Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights: Paragon’s Path

shelly@camcomp.com

Disclaimer: Paramount is God, they own everything to Voyager, except for
what I do to
the series and add to it. Like, I guess, the new Voyager ships are mine
for the time being.
.
Well, I finally did it. I started the second episode. Boy am I proud of
myself. You should
be too. I’m not really quite sure what’s going to happen in this
episode, so we shall see . . .

Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights
Episode Two, Part One
Paragon’s Path
By: Sforzando (a.k.a. Sforzie)

“Do you have everything packed?” Kathryn asked. She appeared
from the closet.
Chakotay was going through his bag.
“I think so,” he said, looking up, “boy, you look hot.”
“I am,” Kathryn uttered, ignoring the double meaning he was
implying, “I’ll be so glad
to go back somewhere cold.” Chakotay chuckled.
“You would have said just the opposite two weeks ago,” he
commented. Kathryn
laughed too, disappearing into the bathroom.
“So where are we headed now?” she called.
“To the lobby to check out,” said Chakotay.
“Ha ha,” Kathryn said, “very funny. I mean after we leave here?”
“You don’t remember?” Chakotay asked, peeking into the closet.
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” Kathryn sighed.
“We’re going to the Highwater Earth Shipyard,” Chakotay said, “to
take a look at-”
“At the Voyager-C! That’s right, I forgot!” Kathryn bobbed out
of the bathroom.
She sat down on a bed. “What are the other Intrepids?”
“Lets see,” Chakotay looked thoughtful, “last time I checked in,
the other eight
were all in the Gamma Quadrant, except for the Onyx. The others are the
Ibis, Falcon,
Range, Nile, Camden, Kindle, and…” he paused, stumped as to the name of
the last.
“What’s the last one?” Kathryn asked.
“I’m not sure,” Chakotay said, “hmm, maybe the Raven? No…”
“Well, don’t hurt yourself thinking about it,” Kathryn quipped,
as she stood up and
made a final check of their room.

“Oh, leaving so soon?” Neelix sounded truly hurt as Kathryn and
Chakotay stood
in the lobby a short while later.
“I’m afraid so Neelix,” said Chakotay, “we’ve been here two
weeks.”
“Oh, well, I understand if you have to be getting back to your job,”
Neelix burbled,
“did you two enjoy yourselves?”
“Immensely,” Kathryn said. Neelix grinned.
“That’s always good to hear,” he delcared, “well, I hope you’ll
come back down to
visit some time?”
“Of course we will Neelix,” Chakotay said.
“That’s good,” Neelix commented again.
“Say good-bye to Ariee for us,” Kathryn said.
“I will,” Neelix promised, “do you need any help with your things?”
“No, we can manage,” Chakotay said.
“Well, have a safe trip!”

“I didn’t think he was going to let us leave,” Kathryn said, as they
sat on a tram a few
minutes later.
“Neither did I,” sighed Chakotay, “so, did you enjoy yourself these
past few weeks?”
“Immensely,” Janeway said.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Chakotay said.
“You should have been able to figure that out for yourself,” Kathryn
mentioned, sighing
ruefully, “I’ve gained seven pounds.”
“That’s good,” Chakotay goaded her.
“Good?!”
“Yeah,” Chakotay laughed, “you needed it. Two weeks ago you looked
terrible.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Kathryn near sneered.
“You’re nearly as tan as I am,” Chakotay said. Kathryn snorted.
“They’d never recognize me,” she said sarcastically, “I could show up
at Starfleet
headquarters and they’d call security on me.”
“They’d probably do that anyway,” Chakotay teased.
“So what exactly are we going to do when we get to the shipyard?”
Kathryn asked.
“I think we’re scheduled to go on a tour of the Voyager- C, and meet
the command
team,” Chakotay said, “they really didn’t say much this morning when I
called.”
“Interesting,” Kathryn looked thoughtfully out the window, “I wonder
what upgrades
they’ve added?”
“All I know is something from a rumor, saying that B’Elanna Torres
either designed the
engine room or she’s the Chief Engineer,” Chakotay said, “and that the top
speed is 9.983.”
“Really?” Kathryn asked.
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Chakotay told her, “that might be why
they’ve went through
three captains in the past four months.”
“Three?”
“I think B’Elanna scared them off,” Chakotay said. Kathryn grinned.
“This should be interesting.”

Kathryn Janeway’s breath caught in her throat as she got her first
real look at the
Voyager-C. She followed Chakotay down the paths that led to the main
storage building. The
hall they entered was glass plated, allowing visual access to what lay on
the other side. Energy
fields kept the ship poised somewhat precariously over the ground. She
(the ship) was tethered
only in the rear. Janeway swallowed, looking around. Somehow, she felt
out of place.
“Come on,” Chakotay said.
“I’m coming, ” Janeway said, picking up her pace a bit. They walked
down a hall that led
them closer to the Voyager. Chakotay stopped at a door near the end of the
hall, and rang the
chime.
“Come in,” a gravely voice came over the intercom. Janeway followed
Chakotay into the
room.
“Admiral Shifferon? I’m Commander Chakotay,” Chakotay offered his
hand to the man
sitting behind a desk, up to his elbows in padds.
“Ah, yes, Commander Chakotay,” Shifferon shook Chakotay’s hand, “so
good to see you
again. Might I assume this is Admiral Janeway?”
“Yes,” Janeway said, a bit timid.
“Didn’t recognize ya,” Shifferon apoligized. Janeway heard Chakotay
stifle a laugh.
“You look different from you picture in the archives.”
“I mean to get it updated,” Janeway shook Shifferon’s hand.
“Yes, the most famous Starfleet captain of our time,” he said.
Janeway blushed.
“Really, Admiral.”
“Call me Gene,” Shifferon said.
“Alright, Gene,” Janeway complied, “just don’t call me Kathryn.”
Shifferon grinned,
winking at Chakotay.
“You picked a good one.” Chakotay was smiling.
“So,” Shifferon said, “would you like to start your tour of the
Voyager?”
“I’d be glad to,” Janeway smiled. Shifferon nodded.
“Just go down to the boarding level, tell Mike I sent ya,” he said.
The other two nodded,
and left the room hastily.
“He was a bit different,” Janeway said.
“Aren’t we all?” Chakotay grinned at her.

“Hello Admiral, Commander,” a scrawny-looking Lieutenant greeted them
as they
approached, “Admiral Shifferon said you were on your way.”
“You’re Mike?” Janeway asked.
“Micelle Jennon, at your service,” the Bajoran woman said, smiling,
“my name usually
throws people off, don’t feel bad. I’m your tour guide, I suppose. Not
that I like the title.”
“You have better things to do?” Janeway asked.
“Actually, I’d rather escort one of the most famous people on Earth
around my ship than
clean transporter buffers any day,” Jennon admitted.
“I know how you feel,” Chakotay said. Jennon grinned.
“Shall we get started?”
“Why not?” Janeway said, “lead the way.”
“We’re going to start in Engineering, and go through the rest of the
main departments,”
Jennon said, “there are 16 decks total, and she’s almost 400 meters long.”
Chakotay whistled.

About an hour and half later, when Janeway stepped onto the Bridge,
she felt a pang. The
layout was so similar to that of the old Voyager, that if she imagined, she
could almost see Harry
Kim standing at Ops, in stead of a Vulcan woman. Scanning the Bridge, she
did, however notice
one familiar face.
“B’Elanna?” Janeway called questioningly. The dark haired woman
crouched over a panel
looked up.
“Captain?” Torres said, grinning, “oh, I mean, Admiral. Is that
really you?” B’Elanna
Torres looked the same as she had a year ago on Voyager.
“Yeah, and I brought Chakotay too,” Janeway said, turning to find
Chakotay, who had
wandered to look at a panel.
“Chakotay?” Torres still moved quickly, she was face to face with
Janeway in a matter of
seconds. “You left the Maquis?”
“You stayed with Starfleet?” Chakotay said tauntingly, arriving at
Janeway’s shoulder.
“Oh, wow, they made you a Commander,” Torres grinned.
“And you scolded me for not talking to you,” Janeway sighed to
Chakotay.
“Why haven’t you contacted me? I haven’t heard from him in almost
three months,”
Torres complained, motioning to Chakotay. She eyed Janeway and Chakotay.
“You left Tom?”
“How could you tell?” Janeway asked, smiling lightly.
“You look happy,” Torres said, absently, “we knew it wouldn’t last
long.”
“That’s what Vince Carrey said when we ran into him the other day,”
Chakotay remarked.
“So you two are…”
“You could say that,” Chakotay grinned.
“How’d Tom take it?” Torres asked Janeway.
“How does Tom take anything? He’s jealous, and thinks I left him for
Chakotay,”
Janeway said.
“Which is ridiculous.”
“Yes, because I hadn’t talked to Chakotay in almost half a year when
Tom and I got a
divorce,” Janeway said, then shrugged, “but he can think what he wants to.”
“So what are you two doing here?” Torres asked. The three were
receiving curious
glances from the crew that were working on the Bridge. Jennon was standing
a bit nervously near
the turbolift.
“Um, Admiral?” the Bajoran piped up, “I’m pretty much done showing you
around. If
you’d like, I’m such Lt. Torres could show you to the officer’s mess.”
Janeway nodded.
“Yes, thank you very much for showing us around,” she said. Jennon
nodded.
“So, why are you here, Torres?”
“I thought I asked you,” Torres smiled.
“You go first,” Janeway said, following Torres to the turbolift,
Chakotay trailing behind
them silently.
“Well, after we got back, I decided to remain in Starfleet,” Torres
said, “and I was offered
the job as chief Engineer on this ship. I couldn’t refuse really.”
“What about Harry?”Janeway asked.
“Well, we’re doing pretty good, but right now he’s stationed by the
Bajoran wormhole, on
Deep Space Nine,” Torres said, “once we get out of dock, which could be a
while, I’m making
plans to visit him.”
“Why could it be awhile before you leave dock?” Chakotay asked.
“Well, you can’t have a ship without a Captain,” Torres smirked, “I
seem to be the one to
blame for losing the latest one.”
“How’s that?”
“He didn’t seem to have the patience to deal with a half- Klingon
engineer,” Torres
scowled, “mainly he was biased against Klingons. So I kind of gave him a
few more reasons to
leave. I wasn’t very cooperative.” Janeway smiled, nodding.
“I heard Lt. Jennon call you Lt. Torres,” she said, “but things seem
to say differently.”
“She calls me that to get on my nerves,” Torres shook her head, “I
think she had a crush
on the Captain and is mad at me for scaring him off. But yes, I am
certified as Lieutenant
Commander B’Elanna Torres-Kim.”
“Has a nice ring to it,” Chakotay grinned.
“So would Admiral Kathryn Janeway-Chakotay,” Torres teased, almost
sticking her
tongue out at him.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Janeway said. The turbolift stopped, and
Torres led the way to the
officer’s mess.
“Are you hungry?” Torres asked.
“Actually yes, we missed lunch,” Janeway said, after looking at
Chakotay.
“Well, one of the better things about being back in the Alpha Quadrant
is unlimited
replicator usage,” Torres admitted.
“Hmm, I always thought the rations were better, made you guys more
responsible,”
Janeway said, smiling. “You know what, Neelix works at the hotel we stayed
at.”
“Really? Can he cook any better?” Torres asked, going up to a
replicator, “grilled cheese
on rye.”
“Grilled cheese on rye?” Chakotay said questioningly.
“Yeah, Harry introduced me to it,” Torres grinned. “And well,
pregnancy has a tendency
to make women crave strange foods.”
“You’re pregnant?” Chakotay asked. Torres smiled.
“Three months.”
“I didn’t notice,” Janeway said, “you eat grilled cheese but no gahk?”
“Please,” Torres snorted, “I’m not that pregnant.” Janeway grinned,
and ordered a pasta
dish.
“So B’Elanna, ” Janeway said, as they waited for Chakotay, “one thing
I didn’t ask when
we were being showed around was about the doctor…”
“You mean the holographic doctor,” Torres interjected, “well actually
its a long story.
After Voyager returned to the Alpha Quad, and the new Voyager was designed,
we still had the
Doctor running in the old Voyager.”
“Before she was decommissioned,” Janeway added.
“Yeah,” Torres sighed, “the Doctor himself actually asked me, *me*, to
save him. So I
lead a research team on how to expand the buffers in the Doctors program so
he could run
constantly if he wished. We were successful, and the Doctor’s program was
transferred to this
ship’s Sickbay.”
“So* he* is here?” Janeway asked.
“Yeah,” Torres said, “you didn’t check the system when you went by
Sickbay?”
“We didn’t go into Sickbay, actually,” Janeway said, “does he
recognize people? Would
he recognize me?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Torres shrugged, “he’s exactly the same
as he was on
Voyager. We also installed holographic generators in Engineering, the
Bridge, and in here.”
Janeway looked thoughtful as Chakotay sat down next to her.
“Could you activate him in here?” she asked.
“If he’s not busy in Sickbay,” Torres said. “Computer, what is the
status of the Doctor?”
“The Doctor is current in hiatus,” the computer responded.
“He never took a name?” Janeway asked.
“What are you two doing?” Chakotay asked.
“Just saying hello,” Janeway said.
“Computer, activate the Doctor, sequence OM3, wall 3,” Torres
commanded. The
Doctor materialized next to their table.
“What’s the problem?” he asked. Torres had obviously never done
anything about the
Doctor’s brashness.
“There isn’t one actually,” Torres said. The Doctor sighed. “Have a
seat, I want you to
say hello to someone.” The Doctor grunted, then sat next to Torres. “This
is Admiral Janeway.”
The Doctor actually smiled, “Captain Janeway? It’s been a long time.”

“Well, yes,” Janeway said, “how are you enjoying yourself here on the
new Voyager?”
“It really isn’t much different than the old Voyager,” the Doctor
admitted, “Admiral.” He
corrected himself. “To what may I pay the honor of your visiting us?”
“Just passing through.”
“Well, it certainly is refreshing to see you,” the Doctor smiled
thinly, “there are so few
familiar faces these days, and we seem to have a problem with our
captains.” He seemed to
ignore Torres’s smirk. “The only recurring face I’ve seen lately is
B’Elanna here.” Torres rolled
her eyes.
“Who ever said you could call me by my first name?” she asked.
“You did, I believe,” the Doctor smirked. Torres grunted.
“That’s only because you find some reason for me to come down to
Sickbay every day,”
she said, “you’re lucky Harry’s not the jealous type.”
“Yes, your precious Lt. Kim,” the Doctor retorted, “father of your
child, love of you life,
what are the other terms you’ve used for him?”
“Doctor, I’m going to send you someplace else if you’re not polite,”
Torres growled.
“Fine,” the Doctor said, “have it your way.”
“We’ll be seeing you later, Doctor, I suppose,” Janeway added.
“Computer, transfer code 8i,” the Doctor said, and blipped out of the
room.
“Nice seeing that bitter face again,” Chakotay remarked.
“I think he has a crush on you,” Janeway grinned at Torres.
“I had the same feeling,” she said, “luckily Harry’s supposed to be
transferred to Voyager
within the next year.”
“Why don’t you go to DS9?” asked Chakotay.
“Please, that heap? I’d spend more time fixing things than I would
have free time to spend
with Harry,” Torres rolled her eyes, “Starfleet’s had that thing for over a
decade by now? And
they’re still working out bugs. Harry sends me a complaint note nearly
every day. He seems o be
having fun torturing that toad Quark though.”
“Healy to TK,” Torres’s commbadge chirped.
“Torres here,” she replied.
“We’re ready to go for a run,” Healy said.
“Good, let Shifferon know.”
“Yes, sir,” Healy cut off the line.
“Going for a run?” Janeway queried.
“Yeah, we’ve been working on the warp engines,” Torres said, “we’re
going to take her
out and let the ship stretch it’s muscles.”
“Do mind if we stay to watch?” Chakotay asked.
“You’ll have to asked the Admiral,” Torres said, “but I’m sure he
won’t mind.”

“We’re ready, sir,” Healy called. Torres turned to Janeway.
“Would you like to call the shots?” she asked.
“No, remember, I’m still retired, it’s your show,” Janeway declined.
Torres nodded, she
was the most senior officer on the ship at the moment.
“Healy, you know the drill.” The young man nodded.
“Initiating ground launching sequence,” Healy said. The ship
shuddered slightly. The
viewscreen showed the ceiling of the building pulling away. “We’re up.”
“Good, how are the systems?” Torres asked, remaining standing.
“Everything looks good,” a Lt. Nirose called from the Engineering
station. “All systems
are working at optimal.”
“Good,” Torres leaned on a railing, “take us up Healy.”
“Aye, sir.”
A few moments later, the blackness of space yawned at them. Earth’s
moon was barely
visible in the corner of the viewscreen.
“We’re ready to go to warp sir,” Healy announced. Torres shifted
nervously from foot to
foot.
“Is this your first time?” Janeway asked quietly. Torres nodded.
“Then just pick a star
that looks good, and go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Torres grinned. “Healy, set a course for Gieale, warp
one.”
“Aye, sir,” Healy sounded a bit surprised. Gieale was a system that
had only been seen
from afar, never visited. “You don’t plan on going all the way there?”
“No, its just a good direction to go,” Torres said. Healy nodded.
The Voyager -C
lurched forward. The stars began streaking past.
“We’re at warp one, sir.”
“Take us to warp three.”
“Warp three.”
“Kick it to warp seven and hold there for a minute,” Torres commanded.
“Warp four,” Healy said, “warp five, six, seven.” Janeway felt a
tingle down her spine.
“How are the systems holding?” Torres asked.
“Still looking good,” Nirose reported, “a slight power loss in the aft
shields, but nothing
too serious.”
“Well then, lets see if a month on the blocks has hurt this horse,”
Torres grinned, “Healy,
take to warp 9.5.”
“Yes, sir,” Healy was grinning now too. There was a slight groan in
the ship as it passed
warp nine, but nothing too bad. “We’ve reached warp 9.5.”
“Should we go for it?” Torres asked, looking back at Janeway and
Chakotay. Janeway
nodded.
“I’ve only been past 9.975 once,” she said, “and I don’t remember any
of it. Go ahead.”
“You heard the Admiral. Healy, take us to warp 9.985,” Torres said,
her voice nearly
cracking under the excitement.
“Yes sir!” No one on the Voyager had every been to this point, none
of the earlier
captains had taken her past warp eight. The engines shrieked briefly.
“Warp 9.984…” Healy announced, “sir, the engines have a slight
imbalance, we can’t go
higher.”
“This’ll do,” Torres said, eyes glued on the viewscreen. “Take us
down to warp eight in
one minute.”
“Aye sir.”

END PART ONE

Disclaimers: Same as part one basically. I hope everyone’s enjoying the
ride? I know I’m cutting
this episode a bit short, but episode three will kinda be the continuation
of this one.

Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights
Episode Two, Part Two
Paragon’s Path
by: Sforzando

“So Admiral, did you enjoy yourself?” Admiral Shifferon asked Janeway,
after Voyager
had returned to the Highwater Ground Shipyard. Janeway leaned back in her
chair, staring up at
the ceiling.
“Very much,” she said. Chakotay chuckled.
“You were itching to take control, I know you were,” he whispered.
“Maybe,” Janeway admitted.
“Admiral, I was wondering, are you in a great hurry to get back home?”
Shifferon asked.
“Not really,” Janeway said, “why?”
“Well, we would just like to know if you’d like to stay around for a
few days,” Shifferon
inquired, “maybe inspire that crew to get off its lazy butt and prepare the
ship to be launched.”
Janeway cast a careful look at Chakotay, who shrugged.
“Well, sure,” she said after another moment.
“Good,” Shifferon smiled, “we’ll get you a cabin in the barracks.
Make yourselves at
home, feel free to roam the ship, it’ll keep the crew on its toes.”
Janeway returned the smile.
“You were always good at that,” Chakotay said to her. Janeway
laughed. Shifferon rang
the intercom.
“Louise, get Admiral Janeway and Commander Chakotay a cabin,” he
barked.
“Yes, sir,” a thick female voice responded.
“Get Lt. Yule to show them there,” Shifferon added.
“He’s on his way.”

“Interesting,” Kathryn said, leaning over the railing. The barracks
were actually on the
top floor of the Shipyard’s main building, and a small balcony offered an
impressive view of
whatever ship was in at the time. Right now, the Voyager-C sat quietly,
only a few external lights
blinking. “Though I find it a bit odd that the crew should still be on
board and present. Usually
part of the crew would get shore leave when the ship is docked.” Chakotay
shrugged. He was
inside their cabin, lying on the bed. Starfleet beds seemed to be the same
no matter where in the
galaxy one went.
“I know, it was a bit strange, even for the test run this afternoon,
the bridge seemed a bit
over staffed,” he said. Kathryn sighed, and turned away from the scene
below.
“But maybe they just stayed because they weren’t expecting to be
staying long.”
“B’Elanna said they had been there for nearly a month,” Chakotay said.
This time it was
Kathryn who shrugged, and came inside, pulling the glass door tight behind
her.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be dwelling on something as trivial as this,” she
decided, flopping
onto the bed next to Chakotay. He rolled over to face her.
“Let’s just hope that they don’t have the place bugged,” he grinned.
Kathryn gave a self
conscious laugh.
“Pity on them if they do,” she said. Chakotay rolled back onto his
stomach, chuckling.
Kathryn was already tracing circles on his back.
“Let’s hope B’Elanna doesn’t decide to pay us a visit,” Chakotay said,
“computer, kill the
lights.”

The next morning Kathryn and Chakotay sat quietly in the officer’s
mess on Voyager.
The crew milled nervously around them. Shifferon had been right, their
presence did put the crew
on its toes. At for everyone but Torres, who was arguing with the Doctor
as she entered the mess
hall. He went from a voice over the commbadge to a projection standing
next to her as she
entered the room.
“Doctor, I don’t really care, the power relays are fine,” Torres said,
hitting a few keys on
a replicator before removing its cover. “I’ve got more important things to
worry about than a
power system that is working perfectly.” The Doctor snorted.
“Fine,” he grumbled, “I’ll be in Sickbay if I’m needed.” The Doctor
blipped out of the
room.
“That thing is crazy,” Torres mumbled to herself, tinkering with a
connection to a bio-neural gel pack, and then replacing the cover. She
noticed Kathryn and Chakotay, and moved
over to their table.
“Good morning B’Elanna,” Janeway greeted her, “having fun?”
“Oodles,” Torres growled, “that program is really annoying.”
“So we noticed,” Chakotay said, “care to join us?”
“I’d love to, but I have to check the power relays on deck five
again,” Torres said. She
excused herself and continued on her way.
“Can’t let the Doctor get the upper hand, can she?” Chakotay grinned,
sipping his tea.
“Has she ever let him?” Janeway asked. She watched the crew continue
in its nervous
pattern. “I wonder if they think we’re here for an inspection.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Chakotay chided her, seeing the playful glint
in her eyes.
“What, you don’t think it would be fun to torture them for awhile?”
Janeway asked.
“It wouldn’t be wise,” Chakotay said. She sighed.
“Why are we here again? Please remind me, I’m getting bored,” Janeway
downed the last
of her coffee.
“I know how you feel,” sighed Chakotay, “sitting in dock is not my
idea of fun. Even
though I *am* getting paid for it.”
“You’re getting paid for this?”
“I’m officially on duty,” Chakotay grinned.
“So that’s why you’re in uniform,” Janeway decided, “and why you’re
making me wear
this hideous get-up too.”
“It’s not my fault that Starfleet can’t decide on a uniform and stick
to it,” Chakotay said,
gesturing at their differing uniforms. Janeway was wearing the uniform
that had been associated
with Admirals for some time, and Chakotay wore the black and grey uniform.
The uniform they
had worn on Voyager was still seen around, usually over where the Maquis
and Cardassians and
Federation and Dominion and everyone else were fighting. The uniforms
there hadn’t stay black
and grey for too many years before reverting back. One could never be too
sure of what uniform
they were going to see when going into a Starfleet area.
“I personally liked the uniforms on Voyager best,” Janeway said,
tapping the side of her
empty coffee mug.
“Well, you really don’t have to worry much about uniforms, do you?”
Chakotay asked.
“It seems every time I get relocated I change uniform.”
“Poor thing,” Janeway crooned at him, standing. “It’s really
affecting your wardrobe isn’t
it?”
“And B’Elanna’s still wearing the Voyager uniform,” Chakotay said,
following her to the
disposal unit.
“What do you feel like doing today?” Janeway asked, changing the
subject.
“I dunno,” Chakotay watched his plate disappear, “sleeping?”
“Tempting, isn’t it?” Janeway grinned, as they made their way toward
the exit. “How
about we see what-” She was cut off by the chirp of her commbadge. It took
her a moment to
respond, still not used to wearing the thing again.
“Admiral Janeway? You’re needed on the Bridge,” Lt. Nirose sounded
over the line.
“Alright, I’m on my way,” Janeway threw a glance at Chakotay, who
shrugged.

