I guess this is it.”
“Good-bye, Commander Riker,” Data said. “You have been a
good friend.” He stood up and looked around the bridge. “Mr.
Barclay, engage the warp drive.”
“Aye, Captain,” Barclay said over the intercom.
Then, a bright white light consumed Data’s vision…

…And then he was looking at black walls with bright orange
grids. The cubical room he was in was the holodeck. He heard the
holodeck doors open behind him. Data whirled around, and saw
Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Commander William T. Riker.
“Was my performance satisfactory?” Data asked innocently.
Picard got an amused expression on his face. “Well,
Commander… You did manage to rescue the Kobayashi Maru crew,
which is farther than a lot of people get. You managed to scare
the willies out of Admiral Tomulak. Your thinking was right on.
By taking those six Romulan Warbirds with you, you did manage to
prevent a Federation-Romulan war.” Picard walked up to Data and
shook his hand. “Congratulations. You might not have won, but
you didn’t lose, either.”
“Thank you, sir,” Data said. “That means much to me.”
Commander Riker walked up to Picard and Data. “You did
better than I did, Data. I never got close to the freighter, and
once, I accidently destroyed the thing.”
“Sir, right now, I have more command experience than you did
as a cadet. It would not be fair to say that I did better than
you, because a lieutenant commander would naturally have more
experience at command than a cadet. Likewise, right now, you have
more command experience than I do.”
“Not necessarily,” Picard said. “Remember James T. Kirk?”
Data stood there, processing the information. “Ah, yes,
sir. Kirk commanded the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 and the USS
Enterprise NCC-1701-A. He also briefly held the rank of admiral
between 2270 and 2285. He was killed on the maiden voyage of the
USS Enterprise NCC-1701-B-”
Picard raised his right hand. “Yes, we know, Data. He’s
the most famous captain in Starfleet history. What I mean is, he
often made better command decisions than people with much more
command experience.”
“I see, sir,” Data said. His head twitched for a moment.
“Captain, I do believe that Lieutenant Worf has schdeuled a
session in Holodeck Two for this time.”
At that moment, Worf appeared at the entrance to the
holodeck. “Are you finished?” he asked, annoyed.
“We were just leaving,” Picard said. He, Riker, and Data
exited the holodeck, and Worf entered it. The doors closed behind
him.

Lieutenant Worf strode through the corridors of the military
complex, semi-automatic pistil at the ready. A pool of water was
directly ahead of him. A large window was the the right of the
water. Two barrels of toxic waste were located nearby the water.
He would have to be cautious.
Worf could smell the monsters that were in the complex with
him. He could also smell the stench of the dead bodies that were
in the room with him. The monsters had killed large numbers of
people in various military complexes. Some of the monsters were
walking undead, and some were straight from Hell itself. It was
Worf’s job to avenge the death of his comrades, and to rid the
complexes of the Hellish menace.
Worf was now standing right by the pool of water. He
paused, listening for monsters. He heard several. Loud roars
erupted from the room to Worf’s left. Worf turned in that
direction, and saw several Undead Seargents. They were at the top
of a staircase in the adjacent room, and they had shotguns aimed
at Worf. They began firing.
Worf tried to dodge the blasts, and fired his own weapon at
the Seargents. He shot each Seargent four times, and they fell to
the floor, dead. Worf had taken two hits, but they weren’t
direct, so his health was at eighty percent.
Worf thought this game, Doom, was fun. It very much
surprised Worf that this game was made by humans. Of course, Worf
thought, Doom is based on a human computer game from the twentieth
century… Still and all, one did not normally associate humans
with games such as these.
Worf still heard monsters breathing in the adjacent room.
He strode in there, ready for battle.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard looked over the reports. The
Romulans were still being quiet, and they weren’t talking. It was
almost as if they had gone into another isolationist stage.
Picard wondered why they were doing that.
One of the many questions we must answer, Picard thought.
He put away the reports and went onto the bridge. Commander Riker
departed the command chair, allowing Picard to sit there.
“No unusual activity among the Romulans or Garthusians,
sir,” Riker reported.
Picard nodded. “I still don’t get it…”
“Sir,” Ensign Crusher at the conn said, “this lack of
activity could be defined as ‘unusual’.”
“That it could,” Picard acknowledged.
A loud beeping sounded from the tactical console. Everyone
looked to tactical as Lieutenant Norman reported, “We are
receiving a distress call.”
Picard frowned. “Pipe it in.”
The speakers crackled. “Captain… Freemont… Endeavor…
attacked…” Then nothing.
“The Romulans!” Riker said.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Number One,” Picard said.
Seceretly, he shared his first officer’s sentiments. “Where is
the Endeavor?”
Norman checked the tactical console. “Coordinates ten mark
twenty-three, bearing one zero one mark two.”
All eyes were on Picard. Picard turned to Crusher. “Lay in
a course for those coordinates, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir.” Crusher turned his attention to the conn.
Picard returned his attention to tactical. “Can you tell me
who’s attacking them?”
“No, sir.”
Picard faced the main viewer. “Red alert, battlestations.”
He pointed forward. “Maximum warp, engage!”
The red alert sirens sounded as the crew rushed to their
battlestations. Ensign Crusher pressed the engage button, and the
Enterprise went into subspace.

Lieutenant Worf emptied the ammunition from his chain gun
into the Cyberdemon. The Cyberdemon continued advancing on Worf,
firing its rockets. Worf’s health was at twenty-nine percent. If
he got hit by one more rocket, his character would die, and he
would have to start the level over with a pistil with fifty
bullets in it, and a fist. Not very appealing weapons.
After Worf emptied his chain gun, he had no ammunition left.
He would have to get up close to the Cyberdemon and use his chain
saw. That would mean certain death for the space marine he
played. He had only been killed once before, and did not wish to
repeat the experience.
Worf dodged a rocket, and saw an alternative to sawing the
Cyberdemon. The Cyberdemon was close to a group of barrels that
stood between it and Worf. If Worf sawed open one of the barrels,
it would explode, and set off a chain reaction which would make
all of the barrels explode. Worf would have to get so close it
would mean certain death, but he would be killed anyway. There
were ten barrels total; more than enough to take care of the
Cyberdemon.
Worf readied his chain saw, and moved towards the barrels.
He dropped to the ground, narrowly missing another rocket. The
Cyberdemon aimed its weapon at Worf, while he was on the ground,
and fired. The rocket left the launcher, and sailed towards Worf.
My character will die after all, Worf thought. He couldn’t
possibly get up and get out of the way before the rocket hit him.
He’d have to start the level again.
Just as Worf was thinking that, the rocket hit the barrel
nearest Worf. The barrel exploded, causing the other barrels to
explode. Worf was sufficiently far away that he wasn’t killed,
but the Cyberdemon wasn’t so lucky. It imploded with a roar,
leaving only hooves behind.
Worf gave a howl of victory. He stood up, and checked his
health meter; it said two percent. He would have to find a health
power-up soon.
A loud roar sounded from a distant hallway. Down the
corridor, an Undead Human teleported in. The thing shot Worf,
killing his character.
Worf gave a loud roar of anger. He had killed a Cyberdemon,
only to be picked off by the weakest of adversaries! While
everything around him paused, the computer said, calmly as ever,
“Do you wish to restart this level?”
“Yes!” Worf shouted. “I will make that monster pay!”
“Restart-” the computer began, then stopped. It continued
with, “Red alert has been called. Do you wish to continue Doom?”
“No,” Worf replied. “Computer, end program.”
The enviroment surrounding Worf vanished, to be replaced by
the familiar orange-on-black grid. The chain saw and space marine
uniform vanished, and the holodeck doors slid open. Worf exited
the holodeck, and rushed to the bridge.

Captain’s log, supplemental. We have received a distress
call from the USS Endeavor. They have been attacked, but as of
yet, we have been unable to determine the identity of the culprits
as of yet, however, we do have our suspicions that the Romulans
are responsible.

Captain Picard faced the main viewer, and said, “On screen.”
The image of the remains of the Endeavor appeared. Numerous
debris floated around.
“The debris field is consistant with an Ambassador-class
starship,” Data reported.
“Those P’Taks,” Worf muttered under his breath.
“Who did this?” Riker asked.
Data’s hands danced across the Ops console. “There are
heavy concetrations of positrons, sir. This would suggest
Garthusian weaponry.”
Picard leapt out of the command chair. “Are there any
trails?”
“Yes, sir. Gravitational eddy currents on a course of nine
five two mark three, bearing one hundred twenty-three mark seven.”

“Mr. Crusher, lay in an intercept course,” Picard ordered.
“Mr. Worf, inform Starfleet Command.”
“Yes, sir,” Crusher and Worf said in unison.
Data turned around to face Picard. “Captain, that course
takes us directly into the Neutral Zone.”
“I don’t think we have to worry much about the treaty at
this point,” Riker stated.
“Quite right, Number One,” Picard said. “However, we will
need some legitimate excuse for entering the Neutral Zone. As I
understand it, scientific research is allowed?”
“It is doubtful that will work,” Worf replied. “Only if the
fight goes badly for any Romulan commander we come across.”
“Still, we must follow the enemy vessel.” Picard stood up.
“It is now apparent that the Garthusians are in this area of
space. It is also likely that they are either allies with the
Romulans, or are moving to attack them. Mr. Data?”
“Their course would take them into Romulan space,” Data
reported. “I cannot estimate their speed, though. If it is
indeed a Garthusian sphereship we are chasing, it may very well be
there already.”
“One starship cannot defeat a Garthusian sphereship,” Worf
said. “We should bring along additional ships. It is not
honorable to charge foolishly into battle.”
“The nearest starship is a day away,” Picard answered. “We
must go now.” He walked up to the fore section of the bridge.
“Ensign, engage!”

Subcommander Tae’lok glimpsed at his board as a loud beeping
emitted from it. A Federation starship had entered the Neutral
Zone, and was on a pursuit course. He reported his findings to
Commander Greair.
Greair snorted. “We’re cloaked. They can’t see us.”
“Nonetheless, we are being followed.”
Greair frowned. “Take us to battle alert. Lay in an
intercept course for the starship, maximum warp.”
The crew rushed to comply with the commander’s orders. The
sirens of battle alert howled throughout the ship.
“Astrogation ready, Commander,” Lieutenant Jucluaw
announced.
“Execute,” Greair ordered.

Fifteen minutes later, Captain Picard was drumming his
fingers on the armrests of the command chair. It seemed like the
Enterprise was traveling at light speed, instead of many times so.
“Captain,” Worf said, alarmed, “a Romulan D’Deridex-class
Warbird has decloaked along our course, and is on an intercept
course.”
“Red alert, all hands to battlestations,” Picard commanded.
“Slow to impulse.”
The red alert Klaxons sounded as the crew rushed to carry
out their orders.
“The warbird is slowing to impulse,” Worf reported.
“Raising shields, arming weapons systems.” He paused. “We are
being hailed.”
“On screen,” Picard said, getting out of the command chair
and walking in between the conn and Ops consoles.
A young, smiling Romulan appeared on the main viewer. “I am
Commander Greair of the Imperial Romulan Warbird Kaelax.
Federation vessel, you are in violation of the Treaty of
Algernon.”
“This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship
Enterprise. We are following the course of a vessel that attacked
and destroyed the Federation Starship Endeavor inside Federation
space. We wish to bring whoever is responsible to justice.”
“I see. Can you tell me who you are looking for, Picard?
Perhaps we can help.”
“Garthusian weapons destroyed the Endeavor,” Picard said.
“However, our sensor scans of the area pick up no Garthusian
vessels, and we don’t know the Garthusians to have cloaking
technology.”
Greair laughed. “How do you know they don’t have cloaking
technology? They might not have used it against Starfleet, but
now they’re going against the Romulan Star Empire!”
Picard scowled. “Make all the jokes you want, Commander,
but the Romulans have a serious situation on their hands. Even
one Garthusian sphere could be devastating.”
“We are very much aware of that, Picard,” Greair said, humor
still in his voice. “The Imperial Fleet is ready for whatever
enemies it may come across.” He paused for a minute, then
continued. “Captain, I’d suggest that you retreat into Federation
territory. We wouldn’t want a war between our two peoples, would
we?” The Kaelax cut the channel.
“The Kaelax has cloaked, sir,” Worf said with a hint of
anger.
Commander Riker immediately said, “We can’t let them face
the Garthusians by themselves.”
“They were perfectly content to leave us alone during the
Borg invasion and the Garthusian one,” Picard said bitterly. “We
can do the same for them.” He sat back down in the command chair.
“Meanwhile, we can’t linger in the Neutral Zone. Mr. Crusher,
take us back into Federation space at maximum warp.”
“Aye, sir,” Crusher said, and began working the conn. Soon
after, the Enterprise blazed into warp.
Picard turned to Troi. “Counselor, what did you sense from
the Romulan commander?”
“He was hiding something,” Troi said. “He was also bending
the truth a little.”
Worf growled as Picard nodded. “I got that impression as
well.” He stood up. “Number One, you have the bridge.” He
walked into his ready room.

CHAPTER TWO

Admiral Skrell was reading the reports on the Romulan
situation. He had a particular interest in the Romulans; he was
concerned about what went on with his cousins. So far, it was not
yet clear whether the Romulan Star Empire was allied with the
Garthusians or not. As he was thinking about that, one particular
report caught his eye.

From: United Space Ship Enterprise NCC-1701-D

Starship Commander: Captain Jean-Luc Picard

Report: This is Captain Picard. The USS Endeavor has been
attacked and destroyed; traces of Garthusian weapons were found in
the area. A trail of gravitational eddies was also found in the
area. It led into the Romulan Neutral Zone and on to Romulan
space. We followed the trail, and was intercepted by the Imperial
Warbird Kaelax inside the Neutral Zone. Its commander, Greair,
told us to withdraw into Federation territory or face war. I told
him about the possible Garthusian threat, but he seemed
unconcerned. It is still unclear as to whether the Romulans and
the Garthusians are allies or not. My recommendation is that we
go on a fleet wide Alert Status Four. Also, we need to get
Starfleet Intelligence to work right away. It is imperative to
the security of the United Federation of Planets that we find out
exactly what is going on.

Signed,
Jean-Luc Picard
Jean-Luc Picard

Priority One access only!

Skrell read the report impassively, as was typical among
Vulcans. He considered the situation and Picard’s
recommendations. What Picard was requesting was rational enough.
Skrell decided to follow Picard’s recommendation that Starfleet go
to Alert Status Four, and he decided to figure out why
Intelligence didn’t seem to be doing its job.

Captain Picard faced the main viewer. “On screen, Mr.
Worf.”
The stern features of Admiral Skrell appeared. He had
piercing black eyes, short black hair, and fairly wrinkle-free
skin. Picard estimated that the Vulcan was about one hundred
twenty years old. There was a certain grimness about Skrell that
Picard found alarming; normally, you couldn’t tell that sort of
thing with Vulcans.
“Captain Picard,” Skrell said, “I am taking your suggestion
and I am putting Starfleet on Alert Status Four.”
Picard nodded. “Thank you, Admiral.”
Quickly changing the subject, Skrell said, “Starfleet
Intelligence seems to be having trouble getting information from
its operatives within the Romulan Empire. It appears that none of
them have reported in since stardate 44123.7.”
“Alarming news,” Picard replied. “The Romulans must have
caught them all.”
“That was my theory. Picard, there is no way that the
Romulans could have caught all of our nine hundred operatives in
the three years that most have been there. Therefore, I am
assigning the Enterprise and the Lexington to find out what has
been transpiring.”
“A daunting task,” Picard commented.
“You are famous for completing daunting tasks with the most
satisfactory result. You will meet the Lexington at Starbase 58.
I understand your two ships have worked together before.”
“That is correct,” Picard said with a touch of ruefulness.
“Most satisfactory. Skrell out.” The main viewer’s image
returned to normal space.
“What are your orders, Captain?” Riker asked.
“Mr. Worf, take us to Alert Status Four. Mr. Crusher, lay
in a course for Starbase 58, warp seven… Make it so.”

Captain Diana Grayson of the Starship Lexington strode onto
the bridge of the starbase. She had been practicing her
Klingonese when Commander Amundson had called her up to the
bridge, and she wasn’t happy. Grayson found Amundson near the
security station, conversing with Lieutenant Walters, the chief of
security on Starbase 58.
“Ah, Captain,” Amundson said cheerily, waving her over. “I
hope I didn’t bother you.”
Grayson walked over to the security station. “Get it over
with,” Grayson said angrily.
Amundson frowned. “Well… We’ve received a communique
from Admiral Skrell. It appears that the Enterprise and the
Lexington will be working together to help solve the Romulan
mystery.”
Grayson cursed under her breath. “Damn. Where are we
supposed to rendevous?”
“The Enterprise is coming here at warp seven. They’ll be
here in a day and a half. Once that’s done, you and Captain
Picard will receive additional orders.”
“Great. Keep me posted.” Grayson exited the bridge
swiftly. Her thoughts and emotions were in a hurricane. She
didn’t want to have to serve with Commander Riker again, but it
seemed that Starfleet was yet again forcing them too. The trip
into the Seraris Regions had been enough. Now this?

Commander William T. Riker stared at his drink woefully. He
seemed to be in deep thought. Guinan decided to see what was
wrong. She walked up to his table and sat down. “What’s on your
mind?”
Riker took a sip of his drink. “Nothing.”
“Riker, I know you better than that. I’ve heard that you
have some history with the captain of the Lexington.”
Riker sighed. “All right. I do.”
“Care to tell me what she did to you that was so terrible?”
“Guinan-”
“This isn’t going to go away, Commander,” Guinan said
forcefully. “Now, spill it.”
Riker sighed again. “If you say so.” He began his story.

THE USS HOOD

Lieutenant Commander William T. Riker of the Starship Hood
took the command chair. Captain De Soto was gone at a Starfleet
conference, and Riker had been given command. This wasn’t the
first time Riker had been given command for an extended period of
time, but this time, it seemed different. He couldn’t quite put
his finger on it.
Lieutenant Diana Grayson at the conn flashed him a smile.
“You like it when the captain’s gone, don’t you?”
Riker gave a little grin of his own. “Well, I do like
command.”
Grayson chuckled. “You’ll have your own command someday.
It’s going to be a ship like the Excelsior or Enterprise.”
Riker smiled. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”
“I’m glad that you’re glad. First, though, you have to get
rid of that baby face! Grow a beard!”
“I’ll consider that, Lieutenant.” Riker got out of the
command chair and walked up to the conn. He leaned over and
whispered into her ear, “Dinner at eighteen hundred?”
Grayson smiled even more broadly. “Sounds great,” she
whispered back.
Riker walked back to the command chair, pleased with
himself. The science officer, Lieutenant Commander Skralle,
raised an eyebrow.
“What’s on your mind, Commander?” Riker asked the Vulcan.
“Nothing of consequence, sir,” Skralle said, and returned
his attention to the science station.
Riker turned his attention to the main viewer. The Hood was
traveling at impulse speed, right next to the Paulson Nebula.
While the captain was away, the science department had requested
that the ship go to the Paulson Nebula, which was nearby, and run
detailed sensor scans. Riker had agreed, and now here they were.
The Hood had been at the nebula for a day now, and planned to stay
for an additional two days.
All that changed when the tactical officer, Lieutenant Greg
Pierce, announced, “Commander, we’re receiving a distress call.”
Riker bit his lip. He wondered what could be going on by
the Paulson Nebula. It wasn’t located near any hostile empires,
and the region was sparsely populated. “Elaborate, Lieutenant.”
“Imperium is requesting that the nearest Federation starship
render aid at once. They say the stability of the government is
at stake, and that there would be no hope without help.”
“Can you raise them?”
Pierce punched his tactical console, and shook his head.
“No response. Also, the distress call has stopped transmitting.”
Riker considered the situation. It appeared that Imperium’s
government had been overthrown, or was about to be. It would be
the Hood’s responsibility to check it out, since Imperium was a
Federation world.
“Orders, sir?” Grayson asked.
“Lieutenant Grayson, lay in a course for Imperium, maximum
warp. Lieutenant Pierce, let Starfleet Command know what has
happened.”
“Aye, sir,” Grayson and Pierce said in unison, and set about
their tasks.

One hour later, Lieutenant Commander Riker was reading up on
Imperium. Imperium had joined the Federation in 2356, and had
enjoyed rapid improvement in way of life and living conditions
since then. Imperium was dilithium-rich, and the world prospered
by selling it to private merchants. Starfleet was also allowed to
obtain dilithium from Imperium, at a discount.
Imperium had an average geography, similar to that of Earth.
The atmosphere was composed mostly of carbon dioxide, nitrogen,
and oxygen; however, unlike Earth, Imperium’s atmosphere had
oxygen being the dominant gas instead of nitrogen. Carbon dioxide
was still the least common of the three, however.
“We have arrived in the Imperium system,” Grayson reported.
“Slow to impulse,” Riker said, setting the PADD aside.
“Take us to Imperium.”
Five minutes later, the Hood slipped into Imperium’s orbit.
“Report, Mr. Frorkson.”
The Operations officer, Ensign Frorkson, who was a Klamite,
said, “The geography and average atmosphere composition is no
different. However, over the cities, there are high
concentrations of methane, carbon dioxide, and carbon monoxide. I
am detecting an average of ten thousand people within each city.
There are a total of one million people on the planet. In some
zones, I am detecting high amounts of nuclear radiation.
Electromagnetic radiation is present in a few other zones.”
“It’s a war zone down there,” Grayson muttered.
“I agree,” Riker said. “Mr. Pierce, still no contact with
the planet?”
Pierce shook his head. “Afraid not, sir.”
Riker stared at the main viewer. From orbit, the green
planet didn’t look like any problems were going on. “I will lead
an away team to the capital city. Mr. Frorkson, will we need
enviromental suits?”
Frorkson looked at the Ops console. “I’d advise it, sir.”
“Okay.” Riker got out of the command chair. “Pierce,
Skralle, Frorkson, you’re with me.” He slapped his commbadge.
“Riker to Doctor Punaski, meet the away team in Transporter Room
One. Be prepared to treat wounded.”
“Aye, sir. Punaski out.”
“Mr. Pierce, have a security detail meet us down there.
Lieuetenant Grayson, you have the bridge.”

Riker, Skralle, Pierce, Frorkson, and a security detail
composed of Ensigns Lynch, Johnson, and McCall materialized on the
surface of Imperium. Riker surveyed his surroundings. The sky
was an unhealthy dark yellow, and the buildings all around the
beam-down point were all severely damaged. The only building that
still looked habitable was one kilometer away. It was twenty
storeys tall, and was colored a dark black. It had something on
top which had been blown apart. Riker couldn’t tell what it used
to be.
Frorkson had his tricorder out and began scanning. “The
twenty storey building one point one five kilometers away is the
capital building, Commander. I suggest we go there.”
“Good idea.” Riker took the lead. “Follow me.”
The team began heading for the building. As they were
walking, Frorkson walked up to Riker.
“Yes, Ensign?” Riker asked.
“The capital building isn’t supposed to be black,” Frorkson
said, looking at his tricorder. “I’ve seen picutres of it. It’s
normally green. Also, the sky is normally green.”
“Must’ve been some fight,” Riker said. “What was that
structure on top of the capital building?”
Frorkson gazed at the wreckage on top of the tall skyscraper
for a moment. “That was a place of worship. Every night after
their duties had been performed, politicians would go up and spend
hours in prayer to their gods, which they call the Shanate.”
“You seem to be quite versed on Imperium, Ensign.”
“It’s somewhat of a hobby of mine, sir. When I was a boy,
the Impol ambassador to Klamitia took a special interest in me.
He taught me everything about Impol society.”
“I take it the people of Imperium call themselves the
‘Impol’?”
“The plural form is Impols. The singular form is Impol.
For example, ‘The group of Impols showered their fellow Impol with
praise’.”
“I see,” Riker said. The team was at the capital building
now. He said, “Computer, activate comm system.”
“Working,” the computer of Riker’s EVA suit said. “Comm
system active.”
Riker cleared his throat, and said loudly, “This is
Lieutenant Commander William T. Riker of the Federation Starship
Hood to anyone inside the capital building. Please respond.”
Riker waited for a response. He got one. A squad of ten
Impols came out of the capital building aiming phaser rifles at
the Starfleet officers. They weren’t wearing EVA suits.
“I am the new leader of Imperium,” the oldest man said. He
motioned towards the ground. “Give us your weapons.”
Riker sighed. “All right.” He threw his phaser to the
ground, next to the leader. The rest of the team followed his
example.
“Very good.” The leader motioned towards the entrance of
the capital building. “This way.”
The Starfleet away team followed the Impols into the
building. The room they entered wasn’t much better than the
outside. Scorch marks covered the walls, sculptures and furniture
were smashed, and there were numerous holes and cracks in the
ceiling and floor. They were the only people in the room.
“The new government of this world is the Imperium Shanate.
In any further dealings, the Federation will talk to us.”
“Why did you overthrow the legitimate government?” Riker
asked.
The leader snorted. “Legitimate? That government was no
more legitimate than a Klingon Starfleet officer. It is absurd to
even suggest such a thing. We are the true government of
Imperium. We were chosen by the Shanate themselves.”
Frorkson snorted.
“You may be skeptical at first,” the leader said. “I know
how most Federation types are, especially humans. You think that
religion is all smoke and mirrors. You’re wrong. The Shanate do
exist. They rule this world through us.” He paused. “The
Imperium Shanate would like to continue our relationship with the
Federation.”
“Not a chance,” Riker said. “You’re not an elected
government-”
Just then, a phaser blast hit one of the other Impols in the
back. The Impol fell to the floor, stunned.
Riker registered shock at who had fired the phaser.
Lieutenant Grayson and five security officers were standing in the
back of the room with phaser rifles pointed at the group of
Impols.
“Protect the king! Protect the king!” all of the Impols
besides the leader shouted. They formed a defensive circle around
the leader of the Imperium Shanate, and began firing their phaser
rifles.
Lieutenant Commander Skralle and Ensign Frorkson were killed
by the phaser blasts. The blasts hit their oxygen tanks, and the
tanks exploded, blowing the unfortunate victims in half. Both
halves of their bodies caught fire and fell to the stone floor.
Damn! Riker thought. At least they had died quickly. Riker
took cover behind a large piece of stone furniture. The rest of
Riker’s team took cover too.
Riker heard the phasers blasting away. Cries of agony
filled the room. Riker knew that Grayson and her team would be
using stun setting, so the suffering people must have been members
of Grayson’s team.
The piece of furniture Riker was behind exploded. Stones
fell all over Riker, and the force of the impacts knocked him
unconscious.

Riker awoke later in sickbay. His EVA suit was off, which
was a relief. Grayson was bent over him, looking into his face.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked, concerned.
“Better,” Riker said, sitting up. He felt a sharp pain in
his back, and laid back down. “Lieutenant Grayson, how many
casualties were there?”
Grayson stood there, thinking. “Skralle and Frorkson…
Ministara… Jackson… Deeds… Five Starfleet fatalities,
sir.”
Riker frowned. It was bad enough to lose an officer you
barely knew, but Frorkson had been his best friend… They had
met while on shore leave at New Berlin, and had been friends ever
since. He was also more than an acquaintance with Skralle.
“Grayson… you didn’t have to do that.”
“Do what, sir?”
“Don’t play the fool with me. You beamed down there and
risked the lives of both of our teams, and may have ruined
whatever future relations the Federation may have had with the
Imperium Shanate. I didn’t think that they would kill us, but
because of your interference, five fine officers are dead. Five,
Lieutenant.”
Grayson just stood there, unable to speak.
“As of now, our date is called off,” Riker said angrily.
“I’ll have a formal reprimand put on your record, and I’ll try to
have you court martialed. Dismissed!”
Grayson’s eyes teared up quickly. She began to cry, and ran
out of sickbay.
“Nice going, genius,” Doctor Punaski said. The man had a
grim expression on his face.
“Be quiet, Doctor!”
Punaski turned away and busied himself with a computer
console.

THE USS ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-D

Commander Riker of the Enterprise downed the last remnants
of his drink, and set the glass down on the table. “There you
have it, Guinan.”
Guinan had sat there the whole time, listening intently.
“Don’t you think you were a little harsh on her, Riker?”
“I don’t. She deserved it. Five people who shouldn’t have
died on that mission met their doom because of Grayson. Starfleet
should have found her guilty.”
“Commander, she was concerned.” She paused. “You weren’t
the only one traumatized by this incident, you know. The Grayson
you described was quite friendly. Now, from what I’ve been able
to peice together, she has a lot of negative emotions and tries to
relieve the stress by lashing out at other people.”
“In other words, she’s a snob.” Riker grunted. “Because of
that, nobody likes her. Well, that’s what she deserves. She
caused the deaths of five officers, and she needs to pay for it.”
“Riker… Give her a second chance. She must have learned
since then, because she has been made the captain of a
Revolutionary-class starship.”
Riker scowled. “I’ll think about it.” With that, he stood
up and left Ten-Forward.

Worf carefully aimed his rocket launcher. He only had five
rockets left, and he had to make each of them count. His targets
were three Death Knights up ahead in the long, dark corridor.
They were standing still, with their backs turned to him. As soon
as he fired the first rocket, though, they’d turn around and start
running towards him, firing laser bolts. When they got up close,
they’d start slashing at him with their swords. Worf’s health was
at fifty percent, so he couldn’t allow that.
Just as Worf was about to fire, an Ogre came into the hall,
in front of the Death Knights. It noticed Worf, and let out a
loud roar. The Death Knights turned around to see what the Ogre
had noticed. They saw Worf, and began firing laser bolts.
Worf cursed and kneeled. The laser bolts sailed over his
head. The Death Knights began advancing towards Worf, while the
Ogre stayed put and launched grenades at Worf with its grenade
launcher.
Worf was too far away for the grenades to hit him, but most
of the grenades hit the Death Knights. They turned around to face
the Ogre, and charged, laser bolts flying.
The Ogre turned its full attention to the oncoming Death
Knights. It began aiming its grenades at them. The Ogre managed
to blow up one Death Knight before the other two closed in. The
remaining Death Knights began to slice up the Ogre with their
swords. The Ogre fired some more grenades, and blew up one more
Death Knight. However, before it could fire at the other one, the
Ogre fell to the floor, dead from the wounds the Death Knights had
inflicted on it.
Yes! Worf thought. Most of the monsters had been
eliminated, and the remaining Death Kniight was severely weakened,
all without him firing a shot. Worf decided not to waste a
rocket, and got out his double-barreled shotgun. He aimed it at
the Death Knight, and fired. The Death Knight slumped onto the
floor.
Worf took out the rocket launcher again, and crept slowly
towards the remains of the monsters. He bent over and took the
grenades out of the Ogre’s backpack, and loaded them into his
rocket launcher (both the grenade launcher and the rocket launcher
used the same ammunition.) Worf now had seven rockets. He stood
back up, and walked towards the hall’s exit. Quake appeared to be
somewhat easier than Doom was…

The next day, the Enterprise sped towards Starbase 58 at
full impulse.
“ETA is one minute, Captain,” Data reported.
“Hail Commander Amundson, Mr. Worf,” Picard ordered,
standing up and walking to the spot in between the Ops console and
conn.
The cheery face of Commander Amundson appeared on the main
viewer. Her red hair shined exquisitely. Her bright brown eyes
looked as happy as her face.
“I assume that the Lexington is ready to go, Commander?”
Picard asked, getting to the point.
“Captain Grayson made a point of making sure it was, sir,”
Amundson said. “She wants to get the mission over with as soon as
possible.”
“Then you may send the Lexington out into space, Commander.”
“Aye, sir.” Amundson’s image winked off the main viewer, to
be replaced by the starbase. The bay doors were already opening.
“The process will take thirty-two seconds, sir,” Data
stated.
“Very well.” Picard remained where he was standing. He
watched the Revolutionary-class USS Lexington NCC-3432 fly out of
Starbase 58. He waited for the bay doors to close before taking
action.
“The Lexington is hailing us,” Worf said.
“She doesn’t waste any time, does she?” Riker commented.
“Quiet, Number One.” Picard cleared his throat, and waited
for a minute. Finally, he said, “On screen, Lieutenant.”
Captain Diana Grayson appeared on the main viewer. She had
a very angry expression on her face. “Picard! What the hell do
you think-”
“Language,” Picard said. “Has your mother ever washed your
mouth out with soap and water?”
Grayson fumed. “Unlike you, Frenchie, I don’t live in the
past-”
“Prejudice is unbecoming of a Starfleet officer. That is
the first time another officer has called me a ‘Frenchie.’ I
suppose you feel honored.”
“Get to the business, Captain Jean-Luc Picard!”
“Boy, is she mad,” Riker muttered to himself.
“I heard that, Riker! Fu-”
“Enough!” Picard shouted. “Commander Riker, report to my
ready room!”
Riker stood up and did what he was told, grumbling to
himself.
Picard took a deep breath, then continued. “Captain
Grayson, I assume you have read the situation reports.”
“I am not untrained, Picard!”
“Therefore, I will contact Admiral Skrell to receive our
orders. Do not use such a tone with me again, and don’t smart
off! Picard out!” The main viewer switched its view to the
Lexington as Picard took several deep breaths. “Mr. Worf,” he
said, more calmly, “hail Admiral Skrell.”
“Yes, sir,” Worf said. He touched several locations on the
tactical console, then looked at the captain. “Admiral Skrell
requests that you communicate to him from your ready room.”
“Okay, Mr. Worf. Make it so.” Picard slapped his
commbadge. “Picard to Riker.”
“Riker here, sir.”
“You may come come out of the ready room, and take the
bridge. Picard out.”
When Riker strode out of the ready room, Picard strode in.

When Picard sat down at his desk, Skrell was already visible
on the desktop monitor. He looked as emotionless as any Vulcan
should.
“Captain Picard,” Skrell said, “what is your opinion of
Captain Grayson?”
Picard sighed. “She is a competent officer, although she is
not easy to get along with.”
“You approve of her being on this mission?”
Picard sat there, thinking for a moment. “I suppose so.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you not assign the starships who would
be on the mission?”
“No, I didn’t. Admiral Nechayev overruled me. I protested
her decision, but she was adamant on giving Captain Grayson and
you your assignments.”
Picard frowned. “Grayson would be fine on this type of
mission.”
“I do not think so. Five years ago, aboard the USS Hood,
the then Lieutenant Grayson commited an irresponsible act which
killed my son and four other Starfleet officers. Her act also
injured yet more officers, including your William Riker. Riker
and I attempted to have her court martialed, but she was
exonerated, receiving only a reprimand.” Skrell paused. “Captain
Picard, speaking of reprimands, I understand you’ve received one
recently.”
“Indeed. Admiral Jordan issued me one for violating her
orders and defending the Pineiro System from the Garthusians.”
“That’s right. I have spoken to Jordan, and we both agree
that the reprimand shall be removed from your record. It will be
mentioned that you violated orders, but no reprimand will be
present.”
Picard was stunned. He wondered what had caused that, and
voiced his questions.
“I did not believe that the reprimand had been deserved. A
seasoned and disciplined officer such as you would not violate
orders unless absolutely necessary. I convinced Admiral Jordan of
my reasoning, and she decided to remove the reprimand.”
Picard was still shocked. “Thank you, Admiral,” he rasped.
“Your appreciation is noted. Now, on to your orders.”
Skrell paused. “You are to go to Khitomer, in the Klingon Empire.
Once there, you will rendevous with the Klingon Attack Cruiser
Par’Mach. You will receive further instructions there. Skrell
out.” The symbol of the United Federation of Planets replaced
Skrell’s image, then that too winked out, leaving an empty, black
monitor.
Picard slapped his commbadge. “Picard to bridge. Number
One, lay in a course for Khitomer at maximum warp.”
“Aye, captain,” Riker’s voice replied. “Is there anything
else, sir?”
“Yes. Send Mr. Worf into the ready room. Picard out.”
Picard stood up, and gazed out the starport. The ship was at
warp.
A loud chime filled the ready room.
“Come,” Picard said, sitting back down. Lieutenant Worf
strode into the ready room, and the doors slid shut behind him.
“Yes, Captain?” Worf asked.
Picard was about to ask Worf to sit down, but then he knew
the Klingon would prefer to stand. Picard looked Worf over for a
moment, then spoke. “Worf, your parents were killed by the
Romulans over on Khitomer. Right now, we are on route to
Khitomer.”
“I am aware of that, sir.”
“Do you want to talk about it, Lieutenant?” Picard stood
up, and walked over by Worf’s side. “I imagine it must be
difficult for you.”
“I will do my duty to the best of my ability, sir.”
Picard nodded. “Good. Right now, we need you more than
ever.” He paused, thinking. “If the situation permits it, would
you like to beam down to Khitomer?”
Worf’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Why, Captain?”
“I don’t know. Look over a few things, maybe. It’s up to
you.”
“I will think about it, sir. Is that all?”
Picard stood there for a moment. “Yes, Lieutenant. Return
to your duties.”
Lieutenant Worf turned his back to the captain, and exited
the room.
Picard gazed out the starport for a moment, then he too
stepped onto the bridge.
“Our ETA is two days at present speed, sir,” Data reported.
“The Lexington is in close pursuit.”
“Very well,” Picard said. He looked at Riker, who was
standing between the Ops console and the conn. “Number One, I
understand your attitude towards Captain Grayson. However, please
refrain from talking while we’re in communication with her if
possible.” He paused. “Or she might get into another hissy fit.”
Riker smiled. “Aye, sir.”
Picard sat down in the command chair. He activated the log
recorder.

Captain’s log, stardate 44336.5. The Enterprise has
rendevoused with the Lexington at Starbase 58. Our mission will
be to determine why all of our Starfleet Intelligence operatives
on Romulus have failed to report in since stardate 44123.7. As
per Admiral Skrell’s orders, we are now on a course for Khitomer,
which is a Klingon world near the Romulan border. Once there, we
will meet with the Klingon Attack Cruiser Par’Mach. As of yet, we
do not know why we are doing so.

Picard finished recording his log.