“What seems to be the problem Lieutenant?” Janeway was grinning when
she stepped
onto the Bridge, Chakotay on her heels.
“We need you to settle a debate,” Nirose was grinning also, but in the
direction of Ensign
Nugui, the Vulcan standing at Ops. The Vulcan looked as exasperated as a
Vulcan could get.
“Trust me, Calle,” Nugui said to Nirose, “I know that I am correct in
this matter.”
“Please, T’gana, you may be Vulcan, but you’re wrong,” Nirose called
from her usual spot
at the Science station. Janeway raised a hand.
“What’s the problem?” she asked, smiling at the flustered group on the
bridge. Healy was
smothering a snicker down at his station. “Where’s Torres? Why can’t she
deal with this?”
Janeway herself was holding back laughter.
“Well, you’re more of the scientist, aren’t you?” Nirose said.
“I suppose,” Janeway smiled, “why?”
“Well, we’ve been working on the bio neural gel plates,” Nirose
explained.
“Plates?”
“Their like the packs, but just a big bunch of smaller ones,” Nirose
held up something that
looked exactly like what she had described. “When one of the smaller packs
in the plate gets
infected, what do you do?”
“I believe that it is required to replace the entire plate,” Nugui
said.
“I think its a waste,” Nirose declared, “so many regulations are a
waste.”
“I agree,” Janeway said to Nirose, taking the plate and looking at it.
Near the outer left
edge, a gel pack was considerably darker than the others. “It depends on
the situation.” Janeway
heard the turbolift doors open, and saw Torres enter out of the corner of
her eye. “Is this the only
infected plate?”
“Yeah, it’s the only one we’ve found thus far,” Nirose confirmed.
“Well, if you want a lecture, I’ll give you one,” Janeway grinned
slightly, watching Torres
lean against a console, smiling. Chakotay was smiling too. “Back, on the
original Voyager, we
had a lot of problems with the gel packs, and we couldn’t go replacing
everything by protocol.
So, if we were in that situation here, then I would have to agree with you,
Lt. Nirose.”
“I feel a but’ coming on,” Torres said. Janeway cast a look back at
Chakotay and Torres.
“But,” she affirmed, “in this case, where there is no shortage of
gel… pods? Then I’ll have
to agree with Nugui.” Nirose groaned.
“You always bet on the wrong things,” Healy snickered. Janeway
sighed, and turned back
to Chakotay.
“I guess you’re going to need another plate?” Torres asked, making her
way around them
and to Nirose.
“I guess so,” Nirose sighed lightly. Janeway chuckled.
“If that’s all, I’ll be going,” she said. Chakotay nodded to them as
they left.

“I have the feeling that they really didn’t need me up there,” Janeway
said. They were
walking around the grounds outside the shipyard.
“Like you were being tested?” Chakotay asked.
“Sorta,” Janeway laughed, “almost like…” She shrugged. Chakotay
chuckled.
“Con-speer-a-cee!” he drawled out. Janeway laughed, hanging onto his
arm.
“You’re crazy.” she said.
“It’s the age,” Chakotay said. Janeway paused in her step for a
moment to adjust her
intravenous unit. She rolled her sleeve back down, and they continued back
to the main dock
building. A shuttle landed on the far pad, and Janeway squinted.
“Is that Admiral Shifferon?” she asked, pointing to a figure advancing
toward the shuttle.
“I’m not sure,” Chakotay was squinting also.
“I’m curious,” Janeway said, “lets go see what’s going on.”
“It’s probably nothing,” Chakotay sighed, following her.
“I know, but we haven’t much else to do, now do we?” Janeway asked.
“Good point.”

There were three admirals standing in a group, conversing amongst
themselves. One was
Admiral Shifferon, but the other two were unrecognizable. Janeway and
Chakotay moved closer.
“Who are they?” Janeway whispered. Chakotay shrugged. Janeway led
Chakotay back
around into the building. “Lets go to our room. We might be able to watch
them better from the
balcony.”
“You’re really getting into this aren’t you?” Chakotay asked, but
continued following her.
Janeway leaned over the balcony.
“Can you see them?” Chakotay was changing his clothes.
“Yeah, they’re standing near the entrance ramp, talking,” Janeway
scratched her head. “I
wonder what they’re talking about.”
“Probably nothing important,” Chakotay said.
“If it wasn’t important, why would three admirals be needed?”
Chakotay just shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but its probably nothing for you to
worry about.” Janeway
sighed.
“You’re probably right,” she said, and turned from the balcony.
“Aren’t we supposed to meet B’Elanna for lunch?” Chakotay asked,
sitting on the edge of
the bed.
“I think so.”
“Well, then maybe you’ll get a chance to see your mysterious admirals
up close when we
go down there,” Chakotay grinned at her. Janeway smiled back.
“Don’t tempt me Chakotay,” she re-entered the room.

“So who are the admirals?” Janeway asked Torres as they sat in the
officer’s lounge
eating.
“Um, lets see,” Torres looked thoughtful, “I think they’re from the
committee that brings
in the new captains and officers.” She wiped her mouth off. “Admirals
Bi’Lousa and Yesterfield.
I think.”
“From the committee?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Kathryn was just playing spy commando again,” Chakotay grinned.
“Mm, sounds like fun,” Torres said.
“So B’Elanna, how’s the baby?”
“It depends whether you’re talking about the one in me or the Doctor,”
Torres sighed, “he
is so… weak. For a hologram. It’s like he’s dependent on me for
everything. Every little glitch,
every little problem, he comes crying to me.”
“You poor thing,” Janeway laughed, “but I was talking about *your*
baby.”
“Oh, she’s doing fine,” Torres patted her stomach.
“She?” Chakotay piped up.
“Yep,” Torres grinned, “the Doctor confirmed it this morning.”
“Have you and Harry been thinking of names?” Janeway asked.
“Not really, we haven’t had much time to talk lately,” she looked a
bit wistful. A beep
came from her commbadge. “Oh that’s right, I’m supposed to get a message
from Harry soon.
How convenient, I almost forgot. I’ll be right back.”
“Isn’t she just cute?” Janeway said a bit drily. “The momma to be,
get a comm message
from her husband living far, far away.”
“At least Torres can be pretty sure he’ll be faithful,” Chakotay said.
“Please,” Janeway snorted, “he’s so stuck on her that it probably
interferes with his job.”
Chakotay laughed.
“You’re probably right.”
“Excuse me, Admiral Janeway?” a rather squeaky soprano voice startled
them for a
moment. Janeway turned, to see one the Admirals looking down stoically at
her. She looked like
she was part Vulcan. The absence of the usual contralto threw her off for
a moment.
“Yes? May I help you?”
“I’m Admiral Yesterfield,” the woman introduced herself. “You are
wished to be spoken
with by Admirals Bi’Lousa, Shifferon and I.”
“Well, alright,” Janeway began to stand, “Chakotay, will you tell
B’Elanna I had to go?”
“The Commander is needed also,” Admiral Yesterfield said sternly.
“She’ll understand,” Chakotay said to Janeway. After a moment’s
deliberation, Janeway
nodded, and they followed the quiet admiral down to Shifferon’s office.

“Ah, Admiral Janeway, thanks for coming so quickly,” Shifferon rose to
shake Janeway’s
hand, “this is Admiral Bi’Lousa, I assume you’ve met Admiral Yesterfield.”
Janeway nodded,
shaking Bi’Lousa’s hand in turn. Chakotay remained quietly in the
background.
“I’m sorry to pull you two away from your lunch, but we’ve something a
bit more
pressing to discuss with you,” Bi’Lousa said.
“I understand,” Janeway nodded.
“Don’t worry about Lieutenant Commander Torres-Kim,” Yesterfield said,
“she will be
notified of where you are.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m aware of the fact that you and the Commander had the privilege of
accompanying the
crew of the Voyager on their run the other day,” Bi’Lousa said.
“That’s right,” Janeway didn’t like having Chakotay left out of the
conversation.
“Did you enjoy yourselves?”
“Yes, immensely.” Janeway wasn’t quite sure what they were getting
to.
“Admiral, may I ask, why did you retire from Starfleet?” Yesterfield
asked.
“Because I wasn’t made for a desk job,” Janeway said quickly.
“If you had been given the option to captain another ship, would have
you?” Yesterfield
asked.
“I suppose so,” Janeway said slowly, “but it would depend on the
conditions. Why?”
“We were wondering, that is, Starfleet was wondering, if you’d ever
consider coming out
of retirement,” Bi’Lousa asked.
“I don’t really think so, why?” she repeated the previous question.
“It is a shame,” Yesterfield said. She seemed to have ignored the
last question, and was
directing her comment toward the other two admirals. They nodded.
“If you would excuse us for a moment.”
“Of course.” Janeway led Chakotay back out into the hall.
“What the hell was that all about?” Chakotay whispered as soon as the
door had shut
behind them.
“I’m not sure,” Janeway said thoughtfully, looking between the Voyager
and the door to
Admiral Shifferon’s office. She shook her head. “I don’t know. But why
would they want to
know about my retiring?” Chakotay shrugged.
“Good question,” he stared at the door. Janeway sighed.
“Well, I’m going down to get some coffee,” she told Chakotay, “If they
need me before I
get back, tell them that’s where I am.” Chakotay nodded.

By the time she had returned, Chakotay had nearly fallen asleep as he
leaned against the
wall. Janeway grinned, and poked him in the side.
“Oh, back so soon?” Chakotay asked drowsily.
“Mm, yes.”
“Have a good coffee break?”
“Did you have a nice nap?” Janeway laughed.
“I wasn’t asleep,” Chakotay protested.
“I know,” Janeway said, patting his arm, “so, nothing from the
admiral’s office yet?”
“Nope,” Chakotay stifled a yawn. “How long has it been?”
“Almost an hour,” Janeway said.
“You really know how to nurse your coffee,” Chakotay grinned.
“No, I had three.”
“Oh, then they’ll be really safe if you get mad,” Chakotay chuckled.
“They?”
“The admirals.”
“Oh. Yes. Well, they’ll just have to be careful,” Janeway laughed,
planting a kiss on
Chakotay’s cheek. She leaned back against the wall next to Chakotay.
A few minutes passed, and then the intercom next to the door chirped.
Both Janeway and
Chakotay sighed when it did.
“Admiral, Commander, you can come back in now,” Bi’Lousa’s voice piped
out.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Shifferon apologized as Janeway
and Chakotay
entered the office.
“That’s quite alright.”
“We just had some calls to make, a few people to contact,” Bi’Lousa
said, “but I think it
was worth the time that it took.” Janeway nodded, not quite sure as to
what the admirals were
getting at.
“Oh, I’m sorry we’ve kept you in the dark, Admiral,” Yesterfield said.
Janeway fought a
grin. Yes, definietly only half Vulcan. “But we had to get everything
cleared.”
“I see,” Janeway said, though she didn’t.
“As you know, the Voyager has had problems lately with keeping its
captains,” Shifferon
said. Janeway nodded slowly. “I understand that you’re aquainted with the
engineer, Ms. Torres-Kim. She has taken claim among the crew for being
responsible for Captain Hie’s withdrawl from
the post. And it seems Commander Playen its considering leaving too.”
Shifferon smiled behind
his steepled fingers. “We’ve been looking for someone to fill in Hiew’s
place.”
“Yes, I figured you would,” Janeway had a slightly confused look on
her face. Chakotay
nudged her from behind. When she glanced back at him, she saw the grin on
Chakotay’s face.
“Admiral, we would to know if you would be willing to come out of
retirement to become
the captain of the Voyager-C,” Shifferon looked directly at her, “with
Commander Chakotay as
your first officer.”
Janeway was struck dumb, she really hadn’t expected this. She looked
from Admiral
Yesterfield to Admiral Shifferon and Bi’Lousa, then back to Chakotay. He
was grinning.
“So, Admiral, would you like to be Voyager’s captain?”

END PART TWO
END EPISODE TWO

Posted in Voyager | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights

shelly@camcomp.com

Ooh, I’m bad, I know. This has got to be the worst… well,
maybe not. The idea of Janeway as a divorced bitter old hag does
have its merits, but the idea of Chakotay coming to brighten her
day has even more… I’m thinking abot amking this something of
an ongoing series. Once I figure out a title. I don’t know
really, it’ll depend on the responses I get on it. This is PG-13
cause of the language, nothing bad in it (that I can remember, I
have so many stories bouncing around at once). And I know I
could have chosen a better setting for their vacation, but I was
looking for a place for them to stay, so I just sent them away to
a city where I live. It should sound familar (the city) because
they have a football team.
DISCLAIMER: PARAMOUNT IS GOD!!! IF YOU DON”T LIKE THE IDEA
OF JANEWAY AS A BITTER OLD HAG, OR OF CHAKOTAY COMING TO CHEER
HER UP, OH WELL! THATS YOUR PROBLEM! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OWNED BY
PARAMOUNT, EXCEPT FOR THE COOL ONES I MADE UP! AND PARAMOUNT
DOESN’T OWN JACKSONVILLE (as far as I know).
Read on childrens, the beginging is good, I’m not sure about
the rest. If you get bored with it, just wait for the next
installment. It’ll get better, I promise. And my word is just
as good as the next guys. I know the title sucks, so if you have
a better one, let me know! Or if you really like the title, let
me know too. Anyway….

Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights
Part One
By: Sforzando

The maid entered the library, fidgeting.
“Um, Miss? You have a visitor,” the maid said. Admiral
Kathryn Janeway-Paris raised her eyes from the book she had been
reading. She really hated the addition at the ending, but she’d
be legally Paris-free in just under a week. Kathryn stared
loathingly at the maid. The maids and butlers, she had come to
assume, were spying on her for Tom. They had been separated for
almost two months, but he kept bugging her, still insisting that
he loved her…
They had been married on their return to the Alpha Quadrant.
That was a year ago. They had been married, somewhat happily,
for ten months, before Paris began to get on Kathryn’s nerves.
He had become extremely annoying, among other reasons for Kathryn
filing for a divorce. She had gotten the house, actually, Tom
had pretty much given her the empty mansion that they had lived
in, a gift from Tom’s father.
“It’s not Tom, is it?” Kathryn snapped at the maid, tossing
the book aside.
“No ma’am, he said he wants to talk to you,” the maid stood
there nervously, under the tired, retired Admiral’s watchful eye.
Kathryn sighed.
“Send him in,” she said softly. The maid nodded, and
scurried off into the hall. A few moments later, a tall man
entered. Kathryn stood up quickly realizing who her uninvited
guest truly was.
“Um, hello,” she said.
“Hello.”
“Chakotay.”
“Admiral.”
Kathryn waved her arm, “don’t call me that. Sit down.” She
returned to her seat, and Chakotay sat on the couch across from
her.
“I see your stint in the Maquis didn’t last too long,”
Kathryn said softly. Chakotay grinned at her, shaking his head.
He picked lightly at the Starfleet uniform he wore. Still a
commander.
“No,” he said, “there were some… difficulties. They said
some things to me that hurt. A bit too much to bear.” He stared
at Kathryn, who in turn tightened the belt of her black robe.
She didn’t need to know that most of what had been said to him
was about her. About how hard he had fallen for her, and how he
had nearly died when she turned from him and married Paris. Why
Paris? He still didn’t understand that one. And looking at his
former Captain, he knew that she didn’t understand why either.
“So how are you feeling?” Chakotay asked. Kathryn stood
again, slowly, sighing.
“I just feel so old… there’s just mounds and mounds of
papers to thumb…” Chakotay grinned at her again.
“I’m sure you still have plenty of child-bearing years
left,” he said. She laughed.
“I’m nearly fifty… and anyway, I think I’d have no one to
father any children,” she said, falling into Chakotay’s lap.
“What about me?” he said. Kathryn laughed, throwing her
arms around his neck.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Mm, Commander…” she fingered the three pips on his
collar. “I dunno.” She sighed, leaning her head on his chest.
“So, Kathryn…”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you retire?”
“I was bored.”
“Bored?”
“Yes!” she leapt out of his lap, robe whirling around her.
“Chakotay, I was going crazy! I was never made to sit behind a
desk all day. I missed the freedom.”
“Freedom?”
“Yes,” she sighed, arms hanging at her sides, “when we were
on Voyager… it was an endless voyage. We were free to do as
we pleased. There was no Starfleet or Federation to stop us. We
were all free…” Kathryn sighed again. She sat down again,
propping her feet up on the glass coffee table. Properly named
so; there were two empty coffee pots resting on it.
“Still drinking too much coffee?” he asked.
“Morning, noon, and night,” said Kathryn.
“Sleep much?” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“No.” Chakotay noticed how thin Kathryn’s wrist had become.
“I take it you don’t eat much either,” he said.
“I forget, okay?” Kathryn snapped, “quit treating me like a
baby.”
“Uh, huh, right,” Chakotay raised a brow.
“So,” Kathryn dropped her feet to the floor, “what is the
real reason you trekked out here to the middle of nowhere?”
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Chakotay stared at his
fingers, “I had heard about your divorce…”
“You were checking up on me?”
“You hadn’t contacted Starfleet in four months!”
“I’m retired! Why should I have to check in with them?”
“I wish you would.”
“That’s nothing of your concern.”
“Is it?” Chakotay challenged. With a huff, Kathryn stood
up, and stomped over to the replicator on the wall. She carried
the two empty pots with her. “What are you doing?”
“Considering whether or not it would be wise to throw these
at you,” Kathryn mumbled. She shoved them into the disposal
unit, and hit a button. She silently watched the pots disappear.
Suddenly, she put one hand on the wall, the other on her
forehead. Kathryn swayed slightly. Chakotay was at her side
before he realized he was moving.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kathryn said.
“Yeah, right,” said Chakotay, “come on, tell me.”
“It’s nothing, really,” protested Kathryn, “I’ve just been
getting headaches lately. Probably too much stress.”
“Do you have a doctor around here?” Chakotay looked at her.
“You really look horrible.”
“Gee, thanks,” Kathryn lipped sarcastically.
“Do you?” Kathryn blinked at Chakotay.
“Only the program in the holosuite,” she said softly.
“Maybe you should let the doctor look at you,” Chakotay set
a hand on her arm. She shook it away violently, stomping away.
“I am fine! Do you want me to get a security guard to
escort you out?”
“No,” Chakotay said, and returned to his seat. Kathryn
remained standing, fidgeting with her robe. Chakotay caught a
glimpse of the sheer, wine red gown she wore underneath.
Noticing his gaze, she unbelted the robe.
“Mm, like it? Tom gave it to me on our honeymoon… funny,
I never really ever wore it until recently,” Kathryn stroked the
silken fabric, brow furrowing. Chakotay shook his head.
“Sit down,” he said quietly. She sat on the couch next to
him.
“What?” she asked, tucking a free strand of hair behind her
ear.
“I was wondering…” Chakotay was repeatedly distracted by
the sight of his former captain wearing barely anything.
“Hmm? What?”
“I have a few weeks of vacation coming up soon, and I was
wondering if you’d like to go somewhere with me,” Chakotay looked
at her.
“Where?” she asked.
“There’s an old-fashioned kind of tow
looks a lot like it did three hundred years ago. I think it’s
called Jacksonvilla, or something like that.”
“Jacksonville,” Kathryn corrected.
“Yes, I’ve heard it’s very pretty during the summer. And a
nice, lowly populated vacation spot…” he turned to look at her
better. She was grinning slightly.
“Sure, why not?” she said, “I think the final papers are
being signed next Monday. When did you plan to leave?”
“Probably Tuesday,” Chakotay said. Kathryn took his hand in
hers.
“Was that the real reason you came out here?”
He grinned, “maybe.”
“No other real motives?”
“Mm, no.” She stifled a laugh. He bent over, and gave her
a soft kiss on the lips. She responded in fashion, arm draping
over his back again.
“It’s so nice to see you,” he whispered into her mouth.
“Same here.”

“How much longer is this going to take?” Kathryn asked,
rubbing the back of her neck. The judge looked at her, saying
nothing.
“What, having second thoughts?” hissed Paris from across the
room. Kathryn, in a moment of lost dignity, stuck her tongue out
at him.
“No,” she whispered back, “I just have some packing to do.”
Paris frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going on vacation.”
“Where?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a vacation.”
“With who, then?”
“You really don’t need to know,” Kathryn grinned, turning
back to face the judge.
“Come on, Kathy, who?” she could hear him whispering.
“I’ll tell you later,” she whispered at him. With a huff,
Paris leaned back. Kathryn hummed to herself. It was going to
kill Paris, trying to figure out her little secret. Big secret,
really, because he’d go crazy if she knew that less than a day
after their divorce she’d be jetting off to sunny Florida with
Chakotay. He probably expected Kathryn to go through some period
of mourning. Ha! Yeah right.
A few hours later, the judge was shaking Kathryn’s hand.
“I hope you fair well, Miss Janeway,” she said. Kathryn
grinned, thinking, say it again! She practically danced out of
the courtroom.

When she returned home, Kathryn Janeway found a message
waiting for her. It was from Chakotay. She sat at her desk, and
watched the vid he had left.
“Hello, Kathryn, I hope you’re happy single again. (Grin.)
I’ll just tell you that the weather is going to be very warm in
Florida tomorrow, so bring some sunscreen. I look forward to
seeing you. Don’t forget, the East Station, at noon. Chakotay
out.”
With a happy sigh, Kathryn twirled in her seat. She sent a
short message to her ex-husband.
“Hey Tom, I hope you enjoy the weather in San Fran. I’ll be
in Florida for a few weeks, with, dare I say, Chakotay?”
She received an angry retort a few hours later.
“Damn! You left me for him?”
“No,” Kathryn said.
“Yeah, like I’m going to believe that,” Paris snarled.
“Tom, I filed for a divorce two months ago, and I hadn’t
seen Chakotay for half a year!”
“When did this sudden vacation come about?” Kathryn paused.
“A week ago.”
“Uh huh. You really think I believe you.”
“Yes, Tom, I wish you would.”
“Tell me everything.” Kathryn sighed angrily.
“Tom!”
“Tell me.”
“He came over a week ago. I-”
“Still having those headaches?”
“Yes, but that’s nothing to do with it.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, we talked. And he invited me to go with him on
vacation.”
“And you accepted.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe you Kathy! We’ve not even been divorced a
day and you’re already running off with some one else.”
“I’m not running off. And there’s nothing romantic about
it. He’s just worried about my stress level. I think.”
“Right. I expected at least a period of mourning from you.”
“I expected you to say something like that.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing,” Kathryn sighed. There was a beep on the
screen, “Tom, hold on for a sec.” She allowed for the incoming
message.
“One Miss Admiral Kathryn Janeway, reservations locked in
for flight tomorrow to Jacksonville, Florida, 1 pm. Thank
you.” The pre-programmed message played on the screen.
“What was that?” Tom asked.
“Just my flight confirmations.”
“You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type. If I was, I’d have
the seat next to yours on the shuttle.”
“Oh, Tom, shut up already! You really are just a jealous
little pig!” Kathryn cut communications with a huff. She sighed,
and leaned back in the seat. A maid knocked on the door.
“Are you all right Miss?” the maid asked politely.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I just thought I heard yelling.”
“Just me swearing out Tom.”
“Ah, yes. Do you need help packing?”
“No, thanks,” Kathryn said. The maid began to leave, “ah,
Millie?”
“Yes, Miss?”
“Take the next week off. Tell Frank he can have the week
off too. But be back before I return.”
“Yes, thank you Miss.” A pause from Millie. “How long will
you be away?”
“I don’t really know,” said Kathryn, “but probably not more
than three weeks. I’ll contact you here next Wednesday.”
“Yes, thanks again.” Millie pulled the door shut.

Chakotay greeted her with a hug and a kiss, the next
morning. It was just a little before noon.
“Let me take your bags,” he said. Kathryn smiled.
“You really don’t have to, I can check them in myself,” she
said. Chakotay smiled back at her.
“I insist,” he said, and bowing slightly, took Kathryn’s two
bags to the check-in booth. Kathryn looked around. Shuttleports
weren’t really much different than airports of long ago. In
fact, she thought, sitting in a hard plastic seat, all the owners
probably did was change the names.
“I don’t know why we had to do it the old commercial way,”
she said to Chakotay. He held two boarding padd-passes in his
hands.
“Makes it more fun,” he said, “and anyway, we are going back
in time a bit, I suppose.” He had a playful grin on his face,
and Kathryn was reminded of a time long ago, very, very far away.

They had been on Voyager, in the Delta Quadrant. In the
holodeck in Paris’s program called Chez Sandrine. They had been
dancing.
“You really are good at this,” she had said.
“I learned from the best,” he had said. Something else too,
in his usually witty way. He had smiled at her, much in the same
way he was at the shuttleport two years later.
He had been so close to kissing her then. Kathryn wished he
had. It might have saved her the past year’s trouble. But a
year later a spacial rift had returned them home…

“What are you thinking about?” Chakotay asked. Kathryn
shook her head.
“Nothing really,” she said, “just Voyager, and the old days.
And dancing.” He smiled at her.
“Good thoughts, I hope?” Chakotay said, handing her a
boarding pass.
“Yes,” she nodded, “ak, my picture looks horrible. Where’d
you get it?”
“From the picture from your retirement documents,” Chakotay
said innocently.
“I need to have my picture updated in the archives,” Kathryn
said absently, looking at the picture. She’d been in full dress,
pips and all. She’d been so proud of her ranking, until it
became a nuisance. Kathryn would never forget the way her heart
ached when she was told that Voyager was being decommissioned.
Because it was a scrap heap. Too many parts had been repaired
and replaced, barely half of the ship was the way it had been
originally. If her memory served her right, they were still
making upgraded models of Intrepid class ships. Tom had joked
about calling them “Voyager” class.

“Kathryn, look,” Chakotay pointed out the window. Their
shuttle had landed at a shipyard for a few minutes while picking
up passengers.
“Oh, my,” Kathryn said. She tried to lean further out the
window. A small, sleek, beautiful ship was poised on the docks.
The design was too familiar. “Why wasn’t I told?”
“That’s what you get for not talking to Starfleet more
often,” he grinned. Kathryn sighed.
“I really would love to get a look at her,” she said,
reading the words on the ship’s side, “Voyager-C, NCC 84656.”
“It’s already been arranged,” Chakotay said, “on our trip
back, whenever that is. She’s a beaut, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” breathed Kathryn, “what’s she doing down here?”
“Came down for a few systems check-ups,” said Chakotay,
“Intrepid Class B. First of her kind.”
“How many..?”
“There are nine Intrepid B’s currently commissioned,”
Chakotay said.
“What happened to the Voyager-B?”
“She was built only as a test dummy, never fully
commissioned,” said Chakotay, shaking his head, “used to study
Voyager’s modified systems.”
“I’m tempted…” said Kathryn softly. Chakotay laughed.
“I know,” he said, “but you’re retired, remember?” Kathryn
sighed.
“Yeah, I know,” she said, “but sometimes I…” she bit her
lip, head dropping. He put an arm over her shoulders.
“I know, it hurts sometimes.”
“I really miss the job, Chakotay.”
“Gonna pull a Kirk?” he mocked. Kathryn smiled briefly at
the strange reference.
“Thinking about it,” Kathryn said wistfully. He laughed
again, then leaned over.
“Don’t let it ruin your vacation,” he whispered into her
ear.
“I won’t,” she said, turning from the veiwport, “it’ll just
give me something to look forward to.”

They arrived in the shuttleport at Jacksonville an hour
later.
“This certainly is different than I expected,” said Kathryn,
looking out the window at the shuttleport (which had, in fact,
formerly been the area’s airport).
“What were you expecting?” asked Chakotay.
“I’m not sure,” said Kathryn.
“Something more primitive?” Chakotay joked. Kathryn
shrugged.
“I guess,” she arched her neck, looking around, “it’s really
nice. I guess our ancestors weren’t that primitive three hundred
years ago.” Chakotay laughed.
“They were just minus tricorders, transporters, holodecks,
replicators… and warp technology was a few more years off,” he
said.
“It’s beautiful,” said Kathryn, “in a simplistic way.”
“They still had some decent technology, but it was a long
way off from today’s standards,” Chakotay said. Kathryn laughed.
“Shall we get moving?” she asked.
“Sure.”

“There’s supposed to be some great shopping in this area,”
said Kathryn.
“Where are we again?” Chakotay asked.
“In the hotel.” Chakotay rolled his eyes.
“Well, I could have told you that,” he said. Kathryn
laughed.
“In a part of Jacksonville called Regency.”
“Interesting name,” said Chakotay, “what else is there,
besides shopping?” Kathryn stepped up to the large window,
pulling back the drapes. She went out onto the balcony.
“There are supposed to be some really nice beaches around
here,” Kathryn said, looking at a brochure.
“And some nice sunsets?” Chakotay followed her out, “very
romantic I hear?” Kathryn laughed, hitting him on the chest with
the padd.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Mm, maybe.”
“According to the brochures, the beach was a mile further
out, before erosion got bad in the late twenty-first century,”
Kathryn said. Chakotay could see the scientist in Kathryn
beginning to take over. She shaded her eyes, “you can almost see
the waves breaking from here.”
“I can,” laughed Chakotay, “your eyesight must be going.”
“That’s not funny!” said Kathryn, “at least I still have my
hair.”
“That’s even worse!” laughed Chakotay, “I have all my hair,
thank you very much.”
“Just a different color!” Kathryn laughed, ducking
Chakotay’s playful swipe. She hopped back into the room. There
was a knock on the door.
“I wonder who that could be,” said Chakotay. Kathryn pulled
the door open.
“Hello!” a bright, chipper woman greeted them. She was
barely as tall as Kathryn, and had hair so blond it was nearly
white. Her eyes were blue, and a smile was plastered so hard on
her face that Chakotay wondered if it hurt. “My name is Ariee
Smithe, and I’m the manager of the Regency District Inn. I make
it a personal goal to meet and greet everyone who graces the
streets of our fair city.”
“Have you lived here long?” asked Chakotay.
“My family has lived in this area since 1989,” Ariee
answered brightly.
“That’s a long time,” said Kathryn.
“Yes ma’am it is,” chirped Ariee, “that is why I pride
myself so much in my knowledge of the history of this area.”
“Well, thank you for meeting and greeting us,” said
Chakotay. He fought hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“You are welcome,” said Ariee, “oh, yes. I’d like you to
meet one of the newer members of our managerial staff, he’s not a
local, but his cooking is divine!” Ariee clapped her hands with a
laugh. A word sprouted into Kathryn’s mind. ‘Airhead’. “I’d
like you to meet Mr. Neelix.” Kathryn felt Chakotay elbow her.
“Ah, hello! Oh, well, isn’t this a wonderful surprise!”
Neelix was standing before them, gaudy as ever, and loving every
minute of it, “Captain, or should I say, Admiral, and the
Commander! What brings you two down here?”
“Vacation,” said Kathryn.
“I see you know each other,” Ariee said chipperly, “I’ll let
you all catch up. If you like, dinner is served at seven.”
Ariee practically bounded down the hall.
“Neelix, it’s great to see you,” said Chakotay, awkwardly
accepting Neelix’s hug.
“I thought this was a nice area,” Neelix said, “very quiet,
and the people are nice.”
“Is everyone around here like Miss Smithe?” asked Kathryn.
“Um, well, no, I suppose not,” said Neelix, “I think it’s
just that her family’s lived down here so long that the salt
water got embedded in their brains. Might be the chlorine in the
pool water too.” He shrugged.
“Probably,” Chakotay said drily.
“Well,” said Neelix, “I’ll be on my way. See you two at
dinner.”
After Neelix had left, Kathryn turned to Chakotay with a
sigh.
“So, what first?” she said. Chakotay shrugged.
“How about we sample some of that shopping you were talking
about?” he said. Kathryn grinned.
“You read my mind,” she said, picking up her credit-cards
(not the type of the twentieth century) and starting for the
door. Chakotay followed her out.
“I wonder if they have any tacky tourist shops…”

END PART ONE

Yes, it’s part two! I’m thinking that, like I said before,
this will become something of soap-opera type thing. You might
consider this part two of the “pilot” episode. I already have
the plot in mind for the second episode, but suggestions are
welcome. I will give credit to anyone who can give me an
interesting idea for another episode. I’ll try to end this
episode within the next part or two. Or three. I might just
divide J/C’s trip to Fla into two episodes… that would be
easier. Anyway, I’d really like to hear anyone’s ideas. Part
two is a bit tame, but oh well. I really will try to make it
better, really… maybe next episode… that’s partly why I’m
open to any, um, steamy options…
DISCLAIMER: PARAMOUNT IS GOD. YOU KNOW THE DRILL. IF YOU
DON’T LIKE IT, GET LOST! THIS IS YOUR WARNING!! Ahem, as usual,
any characters that obviously don’t belong to Paramount, don’t
belong to them. They belong to me, I guess.
Comments are welcome, and answered usually. Requests and
suggestions for plot lines are also welcome, with open arms.
Please, really, if you have some idea that you want to have
written, but are too lazy to write, send it to me!! PLEASE!! I
can’t do this forever. Sigh…

Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights
Pilot Episode, Part Two:
Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights (self named title)
By: Sforzando

“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I am bored,” sighed Kathryn, “B-o-r-e-d.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Now, how can you be bored?” Chakotay asked. They were
seated on the balcony of their hotel room. Kathryn shrugged.
“I dunno, I just am,” she said.
“We could do some more shopping,” Chakotay said.
“No,” Kathryn said, shaking her head, “we’ve spent the past
four hours doing that.”
“The hotel will be serving dinner in an hour,” said
Chakotay, “we could just nap until then.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kathryn said. She didn’t move.
“Plan to sleep there?”
“It doesn’t require much movement,” sighed Kathryn.
“Maybe we could go to the beach tomorrow,” said Chakotay.
“We could go tonight,” Kathryn was grinning.
“Mm, skinning dippy?”
“You are a sick man, Commander.”
“Hey, you came up with it, not me!”
“Funny I remember the words coming out of your mouth,”
Kathryn grinned again, poking Chakotay.
“I could have said something worse,” he grinned.
“Down boy!” Kathryn laughed, swatting him away. Chakotay
got up.
“I’m going to sleep inside,” he said, “wake me in half an
hour.”
“Like I’m going to be awake,” laughed Kathryn, standing too.
“You can’t come in,” said Chakotay.
“It’s too damn cold out,” said Kathryn.
“It’s not cold,” said Chakotay.
“That’s your opinion,” said Kathryn.
“It’s the middle of summer!” laughed Chakotay, flopping onto
his bed. He rolled onto his stomach.
“Whatever,” sighed Kathryn, walking off into the bathroom.
Chakotay, through a thin curtain of sleep, felt Kathryn lay
next to him on the bed a few minutes later. Her warm breath
tickled the back of his ear, and he felt her arm looping around
his back, before falling completely asleep.
The knocking on the door woke Chakotay a while later.
Kathryn had somehow wound herself around him. The room was
darker than it had been before. Chakotay managed to unwrap
himself, and padded through the door. He ran a hand through his
hair as he opened the door.
Neelix, still smiling, was standing there. He carried a
tray in his hands.
“Oh, hello Neelix,” Chakotay said.
“Hello,” said Neelix, “you didn’t show up for dinner, so I
brought you something up.” Chakotay looked at a clock. It was
almost eight.
“I didn’t realize it was that late,” he said, taking the
tray from Neelix, “we fell asleep. I told her to wake me up.”
Chakotay grinned. Neelix leaned in slightly, seeing Kathryn
still asleep on the bed.
“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Neelix said, casting a
curious gaze at Chakotay.
“Neelix, it’s not what you think,” said Chakotay, smiling,
“get your mind out of the gutter.” He was pushing the door shut.
“What?” said Neelix.
“Old Earth expression,” said Chakotay. The door shut, and
Chakotay sighed. On the bed, Kathryn moaned.
“I smell food,” she said into the pillow.
“We missed dinner,” said Chakotay. Kathryn rolled over.
“Really? I didn’t realize it was so late,” she said.
Kathryn climbed out of bed slowly, stretching.
“I take it you slept well?” Chakotay said innocently.
“Mm, yes,” said Kathryn, smiling.
“You nearly choked me,” Chakotay said, testing Kathryn’s
memory. Did she remember that she had been lying next to him?
“Oh, did I? Sorry,” Kathryn wandered over to the table
where Chakotay had began to set out the food. “Sorry about
sleeping next to you but…”
“But I was warmer than sleeping alone?” he grinned at her.
“Yeah.”
“Right,” said Chakotay, laughing, “if I had done the same
thing to you, you’d probably have killed me.”
“How did I nearly choke you?” asked Kathryn, sitting down.
“I was joking,” said Chakotay, “but you were wrapped around
me like a piece of seaweed.”
“Speaking of which,” Kathryn grinned, uncovering a salad
dish, “how’s about that trip to the beach?”
“You are the feisty one, aren’t you?” laughed Chakotay,
“tomorrow, hmm? No, not tonight. I want to actually get some
sleep tonight.” Kathryn tossed a crouton at him.
“Tomorrow then,” she said, “we can spend the day journeying
around the islands.”
“Islands?”
“The Golden Isles,” Kathryn said, waving her fork
dramatically.
“Sounds interesting,” said Chakotay. He picked up his dish,
and went out onto the balcony. Kathryn followed him out a minute
later. She leaned on the railing, watching a group of teenagers
playing volleyball down below.
Suddenly, she asked, “Chakotay, what color underwear are you
wearing?”
“What?” Chakotay nearly dropped his plate.
“You heard me,” she didn’t avert her eyes from the scene
below. In fact, Kathryn had asked the question as casually as
people might discuss the weather.
“Um, black, why?”
“Just wondering,” she said, back in her thoughts, ignoring
him.
“What color are you wearing?”
“Hmm?”
“What color underwear are you wearing?” he repeated.
“I don’t think I’m wearing any, actually,” Kathryn said.
She wiggled her hips, shaking her head.
“I have a feeling this wasn’t accidental,” Chakotay grinned.
“Now, Chakotay, whatever would make you say that?”
“I think you’re making a pass at me.”
“Where’s the problem with that?”
“Mm, I don’t think there is one actually,” Chakotay said.
Kathryn smiled, still watching the volleyball game.

The next morning, after a thankfully uneventful night,
Kathryn and Chakotay went down to the hotel’s dining room.
Neelix joined them at a table, shortly after they were served.
“So, Neelix, do you have any beaches around here that you’d
recommend?” Kathryn asked, cutting her waffle apart.
“Actually, yes,” said Neelix, “there are surprisingly a lot
of very nice beaches around here. If you go just a few miles
down the road, you end up at Regency Beach. There’s some really
good diving there, lots of old underwater buildings to look at.”
“Sounds interesting,” said Chakotay. He really wasn’t
paying much attention, focusing more on the perplexing problem of
stealing Kathryn’s breakfast.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard of the Golden Isles,” said
Neelix, “they’re a system of barrier islands. One of them,
Cumberland I think, is a really good place for a romantic sunset
dinner,” he winked at Chakotay, “really anywhere you go around
here you’re bound to find some really nice beaches.” Kathryn
nodded, swatting Chakotay’s drifting hand away from her plate.
“Thank you Neelix,” she said.
“Planning on dong a little beach combing today?” said
Neelix.
“Yeah,” said Chakotay, avoiding a brief glare from Kathryn,
“a nice romantic stroll. Maybe we’ll go to a few of those
barrier islands you mentioned. What was that one called,
Chamberland?”
“Cumberland,” Neelix corrected. “So I guess you two won’t be
here for dinner?” Kathryn shook her head.
“Probably not,” she said, “knowing Chakotay, we’ll probably
get lost.” She smiled, getting her revenge from all those
“romantic stroll” remarks. Neelix nodded quickly.
“Well, I hope to see you two tomorrow for dinner?” at
Kathryn’s nod Neelix smiled, “see you two later.” He scampered
off elsewhere. Kathryn sighed.
“He does still come on a bit strong, doesn’t he?” grinned
Chakotay. Kathryn smirked, picking up her mug of coffee.
“Yeah,” she said, “pink flamingoes do not look good on him.”
Chakotay laughed.
“So, where do you want to go first?” he asked, picked up
their brochure.
“I dunno,” said Kathryn, “you pick, and I’ll complain.”
“Hmm, let’s see,” he said, “how about…”
“Cumberland?”
“Yeah, you read my mind,” Chakotay grinned.
“Not, really,” sighed Kathryn, “considering that
“Cumberland” and “romantic stroll” seem to be your new favorite
words, I’m not surprised.” Chakotay grinned at her.
“Come on,” he said, “you know it’ll be fun. You can do some
sunbathing…”
“I am pale, aren’t I?” sighed Kathryn, inspecting her arm.
“Find a nice, secluded beach…” Chakotay ducked the
oncoming napkin
“I’ll ‘nice, secluded beach’ you,” Kathryn said.
“Oh, won’t you please?” said Chakotay.
“Leave you there,” she said into her mug.

The sun was halfway into the morning sky, as they arrived at
Cumberland Beach. Kathryn had stripped down to her bikini, and
was looking for her sunscreen. She turned at a whistle.
“I’m glad to see you’ve kept your figure,” said Chakotay,
“though you are a bit thin in some spots…”
“Leave it to you to notice,” grinned Kathryn, “let’s see
your bathing suit.”
“I’m not sure I brought one,” Chakotay grinned back, taking
the bottle of sunscreen from her, “let me grease you up.” But
instead of ‘greasing her up’, Chakotay dropped the bottle, his
arms wrapping around her. He dipped his head to meet hers, and
kissed her hungrily.
When they came up for air, Kathryn was laughing.
“Now how about that nice secluded spot?” Chakotay said, arms
still wrapped around her. Kathryn smiled.
“Mm, lead the way,” she said. Chakotay released her, and
she stooped quickly to pick up their bag, and the sunscreen.
She and Chakotay wandered down the beach, almost a mile,
before stopping.
“I think this is a good spot,” Chakotay said, glancing
around.
“I haven’t seen another person in over an hour,” said
Kathryn. Chakotay found the blanket and spread it out onto the
sand. Kathryn sat down, patting the sunscreen bottle in her
palm.
“Ick, there is sand stuck on my feet,” she laughed.
“That’s what you get for greasing up on the go,” grinned
Chakotay.
“At least I put some on,” said Kathryn, “I’m so pale, I
can’t afford to get burnt. Now, lets see that bathing suit of
yours, mister.” She wrapped her arms around Chakotay’s waist,
smiling up at him.
“I thought I told you I didn’t have one,” said Chakotay.
Kathryn laughed, “I didn’t realize you were serious.”
“Ah, you are so naive,” he grinned.
“Isn’t it a bit early in the day for skinny dipping?” mocked
Kathryn.
“I wouldn’t really classify it as skinny-dipping,” said
Chakotay. His hands were running up her back, fingers playing
with the straps of her bikini top, “I could wear your bathing
suit.”
“Isn’t there some law against indecent exposure?” said
Kathryn, “what if some little old lady were to hobble by, and see
you prancing around in my bikini?.. That would be scary.”
“Very funny,” said Chakotay.
“Let’s make a deal,” Kathryn said, standing on her tip-toes
to peck Chakotay on the lips, “you don’t wear a bathing suit, I
don’t wear a bathing suit.”
“Sounds promising,” said Chakotay, returning the kiss, “I
think that deal has its merits.”
“We should put up a sign, warning little old ladies,”
laughed Kathryn.

“Damn! The water is cold,” said Kathryn. Chakotay surfaced
beside her.
“There you go, saying things are cold again,” he laughed,
swimming up closer, “let me warm you up.” She felt his slick
skin enclose hers.
“Mm, now there’s a really warm spot,” she said, hands
underwater.
“Ooh, mm, yeah, there’s another,” Chakotay’s hands also
explored.
“You know, Chakotay, I’m glad you do have a bathing suit,”
Kathryn laughed.
“Why’s that?”
“I keep having this fear of little old ladies sneaking up on
us,” she said, pulling herself free.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” he laughed, following her
out.
“Must be the age,” Kathryn laughed, disappearing under the
surface. She reappeared several yards away.
“Nah,” said Chakotay, “I’m older than you, and I’m not
crazy.”
“You’re only fifty,” she said, “and you’re only as old as
you feel.”
“I feel like I’m thirteen,” said Chakotay.
“Thirteen?” Kathryn said, “I’m only forty-eight, and even I
know that’s a bit young to be feeling. Even if people do live a
lot longer these days.”
“No, I was thirteen the first time I went swimming alone
with a girl,” said Chakotay.
“Really?”
“Yep,” said Chakotay, “she had long blond hair, and green
eyes. I don’t remember her name.”
“How old was she?”
“Fourteen, I think,” said Chakotay, “I probably can’t
remember too well because she left me in the water. I got caught
in a rip current and nearly drowned.”
“Oh,” Kathryn sombered for a bit, “I won’t leave you to
drown,” she promised, coming up next to him.
“Why’s that?” he asked, arms trailing around her waist.
“I figure that you’re probably a lot better looking now than
you were when you were thirteen,” said Kathryn, “and smarter
too.”
“Mm, you could say that,” said Chakotay, stealing a kiss.
“I’ll race you back to the beach,” said Kathryn. She
disappeared under again.
“I’ll beat you back,” he called, as she resurfaced.
“We’ll see about that,” she called back, before diving under
again. Kathryn was sitting on the blanket when Chakotay flopped
down next to her, panting.
“Where’d you learn to swim like that?” he asked, taking a
towel from Kathryn.
“It’s called dolphin style,” she said, “I learned it at the
Academy.”
“I would never have thought of you being the person with
enough free time to learn how to swim,” said Chakotay, “I never
got past the back stroke.”
“What about the breast stroke?” Kathryn asked. Her voice
carried enough innocence, but her eyes twinkled.
“Hmm, Kathryn are you making a pass at me again?” he
laughed. Kathryn gave a raucous smile.
“You might say that,” she said, “but you’re too busy to
talk.” Her grin widened, as she leaned over to kiss Chakotay.
He made a humming noise, she could feel his grin.
“Very busy,” he said.

“Mm, Kathryn?” Chakotay rubbed the small of her back. The
early afternoon sun glared harshly down at them. Kathryn sighed,
rolling over.
“Hmm?” Chakotay ran a hand down her bare side. Kathryn’s
left eye opened, watching him merrily as his hand paused to cup
her breast.
“Do you think we should be exploring some of the other
beaches?”
“I’m perfectly happy right here,” she said. Chakotay
smiled.
“I’m serious,” he whispered.
“I guess,” said Kathryn, “I’ll have to find my tunic.”
“Watching out for little old ladies?”
“More like horny old men,” Kathryn grinned. She sat up.
“And, I don’t feel like putting on more sunscreen.”
“Isn’t that stuff supposed to last for twenty hours?”
“Yeah,” sighed Kathryn, running a brush through her tangled
hair, “but after that I’m not so sure…”
A half hour later, Chakotay and Kathryn were walking down
the dock to the boat that took people off the island.
“You know, I’ve never made love on a beach before,” Kathryn
whispered to Chakotay.
“Hmm, really?”
“Yeah,” she grinned, “I’ve got sand in places you wouldn’t
believe.”

“I’m hungry,” grumbled Kathryn, sitting next to Chakotay on
a padded bench. They were on board The Cumberland Duchess, a
replica of the old boats once used for transporting tourists on
and off Cumberland Island.
“We could go to the Mall,” said Chakotay, “sample some
cuisine.”
“I don’t see why it’s called the Mall,” said Kathryn, “but
I’m not up for a history lesson right now.” Her stomach growled
audibly.
“I think I has something to do with the malls that
practically choked the city back in the 20th century,” said
Chakotay, putting his arm around Kathryn’s back.
“Hmm, I think after lunch I want to explore another one of
the beaches,” Kathryn said. She was consulting the brochure
again.
“Do you carry that thing everywhere?” asked Chakotay.
“No, just when I’m afraid you’re going to get us lost,”
Kathryn laughed. She passed him the padd, “look at this, I think
it could be interesting.”
“Hmm, Naval Beach,” said Chakotay, “interesting name.”
“I know,” said Kathryn, “that’s enough intrigue for me.”
“Sounds good,” said Chakotay.