CHAPTER THREE

Captain Diana Grayson stepped onto the bridge and took the
command chair. “How long until Khitomer?”
Lieutenant Commander Hermson, a Klamite, reported, “One day,
madam.”
“Thank you, Mr. Frorkson.”
Hermason got a puzzled expression on his face. “Captain? I
am Lieutenant Commander Hermson-”
Grayson frowned. That was the tenth time she had made that
mistake. It was beginning to worry her. “Ah… yes, I know,
Commander. Carry on.”
Hermson returned his attention to Ops, muttering to himself.
The sounds of several electrical discharges sounded
throughout the bridge. Grayson gave a long sigh. “I wonder what
It Itsum is angry at now.”
The turbolift doors at the front right of the bridge opened
up. Itsum stormed out. Blue electricity crackled all over its
command uniform. Its black eyeballs were glowing bright yellow.
Itsum walked over to Grayson.
“Yes?” Grayson asked innocently.
Itsum opened its mouth to speak. Electricity ran along its
teeth. “Ensign Goldman interrupted my Egyptology session!”
“I thought it was Lieutenant Goldman…”
“Not anymore, it isn’t!”
Grayson sighed for the second time in five minutes. “What
did Goldman interrupt you for?”
“A minor report that Ensign Melindan was failing in his
duties in some warp thing-or-another. I didn’t pay too much
attention.”
At that second, the Lexington lurched. Grayson managed to
stay in the command chair, and everyone else managed to stay at
their stations; except Itsum, that is. Itsum fell to the deck.
An electricity bolt discharged from its eyeballs. It climbed into
the first officers seat, to Grayson’s left.
“What the hell was that!?” Grayson shouted. She looked at
the main viewer at the front of the bridge. The Lexington was in
normal space. “What the hell is going on!?”
“It’s the port warp nacelle, madam!” Hermson called. “The
phase electromagnetic stimulators are off-line! Their sudden
failure forced us to go out of warp!”
“Damn!” Grayson cursed. “Who’s responsible for the phase
electromagnetic stimulators on the port warp nacelle!?”
Hermson checked his console. “Ensign Melindan and Chief
Klincaid.”
“Melindan!?” Grayson cried. She turned to Itsum. “You’re
getting a reprimand, Commander! Next time something like this
happens, you’re getting a demotion! Is that understood!?”
Electricity crackled all over Itsum’s black skin and
Starfleet uniform. “I understand, Captain.”
Grayson turned away from her accursed first officer and
punched on the intercom. “Grayson to Lieutenant Commander La
Salle!”
“La Salle here, Captain.”
“Get Melindan out of the port warp nacelle. In fact, get
him out of the Engineering Section, period. Send him up to the
bridge. After that, do what you need to do to get us up and
running again.”
“Understood.”
“Grayson out!” She leaped out of the command chair and
strode to Ops. “Status of the Enterprise?”
“The Enterprise has dropped out of warp. It has stopped
alongside us. Captain Picard is hailing you.”
“Put him on screen,” Grayson said, straightening up. Picard
appeared on the main viewer. “Captain…”
“What happened on the Lexington?” Picard asked. “We’ve
picked up a malfunction-”
“The phase electromagnetic stimulators in our port warp
nacelle are off-line, the fault of some incompetent engineering
ensign.” The turbolift doors at the aft right section of the
bridge opened up. Ensign Melindan strode out. “Ah, there he is
now, Captain. If you will excuse me. Grayson out.” She turned
to face Melindan. “Ensign, come join me.”
Melindan nervously crept towards Grayson. When he finally
reached her, he said, “Yes, sir?”
Grayson flinched. She scowled at the young man. “First of
all, never, ever, call me ‘sir.’ Second, due to your
incompetence, you will be stripped of your Starfleet commission.
You are no longer even an ensign. You’re now a noncom. You will
take multiple and extensive engineering courses at Starfleet
Academy until they’re convinced that you’re back up to speed.
Understood, Ensign?”
Tears were flowing down Melindan’s face. “Yes, Captain,” he
said, voice cracking.
Grayson nodded. “Dismissed!”
Melindan quickly turned around, and ran off the bridge into
the aft turbolift.
“I think I handled that well,” Grayson said, and returned to
the command chair. “Mr. Hermson, hail the Enterprise.”
Captain Picard reappeared on the main viewer. “I trust you
have resolved the situation with the young ensign?”
“Oh yes indeed, Picard. We expect to be underway in…
Commander, when will we be underway?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Hermson said.
“Good. Fifteen minutes, Picard. Let the Love know we’ll be
a little late.”
Picard frowned. “Pardon?”
“I’ve been taking Klingon courses lately,” Grayson said
proudly. “‘Par’Mach’ is Klingonese for ‘love.’” She paused.
“Somehow, I never expected the Klingons to name a ship Par’Mach.
I wonder if the ship is any good…”
“We shall see,” Picard said, sounding unconcerned. “Oh, by
the way, I know Klingonese too. I don’t need lessons, Captain
Grayson. Once you get warp engines back on-line, give us a brief
message telling us so. Enterprise out.” Picard winked off the
viewer, replaced by the Galaxy-class Enterprise.
Hermson faced the captain. “Madam, Engineering reports
seven more minutes until we can engage warp speed.”
“Lovely,” Grayson muttered.
Next to her, Itsum crackled with electricity. The first
officer’s chair caught on fire. Itsum leapt out of the chair,
crackling more than ever before. It stood looking at the chair
uncertainly, unsure of what to do.
Hermson appeared almost immediately at the command section
of the bridge with a fire extinguisher. He sprayed the first
officer’s chair, which was now a blazing hot inferno, with
neolorine gas. The fire dissipated instantly, leaving the chair
charred black. The Klamite then went back to the Ops station, and
set down the extinguisher next to his seat.
Grayson looked at Hermson quizzically.
“You never know when you might need it,” Hermson said,
looking at the disgruntled first officer.
Grayson flashed a brief smile at her Chief Operations
Officer. “Good thinking.” She turned her attention to her fuming
first officer, and gave it an angry glare. “Commander, you are
being temporarily relieved of duty, until we can figure out what
to do about your problem. Is that understood?”
Itsum snorted. “Yes, Captain.”
“Dismissed.”

On board the Enterprise, Commander Riker looked at Captain
Picard. “I knew she was incompetent, sir.”
“It was not her fault, Commander,” Picard said. “She
mentioned an engineering ensign who was not carrying out his
duties.”
“Again, her fault. She should see to those things-”
“That’s the responsibility of the first officer, not the
captain, and you know that,” Picard snapped.
“She picked a bad first officer. What’s its name?
‘Itiminus?’”
“It Itsum, Number One.”
“Ah, yes. The Frokorzolo-whatchamawhat. Known for their
temper. When they get mad, they conduct a lot of electicity, and
aren’t known for their self-control. Grayson’s choice reflects
badly-”
“The choice wasn’t hers, Will. Starfleet forced him on
her.”
“Whatever. Still-”
“You’re just trying to find excuses, Will,” Counselor Troi
told Riker. “Let it go.”
“Let it go? We have an unqualified-”
“Captain,” Worf broke in, louder than usual, “the Lexington
has singnaled that their warp drive is back in operation.”
“Thank you, Mr. Worf,” Picard said thankfully. “Mr.
Crusher, lay in a course for Camp Khitomer, maximum warp.”
“Aye, sir.” Crusher touched the engage button on the conn.
Evidently he’d already had the coordinated layed in. The
Enterprise blazed into warp.
“The Lexington is right behind us, sir,” Worf reported.
“I’m surprised,” Riker said.
Picard scowled at his first officer. “Mr. Riker, I am
relieving you of duty. Your orders are to immediately have a
counseling session with the counselor. Dismissed.”
Riker opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of
it. “All right, sir.” Riker and Troi exited the bridge via the
left turbolift.
Picard let out a deep breath. “I hope those two get this
problem straightened out.”
Data faced Picard. “Commander Riker was best friends with
someone who died because of Captain Grayson’s carelessness. I do
not think that he will give up his… grudge… easily, sir.”
“Your opinion is noted, Mr. Data,” Picard said. “What’s our
ETA?”
Data checked the Ops console. “Twelve hours, sir.”
Picard checked the chronometer on the right armrest of the
command chair. It was thirteen hundred hours. By the time the
Enterprise reached Khitomer, it would be after twenty-three
hundred hours. The alpha shift would have to be on duty then. He
activated the intercom. “Picard to all personnel. I am calling
off the alpha shift early. Take the time to rest. Alpha shift
will return to duty at twenty-two hundred. Picard out.” He got
out of the command chair as the crew members began rushing around.
The beta shift crew relieved the alpha shift crew. Lieutenant
Worf stood at the center of the bridge.
“You too, Lieutenant,” Picard said.
“Sir, it is my watch.”
Picard scanned the bridge, looking for command-capable
officers. He found one at Ops. “Lieutenant Dunnes, you have the
bridge.”
“Yes, Captain,” Dunnes said, bemused. He left Ops and
walked up to the command chair. “Any special orders, sir?”
“No, Lieutenant,” Picard said. He led Worf to the aft
turbolift. “Ten-Forward,” he told the computer.
“Holodeck Two,” Worf ordered.

Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge bolted from his bed.
The nightmare he’d just experienced has scared him terribly. He’d
been dreaming about Garthusians ever since the Enterprise got back
from the Star Wars universe. Neither he nor Counselor Troi could
explain it.
Geordi laid back down on his bed. He tried to remember the
exact details of his dream.

Geordi looked up at the saucer-shaped vessel. Its
appearance had surprised him. There weren’t supposed to be life-
forms on this planet, and now flying craft were here! Something
was very wrong.
Then, suddenly, a large beam emitted from the bottom of the
vessel and locked onto the away team. Geordi felt all of his
senses and bodily functions pause, then slipped into
unconciousness…

…And awoke in… blackness. No, not blackness. Geordi
felt his VISOR on his face, but it must’ve been suffering a
malfunction.
Geordi tried to sit up, but couldn’t. There were
restraining belts on his arms and torso that inhibited movement.
[The human is awake,] a deep voice inside his mind said…
Wait, it wasn’t his mind speaking, but someone was putting
messages into his mind.
“Who are you!?” Geordi demanded. “Release me!”
[No. We need you.] A pause. [The device on your head
enables you to see in many spectrums. Without this device, you
would not be able to see at all.]
“So what!?”
[Interesting.]
“All you have to say is ‘interesting?’ Why do you need me,
anyway?”
[You will find out soon enough.]
Geordi slipped back into unconsciousness again…

…And he was on the bridge of the Enterprise.
“The Garthusians have severely damaged the engineering
section!” Worf cried, with a hint of fear.
On the main viewer, ten Garthusian spheres were firing
punishing shots at the Enterprise and a fleet of Federation and
Klingon ships that Geordi couldn’t immediately identify.
The engineering station behind Geordi gave an urgent
wailing. He turned to face it. Power throughout the ship was
fluctuation dangerously, in the few sections that still had power.
“Sir, power fluctuations are getting worse!”
Commander Riker acknowledged with a terse, “Do what you can,
Geordi.”
“Yes, Commander,” Geordi said. He looked at the badly
charred bodies of Captain Picard and Ensign Crusher next to him.
The two had been standing next to Geordi, discussing the damage
situation, when two enviromental stations exploded. Besides
Picard and Crusher, three other science ensigns has been killed as
well.
It’s just the start of a long and terrible war, Geordi
thought bitterly. He returned his attention to the engineering
station.
As the terrible barrage continued, Worf reported, “The last
Cardassian vessels have been decimated.”
Riker slammed the armrests of the command chair. “Mr. La
Forge, how’re the weapons?”
“Gone, sir! There’s nothing I can do!”
“Damn the Garthusians!” Riker exclaimed. He watched the
main viewer intently. The other Federation and Klingon starships
were going fast. The Ariel collided against one Garthusian
sphere, its navigational guidance systems down; the sphereship
continued on, unaffected. Riker regretted that numerous crews in
this battle would die in vain.
“All shields are down!” Geordi called as the rocking got
even worse.
“The lower section of the saucer has numerous hull
breaches,” Data reported. “That section is also almost totally
consumed by fire. There are no life-signs; the death toll for the
Enterprise so far is five hundred ninety-seven.”
The bridge was hit by a Garthusian disruptor blast. The
entire top of the bridge was completely sheared off. The whole
bridge crew floated off into space.

Geordi awoke from his second nightmare with a start. That
never happened! Geordi thought. He reached for his VISOR on the
nearby cabinet, put it on, and got out of bed. He put his uniform
on.
Almost the instant he had his uniform on, his commbadge
beeped. He tapped it. “La Forge here.”
“Geordi, are you all right?” Counselor Troi asked urgently.
“I sensed great fear and pain…”
“I had a nightmare, that’s all.”
“A nightmare is nothing to shrug off. It can mean any
number of things. I’ll come to your quarters right now.”
“Really, Counselor, that’s not necessary…”
“Yes, it is. Troi out.”

Commander Riker went over what the counselor had told him
while he was striding through the corridors of the Enterprise.
“People make mistakes,” she had said to him. “She could have done
something worse.” Riker wanted to believe his Imzadi… but
Grayson killed his best friend, dammit! Skralle hadn’t deserved
to die, but now he was gone, due to Diana Grayson’s
irresponsibility!
No, Riker decided, she couldn’t have done much worse except
kill the man on purpose.
The doors to Ten-Forward slid open before him. He stormed
in, and looked around. He spotted Captain Picard at an empty
table, and went to take a seat.
“Did your session with the counselor go well, Number One?”
Picard asked, sipping his hot Earl Grey Tea.
“Just fine,” Riker answered, in a tone that indicated the
opposite.
Picard frowned. He set his cup down on the table.
“Commander, Grayson’s acts were irresposible, I know that. People
make mistakes, though, and they learn from them. Give Captain
Grayson a chance.”
Riker looked Picard in the eyes. “Captain, Skralle was my
best friend. He died needlessly because of Grayson. She doesn’t
deserve my forgiveness.”
“Commander… Will… I know that your loss must have been
difficult for you. I can sympathize; Jack Crusher was my best
friend, and I lost him. He died because I sent him an an away
mission. I felt guilty at first; it could’ve been me instead of
him leading the team. I felt irresponsible, but then I realized
that I did what I felt was necessary.”
“And you think that Grayson felt beaming down with a
security party was neccessary?”
Picard sat there for a moment, but only for a moment. “Yes,
I do, Will Riker.”
Riker turned that inside out in his mind. What the captain
was saying did make sense.
“Talk to her, Number One.”
Riker looked at Picard, disturbed. “What?”
“Talk to Captain Grayson,” Picard said. “Now. That’s an
order.”
Riker swallowed. What Picard was suggesting was crazy, but
he had to carry out his orders. “Yes, Captain.” Riker stood up
to leave, and left Ten-Forward. He headed for his quarters.

Captain Diana Grayson looked at the desk monitor wearily.
It was late. “KwaPlaw,” she mumbled.
“No, you P’Tak!” the Klingon on her screen said. “You must
learn proper Klingonese! Qapla’!”
“Qapla’,” Grayson said. She shut off the monitor before the
Klingon language program could say a word. Still in uniform, she
walked to her bed and laid down on top of it. “Computer, turn the
lights off.”
The computer has just done what it was told when Grayson’s
commbadge beeped.
“Ah, hell,” Grayson muttered. She slapped her commbadge.
“Grayson here. What do you want?”
“This is Lieutenant Commander Hermson, madame. We are
receiving a hail from the Enterprise. Commander Riker wishes to
speak with you.”
“Tell him to leave me alone. I’m tired.”
A short pause ensued, then, “He is under the direct orders
of Captain Picard.”
Grayson sighed. Damn Picard’s fleet captain rating. “Put
him through on my monitor, Commander.”
“Yes, madame,” Hermson replied. “Bridge out.”
Grayson stumbled over to her desk, sat down, and looked
scornfully at the monitor. “What do you want, Riker? I want to
go to sleep.”
“Sleep can wait,” Riker said. “I know why you led the
security team to Imperium.”
“You do?” That perked Grayson’s interest.
“You felt that it was necessary,” Riker continued. “It was
still an irresposible decision; however, I realize that you’ve
probably learned from your mistakes. You are the captain of a
Revolutionary-class starship, after all.”
“Not a high enough captain,” Grayson replied. “I can’t
believe I lost the Odyssey to Keoghe…”
“Don’t push your luck, Grayson,” Riker said irritably.
“Now, do we have a working truce?”
“I’ll think about it,” Grayson said. “Can you go away
please?”
“Yes. Riker out.”

Captain Jean-Luc Picard glanced around his bridge. His
bridge crew was looking awake and alert. He assumed that they
were all well-rested.
“We are entering the Khitomer system, Captain,” Data
reported.
“Slow to impulse,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Crusher said.
The streaking stars disappeared off the Enterprise’s main
viewer, to be replaced by normal space. A Klingon Attack Cruiser
was approaching.
“The Par’Mach is hailing us, sir,” Worf said.
“On screen,” Picard said, standing up.
A young Klingon materialized on the main viewer. “Picard, I
am Captain Ku’Large of the Par’Mach. We have instructions to
equip your vessel and the Lexington with cloaking devices.”
Picard raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“We do not yet know. Once the devices are installed, you
are to contact Admiral Skrell.”
Picard nodded. “Very well. I’ll inform the Lexington and
my engineering department.”
“I trust that you will, Captain,” Ku’Large said. His image
was replaced by the attack cruiser.
“Interesting man,” Riker commented.
“Indeed.” Picard sat back down in the command chair, and
contacted Engineering.
“La Forge here, Captain.”
“The commander of the Par’Mach has just notified us that
they will give us a cloaking device to be installed on the
Enterprise.”
“Understood.”
“Picard out.” He looked up at Worf. “Hail the Lexington.”
Grayson appeared on the main viewer. “What is it?”
Picard faced Grayson. “The Par’Mach is going to supply us
with cloaking devices to be installed on our ships.”
Grayson frowned. “What for?”
“I don’t know. I will contact Admiral Skrell as soon as the
cloaks are installed. Enterprise out.”
As soon as the channel ws cut, Worf said, “Ku’Large says
that he is ready to beam the cloaking device aboard our vessel.”
“Make it so.”

Geordi La Forge tapped the console angrily. The cloaking
device still wasn’t integrating properly with the Enterprise’s
systems.
“Maybe it’s the plasma flow regulators,” Lieutenant Reginald
Barclay suggested over the comm channel.
“No, those are fine.” Geordi ran a systems check on the
cloaking device. “It’s not the cloaking device itself.”
Barclay came down from the upper level of Main Engineering
and strode into Geordi’s office. The secondary enviromental
displays now displayed information on the cloak.
“I just don’t get it,” Geordi said. “It’s not dronium
particles, because the ship’s sensors are now programmed to alert
us at the first sign of detection.” He looked over the warp core
status display. Something caught his attention. “Ah ha!” he
said. “The plasma coils are not set up to the gamma frequency
that the cloaking device requires.”
“It will take one hour to change frequencies, Commander,”
Barclay said.
Geordi’s expression suddenly turned sour. “Then we’d better
get started, haven’t we, Lieutenant?”
Barclay swallowed. “Y-y-yes s-s-sir,” he replied nervously.
He wondered what he did wrong. His superior seemed to be on edge
a lot lately. He decided not to voice his thoughts, though.
Barclay helped Geordi begin to change the frequency of the plasma
coils.

One hour and ten minutes later, the intercom beeped.
“Picard here.”
“The cloaking device is on-line, Captain,” Geordi said.
“You may use it at your discretion.”
“Excellent, Commander. Picard out.” He paused. “Has the
Lexington installed her cloaking device yet?”
“Affirmative, sir,” Worf said.
“Then, by all means, hail Admiral Skrell.”
Worf touched the appropriate buttons on his tactical
console, then said, “Admiral Skrell requests that you take it in
the ready room, sir.”
“Very well.” Picard walked into the ready room, and sat
down at his desk. The admiral was already on the desktop monitor.
“Admiral, the cloaking devices have been installed.”
“Most satsifactory, Captain Picard,” Skrell said. “Your
orders are to proceed to Kumilak.”
“Kumilak?” Picard frowned. “Sir, Kumilak is deep within
Romulan territory.”
“Precisely. That is why the cloaking devices were
required.”
“May I ask why were are going to Kumilak?”
“No, you may not. Skrell out.”
Picard sighed. He wondered why they were being ordered to
go so deep inside Romulan space. Still, he knew that the Vulcan
admiral would have a very good reason. Picard strode onto the
bridge and took the command chair.
“What are our orders, Captain?” Riker asked.
Picard let out a deep breath. “Ensign Crusher,” he said
slowly, “lay in a course for Kumilak.”
There was a collective gasp around the bridge. Even Data
raised an eyebrow. Only Worf seemed pleased by the idea.
“Sir, even with the cloaking device, the farther we go into
Romulan space, the more the odds will increase that we will be
detected,” Data said.
“We need to determine that nature of the relationship
between the Garthusians and the Romulans,” Worf said. “If we need
to go into deep Romulan territory to do that, then we must.”
“I agree,” Picard said. The rest of the bridge crew
accepted this, and nodded their understanding. “Good. Mr. Worf,
tell Captain Grayson what our orders are.”
“Aye, sir.” A slight pause. “Message acknowledged.”
“Very well. Ensign, engage!”

CHAPTER FOUR

Captain’s log, stardate 44360.1. The Enterprise and the
Lexington are under cloak to Kumilak, a Romulan base deep within
Romulan territory, as per the orders of Admiral Skrell. I have no
explanation for why we are proceeding to Kumilak, but considering
that our mission is to see whether or not the Romulans and the
Garthusians are allies, I presume that Starfleet has reason to
believe that a vital clue might be located at the Romulan base.
Our estimated time of arrival is three days.

Lieutenant Commander Frank La Salle looked at his opponent
with disdain. The man was one hundred points behind him, and the
game was nearly over.
“Question: who was the man who said, ‘Give me liberty, or
give me death!’ You have ten seconds,” the moderator, Lieutenant
Commander Hermson, said.
“Uh… Uh…” Lieutenant Drake, the Lexington’s conn
officer, stuttered. “Dick Van Dike?”
“Wrong. Mr. La Salle?”
“Easy,” Frank said smugly. “Patrick Henry.”
“Correct. Final question: when did the first Romulan War
end?”
“1972!” Drake guessed.
“Incorrect.”
“This game is way too easy,” Frank bragged. “The year was
2160.”
“Right. Commander La Salle has won the game. Final score:
La Salle, one thousand points. Drake, seven hundred forty-seven
points.”
The crew members who had assembled around the game area
cheered, then one by one, they left. Lieutenant Drake’s face was
beet red.
“Ah, don’t worry about it, Lieutenant,” Frank said, walking
up to him. “You could’ve done worse.”
“Not much worse,” Drake said. He stood up. “Have a good
night, Commander.” He exited Eight-Forward.
Hermson patted Frank on the back. “Not bad. I couldn’t
have done much better myself.”
Frank smiled. “You’re right. I would’ve whooped your
butt.”
Hermson sighed. “Your arrogance from our days aboard the
Cairo still reigns strong within you, I see.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Frank said slyly. “It’s a lot worse.”
With that, he left the room.
Ah, to finally be away from Captain Jellico, he thought on
his way to his quarters. Captain Jellico was, in Frank’s opinion,
a fascist dictator. Aboard the Cairo, such a game that was just
held would never have taken place. Jellico stifled the enjoyment
and recreation of his crew. He insisted that such things were
unnecessary and destructive.
God knows how many times I requested a transfer. Frank
entered his quarters, and went to bed, with his uniform still on;
it was an old habit from his days serving under Jellico. After
three years, he finally got sick and tired of Jellico. For a
year, he had requested transfer to another starship. Jellico had
refused his requests. After that, Frank went over Jellico’s head
and requested a transfer from Admiral Jordan. That was how he
came to be chief engineer of the Lexington.
Frank hoped that the new captain would be better than
Jellico. So far, Grayson appeared to be a brunette hot-head. At
least she wasn’t a dictator, though. She just had a very short
temper.
Frank’s commbadge beeped. “Itsum to Commander La Salle.”
Now what? He slapped his commbadge. “La Salle here, sir.”
“Who have you gotten to replace Ensign Melindan?”
“Chief Hamilton, sir.”
“Hamilton? Couldn’t you have gotten an officer?”
“The chief was the one most qualified for the job out of the
available personnel. I don’t go by ranks; I go by who’s best for
the job.”
“He’ll be fine for now. However, at the earliest
opportunity, find a qualified officer for the job. Is that
understood?”
“Understood and denied.”
“Are you violating a direct order, Lieutenant Commander?”
“If I have to, yes. I refuse to replace Hamilton. He’s got
twenty years of experience behind him.”
There was a long pause on the other end. Then, “The captain
will hear of this. Commander It Itsum out.”
Frank smiled. That jerk is going to get fried.

Captain Grayson stared at her first officer coldly. “Do you
have a problem with noncoms, Commander?”
“Starfleet regulations specifically state that an officer
must man that position-”
“Forget the regulations. Nobody pays attention to that
regulation anymore, anyway.” Grayson sat down at her ready room
desk. “Commander, as of now, I am demoting you to lieutenant
commander.”
Electricty crackled all along Itsum’s body and uniform.
Huge yellow bolts came out of his eyes and nose. “You can’t do
this to me, Captain!”
“It’s my duty, Lieutenant Commander,” Grayson said. She
activated the desktop monitor, and made the appropriate changes in
Itsum’s Starfleet file. “It’s done.”
Itsum roared. It lunged for the captain.
Grayson unholstered her phaser, set it to heavy stun, and
fired. Itsum fell to the floor, then instantly got back up. It
continued its attack.
Grayson set her phaser to setting five, and fired. No
effect. She backed up to the far wall, and slapped her commbadge.
“Grayson to Transporter Room One, beam Itsum to the brig!”
“I can’t get a lock, Captain!” Chief Delaney said. “Too
much electrical interference! I can’t beam either of you out!”
Itsum was only a few feet from the captain now. Grayson saw
no choice but to kill it. She set her phaser to sixteen, and
fired. Her former first officer instantly vaporized. The whole
ordeal took place in less than half a minute.
The Lexington’s chief of security, Lieutenant Jake Blorman,
and two security officers bolted into the ready room, phasers
drawn.
“It’s all right,” Grayson said, setting her phaser back to
setting one and holstering it. “Itsum has been vaporized.”
The security officers holstered their phasers as well. Jake
dismissed the other security officers, and approached the captain.
“Captain, did he harm you in any way?”
“No, Lieutenant,” Grayson said. “Oh, I almost forgot.
Grayson out.” She walked onto the bridge, with Jake following her
and taking tactical. Grayson walked up to the Ops station. “Mr.
Hermson, I hereby promote you to the rank of commander. You have
all of the responsibilities and privileges commanders have.
You’re also my new first officer.”
“Aye, Captain,” Commander Hermson replied. “Thank you.”
“You deserve it,” Grayson said. She took the command chair.
“Commander, get Lieutenant Dallas up to the bridge.”
Hermson touched several buttons on the Ops console. “She’s
on her way.”
A minute later, Lieutenant Patricia Dallas entered the
bridge from the fore turbolift. She walked right up to the
command chair. “Is there anything I can do for you, Captain?”
“Yes. You may assume your new position as Operations
Manager, and accept a promotion to lieutenant commander.”
Dallas’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Thank you,
Captain!” She walked up to the Ops console. Hermson got up and
sat in the first officer’s chair, while Dallas began her new
duties.
“I must report that we have just entered Romulan space,”
Hermson said.
“Acknowledged.” Grayson got out of the command chair, and
assumed a position at the center of the bridge. “Since we are in
hostile territory, I must order all outgoing subspace
communications cut.”
“Yes, Captain,” Dallas said. Her fingers danced across Ops.
“I have disabled outgoing subspace traffic.”
“Good, Commander,” Grayson said. She smiled. “You know, I
think I’ve become better socially lately…”
“I concur,” Hermson said. “Ever since this mission began,
you have been displaying improvement.”
Grayson was still smiling. It was amazing to her. She
hadn’t smiled for this long of a time since before the incident on
Imperium. She wondered why her mood was uplifted.
“It might have something to do with the fact that someone is
trusting you again, and that you have a working truce with
Commander Riker.”
Grayson looked at her first officer sharply, her smile gone.
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Around the Time of Ability, Klamites around my age begin to
exhibit telepathic abilities,” Hermson stated matter-of-factly.
“Frorkson never mentioned that to me.”
“There was no need for him to.”
Grayson decided that Hermson had a point, and turned her
attention away from him.

***

Captain’s log, stardate 44336.5. The Enterprise and the
Lexington are nearing the Romulan base Kumilak. My feelings of
apprehensiveness have been steadily increasing. Due to the fact
that we are uninvited guests in Romulan space, the Enterprise and
the Lexington have maintained communications silence for the past
two days.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard paced the center of the bridge. He
wasn’t this nervous since Feronium.
“We are entering the Kumilak System,” Ensign Wesley Crusher
reported, every bit as nervous as Picard was.
“Slow us to impulse,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir.”
“Lay in a course for Kumilak itself.”
“Course laid in.”
“Engage.” Picard sat down in the command chair. “Misters
Worf and Data, report.”
“This is a standard solar system, sir,” Data said. He
paused for a long time, and his fingers frantically went across
his board. “Captain, the sixth planet, Kimulak, is an artificial
construct.”
“There is one Romulan Warbird, the Kaelax, in orbit of the
structure,” Worf said. His brow furrowed considerably, and he
looked as angry as Picard had ever seen a Klingon look. “Sir, a
Garthusian sphere is also in orbit. They are in communication
with the Kaelax.”
“Let’s hear them!” Picard barked.
Two figured filled the Enterprise main viewer. The one of
the right was Commander Greair, smiling broadly, and the other was
a Garthusian. Picard couldn’t intepret the Garthusian’s
expression.
“They’ll never know what hit them,” Greair said proudly.
“Yes, they will know,” the Garthusian said slowly.
“However, by the time they do know, it will be too late.”
Greair chuckled. “Sounds good to me. Oh, by the way, you
know the weapons and armor you gave us? They worked perfectly
against the Federation’s Endeavor.”
Picard slammed the armrests and leapt out of the command
chair. “DAMN!”
Worf let out a loud roar. “DEATH TO THE ROMULANS!”
Picard stood there for a few moments, breathing deeply,
trying to calm himself down. He sat back down in his command
chair. “Mr. Worf, not yet,” he said, self-control restored. “We
have to see what happens next.” Picard returned his attention to
the main viewer, and what was being said by the aliens.
“We will carry out our part of the alliance,” the Garthusian
said. “Out.”
“Put the Garthusians on screen!” Picard shouted.
The Garthusian sphere appeared on the main viewer. A
bluish-silver wormhole was behind the huge vessel. The
Garthusians were beginning to enter it.
“How do we collapse the tryolic wormhole!?” Picard asked.
“We cannot,” Data reported calmly.
The bridge crew watched helplessly as the sphereship sailed
into the tryolic wormhole. The wormhole collapsed soon
afterwards.
“We have to find some way of warning the people in the Star
Wars universe!” Riker demanded.
“We have no means of doing so,” Data told Riker.
“But we have to do something!”
Picard considered all alternatives. They now knew that the
Garthusians were allies with the Romulans. With the Garthusians’
help, the Romulans probably purged all Starfleet Intelligence
operatives from the Romulan Empire, and Romulan technology must
have been given serious upgrades. Starfleet Command had to be
notified immediately. However, if the Enterprise transmitted a
subspace message while cloaked, the Romulan Warbird would detect
them and destroy them before they could have a chance to decloak.
Picard made his decision.
“Prepare to engage the enemy,” Picard said.

CHAPTER FIVE

Captain Williams aboard the Starship Ariel looked up in
alarm. Nothing unusual had happened while they were stationed at
Feronium, until now. “Repeat that, Commander Black.”
“I am detecting a dronium particle buildup,” Lieutenant
Commander Black said, “all along the outer edge of the solar
system.”
“Red alert,” Williams said. “Notify Starfleet Command.”
“Communications are being blocked.” She cried out in alarm.
“Ten Garthusian sphereships are decloaking!”
“CRAP!” the first officer, Commander McGrady, said.
“Crap is right, Commander,” Williams said. “What are the
ten other Federation starships doing?”
“The George Washington, Ticonderoga, and Concord have
already been destroyed,” Black said. “The Balistic, Kennedy,
Lincoln, and Tomed are out of commision. The Mississippi and the
Illinois are opening fire and going into evasive maneuvers.”
“Let’s do the same! Narosie, evasive manuevers! Black,
fire all weapons! And get those Garthusian slime devils on the
screen!”
The Garthusian spheres materialized on the main viewer.
They were all firing at the Mississippi. Within a minute, the
Mississippi was dead in space. The continued phaser and photon
torpedo fire appeared to have no effect on the sphereships.
“They have erected hull-tight ‘super-shields’ around their
ships,” Black said. “They have a Romulan signature.”
Williams cursed under his breath. The Romulans were allies
with the Garthusians after all!
The ship began to shake hard. The conn exploded, tossing a
terribly burned Narosie out of her seat and on to the deck.
“Lieutenant Viers, take over helm control!” Williams cried.
“Already done!” Viers shouted. “It’ll do little good,
though! Propulsion systems are off-line!”
There was a huge explosion in the aft section of the bridge.
Williams turned around to look. The whole back section was
consumed with flames. Most certainly all personnel in that
section were dead. “Commander McGrady, take over tactical.”
“Aye, sir,” McGrady replied nervously. He began punching
furiously at his console. “No good, sir. Weapons are off-line.”
“The comm system just went down!” Viers shouted. She gazed
in alarm at her console. “Captain, there is a warp core breach in
progress!”
“Eject the core!” Williams yelled.
Just that second, Ops exploded. Viers wasn’t thrown from
her chair, but she was toast.
“I can’t eject the core,” McGrady said, his voice hollow.
Then, his console went black.
“It’s been nice serving with you, Jeff,” Williams told
McGrady.
“The feelings are mutual, sir.”
The Ariel blew up.

***

Captain Picard went through the plan in his head. The
Enterprise would decloak and fire all weapons at the front section
of the Kaelax. It was then assumed that the Lexington would pick
up the hint, decloak, and finish the job; then, both ships could
eliminate the back section of the warbird. To prevent the warbird
from sending out a distress signal, subspace would be flooded with
anti-lepton interference. The plan was reasonably sound.
“I still don’t like it, sir,” Riker said.
“You’re too biased, Number One,” Picard said. He waited a
few moments. “All right… make it so.”
“Decloaking the Enterprise,” Data said. “Initiating anti-
lepton interference.”
“Firing all weapons,” Worf reported.
On the main viewer, red phaser beams and photon torpedoes
assaulted the Kaelax. The Lexington was nowhere to be found.
“Where in the hell are they?” Riker said.
“I don’t know,” Picard said. “Mr. Worf-”
Then, the Lexington decloaked. She destroyed the front
section of the warbird, then fired on the aft section. The Kaelax
was too disabled to return fire, it seemed.
The Enterprise fired several photon torpedoes at the
warbird. It began imploding. Worf fired three phaser blasts for
good measure. Moments after, the warbird was nothing more than
floating debris.
“Sensors are reading traces of carbon neutronium in the
debris,” Data said. “It is of the same type used on the hulls of
Garthusian sphereships.”
“Why weren’t they hard to destroy?” Riker asked.
“My hypothesis is that it was more of a lining than anything
else,” Data replied. “If the carbon neutronium had the density
typical of sphereships, the Romulan Warbird would be unable to
manuever.”
“Captain, we are being hailed by the Lexington,” Worf said.
“On screen,” Picard responded.
Captain Grayson appeared on the main viewer. “Picard, what
are we going to do now?”
“We are going to send an away team to Kumilak composed of
both Enterprise and Lexington crew members.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll set up the away team for the
Lexington.”
“I’ll do the same here. Picard out.” He turned to Riker.
“Number One.”
Riker stood up. “Data and Worf, you’re with me.” He
slapped his commbadge. “Riker to La Forge.”
“La Forge here, go ahead.”
“Geordi, meet me in Transporter Room Three in five minutes.”
“Right. La Forge out.”
Riker headed for the turbolift, followed by Data and Worf.
The turbolift doors slid open and slid shut for them.
“Engage the cloaking device, Miss Viers,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Viers replied.
Picard turned back to the officer manning tactical. “Mr.
MacDonald, report.”
“There are no indications that we were noticed by Romulans
outside this system,” MacDonald reported. Then, he raised his
eyebrows. “Sir, we are intercepting a Romulan message.”
“Pipe it through,” Picard said.
“It is in a text format only…” MacDonald said. He looked
at Captain Picard in horror. “Sir, the Garthusians are invading
the Federation again. Ten Garthusian sphereships have destroyed
the Federation patrols along the Federation-Garthusian border.”
“Oh, my God…” Viers murmered. “My sister was assigned to
the Ariel.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Picard consoled grimly. “Mr.
MacDonald, keep on the look-out for any more Romulan messages.”

Riker, Data, Geordi, Worf, and Ensign Merrek from the
Enterprise beamed down; Captain Grayson, Commander Hermson,
Lieutenant Commander La Salle, and Commander Kunak beamed down
from the Lexington. They materialized inside a small storage bay
inside Kumilak; the bay was ten feet long, ten feet wide, and
seven feet high. For the moment, it was barren. The walls were
painted a drab gray, and a single green door was on the right-hand
side of the room.
“All right, Riker, what are we going to do?” Grayson asked.
“We’re going to try to figure out what the Romulans’ plans
are,” Riker answered. “Then, we’re going to try to recreate
another tryolic wormhole and follow that Garthusian sphere once we
return to our ships.”
“Where do we start?” La Salle asked.
“I recommend we exit this chamber first,” Data said. “After
that, we will have to find a Romulan and have Commander Kunak
attempt a mind-meld to find out the Romulans’ plans.”
“I concur,” the Lexington’s chief science officer, Kunak,
replied. “However, we will have to be cautious. We do not prefer
to trigger Kumilak’s security systems.”
“Agreed,” Riker said. “Data, please locate a Romulan for
us.”
Data unholstered and flipped open his tricorder. “I can
only scan a one hundred meter radius, sir. Otherwise, I could
risk setting off the security systems.”
“Proceed, Mr. Data,” Grayson said.
Riker gave Grayson an angry look. “I’m in charge of this
mission, Grayson. Captain Picard specifically said so.”
Grayson sighed. “Well, we can’t go against a fleet
captain’s orders, can we?”
“That’s right.” Riker looked at Data expectantly.
“I cannot locate any Romulans within the scan radius,” Data
said.
“Let’s get going,” Riker said. “The shorter we’re here, the
better.” Riker exited the room, along with the other Starfleet
personnel.
The corridor they entered was as barren as the storage bay.
The walls were painted a dark green, and light sources on the
ceiling cast off a dim yellow glow. Small consoles with Romulan
text could be found in the center of the walls, spaced every few
feet. Grayson raised her right hand to type in commands.
“That would not be wise, Captain,” Kunak said. “Any
unauthorized usages of the computer could potentially alert the
Romulans.”
“We don’t need to take unnecessary risks,” Riker said.
“Captain Grayson, don’t touch the consoles.”
Grayson scowled, but did as she was advised.
“Still detecting no signs of Romulans,” Data said.
“What you get for beaming into a remote section of the
outpost,” La Salle muttered.
“We must keep moving,” Riker said. “Follow me.”

***

Captain John Rustinridge eyed the oncoming Garthusian menace
on the main viewer. The ten Garthusian spheres had so far
defeated every fleet to engage them.
“The Garthusians have entered weapons range,” the tactical
officer, Lieutenant Steven Fry, said.
“The Gingrich, Baracuda, Smythe, Shiloh, and Kor’Lul are
engaging the enemy,” the first officer, Commander David Winthrop,
reported.
Rustinridge bit his lip as he watched the battle on the main
viewer. The Garthusians effortlessly took out their attackers in
the matter of two minutes.
“The rest of the fleet is awaiting orders, Captain,”
Winthrop said.
Rustinridge went through a possible battle strategy in his
head. “Have the Farand, Mar’Cha, Congo, and Crichton assume
position alpha-zeta. Have the Borlis, Eagleton, Berlin, and the
Vor’Cha take up position beta-delta.”
“Relaying the orders now, sir,” Winthrop replied. “What
will the Klamitia do, sir?”
“Ensign Delaney, take us to position alpha,” Rustinridge
ordered. “Mr. Fry, fire all weapons!”
Rustinridge’s ship, the Klamitia, stormed boldly into
battle, weapons blasting. The other ships gave Klamitia as much
support as they could.
“The Klingon vessels have been destroyed,” Winthrop said.
“The alpha-zeta fleet has sustained heavy damage.”
“Status of the Garthusians!” Rustinridge called out.
“Unaffected,” the Ops officer, Lieutenant Commander Bunter,
said.
Rustinridge cursed. He watched the conflict on the main
viewer. The rest of the fleet was being obliterated left and
right. The Klamitia was shaking all around him. He knew that the
fleet wouldn’t last long. “Are the Garthusians blocking
communications?”
“Yes, sir,” Winthrop said. “I can’t contact anyone outside
this system.”
Rustinridge raised a hand to cover his face after an EPS
conduit ruptured in the ceiling above, throwing sparks onto the
command area of the bridge. “Damage report!”
“Shields are at thirty percent and collapsing rapidly!”
Bunter said. “Major damage to all decks! Our propulsion systems
are gone!” Before he could finish his report, Ops exploded. The
charred body of Bunter was thrown out of his chair and onto the
deck in front of the command section.
“Shields have collapsed, Captain,” Winthrop said.
The ship lurched. Everyone was thrown to the deck as
consoles and power conduits exploded.
Rustinridge struggled to his feet as all power to the bridge
went out, even the artificial gravity. He began floating as he
examined his bridge. It was obvious that he was the only
survivor.
“Bloody hell,” Rustinridge said. He maneuvered his way into
the command chair; he wasn’t going to die floating around. “Come
on, take me out, Garthusians! Show me what you’ve got!”
Rustinridge got his wish. Within seconds, the Klamitia was
no more.

***

Captain Grayson followed closely behind Commander Riker,
cursing Captain Picard in her mind. She was a captain; she should
be leading this mission, not a commander. Still, Picard used his
fleet captain rating to his advantage, and she had to follow
orders. She didn’t like it one bit.
The corridor they were walking through was the same as the
other corridors of this dull place. Dimly lit, with walls painted
a drab green, Kumilak must not have been a plum assignment.
Grayson wondered what the purpose of Kumilak was.
Rught now, the away team was heading towards a small
laboratory which, according to Data, had ten Romulan life-signs.
The Starfleet personnel were nine people strong; with Data and
Worf on their side, they should have a decisive advantage.
“How much farther?” Worf asked with impatience.
“Twenty meters,” Data replied.
“Don’t worry, Worf,” Riker said. “I’m sure by the time all
of this is over, you’ll have had more than enough battle to quench
your thirst.”
“That is appealing,” Worf agreed. “However, what I hate
most right now is the waiting.”
“I admit, that gets on my nerves too,” La Salle said.
Soon, they reached the door to the lab. It was as drab as
everything else; just a normal, black-colored sliding door. There
wasn’t even a keypad you had to touch to get in.
“Let’s be careful,” Riker said. “Everyone, have your
phasers set to stun. We don’t want to take any chances and alert
the security system.” He looked back to the team. “Ready?”
Everyone nodded silently.
“All right.” Riker looked over the phaser in his hand, made
sure everyone else did the same thing, and charged into the
laboratory, the away team behind him.
They found ten Romulan troops with disruptor rifles pointed
at them. The Starfleet officers ducked for cover as the Romulans
fired, but Merrek was shot in the chest, and she slowly and
painfully vaporized.
Worf let out a roar of fury, set his phaser to wide beam,
and fired from behind the duridium chair he was hiding behind.
Half of the Romulan contingent was knocked unconscious.
One of the Romulans took out a small PADD. He punched
several buttons on it, and then returned it to its holster on his
belt. Then, he resumed firing.
“What the hell?” Riker muttered. “What’s he doing? Data?”
“I am uncertain,” Data said, checking his tricorder while
the others kept the Romulans from advancing. He shook his head.
“I cannot find out what he did.” Tricorder still in his hand, he
stunned the standing Romulans with a quick wide beam phaser burst
from the weapon in his other hand.
Everyone except for Data and Kunak breathed a sigh of
relief. The stood up, and strode over to the fallen Romulans.
“Commander Kunak, can you meld with an unconscious person?”
Grayson wanted to know.
“It is hardly ever done, because normally Vulcans don’t like
to invade another individual’s privacy. However, the present
situation requires it.” He holstered his phaser and knelt down
beside one of the Romulans. He put his fingers on each of the
Romulan’s katra points. “My mind to your mind… Your mind to my
mind… Our minds are merged… We are one…”
Grayson paced the laboratory while she waited for Kunak to
get done with the mind meld. The laboratory was about twenty foot
wide by fifteen feet long. The walls were consumed by computer
consoles filled with Romulan script. At various places in the
room, there were tables that had vials of liquid colored
everything from white to black. She ran a tricorder scan on all
of the liquid vials; the vials seemed to be filled with types of
blood, nutrient supplements, neural function blockers, standard
medicines, and water filled with disease organisms, some known,
some not. Grayson wondered just what the hell the Romulans were
doing here. “Commander Hermson, come over here and take a look at
these tricorder readings.”
Hermson complied and fetched the tricorder from his
captain’s hand. He speedily looked over the readouts.
“Interesting.”
“What is all of this stuff for?” Grayson asked.
“Some of it is obviously for genetic engineering purposes,”
Hermson said, giving the tricorder back to Grayson. “The other
liquids I’m not so sure of. My main suspicion is that some of
these liquids are being used in biological weapons.”
Everyone else except Kumilak looked towards Grayson and
Hermson with interest.
“Are you saying that the Romulans are developing biological
weapons here?” Worf asked, the disapproval evident in his voice.
“That appears to be the case,” Hermson said, with the
tiniest hint of concern.
Kunak stood back up. “Sirs, I know what is going on. The
Garthusians are launching a major invasion of the Federation,
while a plot to end all life on Earth is currently being carried
out by a Garthusian/Romulan base, the location of which this
Romulan did not know. I do know, however, that we must go through
the tryolic wormhole to find the base.”
“How are they going to try to end all life on Earth?” Riker
asked.
“The Romulans have engineered a biological weapon that would
poison every form of life on Earth, while Romulans and Garthusians
would be impervious to the poisons.”
“That way, they could occupy Earth immediately afterwards,”
Data said.
“Commander Kunak, where was the biological weapon
engineered?” Grayson asked.
“Here,” the Vulcan said matter-of-factly.
“That would support our hypothesis,” Hermson said. “Some of
the vials of liquid contain agents that could be used in
biological weapons. However, we also found substances that could
have applications in genetic engineering. Can you enlighten us,
Kunak?”
“I do not know of any such information,” Kunak said. “This
Romulan was completely unaware of it.”
“Well, now that we know what the Romulans want to do, we
must get back to our ships,” Riker said, “and go through that
tryolic wormhole.” He slapped his commbadge. “Riker to
Enterprise.”

On the Starship Enterprise, Picard answered Riker’s hail.
“Picard here.”
“Captain, we know what the Romulans and the Garthusians are
doing. Beam us up.”
“All right,” Picard said glumly. “Picard to Transporter
Room Three, beam the away team up when the cloaking device is
disengaged.”
“Aye, sir,” Chief O’Brien said over the intercom.
“Mr. MacDonald, when the away team is aboard, engage the
cloak immediately.”
“Understood.”
Picard stood up, and straightened out his uniform. “Make it
so.”
“Cloaking device off,” MacDonald said.
“Energizing,” O’Brien reported. “Transport successful.”
“Cloaking device online.”
“Good work, gentlemen,” Picard said. “Away team, report to
the bridge immediately. Picard out.”
Picard fidgeted for several moments while he waited.
Finally, Riker, Data, Worf, Geordi, Grayson, Hermson, La Salle and
Kunak entered the bridge from the aft turbolift. The Enterprise
crew took their positions.
“Captain,” Riker said urgently, facing Picard, “the Romulans
are developing biological weapons here. They have a base on the
other side of that tryolic wormhole where they will launch a plan
to use those weapons to annhiliate every Earth life-form.”
Grayson nodded, and added, “We must hurry. Also, the
Garthusians have begun an invasion of the Federation.”
“We are aware of the invasion,” Picard said grimly. “We
have intercepted several Romulan subspace communications giving
battle reports. The Garthusians are going through our defenses
and patrols as if they weren’t even there.” Picard faced Data.
“Commander, can we recreate the tryolic wormhole?”
“I believe so, sir,” Data said. “There are enough residual
tryolic waves.”
“Then, Mr. Worf, decloak, fire the required phaser burst,
then signal the Lexington to follow us into the wormhole.”
“Doing so now, sir,” Worf acknowledged. “Disengaging
cloaking device… Firing phasers…”
Picard faced the main viewer. The buish-silver wormhole
opened almost immediately after the phaser burst.
“The Lexington has been notified,” Worf said. Almost as an
afterthought, the Revolutionary-class Lexington shimmered into
existence right next to the mouth of the wormhole. “They are
ready to enter.”
“Then let’s not hold them up,” Picard barked. “Ensign
Crusher, engage!”

CHAPTER SIX

Admiral Jordan was sitting in the command chair of the
Ambassador-class Starship Normandy, addressing the fleet of thirty
Federation starships and nineteen Klingon cruisers. “If we cannot
stop the Garthusians here, they will remain virtually unchallenged
until they reach the heart of the Federation. The Third and
Fourth Fleets will be all that stand in their way. We must repel
or destroy the Garthusians here at New Britain.” Jordan paused to
let her words sink in. “I know we can do it. We have defeated
greater threats before; we don’t need the Enterprise to make the
Garthusians fall back. Admiral Jordan out.”
“All ships report that they are ready to engage the enemy,”
the ship’s commander, Captain George Melhelm, reported.
“Very good,” Jordan said. “Tell them that they may engage
at will at the first sign of the Garthusians.”
Melhelm inputed the intructions into his console. “Message
acknowledged.”
Jordan smiled, and looked at Melhelm. “Don’t worry,
Captain. You’ll get your ship back in one piece.”
Melhelm nodded slowly. “I hope so.”
I hope so too, Jordan thought. Despite her big words, she
wasn’t all that convinced that the hastily assembled fleet would
be able to beat the ten Garthusian sphereships. Her superior
officers had warned her about such an attitude, but she couldn’t
help it. The Federation and the Klingons barely defeated the
Garthusians at Feronium, and had suffered heavy losses. Since
then, the Garthusians had won at every encounter. It was like the
Borg invasion all over again, only this time, the Federation was
losing more ships and more personnel.
“Ten Garthusian spheres decloaking at the outer edge of the
system,” the tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Moore, said.
“The fleet is engaging.”
“Take us to the site of battle at warp three,” Jordan said.
“Tactical, I want a full sensor analysis.”
As the conn officer complied Moore said, “I am unable to get
accurate reading due to the numerous weapons in use at the moment.
However, I am able to see that the spheres have super-charged
Romulan shields.”
“The Romulans and the Garthusians are allies,” Jordan
realized. She looked at the main viewer to see that they were at
the battle site. “Conn, evasive maneuvers. Tactical, fire at
will.”
As the two officers carried out their orders, Jordan
examined the battle on the main viewer. The Garthusian spheres
were destroying or crippling their numerous attackers quickly.
When the Normandy began firing, the fleet was already considerably
weakened, and just one minute had passed.
The Operations officer reported, “Only ten Federation
starships remain, the Klingons have two ships.”
The deck quaked hard and every bridge crew member fell to
the flooring. Several stations exploded, throwing their
unfortunate occupants to the deck; Winhelm, the conn officer, and
the officers all along the aft wall of stations perished. Jordan
herself had two broken arms. Using her legs, she maneuvered
herself back into the command chair. “Damage report.”
“Shields are gone,” Ops officer said. “We have lost all
propulsion, and our weapons are useless.”
“They were useless when they were fully operational,” Jordan
muttered.
“Captain!” Moore said in dismay. “Twenty spheres are
approaching the system!”
“Just fine and dandy,” Jordan grumbled.

***

Lieutenant Commander Data reported on where the wormhole had
taken the Enterprise and the Lexington. “Captain, we appear to be
in Sector Zero Zero One. I cannot report precisely, but we appear
to be in a point in time sixty-five million years in the past.”
“Around the time the dinosaurs went extinct,” Riker
commented.
“We must have succeeded,” Kunak said.
Everyone faced the Lexington’s science officer with
questioning looks.
“The Federation is still in existence. Obviously, that
means that we were successful. If had failed, the Federation
would hace ceased to exist before we went into the wormhole, and
naturally, we wouldn’t have been there to go through the wormhole
in the first place.”
“You do have a point,” Data said. “However, the emissions
from the tryolic wormhole could have blocked the changes, allowing
us to continue to exist while the Federation did not.”
“Whatever the case may be, we must succeed this time,”
Picard said. “Mr. Data, can you determine the location of the
base?”
Data manipulated the Ops console, then turned back to the
captain. “There appears to be a high amount of activity around
Mars and Venus. There is no activity around Earth.”
Picard considered the situation. “Captain Grayson, your
crew will beam to the Lexington and investigate Venus. The
Enterprise will check out Mars. While doing this, we will travel
under cloak. We will not decloak unless we absolutely must.”
“Understood,” Grayson said. She and her crew piled into a
turbolift and left.
“Captain,” Riker said, “you’re taking a great chance,
letting her go out by herself. If Kunak’s hypothesis is correct,
she may be the reason we fail on this mission.”
“I don’t have any other choice,” Picard said. “Also, not
letting her go may be the reason this mission fails, if Kunak’s
hypothesis is correct. We can’t second-guess ourselves.”
“The Lexington is under cloak and away,” Worf said.
“Then engage our cloaking device,” Picard said, “and, Mr.
Crusher, lay in a course for Mars at full impulse.”

Captain Diana Grayson tapped her fingers impatiently against
the armrests of the command chair while she waited for the
Lexington to get to Venus. She wanted to get this mission over
with as soon as possible.
“Venus is in visual range, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander
Dallas said. “Our ETA is five minutes.”
“Put Venus on screen, Commander,” Grayson ordered.
A blue-green planet materialized on the main viewer. Lush,
green continents could be seen through white cloud cover.
Obviously, something was very wrong. “Commander, this is Venus?”
“Yes, Captain,” Dallas said. “At least, this planet is
where Venus should be. It’s the second planet from the sun.”
“Scientists have been assuming for hundreds of years that
Venus used to be a M-class planet,” Hermson commented. “We may be
witnessing Venus before the greenhouse effect took over.”
Grayson nodded in understanding, and turned her attention
back to the main viewer. Three Garthusian spheres were in orbit
of Venus, with dozens of smaller saucers and pyramids flying
around them and erupting from the planet’s atmosphere. Two
D’Deridex-class Romulan Warbirds shared orbit with the numerous
Garthusian vessels.
“My God…” Jake Blorman gasped.
“Take us to red alert,” Grayson said. “Dallas, I want you
to give me the most complete report you can.”
The red alert sirens wailed and condition lights flashed red
as Dallas scanned Venus and the surrounding ships. Finally, she
made her report. “Every square milimeter of the main continent is
an urban area. I am detecting numerous industrial and residential
zones. Quantum radiation almost consumes the whole biosphere.
The weather is fairly mild, with no storm systems existing or
forming.”
“Is there anything on the rest of the continents?” Hermson
asked.
“I am detecting some fairly small structures, along with
numerous unidentified life-forms.” Dallas frowned. “The life-
signs have some similarity to Garthusian life-signs.”
“That could be what the genetic engineering was for,”
Hermson said. “They could be engineering some sort of special
troops on Venus.”
“We have to stop it!” Grayson proclaimed. “Commander
Dallas, how can we use that quantum radiation to our advantage?”
Dallas’s fingers danced across the Ops board. “Well… I
have located their largest power plant. We have to destroy that,
which will start a chain reaction through the charged particles
that compose the quantum radiation. This reaction will super-heat
the atmosphere. Everything on the surface will be fried. Also,
the air pressure will increase exponentially, and a runaway
greenhouse effect will occur. Without complex terraforming, Venus
will never be habitable again.”
“Until the humans come along and do your complex
terraforming,” Grayson said. Then, a look of realization came to
her face. “This could mean that we caused Venus to become
inhospitable for all those years!”
“A predestination paradox,” Hermson stated. “This could
mean that we were meant to travel to the past.”
“And that the Garthusians were meant to start their invasion
and everything!” Grayson leaped out of the command chair. “This
means more than ever that we should succeed on this mission.
Lieutenant Commander Dallas, how do you suppose that we could
eliminate the power planet you were talking about?”
“We can’t do it from up here,” Dallas said. “The only we
could get rid of that thing is to do it from the inside.” Dallas
looked at the captain, crestfallen. “We will have to beam a team
down to Venus, Captain. That team will have to destroy the power
plant from the inside. From what my console says, the power plant
will implode immediately after the team succeeds in its mission.
We won’t have enough time to get them out.”
The truth of Dallas’s statement hit everyone on the bridge.
Grayson, with a hint of tears in her eyes, announced, “I will lead
the mission.”
Gasps and murmers filled the bridge. Commander Hermson
immediately stood up and walked right up to the captain.
“You will have to command the ship,” Grayson said. “You
cannot come along.”
“I cannot allow you to lead this mission, Captain,” Hermson
said evenly. “You are the most fit to command this vessel. I
must command the away team.”
Grayson stared at Hermson, and for the first time that she
could remember in a long time, she felt touched. “I… commend
you for your offer. However, my mind is made up.” Grayson
managed a smile. “I’m sure you will make a fine captain.” She
stood in the center of the bridge. “This is a volunteer mission.
If you go, you will never come back. I will put a note in the
ship’s log that all the volunteers should have a Medal of Honor
put on your records.”
For a few tense moments, the bridge crew considered their
decisions. They all wanted to please the captain, yet most of
them had loved ones at home that they wanted to return to. Dallas
looked back at Captain Grayson and said, “I’m sorry, Captain.”
Grayson’s face didn’t betray her thoughts or emotions, but
she was privately disappointed in the Operations officer. Out
loud, she said, “That’s all right, Commander.”
Just after Grayson finished her sentence, Blorman said,
“I’ll go. I have nothing to lose.” He went by the captain’s
side.
Grayson gave Blorman a silent nod of approval, and said,
“Anyone else? The two of us can’t do this alone.”
Hermson stared into Grayson’s eyes. “Captain, I urge you to
reconsider.”
“My mind is made up, Commander,” Grayson said, and smiled at
Hermson warmly. “Commander, my mind is made up. As Commander
Riker could tell you, once my mind is made up about something, I
won’t back down.”
Hermson nodded. “Very well, Captain. I will try to find a
way to eliminate the power plant and ensure that the team makes it
back alive, though.”
“You need to concentrate on making sure that we don’t draw
the Garthusians’ attention until it’s too late.” Grayson headed
for the turbolift. “Lieutenant Blorman, you’re with me. We’re
going to go down to the science and engineering departments to see
if we can get any volunteers down there.”

The Enterprise approached Mars. On the main viewer, Mars
was a buzz of activity. Garthusian spheres, saucers, and pyramids
orbited around an Earth-like planet. Several Romulan Warbirds
were present as well.
“I am reading ten spheres, twenty saucers, and forty-seven
pyramids,” Data reported. “There are fifteen Romulan Warbirds in
orbit as well. As for Mars, sensors indicate that it has class-M
conditions. There is one large supercontinent, approximately nine
hundred thousand nine hundred ninety-nine square kilometers in
size. The rest of Mars is covered by an ocean similar to the ones
detected on Vraris.”
“What about the inhabitants, Data?” Riker asked. “Are there
any inhabitants?”
“Affirmative, sir. I am detecting large settlements on the
supercontinent, with large amounts of space seperating them. I am
also detecting several smaller settlements. In the rural areas, I
am detecting a large variety of unknown life-forms.” Data turned
to Captain Picard. “Captain, these life-forms do bear a slight
resemblance to Garthusian life-readings.”
“That must have been what the Romulans and their Garthusian
allies were genetically engineering,” Worf said. “A new breed of
Garthusians, whose purpose is to become troops.”
“I concur with Worf’s analysis,” Data said.
“We have to find some way to stop the production of the
troops,” Riker commented, “or find a weakness that we can
exploit.”
“How about it, Data?” Captain Picard asked.
Data’s head twitched ever so slightly for a few moments. “I
do not believe that we can feasibly neutralize each and every
single troop. It is my opinion that we must find a critical
weakness that we can utilize.”
“We must beam down to Mars to find out such information,”
Worf said. “Such analyses cannot be conducted from orbit.”
“We have to find a way to decloak without the Garthusians
detecting us,” Picard said. “Any suggestions?”
“I have no suggestions at this present time,” Data answered.
Everyone on the bridge sat, or stood, at their stations,
thinking of a possible solution. Ensign Wesley Crusher came up
with one. He whirled around in his chair to face Picard. “Sir,
we may not have to avoid their sensors.”
Data looked in Wesley’s direction. “Please elaborate,
Ensign.”
The young man swallowed nervously, then continued. “The
whole transportation process should take at most six seconds. The
Garthusians wouldn’t be able to respond fast enough to take
action.”
“We can’t know that, Ensign,” Riker said. “We don’t know
enough about Garthusian technology or the Garthusians themselves
to make that sort of assumption.”
“I agree,” Picard said. “For all we know, the Garthusians
can have a system set up that would destroy any decloaking vessel
that doesn’t transmit the proper authorization codes.”
Wesley sat there for a moment, taking that in. Then he
returned his attention to the conn.
“I agree with Wesley,” Worf stated.
Picard and Riker looked at Worf in surprise.
“How else will we beam an away team down?” Worf asked.
Picard and Riker looked at each other with acceptance on
their faces.
“He does have a point, sir,” Riker said.
“Agreed, Number One,” Picard said. “Number One, form an
away team.”
“Aye, sir.” Riker stood up. “Data, Worf, you’re with me.”
He slapped his commbadge. “Geordi, Doctor, meet me in Transporter
Room Three now. Riker out.” He looked at Captain Picard.
“Make it so, Commander,” Picard said.
Riker, Data, and Worf nodded, and exited the bridge via the
aft turbolift.
“Mr. MacDonald,” Picard called to Worf’s deputy chief of
security, “only leave the cloaking device off-line during the
transport process.”
“Understood, sir,” MacDonald said. “Chief O’Brien says that
he’s ready to energize now, sir.”
“Decloak and energize,” Picard ordered.
The air was filled with tension during the critical three
seconds of transport. Picard kept his gaze on the main viewer.
During the process, one Garthusian sphere moved towards the
Enterprise’s position. When the process was over and the
Enterprise was under cloak, the sphere still kept coming.
“Damn,” Picard cursed. “Ensign Crusher, put us on a random
course of evasive maneuvers. See if the sphere follows us.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Picard watched the main viewer intently. The Garthusian
sphere was not in pursuit.
“A Romulan Warbird has decloaked behind us,” MacDonald said.
“The Garthusians were probably going to meet that.”
Picard breathed a sigh of relief. “Ensign Crusher, assume a
geosynchronous orbit over the beam-in point.”

On the surface of Mars, Riker, Data, Beverly, Geordi, and
Worf materialized. Riker instantly withdrew his phaser and
scanned the surrounding area with his eyes.
They were standing in an open field with healthy-looking
green grass. There were no trees at all. On the distant horizon,
he could see a small, undefined structure. It looked just like a
prairie on Earth.
“I am detecting a number of the engineered life-forms,” Data
reported, tricorder in hand. “Ten are within tricorder range;
they are a kilometer away from here and approaching fast.”
“I see them!” Geordi exclaimed.
“Where?” Worf asked. He was slowly spinning around and was
visibly squinting, but he had no success.
“I don’t see them either,” Riker said.
“I’m not getting them on the normal visual spectrum,” Geordi
said. He waved towards the right. “They’re coming from that way.
I’m seeing them on the infrared wavelength.”
“They are half a kilometer away and closing,” Data
announced.
Riker whistled in disbelief. “In only one minute? They
sure are fast.”
Geordi aimed his phaser at the oncoming life-forms.
“Permission to shoot them down?”
“Go ahead, Geordi,” Riker permitted.
Geordi nodded, and fiddled with the controls on the phaser a
little bit. Finding the settings to his satisfaction, Geordi
fired. He sighed. “I have this phaser set on setting eight, wide
beam. They’re still coming.”
“They are here,” Data said.
Suddenly, ten monsters phased into existence. They stood
ten feet tall, had four legs and four arms, large insect-like
heads with fang-filled jaws, and had gray armor covering their
entire body. All of their limbs had frightening blades at the
ends. The things stood there for a moment, looking over the
Starfleet away team.
“Set your phasers to maximum!” Riker yelled.
Everyone hurriedly carried out Riker’s orders. They kept
their phasers trained on the beasts, just in case the creatures
might prove friendly and killing them wouldn’t be advisable.
[A Starfleet team,] the members of the away team heard in
their minds.
[Yes,] another voice answered. [According to the Grand
Garthusians, every member of their kind must be eliminated. The
Lower Romulans say that any Klingon encountered must be delivered
to them.]
[We shall proceed,] the first voice said. [Jujulamalok!}
The monstrous troops began their attack. Two troops
attacked each away team member.
Commander Riker fired his phaser at his attackers almost the
second they started charging. The two of them spun around for a
few seconds, but kept on coming.
"What the hell are these things!?" Geordi cried. He began
running away.
"I do not believe that will be successful," Data said. He
fired at his attackers with a continuous wide beam. They were
standing in one spot, twitching and twirling.
"Let's do it!" Riker called. He ducked under his attackers'
swipes, and fired his phaser, keeping his thumb firmly planted on
the trigger. His assailants were put into the same state as
Data's.
Geordi and Beverly did the same thing. Only Worf didn't
follow suit. He was twisting and twirling on the ground, trying
to avoid the attacks of the monsters, firing brief phaser blasts
every few seconds. Only when he was almost beheaded did he follow
everyone else's example. He struggled back to his feet.
"Now that we have them neutralized, for the moment," Riker
said, "Data, you scan these things for any weaknesses."
"I will endeavor to do so." He set his tricorder to
continually scan the creatures. "I cannot find any inherent
weakness." He waited for a few minutes, then continued his
report. "I believe that we must kill one and perform an autopsy
on it before we can find a weakness."
"Nice suggestion, Data," Beverly said. "We are barely
keeping these things at bay with phaser beams set to sixteen. Let
me just get my surgical tools real quick and penetrate their armor
with my handy dandy little surgical laser."
"I did not intend to get a sarcastic response," Data said.
"Such a reaction from you is not common, Doctor."
"Yeah, well, what's happening right now isn't common!"
"You showed much more discipline and professionalism during
the Borg invasion."
"Stop it, both of you," Riker ordered. "This is no time for
petty bickering."
[It's just like the Grand Garthusians said,] one of the
aliens commented. [Other inferior species do tend to lose
cohesion quickly.]
Worf growled out a Klingon curse. “At least we have the
courage and determination to face the enemy ourselves! The
Garthusians must engineer soldiers to fight us! They are without
honor!”
[A Garthusian could kill you in a nanosecond,] the alien
replied tersely. [Their mental powers are strong. In a field of
battle such as this one, filth like you wouldn't stand a chance.]
“Tell me more about their mental powers,” Riker demanded.
[They are capable to telepathy, as are we. However, unlike
us, they possess the power to halt an inferior's body functions
with a thought. If they wanted to, they can put things such as
you to a slow and horrible death.]
“Then why don’t they use their mental powers in space
combat!?” Worf barked.
[It is the price they pay for having superior vessels. The
tryolic power core interrupts all telepathy and telekinesis.]
Data looked at Commander Riker. “We have five minutes
before the power cells on our phasers are drained.”
Riker nodded. “Any suggestions on how we kill those things
before our phaser energy runs out?”
“I have no hypothesis to offer,” Data replied.
“Geordi?”
Geordi shook his head. “My brain’s turned to clay.”
Riker let out a snort and slapped his commbadge. “Riker to
Enterprise. Beam us up now.”

Captain Picard looked at MacDonald earnestly. “Report.”
“The away team has been beamed aboard,” MacDonald said.
“However, we’ve attracted the attention of the Garthusians. It
took a little longer to transport, due to interference generated
by the engineered life-forms. That was enough time for them to
pick us up on their sensors.”
“Get us out of orbit, Ensign Crusher,” Picard ordered. He
walked to the center of the bridge from the aft section. “Red
alert.”
The alert sirens started howling as Riker, Data, and Worf
entered the bridge and took their stations.
“Number One, report,” Picard said.
“Those life-forms are sure meant to be troops,” Riker
reported. “They are unphased by single setting sixteen phaser
blasts; you have to use a continuous beam to immobilize them, and
they have seemingly unwavering loyalty to the Garthusians.” He
paused. “Their only weakness seems to be that they give up too
much information.”
“Explain,” Picard said, sitting in the command chair. He
gave his first officer and expectant look.
“Well, they called the Romulans ‘lower’, for starters. They
indicated that the tryolic power core interferes with the
Garthusians’ mental powers.”
“Elaborate.”
“One of their pets said that the Garthusians have mental
powers. They have telepathy, and are capable to injuring or even
killing a person with a single thought. The thing also hinted
that the Garthusians are capable of telekinesis.”
Picard turned those things over in his mind. It seemed more
and more like the Garthusians were going to win, no matter how
hard the Federation fought. One wondered how they lost their
extensive empire in the first place. He could wait to find those
answers later, though. He turned to Data. “Can we construct a
telepathic blocker that’s not as harmful to us as a tryolic device
would be?”
Data thought for a moment. “Of course, sir. However, in a
field of battle, such a device would have to be very large or
attached to each Federation troop. It would not be feasible,
sir.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” Riker said.
“At least, not yet. We need to worry about those engineered life-
forms. That’s what the Garthusians seem intent on using.”
“I agree, Commander,” Picard said. He thought over what he
was about to do next. He had to find out whether any of the new
troops had reached the twenty-fourth century yet. He turned to
face Riker again. “Number One, assemble another away team. You
will go down to the largest settlement we can find. Your mission
will be to find out whether the life-forms are still here or if
any have been sent to our time.”
“Aye, sir,” Riker said.
Picard looked at the main viewer. The activity around Mars
seemed to have died down a bit, but he wanted to make sure. “Mr.
Data, will we be able to beam an away team down, or have they
erected any shields that would prevent transport?”
Data scanned the planet. “No shields that I can detect,
Captain. I am detecting active weapons systems on all of the
vessels and the planet, but no shields have been raised. My
hypothesis is that shields would halt the saucers and pyramids
from leaving and entering Mars’s atmosphere.”
Picard nodded. “Ensign, put us back in Mars’s orbit. Data,
find a suitable spot to beam down. Commander, form an away team.”

***

Captain Grayson, Lieutenant Commander La Salle, Lieutenant
Commander Kunak, and Lieutenant Blorman materialized in the
Venutian city. Commander Hermson had surmised that the
Garthusians would not be able to react in the three seconds
required for transport, and he had been correct. Now, they were
down on Venus, disguised to look like Romulans. Captain Grayson
figured that if they looked like Starfleet officers, they’d be
dead in a second. As a result, the Lexington’s chief medical
officer had the away team members surgically altered, and now here
they were.
Grayson examined her surroundings. Just like at Kumilak, it
was deemed best to transport into an unpopulated segment of the
building. It would take them longer to destroy the power plant,
true, but it would lessen their chances of being caught.
This storage bay looked just like the one at Kumilak.
Grayson figured that both the Romulans and the Garthusians had a
bad taste in architecture; storage rooms on Federation starships
weren’t as bad as this. Dismissing the matter, Grayson turned to
the chief engineer. “How long can we stay in here with all of
these tryolic waves?”
Frank La Salle stared at his tricorder readings for a
second, then looked at his captain. “This mission can last for a
day, and then we keel over.”
Grayson nodded. “All right. Now, a quick review of the
plan. Once we reach the main power core assembly, it will require
all of our phasers set on sixteen to destroy the critical element,
which will cause the whole net to feed back on itself. This will
occur instataneously; it will kill us all.” She looked at the
exit door. “Commander La Salle, have you located the power core
assembly?”
“Yeah, it was easy to find,” Frank said. He let the captain
have a look at his tricorder readings. “One weakness of these
tryolic power cores is that they light up sensor displays like a
Christmas tree.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Grayson said. “The power core is a
kilometer away, which is not that far to walk, but it is far
enough to get caught. Don’t do anything conspicuous.” She looked
at Kunak. “Do you have anything to add?”
“No, Captain,” Kunak stated.
“Let’s go then,” Grayson announced. She walked up to the
door, and it slid open automatically. The Starfleet officers
exited the storage bay, and walked out into a corridor exactly the
same as the ones on Kumilak.
“Well, one thing you have to say about the Romulans,”
Blorman said, “is that they couldn’t care less about their troops’
aesthetics.”
“May I remind you, Lieutenant, that the aesthetics of
different species can vary greatly,” Kunak reminded Blorman.
“How true,” Grayson agreed. “Let’s please halt this kind of
discussion. We’re supposed to be Romulans, remember?”
“Aye, Captain,” Blorman replied.
Not acknowledging her security chief, Grayson headed for the
right, with her team in pursuit. I’ll show that arrogant smart
alec Riker, she thought. He thought that I was no good filth,
unworthy of being in Starfleet, much less being a captain of a
starship. When I’m dead, he’ll realize that he’s wrong.
Determined that she was right, she marched forward.

Lieutenant Michael Blorman followed his commanding officer,
keeping his hand on his phaser just in case. He had grown up
Setlik Three, and had been just a boy when the Cardassians
attacked. Fortunately, the crew of the Rutledge rescued him;
unfortunately, his entire family had been killed. It was a
terrible tragedy that had eaten at him ever since. He had joined
Starfleet to make sure that no one ever committed such an evil
ever to anyone ever again. So far, he wasn’t doing a very good
job.
In 2360, the young Michael Blorman entered Starfleet Acdemy,
and four years later, he graduated tenth in his class. He had
served on the Independence and the Union (which had both been
destroyed at Wolf 359 by the Borg), and was recently promoted to
full lieutenant and made chief of security aboard the Lexington.
Almost immediately after that, the Garthusian crisis started. He
had just gotten back from Wolf 359, and now this was going on, and
he was most certainly going to die. Still, he was going to die in
the service of the Federation, and that thought didn’t make it
seem so bad.
A loud, monstrous voice sounded in the corridor the team was
currently transversing. “SUBCOMMANDER JAEL’TEK, YOU ARE ORDERED
TO REPORT TO GENETICS BAY TWENTY.”
“The wonderful voice of a Garthusian,” Frank La Salle
muttered.
Grayson halted the team to stop. “I hear people talking
ahead,” she whispered.
Three Romulans came walking from around the bend in the
corridor. The oldest looking one flashed a smile at Grayson.
“Why don’t you and your friends join us, my fair lady?”
“I think you’ve had too much ale,” Grayson shot back.
The two other younger Romulans started howling with
laughter. The older one silenced them with a stern glare, and
turned back to Grayson. “You’re lucky you’re a commander.”
“Is that a threat?” Grayson asked menacingly. She
unholstered her phaser, which was modeled to look like a Romulan
disruptor, at the old Romulan. “I have a special way of dealing
with threats.” She paused. “You know, even when on the stun
setting, these disruptors can have a lethal effect on drunks…”
“I am Subcommander Maelak, and I am part of the advanced
forces. I hadn’t heard such a thing.”
“Well,” Grayson said, smiling, “I’m part of the technical
branch of the military, and I hear things that you other fools
don’t.” She aimed the phaser at her antagonist. “You have until
I count to ten to step away from me.” She set her phaser to wide
beam. “That applies to you other two. Leave me.”
The three Romulans scowled, but they repented. The older
one gave one final glare at Grayson. “I will report this to Base
Command.” He hurried up to his comrades.
Grayson let out a sigh of relief, and put away her phaser.
“That was close.” She began to walk forward again, and the team
followed her.
Frank took out his tricorder and flipped it open. “We’re
half a kilometer till the power core, Captain.” He holstered the
tricorder.
“Assuming we keep up this rate of speed,” Kunak said, “we
should reach our goal in five minutes.”
“Acknowledged,” Grayson said, somewhat heavily.
This is it, Blorman thought. In five minutes, it’s all
over.
The Starfleet team marched forward steadily. All of them,
except for Kunak, had nervous and somewhat regretful expressions
on their faces, but they knew what they had to do. If their dying
would save the Federation, then so be it.
Suddenly, several alarms sounded, and the booming voice of a
Garthusian said, “INTRUDER ALERT. I REPEAT, INTRUDER ALERT.”
“How can they know we’re here!?” La Salle cried in panic.
“Keep your voice down!” Grayson shouted. She lowered her
tone. “Maybe it’s not us.” She paused. “All of you, have your
phasers drawn. We want to look like we’re on the lookout for
intruders.”
All of them quickly drew their phasers, and kept on striding
for their destination. Along the way, they enountered several
worried Romulans, who hurried past the away team without a second
glance. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the
power control center.
“This is bad,” Blorman said.

The control center was crawling with Romulans and
Garthusians alike. The tryolic power core was a large dark gray
cylindrical structure standing from floor to ceiling in the very
center of the huge chamber. The critical element common to all
tryolic power cores was a narrow blue band in the center of the
power core’s hull. Surrounding the core were large consoles
manned by Garthusian engineers. Both Romulans and Garthusians
occupied stations along the walls.
A young Romulan female who was standing besides the entrance
looked at Blorman curiously. “What’s bad?” she asked.
“Oh… Uh…” Blorman was struggling for words. He looked
straight into the woman’s eyes, and seemed hypnotized. “Uh…”
“What he means to say,” Grayson said, annoyed, “is that the
fact that intruders managed to infilitrate the base is bad.”
“I see.” The woman smiled. “Commander, don’t take the
man’s reaction personally; I get that all the time.” Her
expression turned serious. “I had the same reaction as you. This
base was supposed to be inpenetrable… the Garthusians promised
that no one would be able to infiltrate it.”
Grayson saw a great opportunity to help the Federation’s
chances. She scoffed at what the Romulan just said. “I always
thought that the Garthusians would be trouble.” She sighed. “I
bet that they’re working for the Federation, trying to conquer
us.”
The woman looked like she was scared at the thought.
“But…”
“What proof do I have?” She began to lie through her teeth.
“The Tal Shiar managed to find out that the Federation Starship
Endeavor wasn’t really destroyed.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No,” Grayson replied, shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t.
The Federation made a deal with the Garthusians, as did the
Klingons. They’ve been lying about the Garthusian invasions into
their space. It was all a plot to conquer our empire.”
The woman stood there, speechless.
“One of the steps to stopping what the Garthusians are
doing,” Kunak said in all honesty, “is to destroy this base by
destroying the critical element of the power core.”
“You lie!” the Romulan shouted, aiming her disruptor at
them.
“I assure you,” Grayson said urgently, “that we are not
lying. If we are to stop the Garthusians, we must start here.”
The Romulan considered Grayson’s sayings. Finally, she
aimed her disruptor at the critical element of the tryolic power
core. “All right, I’ll do it. Only to save the empire, though.”
“Only to save the empire,” Grayson echoed back. “Ready…
Aim…”
The Starfleeters set their phasers to maximum setting, and
aimed them at the critical element.
Okay, here goes, Grayson thought. Riker will be set
straight. She took a deep breath. “Fire,” she said quietly.
Their weapons fired, and the high-powered energy beams
struck the power core. Confused Romulans and Garthusians looked
at the saboteurs quickly.
“Get them!” one the Romulans shouted.
But it was too late. The critical element blew up,
resulting in the immediate destruction of the power core, which
resulted in the immediate destruction of the Venusian base.

On board the bridge of the Lexington, Commander Hermson
stared at the main viewer. The serene Earth-like planet on the
main viewer was being burnt up quickly. Lots of Garthusian
vessels trying to escape Venus’s atmosphere were tossed around
until the air pressure squeezed them apart. The ships in orbit of
the planet sat still, helpless to save their base.
“They did it, sir,” Dallas said solemnly.
“Keep an eye on those ships,” Hermson ordered. “Mr. Drake,
take us to Mars. We’re all done here.”
“Aye, sir,” Dallas and Drake muttered.
Hermson rose from the command chair. “After this mission is
over, a memorial service will be held.” He walked over to the
operations station. “Commander Dallas, when we arrive at Mars,
call me to the bridge. You are in command in my absence. I will
be in the ready room.”

Commander Hermson laid the piece of wood on the table. He
embedded a dull lorkfa deep into the wood, and lit the wood on
fire with a standard igniter. He watched the inferno burn the
wood for what seemed hours, until the wood was dark black, and all
that remained of the fire was hot smoke coming from the wood.
The door chime rang, and Hermson quickly reclaimed his
lorkfa and put it back in its holster on his belt. Klamites
generally didn’t like to have other people see them mourn. “Come
in.”
Lieutenant Commander Dallas strode into the ready room.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we are in orbit of Mars.”
“If you didn’t wish to disturb me,” Hermson said, sitting
down, “why didn’t you inform me via commbadge?”
“Well…” Dallas said. “All right, I want to talk.”
“What about?”
“My decision regarding the Venus mission…”
Hermson looked at Dallas. “You’re feeling guilty.”
“Ye… yes, sir. Maybe I could’ve did something…”
“You couldn’t have saved their lives down there any more
than up here,” Hermson said crisply. “I need you to stay focused
on the task at hand.”
“I know,” Dallas said, nodding. “Although… I’m afraid of
losing-”
“The respect of the crew,” Hermson finished. “Commander, I
must admit, you’re not too high on my list right now. I’m not
sure I can, or will, do anything to help you.”
Dallas looked like she was about to cry. “Sir… I have a
son on Earth… He has molotis…”
Hermson nodded. “He’s currently living with his aunt and
uncle.”
“That’s right,” Dallas said, flustered. “I don’t want to
get killed and make him lose the only parent he has left…”
“Starfleet is not the ideal enviroment for that goal.”
“I know. But my son practically forced me to stay in
Starfleet when he contracted molotis and went to live on Earth…”
“I see.” Hermson stood up and walked right up to Dallas.
“I can understand your wish to comply with your son’s wishes, but
if you explain to him that you’d much rather stay with him than
stay in Starfleet, I am certain that he will understand.”
“After this Garthusian crisis is over, I’ll do just that…”
Hermson nodded. “Is there anything more, Commander?”
Dallas shook her head. “No, sir.” She exited the ready
room. Hermson followed shortly thereafter.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Naro said, “the catastrophe on Venus
is continuing, but it is beginning to die down.”
Picard scowled. He hoped that the Lexington was all right.
“What could have caused such an effect? An asteroid impact?”
“That could have caused it if it happened sir, but it didn’t
happen. The sensors registered a big burst of tryolic energy, and
then kablam!”
Picard nodded. “Keep me posted.”
“Sir,” MacDonald said, “the vessels that were in the
vicinity of Venus are heading in this direction. They should be
here in thirty-five minutes.”
“That sure doesn’t help matters,” Picard grumbled. At least
the base on Venus had been destroyed; he was willing to bet that
the Lexington had something to do with it. That raised his
approval rating of Grayson a few notches. There was still the
Mars base to consider, though. “Any contact with the away team?”
“Negative, Captain,” Naro said. “They did materialize at
their coordinates, though, which is somewhat of a relief.”
“We need all the relief that we can get,” Picard declared.
“Mea-”
“Captain!” MacDonald exclaimed. “I am getting a
communication from the Lexington! It is in orbit of Mars!”
“What!?” Picard shouted. “While we’re under cloak? Perhaps
I should have listened to Commander Riker…”
“Commander Hermson reports that they have successfully
destroyed the Venus base,” MacDonald reported. His voice took on
a solemn tone. “He also adds that Captain Grayson died in the
line of duty.”
Picard slowly nodded his acknowledgement. “All right.
Close the channel.”
“Channel closed.”