“What is that?” asked Chakotay. Kathryn inspected her
lunch.
“It’s called ‘pizza’,” she said.
“Interesting,” said Chakotay.
“An ancient delicacy.”
“Delicacy?”
“Sort of,” said Kathryn, “people used to eat it all the
time. Very popular until the new cultural revolutions in the
22nd century.”
“You mean it’s native to here?” Chakotay said doubtfully.
“Yep, that’s what the guy said,” Kathryn took an
experimental bite.
“How is it?” Chakotay asked, taking a bite of his own safer-
in-appearance burrito.
“Good,” Kathryn said, “very… cheesy.”
“Cheesy?”
“Yeah,” said Kathryn, smiling at Chakotay’s expression,
“better than it looks.”
“Better than Neelix’s old cooking?”
“Definitely.”
“Let me try,” Chakotay said. Kathryn cut him off a piece.
“Not bad,” he said, after tasting carefully.
“Told you so,” she said.
“I think I’m going to have to steal your lunch,” said
Chakotay. Kathryn laughed, swatting him away.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said, kissing him.
“Mm, cheesy.”
“What?”
“Your kiss.”
“Oh great,” Kathryn said, “now I taste like pizza.”
“Actually…”
“Don’t even start,” Kathryn suppressed a giggle, “not in
public. Later.”
“Hum, let’s go back to the hotel instead…”
“No Chakotay,” Kathryn said, “I want to do a bit more
exploring.”
“Exploring hmm?” Chakotay grinned devilishly at her.
“Keep your pants on Commander,” Kathryn grinned back,
emphasizing on the last word. Chakotay sighed, then averted his
eyes, playing foul and returning to his lunch.

END PART TWO

Disclaimer: Paramount is God. They own the concept of Voyager, but not
what I do to their
characters… (I’m not sure they’d want to claim it either!)
Yes! I’m finally finishing this! Sorry it’s taken so long for the last
part, but I have been extremely
busy lately. The reading public is lucky I finished this at all, but I was
going through my disks and
thought, ‘what the hell?’. So here’s the final part of this episode. You
might expect another
episode once my work load slacks off (say around next April? Just kidding,
more like within the
next month). I know I’m cutting this off short, but I promise, one way or
another, I will try to
continue the series. I’ve already got dim ideas for the first dozen
episodes, now I just need to
write them….

Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights
Pilot Episode, Part Three
Alpha Quad Days, Delta Quad Nights (self titled title)
By: Sforzando

“So, I take it you two had a good time yesterday?” Neelix leaned over
Kathryn and
Chakotay’s table. Seeing the humored look on his face, Kathryn kicked
Chakotay under the table.
“Um, yes Neelix, we had a great time,” Kathryn said quickly, trying to
not burst out
laughing.
“Well, that’s good,” said Neelix, “are you enjoying yourselves?”
“Yes, immensely,” Chakotay said, stepping on Kathryn’s foot to stop
the laughter.
Kathryn kicked him again.
“Good, just call if you need anything,” Neelix said, and scurried off
to talk to Ariee.
The contained laughter broke loose once Neelix had disappeared around
the corner.
“If he only knew,” laughed Kathryn, slapping a hand on the table.
“I think he wouldn’t be too pleased,” said Chakotay.
“But, what about all the wonderful scenery?” Kathryn said, mocking
Neelix, “you mean
you two were too busy making out to watch the sunset?” Chakotay laughed.
“Mm, that was some sunset, wasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Kathryn laughed, lifting a glass to her lips, “I’m going
to have sand up my ass for
weeks.” Chakotay grinned at her.
“Poor thing,” he cooed. Kathryn swallowed, staring at Chakotay.
“And then there was the sunrise…” Kathryn grinned, rubbing her thumb
around the rim of
her glass.
“And ten minutes after sunrise…”
“You were asleep again by then!” laughed Kathryn.
“Okay, an hour after sunrise.”
“That’s more like it.”
“Hmm…”
“Then you were out like a light again until lunch.”
“Then there was lunch…”
“Mm, yes, lunch,” said Kathryn. A waiter brought their dinners, “I am
starving.”
“Serves you right for not eating.”
“Well I always seemed to be a bit busy!”
“I guess.”
“You guess? You mean you can’t remember?”
“I can’t believe you remember what times.”
“It was pretty impressive.”
“Really?” Chakotay grinned at her. Kathryn nodded absently, staring
blankly at him.
“Did you know that you snore?”
“I never realized,” said Chakotay. Kathryn blinked, then grinned up
at him. “What?”
“Mm, I was just thinking about dessert,” she said.
“Hm, really?”
“Yeah,” Kathryn said, “cherries and whipped cream…”
“Whipped cream?”
“Yep,” she said, “and chocolate sauce.”
“Hmm…” Chakotay tried to look thoughtful. She saw his look, then
laughed.
“I was talking about what’s on the dessert cart, not you!” she
giggled. Chakotay turned to
look over his shoulder.
“I could be on the dessert cart if you wanted,” he said.
“You would do something like that, wouldn’t you?” she smiled at him.
“Now, that’s not
saying that I might not want you after dessert…”
“Hm, sounds promising,” said Chakotay.

A few hours later, they sat out on the balcony, facing each other.
Kathryn’s feet rested in
Chakotay’s lap, she leaned back into the soft cushions on the chair. The
night breeze whipped her
hair out behind her. Kathryn held a wine glass in one hand, the other arm
draped over the railing.
Her eyes were closed, a smile on her face as Chakotay massaged her foot.
“So, did you enjoy dessert?” he asked, rubbing her ankle. Kathryn’s
smile broadened.
“I enjoyed it a great deal,” she said.
“The chocolate or the whipped cream?” Chakotay asked.
“Mm, the whipped cream,” Kathryn said. She tilted her face up to the
clear night sky,
opening her eyes.
“And you were complaining about sand up your butt…”
“This might be worse,” sighed Kathryn.
“But more tasty.”
“You would think up something like that,” Kathryn grinned.
“Are you up for a swim?”
“This late at night?” Kathryn lifted her head.
“In the pool, I mean.”
“In the pool…”
“It’s lighted,” said Chakotay, squeezing her foot before setting it on
the floor, “and we
could stay properly attired.”
“I’d hate to see the look on Neelix’s face…”
“Or Ariee’s.” Kathryn grunted at this, still smiling. She pulled
herself into a sitting
position.
“Mah gracious! What are you two do’in’?” Kathryn drawled.
“Ain’t the wahter cold?” Chakotay rolled his eyes.
“It’s probably safer to stay up here,” said Kathryn, pulling her feet
up into her chair. She
yawned, “And anyhow, going swimming might require putting on more clothes.”
“You better hope no one’s down there looking up when we go back
inside,” said
Chakotay, “I’d hate to have Ariee ask me what we’re doing up here.”
“Ah wunder what thare doin’ up thare,” she drawled.

“I don’t know what they’re doing Ariee,” Neelix said. They were
cleaning up after the
final dinner rush. Ariee moved away form the big glass window in the
dining hall, to continue
picking up dishes. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, they’re not wearing any clothes, as near as I can tell,” said
Ariee.
“Maybe they’re hot,” said Neelix, “it is pretty warm out tonight.”
“Probably,” said Ariee.

“At least we’d have an excuse,” said Chakotay, “it is pretty hot out
tonight.”
“Yeah,” said Kathryn, standing up. She pulled the sliding door open
and went back inside
their room. When Chakotay followed her in a few minutes later, Kathryn was
lying on one of the
beds. She lay on her back, a fist clenched over her eyes. She had pulled
her robe on before falling
onto the bed.
“Are you okay?” Chakotay asked.
“I’m fine, it’s just a headache,” Kathryn said. Chakotay sat on the
bed, next to her.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I am *fine*, Chakotay,” Kathryn said, still not moving. Chakotay
pulled her fist away
from her eyes, which were closed.
“Kathryn, is there something that I should know about?” he asked,
flattening out her hand.
Kathryn swallowed.
“It’s not important,” she said softly. Chakotay gave a frustrated
sigh, and released
Kathryn’s hand.
“Fine,” he said, standing up,” you can tell me when you’re good and
ready.” Chakotay
stalked off into the bathroom.
“Chakotay…” Kathryn said weakly. But he had shut the door, shut her
out, wasn’t
listening. She sighed softly, and sat up. She got up, and found her
clothes from earlier. She
cracked open the door to the bathroom. The shower was running.
“Chakotay, I’m going down to the lobby,” Kathryn said.
“All right,” came Chakotay’s muted response. She shut the door and
then went down to
the dining hall.
“Neelix, do you have a comm line?” Kathryn asked. Neelix was wiping
off a table.
“Oh, yes, of course,” he said, “you can use the one down by the
check-in office.”
“Thanks,” Kathryn went back out into the hall, her head still
pounding. Ariee was going
through files on a computer.
“Hello, Miss Janeway! How can I help you?” Ariee was still chipper.
“I need to use the comm,” Kathryn said. Ariee nodded.
“Yes, just push the button for line two,” she said, “if you’ll excuse
me, I have some records
to transfer. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Kathryn nodded, punching up a
code on the comm.
The lean face of an elderly Bajoran came up on the screen.
“Ah, hello Admiral,” he said.
“You know I hate being called that, Dr. Kenthas,” Kathryn said.
“Yes, Miss Janeway. How are you?” Kenthas asked.
“Take a wild guess, Doctor,” Kathryn sighed, “would I be bothering you
if I felt fine?”
Kenthas chuckled.
“True,” he said, “so, you’re still getting headaches?”
“Yes,” Kathryn said, “I’m in the middle of one right now.” Kenthas
nodded.
“You’re on Earth right now, correct?” he asked.
“Yes,” Kathryn said, rubbing the bridge of her nose again.
“When is your surgery scheduled for?” asked Kenthas.
“Three weeks from tomorrow,” Kathryn said.
“Let me see,” Kenthas leaned off screen, typing something into a
computer, “yes. Are you
at home?” Kathryn shook her head slightly.
“No, I’m in Florida,” she said. Kenthas nodded again.
“I’m going to send an order to a doctor in New Miami. Dr. Michetta, I
believe is her
name. She’ll give you something to help relieve the nerve pressure until
you have your surgery.
“Thank you, Dr. Kenthas,” Kathryn said.
“She should have it ready for you by tomorrow morning,” the doctor
said.
“I’ll get down there sometime to pick it up,” Kathryn said.
“All right.” Kathryn disconnected the comm line.
“Pick up what?” Kathryn nearly leapt a foot off the ground.
“Chakotay!” she cried, whirling once she hit the ground.
“Kathryn, what are you doing down here?” Chakotay asked, his eyes
half-narrowed.
“I, well,” Kathryn crossed her arms. Chakotay sighed. “Chakotay, I
have a medical
problem.”
“I figured that,” said Chakotay.
“I have a pinched nerve,” Kathryn said, motioning to a spot behind her
ear, “it’s not too
serious, and I’m going in for surgery in three weeks.” Chakotay looked
thoughtful.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” he asked.
“I didn’t think it was overly important,” Kathryn said.
“Not important! Kathryn, I thought your sense of judgment was warped
when you
married Paris, but this really tops the cake.” She scowled at Chakotay.
“I always knew you were jealous of him,” Kathryn said.
“I wasn’t. It, it’s just..” flustered, Chakotay shook his head, “I
cared about you. I still do.
Your health and safety are my concerns.”
“I know,” Kathryn said softly, “and, I know I should have told you
about it, but I just
didn’t.” Chakotay held her at arms length.
“I’m glad you realize that,” he said. He pulled her into his arms,
and spoke into her hair.
“I hope you won’t try to keep secrets from me anymore.”
“I’ll try not to,” Kathryn said, half-smiling. She pulled herself
loose, and smiled up at him,
“I thought were in the shower.”
“I was, but…”
“You were suspicious.”
“Yeah,” said Chakotay. They started back towards their room.
“Chakotay?”
“Hmm?”
“You know what you were saying about keeping secrets?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, there are a few things you should know about Mark….” Kathryn
whispered
something into Chakotay ear as they waited for the elevator.
Neelix, coming out from the kitchen a few minutes later, heard
Chakotay’s laughter
echoing down the hallway.

Kathryn’s head rested on Chakotay’s shoulder, as they rode a tram back
up the Florida
coast. He wondered what caused the grin on her sleeping face. She stirred
a few moments later.
“Have a nice nap?” he asked, smiling coyly down at her. Kathryn
chuckled, sitting up.
“Yep.”
“How’s your head?”
“Doesn’t hurt,” Kathryn said, running her hands through her hair.
There were a few
streaks of gray, but most of it had retained its reddish hue. She
stretched, looking out the
window, “how much longer until we get back?”
“Another ten minutes,” Chakotay said, watching the ancient Space Coast
go by
underneath them. Kathryn nodded, and leaned back in her seat. She removed
the small blue tab
from her arm.
“Are you sure its safe to take that out?” Chakotay asked.
“No,” said Kathryn, “but Dr. Jim said for me to check and make sure
that its working
correctly.” She found a small vial in her bag.
“I’m still not quite sure what you’re supposed to do with that,”
Chakotay said.
“It’s simple,” Kathryn said, “once a day, I fill this little thing-”
she held up the blue tab, “-
with some of the painkiller, and cover my arm with the bandage.”
“So much for swimming,” Chakotay said. Kathryn chuckled.
“I can still do whatever I want,” she said, “even…” Chakotay gave a
strangled laugh as
Kathryn patted his leg.
“Uh, huh, yeah,” he said. Kathryn was giggling now.
“I feel a bit silly, behaving like this,” she said. Chakotay gave her
a quiet look, still
smiling. She had changed so much from a few days ago. Was he responsible
for the twinkle in
her eyes, the life in her step, the new, strange liveliness to her? Or was
it her divorce from Paris,
or something else? His ego was happy to think that he was responsible.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“Yes,” Kathryn said. Chakotay gave a smile, and then nodded.
“As long as you’re happy, it doesn’t matter how silly you act,” he
said.
“I think I remember someone saying that to me before,” Kathryn said
absently.
“I heard it once in a physiology course I took in the Academy,”
Chakotay said, “when I
was training for command.”
“I think I remember that too,” Kathryn said, “I was in one of the
lessons…”
“On taking shore leave or something,” said Chakotay. Kathryn sighed,
and leaned back
against Chakotay.
“Those days seem so long ago,” she said softly, “I mean, for me it’s
been almost twenty-five years.” Kathryn’s eyes went to the front of the
tram, where several other people sat, some of
them watching her and Chakotay. He leaned over, and whispered into her
ear.
“Yes, I realize they’re watching us,” he whispered, “but I don’t
really care.” Kathryn half
smiled to herself.
Out of the blue, she murmured to him, “Chakotay, why did you leave?”
“Leave?” Chakotay said, “do you mean Starfleet or the Maquis?” Even at
the quiet
mention of the enemy, a woman at the front of the tram bristled, and
scowled back at them.
Satisfied that they were listening, and that they should be careful of
their conversation, Kathryn
nodded.
“The Maquis,” she said. The woman in the front’s scowl deepened.
Kathryn was
overcome by the strange urge to tweak this woman’s nerves.
“I left the Maquis because…” Chakotay had also noticed that every
time either said the
word Maquis’, even in their hushed, private conversation, the woman
stiffened. Then he noticed
the playing gleam in Kathryn’s eye. “I left the Maquis because of you,
actually.”
“Me?” Kathryn said, “you left the Maquis because of me?” She said
Maquis’ a bit loudly.
“I don’t understand.” Kathryn turned her head, but even out of the corner
of her eye she saw the
woman standing, and moving to whisper to the pilot. She spoke in hurried
hushed tones,
occasionally motioning back toward Chakotay. Kathryn picked up a few
words, Maquis’, spy’,
and authorities’. Chakotay had been listening too, because he had paused
in his response. After
the woman sat back down, still glaring at them, he continued.
“I just couldn’t fit in anymore. And, they said some things, about my
past…”
“What part of it?” Kathryn now also noticed a young man who was
watching them. He
looked vaguely familiar.
“Your part,” Chakotay said, “they said some things about my feelings
towards you that I…
that I couldn’t deal with then.” Kathryn caught the gist of what he was
saying, and nodded
silently. The tram came to a slow stop.
“Now debarking for Jacksonville, next stop, Old Brunswick,” the pilot
of the tram said
over the intercom. Kathryn and Chakotay stood. The woman in the front was
tensed. The young
man also stood, and stepped in front of them.
“Admiral Paris? Commander Chakotay?” he said, “it’s good to finally
see you again.”
Kathryn connected the voice with an old face.
“Vince Carrey?” she said. The man nodded, smiling.
“It’s very good to see you, Admiral.”
“It’s Admiral Janeway now,” Kathryn said.
“You finally left him?” Vince said. He was one of Lt. Carrey’s sons.
“Excuse me?”
“Dad said that everyone in Engineering knew it wouldn’t last,” Vince
said. Kathryn
smiled.
“Well, they got something right for once,” she said. She shook
Vince’s outstretched hand,
“tell your father we said hello.” Vince nodded.
“Have a nice stay in Jacksonville,” he said, and shook Chakotay’s
hand. Kathryn picked
up her bag, and left the tram with Chakotay, leaving behind the dumbfounded
woman who still sat
there, mouth gaping open.

“Interesting,” Chakotay said, as they left the tram station and went
the short walk back to
their hotel, “I was pretty sure that woman was going to have the tram
stopped and have us
arrested.”
“Me too,” Kathryn said shaking her head.
“It’s understandable though,” Chakotay said, “with the war still go
and all.”
“I find it strange though that she would fail to recognize two of the
biggest faces in recent
history,” Kathryn said.
“I know,” Chakotay said, smiling at her interesting reference, “she
probably just wasn’t
thinking.”
“That’s the problem with so many people these days,” Kathryn sighed.
“But it was nice to
see Vince, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Chakotay, chuckling, “he sure saved our butts. I don’t
know what would
have happened if he hadn’t been there.”
“We were just lucky,” said Kathryn.
“But harassing the poor woman wasn’t very nice either,” Chakotay said.

“Who said I was harassing anyone?” Kathryn laughed.
“I did,” Chakotay said.
“Since when are you an authority on everything?” Kathryn asked
mockingly.
“Since I said so.”
“Is that so….”

So, that’s it. I know, I know, it could’ve been longer, but I ran out of
steam. All comments,
suggestions, praises, polite criticisms, blunt stupidity, and requests are
welcome. Mail them to
me!

END PART THREE
END EPISODE ONE

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Not Quite Right, Conclusion

Timeship *Atlantis* Logs
NOT QUITE RIGHT (conclusion) by Walter Chmara

From the lead Orion vessel’s point of view, a strange-looking craft faded
in view from out of nowhere. It fired a beam of energy directly at them before
fading out again.
“Damage to our main engine!” cried a subordinate. “Interstellar drive is
inoperative!”
“Switch to secondary drive,” ordered the leader of this fleet. “Maintain
course toward the planet. Somehow, they can hide their ships until they fire,
which gives them away. Gunner, do your best to vaporize these devils when they
become visible.”

“Lead vessel has dropped to sublight velocity,” reported Krag. “Locking
phasers onto the engines of the next ship.”
“Fire when ready,” ordered the commodore.

Once again, *Atlantis* became visible long enough to blast the next
Orion’s engines. But as this happened, the leader’s ship fired one of their nuclear
missiles. As another Orion ship’s engines were disabled, Krag spotted the
projectile heading for them.
“Get us back under cloak, now!” cried the commodore, when he saw that
the *Atlantis* was still unphased and visible to the enemy.
“Trying, sir!” cried Antonia. “Response time on my console has dropped!
She’s acting sluggish, suddenly!”
“I can’t raise the shields!” warned Krag.
*The shields are on the same alternating circuit as the interphasing
cloak!* Antonia knew. *If that burning smell under my console means what I
think it does, we are all about to die!*
“Warp one, then! Get us out of range!” ordered the commodore. “Target
incoming missile and destroy it!”
As Antonia’s finger hit the ‘engage’ icon, she watched it fizzle out and turn
black. Did the command reach the engines? She watched the missile bearing
down on them on the main viewer.
She gasped and stood up, crossing her forearms in front of her face as
though the projectile had been personally aimed at her. Her mind lashed out
instinctively. Then, it felt like something clubbed her on the head, and she lost
consciousness.

Antonia opened her eyes. She was on a biobed in sickbay.
“How do you feel?” asked the doctor.
“Numb…and a little confused.”
“You’ve been unconscious for almost two hours,” said Zhivago.
“Apparently when your station controls started failing you, you took it upon
yourself to telekinetically divert a missile that would’ve otherwise surely
pulverized this ship. In doing so you sustained a form of feedback trauma to that
area of your brain. I’ve given you a local anesthetic to block the pounding
headache you would be otherwise having right now. The rest of us appreciate
what you’ve done on our behalf, but I won’t mince words with you. The damage to
your mind may be quite severe. I have you on a kironide infuser, which seems to
be doing you some good, but it will take some time to understand what has
happened to you. In the meantime, I need to ask you to refrain from attempting
any more telekinesis for a little while.”
Antonia gingerly nodded her agreement. “I assume the ship is out of
danger?”
“If you mean, are we still battling Orions? No. The warp drive finally did
kick in, and whisked us to a safe distance. As far as I know, our interphasing
cloak is still down. But four Orion marauders made it past us to continue on to
Earth. They have probably arrived by now, and only Onji knows how corrupted
the timeline is now.”

“Near as I can tell,” said Zam Poldegin, the Zakdorn engineer, who was on
the bridge holding the blacked HTTHXP434 unit, “the interphasing cloak was
designed for Starfleet standard power draw. Our bio-neural system gave it too
much too quickly. Phasing in, phasing out, phasing in, phasing out. It couldn’t
cope, so blooey! Somebody at Mayark didn’t do his job properly.”
“We’ll worry about who’s responsible when we get home,” vowed the
commodore, controlling his irritation. “Have you corrected the problem?”
“I’ve already replaced this unit with an addition of my own — an inhibitor
fuse. While it should prevent a repeat performance in a similar situation, there’s
no way of being sure what side effects we will experience until we try it out for
real. We’ve mixed two new systems which the drawing board said were
compatible, and clearly all the bugs *aren’t* out, yet. This is what you get when
you test things out in the field instead of in a lab, where they ought to be tested.”
“Very good. Keep running your new configuration on the simulator until
you *are* reasonably sure you know what the outcome will be in a similar
situation. I need to know that all my equipment can be depended upon in a pinch.
So far, it has not shown me that, and it nearly cost us all our lives. And Lieutenant
Antonia may have been permanently crippled because of it. Go.”
“Aye, Commodore,” the engineer said, as she disappeared behind the
turbolift doors.
“Lieutenant Saar, get us back under cloak and compute a pinpoint warp
jump. I want to be back beside the *Challenger*, right now.”

The *Atlantis* found the space shuttle *Challenger* tumbling out of
control in her orbit high above Earth. Her payload bay doors had been ripped
open, and the contents — gone. Sensors indicated no life signs aboard .
“Bodies?” asked the commodore.
“None,” replied Krag. “It is consistent with Orion pirating techniques of
the time. They would attach flying airlocks to the hull of an unarmed vessel, cut
their way in, then loot and kidnap everything of value. The Orion slave market
always considered people of exotic races to be worth a much higher price. And I
will wager no one in their sector has ever laid eyes on a human, before.”
“I want to know what the news services on Earth must be buzzing about,
right now,” said the commodore. “Assign someone to monitor those channels, and
keep me informed. All I can think about, right now, is mounting a few green
hides on my wall, as sick as that may sound. Lock on to whatever trails their ships
leave behind and follow them, warp seven.”