Riker, Data, Geordi, Worf, and Chief Luckstrum made their
way through the streets of the settlement. They had been
disguised to look like Romulans, and so far the disguise was
working. The Romulan troops on the streets nodded at them as they
passed.
“Us all being commanders does have its perks,” Luckstrum
said as they walked.
“I do not see what is so pleasing,” Worf said in disgust.
“Being here makes me feel like filth.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad, Lieutenant,” Riker said. “You could
be on the Tribble Homeworld.”
Worf looked like he would throw up, but he just said, “No
thank you, Commander.”
Riker smiled, but didn’t reply. He pointed towards a large
building that was close-by. “I think we should go in there.”
The team strode through the entrance and into the building.
Dozens of Romulans crowded the huge lobby that they entered. A
large stone carving of a Romulan figure holding the symbol of the
Federation in one hand, and the Klingon symbol in the other stood
in the center of the lobby. The floor was made of large gray
stone tiles, as were the walls and ceiling. Way on the other side
of the lobby was yet another huge room that Romulans were crowding
into, with a sign that had Romulan text on it at the top of the
entrance.
“The sign says, ‘We will conquer the Federation’,” Data said
calmly.
“This is as good a place as any to find out what they’re up
to,” Geordi said.
“Agreed,” Riker said. “Let’s follow.”
Ten minutes later, they were in their seats inside the large
auditorium. In the very front of the room, standing behind
podiums on top of a large platfrom, stood a Garthusian and an old
Romulan.
“This should be good,” Luckstrum commented.
The Romulan began to speak. “I am Admiral Iluek, and I
welcome you all to this momentous occasion! The defeat of our
most hated enemies, the Federation and the Klingons, is nearly at
hand!”
Loud cheers erupted from the audience.
“I AM JOKORK MIZALANONO, AND I AM PROUD TO HAVE HELPED THE
ROMULANS IN THIS ACHIEVEMENT,” the Garthusian said. “SOON, WE
SHALL SEND FORTH OUR LEGIONS INTO THE HEART OF THE FEDERATION, AND
CONQUER THEM ONCE AND FOR ALL.”
“When we occupy Earth shortly,” Iluek said, “the Federation
would be able to provide no resistance in our time. The weak
worlds of Vulcan and Andor will fall quickly, then the whole
Federation will follow!”
“AS WILL THE KLINGON EMPIRE, THEN THE CARDASSIAN EMPIRE, AND
ANY EMPIRE THAT RESISTS US!”
Cheers erupted again.
“With the help of the Garthusians, I am sure that you are
well aware, we have genetically engineered a special breed of army
that will put even the Borg to shame! As the Borg say,
‘Resistance is futile’! No one will be able to resist us!”
“WHEN WE SEND THE ARMY BACK INTO OUR TIME TOMORROW, VICTORY
WILL SOON BE OURS!”
Loud cheering, even more massive than before, sounded from
the audience. Over the noise, Riker managed to say to his team
mates, “Now we know that we still have a chance!”
“I recommend we make a hasty departure!” Data said.
“Commander La Forge is doing something rather rash!”
Riker looked at Data quizzically, then found out what the
android was talking about. Geordi La Forge was running up to the
speakers, yelling, “MURDERERS! MUTILATORS! YOU DESERVE TO DIE!!”
He had his phaser aimed at his intended victims.
Riker slapped his commbadge immediately. “Riker to
Enterprise! Get us out of here right away!”

Picard hurried down to Transporter Room Three. He came in
just in time to see the away team materialize on the transporter
platform. Geordi ran off the platform, screaming, “MURDERER!”
“Commander, calm down!” Picard ordered. He restrained
Geordi with his hands.
“He almost got killed,” Riker said. “I saw more than a few
Romulans taking aim at him.”
“What happened?” Picard asked, still restraining Geordi.
“He raced towards the commanders of the base, screaming
insults, with phaser drawn. We got out in the nick of time.”
Picard stared at the chief engineer. “Commander, compose
yourself.”
Slowly, but surely, Geordi relaxed. He stopped trying to
run and breathed several deep breaths, but didn’t say anything.
“What is going on?” Picard asked.
“The Garthusians… They’ll kill you, they’ll kill everyone
on board the ship, they’ll destroy the Enterprise…”
Picard frowned, and looked at Data. “Take him to Counselor
Troi’s office, if you’d please…”
“Certainly, sir,” Data said. He walked up to Geordi, and
put his hand on his friend’s back. “Geordi…”
“All right,” Geordi said, resigned. He and Data walked out
of the transporter room.

On their way to the bridge, Riker was giving Picard his
report.
“They haven’t sent their pets yet,” Riker said. “That still
gives us a chance.”
“Indeed,” Picard said. They entered a turbolift. “Bridge,”
Picard ordered, sending the turbolift on its way. He turned to
Riker. “Commander, we need to talk.”
Riker frowned. “About what, sir?”
“Captain Grayson,” Picard answered heavily. “She’s dead.”
Riker soaked that information in. “How, sir?”
“In the line of duty. Herself, the science officer, the
chief engineer, and the securit chief beamed down to destroy the
Venus base. They destroyed the tryolic power core, and because of
all of the quantum radiation in Venus’s atmosphere, a chain
reaction was started, which resulted in the destruction of
everything on the planet.” Picard grinded his teeth. “We just
received the report from the acting captain of the Lexington,
Commander Hermson.”
Riker raised an eyebrow. “Whatever happened to It Itsum?”
“You know, I was wondering that myself,” Picard said as the
turbolift came to a stop. The doors slid open, and the two
officers took their positions.
“They have gone to full alert,” Data reported from the Ops
station. “Their shields have been raised, and they are currently
conducting full sensor sweeps.”
“Maintain communications silence with the Lexington,” Picard
said. “We don’t need the Garthusians detecting us now.” Picard
rubbed his chin. “Are there any ideas on how we can destroy this
base?”
“I have no idea on how we can do that when they have those
shields up,” Wesley Crusher said.
Riker scowled. “Mr. Data, can you substitute for the Boy
Wonder?”
“I am afraid that I cannot substitute for the ‘Boy Wonder’,
Commander,” Data replied.
Riker looked at the captain. “To use an old Earth term,
this sucks, sir.”
“An accurate, if interesting, way to put it, Number One.”

Geordi La Forge sat on the couch in Deanna Troi’s office,
concentrating on his thoughts and feelings. He had the vision in
his mind… the Enterprise was being rapidly destroyed by the
Garthusan spheres. Picard and Wesley were dead, and the situation
was deperate.
“These nightmares started after you were abducted on Vraris
by the Garthusians?” Troi asked.
“That’s right,” Geordi said. “They’ve had me on edge for
weeks now…”
“Barclay and some other engineers told me about that.” The
counselor paused. “Geordi, all I can recommend is taking some
mycortrazine every time before you go to sleep. I’ve been
counseling you on this for a while now, and we’re not making any
progress. At least the mycortrazine will stop the dreaming.”
Geordi nodded. “Yeah, Captain Picard did indicate that the
mycortrazine stuff was useful when he was recovering from the
Borg. I guess that’s what I’ll have to do.”
“Okay, Geordi. I’m not going to let you go on duty for two
days, though. I want to see how you do.”
Geordi gave her a resigned nod. “Whatever you say,
Counselor.” He stood up. “Am I dismissed?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Geordi hurried out of the counselor’s office.

CHAPTER SEVEN

In the twenty-fourth century, Admiral Williams watched the
twenty spheres enter the New Britain system.
“Their weapon and shield systems are operational,” Moore
said.
It’s all over, Jordan thought. The Federation is history…
“The ten original spheres are engaging the new spheres!”
Moore said in shock.
“What!?” Jordan shouted, staring the the main viewer. It
was true. The spheres were firing at each other.
“Sensors detect large amounts of dronium particle
emissions!” Ops officer said. “They are concentrated among the
Garthusian vessels.”
“Well, let’s not give those particles time to get to us,”
Jordan said. “Ops, you take control of conn systems and get us to
the interior of the system!”
“Aye, sir! Laying in a course for the colony of New Britain
at warp three… engaging course!”
Moments later, the Federation-Klingon fleet was in orbit of
New Britain.
“Open a channel to all ships,” Jordan ordered.
“Channel established,” Moore said.
Jordan cleared her throat. “This is Admiral Jordan of the
Normandy. I want all speculations as to what we just witnessed.”
“It is a ploy,” Captain K’Lar of the Klingon Attack Cruiser
Pok’Ma proclaimed.
“We can’t know that,” Commander Farrell of the Federation
ship Berman replied. “We have to take what we’ve got. Admiral, I
recommend that we try to get those twenty Garthusian spheres on
our side.”
Jordan thought it over as the other starship commanders
argued over the comm channel. Ultimately, she said, “I agree with
Commander Farrell. This might be our only chance to defeat the
Garthusians. I will hail them. Normany out.” She rose and stood
in the center of the bridge, making sure she didn’t move her
broken arms. “Mr. Moore, hail one of those twenty spheres.”
A blue version of a Garthusian materialized on the main
viewer. It’s black eyes focused on Admiral Jordan. “Federation
starship, I am Jokork Mizalyoyesyes of the repressed race of the
Garthusian Empire. We had been in rebellion for centuries, and
now that the Grays have been kept busy by the Federation and its
allies, we’ve finally been able to achieve major victories. I
will tell you the specifics at a later time. I just wished to
inform you that we are your allies. Mizalyoyesyes out.” The
Garthusian’s face was replaced by stars.
“The ‘Blues’ appear to be winning the battle, Admiral,”
Moore said. “Only five of the original spheres remain.”
“Keep an eye on them,” Jordan said. “I want to know exactly
what happens when it happens.”

Mizalyoyesyes stood in the center of the command section of
his flagship, the Jukuloid. He watched the viewscreen as his
battlefleet pummeled the dictator Grays. His rebels had taken
over most of the outer regions of the Garthusian Empire, placing a
democratic government in charge. All that remained was to
eliminate Vraris and take over the whole empire, and change the
name to Garthusian Republic.
“The Starfleet and Klingon ships are staying in orbit around
New Britain,” the sensor master, Grarangno, reported. “Only two
of the enemy remain.”
The executive officer, Jumfula, added, “We have seventeen
vessels left.”
“Weapons master,” Mizalyoyesyes said, “eliminate those two
ships as fast as you can.”
“Their hull is already buckling,” the weapons master,
Frolojok, said.
“Good.” Mizalyoyesyes returned his attention to the
viewscreen. One of the Gray spheres imploded, sending shock waves
in the direction of the remaining enemy. The last enemy sphere
was destroyed by several disruptor blasts from the Jukuloid.
“Well done,” Mizalyoyesyes congratulated. “Communications
master, get me the Normandy.”
The form of Admiral Jordan appeared on the screen. “Jokork,
would you mind explaining the situation further?”
Rude, but that is to be expected. Out loud, Mizalyoyesyes
said, “Of course, Admiral. Six thousand years ago, the Garthusian
Empire was the most powerful empire in the whole galaxy. All
outside forces, even the Borg, feared our might. For centuries,
our people had enjoyed democracy… and, even the counquered
peoples had say in the government on their own planet. However,
there was one empire that did not fear our empire: the Fury
Empire. The Garthusian and Fury Empires fought a five hundred
year war, and the Furies eventually prevailed. They ruled their
empire with an iron fist, and the Garthusians were no exception.
We worked for them as slaved… until the Unclean came.”
Jordan looked like she was lost in thought. She looked at
the Jokork with realization. “Oh, yes, I am quite a student of
history. Captain James T. Kirk encountered the Furies a century
ago. He said that the Furies were forced out by a force known as
the ‘Unclean’… and he said that the Furies believed that we were
the Unclean.”
“No, you were not the Unclean. The Unclean were much more
fierce… however, their appearances and names are lost to
history. Anyway, the Unclean forced the Furies into the Delta
Quadrant, and moved onto the Garthusians. We managed to nearly
annhiliate them, and we forced their retreat to parts unknown.
Unfortunately, during the struggle, the Grays came to power.
After we beat the Unclean, the Grays became egotistical dictators.
They turned all except them into second-class citizens. It’s been
that way ever since.”
“You said something about the Grays coming into power.
What’s that about? Were you Blues repressing them?”
“Not at all. The Grays are simply ‘Blues’, as you like to
call us, that changed their genetic make-up all those years ago so
that they could be different from us.” Mizalyoyesyes paused, then
resumed speaking. “The Grays took advantage of the chaos that was
caused by the Furies and the Unclean so they could take over the
empire. They promised they could get rid of the Unclean, and they
did just that, so the people trusted them. It didn’t take us
‘Blues’ long to realize that the Grays were simply overzealous
dictators, but by then, it was too late. The Grays had taken firm
control, and they didn’t give it up. Some us formed a rebellion
that has existed for over four thousand years, and we are only now
beginning to gain victory.”
Jordan shook her head up and down. “I see. Is there any
way we can help you to reestablish a democratic form of government
in the Garthusian Empire?”
Mizalyoyesyes considered it. “I don’t imagine that you
could have much of an impact unless you committed a very large
fleet…”
“I’ll see what I can do. Jordan out.”

Jordan faced Moore. “Tactical, get me the Commander-in-
Chief on the ready room monitor.”
“Aye, Captain.” Moore tapped a button. “The Chief is
awaiting you.”
Jordan nodded and went into the ready room. She sat at the
desk and faced the desktop monitor. “Sir, I have very important
news.”
Fleet Admiral Takei Sulu faced Jordan sternly. “Admiral
Jordan, what is it? The Garthusians have better not have broken
through our defenses…”
Jordan shook her head. “No, sir. It seems that there is a
large rebel movement within the Garthusian Empire, and that they
are gaining ground quickly. To win, they need our help. We will
need to commit a large number of ships, though…”
Sulu’s forehead creased. “How many ships are we talking
about, Admiral?”
“Bigger than anything ever at Wolf 359… Feronium… The
largest fleet we’ve ever assembled… I’d have to say well over a
thousand ships…”
Sulu looked like he’d have a heart attack. “A thousand
ships?” he gasped. “Admiral, not to be blunt, but we simply don’t
have a thousand ships… Not with the Cardassians and the
Borg…”
“That’s where other Federation members and the Klingons come
in. Get the Vulcans, the Andorians, anyone you possibly can in
there, fighting with us… I’m sure the Klingons would send
ships…”
Sulu sighed. “I’ll have to talk to the Federation Council
about this. I can’t promise anything. Sulu out.” His image
winked off the viewer, to be replaced by the Federation seal.
Jordan walked onto the bridge. “Mr. Moore, inform the Blues
that I’ve talked to Starfleet, and they might be able to get the
assistance I offered.”
“Will do, Admiral.”
“Good.” Jordan walked towards the aft turbolift. “Moore,
you have the bridge. I’m going to sickbay to get my arms fixed.”

Commander Kaloar of the Romulan outpost Kumilak looked over
the shoulder of Subcommander Tarail. “The Garthusians didn’t say
anything about sending more ships, did they?”
Tarail shook his head. “No, Commander.”
Kalaor paced the command center of Kumilak. He wondered
what the Garthusians were up to. “Are they responding to our
hails?”
“No.” Tarail looked back ay Kaloar. “They tricked us!”
“Calm down. It could be innocent.” Truthfully, Kaloar was
having doubts about the Garthusians himself, but he wouldn’t say
that out loud just yet. “They could have a perfectly legitimate
reason for this.”
“I hope you’re right.” Tarail turned to his console just as
a loud beeping eminated from it. He touched the console in
several places. “Sir, the lead vessel is hailing us, audio only.”
“About time. On speakers.”
The speakers crackled for a moment. “COMMANDER KALOAR, I
SPEAK FOR THE REPRESSED MASSES OF THE GARTHUSIAN EMPIRE. I AM
ASKING YOU TO JOIN US IN OUR STRUGGLE TO RESTORE DEMOCRACY TO OUR
HOME.”
Kaloar grunted. “The Garthusians told us about you. You’re
the dishonorable rebels. We will take care of you in short
order.” He whispered to Tarail, “Arm the weapons array.”
Tarail nodded, and did what he was told.
“ROMULAN COMMANDER, I GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE. YOU CANNOT
RESIST US.”
Kaloar scoffed. “Please. We can take on five spheres if
necessary. What makes you think one would do the job?”
“BECAUSE WE ARE MANY.”
“They have cut communications, Commander,” Tarail said. He
looked at his commander dubiously. “Commander, they are making an
idle boast. There is only one Garthusian sphere in the range of
our Garthusian-improved scanners.”
Kaloar thought that over. The Garthusian commander had said
“because we are many”… who could the many be?
Tarail looked at his console with surprise. “Sir, I am
detecting a rapid rise in tryolic particles at coordinates nine
mark nine, bearing one hundred mark twenty!”
“A tryolic wormhole,” Kaloar muttered. “We must not let any
more rebel spheres into this section of space. Can we stop the
buildup and collapse the wormhole?”
“Too late! They’re already pouring out!”
“On screen!” Kaloar shouted. He faced the main viewer. The
silverish-blue wormhole was regurgitating more ships than he could
count. They all surrounded Kumilak, weapons charging and shields
activating.
“They have fifty spheres, sir,” Tarail said in fear. “They
have locked all weapons onto us. They will destroy us in one
blast!”
“Get a message off to the Romulan Empire!” Kaloar shouted.
“Warn them of the rebel threat!”
“They are flooding all subspace channels with anti-lepton
interference!”
Suddenly, all fifty sphereships fired all of their weapons
at Kumilak. Disruptors and torpedoes collided against all parts
of the hull of the outpost almost simultaneously. Gases and
energy leapt out of the numerous hull breaches, illuminating the
surrounding space in an impressive array of colors. Moments
later, after continuous pounding from the Blues’ weapons, Kumilak
exploded. Asteroid-sized debris flew from the explosion, as did
numerous smaller pieces of debris and some body parts that had
been spared from vaporization.
After the successful destruction of Kumilak, the Garthusian
spheres began to advance deeper into Romulan territory…

Mizalyoyesyes paced the observation lounge, giving Admiral
Jordan some surprisingly good battle reports.
“The Romulan operation is going quite well,” the rebel
leader said. “Kumilak was destroyed by our forces almost
immediately, even though it was constructed by the Grays.” He
paused and looked at Jordan. “The Romulans have managed to
scrounge up some meager resistance, but they were so surprised.
They had most of their forces inside Federation space waiting to
strike. So far, we have control over fifteen Romulan systems.”
“This is indeed pleasing news,” Jordan said. “However, do
you know anything about the Enterprise and the Lexington?”
“Yes, we do.” The Jokork called up some information on a
PADD he was holding, and handed it to Jordan. “We intercepted a
transmission saying that the Tryolic Wormhole Cee-Gomba-Kloker was
opened several hours ago, but no ships were scheduled to go
through, so the Grays and their Romulan allies began an
investigation.”
“According to this,” Jordan stated, “Tryolic Wormhole Cee-
Gomba-Kloker is near where Kumilak used to be.”
“Right next to it, actually. Considering that the
Enterprise and the Lexington were assigned to go to Kumilak, the
odds are more than likely that they traveled through that
wormhole.” Mizalyoyesyes took the PADD back from Jordan. “I’ve
managed to get intelligence that two very important Garthusian-
Romulan bases lie on the other side. I don’t know what they’re
for, but I do know that they are a critical part of the enemy’s
invasion plans. I’m going to lead a force of spheres into the
wormhole, and try to destroy those bases. Also, I’ll try to make
contact with your starships, if they have managed to survive.”
“All right.” Jordan got up from her seat. “Good luck,
Jokork Mizalyoyesyes.”
“Jujulamalok, Admiral,” Mizalyoyesyes replied. He began to
leave the observation lounge.
“Oh, wait,” Jordan said, suddenly remembering. “While your
in the sectors along the Romulan Neutral Zone, you’ll be
communicating with Admiral Skrell.”
“Acknowledged.”

***

Captain Picard looked at his senior officers gathered around
the observation lounge table. “We have to destroy the base on
Mars.”
“We can’t do that until we get the shield down,” Lieutenant
Jack Alaimo, Geordi’s fill-in, said.
“The only way to attempt to lower the shield would be to
decloak and try something, but if we decloak for more than a few
seconds, it will mean certain death,” Data added.
“That is unacceptable!” Worf bellowed. “We must destroy the
base!”
“I agree with you, but how?” Alaimo replied. “Do we decloak
and wait to be shot down in ten seconds? We’ll sure do a lot of
good dead.”
“We don’t need petty arguing, we need answers,” Picard broke
in. “Commander Riker, what sort of reaction from the Romulans
will we get if we told them that the Garthusians referred to them
as ‘lower’?”
“I don’t think they’d believe us,” Riker answered. “If we
could somehow prove it…”
The intercom blooped. “MacDonald to observation lounge.”
“Picard here,” the captain said wearily. “What’s going on?”
“Sensors have detected that the tryolic wormhole that we
came here through is opening up. A lot of Garthusian spheres are
coming out of that wormhole, sir.”
“Red alert!” Picard called. “All senior officers, report to
the bridge!”
Moments later, the senior officers were at their stations.
Alaimo manned the bridge engineering console.
“I am detecting forty-seven sphereships, Captain,” Data
said.
“They are sending out a general broadcast, sir,” Worf
reported.
“Put it through,” Picard barked.
A blue Garthusian appeared on the main viewer. “I am Jokork
Mizalyoyesyes of the new Garthusian Republic. I am ordering the
Grays and Romulans on Mars to surrender immediately or face
certain death.”
Jokork Mizalonono suddenly materialized on the right side of
the viewer, with Mizalyoyesyes on the left. “I have looked
forward to putting an end to your pathetic movement for a long
time, Mizalyoyesyes. For all of my five hundred years, I’ve
wanted to eliminate the rebellion. Now, I’ll get the chance.”
Mizalonono cut the channel. Seconds later, so did Mizalyoyesyes.
“All of the Garthusian spheres are moving to engage the
newcomers,” Worf reported. “The Romulans are staying behind.”
Picard rubbed his chin, analyzing the recent turn of events.
This was totally unexpected. With the help of the Garthusian
rebels, the Federation might actually have a chance of winning the
war. Picard looked at Ensign Crusher. “Ensign, put us on an
erratic and unpredictable course.”
The teenager looked surprised, but nonetheless did what he
was told.
“Mr. Worf, contact the Lexington. Tell them to go on an
unpredictable course, and that I’d like to speak with the acting
captain.”
Worf touched several locations on the tactical console.
“Commander Hermson acknowledging, Captain.”
The Klamite winked into existence on the main viewer. “This
is most unexpected.”
“I agree, Commander,” Picard said, standing up and
approaching the main viewer. “We may have a new ally.” He looked
at Data. “Battle report.”
“I am detecting four of the Garthusian spheres, Captain, and
forty-five of the rebels.”
Worf growled. “The Romulans are deploying in a standard
search pattern, sir. They seem to be following us.”
“They can’t get a lock unless they can accurately predict
our course, Lieutenant,” Hermson reminded the Klingon.
Riker punched some buttons on his own console. He looked up
to the captain urgently. “The Romulan Warbirds are forming a net
around us, sir, and more are decloaking! We’re going to have to
go to warp if we hope to be able to escape the net…”
“Too late, Commander,” Data said. “Twenty Romulan Warbirds
now surround us, and the gaps in the net are too small for the
Enterprise to pass through.”
“They were prepared for something just like this,” Alaimo
muttered.
“They are locking weapons on us, Captain!” Worf said.
“I will sever the transmission,” Hermson said. His image
disappeared, to be replaced by several warbirds.
“Wesley, move our position,” Picard said. “Enough so that
the Romulan weapons won’t hit us.”
“We don’t have enough room, sir.”
Sweat ran down the back of Picard’s neck. Even if the
Enterprise decloaked, she wouldn’t have a chance against twenty
Romulan Warbirds. Still, the ship would have even less of a
chance while cloaked. “Lieutenant Worf, disengage-”
“The Lexington has decloaked outside of the net and is
firing at the warbirds, Captain!” Worf yelled.
“On screen!”
The Revolutionary-class Lexington was performing a dizzying
array of evasive maneuvers, firing its phasers and photon
torpedoes at the Romulans. The net of warbirds was broken as they
focused on their attacker.
“What the hell is he doing!?” Riker said.
“Saving us, Commander!” Picard shouted. “Worf, disengage
the cloaking device, raise shields, and fire at will!”
“Gladly, sir!”
The Enterprise decloaked and unleashed a blaze of fury as
the Romulans began to conentrate on the Lexington. Two Romulan
Warbirds that had been weakened by the Lexington blew up under the
Enterprise’s barrage.
“Ensign Crusher, evasive maneuvers!” Picard said.
The Enterprise weaved through the flotilla of warbirds. The
ship shook fiercely under enemy fire, but several warbirds were
destroyed by the highly maneuverable Federation starships.
“Our shields are down to seventy-three percent!” Alaimo
reported.
“Status of the enemy fleet?” Picard asked.
“Five Romulan Warbirds destroyed, Captain,” Data replied.
“The warbirds are beginning to break formations and initiate
evasive maneuvers.”
“Engage the cloaking device,” Picard ordered as the
Enterprise rocked under some warbirds’ disruptors.
“Cloaking device engaged, sir,” Worf announced.
Riker let out a deep breath. “Phew!”
“I agree wholeheartedly, Number One,” Picard said. “What
are the Romulans doing now?”
“Since the Lexington cloaked just as we did, they are going
to fight the Garthusian rebels, who have destroyed all the spheres
of the enemy Garthusians,” Data answered. “Garthusian saucers and
pyramids are in the vicinity of us now. They are scanning for ion
trails.”
“Let’s not give them any. Ensign, all stop.”
“All stop confirmed, sir.”
Picard walked up to the main viewer. “Put the battle on
screen.”
The Garthusian spheres and Romulan Warbirds appeared on the
main viewer. The warbirds were twisting and twirling among the
spheres, disruptors blasting, but it was no use. The Garthusians
picked the Romulans off effortlessly, sometimes allowing warbirds
to collide with them. Within five minutes, the Romulan fleet was
decimated.
“My God…” Riker gasped.
“The Garthusian saucers and pyramids are turning to engage
the rebels,” Worf said.
“They must be desperate,” Picard replied with some
satisfaction. He watched the saucers and pyramids get annhiliated
by the spheres. “Over in our time, the Garthusian Empire must be
gone, with a Garthusian Republic taking its place.”
“Captain, the Enterprise and the Lexington are being
requested by Jokork Mizalyoyesyes over a general hail,” Worf
reported.
“Answer it,” Picard said.
Commander Hermson and Jokork Mizalyoyesyes winked into
existence on the main viewer.
“This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise. How are
things going in the twenty-fourth century?”
“Extremely well, Captain,” Mizalyoyesyes proclaimed
neutrally. “The Grays are being pushed back on almost all fronts.
Within a short while, they will be pushed to Vraris, where we, the
Federation and the Klingons will make the final squeeze.”
“Quite pleasing news, Mr. Jokork,” Commander Hermson said.
“Agreed,” Picard said with a slight grin on his face.
“However, we must first destroy the Mars base.”
“I know, Captain Picard. Within short order, my sphere will
launch a dehabitation torpedo into Mars’s atmosphere, which will
eliminate all life on Mars and make it uninhabitable for seventy-
two million years.”
“What will become of the equipment on Mars?” Hermson asked.
“The rapid effects of the atmospheric shifts should take
care of it, and the high air pressure and the high rise in heat
caused by the nitronic gases should effectively squeeze and melt
the materials.”
“Make it so,” Picard told Mizalyoyesyes. “The sooner this
war is ended, the better.”
“I must concur, Captain.” Mizalyoyesyes’s image was taken
away, and Hermson dominated the main viewer.
“I suggest that we maintain an open comm link, but keep our
viewscreens focused on the events on the exterior of our two
ships,” Hermson recommended.
“Agreed. Lieutenant Worf, do it.”
Hermson’s image disappeared, to be replaced by the M-class
Mars. Picard took a good look at it. It was so much like the
terraformed Mars that Picard was used to. He wished that they
could somehow take out the Romulan base without destroying the
beauty of Mars as it was now. Still, if it meant saving the
Federation, that beauty would have to be destroyed alongside the
base.
“Jokork Mizalyoyesyes reports that he is ready to launch the
torpedo,” Worf said with a hint of glee.
He’s a Klingon, Picard thought when he experienced repugnant
feelings towards Worf for wanting to destroy such a pretty planet.
Picard stared at Mars for a while, then said, “Tell him that he
may do so.”
Suddenly, a blue streak entered Mars’s atmosphere. It all
happened so fast that Picard couldn’t believe it. Red gases
started to consume the view of the blue oceans and lush green
landmasses. He could barely make out dust and debris being tossed
about by the huge wind that was picking up. Multiple explosions
lit up all of the continents. Within mere minutes, the once
healthy planet was replaced by a dull red planet that would
inspire so much myth and misconception on Earth, and would
eventually lead to increased interest in space exploration when
the ruins of the Romulan base were discovered underground,
confirming the belief that aliens did exist. The actions of the
Garthusians, Romulans, Enterprise, Lexington, and the rebels would
both help save and found the United Federation of Planets. It was
quite staggering to contemplate.
“We did it!” Alaimo exclaimed. “We saved the Federation!”
“Yes, we did,” Picard agreed, “along with the help of the
Garthusian rebels.”
“Either way, it is quite an achievement,” Commander Hermson
said over the intercom.
“It’s not over yet. Mr. Worf, hail Jokork Mizalyoyesyes.”
The blue Garthusian appeared on the main viewer. “Captain
Picard, we are to return to your twenty-fourth century in order to
commence the assault on Vraris.”
“I quite agree with you,” Picard said. “Ensign Crusher, lay
in a course for the wormhole, best speed.”

***

Admiral Skrell looked over the battle reports closely. The
war with the Garthusians was going remarkably well with the
assistance of the Garthusian rebels, in sharp contrasts with the
heavy losses during the early phase of the war.

From: United Space Ship Kashiko NCC-5132

Starship Commander: Captain Marglese Stone

Report: The engagement with the Garthusians at the Velusion system
was a stunning victory. With the help of six rebel spheres, our
fleet of nine Federation starships and seven Klingon cruisers
eliminated the Garthusian outpost that had been speedily
constructed by the enemy, in the precise spot where Starbase 123
was destroyed by the first Garthusian fleet. Thankfully, this
outpost was experiencing technical difficulties, just like
Starbase 123 used to, so we quickly and efficiently eliminated it.
Casualties were light: two Federation starships, one Klingon
cruiser, and zero rebel spheres. Total troops lost: two thousand.
This might seem staggeringly large, but with our losses at the
hands of the Borg and the Garthusians lately, this is small.

Signed,
Marglese Stone
Marglese Stone

Priority One access only!

Most of the other battle reports were similar. The
Garthusian rebels had been literally a Godsend. Although he did
not consider himself a religious man by any means, Skrell still
was surprised at how things had turned in the favor of the
Federation. Even the Vulcan Skrell was beginning to reconsider
his attitude towards religion and deities. Only a deity could
have turned the tide of the war so much.
The door chime chirped. Skrell looked up from the numerous
PADDs on his desk and looked outside the doors. He saw his
adjuctant, Lieutenant Commander Narciccus Caesar. Caesar was from
the Earth-like world thats evolution was exactly like Earth’s,
except the Roman Empire never fell. “You may enter,” Skrell
called.
The doors slid open and Caser opened, and slid shut. Caesar
handed Skrell a PADD. “The Enterprise and the Lexington have
returned from the other side of the Kumilak wormhole, sir,” he
said. “They are en route to this starbase.”
“Quite satisfactory,” Skrell said, taking the PADD and
adding it to the growing mound of PADDs on his desk. “Is that
all?”
Caesar shook his head. “No, sir.” He leaned close to
Skrell. “I would like to command a ship when the fleet attacks
Vraris.”
Skrell considered it. “You have served admirably as my
adjuctant for four years. You have proven that your command
skills are satisfactory.” Skrell paused. “Yes, you may command
the Excelsior-class starship Backgammon. You will also receive a
field promotion to full commander.”
Caesar smiled. “Thank you, sir! I will report to the
Backgammon right away!” He began walking for the doors.
“Not just yet,” Skrell said. “You must restrain your
enthusiasm, Commander. You fill finish out today’s shift as my
adjuctant. Tomorrow, you will assume command of the Backgammon.”
Caeser nodded. “Yes, sir.”

***

On the Federation Starship Lexington, Commander Hermson
looked away from the starports, and addressed the crew assembled
in Eight-Forward. Tears were on all of their faces. The deaths
of Captain Diana Grayson, Lieutenant Commander Kunak, Lieutenant
Commander Frank La Salle, and Lieutenant Michael Blorman had
affected them all. Hostess Lydia Parker walked up to Hermson.
“Commander,” she whispered, “the lounge is starting to get a
little full.”
“Admit as many as you can, and put this on speakers and
visual,” Hermson told Parker just as lowly.
Parker nodded, and made her way back to the bar. She did
several things at the bar, none of which Hermson could see
clearly, and then went back to the main entrance and allowed more
crew members to enter.
Hermson decided it was time he started his speech. “I am
Commander Hermson, as I’m sure most of you know. I have only
served under the captain for a few weeks, as have most of us, yet
we were already developing a strong friendship. I will miss her
greatly.” Hermson paused. “I also had the honor of serving with
Lieutenant Commander Frank La Salle aboard the Cairo. He was a
good officer, and died for what he believed in. He couldn’t have
chosen a better way to die, if there truly is a ‘good’ way. As
for Mr. Kunak and Mr. Blorman… I did not know them that well.
However, in the brief time that I have interacted with each of
them, they seemed professional and devoted to their duty to
Starfleet and the Federation. All of them died with honor and
dignity.”
As Hermson reached the end of his speech, the assembled crew
erupted into applause. Hermson said, “Thank you,” and walked into
the crowd. Lydia Parker assumed Hermson’s position at the front
of the room.
“The food and drinks will be served from seventeen hundred
till twenty hundred. Enjoy the rare Vulcan, Andorian, Ferengi,
and Earth delicacies that are real, not replicated. They were
prepared by some of the best chefs on Vulcan, Andor, Ferenginar,
and Earth, and I can personally vouch for their quality, so enjoy
them as much as possible!” Parker walked back to the bar, and
started putting out the drinks. Other waiters began putting the
food on some empty tables.
Hermson approached the bar. “May I speak to you, Hostess?”
“Sure.” She looked at Hermson expectently, and added almost
as an afterthought, “Call me Lydia.”
“Lydia,” Hermson began, “where did you acquire all of those
foodstuffs?”
“I’m good.” Parker put some more drinks on the bar. “I
know a lot of people, and I can be very persuasive. I got all of
this for practically nothing… except for the Vulcan foods, of
course.”
“I was under the impression that a Vulcan would demand no
fee.”
“Where have you been!?” Parker cried. She finished putting
the drinks on the bar. “Vulcans are almost as bad as Ferengi!”
“Is that so?” Hermson asked dubiously.
“You bet it is!” Parker came to the other side of the bar
and sat down. “With that stoic Vulcan resolve, they won’t bend,
budge, break… It’s almost impossible to get any sort of
discounts! All I have to do is flirt with humans, Andorians, or
Ferengi, and I’ll get a discount… that’s not so with Vulcans.”
“I’d suppose not,” Hermson said, sitting next to the
hostess.
“Grab yourself a drink, Commander.” Parker followed her own
advice. She obtained a long, oval glass filled with a dark purple
liquid. “This is Cardassian kanar.”
“We are currently at war with the Cardassians!” Hermson
responded, alarmed.
“Not much longer with that fancy negotiating that Captain
Jellico fellow is doing,” Parker said, downing the entire glass
with one gulp. “Anyway, it might cost more during wartime, but it
is good!”
Hermson grabbed a glass of kanar. “I will judge for
myself.” He took a sip of it, and spit it back in the glass.
“It’s vile!” He set the glass of kanar of the bar.
“I knew you’d like it,” Parker said. She picked up another
glass, which was filled with a green liquid this time. “This is
Bajoran tagoslauce. Not as good as some kanar, but still
tasteful.” She took a sip, and smiled. “This is the only one in
my stock.” She handed the glass to Hermson. “You try it.”
Hermson put the glass down on the bar quickly, right next to
the kanar. “Considering my experience with kanar, I think I’ll
pass.”
“Oh, but you really must try it!” Parker thrust the glass
of tagoslauce near Hermson’s face. “Come on, it won’t bite…”
“That’s not what I’m afraid of.” Hermson stood up.
“Hostess Parker, I have duties I must attend to.”
“Liar. Your shift doesn’t begin until tomorrow.” Parker
smiled wickedly. “Which will give us plenty of time to go to…
spend some quality time with each other.”
“I do not believe that Klamites and humans would be
compatible!” Hermson said hurriedly, and left Eight-Foward without
another word.
“If Klingons are compatible with me, so are Klamites…”
Parker muttered angrily.

The next morning, Commander Hermson entered the bridge and
sat in the command chair, ready to begin his shift. Lieutenant
Commander Dallas immediately cast a sly grin in the Klamite’s
direction.
“Do you have a problem, Commander?” Hermson asked.
Dallas laughed. “It’s all over the ship…”
“What is?”
Drake snickered. “The hostess told everyone in Eight-
Forward last night…” He smiled. “She got drunk on some
Cardassian stuff… I don’t know what it’s called…”
“Kanar,” Hermson put in.
“Yeah, that’s it. Anyway, she got on top of the bar, and
proclaimed that she will gladly take command of your ship, so to
speak.”
Hermson growled. He would have to talk to Lydia Parker.
“She was drunk, Ensign, as you said. She had no control over her
actions…”
“If you say so, Commander,” Dallas said, stifling her
laughter.
“I think she’s on to him…” Drake speculated.
I’m going to have to get another assignment… Hermson
thought unhappily.

Aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant Commander Data went
through the events of the past few weeks in his mind. The
Garthusians had made extensive modifications to his behavior
programming, and he still did not know why. Whatever the
Garthusians did, it was eliminated when he was shut down by the
explosion of his Operations console at the Battle of Feronium. He
assumed her would never know why the Garthusians did what they
did.
He walked into Main Engineering, and almost bumped into
Lieutenant Reginald Barclay.
“Oh oh oh… I’m s-s-s-so sor-sorry, s-s-s-sir,” Barclay
said nervously. “So sorry…”
“No apology is necessary, Lieutenant,” Data said. “Where is
Lieutenant Alaimo?”
“He’s in the chief engineer’s office,” Barclay answered.
“Wh-what’s going on?”
“Nothing of interest,” Data said. “Lieutenant, attend to
your duties.”
“Aye-aye, sir.” Barclay quickly scurried away.
Data walked into the chief engineer’s office. Lieutenant
Alaimo was poised over the matter-antimatter reactor display
console, squinting at what it said. “Lieutenant Alaimo, a word
please.”
The engineer was startled and jumped up, but momentarily
regained composure. He turned to face Data. “What may I do for
you, Commander?”
“Captain Picard told me to check up on you.” Data walked up
to Alaimo. “You recently transferred here from the Ticonderoga?”
“That’s right,” Alaimo said bitterly. “According to the
reports, that ship was lost early on. It was a fine ship.”
“Revolutionary-class starships are quite admirably designed.
I had the distinction of serving on the Revolutionary itself when
it was first commissioned. I had the rank of lieutenant, junior
grade, and I was a minor engineering officer.”
“Yeah, so was I, before I was promoted and sent here.”
Alaimo fidgeted. “Commander, may I return to work? The warp core
needs some minor adjustments.”
“Of course, Lieutenant.” Data left the chief engineer’s
office, and headed for the nearest turbolift. When he entered the
turbolift, he said, “Deck two.” The doors slid shut, and the
turbolift was sent on its way.

Geordi La Forge was distracted from the story he was reading
by the door chime. “Come in!” he called, annoyed.
The doors slid open, and Data walked into Geordi’s quarters.
The door slid shut behind him. Data noticed the PADD in Geordi’s
hands. “I hope I am not disturbing you.”
“Oh, no Data,” Geordi said hurriedly. “I’m just reading
something by someone named Jason Vines…”
“Jason Vines,” Data said, head twitching. “Human twenty-
first century author and NASA commander.”
Geordi nodded. “Yes, that’s him. I’m reading something
called The Alien Pandemonium.”
“One of his early novels.”
“Hmm-hmmm.” Geordi set the PADD down, and laid back on his
couch. “What’s on your mind, Data?”
“Your mental health,” Data responded. “I was wondering how
you were doing.”
“With those drugs, it’s going just fine.” Geordi patted the
spot next to him on the couch. “Have a seat.”
Data sat down next to Geordi. “I am puzzled as to why the
other members of the Vraris away team did not experience any side
effects.”
“Maybe it’s our uniqueness,” Geordi offered. “You’re an
android, and I have a VISOR. The Garthusians could have singled
us out, because the others are a dime a dozen, but people like us
are rare…”
Data processed that information. “I have another
hypothesis. The Garthusians could be using us, or have tried to
use us, as tools.”
“Tools for what?”
“The destruction of the Federation. The Garthusians may
have wanted to ‘control’ us in some fashion. Perhaps, had the
Garthusian programming not been eliminated because of that
explosion, I would have been used to sabotage the Enterprise.”
“A likely theory,” Geordi accepted. “The emotions and
contractions were just a side effect.”
“Exactly.” Data paused. “I think someone has already tried
to trigger that programming.”
Geordi stared at Data worriedly. “What? When?”
“On Kumilak. One of the Romulans tried to access my
positronic net using a PADD.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I just figured it out. The transmission was masked from my
awareness, until now. I suppose it was not meant to be blocked
from my memory for this amount of time.”
Geordi thought over that idea. No technology in the
Federation could do something like that to Data. The Romulans
must’ve gotten such technology from the Garthusians. “I guess
you’re right, Data. There’s no telling what those Garthusians
have up their sleeve.”
“Our knowledge of the Garthusians is still fairly
rudimentary,” Data concured. “Hopefully, the Garthusian rebels
will be able to teach us all we need to know.”
Geordi shook his head. “I still don’t trust them. It could
be another Garthusian trick. The whole thing could be a ploy to
get a significant number of our forces inside their space and
eradicate them, leaving the whole Federation and Klingon Empire
vulnerable to attack.”
“You have a valid point,” Data conceded. “However, they are
our only chance to win the war.”
“I know that’s true.” Geordi sighed. “How far away are we
from Starbase 68?”
“One hour.”