The trails led back to the three damaged marauders, which had been
emptied and abandoned, then they pointed a straight course for Rigel, their home
star. At warp seven, Andreyevich had every confidence they would catch up with
their quarry long before then. The question was, what exactly would they do when
that happened?
The crew didn’t have long to wait for the answer to that question.
“We are now within transporter range of the Orion fleet,” reported Saar.
“Our status is still cloaked.”
“No indications that any of them are aware of us,” added Krag.
“Hmm,” said the commodore. “Maybe this will be easy. Krag, scan each
ship for human life signs. The minute you locate them, lock on and beam them
aboard.”
“Acknowledged,” responded Krag. In seconds, he grunted. “The hulls of
these ships have something in them which is interfering with our scans. While I
can make out individual life signs, it is impossible to determine which are
specifically human.”
“Okay,” said Andreyevich resignedly. “So it’s going to be hard. No matter.
Computer. Who on board this vessel can speak the Orion language?”
The computer answered instantly. “Only one crewman. Commodore Ivan
Andreyevich.”
The commodore nodded and looked to Casey. “Then I will have to beam
over to each ship, myself, to establish where the hostages are.”
“As the captain of this ship, your first duty is to be on the bridge,” Casey
reminded him.
“Orions aren’t stupid, Commander,” said Andreyevich. “They will be able
to tell instantly when someone is speaking to them with electronic aid. As the
only available crewman who doesn’t need a universal translator in case I am
stopped and questioned, that makes my first duty to be over there.”
“As your first officer,” she continued unfazed, “I am compelled to tell you
that there is a reasonable alternative that fits the bill — which does not require you
to leave your post, sir.”
“And what would that be?”

Gerard, Krag, Casey and Zam were in transporter room one. Zam was
operating the console.
“Got one!” said Zam.
Casey touched her insignia. “Commodore, Zam believes she has detected
one of the life signs aboard the nearest marauder as being isolated.”
“Beam that person aboard, Commander,” returned Andreyevich.
“Energize,” ordered Casey, nodding.
A humanoid form took shape at pad one. It solidified into a green-skinned
man, with a very startled look on his face. Gerard was rather hoping it would have
been one of the Challenger astronauts, but that was not their luck.
The Orion looked about himself in a startled manner. He froze when he
saw Krag aiming a phaser at him.
“What is this?” demanded the Orion in Standard, thanks to the universal
translator, though his lips had formed the question in his own language.
“You are our prisoner,” Krag told him. “I will take you to where you will
be interrogated. Cooperate, and I might not even injure you, though I make
no promises, since I enjoy inflicting pain. Move!”
The Orion jumped at that last syllable, but he presented no argument to
Krag. He marched obediently in the direction Krag had indicated.
Casey waited until Krag and his prisoner left the room before she
exploded into laughter. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. A Nausicaan security
chief is a great idea!”
Zam, however, was still busy at the transporter console. “Scanning the
Orion’s topological data from the pattern buffer into the matter stream modifier
unit. Transfer complete. Modifier ready and standing by.”
Gerard took a deep breath, stepping up onto the transporter platform.
“That’s my cue. It’s show time.”
“Break a leg, David,” Casey told him. “I still think I should be the one to
go, since it was my idea.”
Gerard gave her a wry smile. “Somehow, I just can’t picture you
convincing anybody that you’re a guy, even with this thing’s help. I’m ready.”
“Maybe next mission, we’ll see. But thanks for the compliment, anyway.
Energize.”

Gerard materialized inside an empty cabin on one of the Orion ships. His
uniform had been rearranged into the same outfit their Orion prisoner wore. After
a quick look around at the strange trappings, he said, “*Atlantis*, are you
receiving my transmission?”
The commodore’s voice came through his aural implant with no problem.
“*Splendidly. Both audio and visually. In fact, I can tell you that the ornament on
the wall ahead of you is a Kzinti weapon, of all things.*”
“Great,” responded Gerard. “So these pirates even pirate *other* pirates.”
“*Let us take a look at you, so we can check your makeup.*”
Gerard watched his hands — *green* hands — reaching for his
communicator, which he plucked off his clothing and turned around to gaze into
it.

Back on the bridge of the *Atlantis*, Gerard’s new face peered at the crew
from the main viewscreen.
Casey had just popped out of the turbolift, and gasped at what she saw. “Is
that Lieutenant Gerard?”
“It’s me,” said the strange green face, with some humor. “How do I look?”
“Exactly like the fellow Krag has strapped down in the brig!” she
answered. “How do you feel?”
“Like a kid in a Halloween costume, but otherwise fine.”
“Another life sign is approaching your location,” warned Saar.
“It’s the moment of truth, Gerard,” said the commodore. “All you have to
do is repeat whatever I say to you, and you should be fine.”

“I’d cross my fingers, except I don’t know what that might mean in Orion!”
said Gerard, replacing his communicator where he hoped it wouldn’t attract too
much attention, yet still give the bridge crew a clear view.
Another Orion male entered the cabin.
“Tel hah no fah naget sel for napa hest,” he said to Gerard.
“*Fum nagah sokai pah diel*,” said the commodore’s voice in his ear.
“Fum nagah sokai pah diel,” Gerard repeated to the newcomer.
“Kao,” said the stranger, who for a moment looked like he was going to
turn to go back out, when he stopped short and turned to face him again with a
strange look. “Komelvah navu sim?”
“*Clear your throat like there is a frog in it and say ‘Kao”!*” urged the
commodore’s voice. “*Damn! We forgot to modify your vocal chords!*”
“Harrumph!,” said Gerard, hoping he didn’t just say something stupid in
Orion. “Kao.”
The other man sneered and left the room.
“*That was a close one!*” said the commodore’s voice. “*Listen carefully,
Gerard. Krag says the man you are impersonating is the captain of this particular
ship. This is good news. You’ll be able to go wherever you want without raising
too much suspicion. Just be certain you don’t smile or nod at anyone. Those are
two things Orion males don’t usually do.”
*Now he tells me,* thought Gerard. “Acknowledged. Here I go.”
Gerard made his way out of the room. As he wandered the corridors, he
saw Orions at work in various places. Some took a moment to make what he
gathered was a gesture of respect before continuing with what they were doing.
“Seems kind of crowded on board,” he mumbled when no one was
looking.
“*Don’t forget that these four ships had to absorb the crews of the three we
disabled,*” the commodore’s voice reminded him. “*This class of vessel had no
brig per se, otherwise it would be a simple matter of beaming out whoever might
be in one. You’ll have to poke your nose into every cabin on that ship to be certain
there are no humans aboard. Casey is monitoring communications, and I am
listening in on the conversations of the Orions you are passing for any clue as to
their whereabouts. We won’t need to worry about the *Challenger* payload,
though. Zam says she has found it, and we can beam it back at any time. I’d prefer
to wait until your recon mission is over.”
“Understood,” Gerard continued his inspection.

When Gerard had combed the entire ship, no human hostages were found.
Andreyevich ordered him back to the *Atlantis*.
“Loading Lieutenant Gerard’s pattern into the modifier,” said Zam, at the
console in transporter room one. “Pattern loaded.”
“Energize,” ordered Casey.
A shimmering pillar of light on the platform coalesced into Gerard.
“How do I look?” he asked.
Casey gave him a “turn around” gesture. As he did so, she looked him
over.
“You seem to be back to normal,” she told him. “Feeling any aftereffects?”
“No.”
Casey touched her com badge. “Casey to bridge. Lieutenant Gerard is
back aboard and seems to be fine. The modifier, at least, seems to be a success.”
“Well done, everyone,” said the commodore’s voice. “We’ll try the same
procedure on the lead vessel, next. Casey, when Zhivago is through with the
captain’s mind-wipe, return him to his cabin and report to me when it’s done.”
“Aye, sir,” came her reply.

Gerard was more successful when he impersonated the captain of the lead
Orion vessel. This time, the modifier changed his vocal chords to suit his new
persona, and he had an easier time of traversing this ship, as it seemed a little less
crowded than the previous one. He was also more successful when it came to
locating the *Challenger* astronauts. This became apparent on the bridge of the
*Atlantis* at the same time as it became apparent to him.
All seven were being kept in the same room, seated on the floor with their
hands tied behind their backs. There were two Orion guards standing in their
midst, who were interrogating their prisoners with their own electronic translator.
They were demanding information from the hapless crew on the invisibility
device which had cost them nearly half their fleet. The commodore instructed
Gerard in what to say in order to dismiss these interrogators. When he was alone
with them, Gerard addressed the hostages.
“This may come as a bit of a shock to you folks,” Gerard told them in
plain English. “But I’m not who I appear to be. I’m from a ship sent here to rescue
you.”
There was a moment of stunned silence among the prisoners.
“This whole day has been one shock after the other,” said one of the
women, with the name “Resnik” on her suit.
“It’s almost over,” said Gerard. “Brace yourselves. The method we’re going
to use to get you out of here is a little disconcerting to people who’ve never
experienced it before, but it’s quick. Are you ready?
The humans all nodded.
“*Atlantis*, are you able to lock onto the seven people in front of me?”
asked Gerard.
“*Positive lock*,” returned Zam’s voice in his head.
“Energize,” he ordered. He watched the astronauts dematerialize. He
probably should have warned them about Zam, too. They had never seen a
Zakdorn before, of course. Oh, well.
He knew there would be a slight delay, while Zam would be recalibrating
the device to restore him as it would bring him back. He just hoped no one would
burst in here, wanting to know what happened to the prisoners, in the meantime!

Back on board the *Atlantis*, the *Challenger* people were looking
around in awe at the interior of transporter room one.
“Yes, I imagine it is quite impressive to first-timers,” said a reasonably
normal-looking man to them in a pleasant way, even though he was standing
beside someone who looked far from normal in there eyes. “Rest assured, you are
among friends now, and are on your way home. My name is Sept Midron, ship’s
counselor, and my colleague, here, who beamed you over, is our chief engineer,
Zam Poldegin. You must have a lot of questions, and I have a lot to discuss with
you, as well. Please follow me to my office.”
“Hello!” Zam completed the setup for Gerard’s return, while the group
filed out of the room after Sept.

Everything went according to plan. Gerard returned safely inside his own
skin again, and the commodore ordered the beam out of the *Challenger’s*
payload to a cargo hold on the *Atlantis*.
“There is still the problem of the Orions knowing about Earth in this time
period,” Casey told the commodore on the bridge.
The commodore nodded his agreement. “We’ve been equipped with a
computer virus that seeks out and destroys anachronisms stored in known
computer systems. It’s called the T-virus. Lieutenant Saar, find a version of the
T-virus which is compatible with Orion technology of this date and transmit it to
each ship. The virus will send an acknowledgment signal back from each one
when its work is done.”
“Aye, sir,” Saar’s fingers tapped the console.
Gerard emerged from the turbolift. “Requesting permission to resume
post, sir.”
“Granted,” smiled the commodore. “Well done, Lieutenant. Counselor
Midron reports that the *Challenger* crew is in good condition despite their
ordeal. They are, right now, being briefed on the whole situation.”
“What’s our next step, sir?” asked Casey.
“Well, the T-virus wipe of their computer data is only one prong of the
attack. We have already relieved them of every bit of evidence they had that there
was something to exploit here. When they get home with three ships lost and
nothing to show for it except stories about an invisible spaceship, they’ll be lucky
if all they get is discredited. Orions love a good fight only when there is a
reasonable chance of winning. I don’t think they’ll be back for a long while. What
troubles me is what they were doing way over here in the first place.”
“Yes, that is very odd,” agreed Gerard. “But there is another more
immediate problem facing you. We have seven American astronauts aboard, who
were supposed to be killed 72 seconds after their ship lifted off. By now, no
doubt, the Earth is aware that they have been captured by something
extraterrestrial.”
“Maybe not,” countered the commodore.
Gerard was incredulous. “How could they not, sir?”
“For shame, lieutenant. You are the student of history here. How did the
major world governments handle UFO incidents during this era?”
“Generally with denial and cover-up, sir.”
“Precisely. We will make a small backward time jump to just after the
moment we found the *Challenger* adrift. We’ll put the shuttle back to rights,
crew included. Memories cleansed, of course. End of mission, we return home.”
It took a moment for what the commodore was implying to sink into
Gerard’s brain.
“Then… you are going to allow this timeline to proceed. You are going to
allow the *Challenger* astronauts to live.”
The commodore nodded solemnly. “I don’t know what it was that gave you
the bad feeling that you experienced viewing the *Challenger* disintegrate via
the Guardian. But sometimes a feeling is all we have to go on. You yourself said
everything fits better in the timeline in which they live. Unless you tell me that it
is imperative to sentence these people to what amounts to an execution, I would
prefer that they go back to their loved ones.”
Gerard felt his heart soar upon hearing this, as well as a grateful sting of
tears in his eyes.
“Aye, sir,” he smiled softly, as he returned to his post.
“T-virus is reporting success from each Orion vessel, Commodore,”
reported Saar. “It is now apparently wiping itself out.”
“As it should,” replied the commodore. “Take us back to Earth, warp
three. Kollos, please report to the bridge.”

*Mission log of the timeship *Atlantis*, stardate minus three one zero one
two point three. Final entry. Commodore Ivan Andreyevich recording. After
returning the American astronauts to their restored ship, we are now on course
for deep space, preparing to return home. I am confident I have made the proper
decision concerning them, but that remains to be seen upon our arrival to our
home era.
I have learned much about what this particular ship and crew is capable of
during this mission — as well as some limitations. Hopefully, future missions will
work a little more smoothly as the bugs are all worked out. I am impressed by
how everyone in this crew carried out their responsibilities, and would not
hesitate to call upon their services again. Each is anxious to get back to what they
doing before I so rudely interrupted them. Lieutenant Antonia will apparently
recover completely from the telekinetic trauma she has suffered. Zhivago says she
is already moving small objects around in sickbay. Lieutenant Gerard plans to
return to his work with the Guardian. I’ve already told him that I’m interested in
hearing what it may tell him about what we have done. As for Lieutenant
Commander Casey, I hope we can still remain friends even after I demote her…*

“You want to demote me?”
The commodore ordered Casey to his cabin in order to take back the pips
he had awarded to her at the beginning of the mission.
“I don’t *want* to. It is something I must do. In order to have you as my
second-in-command, I had to field-promote you. Being that this was a secret
mission, it would be difficult to justify to Captain DeSoto why you came back
with a higher rank.”
The commodore held out his hand, palm up.
Casey hesitated.
Andreyevich made a “come, come” gesture with his fingers.
Sighing, Casey removed the pips, placing them in his waiting hand.
“I was just beginning to like it, too,” she said.
The commodore smiled at her, as he jiggled them in his hand. “Not to
worry. I’ll put them in a safe place until you report back for the next mission.
Unless, of course, you earn them outside of the DTI framework.”

Gerard was at his station at this time, reviewing the visual data recorded
by the ship during the mission. It was so different from what he had seen so many
times before. This time, the space shuttle lifted off successfully. Andreyevich had
been proven right, according to the radio transmissions the *Atlantis* had
monitored during the mission. Despite the bizarre data received by Mission
Control and the communications blackout, no big deal had been made in the
major media. The world at large had been spared the knowledge that anything
unusual had happened in space at all. Though some fuzzy images of glowing
ellipsoids would probably turn up in a few tabloid newspapers.
He heard spontaneous applause erupt on the bridge, as Antonia made her
triumphant return to her post.
“Hey, hero,” said Saar. “Welcome back!”
Antonia took a bow and smugly sat down. “Thank you. Everyone. And
Saar, the word I believe you want is ‘heroine’.”
“Ah,” responded Saar. “Gender distinction, again, right? Strange, how a
race that claims both sexes as being equal will still find insult in even being
referred to with the wrong pronoun.”
“Saar, I just got over one headache. Don’t give me another one, okay?
And, you, historian,” she called over to Gerard. “What are you watching? I
understood the mission’s practically over.”
“Something still isn’t quite right,” said Gerard, looking over the new image
of the *Challenger* on the launchpad.
“What?” asked Antonia.
“I’m not sure,” said Gerard. Then something caught his eye.
He zoomed the image into the area of the shuttle’s booster which had the
problem in the previous timeline. He enhanced that area as much as the
equipment allowed. There was no mistake. Slightly, ever so slightly, there was a
perceptible wavering effect near the booster, which he highlighted.
“Computer, what is that?”
The computer answered in a flash. “Best probability suggests it is a
personal cloaking device.”
Gerard hit his com badge. “Gerard to Commodore Andreyevich.”

The commodore had Gerard transfer this discovery to his personal viewer
in his cabin. After seeing it himself, he ordered a course change back to earth, and
another time jump back to stardate -31013.5. He deleted the words “final entry”
from his last logging, and handed Casey back her rank pips.

Krag and a security detail stood ready in transporter room one, when the
commodore ordered the lock on and beam up of whoever it was that was
monkeying around with the *Challenger*.
The pattern in the buffer was modified to deactivate the intruder’s
cloaking device and any weaponry the intruder may have possessed. Then the
intruder was allowed to form on the pad.
It looked like a human male in some sort of white uniform, which included a
black hood which covered his entire head except for the eyes. He held something
in his arms which may have been a weapon, or at least some kind of a tool. He
looked at Krag and the other members of his security team, who all had their
phasers trained on him.
“Don’t move,” warned Krag. “You are under arrest.”
“What’s the charge?” asked the stranger.
“Suspicion of temporal sabotage,” smirked Krag.
“Well. The worst accusation left on Federation books, eh? I am in deep,
deeeeeep trouble.”
Krag didn’t appreciate the stranger’s unserious tone. “Identify yourself!”
“I believe you are required to do that first, my Nausicaan friend. You are
the arresting officer.”
“I am Krag, security officer of the DTI timeship *Atlantis*. Now you.”
“Call me the Tempus Fugitive, or TF for short. I know this will probably
ruin your day, but much as I’d enjoy being your guest, I really need to be
elsewhere right now. My apologies for leaving you now, but something tells me
we will be bumping into each other again.”
With that, the stranger disappeared in an effect that was much quicker
than their standard transporter.

Later, the senior staff met in the briefing room.
“Somehow, this Tempus Fugitive fellow managed to also abscond with his
data pattern from the transporter buffer, as well,” Zam was saying. “We can’t even
reconstruct him on the holodeck.”
“For whatever it’s worth, the *Challenger* has lifted off again without a
hitch,” added Casey. “We can’t even be sure if he was repairing the O-ring in the
ship’s booster — or did we simply keep him from damaging it?”
“So,” mused the commodore. “All we know about TF is that he is
definitely a player at this game. He recognizes a Nausicaan when he sees one and
understands Federation temporal law, which suggests he is not of this time.”
“I think the personal cloaking device he has gave *that* away,” said Krag.
“That and the fancy transporter he used.”
“Not necessarily,” spoke up Gerard. “In my work with the Guardian, I’ve
had to learn a great deal about the missions of James Kirk. He has somewhat of a
notorious reputation as a temporal violator among certain circles in the DTI.
Anyway, it was during one particular time journey back to Earth in the 1960’s that
he encountered a human of that time who had access to that kind of technology,
which baffled even Kirk’s engineer. The explanation this human gave Kirk was
that he was a descendant of humans taken from Earth by an advanced unknown
race, and trained to be returned among the people of Earth as an adult to help
steer humanity off of its path of self-destruction. In fact, history records that this
fellow, named Gary Seven, and his assistant, Roberta Lincoln had many
adventures which, in hindsight, we can now say they are two unsung heroes who
have saved this world many times over.”
“Hmm,” mused the commodore. “Whoever this advanced race is, they
seem to have evolved a more practical and humane philosophy than our own
Prime Directive. Does history also say if Mister Seven was still alive in the
1980’s?”
“Unless I’m mistaken, I believe he lived until the mid nineties, sir,”
answered Gerard.
“Then we should pay him a visit. If anyone might be able to give us a clue
about this “Tempus Fugitive,” it may be Mister Seven.”

When Casey materialized at the door of Seven’s base of operations in New
York City, she was dressed in the fashion of the day, so as not to stand out from
the crowd.
The sign on the door said “Webber Encyclopedia Research.” That was
Seven’s cover organization. She knocked on the door and waited for a response.
“Come in,” invited a woman’s voice.
Upon entering, Casey discovered the woman at a desk, pretending to be
the receptionist. She was blonde with suspicious eyes. The placard on the desk
proclaimed “Ms. Lincoln.” This was, in reality, Seven’s partner. An ordinary
human with extraordinary intelligence, and legendary loyalty to her boss.
“May I help you?” asked Lincoln, absently playing with a pencil in her left
hand.
“I need to speak with Mr. Seven.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I’m afraid not. But it is very important that I see him.”
“No one sees Mr. Seven without an appointment. He is rather busy now,
so the earliest I can schedule you is sometime next week…”
Casey sighed. “Let’s just skip the bovine excreta and get to the point. In
1968, you and he encountered humans from the future who interfered in Seven’s
sabotage of the launch of an orbital nuclear platform. Since they returned to the
future, you and he have had several interesting adventures which I could list to
you, verbatim. Do you really want me to?”
Lincoln smirked. “Who are you?”
“My name is Shelly Casey. I’m from the twenty-fourth century,
investigating tampering with the space shuttle *Challenger* which was launched
under a hour ago. In my timeline, the *Challenger* exploded seventy-three
seconds after liftoff, but that has somehow been prevented in this timeline. We
are charged with the responsibility of protecting history, and in order to do that,
we need to know which timeline is the correct one. We believe Mr. Seven may
have information that will help us to determine that.”
Lincoln put her pencil down. She had a very cynical look on her face. “I
assume you can prove everything you say.”
Casey nodded. “If it will help speed things up. Casey to *Atlantis*. Two to
beam up.”
The next thing Lincoln knew, she was standing in an alcove of a
completely different room. There was a strange-looking person operating a
console ahead of her.
Casey was standing beside her. “Go on. Touch everything. I want you to
convince yourself that this is no trick or illusion.”
“Oh, I’ve seen enough out-of-the-ordinary things in my life that I’ve
learned to trust my eyes,” Lincoln replied, slowly turning around and slyly
withdrawing what looked like a pen from a hidden pocket. “All this shows me is
that you have teleport technology. How do I know that you’re some kind of time
police? Maybe you want to change history to your liking. And maybe killing Gary
will accomplish that.”
“Don’t be absurd. We only want to ask him some questions, and then we’ll
be on our way,” insisted Casey.
Lincoln’s pen flicked out two small twinkling spheres while she concealed
it in her hand. “Prove it.”
Casey was losing her patience. “So how exactly would you like me to do
that?”
“Can you give me more details of your mission? More information about
yourselves?”
“Look, I only exposed you to *this* much because I know it’s not new to
you. Any more, and I’m violating our highest noninterference law.”
“I had a feeling you’d say something like that,” Lincoln pressed a button
on her pen, and she vanished in apparently the same way that the Tempus
Fugitive did!

Roberta Lincoln stepped out from behind a false wall inside the office
back in New York.
“Beta Five, where was I taken from?”
A feminine, yet metallic voice answered her. “An interdimensionally
phased vessel of indeterminate origin in synchronous orbit directly above this
location.”
“Could it be Omegan?”
“Probability rates at fifty percent.”
Lincoln rolled her eyes. “Great. Maybe yes, maybe no. That’s a big help. I
need time to think. Put up a teleport screen around this location. They might try to
get me back there.”
“A teleport screen will also prevent supervisor 194 from returning from
his current assignment.”
“That can’t be helped right now.”

Commodore Andreyevich was visibly sweating when Casey reported
Lincoln’s disappearance to him in his ready room.
“Zam says the transport effect was just like the one used by the Tempus
Fugitive,” she told him.
“Which opens up the possibility that it is the same model of transporter at
least, or even the same exact machine at most,” said the commodore.
“If that’s the case, Tempus Fugitive may be in league with Seven. Hell, he
might even *be* Seven,” continued Casey.
Let’s hope not. But we must make certain of it. We know where their base
is. Did she return there?”
“Zam almost locked back on her, but lost her signal. She might have
beamed to some other location, but one thing’s certain. There’s a sophisticated
transporter shield around that office, now. We can’t get through it.”
*I’m just a Starfleet salt,* thought Andreyevich to himself. *And I thought
this was going to be a simple observation mission. Good thing I did come loaded
for bear. This is going to be more complicated than anyone bargained for.*

“Beta Five, is there any way I can eliminate that vessel as a threat
*without* costing anyone aboard any permanent injury?” asked Lincoln, pacing
back and forth in front of the computer’s interface console.
“Computing,” it answered, its thinking processes kicking into overdrive.
“There are four ways currently available to you.”
“Give me the details of each way.”

The Red Alert klaxon began to blare again on board the *Atlantis*,
bringing the commodore and first officer to the bridge in a hurry.
“Report,” ordered the commodore.
“Something is happening outside of the ship, sir,” explained Saar. “I’m not
exactly sure what that is yet, but it is affecting the attitude controls.”
“It’s as if something has us by the interphasing cloak and is pulling us
down to the planet by it,” added Antonia. “Bizarre as that sounds.”
The commodore knew that as long as the cloak was running, they did not
physically exist in the normal universe. Nothing here should have been able to
touch them. Unless…
“There must be something else in I-space besides us,” concluded the
commodore aloud.
“But our sensors have all been calibrated to perceive normal space,” said
Casey.
“We can’t decloak, and Zam won’t be able to recalibrate before whatever
has us does what it wants with us,” said the commodore. “Fine, then. Go to Blue
Alert. Antonia, prepare the ship for landing. We will decloak when are below the
radar horizon. Where exactly are we being pulled to?”
“Somewhere in the middle of the north Atlantic Ocean, assuming we
continue on this path,” said Antonia.
Casey’s eyebrows went up. “Is this ship capable of landing on water?”

Supervisor 194, code named Gary Seven, was pinned down by gunfire in a
Brazilian jungle. He had followed up on clues left behind by two Omegans he had
bumped into several times since he first came to live on Earth, and that led him to
his current predicament. They were a wily pair, and always had managed to elude
his grasp in the past. There were also some hairy moments in his dealings with
them in which he barely escaped with his own life. This time looked like it was
going to be a case of the latter. He hoped.
His companion, Isis, had scouted on ahead in the form of a tropical bird.
She hadn’t returned in hours, and he was beginning to worry about her. Isis was
not a native to this planet at all, even though she had lived here just as long as he
did. She had the ability to transform herself into a reasonably passable imitation
of any other form of life she had gotten to know thoroughly, and over the years
they had worked together she had grown quite cocky about it.
*Almost reckless*, Seven thought. *In the jungle, a small brightly-colored
bird may not stand out to the eyes of man or Omegan, but she will to every
hungry beast that runs, flies, or slithers. I hope she’s okay.*
His fears came to an end when he heard the flap of wings and a welcome
telepathic voice in his head. *Gary, you should know by now that I’m always
okay.*
“You can’t blame me for worrying, sometimes, though You are not
indestructible.”
Another hail of bullets zinged through the air, just over his head.
*Look at it this way. If I was, life would be a lot less interesting. The
Omegan base is about half a kilometer due north. If we head west, we can put
some distance between us and the snipers, circle around clockwise and surprise
them from the north.*
Seven took out his pocket audio recorder, the one he was using to keep a
vocal diary of this mission. He had removed the chip which held his notes,
popped in an empty one, and recorded a few minutes’ worth of
machine gun sound effects. Then he turned up the volume and set it to continuous
play.
“Let’s go,” he told Isis, leaving the device behind. She flew off in the
direction she had indicated, and he followed, staying close to the ground.
Several hours later, when one of the snipers discovered that it was a small
machine that had kept them all back all that time, he put a few bullets through it
in disgust. His superiors would definitely not be amused.

Isis was waiting for Seven just a few meters north of the Omegan bunker,
back in human form and with her back against a tree. When he joined her, he
tossed her a spare servo, which she activated with a flick. Hers sent out a
detonating signal which would jar any explosive booby traps ahead of them,
prematurely.
A mine went off just in front of the north entrance. Another explosion
could be heard inside the bunker. Seven and Isis nodded to each other, then
stormed the entrance.
The inside was a shambles. Everything was on fire and smoke was rapidly
filling up inside. Quickly, the two of them performed a quick search before the
heat and smoke forced them back outside, coughing.
Seven noticed that Isis had found a piece of paper, which she was reading.
It caused her to burst into laughter. Noticing his inquisitive look, she passed it to
him.
It said, “Not today, my friends.” It was signed with a small Greek letter —
an omega.

The *Atlantis* was now rapidly approaching the surface of the ocean.
“Deploy aqualanding gear,” ordered the commodore. “On my mark, drop
interphasing cloak and ease her down as gently as you can. …Mark!”
Antonia acknowledged the orders.
Underneath the ship, several pontoon-like projections clicked into place,
as the vessel itself sprang into visibility, gliding only meters above the water.
“All hands, prepare for splashdown!” cried the commodore, as the ship
was suddenly assaulted by atmospheric pressure on all sides.
The ship’s thrusters slowed their descent to a manageable speed. The
pontoons began skimming the water, showering white spray in their wake.
Everyone continued to hold their breath until all forward motion came to a
dead stop. The main viewer showed a gently rising and falling horizon of blue
water. They were afloat.
“Andreyevich to all hands. Splashdown successful. Well done, everyone.”

“Unidentified space vessel has vanished from interspace,” reported the
Beta Five computer, back at Seven’s office in New York.
“Where is it, now?” asked Lincoln.
“Am no longer able to track.”
Lincoln sighed. She hoped she had done the right thing. She couldn’t wait
for Gary and Isis to get back from Brazil.
“All right. Return the drone from I-space, and let me know if Gary or Isis
calls in.”
“Am already in contact with 194.”
Roberta’s eyes widened. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“Contradiction of fact. I did say so two sentences ago.”
Now she was rolling her eyes. “Just put him on.”
Seven’s voice came rolling in, loudly and clearly. “Roberta, why are you
under teleport shield?”
“Gary, do you remember when we first met back in 1968? Those two guys
who said they came from a spaceship from the future?”
“Yes. The Vulcan and his commanding officer. Have they returned?”
“I’m not sure. Some woman teleported me to another place, possibly their
spaceship. They claim they are some sort of time police from the twenty-fourth
century. Specifically, she said the space shuttle launch today was supposed to
blow up after liftoff and it didn’t. They say they want to question you about that.
Beta Five says there’s a fifty-fifty chance that they are Omegans.”
“Beta Five,” asked Seven. “Where is this vessel now?”
“Am unable to track.”
” Uh…Gary?” came Lincoln’s hesitant voice. “I…had to make some kind of a
decision about them, sooo…”
Over in Brazil, Seven felt the beginning of a headache. His hand went to
his forehead. “What did you do?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Well…I sorta had Beta Five try to soft land them…in the ocean.”
There was silence for a long moment, then Seven’s voice said, “Beta Five,
drop the teleport screen and bring us home.”

Once Seven and Isis were back, Lincoln briefed them on all the details,
with the Beta Five computer filling in supplementary data.
“I know you did what you thought best, Roberta,” admonished Seven. “But
even on the chance that they were Omegans, they still deserve better than to
drown. We have had a few encounters with ones who were on our side, you
know.”
“Okay, smart guy,” was her retort. “What would you have done?”
“That’s become moot. The question is, what do we do now? Beta Five, has
any of the world’s communication channels mentioned any reference to sighting
this unknown craft?”
“Negative,” said the computer.
“Well that’s something, anyway. I want to take a look at them, myself, if
that is possible. Beta Five, I want you to locate for me any oceangoing vessel
near that splashdown point, preferably one that carries aircraft that I can borrow.
When you find it, set the teleport coordinates for me.”
“Ready,” said the Beta Five.
As Seven went to the teleport nook, Lincoln asked, “So, how did the
mission go, anyway?”
“Isis will fill you in,” he said, dematerializing.
Lincoln turned her attention to the dark haired “woman,” who merely
smiled back at her.

“The good news is,” reported Zam from engineering, “nothing was
damaged during the landing. Theoretically, we can lift off, recloak, and get back
into orbit at any time, though, as far as I know, a water liftoff has never actually
been attempted by one of these ships.”
“Understood,” acknowledged the commodore, on the bridge. “Actually,
this is not a bad situation at all. We can save enormous power by just floating
here out in the middle of nowhere. Who needs the cloak, when there is no one
here to see you? And with whoever brought us here thinking we’ve been
eliminated, we can resume our investigation.”
“That’s an assumption, Commodore,” said Gerard, at his post. “For all we
know, being brought here was just phase one. Phase two may be to sink us at any
moment. And how do we lift off without the cloak running? The whole world
would start tracking us. And if we engage it, that whatzit in I-space could seize us
again and continue to tow us who-knows-where.”
“Worrying about that is my job, David,” said the commodore, jovially.
“Do you see any signs of worry on this face?”
“…No, sir.”
“Excellent. That is because worrying is way down on the bottom of my list
of things that need accomplishing. Antonia, keep an eye on the sensors and steer
us way clear of the range of any other craft that may approach the vicinity. In the
meantime, I want to hear suggestions in the briefing room on how to reach Mister
Seven.”

Seven had appeared on the deck of an aircraft carrier on NATO
maneuvers a few hundred miles to the northeast of the *Atlantis* with his servo
set to temporarily paralyze certain voluntary nerve impulses from the brain. He
allowed himself to be apprehended and brought before the captain as a stowaway.
Once the servo had done its magic to the officers on the bridge, they were open to
any suggestions he cared to make. He suggested that the captain order a few
subordinates to take him up in a VTOL aircraft for a little spin towards the
southwest.

Commodore Andreyevich had been called back from the briefing room by
Antonia, who insisted that an aircraft was approaching too rapidly to move the
ship out of its sight. It was already on the screen when he emerged back on the
bridge. “Sensor data!”
“Vehicle is identified as a Bell-Boeing V-22, used by the military for
rescue operations,” reported Krag. “There are three men aboard. They are
transmitting a radio message. To us!”
“Let’s hear it,” sighed the commodore.
Attention U.S.S. *Atlantis*. Can you hear me?”
Andreyevich realized that the pilots must have read the ship’s ID on the
hull. “No response. Ready tractor beam. I want them brought inside the shuttle
bay as gently as we can.”
“Aye, sir,” acknowledged Krag. “Tractor beam standing by.”
The voice continued to speak. “If you can hear me, this is Seven. I
understand you have been looking for me.”
This stunned everyone on the bridge. Could it be true? Gary Seven had
come to them?
“The voiceprint does match what we have on file, sir,” reported Krag.
“Krag,” said the commodore. “Can you encase a radio transmission inside
of a laser beam and aim it at that aircraft, so that my response is only picked up
by them on this frequency? I don’t want whoever else may be monitoring to hear
it.”
“No problem, sir,” said Krag, touching a few icons. “Laser-focused
transmission ready.”
“Put me on.”
A sound effect signified the microphone was live, and the commodore
sent his message. “Standby, Mister Seven. We will be bringing your craft aboard
ours momentarily. On my signal, you will cut your engines. Understood?”
“Understood, *Atlantis*,” came the reply.

“Roberta understandably panicked,” Seven told Andreyevich in the
briefing room, later. “We’ve had some unpleasant experiences with the Omegans
since the last starship came here from the future almost twenty years ago. We
even had to appropriate some of their own technology in order to fight them.”
The V-22 was allowed to return to the carrier, when Seven assured
Andreyevich that the two men would not remember seeing the *Atlantis*, nor
even meeting Seven.
“You’re referring to the object she put into I-space which forced us down
here?” asked the commodore.
“Exactly. It was the best way she could think of to keep from being
teleported by you again without outrightly destroying you. I’m just glad your
vessel can float.”
“As are we,” agreed the commodore, with a grin. “Tell me, Mister Seven,
how is it that you were certain we weren’t Omegans?”
“I know them well. Roberta wouldn’t have been able to defeat you that
easily with one of their own weapons if you were. And not all of them have bad
intentions for the Earth, but the ones who do would never have hesitated to kill
her and ransack my base of operations rather than try to talk to her or enlist her
aid. Little things do add up to safe hunches. Now, it’s your turn, Commodore.
Roberta told me a little about what you want from me, but I’d like to hear the full
story now.”
Andreyevich took a deep breath and explained the entire *Challenger*
story to him, up to the appearance of the Tempus Fugitive.
“Well,” said Seven after absorbing it all in. “I can see why you suspected
me. All I can tell you is that I am not the one you’re looking for. If you have any
Vulcans aboard your ship, I will be happy to submit to a mind meld, for proof. I
haven’t tampered with a space shot since 1968.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said the commodore. “However, could you at
least point me in the right direction as to who this Tempus Fugitive might be?”
Seven shook his head. “He sounds most likely to have come from your
time. If he went to the trouble of implicating me to you, I would imagine it was
because he wanted you to waste your time with me, rather than interfere with
what he is doing now. A diversionary tactic.”
“For what?” nodded Andreyevich. “That’s what troubles me. Very well,
Mister Seven, I won’t keep you any longer from your current mission. I know how
vital it is that you capture the two Omegans who stole the computer component.”
Seven actually grinned. “So I get them this time, eh? Listen, I know you
can’t tell me everything you know, so I won’t ask. But maybe you can return the
favor and point *me* in the right direction. I lost track of both of them in Brazil,
and I don’t have any clue right now as to how to proceed.”
“I don’t know…”
“It is your history I’m trying to save,” Seven prompted.
Andreyevich’s expression didn’t change. “I hear Melbourne is lovely this
time of year.”
“Of course,” nodded Seven knowingly. “I understand. Thanks.”
He stood up, withdrawing his servo.
“One more thing, before you go…” added the commodore.
“Yes?”
“In three month’s time, you will be in the Soviet Union. Be sure to stay
away from the region north of Kiev on April 26th. You were probably going to,
anyway, but I am telling you this to be sure. If you think you’ve lived through
interesting times so far, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

When Seven returned to New York, Andreyevich ordered the *Atlantis* to
recloak and liftoff. The ship maneuvered brilliantly, and soon they were headed
away from Earth. At the turnaround point, the commodore ordered Kollos to time
jump them home about a month after they initially left. This would make it look
to everyone outside of the DTI that the *Atlantis* had been on a normal Starfleet
mission for that long.
As the ship was on final approach to spacedock back in the twenty-fourth
century, Casey turned in her pips to the commodore, while he dictated his final
log entry of the mission. Everyone aboard prepared to return to their previous
assignments, until called upon again to serve on this ship.
They safely docked. DTI specialists came aboard and began clearing
crewmembers for leave. Commodore Andreyevich congratulated each of his
department heads for a fine maiden voyage as they disembarked and cautioned
each one not to speak of the mission to anyone outside of the DTI. If called to
another secret temporal mission, he would definitely use them again. In no time,
*Atlantis* was empty, save for a few mysterious DTI operatives, and the
commodore.
Andreyevich readied his report for his shadowy superior. He was certain that the
DTI chief wouldn’t be very happy with the commodore’s decision to let the
averted disaster stand, but he was prepared to defend it tooth and nail when he
entered the black man’s office. Instead, he got an odd surprise.
“Welcome back, Commodore,” smiled the other man, behind his desk. “I
just finished reviewing the *Atlantis* data records of your mission. I knew you
could do it. I am glad you didn’t disappoint me.”
“May I ask to what you are referring, sir?”
“Why, the *Challenger* mission, of course. You successfully preserved
the timeline, *and* discovered the probable saboteur, despite some hairy
moments. It is a shame you didn’t learn more about this Tempus Fugitive. But
there will be other missions. Right now, *Atlantis* is being readjusted, so that the
bugs you found won’t be happening again. As a seasoned time traveler myself, I
can tell you these sort of missions get both easier and harder with every
assignment. Easier, in that you’ll soon be an old hand at it, and harder, in that with
every success you’ll be getting tougher assignments. And not only concerning
Earth history, either. Was there something you wanted to personally add, before I
close this file?”
“No, sir.”
In actuality, the commodore was astonished. He hadn’t expected this. Was
it some kind of test? *Did* he actually succeed in restoring a perverted timeline?
Or did he create a new one by saving the *Challenger* crew, only nobody here
knew it because they were all part of it?
He didn’t know. Only time would tell. If time did tell, that is.

Lieutenant Shelly Casey returned to her position aboard the *Hood*
wondering how fair it was for Starfleet to allow her to be drafted for these kind of
missions, get field promotions, then get busted down again when they no longer
needed her talents elsewhere (or elsewhen). The more she thought about it, the
more it angered her. It just wasn’t quite right.
When a shipmate jokingly referred to her as “Hot Cheeks,” she came
dangerously close to striking a fellow officer.

As for Lieutenant David Gerard, he relived the successful launch of
America’s first teacher in space via the Guardian of Forever, when he got his turn
with it. Had the crew of the *Atlantis* done the right thing? Who knew?
All *he* knew was that it felt right.

Posted in Miscellaneous | Tagged | Leave a comment

Red Alert

By: Kristen Jones <rkjones@ipass.net>

Red Alert
“Red alert!” Ben Sisko screamed at the people in Ops. “O’Brien, get those
shields back up, now. We can’t take anymore of a beating.”
“Aye, sir,” Miles O’Brien said, with pain lacing his voice. An exploding console
had left him with second degree burns on his face, as well as one useless arm at the
moment.
“Where the hell is Bashir?” Sisko questioned. “Somebody find a medic for these
people!”
Miles sighed and thought back to how it had all happened.

Everyone had been in Quark’s taking a well deserved break from the day’s work.
All, that is, except Julian Bashir. He had been stuck in the infirmary treating an outbreak
of Andarian flu among the Bolian people. He finally staggered into the bar and plopped
down in a seat about ten p.m.
“Oh, gods, why does this always happen to me?” he moaned, head in hands.
“What do you mean?” Jadzia had asked.
“Do you want to know what I’ve had to put up with today? A hysterical mother
and a kid with a fractured arm, a pregnant woman going into false labor, two engineering
workers falling off the Promenade rail in a drunk stupor, plus I’ve had to treat all these
cases of Andarian flu and I’m very quickly running out of compatible medicine for the
Bolians.” He sighed and put his head in his arms.
Jadzia looked at him in sympathy. “What you need is a stiff drink.
Unfortunately, you’re a doctor so no can do. But I’ll buy you a synthale anyway.” He
looked at her gratefully.
“Miles, come on. We’ve got to get to Ops,” she said after awhile.
“All right. See you, Julian.” Julian smiled tiredly and stood up to go back to the
infirmary. It was at that moment that they were attacked.
“What the-?” Miles wondered and stood up, racing to ops with Jadzia. “Sir,
what’s wrong?” he yelled when he reached Sisko.
“The Klingons have hit us. They decloaked off port side of upper pylon three.
Then they hit us. Miles, I want you to get to the console and see if you can get us some
more power to the shields. Dax, start helping Kira get those weapons back on line.
Bashir-where is Doctor Bashir?” They all looked around, but he was not there.
“He must be in the infirmary,” Miles said. “Julian, can you hear me? Julian,
where are you? Computer, locate Doctor Bashir.”
“Doctor Bashir is in the infirmary.”
“Dax, you get a team to find him. There are going to be dead people here soon if
we don’t have a doctor here,” Sisko commanded.
“Aye, sir. Rogers, Johnson, Smith, you’re with me.” They raced out of ops in the
direction of the turbolift. “Promenade,” she commanded.

Miles sighed and worked at getting the weapons systems back online. The blast
from the console had given him the burns that were making every movement feel like
agony.
“O’Brien, how are you coming along?” Sisko asked, his voice strained.
“Just a few more seconds, sir.” He punched the last command in. “There, do it!
It’s up!”
The commbadge chirped. “Benjamin, we can’t find Julian. His communicator’s
here, but he’s not.”
“What happened?” Sisko asked.
“We’re assuming when the Klingons boarded, they must have taken him. The
nurses and several patients are gone as well.”
“Well, dammit, don’t just stand there. Find them!” He slammed his hand down
on the table. “O’Brien, get your people up here. You’ve just become nurses.”
Miles sighed. This was not something he wanted to be doing right now. “But sir,
I’m the only person here who can keep these weapons system online. I can get my
people here, but otherwise, the weapons will fail and the station will be taken over.”
“All right! Just do something.”

Julian Bashir awoke with a blistering headache. At first, all he could see were
fuzzy images. Then he recognized Nurse Jabara kneeling down beside him.
“Doctor, are you all right?”
“I think so. What happened?”
“We were attacked by the Klingons. You and the rest of us managed to get some
of the people out of the infirmary when the computer exploded. We’re in Quark’s right
now.”
“Well, what am I doing lying on the floor, for goodness sake?” He cried.
“One of the ensigns panicked and when you tried to calm him down, he hit you
over the head with a flask of Earth brandy.”
Julian smiled at this and then winced. “Where is everyone else?”
“They’re all trying to fight off the Klingon attack. Sisko’s been screaming for
you for awhile now.”
“Oh, well I’d better-hey! Where’s my combadge?”
“You must have dropped on the way out of the infirmary,” Jabara replied.
“Julian!” came a relieved call from the doorway. Julian looked over and saw
Jadzia standing there with a couple of engineering technicians from ops.
“I’m fine, Jadzia, just a sore head. Where is everyone, anyway?”
“Either in ops or in surrounding parts of the station. Benjamin needs you up there
right away. They’ve got the engineering crew on skeleton detail to try to fix everything
before the next attack.”
“Next attack? You mean they’ve stopped?”
“Yes, we succeeded in driving them away from the station to regroup. Starfleet
reinforcements should arrive in a few hours.”
They raced to ops with Nurse Jabara on their heels.

“Bashir, where have you been?” Sisko yelled as the turbolift stopped and they
entered ops.
“It’s a long story, sir, one we really don’t have time for at the present.” He
replied.
“All right, just start treating some of these people,” Sisko said, voice softening.
Bashir nodded, and went over to Miles. “Hello, what have we here?” he
muttered.
“Stop it, Julian, just fix my arm,” he snapped.
“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it,” he stood and started to walk off.
“All right! I’m sorry, now will you please fix my arm so I can do my job?” Miles
cried.
“Sure,” he replied and the job was done in a matter of minutes.
O’Brien stood and walked over to the console. “The Klingons are headed around
to the starboard side of the habitat ring. They’re going to try to take out the weapons
array from their point.” He looked at Sisko.
“All right, we need someone to be there when the weapons go down to manually
restart them.” O’Brien started to answer but was stopped by Sisko. “I need you here,
Chief.”
Julian jumped up and started toward the turbolift. Sisko caught his arm as he ran
by. “Sir,” he whispered, “if I’m going to die today, at least let me die feeling like I did
something to help.” He said nothing more, only waited.
Sisko stared into his eyes. From experience, he knew when a man was serious or
when he wanted glory. Bashir, he decided, just wanted to help. “All right. But don’t get
killed. We need you here. Take Jadzia along with you to restart the weapons. It takes
two people.”
Jadzia nodded, and she and Julian turned and ran out of ops. Sisko sighed and
turned his attention back to the main view screen, bracing for the attack. When it came,
he was flung to the side and everything went black.