Captain’s log, stardate 44352.9. The Enterprise and the
Lexington are nearing Starbase 68 to meet with Admiral Skrell.
Soon, the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and the Garthusian
rebels will launch a final assault against Vraris, the Garthusian
homewold. If all goes well, Vraris will be destroyed. I have to
admit, I am feeling apprehension about this alliance with the
Garthusian rebels. Knowing the Garthusians, this is just yet
another trap. This is our only chance for survival, though, and
we have to take what we can get.

Captain Picard looked up at the main viewer as Admiral
Skrell appeared.
“Well done, Captain,” Skrell said. “You have saved the
Federation yet again.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Picard replied. “Do we have a battle
strategy for the Vraris operation yet?”
“Jokork Mizalyoyesyes and my team of admirals have begun to
develop one. The strategy would be greatly enhanced if you joined
the team.”
“I would be honored, Admiral.”
“Most satisfactory, because you are becoming my new
adjuctant. Prepare to dock.” Skrell’s image winked out, to be
replaced by the mushroom-style Starbase 68.
“You heard him, Ensign,” Picard said. He watched the bay
doors of the starbase begin to open. “Take us in.”

Picard, Riker, and Data strode through the corridors of
Starbase 68, heading for the main conference room on the command
level.
“I heard that Skrell can be pretty demanding of his
adjuctants,” Riker said as the walked.
“So have I,” Picard said. “I just hope I don’t get a desk
job.”
The three of them made it to the lounge doors. They slid
open, and the team walked in, and the doors slid shut. Four
admirals, including Skrell and Jordan, and one blue Garthusian sat
around a long conference table. There were three empty seats.
Picard, Riker, and Data took those.
“You already have had the pleasure of meeting the Jokork and
Skrell,” Jordan said to Picard. “The other two admirals are
T’Lara and Nechayev.”
“Your reputation precedes you, Captain Picard,” T’Lara said.
“Your accomplishments are worthy of great respect.”
“Thank you,” Picard said.
“Let’s get on with it,” Nechayev said grumpily.
Jordan grinned. “Don’t mind her, Captain. She’s the
admiral in charge of most of the Cardassian border. She’s bound
to be a bit grumpy.”
“Introduce your officers,” Skrell said tonelessly.
Picard nodded. “On my right is my first officer, Commander
William T. Riker.”
Riker nodded and smiled. “Hello.”
“And on my left is my second officer and Operations Manager,
Lieutenant Commander Data.”
“Greetings,” Data said.
“Let’s proceed,” Skrell said. “Starfleet Command has
authorized the use of over a thousand starships for this
operation. That will make this go a lot quicker.”
“The plan is,” Jordan continued, “for the Federation and
Klingon fleets to use Tryolic Wormhole Deta-Keuler-Bans-Noner in
proceeding to Vraris. The two fleets will attack the Garthusian
vessels stationed as Vraris.”
“The Garthusians will think that this is a desperate last
effort,” T’Lara went on. “They will proceed to engage our fleets.
Precisely two minutes after, the Garthusian rebels will withdraw
their forces from the Romulan Empire and attack Vraris while the
enemy fleet is occupied.”
“A brilliant plan,” Picard commented. He looked at
Mizalyoyesyes. “Jokork, how can we be sure that you won’t attack
the Federation while it is vulnerable?”
Jordan flashed a look of bloody murder at Picard. “Captain,
you will stop at once!”
If Mizalyoyesyes was angered by Picard’s question, neither
his face nor voice betrayed it. “It is all right, Admiral.” He
turned to Picard. “I assure you, Captain, that I am sincere. I
swear it upon the Grogonarginox itself.”
“What is a Grogori-whatever?” Nechayev asked skeptically.
“The Grogonarginox is the Garthusian culture’s most sacred
artifact. It was the ship that guarded the Julimas Territories,
in your Delta Quadrant, from enemy incursions. The Grogonarginox
defeated every Borg invasion force to invade Garthusian space.”
Picard winced at the mention of the Borg. Even after all of
these weeks, the Borg were still difficult to think about.
“The Garthusian Empire extended all the way to the Delta
Quadrant?” Skrell questioned.
“Not the whole length,” Mizalyoyesyes said. “The Alpha
Quadrant and the Delta Quadrant were connected by one super-
charged tryolic wormhole that took a decade to construct.”
“What happened to the Delta Quadrant section of the empire?”
Data inquired.
“We were forced to call in every citizen from the Delta
Quadrant to serve as reinforcements when during the Fury war. The
Furies got light of this wormhole, and managed to destroy it.”
Nechayev raised her eyebrows. “Just how do you destroy a
tryolic wormhole, Jokork? The only way I know of is to let it
degrade over time.”
“They sent a warship into the wormhole when our forces were
diverted by another battle,” Mizalyoyesyes explained. “When it
was inside, the ship self-destructed. The resulting implosion
sent cataclysmic energy waves through the wormhole, which
disrupted the tryolic wavelength patterns. The wormhole collapsed
in five minutes.”
“Forgive my skepticism, Jokork,” T’Lara said, “but if there
were no forces present at the time, how did the Garthusians
determine what strategy the Furies used, and how did they record
how long it took for the wormhole to collapse?”
“A small sentry probe monitored the event. The Furies did
not think it posed any significant threat, so they ignored it.”
Picard slowly nodded. “I must praise you on a fine record
keeping system, Jokork. It is hard to be so precise about events
that happened six thousand years ago.”
“Garthusians pride themselves on their record keeping
skills,” Mizalyoyesyes said coldly. “Now, onto the battle
strategy please?”
“That is satisfactory,” Skrell said. “Is there anything
anyone would like to add to the strategy?”
Picard sighed. “Admiral, there should be something in place
just in case the Jokork here is lying.”
Nechayev nodded in agreement. “What if they decide to
attack? Then what do we do?”
“This is our only chance to win the war!” Jordan said. “We
will be destroyed either way if the Blues are lying!”
“Picard’s concerns are not without merit,” T’Lara stated
emotionlessly. “I have gone over the logs of the Normandy.
Jokork Mizalyoyesyes did indicate that they could destroy Vraris
with or without our help.”
Jordan let out a deep breath of exasperation. “So, again,
we die either way! Isn’t it worth the risk?”
One loud grating scraping sound emanated from Mizalyoyesyes.
“This is becoming tiresome. Admiral Jordan is right. You have
nothing to lose.”
Riker looked at Captain Picard. “I’m forced to agree, sir.”
Picard sat in his chair, grating his teeth, thinking it
over. He had to admit, the Federation had nothing to lose. He
let out a long sigh. “Let’s do it.”
“Very well,” Skrell said. “The Federation and Klingon
fleets will rendevous at the Nutrob system, and then enter the
tryolic wormhole.”
“Once my forces in Romulan space are informed that the
Federation and the Klingons have engaged the Grays, they will to
enter tryolic wormholes and go to Vraris,” Mizalyoyesyes said.
“I’ll be ready in case the Cardies try anything,” Nechayev
said unenthusiastically.
“Acknowledged,” Skrell said. “Is there anything else?”
“One thing, sir,” Picard said. “Who will command the
Federation fleet?”
“You will,” Skrell said. “You will command both the
Federation and Klingon fleets from the Enterprise.”
“Thank you, Admiral. Another question, though: why did you
make me your adjuctant?”
“That was the only way you’d be able to command the mission,
and you know more about fighting the Garthusians that anyone else
in Starfleet. You are the most logical choice.” Skrell stood up.
“Is there any other business?” Everyone was silent. “Dismissed.”

Counselor Deanna Troi strode through Starbase 68′s Promenade
along with Doctor Beverly Crusher. Starbase 68 was paradise
compared to Starbase 123. There were numerous all-style
restaurants and shops, with customers of a variety of races…
including humans. This Promenade was bustling with activity,
unlike Starbase 123.
“Have you tried the Klingon restaurant?” Beverly asked Troi.

Troi shook her head. “Do I want to?”
Beverly laughed. “Not for the food, no. But the restaurant
is owned by this really old Klingon named T’Rokor. History is his
hobby… and he sure is old enough for it. He told me he actually
met Captain James Kirk once.”
“Really? What did T’Rokor say about Kirk?”
Beverly smiled. “He said that Kirk was an overbearing
fascist dictator.” She paused. “In other words, a Klingon at
heart.”
“I wouldn’t mention that to Worf,” Troi said with a grin.
“By the way, where are we going?”
“There’s this one really neat museum I wanted to show you.
It’s all about-”
“Picard to Enterprise crew,” their commbadged loudly
interrupted. “Report to the Enterprise. The operation will soon
commence. Picard out.”
All around them, Starfleet officers were rapidly changing
directions. They were all heading for the airlocks. Most of the
ships docked at Starbase 68 would take part in the Vraris attack.
“I don’t like this,” Troi said, looking at the officers
cramming the airlock corridors.
“Neither do I,” Beverly said. She slapped her commbadge.
“Crusher to Transporter Room Three.”
“O’Brien here. Want me to rescue you from the long lines,
Doctor?” he asked with humor.
“Would you please,” Crusher said smiling. “Might as well
beam the counselor aboard too, while you’re at it.”
“Aye, Doctor. Energizing.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Captain’s log, stardate 44356.2. The Federation and Klingon
fleets are ready to begin the attack on the Garthusian homeworld.
Eighty-two Federation vessels will be from the region of Starbase
68. Starships from all over the Federation will participate in
the attack; this will leave the Federation quite vulnerable.
Let’s hope the Cardassians, or anyone else, don’t take advantage
of this opportunity.

Captain Picard sat in the command chair, trying to clear his
mind. He needed to stay focused. However, it wasn’t easy. Even
the Vulcans on board seemed to be ever so slightly on edge. The
only one who wasn’t affected was Data.
“We should arrive at Nutrob in four days, sir,” Data
reported.
“Lovely,” Picard muttered. “How long until the entire fleet
is assembled at Nutrob?”
“One week and two days.” Data seemed to pick up on Picard’s
displeasure. “Captain, Federation space is quite vast.”
“I know that, Data.” Picard sighed. “That really doesn’t
help matters.”
Data raised an eyebrow. “Sir, it does help matters. It
makes it harder for invading forces to conquer the Federation.”
“Well, that’s good, at least,” Riker said, looking at the
captain.
“Indeed it is, Number One,” Picard agreed. He looked up at
Worf. “Lieutenant, I want you to drill your security forces
around the clock. Also, arrange for surprise drills twice a day.
We need to be ready for the attack.”
“We will be, Captain,” Worf replied. He inputed some
intructions into the tactical console. “I have programmed several
drilling times into the computer.”
“Good, Mr. Worf,” Picard said.

Admiral Nechayev looked at the starbase the starship was
approaching glumly. It was time to fight more Cardassians. She
didn’t look forward to it at all.
“Admiral,” Captain Johnson said from the aft section of the
bridge, “Starbase 268 reports that a huge Cardassian fleet will be
here in half an hour.”
“Oh joy,” Nechayev muttered. She lumbered out of the
command chair of the Syracuse and walked into the aft section.
She looked at Captain Johnson. “How many ships?”
“Two hundred, Admiral,” Johnson said. “The Cardassians are
saying that they have a benign cause…”
Nechayev snorted. “Not likely. Put the sector on red
alert, and be prepared for Cardassian attack.”
Johnson grunted, but inputed the instructions into the
tactical console anyway. The alams started howling, and the
bridge was bathed in a red glow. “We’re at red alert sir, and
we’re prepared for a Cardassian attack, for all the good it’ll do
us.”
“I know what you mean,” Nechayev said, sitting back down in
the command chair. “Most of the ships are dedicated to the Vraris
operation, and the Cardassians just have to strike now. Damn them
anyway.” She turned back to Johnson. “Just how many starships
are in this sector?”
“Twelve, Admiral,” Johnson said with disgust. “They’re all
either Oberth-class or Miranda-class.”
“Against two hundred Cardassian warships,” Nechayev
finished. “That’s just grand.”
The Operations officer, Lieutenant Passyer, looked back at
Nechayev. “Admiral, we’re ready to dock.”
“Don’t dock,” Nechayev said. She stood up. “I’ll just beam
over to the starbase, and the Syracuse can stay outside in case it
has to fight.”
“Understood,” Johnson said. She strode from the tactical
station and sat in the command chair. “If only we weren’t so
understaffed…”
“Well, I can’t lend you any people,” Nechayev said. “My
starbase is almost bare-bones too.” She slapped her commbadge.
“Nechayev to Starbase 268. Beam me directly to the command
center.”

Nechayev materialized in the command center, and immediately
barked out orders. “Hail the lead Cardassian ship.”
The starbase’s communications chief, Lieutenant Harold,
said, “The Cardassian commander is being put on screen.”
A smug Cardassian face appeared on the large main viewer.
He smiled. “Admiral Nechayev, how very nice to speak with you.”
“Cut the crap,” Nechayev snapped. “Why is a large
Cardassian fleet of warships heading into Federation space?”
“We merely want to help you-”
“Bull.”
The Cardassian frowned. “Admiral, I am being sincere.” He
paused. “I haven’t even introduced myself. I am Gul Dukat.”
Nechayev snorted. “Gul Dukat? Finding torturing innocent
Bajorans a little boring, are we?”
Dukat grated his teeth. “I enforce policy, not make it.
Much like your Federation President does.”
“Why is the Cardassian Central Command taking its grand
Enforcer-of-Policy away from Bajor?”
“Do you want our assistance in destroying Vraris or not?”
Nechayev fumed. “How did you find out about that!?”
“Come now, Admiral. The Obsidian Order might be abrasive
and unpleasant, but it does do its job admirably.” Dukat leaned
forward. “I need your answer, Admiral.”
Nechayev considered her response. “I’ll have to think about
it.”
Dukat nodded. “Very well. Take this into account in your
deliberations as well: if you do not accept my generous offer, the
Cardassian Central Command has ordered me to launch a full-scale
assault on your sector. It will be annexed by the Cardassian
Union, and all Starfleet officers will be executed.” Dukat
sighed. “I really don’t want to do that, but I have no choice if
you refuse.”
Nechayev scowled. “I’m sure,” she said sarcastically. She
thought about her next words. She really didn’t have any choice
in the matter. “I will let you assist us.”
Dukat smiled. “Excellent. My fleet will be arriving
shortly.”
“Don’t bother,” Nechayev grumbled. “Just go to the Nutrob
system as soon as possible.”
Dukat turned away for a moment, then looked back.
“Understood. Dukat out.” His image winked off, replaced by
normal space.
“Damn the Cardassians and their arrogance,” Nechayev
muttered.

***

Captain’s log, stardate 44361.5. The Federation and Klingon
fleets have assembed in the Nutrob system to commence the Vraris
operation. The only thing holding us back is waiting for the
Cardassian fleet under Gul Dukat to arrive. I am even more
suspicious of the Cardassians than I am of the Garthusian rebels.
The Cardassians have a long history of half-truths and lies.
However, the Cardassians have threatened a full-scale assault on
the Federation if we do not let them help, and Starfleet is not
ready to repel another invasion, so we are forced to grant their
wishes.

Commander Riker angrily tapped his fingers against the
armrests of his chair. “The Cardassians had better hurry up…”
“Get the Cardassians again, Mr. Worf,” Picard ordered.
“What is their ETA?”
“Their ETA is five minutes,” Worf growled out. “I still say
that we leave without them…”
“Then what?” Troi, who had decided to be on the bridge,
replied. “The Cardassians will attack without opposition…”
“We cannot keep on letting our foes command our actions!
They will become convinced that the Federation is weak!”
Riker looked at Data. “How many starships has the
Federation lost this year, to the Borg, Garthusians, and other
causes?”
Data tapped the query into the Ops console. “Nine-hundred
forty-seven.”
“There are at least a thousand starships in the Federation
right now,” Worf argued.
“And hardly any of them are capable of mounting a serious
defense,” Riker finished. “The bulk of the Federation is fleet is
here.”
“The Cardassian fleet has arrived,” Data announced.
Worf said fiercely, “Gul Dukat is hailing us.”
“On screen,” Picard said, standing up and walking up to the
main viewer.
Gul Dukat smiled at Captain Picard. “How very nice to meet
you, Captain.”
“Cut to the chase,” Picard replied. “Is your fleet ready?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Good. Picard out.” He sat back down in the command chair.
“Mr. Worf, open the wormhole.”
Worf fired a phaser burst, and the wormhole opened. The
anomoly cast a flickering bluish-silver light on the surrounding
space.
“Signal all ships to head in.”
The massive fleet stormed into the wormhole, dozens of ships
at a time.

***

On Romulus, Commander Sela rushed into the contol room and
stared at the main monitor. It was currently showing a tactical
layout of the Romulan system, with five sphereships heading for
Romulan itself. One hundred D’Deridex-class Romulan Warbirds
surrounded the planets of Romulus and Remus, ready to defend
against the Garthusian invaders.
“We don’t have a chance,” Subcommander N’Vek said, walking
up to her.
“Don’t say that,” Sela snapped. “I could have you
executed.”
N’Vek nodded. “Understood, Commander.” He went back to his
console, which was among many in the huge chamber. “The Senate
has informed us that Romulus and Remus must survive.”
“I intend for the whole empire to survive.” She stared at
the system monitor. The Garthusians were almost in range of
Romulus. “Tell the warbirds to engage the enemy.”
“Wait,” N’Vek said, holding up his hand. “The Garthusians
are hailing us.”
“Ignore them.”
N’Vek raised an eyebrow. “The Praetor says he will devour
you if you don’t answer.”
Sela cursed. “Fine. Put the Garthusian commander on
screen.”
A blue Garthusian replaced the tactical view on the monitor.
“I am offering you terms for surrender.”
“We will never surrender!” Sela shouted.
“You will hear our terms,” the Garthusian continued.
“First, all of your forces outside of your territory must return.
Second, your alliance with the Grays must be terminated
immediately.”
“The Grays will annhiliate us.”
“The Grays are no longer a concern. Soon, their base of
power will be destroyed, and they will be irrelevant. Now, on
with the terms. The Treaty of Algernon must be renewed.”
Sela was silent.
“Any violation of these guidelines, and the Garthusian
Republic will take over the Romulan Empire. You have one hour to
reply.”
Sela seethed. “I don’t need an hour! We won’t surrender!”
“Actually, you will. I have just received a message from
your Senate. With a majority vote, they have surrendered.”
Sela slammed her fist against the nearest console. “How
could they!?”
N’Vek looked at Sela in alarm. “Commander, the Senate has
informed me that you will be demoted to security head. Until a
new person is found to fill your position, I will take your
place.”
Sela sighed heavily. “Damn!”

***

The fleet of starships poured out of the tryolic wormhole,
to find three thousand Garthusian spheres in the Vraris system.
They were caught by surprise.
“Let’s take this surprise to our advantage,” Picard said.
“Cruiser wings, go after the upward flank. Attack wings, get the
Garthusians at the downward flank. Frigate wings and Galaxy
wings, choose targets at will.”
“Attack commencing,” Riker acknowledged.
On the main viewer, there was a huge frenzy of activity.
The Federation, Cardassian, and Klingon ships scored numerous hits
against the many Garthusians, but they had little effect. The
spheres began picking off their attackers one by one. The
numerous energy beams and torpedoes made it hard to distinguish
between the different ships.
“The fleet is suffering heavy casulaties,” Riker reported.
“Sir, the Garthusians have launched saucers and pyramids!”
Worf proclaimed.
“Signal the Fighter wings to come into the fray, Number
One,” Picard said. “Have them engage the enemy fighters.”
“Fighters underway,” Riker replied.
Picard watched the destruction on the viewscreen. The
Garthusians were easily winning the battle. “Mr. Crusher, lay in
a complex evasive maneuver course. Mr. Worf, prepare to fire all
weapons.”
“Aye, sir,” both of them replied.
Picard watched the main viewer some more. He saw that the
friendly ships were drawing the enemy ships away from Vraris.
Now, if only the Garthusian rebels would arrive.
The Enterprise quaked severely. Everyone fell out of their
seats, or fell down from where they were standing. Every console
along the back wall exploded, depositing badly charred bodies all
over the bridge. The main lighting was off-line, so the
emeregency lighting kicked in. Slowly, the remaining crew retook
their stations.
“Ten Garthusian spheres attacked us at one time!” Worf
shouted. “Our shields are down!”
“We’re all suffering heavy casualties, sir,” Riker stated
grimly. “The rebels should be here by now.”
“They have one minute six seconds left,” Data reminded him.
“It’s only been less than a minute…” Riker muttered. “My
God…”
Suddenly, the computer started howling, “Intruder alert in
Main Engineering…”

Geordi and Alaimo kept the genetically engineered creature
at bay while the other engineering personnel escaped.
“I thought these things never got to the twenty-fourth
century…” Alaimo said.
“I thought the same thing,” Geordi responded.
[We were secretly shipped,] the creature said. [Our masters
did not want the Lower Romulans to find out.]
“Makes sense,” Geordi said.
That was when the creature dissolved in the standard
transporter effect of Federation transporters.

“It is working,” Chief O’Brien reported over the comm. “The
transporters are beaming in the life-forms and terminating their
patterns immediately.”
“Good job, Mr. O’Brien,” Picard congratulated warmly.
“Picard to Engineering.”
“La Forge here. Captain, what did you do?”
“We killed it with the transporter,” Picard answered. “Now,
I need you to focus on repairing those shields while the
transporters deal with the intruders.”
“Aye, Captain. Engineering out.”
Riker looked at the captain. “Sir, the Backgammon,
Par’Mach, and Cairo are currently protecting us while we restore
shields.”
“Then let’s hurry.”

Commander Caesar on the Backgammon eyed the Enterprise with
intensity. He wished the ship would finish up with shield
repairs.
“One thousand friendly ships left,” the chief tactical
officer, Lieutenant Porter, declared.
“Hurry up rebels…” Caesar muttered.
“Commander!” the chief of operations, Lieutenant Commander
Frankson, shouted, “the Garthusians are locking weapons on us!”
“They’re firing!” Porter yelled.
The Backgammon suffered under the enemy barrage. The
stations all around the bridge exploded. The glow of emergency
lighting bathed the bridge. Caesar and the first officer,
Lieutenant Commander Smithing, were the only ones still alive on
the bridge.
“The Enterprise isn’t going to be too well protected,”
Smithing said needlessly.

“Captain, the Par’Mach and Backgammon have taken heavy
damage,” Riker said. “One more shot and they’re gone.”
“Status of the shields,” Picard barked.
“Commander La Forge is working as fast as he can to restore
them, sir,” Data answered.
The Par’Mach exploded on the main viewer, sending debris
everywhere. The Enterprise shuddered under the shock wave and
debris impacts.
“Hull breach on deck nine,” Data stated. “Force fields are
holding, and damage control teams have been deployed.”
Worf raised an eyebrow. “Sir, a Garthusian torpedo is
heading for the Backgammon.”
“Beam the Backgammon survivors aboard,” Picard ordered.
“Transport underway,” Data acknowledged. “The ten survivors
have been beamed to sickbay.”
“Good.” Picard watched the Backgammon explode under the
torpedo’s impact helplessly as he checked the timer on the command
chair’s right armrest. It indicated that the Garthusian rebels
had five seconds to go. He hoped they’d arrive on time.
The Enterprise shook under a Garthusian disruptor blast.
“Transporters have been knocked off-line,” Data reported.
“They are beaming more life-forms onto the Enterprise.”
Picard gritted his teeth. “Mr. Worf, let’s hope your
security drills did some good.”
“I can guarantee it,” Worf said proudly.
“Sir, the shields have been partially restored,” Data said.
“Also, multiple tryolic wormholes are forming around Vraris.”
“On screen!” Picard shouted excitedly.
The tryolic wormholes and Vraris appeared on the main
viewer. The wormholes completely formed, and dozens of spheres
began to pour into orbit.
“The rebels have launched dozens of enviroment destroyers,”
Worf said. “So far, they are colliding harmlessly against
Vraris’s shields.”
The spheres began pounding the shields with disruptor beams
and torpedoes. Now, thousands of rebel spheres were surrounding
Vraris. All of them were firing their weapons.
“The enemy is going to Vraris to try to stop the rebels,
sir,” Riker said. “They are abandoning their fight with the
Federation, Cardassian, and Klingon fleets.”
Picard nodded and stood up. He approached the front of the
bridge. “Report.”
Data tapped several buttons on his console. “Captain, two
hundred sixty-four Federation starships remain. One hundred
Klingon vessels have survived intact, and there are eighty-nine
Cardassian warships left.”
“My God…” Wesley said.
“A good and sad day,” Picard commented. He turned to Worf.
“What about the intruders?”
“Most have been destroyed using photon grenades,” Worf
replied. “However, security around Engineering was decimated
before the security officers could use their phasers to contain
the menace.”
“Then arm yourself with some grenades and get down there,”
Picard ordered.
“Aye, Captain.” He quickly entered the aft turbolift. A
security ensign took his spot at tactical.
Picard turned back to Data. “Report on the Vraris battle.”
“Vraris’s shields are beginning to fail. One enviroment
destroyer has gotten through and has destroyed one-quarter on the
planet’s ecosystem. The rebels are annihilating the Grays
efficiently.”
“Captain, Gul Dukat would like to speak with you,” Riker
said with contempt.
“Put him on,” Picard said with annoyance, facing the main
viewer.
Dukat looked equally annoyed. “Captain Picard, our forces
have suffered heavily.”
“As have everybody’s,” Picard said matter-of-factly.
“What’s your point?”
“My point is, this is the first time that Cardassians and
the Federation have fought and died side-by-side. With the peace
talks going on, I think the war may soon be over.” Dukat sighed.
“I’m going to miss reading those military reports.”
“You always have Bajor to keep you busy,” Picard said
scornfully.
Dukat looked away from his viewer for a moment, then turned
back. “Excuse me, but I have received a transmission from Terok
Nor. It seems that the Bajorans are causing some mischief. I
must leave immediately.”
“Don’t let your warp drive burn your behind on the way out,”
Picard muttered as Dukat was replaced by Vraris and the ships
surrounding it. It looked like Armageddon itself. Disruptor
streams and ships were everywhere. Weapons were pounding the
planet more fiercely than anything Picard had seen before in his
life.

Jokork Mizalyoyesyes struggled to keep standing as the Grays
relentlessly pounded his sphere. The Threat forces knew which
sphere was the flagship, and they were targeting it. Almost all
of the crew was dead, and most of the systems were inoperative.
“Vraris ecosystem demolished,” the computer said in a
monotone. The computer had taken over the functions of the fallen
crew. “Vraris shields down.”
Mizalyoyesyes hesitated before he gave his next order. It
was difficult to make the decision to destroy Vraris in the first
place. It was the most sacred thing in the Garthusian Empire, and
to even talk of harming it was normally a capital offense.
However, in this case, it was necessary. Without Vraris, the
Grays would never be able to regain power. “Computer… signal
all ships for destroy planet operation.”
“Operation initiated.”
The rebel spheres slowly stopped their assault on Vraris.
They began to heat up their warp drives. The Grays went on
ramming courses, but it was too late. The rebel ships went to
warp, and nano-seconds later rammed into Vraris.

“What the hell!?” Picard exclaimed. On the main viewer, the
rebels had just rammed Vraris. Now, the planet was completely
destroyed, and a shock wave was rapidly approaching. The
Garthusians, all Garthusians, in the system were gone, victims of
the powerful energies released by the planet’s destruction.
“There is a level twenty shock wave approaching,” Data said
calmly. “We must withdraw at maximum warp.” Data checked his
console. “We have four minutes until the shock wave approaches
the fleet.”
“Most of the ships don’t have warp capability,” Riker told
the captain. “Including us.”
“Then get us into the wormhole!” Picard shouted. “And give
me an update on the intruder situation!”

Lieutenant Worf and five other security officers stormed
into Main Engineering, armed to the teeth with photon grenades and
phaser rifles. Using the techniques he had learned from Doom and
Quake, Worf had managed to kill every other intruder on the ship,
except for those in Main Engineering.
The deck was littered with bodies, body parts, and blood.
Blood was dried onto the walls in many places as well. All of the
consoles were shattered beyond recognition.
“I am picking up three humans,” Ensign Olestrea announced,
tricorder in hand. “La Forge, Alaimo, and Barclay are in the
Jeffries tube entrance, sir. They are behind a force field
sucking the juice out of the fusion reactors.” She cursed. “Four
life-forms are trying to get through the force field!”
“We will kill them,” Worf stated. He headed for the
Jeffries tube entrance door. “I will neutralize them with my
phaser rifle,” he said. “I will then move a safe distance away,
and you will throw the grenades.”
“Yes, sir,” the officers said. They each took a grenade
from their belts and deactivated their safeties. “Ready, sir.”
Worf nodded. He readied his phaser rifle, and tapped the
button to open the door. The doors slid open, and Worf
immediately held his finger to the trigger. The setting sixteen
phaser beam struck the creatures and they immediately stood in one
spot, shuddering with the intense pain of the phaser beam. Worf
walked to the other side of the room, careful to keep his beam on
target. The security officers armed their grenades and threw them
at the creatures, then hid behind the master status display table.
Moments later, the grenades hit their targets and exploded, taking
the life-forms with them. Even more body parts and blood were
added to the deck and walls.
Worf stopped firing and slung the phaser rifle’s strap on
his shoulder. Then he approached the Jerries tube access. He saw
Geordi, Alaimo, and Barclay sitting beside the ladder. Barclay
was crying, and the other two were trying to comfort him.
Geordi looked up at Worf. “Man, are we glad you got here!”
He stood up and walked up to the entrance, then pressed some
buttons to deactivate the force field. “In fifteen minutes that
field would have short-circuited…”
Alaimo pulled Barclay to his feet. “Yeah, but if only
Barclay would stop crying!”
Barclay was already beginning to clear up, but he whimpered
at Alaimo’s remark. “That was not funny!”
Geordi looked at Barclay with sympathy. “Come on. I’ll
take you to Counselor Troi.” He took Barclay’s arm, and led him
into the nearest turbolift.
“What was he crying about?” Olestrea asked in disbelief.
Alaimo grunted. “He thought that those things were going to
kill us.”
“They might have,” Worf replied. He slapped his commbadge.
“Worf to Captain Picard.”
“Picard here. Report, Lieutenant.”
“The engineered life-forms have been purged from the ship,”
Worf responded. “They no longer pose a threat.”
“Good work, Mr. Worf. Report to the bridge at once.”
“Aye, sir.”

Captain’s log, stardate 44363.3. The Garthusian Empire has
been defeated, and the former rebels are in control now. They
have renamed their space “The Garthusian Republic.” The Republic
has expressed their sincere gratitude to the Federation, Klingons,
and Cardassians for helping them restore democracy to their
people. The newly elected leader of the Republic, Jokork
Carlerayes, has made a rather unusual request.

Commander Hermson strode into Picard’s ready room. “What is
it, Captain?”
Picard handed Hermson the PADD he was holding. “I have
received orders from Admiral Skrell. You are being promoted to
captain, and are officially in command of the Lexington.” He
handed Hermson the full pip he was holding in his other hand.
“Congratulations.”
Hermson slowly put the full pip on, resulting in four full
pips on his collar. “Do I have any orders?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Picard stood up. “The
Garthusian Republic has requested that a Federation starship,
along with Klingon, Cardassian, and Romulan ambassadors, be
allowed to explore their space. They recognize that we thirt for
knowledge, and they intend to help quench that thirst.” He
smiled. “For a little while, at least.”
Hermson nodded. “Understood. I also have some requests I’d
like to make.”
“Go ahead.”
“I need a new chief engineer, chief science officer, chief
of security, and a new chief of operations.”
“I can personally recommend some.” Picard frowned. “What
happened to your operations officer? I thought she was still
alive.”
“She has resigned her commission.”
Picard nodded. “I see.” He walked up to Hermson. “For the
position of chief engineer, I recommend Lieutenant Alaimo in my
engineering department.”
“The job is his if he wants it. I hear he’s quite
competent.”
“He is. Oh, and for first officer, Admiral Skrell has a
recommendation.”
Hermson paused. “Who would that be?”
“Commander Caesar, his former adjuctant.”
“I will be willing to give him a try. Is that all?”
“Yes. You will receive formal orders tomorrow. Dismissed.”
Hermson strode out of the ready room.
Picard slapped his commbadge. “Picard to Alaimo.”
“Alaimo here, Captain.”
“Would you mind being chief engineer aboard the Lexington?”
“Not at all!” Alaimo said excitedly. “When do I leave?”
“Right now.”
“Thanks! Alaimo out!”
Picard grinned, and entered the bridge. He took the command
chair.
“Mr. Alaimo has beamed aboard the Lexington,” Data reported.
“Very well,” Picard said. He turned back to Geordi, who was
at the bridge engineering console. “How’s my ship?”
“Good as new, Captain,” Geordi said happily.
“Good.” Picard faced the main viewer at the very front of
the bridge. “Ensign Crusher, you may lay in any course you like.”
Wesley smiled. “Course laid in.”
Picard pointed forward. “Engage at warp six!”
The Enterprise blazed into warp.

THE END

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Star Trek: The Next Generation is a copyright of Paramount
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The Brigade of the Doomed is copyright Jason Eric Vines.
No profit was made from this story.

1997

THE BRIGADE OF THE DOOMED
PART II

PROLOGUE

The bridge crew watched, transfixed, as the shock wave from the
imploding vessel raced towards them. It knocked the other vessels out of
commission, and they weren’t as severely damaged as the Enterprise. They would
survive it; Enterprise wouldn’t.
“It is a good day to die,” Worf said as the shock wave was within moments
of destroying the Enterprise.

Captain Williams on the Ariel watched in horror as the shock wave took
out the Enterprise. It was so clean… there wasn’t even any time to think about it.
“There are… no debris…” Black said with puzzlement. Then, she nodded.
“The shock wave had residual tryolic waves, no doubt from the power core of the
Garthusian sphere. That explains the lack of an implosion or any debris.”
Williams got out of the command chair and looked at Commander
McGrady. “Memorial service at nineteen hundred,” he said. “I’ll be in the ready
room.”

CHAPTER ONE

Captain Kalome of the Imperial Star Destroyer Gunterge didn’t believe his
eyes. The alien vessel was nothing like he had ever seen before. It had a large
forward section shaped like a saucer, a large section in the aft section with two
long protusions that appeared to connect to some kind of propulsion system. It
was also loaded with numerous other things he’d never even dreamed of. Kalome
turned to his first officer, Commander Jafar. “We will send over troops to
investigate that vessel immediately. It will belong to the Empire!”
“As well as increase your standing,” Jafar replied.
Kalome eyed the first officer warningly. “What?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Good. Now send over the troops!”

Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise awakened.
He looked around him. Everything was dark. He had a hard time breathing. He
must have been in Hell. It figured.
He heard a noise to his right. Picard looked in that direction sharply. He
could make out a form struggling to get up. “Ughh.” It sounded like Commander
Riker.
“Will?” Picard said.
“Captain?” Riker answered.
Picard felt around the back of him. He felt a chair, with the same creaks
and crevices of… the command chair on the Enterprise. He must not have been in
Hell after all. Somehow, the Enterprise had survived the shock wave. “Number
One, we must restore at least partial power.” “What I don’t understand is,”
Riker said, standing up, “why Starfleet didn’t immediately come in and scan for
survivors. It looks like they just left us here to rot.”
Picard scowled at that thought. “I don’t think so. Perhaps that shock wave
knocked out the rest of the fleet, too.”
Riker scrambled for the Jeffries tube access in the aft section of the
bridge. “Well, by staying here we’re not going to accomplish anything. We have
to get to Engineering.”
“Hold on,” Picard cautioned. “We need to check on the conditions of the
rest of the bridge crew.”
Riker came back to where Picard was standing. “All right.” He then
suddenly looked like he saw a ghost. “Deanna. I can’t believe I forgot about her.”
He rushed to where Troi’s chair was, and scanned the area with his eyes the best
he could. “Imzadi?” Riker heard a low groan about one meter away. He could
make out Troi’s crumpled form. He rushed to her side. “Deanna!? Deanna!?
Are you all right?”
She gave a low moan and awakened. She looked around. Will was
kneeling beside her. “Oh Bill…” she muttered in pain.
“We must get her to sickbay,” Picard said. “I want to check you out too,
Commander.”
“I can wait,” Riker replied. “We must help Deanna.”
Troi looked at Picard. “I think I can stand…” she said. She put her hand
up against the wall, and pushed herself up into a standing position. Troi had a
pained expression on her face. “I… think I can make it to sickbay.”
Picard heard someone getting up in the bridge’s aft section. He saw
Worf’s large figure over the blackened tactical console. “So we have not died and
crossed the River of Blood…”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Worf,” Picard said. “Commander Riker and I will get
the counselor to sickbay. Lieutenant, you have the bridge.” Worf looked
around the bridge. “I will make the most of it, sir.” Picard nodded and
gestured at the aft Jeffries tube access. “All right, let’s go…”

Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge struggled to his feet and looked
around. The rest of the engineering personnel were either still unconscious or
struggling to their feet as Geordi was.
“This is a rather poor condition,” came a rushed, nervous voice from
behind Geordi. He nearly had a heart attack. “Did I scare you, sir?” Barclay
asked, noticing how Geordi’s shoulders jerked upward.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Geordi snapped. “I’m sorry,
sir,” Barclay said. He made a point of looking around Engineering and noticing
the matter-antimatter reactor not pulsing. “We need to restore power as soon as
possible.”
Geordi flashed Barclay an angry look. “I know that, Lieutenant! Now, we
have to get EPS power flowing through Engineering, and that way we can see
how much damage we’re dealing with here.”
“I suggest we check the fusion reactors, sir,” Barclay said. “They have
been taxed lately.”
“What a marvelous idea,” Geordi said in a snide tone of voice. “Why
didn’t I think of that? Mr. Barclay, we’ll go to the fusion reactors, okay? Okay.”
Barclay was now standing in front of the chief engineer. He had a
concerned expression on his face. “Sir, are you all right? You normally don’t act
like this.”
Geordi looked around his office. He gave three deep breaths. “You’re
right. Now let’s get down TO THE BUSINESS!”
This time, Barclay actually recoiled. Confused engineers looked in
Geordi’s direction. Geordi thought they couldn’t possibly look more concerned.
“Sir,” Barclay said, “I can go alone…”
“No, we’ll go together,” Geordi said. “Let’s move!”
“Yes, sir!” Barclay said. He rushed for the Jeffries tube access. Geordi
hurried after him.

Doctor Beverly Crusher looked around the dark sickbay. She could barely
see, but she knew that her eyes would soon adapt to the darkness. All around her,
the other medical personnel were struggling to their feet. Crusher hurried to the
diagnostic beds, each one of them with a sick patient. She tripped over some
medical supplied that had fallen on the floor. She picked them up, and kept on
moving.
“Doctor…” one of the patients, Lieutenant Commander Jumption, cried.
Crusher pulled her medical tricorder from her cloak and ran a scan on
Jumption. He had a severe injury to his abdomen and wouldn’t survive too much
longer if the power wasn’t restored soon.
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Jumption asked nervously, after seeing
Crusher’s facial expression.

“Not if I can help it,” Crusher replied. She looked at the medical supplies
she was carrying. One imaging scanner, one hypospray, and one medical kit.
Crusher opened up the medical kit, and took out a hypospray marked with the
color band of pain reliever. She took the hypospray, and inserted some pain
reliever into Jumption’s neck. “That should take away some of the pain.”
Jumption’s facial expression brightened. “I feel better already.”
Crusher gave Jumption a small smile, and moved on to the next patient. She
scanned the patient with her medical tricorder. Dead. Crusher wiped some tears
from her eyes and moved on to the next one.
The sound of all of the doors opening rushed throughout sickbay. Crusher
looked at the nearest door. There were five individuals there, all dressed in white
armor. They were aiming some sort of weapons at her. She dropped everything
she was holding, and walked up to them. “Freeze!” one of them shouted.

Crusher froze. “I am Doctor Beverly Crusher-”
“This must be the sickbay,” the same individual commented. The person
pointed at two of the others. “You two, search this facility. We’ll go and try to
find their command center.”
“Yes, sir,” the two people assigned to sickbay acknowledged. The three
others went off to find the bridge. The remaining two entered sickbay and pulled
the doors shut.