Bashir and Dax were running along the habitat ring, desperately trying to beat the
Klingons to the weapons array. They didn’t make it. Julian was flung against a wall and
lay there stunned. Jadzia managed to keep her footing when thrown beside him.
“Julian, are you all right?” came the voice through fuzzy thoughts. He groaned.
“I think so. We have to get to the weapons array.” He started to get up and
gasped as a horrific pain ripped through his side.
Jadzia pushed him back. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re probably bleeding
internally with broken ribs.”
“It doesn’t matter. We have to do this or we’ll all die here.”
Jadzia looked at him. She finally nodded and helped him up. They hurried as
fast as they could and reached the weapons array.
“On three,” Julian said. “One, two, three!”
They heaved and pushed the flat paneling off the wall area that housed the central
weapons fixtures. “All right, we need to, um, realign the phasers and push this chord to
connect with the torpedoes.” Jadzia nodded and this was accomplished in very short
order.
“Benjamin,” she called through her combadge. There was no answer. “Chief
O’Brien.” No answer again, either. She looked at Bashir. They both raced to the
turbolift to ops.
“Oh my-,” Julian muttered when they were able to survey the damage. He ran
over to Sisko. “He’s breathing, but he’s definitely got a concussion and possible brain
hemorhaging,” he muttered.
Jadzia ran over to Miles. “He’s alive, just unconscious from what I can tell.”
They hurridly check out everyone in ops, relieved to find only a few fatalities and
relatively minor injuries. A beeping system caused Jadzia to run over to the
communications console. “They’re hailing us. Patching it through.”
Bashir and Dax turned to the main viewscreen. Gowron’s face appeared in front
of them. “Ah, so I see we have accomplished our mission.”
Julian spoke up. “What would you like us to do? I’m sure we all want this to end
as peacefully as possible.”
“Ah, now you are blunt about these things, aren’t you, human. No beating around
the bush I see. All right, I will tell you. What we want is for Federation forces to move
out of newly acquired Klingon territory. We want you to clear out within the next ten
days or you will all be destroyed.”
“Let me talk to my superiors on Ritlik 7. We may be able to nego-,” he began.
“NO Negotiations! Anyway, your superiors on Ritlik 7 have all been destroyed.”
Bashir paled visibly and started. Gowron smiled at this, an evil, cunning smile that made
you hate him immediately. It reminded Bashir of how much he hated the Klingons.
“What if we can negotiate some sort of exchange or extended time limit? The
Starfleet command will need time to organize transports in this part of space.”
Gowron thought. Even he knew that Bashir was right. It would take several more
days than he had originally thought to evacuate all people from DS9 and surrounding
stations. Also, he being an honorable man, he was not willing to kill these people for
being willing to comply. He nodded. “Done. You and another crew member will meet
me on my ship in six hours. Six hours. Do not be late.” He cut the transmission.
“Why did he ask for you?” Jadzia questioned.
“Well, as you know, my father was a diplomat. It’s not written in history, but
there was a period of about a year when my father was about thirty five or so and I was
eight, when the Klingon peace treaty with the Federation got a little-strained. He was
the lead negotiator of the revised treaty. You learn to remember things like that. I
suppose Gowron knew of my diplomatic training. That’s why he chose me.”
Jadzia looked at him. “Well, have you noticed that you have blood running down
your face? That’s why I asked why he chose you. You look terrible.”
He felt along his cheeks until he came to the source of the cut. “Huh, must have
hit my head when I fell.” He started back to the turbolift and winced. “Guess I forgot
about those ribs, too.”
Jadzia nodded and took him by the arm. He leaned heavily on her as they made
their way to the infirmary. As they walked, she couldn’t help but be aware of his
presence. He smelled good, like a mild cologne, not too heavy. She breathed it in and
resisted the urge to run her fingers through his thick dark hair. Suddenly, she was
mortified. What are you thinking? He’s a human, you’re a Trill. Stop it!, the symbiont
hissed in her mind. She closed her eyes and kept walking.
They finally reached the infirmary. She lead Julian to a bed and made him lie
down. “I’m going to run a tricorder over you,” she said. He nodded. His injuries aren’t
that bad, she realized.
“Okay, I’m going to give you a bone regenerator pill,” she said. Julian opened his
mouth and took the pill. She helped him to sit up. “All right, now stand up. We have
work to do.”
He swung his legs over the bed and she helped him off. As he stepped down, he
stumbled and fell into her arms. They stood there like that, Julian wrapped in her
embrace, for almost a full minute until he finally coughed and backed off.
“Well, let’s see what we have to do with Starfleet to prepare this,” and strode off.
She stood still, her mind in a turmoil. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was
a joined Trill. She couldn’t have feelings for a non joined, especially a human. But she
did and it scared her. “I’ll just have to keep my distance while we’re on the ship,” she
decided.

Julian and Jadzia walked toward the runabout docked in the shuttle bay.
“Jadzia,” he said, “There’s something we need to discuss.” He paused, looking at
here face and continued. “I’m prepared to offer the Klingons honorable combat to take
back the station.”
Jadzia stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him. “Are you insane?! You
can’t fight Klingons. And if you could, these aren’t simulations, Julian. You could get
killed.”
Julian grinned and asked, “What do you think I do in the holosuites with the
safeties off all the time?” and left it at that.
She looked at him incredulously then shook her head and walked on. “I just hope
you know what you’re doing.” She couldn’t quell the sudden fear that had arisen in her
mind. “He can’t die,” she thought. “This shouldn’t be happening. It’s not like him to do
something this bold. I’ll try to stop him.”
“Julian,” she said as they sat down in the runabout. “Why don’t you just go home
and let someone else handle the negotiations? I mean if DS9 were lost, you’d have
someplace to go.”
He looked at her and said quietly, “Deep Space Nine is my home, Jadzia. I left
my parents when I was fifteen. I can’t go back to Earth. That’s why I’m doing this. My
entire life was nearly destroyed once and I’m not going to let that happen again.” He
hadn’t told her about the genetic enhancement. Sisko had vowed to keep it quiet and he
wasn’t about to say anything that would jeopardize it now.
She looked at him. “What did Starfleet say?”
“Do whatever you have to just don’t lose that station.”
“Does that include killing the highest respected member of the Klingon high
counsel?”
“It includes everything.” They walked on in silence until they reached the
runabout Rio Grande. Julian stowed his gear in the back and reached to take Jadzia’s
belongings. Their hands met and an electric charge went through him. He looked into
her eyes and quickly turned away. “Well, let’s head out,” he said brightly.
She turned her head downward for a moment, willing herself not to cry. She
hadn’t felt this way about anyone for a long time. She took a deep breath and followed
him into the heart of the small ship.

“Ah, so I see you have brought your pretty little Trill friend along, Doctor,”
Gowron sneered as they boarded the Rak’Tah, Gowron’s ship.
“Yes. Now, where can we begin negotiations?” he asked brightly, being careful
not to step over the bounds of protocol.
“Right this way, Doctor.” They entered a formal room, obviously Gowron’s
personal ready room on the ship. Three other Klingons were seated and so was a
translator for those without communicators.
Bashir and Dax sat down beside each other. Julian paid no attention to Jadzia but
instead focused on each member around him. “Well, old boy, if there’s one thing dad
taught you it was keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer,” he muttered to
himself. He surveyed each member of the Klingon high counsel seated before him as
each was introduced.
Ma’Tok was a large brute of a man, darker skinned than most with a cold gleam
in his eye. K’Kas was a bit smaller but no less thin. When Bashir looked at him, he
grinned evilly. Finally, there was She’tek. Of the three, he frightened Bashir. There was
nothing in his eyes but blood lust and Bashir knew that if he ever had a chance to kill
him, he would.
Jadzia looked at him. “Well, we’re here, now what do you suggest?”
“First, we’re going to reason an evacuation limit. Then I’ll give him my
proposal.”
Gowron looked at him. “Well, Doctor, it seems as though we have some
important business to discuss. Let’s start. I’m prepared to allow fifteen days for an
evacuation of the station and I-”
“That’s not good enough,” Julian interrupted. “We need at least twenty three
before Starfleet can send enough ships to the area to pull out all forces in the system.”
He waited. This was only a buy for time. The station could be evacuated within eighteen
days. He just needed time.
Gowron scowled. “Seventeen.”
“Twenty two.”
“Eighteen.”
“Twenty one.”
“Well, we’ll haggle at this one until it reaches twenty. I will agree to give you
that.” Julian nodded. “All right, then, get off my ship before I-”
Again, Julian interrupted. “I have a proposal for you, Gowron. What if you gave
me the chance to win the station back in honorable combat? Would you leave the station
and the system?”
“No, human, that is unacceptable.”
“Are you afraid to challenge me, Gowron? Now, I don’t think you with your
distinguished war record would be afraid to challenge a human half your size?”
Gowron seethed with anger. Now he would have to fight the human. His honor
depended on it. “Yes, but let me choose a fighter for me. I am older now, and not in as
good of shape as I used to be.” Bashir nodded. “I choose She’tek to fight for me.”
Jadzia gasped and pulled Julian closer to her. “Not even I could fight that,” she
whispered to him.
He pulled back. “We don’t have a choice.”
Jadzia looked at him and sighed. She figured now was the chance to tell him how
she felt. “I may never see him alive again,” she thought.
They walked onto a circular ring in the center of the ship. Jadzia opened her
mouth to start talking, but Gowron lifted his voice over hers and began to speak.
“A fight to the death,” he said. That was all. The Klingons began to yell
enthusiastically and stomped their feet. He turned to Bashir. “Your weapon of choice,”
and threw off a blue curtain covering a table of Klingon Bat’leths.
Julian paused, his eyes searching for which to fight with. Then he smiled and
walked over to the duffel bag he had brought with him onboard ship. He reached in and
pulled out a long, beautiful English broadsword. “I prefer my own weapon,” he
answered, turning the hilt in his hand.
Jadzia gawked. “How did you get that?” she asked him.
“One of my ancestors fought in one of the crusades for King Richard of England.
It’s been in my family ever since.”
“He must have been a noble to carry a sword like that around.”
Indeed, it was a beautiful sword. The hilt was of pure gold and ornately carved to
resemble a cross. The blade itself was most remarkable, though. “That’s emerald,”
Jadzia muttered, studying it. A long streak of emerald stone was set in the center of the
blade, giving it an ethereal quality.
“Yes,” Julian said, “Thomas of Gaston had this crafted for his son, the crusader.
His name was Daniel, and he died fighting. A loyal friend, however, returned it to the
family because the body couldn’t be recovered.”
“Get on with it!” Gowron yelled, quickly becoming impatient.
Julian nodded and proceeded to swing the sword around, testing the weight,
getting a feel for it. He hadn’t used it in a long time. It felt good.
“On my mark, you will enter the ring. When my hand falls, you will begin,”
Gowron said, eyeing Julian with hate. He nodded. “Good. Then on my mark…Go!”
Julian and She’tek entered the ring, circling each other. The Klingon had put on a
ceremonial fighting outfit while Julian had taken off the top of his tunic for freedom of
movement.
“Julian wait!” Jadzia cried and he backed out of the ring. She ran up to him and
threw her arms around his neck. “Don’t you dare die on me out there, lieutenant, that’s
an order.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered and without warning, gave her a long kiss. She
stood back gasping. “What was that for?”
“I’ll tell you later.” He turned to Gowron and nodded.
“Let the match begin!” he yelled to the crowd.
Julian and She’tek circled each other warily, each studying the other, hoping to
find a weakness. Without warning, She’tek charged. “Die!” he snarled at Bashir.
Julian counterd the blow with a parry from the sword. “All right, old boy, what
did he say about these situations? Ah, yes, attack!” He thought to himself and did exactly
what the advice suggested. He ran toward the Klingon, attempting to thrust the sword at
him, but at the last minute, he twisted the blade around and connected with She’tek’s
arm.
“A mortally wounded animal can still fight, so disarm him before he can.” Julian
remembered a wise friend saying that to him as a boy of eight. The blade sliced through
the Klingon’s arm, cutting to the bone. She’tek went down long enough for Bashir to
connect with his head by means of the hilt of the sword.
She’tek howled, “I will see you dead, human!” and launched himself at Julian.
He had only the power of one arm, but it was enough. The two exchanged blow after
blow, neither gaining the upper hand until She’tek used his bat’leth to slam it into
Julian’s side, leaving a long, bloody trail.
Julian went down, never crying out. In that split second, She’tek swung the
Klingon sword down, but a last ditch effort by Bashir sent the sword away from its mark,
hurtling back and away. He staggered to his feet, threw his sword down, and charged.
The Klingon and the human collided in the center ring, each fighting for his life.
Bloody noses, bruised and broken cheekbones, and smashed ribs were sustained by both.
Finally, though, Julian sent one last hard punch that forced She’tek out of the ring and
into an unconscious heap on the floor.
He staggered over to Gowron. “Sir, with your permission, I will take my ship and
reclaim DS9 from the Klingon Empire. By your own words, you have promised this.”
Gowron could not deny it. He turned his head toward an advisor and barked
something in his own language. “The next time, Doctor, you will not live through the
experience,” he hissed at Julian.
“Until then,” he replied. He picked up the sword and he and Jadzia walked
slowly back to the runabout. She did now know it, but it was only stubborn pride that
was keeping him on his feet.
“Julian,” she said, “That was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a man do
in my life.” She paused, and then hurried on, “But also the bravest.”
He nodded, his eyes closing. They were seated quickly on the runabout and
Jadzia pulled them away from the ship and toward home. “Julian, how did you know
that he would take your offer-Julian? Julian? Computer, open a channel to the Station.”
She paused, looking at the officer slumped over in his seat.
“Yes, Dax, what is it?” Sisko inquired when he answered.
“Benjamin, Julian’s injured. Have a medical team meet us at docking bay 5 when
we arrive.” He nodded and cut communication.
“Come on, Julian, just hang on,” she muttered as she quickly turned the runabout
toward the docking ring. “Just hold on.”

“How is he?” Jadzia asked quietly to one of the nurses as she came out of the
operating room.
“Alive. When he took that hit to the ribs, three were broken, one of which
punctured his left lung. It collapsed completely and filled with fluid during surgery.
He’s on a respirator right now. He also has a severe concussion. Where the bat’leth hit
him, it sliced open part of his intestine, releasing the bacteria inside. He has a severe
infection from it in almost every area of his body.” She looked at Jadzia. “Even the
Federation doesn’t have the kind of medicine that would save his life.”
“Who does?” Jadzia asked, hoping, praying that they could find the people and
negotiate a trade.
“No one does. Right now, it’s up to him. But if he doesn’t wake up in a few days
from the coma, he never will. I’m sorry.” The nurse turned and walked away, leaving
room for Nurse Jabara to come over.
“Jadzia, I’m sorry. If it’s any comfort at all, he won’t suffer.” She knew it
wouldn’t help her feel any better, but it might console her a little.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and without another word, turned on her heel and
fled from the room.

How did I ever end up like this? Jadzia wondered as she walked along the
Promenade. Suddenly, she found herself at Quark’s Bar. She sighed. This was his
favorite hangout. I hope the Chief’s not taking it too badly.
She walked in and saw him, idly throwing a round of darts by himself. When she
got closer, she saw the tears in his eyes.
“Hi, Chief,” she said quietly.
“Hi, Dax,” he replied. “Say, do you know how Julian’s doing?” The question was
asked eagerly, as if hoping against all hope that he would be okay.
“Not well. The nurse said if he doesn’t wake up soon, he won’t wake up at all.”
Suddenly, she burst into tears and O’Brien hugged her close.
“There, there. It’ll all turn out fine. Julian Bashir is not a quitter. He won’t give
up on himself.”
I just wish I could believe you, she thought.

Julian Bashir turned around. The last thing he remembered was being in the
runabout with Jadzia. “Where am I?” he wondered.
“Here,” came a voice out of the blue.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he blurted out.
“It doesn’t have to,” a voice said to his left.
He turned around and there stood a girl of about thirteen standing and looking at
him. She saw him and smiled. Then she spoke up. “You know the place when you’re
half awake, and you can just remember the dream you just had?” He nodded. “That’s
Here. You’re in a coma, Dr. Bashir.”
“So I’m here to make a choice,” he said slowly, the simple logic not escaping
him.
She nodded. “You have little time, Dr. Bashir. It is very simple. You must
choose to live, or you must choose to leave life. A decision must be made. If not, then
you will spend all eternity wandering as a lost soul with no place to go.”
He turned his head sharply toward her at this, but she only looked at him. Odd,
he thought, she almost makes it seem peaceful. He shook his head. “Why should I
choose to go back? I’m practically dead, aren’t I?”
“Normally, we don’t give people this choice. In your case, however, you have
been. You are not a quitter, Julian Bashir. Because of this, you may decide.”
“What should I call you? You obviously know all about me.”
“Call me what you will, only do not spend time thinking about it. We have work
to do.”
“What kind of work, Diana?” The name was thought of in short work; it was his
mother’s middle name.
“Why, examining your life, my good doctor. What else?”
“What good will that do?”
She paused. “It will help you to see why you have a second chance at life, Julian
Bashir.”

“I’ll look after him for awhile. Get some rest,” Jadzia told O’Brien. They had
been trading off looking after Julian for two days now. They were his only close friends;
they felt that they should be with him in his moment of need.
The Chief nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Jadzia quietly slipped into the vacated seat. She took hold of Julian’s limp right
hand. “Julian,” she began, “Julian, I know you probably can’t hear me, but let me talk.”
She drew in a quick breath, forcing herself not to cry. “There’s no easy way to say this,
so I’ll come right out with it.” She put her mouth close to his ear. “I love you.”

Julian looked at Diana. “What are you, exactly?”
“Why do you ask? As I said, we have more important things to do than this,” she
replied.
“Yes, I understand that. I also know what you aren’t. You’re not alive, you’re
not dead, you’re not an entity or anomaly, so what, then, are you?”
She sighed. “Your human mind, advanced as it is, will not be able to comprehend
what I am so I will tell you what I represent.” She paused, then continued. “I represent
Time itself.” She turned and looked at him, waiting for his reaction.
One eyebrow lifted slightly, as he took in her words. “I had always heard that
Time was an old man, constantly circling, taking his victims.”
“What you heard is so far from the truth, I think I should laugh. Time is forever
and so therefore ageless. Time is young, yet untouched by anything in the universe and
beyond. I am the perfect representation for what you call Time. Your wormhole beings
are like me. Neither is linear. We cannot exist as mortals do. We are older and more
than the Q, though they come closest to our level.”
He nodded, satisfied with the answer, though not fully understanding it. “All
right, I get it. Now we can finish whatever it is we need to do.”
She finally smiled at him. “That’s the spirit. Come on, let’s go.” She took his
hand and led him into the deepening mist that surrounded them.

Jadzia Dax sighed, and silently prayed about how to approach this assignment.
She was in charge of writing Julian’s parents to tell them what had happened. Julian had
especially requested that if such circumstances ever occurred, that his parents would hear
about it through letter, not through a subspace channel. He said he didn’t want them
around to cry when it was his time to go.
Ambassador Bashir,
Your son has been gravely injured following an attack by the Klingons. He
requested that you be contacted by letter in this case. He protected this part of space and
so fell doing his duty. He kept the station and the Bajoran system from Klingon forces.
He is receiving a special commondation as well as his promotion to Lieutenant
Commander. In the event of his death before this reaches you, you will be notified by
Captain Sisko.
Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax

“Why do I have to be the one to do this?” she questioned herself. There was no
answer. Suddenly, her door chime sounded. “Enter,” she said.
The doors whooshed open to reveal Chief O’Brien. “Hello, Dax.” He paused,
looking uncomfortable. “There’s something we have to do.”

“He named us the executors of his will,” O’Brien explained.
Jadzia nodded. She and O’Brien had been the witness to the will. It had been a
long time since she had signed it; almost five years. It had probably been updated since.
O’Brien escorted her to Julian’s quarters and showed her in. They walked over to
a small wall panel beside a chair in his bedroom. Jadzia quickly opened it, revealing the
PADD that contained the information.
“We’d better read it first,” he said quietly.
She nodded and began reading the one thing she hoped she’d never have to.

I, Julian Bashir, being of sound mind and body, do hereby write my last will and
testament. For my family, there being only my father and mother, I give to them all
childhood belongings save the small bear, Kuchalachara.
To Chief Miles O’Brien, I give the English broadsword of my family.
To Major Kira Nerys, I give the small, handcrafted Bajoran earring made from
melanite.
Captain Sisko shall receive the small dagger in the wall panel given to me by
Curzon Dax.

Jadzia stopped reading. “I have no idea,” she said to Miles, and they continued
reading.

Finally, to Jadiza Dax, I give the teddy bear, Persian rug, and all my love and
thanks for what she has given me in my life.

Julian Bashir
Miles O’Brien, witness
Jadzia Dax, witness

When she finished reading, Jadzia realized she was crying. “I don’t know what
he meant, Chief,” she sobbed onto his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. Didn’t I say that Julian isn’t a quitter?”
She nodded. I just wish I could believe you now, Miles.

“Do you recognize this place?” Diana asked him.
“Yes,” Julian breathed and stared around him. A birthday party, no doubt for
him.
“Can they see us?”
“No, as I said, this is why you have been given your chance. This is but a
memory, a distant element from your past.”
He turned back and saw himself as a six year old boy, surrounded by friends. He
realized that it was before the enhancement.
“I’d forgotten this,” he said.
“I know. Julian, you need to remember your life before and after that time.
Look, there you are in the races. You tried so hard and still lost.”
He nodded as the scene changed to one from his school, a field day event. He had
pushed himself to the limit then, and had come in a distant third.
“I remember being dejected, but not really hurt,” he muttered. “Why?”
“Because you were too young to know why you didn’t win.”
The scenes changed again, this time to a hospital. Julian looked on at the
proceedings with pain in his eyes, reliving the experience.
“Mommy, mommy, what’s wrong, where am I going?” his young counterpart
cried, lying on a stretcher.
“Shh, Julian, it will be all right, just lie still until you’re better,” came his
mother’s voice.
“It wasn’t fair,” the older Julian said. “Why did they do that to me?”
“I don’t know,” Diana answered truthfully. As I said, I am only a representation
of Time. You thought me up. I don’t know what you don’t know. I am your mind
reliving your life for you.”
They went forward to more of the genetic treatments. Finally, Julian couldn’t
stand it any longer. “Please,” he whispered, and suddenly, they were standing on a lawn
area.
“I graduated from this high school before I went to the academy,” he
remembered, happier memories gradually coming around.
Diana cocked her head. “These were the best times of your life, Julian. You
often forget that, don’t you?”
He nodded, watching as he said his valedictorian speech in front of his classmates
and parents. “This was one of the greatest times of my life.”
“Yet you struggled so much for this, Julian. Why?” She wasn’t stupid; he would
have to remember this on his own.
“I was too smart for the others. I put up with ridicule all those years.”
“And look where it got you. You’re a starfleet lieutenant, a doctor, a listener, and
a friend.” She paused. “You also have someone who loves you just as much as you love
her.”

Miles O’Brien walked to the infirmary with Jadzia. Julian still hadn’t recovered
from the coma, and they were beginning to give up all hope for him.
“If he doesn’t come around in the next day, we’ll have to take him off life
support,” Nurse Jabara said to them. “It’s going to take a miracle for him to come out of
it.”
“But Julian himself has worked miracles, Jabara,” Miles said. “There’s still a
chance, right?”
“Yes, a slim one. He’s got about a 20% chance of coming out of it.
Unfortunately, that number decreases every hour he’s in the coma.”
Jadzia didn’t listen. She walked over to Julian and sat beside him. “Can I have
some time please?” She didn’t have to turn around to know that Miles and Jabara had
left.
“Julian,” she whispered, “I need to finish this. I know you probably can’t hear
me, but I have to chance this. Ever since I first saw you, I knew you were special. Not as
Curzon, because I don’t remember you then. But I know that I do love you. I love your
looks, your personality, your charm, your grace, and I even love the way you kept chasing
after me when I first came on board. So, Julian, I have to ask one favor of you.” She
mentally checked herself and continued. “Julian, this is not an order. As a friend, all I
ask of you is to do this.” She realized she was crying and hurried up. “Please wake up.”

Julian found himself staring at himself graduating from Starfleet Academy. He
saw the respect of his classmates and his parents as they all looked at him receive his
diploma.
“Why did you miss that question on your exam, Julian?” Diana asked.
“You’re my mind, you tell me.”
“You never answered that question in life. Why not now, while you still have that
chance.”
He looked at her and realized that she was right. He thought for a minute. Of all
the times he was glad he’d done something, he was glad he had missed that question.
“The pressure,” he said and Diana nodded. “Everyone expected me to graduate first. My
family was planning my graduation celebration, the professors were lining up to give me
recommendations for stations, hospitals, etc., and Palis’ father was all ready to make me
his son in law. I couldn’t stand it. I messed up on purpose.” There, it was out. For some
reason, he didn’t care, either.
“But you didn’t quit from the pressure, did you? Why not?”
“Because I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to help people. I just didn’t want to
graduate first in my class.”
Diana nodded, and the scene disappeared, revealing next the station. “This is the
present, Julian. This is what your friends think of your impending death.”
Julian saw an image of Kira sitting Quark’s, talking to the little bartender. “I
can’t believe he’s going to die. I hated him at first, but he’s got that look that makes you
go all to pieces.” She wasn’t crying, but Julian thought this was the closest he’d ever
seen her come.
Quark was also talking. “I know. He was a good customer. Always had
something to drink and always used my holosuites. I’m going to miss the money.”
Despite the uncaring demeanor, Julian knew Quark cared. He smiled and
suddenly, he saw Captain Sisko and Odo talking together.
“That doctor has done so much,” Sisko was saying. “Every time I thought a
person was going to die here, he always managed to save their life. I’ve never seen
anything like it. He just doesn’t give up.”
“He’s too stubborn to give up, Captain,” Odo said. “That’s a good thing for a
person to have, though. I admired him for that trait.”
Julian was surprised. He’d never heard Odo give a compliment about anything
before. He didn’t have time to dwell on it. His image was replaced quickly by Jadzia
and Miles.
Jadzia and Miles were sitting beside his body in the infirmary. Jadzia was asleep
and Miles was reading to himself. “How long have they been here?” he asked.
“Long enough,” Diana replied. “At least one of them has been by your side since
you were injured.” He looked on for a few more seconds and realized why he had a
second chance.
“It’s because I don’t give up, isn’t it?” Diana just raised an eyebrow. “This was
set up so I wouldn’t give up on myself because no one else had given up on me.”
For the first time, Diana grinned and hugged him. “I knew you would
understand.” Then she backed off. “It’s time.”
He nodded. “What will happen to me when I wake up?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know. Time may be neverending, but no one ever writes it
out. You choose your own destiny, Doctor Bashir.” She started to walk off. “I hope the
next time I see you that you will be old and it will be your time.” Then she was gone and
Julian found himself spiraling into blackness.