Three other armored people came into the main area of sickbay, this time
from the main entrance. They were leading all the other medical personnel into
the area with weapons pointed at their backs.
“Why are you doing this?” Crusher asked.
“You, quiet!” one of the orginals shouted. The person put his or hers
weapon up against Crusher’s back.
Crusher thought all of their captors were men. They all had men’s voices,
anyway. She could be wrong, though. Who knew with these aliens? And their
voices sounded like they were going through a speaker; they probably were, with
that armor on and all.
“There are no more, sir,” one of them reported.
“Scout this facility for medical technologies the Empire can use,” the
person who told Crusher to be quiet said. He pointed at Jumption on the
diagnostic bed. “Kill him.”
Jumption watched with horror as one of the armored men approached
him. The armored man aimed the front of his weapon at Jumption’s forhead, and
fired. A hot red bolt blasted Jumption’s head apart. Blood splattered everywhere
within a one meter diameter. Jumption’s exposed brain was charred black.
Crusher was disgusted by the sight.
“He wasn’t a threat to you!” Crusher shouted. “Why did you do that!?”
The person who appeared to be their leader aimed his blaster-weapon at
Crusher. “Doctor, if you do not cooperate, you will die too.” Just then, the
door to the main area of sickbay was shoved open. Picard, Riker and Troi were
standing there. They surveyed the room. “Jean-Luc, run!” Crusher shouted.
Picard got an alarmed expression on his face, as did Riker. Troi just had a
painful expression on her face. Picard motioned down the corridor, and made a
run for it. Riker took a firm hold of Troi’s hand, and began running as well.
“Hey!” the leader shouted. He raised his weapon and fired purple energy
spheres out into the corridor. No use. They were already at least five meters
distant, with Troi slowing them down. The captor leader ran out into the corridor
and fired several more shots. He ran out of view, then returned, hauling Troi into
sickbay. He shoved the door shut. Then, he aimed his blaster at Troi’s forhead.
“You don’t want to kill her!” Crusher shouted. “She is quite valuable.”
The leader paused. “How valuable?”
“She is an empath, meaning that she can sense emotions. She is an
excellent lie detector. Also, in certain instances, she can sense thoughts as well.”
The leader considered this. “If what you say is true, she can be quite
valuable indeed. However, if you’re lying, I promise you, both of you will regret
it before you die.” He withdrew his blaster, and let Troi fall to the floor. “Let her
lay.”
Crusher watched in despair as the troopers began scouting sickbay.
Picard and Riker walked towards the weaponry. Riker was sulking over
the death of Troi.
“She’s not dead, Will,” Picard said. “I saw her breathing.” Commander
Riker was not convinced. “But what if that weapon was set to a slow, torturous
death setting…”
Picard shook his head. “You’re only making yourself worse by doing this,
Number One. Now, we have to get those raiders off the Enterprise. We’re going
to have to have phasers to do that.”
“I know, sir,” Riker replied. “It’s just that-”
“Enough, Commander,” Picard said. “We’ve reached the weaponry.” He
put his finger on the door opener, and the door slid open. “Let’s go.” Picard
and Riker strode into the weaponry and got type three phasers, which were phaser
rifles. They weren’t even standard equipment on Federation starships until the
encounter with the Borg. Now, they were considered a necessity. They set their
phaser rifles to setting five, which was probably the equilavent to heavy stun to
the armored people. Then, Picard and Riker exited the weaponry.
“We have to try to restore power,” Riker said. “Then we’ll be in a far
better position to get rid of the raiders.”
“Agreed,” Picard said. “Let’s get to Engineering.”

Geordi La Forge peered into the control room for the fusion reactor.
Good. No invaders. “All clear.”
Barclay rushed into the control room, and Geordi followed. They pushed
the door shut, and made their way for the master power console. This one was
operational, because it had an independent power source.
Geordi examined the readouts. “It doesn’t look like the fusion reactor is
damaged; it was the result of transferring all power to the shields. When that last
shock wave hit us, the reactor just shut down to avoid overloading. All we have
to do is reinitialize it.”
“That will take over three hours,” Barclay reminded Geordi. “The
sooner, the better,” Geordi responded. “Let’s get started.”
Worf looked towards where the sound has come from. The floor was
creaking. That was a near impossibility on a Federation starship. “Why is the
floor creaking?”
“I’m not sure,” Ensign Crusher answered. He leaned over the spot where
the sound was most pronounced. “Does anybody have a tricorder?” “I do,”
Lieutenant McKenzie said. She gave Crusher a tricorder. Crusher flipped the
tricorder open and began taking readings. “There’s some sort of laser beam trying
to cut through the deck.”
“What!?” Worf bellowed. He leaned over Crusher, in the very center of
the bridge. “Who is trying to cut through?”
Before Crusher could answer, the deck gave way. Crusher fell to the deck
below, and was knocked unconscious. Worf heard a loud crack, and knew some
bones were broken. The boy could survive that, though. There was a more
immediate problem: three white armored people were standing just under the
gaping hole. They were aiming weapons at Worf. Worf aimed his own phaser at
the assailants, set it to eight, and fired on wide beam setting. The three people
fell to the floor, their armor blackened to some extent.
“Sir,” McKenzie said, “I recognize them.”
Worf looked at McKenzie. “I do not. What are they?” McKenzie got
an embarrassed expression on her face. “I’m just so embarrassed to be saying this,
but… they look just like stormtroopers from the Star Wars films of the late
twentieth century.”
Worf looked at McKenzie with puzzlement. “Are you saying that they
aren’t real, but fanstasy?”
“They must be real,” McKenzie said, pointing at them. “They’re there,
aren’t they?”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Worf said. He peered down at the
“stormtroopers.” They might have been Garthusians who had just dressed up like
stormtroopers to fool people. Who knew what information they downloaded
from the Enterprise computers?
“I sure wish Data was alive and well,” McKenzie said, looking at Data’s
still form on the floor.
“We cannot spend time dwelling on that, Lieutenant. We must get to the
bottom of this, with or without Data.” Worf knew that the height between the
deck floor and ceiling was seven feet… he could jump down to deck two without
injury if he judged it right. It would be difficult in the darkness, but he could do
it. “I will go down to deck two to investigate. You have the bridge, Lieutenant
McKenzie.”
“Yes, sir,” McKenzie acknowledged nervously.
Worf judged the angle of his fall for a moment, then jumped down. He
felt his feet land firmly against the floor of deck two. He had no injuries. He
looked at Crusher’s unconscious form. He saw that the tricorder the boy was
holding was crushed under Crusher’s body. He looked up at the large hole. “I
need another tricorder.”
Worf saw McKenzie look around the bridge with a questioning glance.
Then, a tricorder flew into her hand. She, in turn, tossed it to Worf. “Thank
you.” Worf looked around him. He couldn’t make out any signifcant details
besides the debris from the ceiling and black marks all over the walls. Worf
scanned the area with his tricorder. The energy signatures in the scorch marks
and the debris were consistant with a type of laser. The Garthusians used
disruptors; but this might still be another part of the deception.
Worf heard a low sound down the corridor. He couldn’t make out what it
was. It came from his right. Worf began walking towards the source. “I
believe the command center has been located,” Worf heard a voice say. It was
difficult to hear at this distance, though. “After that, contact was lost with the
team.”
“Send another larger, more well-armed team,” another voice said. “They
should-”
The voices were becoming more pronounced. Worf came upon the
stormtroopers almost immediately after that. They looked at him in surprise.
“What in the Empire is that?” the first voice asked.
Worf didn’t give them time to think about it. He fired his phaser, same
settings as before. The troops fell to the deck, their armor blackened. Worf bent
over them and removed one of the helmets. He ran a tricorder scan on it. The
helmet was equipped with some sort of communications system, which allowed
the wearer to communicate with other communication systems, and to
communicate with people outside their armor. It was made of a compound
neither Worf nor the tricorder was familiar with.
“There it is!” a voice shouted from behind him.
Worf whirled around and raised his phaser. Three stormtroopers were
standing there, lasers aimed at him. Worf fired. The troops fell to the deck.
“Stupid fool,” a voice from the back said.
Before Worf could turn around, he felt a laser beam hit his back. He fell
to the deck, consciousness escaping him.

Captain Picard peered into Engineering from the port main entrance. The
stormtroopers didn’t know they were there.
“You’re sure these are Star Wars people?” Riker whispered into Picard’s
ear.
“Pretty sure,” Picard whispered back. He raised his phaser rifle, aimed at
the two stormtroopers he could get a clear shot at, and fired on setting ten. They
fell to the deck with slightly blackened and melted armor.
“Over there!” one of the five remaining stormtroopers shouted. He
pointed in Picard’s direction.
Riker raised his phaser rifle, but not before a wide beam phaser blast from
Main Engineering hit three of the stormtroopers. They fell to the deck. The two
others whirled around to face the direction the beam had come from, and opened
fire, letting loose a fury a red little bolts. Someone screamed in agony.
Picard took them out with his phaser rifle, and then walked into Main
Engineering, gesturing Riker to follow. He did so.
What they saw was a war zone. Scorch marks covered the walls. Dead or
dying engineering personnel were lying all over the deck. Several consoles were
blown apart.
An engineer approached Picard. She had the pips of a full lieutenant.
“Are they the Garthusians, sir?” she asked, pointing at the bodies of the
stormtroopers.
“I don’t think so, Lieutenant,” Picard answered. “I believe they are
stormtroopers from Star Wars.”
“Star Wars, Captain?”
“A series of movies that came out in the late twentieth and early
twenty-first centuries, set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.” The
lieutenant developed a deep frown. “Captain… what is a movie?” Picard
scowled. Had this engineer no appreciation of the past? “If and when the power
comes back on-line and the computers are operational, you can do some much
needed research, Lieutenant. For now, though, your priority is to get Engineering
back in working order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And where is Commander La Forge?”
The lieutenant paused a moment. “Commander La Forge and Lieutenant
Barclay went to the fusion reactor control room, sir.”
“Very well, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”
She whirled around instantly and began walking towards the
matter-antimatter reactor. That’s when ten stormtroopers darted into Main
Engineering from the starboard entrance and began shooting.

Lieutenant Worf tried to open his eyes. He couldn’t. Worf struggled to sit
up. He couldn’t. Worf felt no restraining devices attached to him; the only
logical conclusion was that his nervous system had been damaged somehow. But
then how could he be breathing? Worf concluded that only voluntary actions
were affected.
“He is awake,” Worf heard a low, scratchy voice say.
“Excellent, Cadet,” another voice said. It had an air of command to it.
“Now… we shall begin.”
Worf wondered for an instant what was going to begin. He didn’t have to
wonder long.
“Who are you?” the commander’s voice asked.
Worf didn’t attempt to speak. He knew that he couldn’t move voluntarily
The commander had to know that, too; it must have been an excuse to torture
him.
“Answer!” the commander yelled.
Worf tried to talk this time. He succeeded. “Or what?” The
commander laughed. “Explain it to him.”
Worf felt a surge of pain all throughout his body. It was equilavent to that
caused by a Klingon painstick. “Is that the best you can do?” “That was the
lowest setting,” the commander said dangerously. “Now… who are you?”
Worf didn’t reply.
The commander gave an exasperated sigh. “This one will be difficult.
Cadet, raise the setting until he starts talking.” The commander paused a
moment. “You should have reconsidered, alien.”
“I will never yield.”
“You have no idea how many times we’ve heard that,” the commander
snarled. “Begin!”
“I do not fear pain,” Worf said as shocking waves of pain consumed his
body.

Captain Kalome walked up to his first officer. “What is it?” “Lord
Vader will be arriving tomorrow to see the Empire’s prize,” Commander Jafar
reported. “He wants the alien ship completely in the Empire’s hands by then.”
Kalome cursed under his breath. “Can you report on our progress?”
Jafar gave a sigh. “We do have some of their ship under our control, sir.
Most of it is in the hands of the enemy, though. They have proved to be far
tougher than we realized. The fact that they’re years, if not centuries, ahead of us
in technology doesn’t help either.”
Kalome considered that for a moment. They had an infinitesimal chance
of capturing the entire alien ship in time. Unless… “Commander, do we have any
control of their crucial areas?”
“We have their sickbay, sir. We have a team of ten stormtroopers trying
to seize their engineering section now. The first team sent to their engineering
section was decimated; the second one is trying now.” “Inform our people
aboard the alien ship of Lord Vader’s imminent arrival. They know what will
happen if they don’t complete our task on time.” “As do we all,” Jafar
commented. He set about his task.

CHAPTER TWO

Luke Skywalker looked at Princess Leia closely. “An alien ship?” “Yes,”
she said worriedly. “It is years above anything in this galaxy.”
Luke considered the implications. “It came from outside the galaxy? The
nearest galaxy is over two hundred thousand parsecs away… they must be pretty
fast.”
“More than pretty fast, kid,” Han Solo said, coming into the room. He was
dressed in heavy clothing, suggesting he’d been outside recently. “It would take
the Falcon more than a thousand years to get from there to here.”
“And they did it in less than a day, according to reports,” Leia said. “They
just suddenly appeared there. An Imperial Star Destroyer was lucky enough to be
nearby.”
Solo grunted. “And you know what they’re doing.”
“Well, if the aliens are as technologically advanced as you say, they most
certainly won’t need our help,” Luke commented.
“They probably won’t,” Leia said. “But if we at least try, the aliens might
help us against the Empire.”
“The Falcon’s ready to go, your highnessness,” Solo said. Leia got a
puzzled look on her face. “Is that possible?” Solo got a mildly angry look
on his face. “You want to get there as fast as poss-”
“I was only kidding,” Leia said. “We must leave as soon as we possibly
can.”

Lieutenant McKenzie fired her phaser through the gaping hole.
Stormtroopers had been trying to get to the bridge for an hour now. This was her
third phaser; the others had been drained of their energy cells. “They’re
nothing if not persistant,” Ensign Hines remarked. He fired his own phaser down
the hole.
“Be careful not to hit Wesley,” McKenzie said.
“Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Hines asked.
“He could have something more serious than a few broken bones,”
McKenzie answered.
“Yeah, well, that deck’s going to give way any minute now. Phaser beams
on setting eight have been hitting the deck flooring a lot more than your
stormtroopers.”
“We can’t let them take the bridge.”
“The bridge is useless right now.”
“But if the power is restored while they have the bridge-” “I have an
idea. Let’s set up five phasers around the hole, and set them to fire continuously
at setting five. That would make the hole impossible to go through until the
phasers are dry.”
McKenzie considered that idea. “It could work. But what about Data?”
“Data is dead,” Hines said matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing we can do
for him.”
McKenzie was getting infuriated with Hines. She spoke in an exasperated
tone. “All right, what about Wesley?”
“He’ll be dead anyway if that deck collapses.” Hines turned his attention
to the hole. He saw a stormtrooper head sticking out. “Oh crap!” He fired his
phaser at the stormtrooper. The trooper fell to the deck below. “As I was saying,
he’ll die anyway if we keep this up.” “And the good doctor will kill us!”
McKenzie said as she picked off another stormtrooper.
“You exaggerate,” Hines said.
McKenzie paused a moment, thinking. “What if I just go down there and
get Wesley, while the rest of you evacuate the bridge?”
Hines shook his head. “You could never do it alone. I’ll go with you.”
“Very well, Ensign.” McKenzie gestured towards the accesses to the
Jeffries tubes. “Five of you, over here with your phasers. The rest of you, in the
Jeffries tubes.”
Five crewmembers came up to her and handed her their phasers. Then, all
of the bridge crew, except McKenzie and Hines and the five crewmembers,
entered the Jeffries tubes.
“Let’s do it,” McKenzie said. She gave two phasers to Hines. She then set
up the three phasers she kept to positions where they could fire and not destroy
any of the other phasers. Hines did the same with his two. Then, they both set
the phasers to setting five and to fire until drained She turned to the
crewmembers. “Once we’re down there, press the triggers to those phasers. Then
get out of here.”
The crewmembers nodded. McKenzie jumped down the hole, followed
by Hines. Five stormtroopers were down there. They took the stormtroopers out
quickly. The sound of phasers firing sounded from the bridge. McKenzie looked
up. Five phaser beams were visible above the hole.
McKenzie looked down at Wesley. He was still unconscious, with a
crushed tricorder beneath him. Dried blood was visible on his uniform sleeves.
“I wonder if we can move him,” Hines said.
McKenzie flashed Hines a sharp look. “Now you think about that!” She
picked off three stormtroopers coming down the corridor. “You’d better be glad I
have my tricorder.” She flipped it open, and scanned Wesley. “He has a bunch of
broken bones, and a severe concussion. We should be able to move him.”

Hines bent down to pick up Wesley’s left side. “You take the right side”
McKenzie bent down and picked up Wesley’s right side. “All right… let’s
go.”
They stood up, and struggled to haul Wesley down the corridor to the
nearest Jeffries tube access. At the same time, stormtroopers were coming at
them left and right. McKenzie and Hines somehow shot all the stormtroopers
with their phasers, and made it to the Jeffries tube access. Hines ripped the
access panel off the wall, and climbed inside the tube. Hines lifted Wesley
into the tube, and began to pull him inside. McKenzie phasered the stormtroopers
while Hines struggled with his task. She nervously glanced at the access. “Can
you hurry it up?” she asked as she fired her phaser yet again.
“I’m trying not to injure the boy!” Hines cried, with more than a little
exasperation. “Do you want to take over?”
McKenzie sighed. “No, Ensign.”
The mention of rank shut Hines up. He finally got Wesley completely into
the Jeffries tube, and began pulling him deeper inside. “You can enter,
Lieutenant.”
McKenzie phasered another stormtrooper as she climbed inside the
Jeffries tube. She reached for the access panel, but a hot red blaster bolt struck
her hand. She cried out in pain as she aimed her phaser at her attacker with her
other hand. The stormtrooper advanced, and leveled his blaster at McKenzie’s
head. McKenzie pressed the phaser trigger.
Nothing happened. The phaser was dead. “Damn!” McKenzie cursed
loudly. She tossed the useless phaser at the stormtrooper. She took advantage of
the trooper’s confusion to grab the access panel and slam it into place. She keyed
in the locking code into the control pad next to the accessway.
“You know that they’ll blast that panel away,” Hines said from down the
tube. He was already ten feet away.
“It will take them a while,” McKenzie replied. “Don’t spend time dwelling
on that. We need to move! Let’s get to sickbay!”
“Aye-aye, sir,” Hines said, and began pulling Wesley down the Jeffries
tube again.

Captain Picard leapt behind the master status display table. The red
blaster bolts sailed over his head and hit the wall, destroying several status panels.
Picard heard screams of pain sound throughout Engineering. Among the screams
was Commander Riker’s. “Oh no…”
Riker dropped beside Picard. He had a rather large wound on his left
shoulder. The skin was severely burned, but fortunately, there was no bleeding.
“I’d hate to be hit in the head with one of those things…” Picard looked up as a
blaster bolt hit the display table. Sparks showered all around him. “Can you
move your left arm?”
Riker moved his left arm around a little bit. “Yes, sir. Enough to aim,
anyway.”
Picard nodded. He readied his phaser rifle, and rose just above the table.
He took out about four stormtroopers with a wide beam phaser blast, and returned
to the deck. Several blaster bolts sailed over his head. Riker readied his
phaser, and rose just above the table. He wildly fired in the stormtroopers general
direction. He saw one go down before he was forced back down to the deck.
Picard rose up again, and began firing his phaser rifle madly at the
stormtroopers. Three wide phaser beams cut through the air in only five seconds.
The stormtroopers fell to the deck before they could even think about firing their
blasters.
“Wow,” Riker commented as he stood up. He looked at the bodies of the
stormtroopers. “Well done, Captain.”
Picard surveyed Engineering. Ten more people were dead. The master
status display table was in ruins. Among the dead was the female lieutenant
Picard had conversed with earlier.
Commander Riker was examining the bodies of the dead stormtroopers.
One of them was twitching his arms and legs a little. Riker didn’t have a
tricorder. “I need a tricorder.”
An engineering ensign handed Riker a tricorder. Riker flipped it open and
scanned the body of the twitching stormtrooper. He was getting faint life
readings. “Sir, this one’s alive.”
Picard walked up beside Riker. He looked at the twitching stormtrooper.
“Status?”
Riker checked the tricorder screen. “He is in critical condition. His
nervous system is damaged. His eyes are useless. I would need a medical
tricorder for a more detailed analysis.”
Picard looked at his first officer. “The analysis we have is enough to tell
he won’t last an hour without proper treatment in sickbay.” Riker looked
back at his captain. He got a puzzled frown on his face. “Captain… why would
we want to keep him alive? Especially if we have our own crew to treat.”
“Because an interrogation might prove useful, Number One. Also, we
need to show this galaxy that we aren’t bloodthirsty barbarians.” Riker nodded.
“I understand, sir. Although… we can’t get him to sickbay within the hour, and
even if we can, sickbay is almost useless without power.”
Picard knew that. “I know.” He looked back towards the engineering
personnel scrambling about. “How much longer?”
The same engineering ensign who gave Riker the tricorder replied.
“Captain, we have no way of knowing what kind of damage was done to the
fusion reactor and the EPS systems. It would take days, weeks maybe.” Picard
scowled. “We don’t have that kind of time.” He stepped out into the area beside
the status display monitor. He stared at the ruins. “We need to get power
restored before then.”
The ensign shrugged. “Chief Engineer La Forge will find a way. I know
he will.”
Picard looked at the ensign and began to reply. That’s when the lights
came on.

Barclay smiled at Geordi. “We did it, sir!”
Geordi got a little smile as well. “We’re still heavily damaged, Reg. Don’t
start celebrating yet.” He moved towards status displays that had just came
on-line. It showed heavy damage throughout the ship. The shields were shot, the
weapons were almost useless, and the warp drive was barely worthy of the name.
“Just look.”
Barclay looked at the displays and frowned. “This will take a while.”
“Yeah, and we’ve got the invaders running throughout the ship,” Geordi
replied. “We need to get to Engineering. Let’s move.”

Doctor Crusher looked at the confusion in sickbay. The lights coming on
was certainly a surprise. She decided to take advantage of it. Beverly
knocked the nearest trooper to the ground. She grabbed the confused troop’s
weapon and shot him with it. He slumped to the ground. “Stop where you are!”
a male voice commanded. Beverly whirled towards the speaker. It was a trooper
who had a blaster pointed at her. “Give me your weapon!”
Beverly shrugged. “If you think that’s best.” She began to move her
blaster towards the trooper. “Here you go.”
The trooper reached for the weapon. Just before he could touch it,
however, Beverly’s finger squeezed the trigger. Two hot red laser bolts smashed
against the trooper’s chest. He fell to the deck.
“Get her!” another male voice cried. Then, all of the troopers began firing
their blasters at her. She ducked for cover behind a diagnostic bed She tapped
her commbadge. “Crusher to any transporter room.” No response.
Beverly looked quickly to her right when she heard a thump next to her.
Deanna Troi had somehow managed to crawl next to her. She had a pained
expression on her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she had a distant look.

“It’s okay,” Beverly reassured Troi. “Everything will be all right.” She
didn’t believe her own words for a second.
“No, it’s not,” Troi replied weakly, and with more than a note of sadness.
“It’s terrible, Beverly…” She broke out in tears.
Beverly looked on with concern. “Deanna, don’t cry. We’ll get out of this.
Don’t worry.”
Troi looked back at the doctor. “It’s not about that. It’s… it’s…”

Beverly could tell Troi was scrambling for words. Meanwhile, a scream
arose from somewhere in the troopers’ direction.
“We will execute them one at a time,” one of the troopers said. “The first
after this one will be the doctor.”
Beverly leapt to her feet. She aimed in the troopers’ general direction, and
fired. Hot red laser bolts flew from her blaster as three troopers fell to the deck.
The remaining ten all fired their blasters at her. She fell to the deck, laser bolts
flying over her head.
Then, she got an idea. “Crusher to Picard. I am going to activate the
corbomite device. Advise all personnel to stay away from sickbay. I repeat,
advise all personnel to stay away from sickbay.”
“Picard here. Doctor, what is going on?”
“I can’t tell you, Jean-Luc. Good-bye. Crusher out.” Troi looked at
Beverly in wide-eyed horror as Beverly leapt to her feet. Beverly gave her a
reassuring smile, and looked at the troopers. They were standing there, appearing
unsure as to what they were going to do. “We have orders to evacuate the
facility,” the new leader said. “Let’s move out.”
The troopers ran for the exit doors. The doors slid open, and then slid
shut as they left. Beverly smiled at Troi as she tapped her commbadge. “Crusher
to Picard.”
“Picard here. Beverly, what the devil are you doing? Let me assume it
has something to do with the stormtroopers in sickbay.”
“There used to be ‘stomtroopers,’ yes,” Beverly said. “They ran when I
told you over the comm about the corbomite device.”
“Good work, Doctor. Now, there are a lot of injured people who need
your help. I’d recommend you attend to them. Picard out.”
Beverly helped Troi to her feet. “Some malocantrine will take care of the
pain.” She found a medical kit, opened it, got out a hypospray that had the
malocantrine, and administered it. “Some rest wouldn’t hurt either.”
Troi looked at the doctor with gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor. But I think
I’d better get to the bridge.”
“Have it your way. Just don’t complain to me when you’re coming in here
with a headache.”
“I won’t,” Troi promised. She left sickbay, walking slowly.
Captain Picard looked at his first officer sternly. “You’re going to sickbay,
Commander.”
“But sir-” Riker began.
“That’s an order.”
Riker looked at the captain. “Yes, sir.” He strode towards the
Engineering starboard turbolift.
Picard turned his gaze towards the live stormtrooper. He tapped his
commbadge. “Picard to transporter room.”
No response.
Geordi La Forge and Reginald Barclay strode into Main Engineering.
They looked tired. Geordi immediately ran to check the master status display
Only it was in ruins. “What happened to my department!?”
“Stormtroopers tried to get in,” Picard replied. “It was practically a war zone.”
Geordi looked all around Engineering. Scorch marks were all over the
walls. Dead bodies were everywhere. Consoles had been blown apart. “Man,
aren’t we lucky the matter-antimatter reactor wasn’t damaged…” He looked down
at the stormtroopers on the deck. “One of them is alive, by the way,” he said,
pointing at the correct stormtrooper.
“We know, Mr. La Forge,” Picard said. “However, none of the transporter
rooms are manned, and there are other things that need power…” “Right on,
Captain,” Geordi said. “Now, Captain, if you’ll excuse me.” He pointed at the
wall monitor with the large schematic of the Enterprise.
“Oh, right.” Picard strode towards the turbolift. “I want hourly progress
reports.”
“Yes, sir,” Geordi said.
Picard entered the turbolift. “Sickbay.”

Captain Kalome stared at the alien vessel in the window. It had just
powered up. That was an extremely bad sign, considering that his troops hadn’t
captured the ship yet. He looked angrily at Commander Jafar. “Order all of our
troops to retreat!”
“What about Lord Vader?” Jafar asked calmly. “He will be most
displeased.”
Kalome stared at Jafar in anger. “You self-interested opportunist, I will
find some way to blame this on you…”
Jafar looked surprised. “Me? Self-interested? I assure you, not at all…”
Kalome slapped Jafar. The crew members bustling around them on the
bridge all stopped and stared. That was a most improper gesture in such a setting.
“Order the troops to retreat, Commander. If you do not, I will have you executed
for causing the needless deaths of dozens of fine Imperial men.”
Jafar got a scared expression on his face. “Yes, sir. And what about the
prisoners?”
“We will keep them. Now, carry out your orders Commander!” Jafar
backed off. “Yes, sir.” He raced to his station.
Troi walked into the turbolift. She had been in her quarters before,
relaxing. She knew that this was no time for that sort of thing, but she decided to
do what Beverly said. Now, she felt ready to go to the bridge. “Bridge.”
The turbolift began to move. The soft humming of the ship soothed her.
It was far better than the quietness heard earlier when the power was off-line.
Before she knew it, the turbolift doors slid open. Troi walked out into the
bridge. What she saw was quite a shock. No Starfleet personnel were present.
There was a large gaping hole in the center of the bridge. Worst of all, about a
dozen invaders occupied the room.
“We have orders to retreat,” one of them said, then noticed Troi. “Kill
her.”
Another invader raised his blaster, and took aim at Troi. She tapped her
commbadge. “Troi to Picard, the invaders have the bridge. I repeat, invaders
have the bridge.”
Troi looked on with horror as the blaster was leveled with her. She
ducked behind the tactical console.
“Then you have a duty to destroy the bridge,” came Picard’s reply. It was
louder than normal, suggesting Picard wanted the invaders to hear it. Troi’s
thoughts went wild. There was nothing in Starfleet regulations about destroying
the bridge in case of enemy capture. The solution was to transfer control to
Engineering. “Sir, I…”
The invaders began to jump down the gaping hole. Before long, Troi was
the only one in the bridge.
“I want you to examine the bridge,” Picard said. “Report anything out of
the ordinary. Picard out.”
Troi looked around the bridge. There were five phasers at positions
around the hole in the middle of the bridge. Troi walked up to them, then bent
over to examine them. They had been drained of their power cells, suggesting
heavy use. As a result of being drained, none of the indicators were lit.
Troi stood back up, and continued with her examination. Nothing else
was out of the ordinary, but something tugged at Troi’s mind. Data’s body is
gone, she realized after a minute. It was nowhere to be found. Troi slapped her
commbadge. “Troi to Picard. Data’s body is missing.”
There was a long silence at the other end. “Is he anywhere on the ship?”
“I forgot to check.” Troi paused. “Computer, locate Lieutenant
Commander Data’s commbadge.”
“Lieutenant Commander Data’s commbadge is not aboard the Enterprise,”
the computer reported.
“When did it leave?”
“Unknown.”
Picard’s voice came from the commbadge. “The computer must have been
unoperational when the Imperials took Data.”
Troi got a puzzled look on her face. “The Imperials?” “That’s what
the people who invaded our ship are called, Counselor. Now, I’m coming up to
the bridge. Picard out.”

Doctor Beverly Crusher watched Picard exit sickbay. She then turned
back to Commander Riker. “That concussion is getting better, Will, but you need
rest! That laser wound doesn’t help matters.”
“I thought you fixed it,” Riker commented.
“The nerves in your arm were damaged. I gave them something to repair
them in a day or two, but rest will speed the process up!”
Riker raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.” He exited sickbay. Beverly didn’t
bother putting her medical utensils away, since more casualaties were coming
into sickbay every minute.

The main doors to sickbay slid open. Lieutenant McKenzie and Ensign
Hines were standing there, tugging at something on the floor. Beverly rushed up
to them. She glanced at what they were tugging. Wesley! “He was hurt when
part of the bridge deck collapsed,” McKenzie said, noting the doctor’s expression.
Beverly quickly flipped open her medical tricorder. Her son had a severe
concussion, with all of the limbs broken. He had five broken ribs. She motioned
for a nurse to help her.
Nurse Alyssa Ogawa rushed up to the doctor. She looked down at
Wesley. “Yes, Doctor?” she asked nervously.
“We need to get Wesley up onto a diagnostic bed, stat!” Beverly answered
Ogawa walked away from Beverly. When she returned, she had an
anti-grav medical gurney in tow. Both Ogawa and Beverly had to lift Wesley
onto the gurney.
“Let’s move!” Beverly shouted. She then looked at Hines and McKenzie.
“Attend to your duties.”
Both Hines and McKenzie nodded, and exited sickbay.

Captain Picard looked as the turbolift doors opened. Commander Riker
entered the bridge. The doors slid shut behind him. His face lit up in a
combination of grinning and crying when he saw Troi. “I thought you had died.”
Troi grinned at Riker. “I’m not.” She walked up to Riker and hugged him.
Riker hugged her back.
“Lieutenant Worf is missing, too,” Picard said after Riker and Troi were
done. “A total of one hundred crew members are either dead or missing.”
Riker looked somber. He looked back at the main viewer. It wasn’t
showing anything. He got a quizzical expression on his face.
“Damaged in the impact,” Picard said, answering Riker’s unspoken
question. “Geordi hasn’t been able to spare anyone to come up and fix it yet.”
Riker stared at the gaping hole in the center of the bridge. “That must’ve
taken a while.”
“It probably did,” Picard said.
The turbolift doors slid open again. Ensign Hines and Lieutenant
McKenzie strode into the bridge, the turbolift doors closing behind them.
McKenzie immediately sat down at the Operations station. Hines took the helm
“I’ll take tactical for now,” Riker said. He walked to the aft section of the
bridge and stood at the console.
Picard sat in the command chair. “Report.”
McKenzie checked the Ops console. “Internal sensors are kind of fuzzy..
I’d say that about fifty stormtroopers are left aboard the Enterprise”
“Lock them all in force fields,” Picard ordered.
“Not enough power, sir.”
Picard paused. “Where are they going?”
“The shuttlebays, sir.”
“They must be evacuating… Lieutenant, shut down life-support in the
shuttlebays.”
McKenzie paused for a moment. She ran a check for Starfleet personnel
in the shuttlebays. When the readouts reported negative, she did as she was told.
“Life-support disengaged.”
Picard sat there, thinking. “On second thought, shut down all power to the
shuttlebays.”
McKenzie did so. “Done.”
“Transfer that power to the shields.”
This time, Riker answered. “Power transfer complete. Partial
navigational shields are raised.” Then, he got a concerned look on his face.
“Vessels leaving shuttlebays, sir. Heading for a large ship off our port bow.”
Picard got out of the command chair and walked to the tactical station.
He looked over Riker’s shoulder. Several craft the size of Ferengi shuttlepods
were on a course for a vessel larger than the Enterprise. It was shaped like an
arrowhead, and had a large protusion on top. It was bristling with laser weapons
and torpedo launchers. Picard recognized it immediately. It was an Imperial Star
Destroyer. “Hail the mothership on all known frequencies.”
Picard remained at his spot as Riker complied. “No response, sir.”
“Open a channel.” Picard paused. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the
United Space Ship Enterprise, representing the United Federation of Planets.
Imperial vessel, I advise you to withdraw immediately.” The speakers came to
life. “This is Captain Kalome of the Galactic Empire. How do you know who we
are?”
“That is irrelevant,” Picard stated. “What matters is that we know who
you are and what you are doing, and if you do not withdraw immediately, we will
destroy you.”
There was a pause at the other end. “We know you are heavily damaged,
Picard. You cannot survive in a battle. Now, surrender your ship, or I will kill
our prisoners one by one until you cooperate.”
Picard considered that. He glanced at the tactical console. One phaser
bank had fifteen percent power. He had Riker mute the channel and walked up to
McKenzie. “Do we have transporters?”
“No, sir.”
Picard cursed under his breath. “Number One-”
“Something’s coming out of warp on our starboard bow!” Riker reported.
Picard rushed back up to tactical. He looked at the specs of the
newcomer. It was the Millenium Falcon. “Hail the approaching ship,
Commander!”
Riker touched several buttons on the tactical console. “They’re responding
on audio.”
Picard nodded as the speakers crackled. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard
of the United Space Ship Enterprise, representing the United Federation of
Planets. Millenium Falcon, we come in peace.”
There was a silence on the other end. Then, “Captain Picard, this is
Captain Han Solo. We are aware that you’re in some distress.” “Quite right.
Our weapons systems are inoperative, and the Imperials are holding one hundred
prisoners aboard their Star Destroyer.” The speakers crackled again. “Ah,
the infamous Millenium Falcon,” came Kalome’s voice. “Your capture will be
most noteworthy, Solo.” “It would be,” Picard replied. “But not today.”
McKenzie suddenly whirled around to face Picard. She had a smile on
her face.
Picard ordered Riker to mute the channel. “Lieutenant, what is it?”
“We have additional power, sir,” McKenzie said excitedly. “And phaser
banks one through four are operational.”
Picard felt like grinning himself, but kept himself under control. “Arm
those phaser banks, Number One!”
Riker did grin. “Yes, sir!” He punched several commands into the
tactical console. “Phasers are on-line, waiting to fire at your command.” Picard
sat down in the command chair. “Channel open.” He paused. “Captain Kalome,
I advise you to release the prisoners.”
Kalome’s voice sounded fairly amused. “And if I don’t?” This time,
Picard let a small smile tug at his lips. “Fire one, Commander.”
“Phaser bank one firing,” Riker replied. He punched at the tactical
console eagerly. The sound of the phaser’s whine sounded throughout the ship.
“Fire two.”
“Phaser bank two firing, sir.”
“Fire three.”
“Phaser bank three firing, sir.”
“Fire four.”
“Phaser bank four firing, sir.”
Picard waited for Kalome’s response. He had no doubt that the phaser
blasts severely damaged the Star Destroyer.
“They are retreating, Captain,” Riker said happily. “Going into warp.”
Picard sighed. “Lieutenant McKenzie, is there enough power for warp
travel?”
McKenzie shook her head. “Even if there were, the warp drive is
damaged”
“Ah, Captain Picard?” Solo said over the comm. “Nice shooting.” “Thank
you, Captain. Now, we must wait here while repairs are completed You’re
welcome to come aboard while they are underway.” “Deal, Captain
Picard.” There was a pause. “Exactly how do we get aboard your ship?”
Picard looked at Riker. “Number One, relay the Millenium Falcon the
docking instructions for airlock one.”
Riker nodded. “Aye, sir.”

“Captain Solo, if you’ll excuse me. Picard out.”

“Beginning docking procedure, sir,” Riker reported.
“Very well.” Picard got out of the command chair. “Lieutenant
McKenzie, work on getting the bridge fully staffed again.” He walked towards
the aft turbolift. “Commander Riker and Counselor Troi, you’re with me.”
“Yes, sir,” both Riker and Troi said as they followed Picard into the
turbolift.

CHAPTER THREE

Captain Han Solo stepped through the airlock and onto the Enterprise.
Ravages of battle were evident. There was a huge scorch mark on the right wall.
Damaged circuity was showing. Lighting on the walls flashed red.
“I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard,” a man said as he approached from the
left. Two other people, a man and woman, were with him.
“I am Captain Han Solo,” Solo said. He looked behind him. Luke
Skywalker, Princess Leia, and Chewbacca were behind him. The droids were
mysteriously absent. “Threepio said that he was coming, along with Artoo.”
“We’re coming, Captain!” Solo heard Threepio say from the Falcon.
Moments later, Threepio and Artoo were visible in the airlock. “I had to work on
consoling Artoo here. He is scared for some completely irrational reason.”
Artoo gave a series of high squeals at that remark.
“You have nothing to fear, Artoo,” Threepio said, exasperated. “Now,
you’re being impolite.”

Artoo gave three low beeps.
Threepio shook his head. “Don’t use such language, especially around
these aliens!” He indicated Picard and company.
Artoo gave several sad sounding sounds.
“Well, that’s better.”
Picard and company were smiling. “This is the first officer of the
Enterprise, Commander William Riker,” Picard said, pointing to his right. “And
the ship’s head counselor, Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi.” He pointed to
the left at the woman.
Solo smiled, at the woman. She was gorgeous. “Pleased to meet you.”
Leia sighed. “I am Princess Leia Organa.” She stepped forward. “Captain
Picard, I represent the Rebellion, a group of people who are trying to overthrow
the Galactic Empire’s harsh rule. We could use your help.” Picard looked
at Leia. “We know. Perhaps we should go to the observation lounge and discuss
the situation in greater detail.”
Leia nodded. “Very well, Captain Picard.” She walked up to Picard.
“Which way?”
“We’ll lead,” Picard replied. He, Riker and Troi began walking towards
the right. Leia, Solo, and company followed them.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard sat at the head of the observation lounge table.
Riker and Troi sat at their customary spots, while Solo, Leia, and Luke Skywalker
sat at the other seats. The droids were by the starport, and Chewbacca had
insisted on standing by the right entrance.
“You have a good ship,” Solo complimented Picard. “And huge. This is
incredible.”
Picard gave a little smile. “Thank you, Captain.” He paused for a
moment. “We come from a galaxy far, far away. The Enterprise represents a
polical body called the United Federation of Planets, which is made up of more
than one hundred fifty worlds.”
Solo’s eyebrows shut up. “That’s a lot of worlds. Am I correct in
assuming it is a republic?”
“A democracy, yes,” Picard replied. “Anyway, this starship was part of an
armada defending against powerful alien intruders. The aliens were destroyed,
but we were caught in the shock wave caused by the destruction of the last alien
vessel with severe damage. The next thing we knew, we were here.”
Luke spoke up. “Is there a chance these aliens… might come here?”
“We don’t know,” Picard answered. “There’s still a great deal about them
we still don’t understand.”
“After repairs are completed,” Riker said, “our priority should be to
retrieve the prisoners.”
“Agreed, Number One,” Picard said. “Captain Solo, any suggestions?”
Solo thought for a moment. “That Star Destroyer could be anywhere. We
could try to retrace its course, but the Star Destroyer could’ve changed course…”
“Until I see some better options, we will do that,” Picard said. “Number
One, lay in a course of pursuit. After repairs are complete, we will engage that
course.” He got up. “As for helping the Rebellion, we will see after we get our
crew members back.”

Worf screamed from the intense pain racing through his whole body. He
had no idea how long he was suffering like this. It seemed like forever. Then, it
stopped suddenly.
“Do you feel like talking now?” the commander asked in a tired tone. “If
not, we can try a mind sift… either way, we will get the information we want.”
Worf didn’t like the sound of “mind sift.” If his captors used that, they
might gain all sorts of classified information they wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.
“I will talk,” he said in a weak tone.
“Finally,” the commander said. “First of all, who are you?” “I am
Worf, son of Mogh.”
“Where are you from?”
“The Milky Way Galaxy.”
The commander snorted. “What political body?” he asked. “The
United Federation of Planets.”
“What is your-”
Then, an alarm sounded. A voice came over some sort of internal
communications system. “Prepare for Lord Vader’s imminent arrival.” The
commander grunted. “Well, Worf, we will have to continue this at another time.”
Worf heard doors opening. They shut a minute later.
Captain Kalome stood nervously on the flight deck of the Gunterge. He
hadn’t expected Lord Vader to arrive so early.
The Imperial shuttle landed on the deck. The doors slid open, and a black
figure with a cape strode out with four stormtroopers. A heavy breathing sound
came from his direction. It was Darth Vader.
“My lord, what an unexpected pleasure,” Kalome said as he walked up to
Vader.
“Spare me the pleasantries, Captain,” Vader said, staring at Kalome.
“Why did you abandon the alien ship?” he asked angrily.
Kalome swallowed. “Lord Vader, they managed to restore power. They
severely crippled-”
“You should have had them before they had the time to power up,” Vader
replied. He held up his hand. “The Empire cannot afford to have incompetent
command officers on this mission.” He made a squeezing motion with his thumb
and pointed finger.
Kalome felt something tug at his neck. The tugging became stronger with
each passing second. Kalome had difficulty breathing. He reached up to his neck
when the realization hit him: Darth Vader was using the infamous Force
choke-grip on him. By that time, it was too late. He passed out, and hit the deck.

Commander Jafar watched Darth Vader use the choke-grip on Kalome
with excitement. He was finally going to be captain of the Gunterge. He smiled
as Kalome hit the deck.
“Now, Captain,” Vader said, turning to Jafar, “do you have any prisoners
to interrogate?”
“Oh yes, sir!” Jafar said, grinning. “We also have one of their droids. It is
more advanced than anything we’ve got, though. It looks like a human, and it was
also wearing one of their uniforms.”
“Have you made progress with it?” Vader asked.
Jafar shook his head. “Unfortunately, the droid was already damaged by
something else when we found it. It was shut down. Our attempts to repair it
have been unsuccessful.”
“I want to examine this droid,” Vader replied. He motioned towards
Kalome’s body. “Dispose of that.”
“Yes, sir,” two stormtroopers said, walking up. They bent down, grabbed
Kalome’s arms, and began to haul him away.
“The droid is in Engineering, my lord,” Jafar said. He began walking
towards the main exit of the flight deck. “Follow me.”

Vader looked at the damaged droid. It had pale white skin, with black
hair and golden eyes. It looked like a human, as Jafar had said. The uniform the
droid was wearing had scorch marks on the chest area, as did the hands. He
wondered what caused that.
“We can’t repair it,” Jafar was saying. “We simply don’t have the
technology.”
Vader reached inside the droid with the Force. He saught the processing
center. When he found it, he began to access the information in it. He saught
information on how to repair the droid.
Suddenly, the droid’s processing center began to function on its own.
Vader felt a sentient mind inside the processing center. This was beyond any
droid he had encountered.
“Sir, something’s going on inside the droid,” an engineering lieutenant
reported to Jafar.
“What?” Jafar bent over a display of the droid’s interior. A section of the
droid’s head was flashing white. “It appears the droid’s command center has been
activated.” He looked at Vader.
The sentient mind spoke to the presence invading it. [I am Lieutenant
Commander Data of the Federation Starship Enterprise. I must ask you to leave.]
“This droid is far more advanced than anything we have,” Vader said. “It
is fully sentient.”
Jafar’s mouth dropped open. “An… artificial person?” He swallowed.
“That is not so unusual,” Vader replied. “Remember the Clone Wars?”
“I was just a little kid,” Jafar said. He swallowed again. “But… that was
still organic material. To have a sentient machine… that is a marvelous
achievement.”
Vader sent a message to the droid’s mind. [Tell me how to disable your
vessel without destroying it.]
The mind accessed information within its “positronic net.” [If my
assumption is right and you are Garthusian, I must inform you that your attempts
at coercing me to give you information will not be successful.] “Do a
complete search of our databanks,” Vader told Jafar. “Find any reference to the
term ‘Garthusian’.”
“Yes, sir,” Jafar acknowledged. He walked over to a massive control
panel and began tapping buttons.
[I have gained insight into your action,] the mind said. [Who are you?]
[You will tell me how to capture your vessel, or you will be destroyed!]
[If you destroy me, you will have no means to capture the Enterprise.]
Vader began to go deeper into the droid’s mind. [Perhaps there is another
way.]

Data felt the intruder push deeper into his mind. He tried to resist it, but it
was too powerful. The intruder put Data’s mind into a state of unconsciousness.

Captain’s log, stardate 44219.3. What little repairs we can make to the
Enterprise following the shock wave and the Imperial invasion are complete. The
rest of the repairs must be completed in drydock when we return to Federation
space.
The Enterprise is now on a course following the Imperial Star Destroyer
that has captured one hundred of our crew members, at a speed of warp factor
two. We have yet to pick up the Star Destroyer on sensors, but our sensors can
make out a trail of gravitational eddies that was made by the Star Destroyer’s
hyperdrive.

The Rebellion has promised to assist us in any way they can. They have
been briefed on our universe, and will let us know if they encounter any vessels
from it. Meanwhile, I have decided not to tell the people in the Star Wars
universe about the fact that they are, in essence, the creation of someone in our
universe. Instead, I have decided to tell them that we have been observing them
for years, and that that is why we know so much about them.

Lieutenant Sheer looked at the tactical console as soon as it started
beeping. A Star Destroyer was at the edge of sensor range. “Captain, Star
Destroyer on long-range sensors.”
Picard got out of the command chair. “Is it the same one we encountered
earlier?”
“Yes, sir,” McKenzie said.
“Open a channel,” Picard ordered.
“Channel open,” Sheer said.
Picard cleared his throat. “This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise.
Release the prisoners at once.”
“No reply,” Sheer said. “They are laying in an intercept course. Slowing
to impulse.”
“Slow to impulse,” Picard said. “Lock phasers.”
“Yes, Captain,” Hines at the conn said.
“Aye, sir,” Sheer acknowledged.
The multicolored streaks on the main viewer changed to still points of
white light. The Star Destroyer was not yet in visual range. “Receiving a
hail from the Imperials,” Sheer said.
“Put them on,” Picard replied.
The speakers crackled. “I will release your prisoners in exchange for the
the Millenium Falcon,” a deep voice said. Heavy breathing could be heard.
Darth Vader had spoken those words.
Picard walked back to the tactical station. He looked at the display of the
Gunterge and the Falcon. The were both within visual range now. He told Sheer
to put them both on the main viewer.
Picard studied the two vessels as he walked back to and sat in his
command chair. They both looked relatively beat up, one from normal wear and
tear and the other from the Enterprise’s weapons. “That is not acceptable.”
Picard heard a familiar voice in his mind. [Captain...] the calm voice
called.
“Data!” Picard exclaimed. The bridge crew all looked at him, puzzled
looks on their faces. He must’ve been the only one who received the telepathic
message. Picard stood there, thinking. “This must be some sort of trick. You are
using the Force.”
[No, it's not a trick,] Data’s voice said desperately. [Please believe me...]
“You know it’s not,” Vader said over the comm.
“Release them!” Picard shouted.
[Help me...] Data said.
“We will release half the prisoners now,” Vader said. “The other half will
remain aboard the Gunterge until we have the Millenium Falcon.” An idea
suddenly materialized in Picard’s mind. He could hand over an empty Falcon to
Vader. “I accept you terms. Transport the crew members over here now.”
Ten shuttles suddenly launched from the Gunterge. They were on a
course straight for the Enterprise. Picard punched on the intercom. “Shuttlebays
One and Two, prepare to receive the Imperial shuttles.” “Yes, sir,” someone
said over the comm.
Picard looked at Sheer. “Have several heavily security teams posted at
each shuttle bay,” he said in a low voice the speaker’s wouldn’t pick up.
“Aye, Captain,” Sheer said. He got to work on the tactical console.
Picard raised his voice. “We are ready to receive the shuttles.” The
shuttles disappeared from the main viewer. They were now at the aft of the
saucer section.
“Put the shuttles on screen,” Picard ordered. “Meanwhile, keep the other
ships on.”
The bottom half of the main viewer showed the shuttles docking. The top
right corner showed the Millenium Falcon, while the top left corner showed the
Gunterge. Picard kept his eye on the shuttles. After they were done docking, he
said, “Have the prisoners released.”
“They are being released now,” Vader said.
After one minute, McKenzie reported that all the prisoners were released
Picard punched the intercom button again. “Sickbay, Doctor Crusher,
have all of the former prisoners subjected to medical testing to make sure there
was no harm to them.”
“It’ll take a while,” Beverly Crusher replied over the comm. “I can’t fit all
fifty inside sickbay; I’ll have to convert a cargo bay.” “Make every effort.
Picard out.”
Vader’s voice sounded throughout the bridge. “Now, the Millenium
Falcon”
“All right,” Picard said. He tapped the intercom. “Transporter Room
Three.”
“Chief O’Brien here, sir.”
“Maintain a transporter lock on the crew of the Millenium Falcon. I want
you to beam them out just after the Falcon lands on the Gunterge’s flight deck.”
“Aye, sir,” O’Brien acknowledged. “However, with the power situation, I
can’t guarantee I’ll get them all.”
“Understood. Picard out.” He got out of the command chair. “Vader,
prepare to receive the Millenium Falcon.”
“I await its arrival,” Vader replied.
Picard motioned for the channel to be muted.

“Aye, sir,” Sheer said, touching a button on the tactical console. “Channel
closed.”
Riker looked at Picard with a worried expression. “Captain, if we betray-”
“I’m not going to betray them, Number One,” Picard said. “Mr. Sheer,
send Captain Solo a message via the subspace communicator we gave him. Tell
him that I will beam them out just as the Falcon gets inside the Gunterge.”
“Yes, Captain,” Sheer said.
Picard looked at the main viewer. “Get that aft view off.” The view of the
Enterprise’s aft section disappeared, leaving the Falcon and the Gunterge.

“I sense worry over on the Millenium Falcon,” Troi reported. “They’re
afraid it might not work. They will comply with your decision, though.” “Very
well,” Picard said. “Lock a tractor beam onto the Falcon, and place them within
one hundred meters of the Star Destroyer.”
“Aye, Captain,” Sheer said. His hands danced across the tactical console.
“It will take a minute, sir.”
Picard waited anxiously as the tractor beam did its work. He walked up to
the Ops and conn stations, and stared at the main viewer. The blue tractor beam
was pulling the Falcon slowly towards the Star Destroyer. Then, what seemed
like an eternity later, the beam disengaged. “Tractor beam released, sir,” Sheer
reported.
“Very well,” Picard said. “Open a channel to the Gunterge.” “Yes,
sir,” Sheer said. “Channel open.”
Picard cleared his throat. “Now, Vader, return the rest of the prisoners.”
“As you wish,” Vader’s deep voice replied over the intercom. Ten
more Imperial shuttles launched from the Gunterge. They sped towards the
Enterprise. At the same time, the Falcon drew closer to the Star Destroyer.
“The Gunterge has locked a tractor beam onto the Millenium Falcon,”
Sheer reported. “It is different from any type of tractor beam we have
encountered before, but it is less technologically advanced.”
Picard nodded his acknowledgement and sat back down in the command
chair He punched the intercom on. “Shuttlebays Three and Four, prepare to
receive the Imperial shuttles.”
“Yes, sir,” officers replied in both shuttlebays.
“Picard out.” He punched the intercom again. “Doctor Crusher, have the
returning prisoners checked out.”
“I’ve already assigned Doctor Selar to do that,” Beverly replied. “I’m busy
with the first group.”
“Acknowledged. Picard out.”
McKenzie turned around to face Picard. “The Imperial shuttles have
docked.” She fced her console again, then turned back around. “The prisoners
are being released.” She returned her attention to the Ops console.
“Vader,” Picard said, “have the first group of shuttles return to your ship. Then,
when all the prisoners are released, have the second group return.”
“Doing so now,” Vader replied.
“Understood. Picard out.” Picard watched the Falcon get sucked into the
Star Destroyer. He also watched the first ten Imperial shuttles race back home as
he activated the intercom. “Transporter Room Three, energize”
“Aye, sir,” O’Brien acknowledged. “Hold on… the transporter lock is
gone! I can’t reestablish!”
Picard leapt out of the command chair and walked up to the aft section of
the bridge. He looked at Sheer. “Have they raised any shields?” Sheer glanced
at the tactical console. He looked back at Picard, a puzzled expression on his
face. “No shields, sir. There’s nothing in place that would block a transporter
beam, or mess up a lock.”
Picard walked down to the center of the bridge. He looked at Troi. “Do
you sense anything that might explain this?”
“Not at all, sir,” Troi replied.
Picard then realized what was going on. Vader was using the Force. He
whirled around to face the main viewer. The last ten Imperial shuttles were
speeding away from the Enterprise. “Standard view,” he ordered. The main
viewer changed to show just the Star Destroyer.
“I still can’t get a lock,” O’Brien said over the intercom. “Nothing I’ve
tried will work.”
“Keep trying, Mr. O’Brien,” Picard said. “Picard out.” He walked up to
the Ops station. “Lieutenant McKenzie, are all of the prisoners accounted for?”
“Yes, sir,” she reported. Then, her face darkened. “No, sir. Data has not
been returned.”
Picard began to get infuriated. He had an angry expression on his face.
“Mr. Sheer, open a channel!”
“Channel open, sir,” Sheer said.
Picard faced the main viewer. “Vader, you have not satisfied your end of
the deal.”
“No response, sir,” Sheer said.
Picard sighed. “Number One, assemble an away team in Transporter
Room Three to get back Data and the Falcon.”
“Yes, sir.” Riker leapt out of his chair. “Sheer, McKenzie, Hines, you’re
with me.” He slapped his commbadge. “Riker to La Forge, meet us in
Transporter Room Three. You’re on an away team to the Star Destroyer.”
“Right,” Geordi La Forge responded. “I’ll be there right away.” “Good.
Riker out.” He slapped his commbadge again. “Riker to Crusher.”
“Crusher here. Go ahead, Will.”
“Can you spare anyone for an away team to the Star Destroyer?” “Yes, I
can,” Beverly replied. “Me.”
“Great. Meet us in Transporter Room Three.”
“Gotcha. Crusher out.”
Riker, McKenzie, Sheer, and Hines piled into the turbolift. Three officers
quickly took McKenzie’s, Sheer’s, and Hines’s positions. Picard turned to Riker
before the turbolift doors closed. “Number One, notify me when you’re ready to
beam over.”
“Aye, sir,” Riker said. The turbolift doors slid shut.
In Transporter Room Three, the away team assembled. Riker
immediately walked up to Geordi. “Can you design a program for the tricorder to
implement that would be able to incapacitate Data?”
Geordi let out a long, slow breath. “I could try, sir. Why?” “I just
have a bad feeling, that’s all.”
“All right.” Geordi unholstered his tricorder, and flipped it open. He
began to fiddle around with it. Fifteen minutes later, he reported, “The program
is ready. I can’t guarantee it’ll go any good, though.” “Very well.” Riker
stepped onto the transporter pad. The rest of the away team followed suit. Then
he slapped his commbadge.

Picard returned his attention to the main viewer. The Star Destroyer was
still sitting there, with no signs that it would retreat. Picard’s commbadge
chirped. “Riker to Captain Picard.” Picard slapped his commbadge. “Go
ahead.”
“We’re ready to beam over.”
“Standby.” Picard walked to the aft section of the bridge. “Mr.
MacDonald, can we beam them over?”
MacDonald checked the tactical console. “Yes we can, sir.”
“Excellent. Number One, beam over.”
“Aye, sir. Riker out.”
Just after Riker signed off, a surprised MacDonald reported, “Captain,
they have raised shields. We cannot beam the away team over.” Picard cursed
under his breath. “I don’t think their shields are that good. Give me a report on
them.”
MacDonald checked the tactical console. He tapped some buttons.
“You’re right, sir. Their shields are not very good at all. One phaser blast at full
power should overload them.”
Picard looked at MacDonald skeptically. “Can we get full power to the
phasers?”
MacDonald checked the tactical console again. “No, sir. We can fire a
blast at thirty-five percent power, though.”
Picard shook his head. “What good would a photon torpedo do?”
MacDonald grinned a little. “It would overload their shields.” “Then arm the
photon torpedoes,” Picard said. He walked back to his command chair and sat
down. “Target one torpedo on their landing bay area. Fire when ready.”
“Yes, sir,” MacDonald said. He touched several buttons on the tactical
console. “Firing photon torpedo.”
On the main viewer, the photon torpedo raced towards the Gunterge. The
Star Destroyer tried to move away, but it was no use. The torpedo struck the
Gunterge. Purple energy crackled around the Gunterge for several seconds, then
disappated. The shields were down.
Picard punched the intercom on. “Mr. O’Brien, energize!” “Yes, sir,”
O’Brien replied. “Transport successful.” Picard felt a grin tug at his lips.
“Very well. Picard out.” He looked up at MacDonald. “What’s the status of the
Star Destroyer?” “They’re arming some kind of weapon,” MacDonald
reported. Picard’s little grin faded away. “Shields up, red alert.” The
red alert klaxons sounded as a white energy bolt emitted from the Star Destroyer’s
bow. The energy bolt raced towards the Enterprise, and impacted its partial
navigational shields.

“Report,” Picard demanded.
“The shields on our port bow are down,” MacDonald said. “That is all.”
Then, MacDonald got a startled expression on his face. “They’re going to warp!”
On the main viewer, the Gunterge was moving away from the Enterprise.
Then, it sped away. The main viewer showed nothing but black space and stars.
“Lay in a pursuit course,” Picard ordered. “Warp two.” “Aye, sir,”
Ensign Phillips at the conn said. “Sir, we can’t go warp two. Maximum warp in
now warp one point three.”
Picard sighed. “Then warp one point three. Engage!” “Yes, sir.”
Phillips touched several controls at the conn, and the Enterprise blazed into warp.

CHAPTER FOUR

Commander William Riker examined his surroundings. The away team
was in what appeared to be a large storage room. Small white boxes lined the
right and left walls, and the back wall had two sets of stormtrooper armor
strapped to it. The front wall, which had the door, was equipped with two
computer consoles, one on each side of the large door. The consoles had some
sort of writing on them that Riker couldn’t interpret. “Well, it looks like
two of us get to go inconspicuously, I guess,” Beverly said, looking at the
stormtrooper armor.
“Let’s examine this room first,” Riker said. “Geordi?” Geordi
thoroughly examined the boxes. He flipped open his tricorder, and scanned the
boxes. “These boxes have parts for laser weapons in them. All in all, there are
fifty boxes total. With the parts contained in all of these boxes, you could make
one hundred laser weapons.” Riker flipped open his own tricorder. “This
room is nine meters long by ten meters wide. It is five meters in height.” He
walked to the back wall. “Would removing these trip any security systems?”
“I don’t think so, Commander,” Geordi said. He scanned the back wall
with his tricorder. “No security systems that I can detect.” “All right,” Riker
said. He placed his hands on the left stormtrooper helmet. “Here goes nothing.”
He pulled the helmet off the wall. Nothing happened. He smiled. “It’s all right.”
“Who gets to play dress up?” McKenzie asked.
“Sheer and I,” Riker said. “The rest of you will look like our prisoners.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Beverly asked. “They know that Data is the
only Enterprise prisoner left.”
“It’s our best shot,” Riker said. He pulled all of the stormtrooper armor on
the left side off the wall. He quickly suited up.
Riker had difficulty seeing inside the stormtrooper armor. It was hot and
stuffy inside. He waved his arms up and down. It seemed he had a little
difficulty moving as well. He looked down at himself with effort. The spotless
white armor looked quite new. He didn’t know whether that would be a blessing
or a curse.
“Something tells me you wouldn’t want to walk around with a phaser,”
Geordi said. “I might be able to assemble two laser weapons for you from the
parts in those boxes.”
Riker looked at Geordi. “Go ahead,” he said. It sounded like his voice
was being filtered somehow.
“Right,” Geordi said. Tricorder in hand, he took a box from the rightmost
stack on the right wall. The stacks all along the right wall wiggled a bit, then
stayed still. Keeping a close watch on the stacks of boxes, he examined the box
in his possession. It seemed to be made out of the same type of plastic as the
stormtrooper armor. The box wasn’t that big, about the height and width of a
computer monitor. It was as long as the distance between a man’s elbow to his
hand. Black latches on the top of the box, two for each of the four sides, kept the
box closed.
Geordi pried each of the latches open. Then, he pulled the lid off the top
of the box. He tossed it aside. Flipping open his tricorder, he examined the
contents inside.
The box was filled with an assortment of laser parts. He thought he could
easily make two laser weapons from these parts. It would take him a while to
figure it out, though. He looked at Riker. “I can probably have one functional
laser weapon in fifteen minutes, at least.” “Then snap to it,” Riker ordered.
“Yes, sir.” Geordi bent over the box, and got to work.

Data sat up. He examined his surroundings. Schematics and displays
surrounded him. The displays and schematics on the walls showed the status of
the Star Destroyer. A large table, approximately one meter long by two meters
wide, showed the schematics and displays for Data’s android body It took up a
small portion of the room he was in, which was fifteen meters long by twenty
meters wide. The table Data was sitting on was composed of white plastic, and
was two meters long by three meters long. “He’s awake,” an engineering
technician said behind him anxiously. Data turned around to face the
person who had spoken. He was a young man, one point seven meters tall, who
had a brown hat on that obscured his hair color. He had on the brown uniform of
the Imperial Navy, and wore the rank indicators of a lieutenant. He looked quite
young. “I know,” a deep voice said. Data recognized it as Darth Vader’s.
Vader strode in from the small entrance in the back of the room. “Leave us.”
“Yes, my lord,” the lieutenant said. He departed quickly. Data stood up
and faced Vader. “How shall we begin?” “Most of what you need to know,
you do know,” Vader said. “However, there will be several tests coming up.”
Data was puzzled. “What are these ‘tests’?”
“I cannot tell you,” Vader said. “They will be over shortly. They will
determine whether you are truly ready to take your place as third-in-command of
the Empire.”
Data nodded. “I understand, my lord. Where am I to take these tests?”
“Most will take place on the bridge of this vessel.” Vader stepped into the
doorway. “Follow me.”

Riker and Sheer took the weapons Geordi had made for them. They
looked similar to the phaser rifles from the previous century. The resemblance
wasn’t close, though.
“What about our phasers?” McKenzie asked, pointing at the type two
phaser in the holster on her belt.
“We can’t leave them in here,” Hines said. “The Imperials can’t get phaser
technology.”
“Agreed,” Riker said. “Just keep them on you. Your hands will be over
your head, anyway.” He took Geordi’s and Beverly’s arms, and lined them up side
by side. He pointed the laser weapon at their backs. “Hands over your head.”
As Geordi and Beverly did what they were told, McKenzie and Hines also
lined up side by side. They stood next to Geordi and Beverly. Sheer walked up
behind him, and pointed his own laser weapon at their backs. “All right, let’s
go,” Riker said.
The team moved towards the door. When the door didn’t open
automatically, Geordi examined the wall around the door. On the left side of the
door was a fairly large, circular button. Geordi pushed it. The door slid open.
The flight deck lay beyond.
The flight deck was huge. Stormtroopers and brown-clad personnel
scurried all over the place. Ten Imperial shuttles lined the right and left walls.
The Millenium Falcon sat in the center of the flight deck. The crew of the Falcon
stood outside, with stormtroopers surrounding them. A person who appeared to
be wearing black armor and a cape was speaking to them. Riker wanted to get a
closer look. He motioned the rest of his team to move towards the Falcon. While
they moved, Riker listened intently to the conversation.
“How fortunate it is that the alien starship arrived,” the black-clad person
said. Riker recognized the voice as Darth Vader’s.
“They have something planned,” Solo said. “And I guarantee you, you
won’t like it.”
“I’m sure,” Vader said. Then, he suddenly whirled around. He looked
directly at the away team from the Enterprise. “I thought all of the prisoners were
released!”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Riker said. “These prisoners were found in the storage
bay.” He motioned back towards the room they had come from. The door had
since slid shut. “We were taking them to you.”
Vader looked at Riker for a long time. The mask he was wearing hid his
facial expressions. “You will wait until I am finished with these Rebels”
“Yes, sir,” Riker said.
Vader turned back to the smiling Solo. “Don’t be so overconfident,
smuggler,” Vader said. He motioned towards the flight deck’s exit and the back
of the room. “Take them away!”
The stormtroopers took Solo, Leia, Luke, and Chewbacca by the arms and
began walking towards the exit. Chewbacca threw the two stormtroopers who
were holding him at the hull of the Falcon. The force of the impact knocked
them unconscious. Chewbacca roared.
One of the stormtroopers who was escorting Solo whirled around to face
Chewbacca. He fired his laser weapon at Chewbacca. Three purple balls of
energy struck Chewbacca, and he fell to the deck with a thump! Two of the
stormtroopers who were walking around the flight deck walked up to
Chewbacca’s limp form and began pulling him towards the exit. “Where are
the droids!?” Vader asked.
The stormtroopers stopped in their tracks, and as a result, the Rebels
stopped. The stormtrooper who had shot Chewbacca earlier approached Vader
“We couldn’t find them on the Correlian freighter, my lord.” Vader raised
his right hand. “I will not tolerate this incompetence!” The fingers in his right
hand squeezed together. The stormtrooper slumped onto the deck, making
wheezing sounds all the way. When he hit the deck, the wheezing stopped.
Vader motioned for two of the brown-clad personnel. They approached
Vader quickly. “Yes, my lord?”
“Dispose of that,” Vader said, pointing at the fallen stormtrooper. “Yes,
sir,” both of them said at the same time. They approached the body, bent down,
and began pulling it away.

Vader motioned towards the exit. “Take them to the holding cells.”
“Yes, my lord,” one of the stormtroopers said. They began walking
towards the exit.
Vader looked back at the team from the Enterprise. “Why were those
prisoners allowed to escape?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Riker said. “I was just called to find them, that’s all.”
Vader stared at Riker for a long time. “Take them to the holding cells.”
“Yes, sir,” Riker said. He thrust his laser weapon into Geordi’s back.
“Let’s get moving.”
The Enterprise team walked towards the exit. When they got there, Riker
pressed the button beside the door. The door slid open slowly, and then they
walked out into the corridor.
As the door slid shut behind them, Riker looked around. The corridor was
brightly lit. Brown-clad and gray-clad personnel were walking all over The
corridor seemed to be divided into sections. At the end of each section, the
ceiling dropped downwards a bit, and the floor extended upwards a tiny bit. The
walls were a sort of bluish-gray. Two stormtroopers stood at the end of every
section. Three large doors were on the walls of every section.
One of the gray-clad people approached Riker and Sheer. In a threatening
tone, he asked, “What are your orders?”
“Lord Vader told us to take these prisoners to the holding cells,” Riker
said, indicating Beverly, Geordi, McKenzie, and Hines.
The man eyed them suspiciously. “You’re not going to get them to the
holding cells by just standing here.” He walked towards the nearest door. “Here.”
He punched the button on the right side of the door. The door slid open,
revealing what looked like a turbolift. The turbolift had a large console in the
back, with what looked like a schematic of the entire Star Destroyer. It had green
lines, and had green labels with arrows pointing to different sections.
Unfortunately, Riker couldn’t read the writing.

He decided to go into the turbolift anyway. He led the team into the
turbolift. Then, he turned around to face the man. “Thank you.” The man just
sneered and walked away. The door to the turbolift slid shut.
Geordi was looking at the console. “We’ll be going all over the place in
this thing looking for the holding cells!”
“I concealed my tricorder in my armor,” Riker said regretfully.
“Lieutenant McKenzie, can I borrow yours?”
“Certainly, Commander,” McKenzie said. She handed Riker her tricorder.
Riker flipped open the tricorder, and set it to search for a Starfleet
communicator. It found one, ten decks below them. It was the communicator
that Captain Picard had given Han Solo in case of a situation like this “I’ve found
Captain Solo’s communicator ten decks below us. Geordi, can you input that into
the console?”
Geordi looked at Riker, then back at the console. He had a skeptical
expression on his face. “Here goes nothing.” He punched a green button that had
a green arrow pointing somewhere ten decks below them. The turbolift began
moving with a jerk. Rier steadied himself and Beverly. He looked at Geordi.
“What was that?”
Geordi took his tricorder out of its holster and flipped it open. Geordi
looked at the readings. “Nothing that the tricorder can find. It’s probably just the
technology, or lack thereof.”
The turbolift came to a screeching halt, again jerking its passengers
around. Then the door opened. Riker motioned for Geordi and Beverly to get in
front of him. Sheer did the same with McKenzie and Hines. When they had all
assumed their positions, they exited the turbolift. The door slid shut behind them.
The room they were in looked like some sort of control room. Several
hallways started from it. Black-clad personnel manned the control panels that
took up most of the room’s space. One gray-clad person turned to face the
Enterprise team. “Ah, the aliens.” He looked at Riker and Sheer. “Cell numbers
one-five-six and one-five-eight.”
“Gotcha,” Riker said. He pointed at the right-most hallway, and the
Enterprise team moved in that direction.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the gray-clad man said. He pointed to
the left-most hallway. “That hallway.” He had a smile on his face. Riker
was puzzled by the man’s apparent happiness but dismissed it as an Imperial
idiosyncracy. He motioned for Sheer and his group of pretend-prisoners to go
first. Riker followed closely behind.
McKenzie and Hines walked up the steps leading to the hallway. They
took a little step forward, and then purple energy filled the entrance to the
hallway for a moment. Hines and McKenzie were thrown backward, hard. They
landed on the floor with a loud thump. The crack of bones breaking was also
heard. They smelled like they were being cooked. They weren’t breathing. It
was a foregine conclusion that they were dead.
Beverly wanted to make sure. She kneeled down and checked their pulses
on their necks. Sure enough, they were dead.
All ten Imperials in the room had their weapons drawn. The gray-clad one
was grinning broadly. “Give us your weapons,” he said with pleasure. Riker
quickly raised his weapon, aimed in the general direction of the gray-clad
Imperial, and fired. Several laser bolts erupted from the gun. None of them his
their target. Then, Riker figured out it was a repeating weapon. He held his
finger on the trigger, and waved the weapon around, the same way he would a
hose. He took out five Imperials, including the gray-clad one, before the
Imperials reacted. They fired their laser weapons at the Enterprise team. The
team skillfully dodged the laser bolts.
Riker happily noted that none of the Imperials with them appeared to have
repeating weapons. That would be an advantage. He pressed the trigger again,
and waved the weapon around. Three Imperials went down. Two to go.
Sheer caught on and pressed his own trigger, and waved his laser weapon
around. He took out the two remaining Imperials.
Riker surveyed the room. Most of the control panels had been destroyed
by stray laser bolts. One of the control panels still functioned, however. It was a
communications console, and someone was screaming his head off through the
speaker on the panel.
“Hello!?” the yelling voice said. “What in the Empire is going on down
there!? Do you here me!?”
Riker hurried up to the console. He saw a little red button on the speaker.
He pressed it. “Situation under control.”
“Under control!?” the voice screamed. “Under control!? Who in the name
of the Empire is this!?”
“Look, the situation is under control. Nothing to worry about.” The
door to the turbolift slid open. Ten stormtroopers piled into the room. They
immediately began firing their laser weapons. Several bolts hit the
communications console, which destroyed it. Riker dodged the laser bolts and
the sparks erupting from the communications console. He ducked beneath one of
the consoles, and opened fire on the stormtroopers. He took out two of them.
Geordi took out his phaser, set it to eight, put it on wide beam, and
managed to take out five stormtroopers with once shot before he was forced to
take cover behind a chair. Beverly and Sheer also managed to find shelter
beneath the consoles.
The stormtroopers kept firing. One of the shots almost his Riker on the
shoulder. He aimed at a stormtrooper, and fired. The stormtrooper fell to the
deck.
The two remaining stormtroopers ceased firing. They ran to area of the
control panels, where they had a clear shot at everyone. Unfortunately for them,
everyone had a clear shot at them, too. Geordi took them out with his phaser.
Then, everyone was safe, for the moment. They stood back up.
“I’d say somebody knows we’re here,” Sheer said.
“Then we have to hurry,” Riker said. He began taking his armor off.
“These don’t seem to be of any use anymore.” After he was done, Riker put his
phaser back in its holster and flipped open his tricorder. He pointed at the
right-most hallway. “Captain Solo and his crew are in the first cell on the right.”
He then frowned. “There’s a force field up that we can’t go through.”
“Considering their state of technology, this should do the trick,” Geordi
said. He aimed his phaser at the force field blocking the right hallway, set it to
sixteen and narrow beam, and fired. The phaser beam collided against the force
field, and both phaser beam and force field dissapated. “The force field is out of
commission.”
“Good,” Riker said. He looked at Sheer, who had just taken off his
stormtrooper armor. “You keep guard by the entrance.”
“Yes, sir,” Sheer replied. Phaser at the ready, he took his position by the
hallway entrance.
Riker motioned Geordi and Beverly forward. “Let’s go.” The team
hurried to the first cell. Riker found a small, brown button on the very right side
of the door. It wasn’t raised like the other ones. There was just a circle. If you
weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t notice it. Riker punched the button.
The door slid open. Han Solo and Luke Skywalker were in the cell.
Princess Leia and Chewbacca were nowhere to be seen.
“I almost thought you were goners,” Solo said. “I heard all of the blasters
shooting outside…”
“We’re all right,” Riker said. “Where are Chewbacca and Leia?” Solo
shook his head. “No idea. They locked us up before the locked up Chewie and
the Princess.”
Luke pointed at the cell directly across from them. “In there. They’re in
there.”
Solo looked at Luke skeptically. “How can you be so sure, kid?” “I
know they’re in there,” Luke replied forcibly.
Riker flipped open his tricorder and scanned the cell across from them.
The tricorder detected a human and a Wookie on the cell. Riker walked up to the
door, found the release button on the right side of the door, and punched the
button. The door slid open. Leia and Chewbacca were sitting there. They
walked out into the corridor.
Luke smiled. “Hello, Leia.”
Leia smiled. “Hello, Luke.” She looked at Commander Riker. “We’ve got
to get out of here.”
“My plan exactly,” Rker said. He looked at Beverly. “Doctor, examine
them first.”
“Right,” Beverly said. She flipped open her tricorder, and scanned each of
the former prisoners. “No sign of any injuries.”
“Good,” Riker said. He looked down at the control room. Sheer was still
guarding the hallway, and nothing was different from when they had entered the
hallway. He led everyone to the turbolift.
Geordi pressed the button to open the turbolift door. The door slid open.
Everyone piled inside, and the turbolift door slid shut.
Geordi examined the schematic in the back of the turbolift. He found the
button that had an arrow pointing to the deck ten decks above them, and pressed
it. The turbolift began moving with a jerk. It wasn’t as bad as last time, though.
After a minute, the turbolift stopped, and the turbolift door slid open.
Riker led the team out into the corridor.
The corridor wasn’t as busy as it was last time. In fact, it wasn’t busy at
all. Riker found this odd. There should at least be some activity.
A high chirp from the right interrupted Riker’s thoughts. Riker whirled
around to face the chirp’s source. A small robot on wheels was scurrying around
next to him. It had some sort of camera mounted on it. It also had a weapon
pointed at Riker’s head.
Riker set his phaser to setting five, and fired at the robot. The robot
exploded as soon as the phaser beam hit it.
“It’s a pretty good bet they know we’re here,” Solo said. “The flight deck
is probably already depressurized.”
Riker scanned the flight deck with his tricorder. There was a breathable
atmosphere. The only odd thing was, no life-forms were detected. “There are no
life-forms in there,” he said, puzzled.

“Old Wheezy probably has something up his sleeve,” Leia muttered.
“Going into the flight deck would probably be suicide.”
“It might be our only choice,” Riker said. “Hold on.” He slapped his
commbadge. “Riker to Enterprise.”
No response.
Riker slapped his commbadge again. “Riker to Enterprise.” Again,
no response.
“They’re probably out of range, or there’s some sort of intereference,”
Geordi said. “Although my VISOR isn’t detecting anything that could interfere
with subspace communication.” He took out his tricorder and scanned the area.
“The tricorder isn’t detecting anything either.” He reholstered the tricorder.
Riker considered the options. “We’ll go the flight deck,” he announced.
“Then, we’ll try to take the Millenium Falcon.”
“What about Data?” Geordi asked.
Riker flinched. Data! For some reason, he completely forgot about Data!
He scanned everywhere within tricorder range for Data’s commbadge. Oddly
enough, Data’s commbadge was being detected inside the flight deck. It wasn’t
there when he scanned the flight deck a minute ago, though. “Data’s commbadge
is on the flight deck.”
“I wonder why,” Beverly said.
Luke suddenly got a look of apprehension on his face. “It’s a trap.”
“I think he’s right,” Leia said. “I have a bad feeling about this.” Riker
set his tricorder to scan for humanoid life-forms throughout tricorder range. He
found ten humanoids approaching from each side. They were still pretty far
away, about one hundred meters. Their footsteps were just now becoming
audible. “Ten humanoids are approaching from either side of us.”
The Enterprise team all readied their phasers. Riker and Sheer handed
Solo and Chewbacca their laser weapons. Riker, Sheer, Geordi, and Beverly
stood beside the door to the flight deck. Solo, Chewbacca, Luke, and Leia stood
by the turbolift door.
The sounds were rapidly getting more pronounced. Riker consulted his
tricorder. They were thirty meters away on both sides and closing. “Set phasers
to setting six, wide beam,” Riker whispered. “We want to get this done as quickly
as possible.”
Solo watched the Enterprise team do what Riker ordered. He looked at
the phasers closely. They seemed to have more buttons and settings on them than
blasters ever did. “How many settings do those phasers have?” Solo asked Riker.
“Sixteen strength settings, ranging from light stun to heavy disruption,”
Riker answered. “You can also adjust beam width, angle, and frequency.”
Ten stormtroopers appeared from both the right and left. Riker and Sheer
quickly took out the ten on the right with one well-placed phaser blast from each
of them. Geordi and Beverly managed to take out eight stormtroopers on the left.
This was all before the stormtroopers could begin firing. The two remaining
stormtroopers aimed their weapons at Riker. Before they could fire, though,
Chewbacca took them both out with his repeating blaster. Chewbacca roared
with satisfaction.
“That was too easy,” Leia said.
Solo looked at Leia quizzically. “It wouldn’t have been ‘too easy’ if we
were trying to fight them with blasters. But they have those phasers, Your
Highness, that would make anything look easy.”
The door to the flight deck slid open. Data was standing there. Everyone
turned to look at him with surprise. Unfortunately, Data also had a blaster rifle in
each hand, no doubt repeating versions, with the left pointed at the Star Wars
people, the right pointed at the Enterprise team. “Lower your weapons.”
Everyone, except Sheer and Chewbacca, did what they were told. Sheer
aimed his phaser at Data. Chewbacca did the same with his blaster. Data
reacted instantly. He fired four precise blasts into Sheer’s chest, sending him
sprawling to the deck with a sickening thud. Sheer’s uniform tunic had a large
scorch mark in the very center. No one had to be told that Sheer was dead.
Data fired at Chewbacca at the exact same time. A purple energy sphere
erupted from Data’s blaster rifle and hit Chewbacca square in the chest. The
Wookie hit the deck with a loud thump. Data walked out into the corridor and
looked at Chewbacca’s limp form. “We will be able to use Chewbacca in an ore
processing center.”

Data then bent down and picked up Chewbacca’s blaster. He went around
and collected everyone else’s weapons. Data crushed the blasters, and set his own
blaser rifleson the deck. He crushed one blaster rifle, and opened up the top of
the other blaster rifle, exposing blue and red colored circuity. There were three
small areas where there was no circuity, however. They were shaped exactly like
a Type-two phaser. Data inserted three of the phasers into the small areas, and
then closed the top. He holstered the one remaining phaser, and then picked up
the rifle again. He aimed it at the Enterprise team.
“What did you do?” Riker asked.
Data smiled. “Cutting away the technobabble, I essentially turned this
into a phaser rifle. One with the force of three Type-two phasers.” Geordi
looked surprised, as did Beverly and Riker. “Data,” Geordi said, “since when do
you cut out technobabble?”
“Because that isn’t important,” Data said. He motioned towards the flight
deck. “Come with me, please.” He entered the flight deck, and waited
Riker nodded, and then everyone entered the flight deck. The door slid
shut behind them.
“Good,” Data said, phaser-blaster still pointed at them. He pointed at the
huge doors on the floor seperating the flight deck from space. “Stand over there.”
Everyone walked up to the doors. They didn’t actually stand on them,
though. They stood just beside them.
“Very well,” Data said, still pointing his weapon at them. He adjusted
some settings on the rifle. He aimed it at the Star Wars people, and fired. A
large, red beam struck Solo, Leia, and Luke. They collapsed onto the deck.
“What happened to you?” Geordi asked Data.
“An explanation will come in time,” Data said. “Now, I will be brief.
You can side with the Empire, or you can die.”
“Don’t count on our support,” Riker said.
Data looked at Riker with a neutral expression. “I thought you’d say that.
We will mind-sift you to gain all of your knowledge, and then you will be
executed.” He aimed his weapon at the Enterprise team. A deep, heavy
breathing sound filled the flight deck. Darth Vader appeared from behind the
Millenium Falcon. “Do not be so hasty, Mr. Data.” He looked at the Enterprise
team. “They can still be turned.” Data lowered his weapon. “If you think so,
my lord.” Riker couldn’t read Vader’s expression, because of the mask. He
doubted being able to read Vader’s expression would do much good, though.
“Just how do you intend to turn us?” Beverly asked.
Vader held out his right hand. The phaser still in Data’s holster jumped
into his hand. He aimed it at the Enterprise team. He adjusted the settings, and
fired one shot at Beverly. When Beverly hit the deck, Vader phasered Geordi.
He then floated the phaser back into Data’s holster. Riker looked down at
Beverly and Geordi. They were still breathing, indicating that they were only
stunned. He looked up Vader. He had expected Vader to use the Force in some
way. Riker had learned about this universe from watching all of the movies in the
first Star Wars trilogy. It looked like they would prove useful.
Vader took out two lightsabers from underneath his cape. He gripped one
firmly in his right hand, and he laid the other one on the palm of his left hand.
“Riker, stand where you are. Use the Force to grab the lightsaber in my left
hand.”
Riker was puzzled. He didn’t think a person from his universe could use
the Force. He decided to try, though. He stretched out his right arm and hand,
and tried all he could to make the lightsaber on Vader’s left hand come to him. It
didn’t work.
“The only reason you can’t do it is because you don’t think you can,” Vader
declared.
Riker cursed under his breath and tried again. He tried to believe that he
really could retrieve the lightsaber from Vader’s left hand. He tried his hardest to
get the lightsaber. To his surprise, the lightsaber actually floated into his right
hand.
“Excellent,” Vader said. “You should be quite useful to the Empire.”
“I will never join the Empire or the likes of you,” Riker replied. “You
say that now, Riker, you say that now. However, I have forseen the future. It is
your destiny!”
“No, it is not. I am a Starfleet officer. That’s what I am, that’s what I
always will be.”
Suddenly, Vader moved forward, towards Riker. He ignited his
lightsaber, and swung at Riker.
Riker ignited his own lightsaber. He easily blocked Vader’s swing, and
then swung his own lightsaber, at Vader’s right arm. Vader easily deflected the
shot, and threw the lightsaber up into the air.
Riker was confused. Throwing the lightsaber up into the air served no
useful purpose. Unless… The lightsaber then suddenly aimed itself at Riker, and
charged downward. Riker raised his own lightsaber. When Vader’s lightsaber
was no more than two feet from killing him, Riker tried to use the Force to
deflect the lightsaber. Suddenly, under no will of his own, he brought his
lightsaber up, and swung at Vader’s lightsaber, making contact with it. Vader’s
lightsaber was knocked off course, and it headed straight for Vader. It was no
longer facing one direction, though. It was rotating rapidly. Riker didn’t think the
lightsaber would hit Vader. He was wrong, though. When the lightsaber neared
Vader, it was rotating fast enough to do appreciable damage. The blade of the
lightsaber cut off Vader’s right arm. After that, both Vader and the lightsaber fell
to the deck. It all happened so fast; Riker thought no more than two seconds had
gone by.
“The entire ordeal was fifty point two-three seconds,” Data said. “Not
bad, Commander. Although I could have disposed of Vader faster. As it is, you
only severed his right arm. Still, it is good, for a human.” Riker ignored Data.
He moved towards Vader’s lightsaber. He picked it up, and shut it down. He still
gripped both lightsabers tightly though, in case Vader tried any of his Force
tricks.
Vader finally stood up and faced Riker. “Most impressive, Riker. You
will make a fine present to the Emporer.”
“I won’t be a present to anyone. Now, release Data from whatever mind
control you’re using, Vader.”
Suddenly, Riker felt both of the lightsabers slipping from his grasp. Vader
was using the Force to get both of them. Then, Riker got an idea. Trying to use
the Force as hard as he could, Riker leapt into the air, and sped quickly towards
Vader. He ignited both lightsabers, and aimed them both at Vader. Riker
reached Vader, and both lightsabers hit Vader’s shoulders. The force of the
lightsaber impact knocked Vader to the deck. Vader lay limp on the deck. He
was still breathing, but he was clearly unconscious, and his breathing was
labored.

After Riker hit Vader with the lightsabers, he fell to the deck, and quickly
sprung to his feet. It seemed like the process only took a second. “Three
seconds exactly,” Data said. “Equally impressive.” Riker shut down his
lightsabers, and holstered them. “Data, listen to me. Vader is controlling you.
You are not yourself.”
“This is of my own will, Commander. Now, give me the lightsabers, or I
will take them by force.”
The word “force” gave Riker an idea. He pointed his right hand at Data,
and used the Force to make the phaser-blaster rifle float towards his hand. It
didn’t work. Data’s grip was too strong.
“That will not work with me,” Data said scornfully. He quickly walked up
to Riker. He grabbed the two lightsabers from their holsters, and then placed the
lightsabers in his own holsters. Then, he stepped away. “There. I doubt you
could pose a threat now.”
“You’re probably right,” Riker said. He made his way towards the
unconscious Geordi. He bent down, and grabbed Geordi’s tricorder. He stood
back up, and flipped the tricorder open. He fiddled with the tricorder, trying to
find the program Geordi designed to incapacitate Data. “Oh, I see what you’re
doing,” Data said. “It won’t work. You won’t find any field or whatever
controlling me. This is purely my decision.” Riker found Geordi’s
program. He pressed the “ProgStart” button on the tricorder. Data immediately
fell to the deck, unconscious. Riker set the tricorder back to scanning mode, and
scanned the area.
There were five stormtroopers outside. They were gathered around an
unconscious life-form, probably Chewbacca. They were pulling Chewbacca
away
Riker picked up the phaser-blaster rifle that had fallen to the deck when
Data fell. He examined the rifle more closely. It had setting displays which were
in English. The rifle was set to heavy stun, medium-width beam. Riker set the
weapon to setting eight, wide-beam. He holstered Geordi’s tricorder, and made
his way for the flight deck exit. Riker reached the exit, and pressed the
button on the side of the door. The door slid open. Riker stepped through the
doorway. Five stormtroopers were standing about twenty feet away, dragging
Chewbacca’s limp form down the corridor. When they heard the door slide open,
they whirled around to face Riker. They raised their blasters, and began firing.
Riker dropped to the deck, and fired the phaser-blaster rifle at the five
stormtroopers. The wide beam hit them all, and they collapsed to the deck. Their
white armor was blackened a little, and slightly melted. Riker walked up to
Chewbacca, and kicked the dead stormtroopers out of the way. He unholstered
his own tricorder, flipped it open, and scanned Chewbacca. Chewbacca was
merely stunned, not permanently injured, and he could be moved. Riker
holstered his tricorder, and began the task of dragging Chewbacca to the rest of
the group.
Ten minutes later, Riker managed to drag Chewbacca onto the flight deck,
and near where everyone else was lying. He then took out his tricorder, flipped it
open, and scanned everyone on the Enterprise team and the Star Wars team.
They were all stunned, nothing serious. They were all within five minutes of
coming to.
Riker scanned Data too. He was not seriously damaged. There was still
some damage from the explosion of the Operations console back at Feronium, but
most of the damage seemed to be repaired. A more thorough examination could
be conducted aboard the Enterprise.
Geordi began to wake up. Riker walked to Geordi’s side. He extended a
hand, and helped Geordi to his feet.

“Oh, man,” Geordi said groggily. He looked around. He noted all the
unconscious forms all around the area, and the rifle in Riker’s hand. “What
happened?”
“I can tell you back on the ship,” Riker said. “I managed to incapacitate
Data with your tricorder program. Worked perfectly.”
“Yeah, it looks like it,” Geordi said, looking at Data’s limp form. “We can
probably turn Data back on now. Whatever they did to him should be wiped out.”
“All right.” Riker gave Geordi his tricorder back. “If it doesn’t work, shut
him off.”
“Right.” Geordi flipped open his tricorder and began fiddling with it for a
little bit. “The program’s ready to go.”
“Very well.” Riker walked up to Data’s limp form. He kneeled onto the
floor, and raised Data’s back off the deck. He pressed the on-off button

Data came to life. He stood up immediately. He examined his
surroundings, then faced Riker, who was still kneeling on the floor. “Commander
Riker, this is intruiging. How did an explosion at the Operations console send us
to the Star Wars universe, sir?”
Riker smiled, as did Geordi. He stood up. “It’ll take a while to explain,
Mr. Data.” He paused. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Was I ever gone, sir?”
“Yes, you were. I can explain when we’re back on the Enterprise.
Meanwhile, we have to get off the Star Destroyer.”
“Excellent idea, sir.”
Beverly and Leia came around next. They stood up, and looked around
them. They stared at the weapon in Riker’s hand.
“The situation is under control,” Riker said. “All that’s left is for us to get
out of here.”
“I recommend we use the Millenium Falcon to escape,” Data said. “If we
do not, Captain Solo will not be pleased.”
“That’s for sure,” Leia said. “Although how are we going to get the doors
open?”
Riker looked at Geordi. “Geordi?”
“I can probably use the tricorder the open the doors up,” Geordi said. “I’ll
need Data’s help, though.”
“I will provide what assistance I can,” Data said.
Solo woke up and struggled to his feet. He examined his surroundings,
and looked harshly at Data. “Why you….”
“It’s all right,” Leia said, walking to Solo’s side. “He’s on our side now.”
She looked at Riker. “How did you get him back, anyway?” “It’s a long
story,” Riker said. “We have to get out of here, though. We could get company
any moment, and there’s no telling when Vader will wake up.”
Luke woke up. He got up and looked around. He looked down at
Chewbacca “He’s alive, but I wonder why he hasn’t woken up yet.” At that
moment, Chewbacca’s eyelids opened. He stood up with a roar. He looked at
Data and charged.
“Chewy!” Solo said. “Stop! He’s on our side now!”
Chewbacca stopped. He looked at Solo and roared.
“We have to get on the Falcon,” Riker said. He gave the phaser-blaster
rifle to Geordi. “Get those phasers out of there.”
“All right.” Geordi flipped open the top of the weapon, and took out the
phasers. “What do I do with them?”
“You take one. Give one to Solo and one to Chewbacca.” Geordi
holstered one of the phasers, handed one to Solo, and another to Chewbacca.
“Here you go.”
Riker took back the blaster and closed the top. “All right. Captain Solo
and Chewbacca, go open the Falcon.”
“All right,” Solo said. He examined the phaser. He couldn’t make sense
of the readouts. “How do I shoot this thing?”
“I’ll show you,” Riker said. “May I have the phaser?” “Sure,” Solo
said, handing the phaser to Riker.
Riker motioned for Solo to watch. He pointed at the large, white button
near the grip. “You press this with your thumb to fire the phaser.” He activated
the phaser safety, and pointed at the emitter. “This is where the beam comes
from.” He turned the safety off, and set the phaser to setting five, narrow-beam.
“It’s already set. All you need to do is aim and shoot.”
“Okay,” Solo said. “Chewy, let him set your phaser for you.”
Chewbacca gave a little grunt as he handed his phaser to Riker. Riker set the
phaser to setting five, narrow-beam. He handed it back to Chewbacca.
Solo and Chewbacca made their way for the Falcon, phasers at the ready.
When they reached the right side of the Falcon, Chewbacca reached under his
sash, and pulled out a remote control device. He punched a button on it, and a
ramp began to slide down. Chewbacca put the remote control back under his
sash.
“I didn’t know he had that thing,” Leia commented.
“The Imperials are overconfident and don’t search their prisoners much,”
Solo said. “Come on.”
Everyone ran up the ramp and into the Falcon. Solo entered last, and
punched a button on the wall next to the entrance. The ramp began to slide up.

“Master Luke!” Threepio’s voice exclaimed. Artoo and Threepio came
from around the hallway. “How nice it is to see you again!”
Artoo beeped his agreement.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Riker said. “Geordi and Data, get on it”
“Sir,” Data said, “perhaps one of the droids would be of greater assistance
to Geordi.”
Geordi unholstered his tricorder and flipped it open. He took off the top
of the tricorder. “Artoo can link with the tricorder through these access points,”
he said, pointing to three tiny holes that could be seen in the circuits.
Artoo extended an object with three short tubules from his midsection.
Geordi kneeled down and let Artoo put the tubules into the holes. Geordi looked
back at Riker. “This might take a while, sir.”
“Acknowledged.” He looked at Solo. “Perhaps you and Chewbacca can
go to the cockpit and get the ship ready to launch.”
Solo nodded. “Yeah. Chewbacca, come on.” Solo and Chewbacca
walked to the cockpit.
Leia smiled a little. “At least we’ll get rid of Vader when the flight deck
doors open.”
“I second that,” Beverly said.
“I do not believe that opening the flight deck doors will be sufficient to
kill Vader,” Data commented. “There is no telling what he can do with the Force.
He might be able to use it in this instance.” Artoo gave an excited series of
beeps. Geordi smiled. “Commander, we’re ready to open the flight deck doors.
We’ll open them on your command.”
“Stand by, Geordi,” Riker said. “Data, come with me to the cockpit.”
“Aye, sir,” Data replied.
Riker and Data walked to the cockpit. A door with alien script blocked
their path. Riker noticed a small button on the right side of the door. He pressed
it. The door slid open.
The cockpit was on the other side. Solo turned to look at Riker and Data.
“We’re ready to go when you are.”
“All right,” Riker said. He tapped his commbadge. “Riker to La Forge.”
“La Forge here. I assume you want me to open the doors?”
“Please. Riker out.”
Data stepped into the cockpit. He looked at all of the control panels. He
looked through the window. He could see the flight deck doors opening,
revealing hyperspace beyond.
“Going out into hyperspace!” Solo cried. “That’s crazy! There have been
more than a few ships destroyed by doing that!”
“The Empire will most likely execute us anyway,” Data said. “If we go
out into hyperspace from the Star Destroyer, if there is an accident, we will die
instantly. However, if the Empire kills us, we will most likely die slow, torturous
deaths.”
Chewbacca roared his agreement.
“Well, I suppose so,” Solo said. He put his hands on the controls. “This is
going to be pretty rough. You might want to hold on to something.”
“We’ll go back into the…” Riker paused. “What do you call it? It has that
table…”
“I call it the table area,” Solo said.
Riker nodded and grinned a little. “Okay.” He walked towards the table
area, with Data following him.
Riker and Data reached the table area. Everyone except for Solo and
Chewbacca was there already.
Threepio was shaking his head. “Going out there while this Star Destroyer
is in hyperspace… it’s madness!”
Artoo gave a taunting series of beeps and squeals.
“Of course, you wouldn’t be afraid, now would you? You astro droids are
so eccentric, your logic is almost impossible to comprehend.” Riker went
around the room and made sure everyone was braced properly, and then he
braced himself. “It’s going to be rough. Hold on tight.” “Of course it’s going
to be rough!” Threepio said. “We-” “Threepio, quiet,” Luke said.
Threepio shook his head, but kept quiet.
The Falcon began shaking. After several seconds, the ship quaked
fiercely. Everyone was thrown to the deck.

CHAPTER FIVE

Captain Jean-Luc Picard struggled back into the command chair. The
Enterprise had collided with something, then the fierce shaking started. The
bridge had emergency power only. “Mr. Worf, report!”
“The object we hit appeared out of nowhere,” Worf reported. He
examined the readings on the tactical console. “Sir, another gravitic distortion
appeared just before we were hit.” He paused. “It had the exact configuration of
the Millenium Falcon.”
“Hail them,” Picard ordered.
“Communications are off-line,” Worf said.
Picard got out of the command chair. “Damage report.” “Our
navigational shields are gone. Major damage to decks fifteen through
twenty-seven. Minor damage to all other decks. Phasers are off-line.
Life-support systems are at eighty-two percent. Warp and impulse drives are
off-line. Transporters are gone. Tractor beams are disabled.” Picard stared
at the main viewer. It showed a small speck in space in the top-left corner.
“What is that?”
“The Millenium Falcon,” Worf said. “It is badly damaged.”
“Magnify, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Viers at Operations said. She tapped a few buttons,
and the small speck enlarged into the Millenium Falcon. It had black marks all
over its hull, and small amounts of debris floated around it. Picard
scowled. “Are there any life-signs?”
Viers checked her console. “Eight life-signs, sir. Included in that is one
artificial life-form.”
“Data,” Worf said. “However, some people did not survive. A minimum
of three people died.”
Picard faced Worf. “Lieutenant, get a shuttle over there to get the
survivors off the Falcon.”
“Aye, sir,” Worf acknowledged. “Lieutenant Viers, you are to accompany
me.”
Viers smiled. “With pleasure, sir.” She vacated the Ops console, and
walked with Worf into the turbolift. The doors slid shut.
Picard turned to the officer who now manned the Ops console, Ensign
Mennan. “Inform me if there is any change in life-signs.”
“Yes, Captain,” Mennan said.
Picard sat back down in the command chair. “Mr. MacDonald, monitor
sensor range for Imperial vessels, or gravitic distortions that would signify a
vessel in hyperspace.”
“Aye, sir.”

Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge woke up. He couldn’t see, and he
didn’t have the headache that resulted when he had his VISOR; his VISOR had
been knocked off his face. He felt around the immediate area for his VISOR. He
found it about a meter away from him. He put it on. He examined the area
around him. Commander Riker, Doctor Crusher, and Princess Leia were
unconscious. Data was nowhere to be seen. Luke Skywalker was examining the
droids, Threepio and Artoo. Geordi could tell that the droids were
non-functional.
Geordi struggled to his feet. He felt waves of nausea, but he fought them
off. He didn’t manage to fight off the migraine that he felt at the moment. It was
even worse than normal; he must have had a head injury.
Geordi began walking towards Luke when he felt that the Falcon was
tilted at an odd angle, and was swaying slightly. He also head a low whistle.
There was a small hull breach somewhere, and air was being sucked into space
rapidly. He looked around for the hull breach. There was one small hull breach,
about three milimeters in diameter, in the ceiling. He could see the air leaving at
a frantic pace. He estimated that whoever survived the accident, with the
exception of Data, had about five hours to live if this was the extent of the
damage. If there were other problems, they might have even less than that.
Luke looked at Geordi. “Data went into the cockpit to check on Han and
Chewy. The droids are gone. Everyone else is unconscious.” Geordi
nodded, and then realized that the gesture would be hard to see in the darkness.
With the VISOR, the darkness didn’t matter, but to Luke, it would. “I’m going to
scan the ship and try to see how much damage we have.”
“All right. Tell me if you need anything.”
“Okay.” Geordi unholstered his tricorder, which thankfully wasn’t
damaged in the collision. He flipped it open, and began scanning. The
hyperdrive was knocked completely off-line; it would take hours to fix it. The
navigational deflector was disabled. The shield generators were useless. The
stabilizers were only partially operational. Thankfully, he detected two humanoid
life-signs in the cockpit, one human and one Wookie. Solo and Chewbacca were
unconscious, but alive.
Data walked into the table area. He strode up to Geordi. “Captain Solo
and Chewbacca do not have any serious injuries. They are unconscious, however.
The object we collided with in hyperspace was the Enterprise. It is one thousand
kilometers away from us. A shuttlecraft is coming to get us.”
“Good,” Geordi said. “Everyone except you has about five hours left if we
stay in this thing.”
“The shuttlecraft will arrive in five minutes.” Data gestured to where the
hull breach was. “Is there any other life-threatening damage?” “Not that I
know of,” Geordi said. “It looks like the life-support system survived.”
Luke stood up and approached them. “How long will repairs take, or is
the Falcon beyond hope?”
Geordi sighed. “It’ll take days to fix, but this ship’ll fly again. It all
depends on how much damage the Enterprise has.”
Their commbadges chirped. “Shuttlecraft Galileo to away team,” Worf’s
voice said.
Data slapped his commbadge. “Data here, Lieutenant.” “We are two
minutes from the Millenium Falcon,” Worf said. “We are detecting the
commbadges of Commander Riker, you, Commander La Forge, Doctor Crusher,
and Captain Solo. I take it that Hines, McKenzie, and Sheer did not survive.”
“That is correct,” Data replied. “What is the status of the Enterprise?”
“It is severely damaged, sir. It will take days to complete the repairs that
Engineering can do away from dry-dock.”
“Understood. You will take one minute to enter the range of the shuttle
escape transporter. We will prepare for beam out.”
Geordi walked up to the droids, and scanned them with his tricorder. “It
looks like we might be able to salvage these.” Geordi holstered his tricorder, and
put his hands on the Artoo and Threepio. “I’ll have to touch them so that they’re
beamed out.”
“What about us?” Luke asked. “Only Han has a commbadge…” “The
transporter will lock on to your life-signs,” Data said. He walked into the cockpit.
“We are ready,” Worf’s voice sounded from Geordi’s commbadge.
“Energizing transporter.”
Geordi felt the familiar tingling sensation of a transporter. A field of blue
particles clouded his vision, and then he was inside the shuttlecraft.
“Laying in a course for the Enterprise,” Worf said. “We will arrive in six
minutes.”
“Five minutes and forty nine seconds,” Data said.

Picard stood up as Data and Worf entered thr bridge. They manned their
respective stations.
“Sheer, McKenzie, and Hines are dead, sir,” Data said matter-of-factly.
“The others?” Picard asked.
“No serious injuries. They are unconcscious, and are being treated in
sickbay.”
Picard sat back down, and activated the intercom. “Bridge to
Engineering.”
“La Forge here,” Geordi’s voice replied.
“Damage report on the Falcon, then on the Enterprise.” “Well, the
Falcon is beat up pretty bad. Almost nothing works. It’ll take days to repair. The
Enterprise isn’t much better. Our navigational shields are gone. Major damage to
decks fifteen through twenty-seven. Minor damage to all other decks. Phasers
are off-line. Life-support systems are at eighty-two percent. Warp and impulse
drives are off-line. Transporters are gone. Tractor beams are disabled.”
“In other words, the same as before,” Picard grumbled. “How long do you
estimate repairs will take?”
“The repairs that we can do will be done in a week,” Geordi stated.
“Very well. Bridge out.” Picard looked up at Worf. “We can’t be a sitting
duck in hostile territory. Contact the Rebellion, and arrange some protection.”
“Yes, Captain,” Worf said, getting to work at the tactical console. The
turbolift doors opened. Commander Riker strode out of the turbolift, and sat to
the captain’s right. He looked rather weary. “Are you all right, Number One?”
Picard asked.
“I’m fine,” Riker replied. “Just a little headache.” “Sir,” Worf said, “the
Rebellion will send five ships to protect us. They cannot spare any more.”
“That should suffice,” Picard said. “Meanwhile, if sensors detect anything
Imperial, I want to know about it.” He stood up. “Number One, you have the
bridge.” He strode into the ready room.

Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge waved the flux resonator coil
over the electro-plasma conduit. Over thirty-two percent of the EPS conduits on
the Enterprise awaited repair. It would take hours to fix them all. What was
worse was that the engineering and damage control teams were divided into
different areas of the ship. That made the job ten times more difficult.
“Commander!” Lieutenant Reginald Barclay’s voice called down the
Jeffries tube. “The EPS conduits in this section are all repaired! Power can be
restored to the conduits!”
Geordi shut off his repair tool and put it back in his engineering kit. He
checked his engineering tricorder to verify Barclay’s statement, then slapped his
commbadge. “La Forge to Engineering.”
“La Pore here, sir.”
“Lieutenant, restore power to conduits 3-JCL, 4-JCL, 5-JCL, 6-JCL,
7-JCL, and 8-JCL,” Geordi ordered.
“Okay, Commander,” La Pore said. “Power will be restored in one
minute.”
“Good. La Forge out.” Geordi put a cover on the section of conduit he
was working on. He checked the repair checklist on his engineering tricorder.
Next, he and Barlcay were scheduled to begin repairs on the main phaser array.
He holstered the tricorder, and called down the tube. “Reg, next stop is the main
phaser array!”
“Okay!” Barclay came crawling towards Geordi a few moments later.
After that, Geordi and Barclay headed towards their destination.
Darth Vader strode onto the bridge of the Gunterge. He was not pleased.
He had narrowly averted death using the Force, and the Millenium Falcon had
escaped.

Captain Jafar approached Vader and saluted. “What may I do for you, my
lord?”
Vader aimed his right hand at Jafar, and made a fist. Jafar’s eyes widened,
and he started making gurgling sounds. Blood started flowing from his mouth,
eyes, nose, and ears. His skin turned a bright red. Suddenly, his head exploded,
sending blood all over the place. Jafar’s body fell to the deck.
Vader looked at the blood spots all over his arms. He would have to have
those cleaned off. That would have to wait, though. He looked at the crew
members on the bridge. They were all looking at Vader, surprise and shock on
their faces.

“All right,” Commander Hielen called, walking up to the command deck
of the bridge. “Back to work!”
The crew members stared for a moment, then returned to their duties.
Hielen strode up to Vader. “I’m sorry about that, Lord Vader.” “No need for
apologies, Captain,” Vader said. He motioned for two stormtroopers to come.
“Dispose of that,” he said, pointing to Jafar’s remains.
“Yes, sir,” the two stormtroopers said in unison. They dragged Jafar’s
body out of the bridge.
“What do we do now?” Hielen asked.
“Lay in a course for the Enterprise,” Vader said.
“Sir, we will have to drop out of hyperspace to determine where the
Enterprise is,” Hielen commented. “Even then, we have no way of knowing if it
will be in sensor range.”
“Then we will have to take that chance,” Vader said.
“Very well.” Hielen walked to the front of the bridge beside the windows.
“Drop out of hyperspace!”
The view of normal space filled the windows. Satisfied, Hielen yelled,
“Locate the Enterprise!”
After several minutes, Lieutenant Commander JaKwin reported, “The
Enterprise has been found! It is two light years away!”
“Excellent! Lay in and intercept course, and engage hyperdrive!”
Lieutenant Worf looked at his tactical console, alarmed. The Imperial
vessel that was running away from them turned around and laid in an intercept
course. He tapped his commbadge. “Worf to Captain Picard.” “Picard here.
Report, Mr. Worf.”
“The Gunterge is now on an intercept course. It will arrive in one hour”
“Understood. Picard out.” A few moments later, Picard exited the ready
room. He sat down in the command chair when Riker moved to the first officer’s
seat. “Go to red alert.”
The red alert sirens sounded and the condition lights flashed a bright red.
Crew members rushed to their battlestations.
Picard punched on the intercom. “Engineering, the Enterprise needs to be
ready for battle in an hour.”
“What?” La Forge’s voice said. “I’ll put a priority on repairing the
defensive systems, but I don’t think we’ll be able to fight off a Romulan
Bird-of-Prey in an hour.”
“Make every effort, Commander La Forge. Picard out.” He paused for a
moment, then said, “Sickbay, we’re going into battle in an hour. Expect heavy
casualties.”
“Jean-Luc, are you nuts!?” Crusher shouted. “I don’t have enough room in
sickbay for one thousand twelve people!”
“You’re exaggerating, Doctor,” Picard said, annoyed. “We really don’t
have any choice. Picard out!” Picard got out of the command chair and faced
Worf. “Get me the Gunterge on speakers!”
“Hailing, sir,” Worf said. “No response.” Then, Worf raised an eyebrow
“Five ships coming out of hyperspace ahead of us, sir.” “On screen,” Picard
said, whirling around to face the main viewer. Five Mon Calamari attack frigates
appeared. Picard gave a sigh of relief. “Hail them.”
The speakers crackled. “This is Admiral Ackbar, commanding the Rebel
fleet. Captain Picard, you requested assistance.”
“Yes, we did,” Picard replied. “Thank you. We’re glad you came. Our
sensors detect a Star Destroyer that is one hour away from this position. In our
condition, we’d be easy prey.”
“I understand, Picard. We will assume a standard defensive formation
around your vessel.”
“Very well, Admiral. Picard out.” Picard sat back down in the command
chair and watched the ships moving on the main viewer.
Counselor Troi looked at the captain, concerned. “You’re nervous.”
Picard looked at Troi. “Counselor, has anyone ever told you that you have
an absolutely uncanny ability to point out the painfully obvious?” Riker burst
out laughing. Worf chucked to himself. The ensign at the conn cracked up. Troi
looked hurt. “Captain, I’ll take that as a result of your chronic insecurity.”
The laughter on the bridge reached record levels. “Counselor, I’ll take
your serious insubordination as a side effect of your period.” Troi’s mouth
hung open, and she gasped in shock. Picard grinned. Everyone else except Data
and Worf was on the deck laughing their heads off. Data sat at the Ops console,
unaffected. Worf stood at the tactical console, a small smile on his lips.
“Captain,” Riker managed to say, “when did you take up comedy?”
“I didn’t,” Picard said.
Troi got an angry expression on her face. “I suppose that I’m acting this
way because the light reflected off your head messes up my brain.” Riker
and the conn officer laughed so hard that their sides hurt. Tears poured from
Riker’s eyes. Picard leapt to his feet. He glanced angrily at the bridge crew.
“SHUT UP!”

The bridge crew quieted and manned their stations.
Picard turned back to Troi. “You may be right, Cadet.” He slapped his
commbadge. “Picard to Crusher.”
“Crusher here.”
“Miss Troi seems to have a head injury,” Picard said. “Send someone up
to get Troi immediately.”
Beverly paused. “Uh… okay, Captain. I’ll come and get her.” “Thank
you, Doctor. Picard out.” He sat back down in the command chair A few
moments later, Beverly emerged from the turbolift. She walked up to Troi’s seat.
“Come on, Deanna.”
Troi got up reluctantly. She began following Beverly to the turbolift.
Data swiftly turned around. “Captain, Counselor, I believe I know what
caused your arguement.”
“What?” Picard asked, a skeptical expression on his face. “The Force,
sir,” Data said. “Specifically, Darth Vader using the Force”
“How can you be so sure?” Troi asked, doubtful.
“During my time on the Imperial Star Destroyer, I have grown to
recognize times when the Force is in use. I have specifically identified Vader’s
‘Force signature,’ if you will. He is trying to create negative feelings between
crew members aboard the Enterprise.”
“We cannot allow that,” Picard stated. He searched his mind and feelings
for things that weren’t his own. He wasn’t successful, but soon, he found his
anger with Troi begin to subside. “The Force does not work against strong
minds.” He turned on the intercom. “Picard to crew. You may be feeling anger
or resentment against your co-workers that formed only a few moments ago. That
is the result of Darth Vader meddling with the Force. Try to fight it. The Force
only works on weak minds. Picard out.”
“Do I still have to take Deanna to sickbay?” Beverly asked. “No,
Doctor,” Picard said. “Counselor, resume your duties.” “Thank you, Captain,”
Beverly and Troi said in unison. Beverly walked into the turbolift, while Troi sat
back down.

Captain’s log, stardate 44220.4. An Imperial Star Destroyer, the Gunterge,
is on a course for the Enterprise. The ship is seriously crippled, and is no match
for the Star Destroyer. Thankfully, five Mon Calamari attack frigates from the
Rebellion are here to protect us. The Imperials will arrive in fifteen minutes.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard paced the bridge, while talking to Geordi over his
commbadge. “Can we fire photon torpedoes?”
“Not now, Captain,” Geordi replied. “Phasers are at only two percent
power, and can fire only five shots, if that.”
Picard scowled. “How about the shields?”
“I’ve got the navigational shields up to thirty-two percent.” “Keep
working on it, Mr. La Forge. Picard out.” He sat down in the command chair.
“Mr. Data, ETA?”
“Five minutes, sir,” Data reported.
“Shouldn’t those Rebel ships be more than a match for a lone Star
Destroyer?” Riker asked.
“Should be, Number One, should be,” Picard said. “Mr. Worf, arm
phasers”
“Arming phasers, Captain,” Worf acknowledged.
Picard drummed his fingers on the armrests as he waited for the Imperial
vessel to come. It seemed to take an eternity.
“The Imperial Star Destroyer has entered weapons range,” Worf said. “It
is coming out of hyperspace.”
“Lock phasers,” Picard ordered.
“Phasers locked,” Worf said.
“Put the vessel on screen.”
The Gunterge appeared on the screen moments later. TIE Fighters and
TIE Advanced craft could be seen coming out of the Gunterge’s landing deck.
They were heading towards the Enterprise.
“The Mon Calamari are launching fighters,” Worf said. “They are
engaging the TIEs.”
The Mon Calamari attack frigates formed a web around Enterprise. The
Star Destroyer began firing turbolasers and proton torpedoes at the frigates. The
Mon Calamari returned fire.
“Let’s make this easier for them,” Picard said. “Mr. Worf, target the
Gunterge’s bridge shield generators. Fire two phaser blasts.” “Aye, sir.”
Two red energy beams lanced out from the Enterprise. They struck the
shield generators. The shields turned a bright purple for a few moments, then
returned to colorlessness.
“Status of the Imperials’ shields?” Picard asked.
“They are reduced, but they are holding,” Worf replied. The Enterprise
shook a few times. Picard looked up at Worf. “What happened?”
“Four proton torpedoes hit us. Our navigational deflectors are down to ten
percent.”
Picard looked back at the main viewer. “Fire our remaining three phaser
blasts at those shield generators, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Three phaser blasts struck the Star Destroyer’s bridge shield generators
The shields buckled.
“Tell the Mon Calamari to focus on those shield generators!” Picad
ordered.
The attack frigates targeted their turbolasers and proton torpedoes on the
shield generators. Several A-Wings fired concussion missiles at the generators.
The generators exploded.
“That’s it!” Riker exclaimed, excited.
A proton torpedo struck the Gunterge’s bridge. The bridge exploded. The
Star Destroyer sat still in space, and ceased firing. The Mon Calamari continued
to pummel the Gunterge. Only a few fighters remained. Most had been
destroyed in the crossfire. The Mon Calamari advanced towards the Star
Destroyer, abandoning the defensive web.
“The Mon Calamari inform us that the defensive web is no longer
necessary,” Worf said. “The Star Destroyer is within moments of being
destroyed.”
“Excellent,” Picard commented. He eagerly watched the events on the
main viewer. The Mon Calamari continued firing at the Star Destroyer. The
Gunterge began firing again, but it was too late. It imploded, taking three Mon
Calamari ships and the remaining fighters with it. Wait… except for one fighter.
It was heading away from the fleet at top speed. “What is that?” Picard
demanded.
“It looks like an Imperial craft,” Worf said.

Picard got out of his command chair and stared at the main viewer. The
craft disappeared.
“It has entered hyperspace, Captain,” Worf said.
Data turned around to face Picard. “Sir, Darth Vader was on that craft.
He has escaped.”
Picard sighed. “Understood,” he said, resigned. “Mr. Worf, get me
Admiral Ackbar.”
The speakers crackled. “Captain Picard, it appears that Darth Vader has
escaped.”
“It appears so, Admiral,” Picard answered. “Thank you for protecting the
Enterprise. Extend our gratitude to Mon Mothma.”
“I will be sure to do so, Captain. We will stay here until you are able to
defend yourselves.”
“That is appreciated, Admiral. Picard out.”

EPILOGUE

Captain’s log, stardate 44226.7. The Enterprise and the Millenium Falcon
have been repaired. The droids Artoo and Threepio are functioning again. The
Mon Calamari attack frigates have left us. There has been no sign of Imperial
activity in the area for days. Now that we are repaired, we will return to our point
of origin and try to figure out how to get back into our universe. First, though, we
must say good-bye to some special friends.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard grasped Han Solo’s hand firmly. “It was a
pleasure knowing you, Captain Solo.”
“I feel the same way,” Solo said. He smiled. “Anytime you need to take
shore leave… you know where to find me.”
Picard smiled. “I’ll have to remember that. This could prove to be an
interesting shore leave stop.” He paused. “Take care of yourself, Captain.”
“You too.” Solo withdrew his hand. “It has been an interesting
experience.”
“Yes, it has.”
“I’m sure that you’re in a hurry to get home now. Good-bye, Captain
Picard.” Solo began to walk towards the observation lounge exit. “Captain!”
Picard called.
Solo turned to face Picard, a puzzled expression on his face.
“May the Force be with you,” Picard said warmly.
Solo smiled. “What’s that one expression popular in your universe?
Ummm… have a nice day.”
Picard smiled as Solo exited the room.

Captain’s log, supplemental. The Enterprise has arrived at the spot where
we entered the Star Wars universe. Right now, Commanders Data and La Forge
are trying to figure out how to get us back.

Lieutenant Commander Data checked his Ops console one last time.
Satisfied that he had the answer, he turned around to face Captain Picard. “Sir, I
have the answer.”
“Let’s hear it,” Riker said.
“There are residual tryolic waves in the vicinity. I believe that the shock
wave, which had a large amount of tryolic energy, sent us through some sort of
‘tryolic wormhole’ into the Star Wars universe.” “As a result, we were swept
away before the shock wave could do any real damage,” Riker commented.
“Precisely,” Data answered.
“How do we form another tryolic wormhole?” Picard asked. “One
phaser burst should suffice.”
“All right. Mr. Worf, arm phasers and raise shields.” “Shields up,
phasers ready,” Worf acknowledged.
Picard looked at the main viewer. “Fire phasers.”
One red energy beam lanced out from the Enterprise into the space in
front of them. A wormhole opened, brighting up the surrounding area with a
pretty silvery-blue light. Picard stared down the blue passageway, awestruck.
“Course for the Federation ready and laid in, sir,” Ensign Wesley Crusher
said happily.
Picard smiled. He pointed ahead. “Engage!”
The Enterprise flew into the tryolic wormhole.

Captain Williams looked at Admiral Jordan on the main viewer. He
shook his head. “We found no escape pods. There are no survivors from the
destroyed ships.”
Jordan sighed. “Very well-”
“Captain!” Lieutenant Commander Black called. “Sensors are detecting a
large amount of tryolic activity at coordinates nine nine nine mark three!”
“The Enterprise’s last known position,” Commander McGrady said.
“On screen!” Williams shouted.
Jordan’s image was replaced by that of a silvery-blue wormhole. The
U.SS. Enterprise NCC-1701-D sailed out of that wormhole. Williams grinned.
Cheers erupted throughout the bridge.
“Should I hail them, sir?” Black asked happily.
“You bet,” Williams said.

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Worf said, “The Ariel is contacting us,
sir.”
“On screen, Mr. Worf,” Picard said.
Captain Williams appeared on the main viewer. He was grinning broadly.
“Captain Picard, what the hell happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Picard said. “Suffice it to say, we’re glad to be back.”

Next time, on Star Trek: The Next Generation:

You thought that the Federation ditched the Garthusians in The Brigade of the
Doomed, Part 1. You were dead wrong. Now, the Garthusians are back, and
stronger than ever. Meanwhile, another mystery puzzles Starfleet. Why did the
Romulans fire on the Enterprise during the Battle of Feronium? Captain Picard
and the crew of the Starship Enterprise endevour to find out, and has to contend
with the Garthusians at the same time… Will they solve the mystery? Will the
Enterprise be destroyed? Will the Federation collapse under the Garthusian
Empire’s weight? Stay tuned…

Also, check out this Star Trek: The Next Generation story:
The Starship Enterprise is exploring an uncharted region of space called The
Seraris Regions. At first, it’s all “ooh, ahh,” but then reality sets in. The Starship
Enterprise encounters a deadly race of aliens, who are bent on destroying them
and the Federation. Will the Federation manage to repel these aggressors, or will
it fade into the midsts of history? Read and find out!

The Brigade of the Doomed is copyright Jason Vines, 1997.
Star Trek: The Next Generation is owned by Paramount Pictures. Star Wars is
owned by LucasFilm Limited.
My e-mail: Dbald56576@aol.com My web site:

http://members.aol.com/dbald56576/trek.html

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