“Jadzia, it’s time to let go,” Jabara said. It had been two days with no change.
They were going to take him off life support.
She nodded. “I know, but that still doesn’t make it any easier. Can I have a
minute, just to say goodbye?”
Jabara nodded. She left and quietly closed to infirmary doors.
Jadzia put her head in her hands and cried like she had never done so before.
After all the times they had shared, after all the times Julian had helped her, saved her
life, she couldn’t believe it was going to end like this. The infection had spread to the
most crucial areas of his body. There wasn’t much chance of recovery now.
She took his hand and held it. At least, she promised herself, he’s not going to die
alone. Suddenly, she felt a slight pressure on her fingers. Lifting her head, she saw his
eyes open slightly and focus on her. Then he smiled and dropped back into a sleep.
“Nurse!” Jadzia yelled. Jabara came running.
“What is it?”
“He woke up!” she cried. They raced over to his side. Jabara picked up a
tricorder.
“Vitals stabilizing, delta waves minimizing, beta and theta waves up, alpha waves
dominant.” She looked up. “He’s asleep. He’s going to be okay!”
Jadzia slumped into the chair. “When will he wake up?”
“I don’t know. Go get some rest. I’ll call you when he does.”
“No,” she replied. “I’ll stay here.” Privately, she thought, We’re going to face
this thing together, Julian Bashir. I knew you weren’t a quitter.

Epilogue

“All right, Julian, it’s your moment,” Miles said to his friend. Julian had woken
up from the coma and promptly proposed to Jadzia. She had said yes immediately. It
was six months later, Julian was a lieutenant commander, and he had finally told Jadzia
about the genetic enhancement. Then he had told her about the kiss.

“I did it because of all you’d done for me. And because I realized that I loved
you,” he said after he had woken up.
“What did I ever do for you?” she had asked.
“At the Klingon Peace treaty when I was eight, my father got very drunk and tried
to beat me. Curzon intervened and caused my father to lose his ambassadorship to the
Federation for a year. I just wanted to thank you and tell you I love you.”
She nodded, finally remembering. “And I love you, too, Julian.”

So here they were, Jadzia walking down the marriage aisle with Miles giving her
away. Julian stood there and looked at her, finally sure that for the first time in his life,
he belonged.

The End

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The Brigade of the Doomed

STAR TREK
THE NEXT GENERATION

THE BRIGADE OF THE DOOMED

CHAPTER ONE

Captain Jean-Luc Picard walked onto the bridge in an unusually happy mood. Starfleet Command
had finally given the Enterprise permission to explore the Seraris Regions. That area of space was one of
the most mysterious sections of the Alpha Quadrant, and the Enterprise was going to explore it first. If
anyone in civilized space hadn’t heard of the Enterprise before this mission, after it, they most certainly
would.
“You’re sure in a happy mood,” Counselor Deanna Troi noted as Picard took his spot at the
command chair. Commander Riker went to sit at the first officer’s seat.
“I most certainly am,” Picard told Troi. “Starfleet Command has given us permission to explore
the Seraris Regions.”
Troi looked shocked. Ensign Wesley Crusher’s mouth hung open. Commander Riker asked,
“How did you manage to pull that off?”
“Admiral Jordan is tired of all the mystery surrounding the Seraris Regions, and she felt that the
Enterprise was the only ship for the job. Also, if there’s anything valuable in the Seraris Regions, we want
to have the first grab at it.”
Riker nodded. “Understandable. Admiral Jordan also talked about sending the Yeltsin to explore
the Seraris Regions some years ago, but she felt that Starfleet should wait and send the newly commissioned
Enterprise to explore them when she felt the ship is ready.”
“She feels the ship is ready right now, Number One,” Picard said. “Mr. Crusher, lay in a course for
Starbase 123 at maximum warp. Engage.”
“Yes, sir.” Ensign Crusher turned to input the coordinates into the conn station, and he pressed the
engage button. The Enterprise sped towards the last outpost before the unknown.

Lieutenant Commander Data pressed the buzzer to Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge’s
quarters. “Come in,” Geordi said.
Data entered the range of the sensor above the door to Geordi’s quarters. The door whooshed
open. Geordi was listening to the popular band “The Warps”, who mutated jazz in an odd form that humans
seemed to like. Data entered the quarters. “I hope I am not disturbing you.”
“Not at all Data.”
Data stepped further into Geordi’s quarters. The door whooshed shut. “I wish to know about all
the wonder surrounding the Seraris Regions.”
Geordi got out of his chair and turned the music off. “How do you mean, Data?”
“There has been a great deal of controversy and myth surrounding the Seraris Regions. Little has
been backed up by fact. Why does this particular region of space seem more important than any other
unexplored region?”
Geordi sat back down in the chair and shook his head. “I don’t know, Data. Perhaps it’s because
it’s so close to us. That’s the most likely explanation I can think of.”
Data nodded. “Ah. So you believe that when we get closer to the Gamma and Delta Quadrants,
those regions of space will be like today’s Seraris Regions?”
“I guess. I really don’t know.”
“You have been most helpful, Geordi. Thank you.” Data exited Geordi’s quarters.

Lieutenant Worf struggled with his opponent. The creature was growing fatigued and was
breathing heavily. That’s when the Klingon abruptly stepped backwards away from the creature. The
strategy surprised this dumb animal. Worf took out his dahktog and stabbed his opponent in the ribs. The
thing fell to the ground, blood flowing from the wound. Then, the creature disappeared, as did the harsh
enviroment surrounding them.
“Level One of Program Kliog Nine is complete,” the computer said.
“Computer: shut down program and save the progress report under the file name Worf One.”
“Working,” the computer said. “Command carried out.”
“Exit.”
The holodeck exit appeared, and Worf exited the holodeck. His shift at tactical would begin in a
few minutes, and he never liked to be late, so he decided to jog to the turbolift on the other side of deck
eleven. He slowed down and strode into the turbolift, and said, “Bridge.” He made it to the bridge just in
time for his shift to begin.

“How nice of you to join us,” Picard said as Worf hurried to his station at tactical. It was April
Fool’s Day, and Picard liked the holiday very much, mostly because it tended to keep his crew in good
spirits.
“Did I miss something, sir?” Worf asked.
Riker was smiling. Data had no expression on his face, as usual. “Oh, nothing at all, Lieutenant.
Just our explorations of the Seraris Regions, the destruction of the Romulan Empire, the Borg changing
their prosthetic colors from black to periwinkle…”
Worf had a bewildered expression on his face. “In just one night, sir?”
Ensign Crusher burst out laughing. Riker was chuckling to himself. Worf looked at all of them
dubiously. “I see… It is the day of that accursed human holiday April Fool’s Day…” He looked down in
shame. “I constantly fall for them jokes…”
Picard grinned. “It’s good for you, Lieutenant.” He turned towards Ensign Crusher. “What’s our
ETA to Starbase 123?”
Crusher checked his console. “One minute, sir.”
“We made excellent time,” Picard said. “Hail Commander Zuskoe.”
The young form of Commander Zuskoe appeared on the main viewer. His black hair parted to the
left side was as shiny as ever. His face was equally bright. “It’s good to see you again, Jean-Luc.”
“Likewise, Ben,” Picard said. “We are less than a minute away.”
“We are preparing for your docking now.” Zuskoe put a bigger smile on his face. “It’s exciting.
We’re taking a major part in a major event in history.”
Picard smiled. “Ensign Crusher, are we in the Velusion system?”
“We are now, sir.”
“Then drop us out of warp, and prepare to dock.”

Geordi checked the matter-antimatter reactor status display in his office. It indicated that the
reactor was working perfectly. Finally. After two hours, Data and he had finally located the malfunction,
and fixed it. Who would ever have thought that a simple frequency imbalance would be so hard to find?
“I am intrigued at how that simple frequency imbalance eluded us,” Data said.
“Well, at least it’s over now,” Geordi said. “Why don’t you go over the sensor logs? These
frequency imbalances are usually caused by external influences. Meanwhile, I’ll go over the engineering logs
and see if any cause can be found there.”
“A reasonable course of action.” Data went over to the status table, and requested the sensor logs.
They appeared on the left raised screen, and he walked over to that screen. He set the scroll rate to
maximum, and scanned the sensor logs for anything unusual. “Sensor logs indicate that the Enterprise
passed through a field of very rare dronium particles. They are the most likely culprit.”
Geordi got a frightened expression on his face. “Will them dronium particles be a threat to anyone
else?”
“Unlikely. The dronium particles are now to few in number to pose any threat.”
Geordi gave sigh of relief. “Good. I’ll go check the engineering logs, just in case.”
“A wise precaution.”
Geordi hunched over the right raised screen and went to work.

Captain Picard went over the checklist. Almost every objective for the Enterprise at the starbase
was complete. Only getting a full supply of photon torpedoes and getting a slight upgrade of the phaser
banks remained. The crews of the Enterprise and Starbase 123 were making excellent progress.
The buzzer to the ready room buzzed. “Come.”
The door whooshed open. Commander Riker strode in. The door whooshes shut behind him.
“Captain, our photon torpedo supply is at maximum.”
Picard nodded. “Why didn’t you just tell me that over the comm?”
“Well, I received another starship command offer. The Lexington.”
“Take it. Not many people get to command Revolutionary-class starships, Will. And when they
do, their only the best. You should consider it an honor just to be offered to command one.”
“I know that, sir. But it’s not the Enterprise.”
“It’s pretty darn close. Revolutionary-class starships are between Excelsior and Ambassador.”
“I guess I just like it here, sir.”
Picard nodded. “I understand. I will support you no matter what your decision is.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”

CHAPTER TWO

Captain’s log, stardate 44111.1. The Enterprise has completed its objectives at Starbase 123, and
we are now ready to begin our explorations of the Seraris Regions.

Picard sat down in the command chair. “Ensign Crusher, take us out of dock.”
“Aye, sir.” Crusher concentrated on his task. One minute later, the Enterprise was within the
required one thousand kilometers of the starbase, where they were allowed to go to warp.
“Lay in a course for System A-95, warp eight,” Picard ordered.
Crusher pressed the engage button, and the Enterprise sped towards the unknown…

Captain’s log, supplemental. The Enterprise is now warping towards the Seraris Regions.
Estimated time of arrival: one hour at warp eight.

Doctor Beverly Crusher ran the tissue regenerator over Commander Riker’s nasty wound. The cut
was unusually deep, but no problem for the regenerator. “Tell me how this happened to you again.”
“Well, Worf and I were using wooden, dulled bat’leths against each other – much to his displeasure
– when Worf’s bat’leth came crashing into my shoulder. That is how I wound up with this wound.”
Beverly gave a sigh of disbelief. “Every time you play Klingon with Worf, this happens to you. If
you don’t get better, you’re going to have to stop.”
Riker laughed.
“I’m serious, Will! I have the authority to order you to stop.”
Riker stopped laughing.
Beverly looked at the spot of the wound. It was gone. To be sure, she did a tricorder scan on the
spot. The tricorder said the wound was gone. “Now, next time you play with a wooden bat’leth, just
imagine yourself if it was real, okay?”
Riker stood up. “Okay.” He exited the sickbay.

Thirty minutes later, Commander Riker strode onto the bridge. The entire senior staff was there.
Their arrival to the Seraris Regions must have been at hand. Riker took his customary seat to the captain’s
left.
“I see you decided to join us,” Picard said. “Mr. Crusher, ETA to the Seraris Regions?”
Crusher checked the conn. “One minute, sir.”
Riker’s adrenaline raced. The Enterprise was soon going to make history yet again. It felt
exciting. Before he knew it, they were there.
“We have entered the Seraris Regions!” Ensign Crusher announced. “ETA to System A-95 is
fifteen minutes.”
“We did it!” Beverly exclaimed.
“We most certainly did,” Picard commented. “Mr. Data, begin sensor scans of System A-25.”
“Aye, sir.”

Captain’s log, supplemental. We have reached the Seraris Regions, and are on a course for
System A-25. Estimated time of arrival: ten minutes. Initial sensor scans of the system indicate that there
are thirteen planets in the star’s orbit. There is a high probability that at least three of them are M-class
planets. We will make determinations once we reach the system.

“We have reached System A-25,” Ensign Crusher said.
“Slow to impulse,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir.” Crusher adjusted the speed to full impulse. The Enterprise dropped out of warp.
“Lay in a course for Planet Five.”
“Aye, sir.”
Data whirled around to face the captain. “Sir, belay that order.”
Picard nodded. “Belay that order, Ensign.” Picard got a mystified expression on his face. “What
is the matter?”
“Planets Five and Three are surrounded by dronium particles; we cannot go into their orbits.”
Picard frowned. “Dronium particles? Aren’t they supposed to be rare?”
“Affirmative, sir. The concentrations here are to dense to have been caused by a natural source.”
Data paused. “Sensor scans have confirmed that there are ruins of a highly advanced civilization on Planet
Four; there is also evidence that a computer system is still operational. I recommend that we send over an
away team to investigate.”
“Agreed. Ensign, lay in a course for Planet Four, full impulse.”
“Aye, sir.”

Commander Riker, Data, Geordi, Worf, and Ensign Craig beamed into what Data hypothesized
was a central building in the city where the operational computer system was detected. The room they were
in was quite large, and the decor was a bluish-gray. The room was fairly dark, with the only light being from
flickering computer consoles that were on the walls.
Data took out his tricorder, flipped it open, and began scanning. “The operational computer system
is approximately nine hundred meters away.” He walked towards one of the flickering computer consoles.
“I am attempting to download any information databases on the aliens’ language that may still exist in the
main computer.” After two minutes, he announced, “Attempt unsuccessful.”
“We should try at the main computer itself,” Geordi said.
“Agreed.”
“Can you find a way out of here?” Riker asked.
Geordi began to whirl his head around. “I see some sort of energy field on that wall,” he said,
pointing towards the right.
Data began scanning the energy field. “The energy is not of a type we have encountered before. I
am now hypothesizing on how to neutralize it.”
Riker asked, “Are there any exits that you have confirmed, Data?”
Data consulted his tricorder. “There is no other way, Commander.”
“Very well,” Riker said. “Any ideas on how we can try to disrupt the field?”
“Perhaps we should use a phaser, sir,” Worf said.
“A phaser blast might alert any still functioning security systems,” Data said.
“I agree, sir,” Craig said.
“Do you have any other ideas?” Riker asked.
“I think we can generate a duonetic pulse that would knock it out of commission,” Geordi said.
“How do we generate a duonetic pulse?” Riker asked, puzzled.
Data shook his head in the manner that indicated he was processing information. “Using a phaser’s
frequency chip,” he said, withdrawing his phaser and removing the indicated chip, “I can attach it to the
tricorder,” he did so, “and then set the tricorder to emit a narrow-band subspace emission.”
“Do it,” Riker ordered.
Data aimed his tricorder at the energy field on the wall, touched a couple of buttons, then a low
whistle began. A white beam emitted from the frequency chip attached to the tricorder, and Data
announced, “The attempt has been unsuccessful.”
Sirens began to go off. Data quickly replaced the frequency chip back into the phaser. “I believe
we have activated a security system.”
Geordi got a frightened expression on his face. “Look!” he cried, pointing to the far end of the
room. Ten shadowy figures were moving towards them.
Data did a quick scan of the approaching figures. “Scans indicate that the approaching force is
composed of robots, sir.”
A red energy beam emitted from one of the figures. The team scattered. The beam missed Riker’s
head narrowly. Riker raised his phaser, set it to setting eight, and fired at the beam’s origin. The robot
continued on, unaffected.
“Setting sixteen, sir,” Geordi said. He raised his own phaser, and shot one of the robots. The
robot staggered, but that was all. That robot returned Geordi’s fire. Geordi dodged the blast, and fired
again. The robot fell down. All heat signatures disappeared from the robot. It was deactivated. “One
down, nine more to go.”
Worf set his phaser to wide beam to encompass all the robots, and fired. The robots shook a little
bit, then advanced towards Worf. He fired again. The robots staggered. He fired yet again. Half of the
robots fell to the floor, while the other half stood still, shaking wildly. Energy beams emitted from all of
them, striking wild locations. Unfortunately, one of the wild beams hit Ensign Craig, who vaporized
instantly.
Riker fired four phaser blasts, one for each robot. They all fell to the floor. The team relaxed, and
lowered their phasers.
“It would be prudent to contact the Enterprise,” Data said.
“Good idea,” Riker replied. He slapped his commbadge. “Riker to Enterprise.”
No response.
“Riker to Enterprise.”
Again, no response.
Data looked at his tricorder. “Another energy field has materialized around the building.
Communications nor transporter beams can penetrate it.”
Riker gave a sigh of disbelief. “They must have been real paranoid.”
“They might have had good reason, Commander,” Data said. “After all, the existence of all the
dronium particles-”
“I know, Data.”

Captain Picard was instantly alert. Contact with the away team had been lost, and a mysterious
energy field had materialized around the beam in point.
“Captain, sensors are detecting the launch of two dozen spacecraft,” Lieutenant Sheer, who was at
tactical, announced.
“Go to yellow alert,” Picard ordered. “Prepare to take evasive action.”
Twenty-four small spacecraft erupted from Planet Four’s atmosphere. They resembled small
pyramids. Each craft had the same color: black. The only reason Picard couls see them on the main viewer
was because of computer enhancements.
“They are arming what appears to be weapons systems,” Sheer reported.
“Go to red alert. Ensign Crusher, evasive maneuvers.”
“Aye, sir,” both Sheer and Crusher acknowledged. The red alert Klaxons wailed, while the
Enterprise went through a series of complex evasive maneuvers. On the main viewer, orange energy beams
emitted from the spacecraft and chased after the ship’s course.
“Fire full power phaser beams at the enemy craft,” Picard ordered.
This time, Sheer didn’t acknowledge Picard. Instead, he just fired the phasers. The blasts directly
his their targets. All nine enemy spacecraft that were targets were destroyed. Then, Sheer got a better idea.
“Why don’t we fire photon torpedoes, sir, and have each one strike a different target?”
Picard nodded. “Make it so.”
Sheer fired the photon torpedoes. After they were launched, Sheer gave each of the ten torpedoes
a different target. The torpedoes obediently went after their targets. The spacecraft took evasive action, but
the torpedoes’ onboard computer was more advanced than the enemy spacecraft’s. The torpedoes struck
their targets in rapid succession. Each of the targets were destroyed.
“Five enemy craft left, Captain,” Sheer reported.
“Then fire an additional five torpedoes,” Picard said.
“Aye, sir.”
As Sheer fired the torpedoes, three energy beams struck the Enterprise. The shields were knocked
down to eighty percent. The damage to the Enterprise itself was minimal, however. Sheer gave each of the
torpedoes a target, and then awaited further orders.
Picard watched each of the torpedoes strike their targets. The threat from the enemy spacecraft
was eliminated. “Damage report.”
“Shields are at eighty precent, damage is minimal, no casualties,” Sheer reported. “Damage control
teams are already working on repairs.”
“Work on figuring out how to disrupt the energy field surrounding the beam-in site.”
“We can try a duonetic pulse.”
Troi made a comment. “That might hinder what the away team is doing.”
“The dounetic pulse will dissapate along with the energy field,” Sheer said.
Picard considered the situation. “Do it.”
“Yes, sir.” Sheer manipulated the tactical station for a minute, then said, “Ready to emit the
pulse.”
“Emit.”
A white energy beam emitted from the Enterprise’s main phaser bank. Picard impatiently waited
for the results. He was not happy with them.
“No effect, sir,” Sheer said.
Picard got out of the command chair. He turned to Sheer. “Are there any other alternatives?”
“None that I know of, sir.”

Data went over the scans of the energy field again. He was beginning to think that using a phaser
would be necessary. “I believe that using a phaser may be necessary, Commander.”
“Agreed,” Geordi said.
Riker nodded. “All right.” He unholstered his phaser, set it to sixteen, and aimed at the energy
field. “Here goes nothing.” He fired.
At first, nothing happened. Then, they heard the sizzle reminiscient of one of their own force fields
going out of existence.
“Our attempt has been successful,” Data noted. “The tricorder now detects an exit from this area
spanning the entire portion of the presumed wall. The next section is a series of power generators.”
Riker nodded again. “Worf, you go first. I’ll go second. Data, you take the rear.”
“Aye, sir,” the other team members said in rapid succession. They took up their positions. Geordi
took the initiative and went behind Riker.
“Let’s go,” Riker ordered. “Though first, I’ll try to contact the Enterprise again.” He slapped his
commbadge. “Riker to Enterprise.” Still no response.
“The energy field around this complex is still online,” Data reported.
“We’ll try to shut it down at the power generators’ section,” Riker said. “Let’s go.”
The team proceeded into the next section.

“Still any luck, Mr. Sheer?” Picard asked.
“No, sir,” Sheer reported. “I still don’t think it would be wise to fire a phaser beam at the energy
field, because the beam might hit the building if the field dissapates in the wrong way.”
Picard considered all available alternatives. “It’s our only choice. How much power can be safely
transfered to phasers for the beam?”
Sheer shook his head. “I would estimate… forty-three percent at most.”
“Set the power to that setting, and fire.”
Sheer touched a few buttons on the tactical console. “Firing.”
Troi tightened her grip on the right arm of her chair, while Picard turned his attention to the main
viewer. The phaser beam went into the planet’s atmosphere, out of site.
“The phaser beam has eradicated the energy field,” Sheer said, “and has not even touched the
building.” He smiled.
“Don’t celebrate so soon,” Picard said, standing up. “Are you picking up the away team’s
commbadge signals?”
Sheer glanced at the tactical console. “I am sir, but they’re faint.”
“Contact Commander Riker.”
Sheer touched a button. “Comm channel established.”
Picard nodded. “Number One, are you all right?”
“Yes, sir. We’re now going through a facility full of power generators. A while ago, we were
attacked by robots, and Ensign Craig was vaporized. The rest of us are uninjured, sir.”
“How long do you think it will take you to reach the operational computer system?”
“About an hour, sir. This facility is claustrophobic.”
“Picard out.”

Lieutenant Worf struggled through the uncharacteristically small passageway. After that, there was
a small intersection before them. The intersection was dark, like the rest of the godforsaken place, with the
only light coming from small consoles that were on the walls. This intersection, however, had a small,
brightly lit console standing in the center of the intersection.
Riker, Geordi, and Data followed Worf into the intersection. Geordi examined the console closely.
“Data, this is odd. Let’s check it out.”
“Agreed,” Data said. He scanned the console with his tricoder. “I cannot ascertain its function, as
we do not yet understand the language. However, if I were to hypothosize on its function, I would say it is
a control panel for a transporter.”
Riker got a surprised expression on his face. “A transporter? How can you be so certain?”
“We are now standing on a transporter pad.”
Riker looked down at the floor, and up at the ceiling. “I don’t see anything.”
“The flooring of this intersection looks just like the flooring in all the other sections. However, the
actual material is reminiscent of our own transporter pads.”
“He’s right,” Geordi said, looking down at the floor. He took out his tricorder, and scanned the
transporter pad. “I wouldn’t recommend using it unless we absolutely have to, though.”
“I concur,” Data said.
Riker took out his own tricoder and scanned the vicinity. “I don’t think we have much of a choice.
The other three corridors lead to dead ends, and we can’t go back the way we came.”
“How would we use the transporter if we do not understand the language?” Worf spoke up.
“I can use my tricorder to bypass the control panel and just initiate actions,” Data said.
“How can you determine where we will beam to?” Worf asked.
“All indications are that this transporter is permanantly set to one location: the main computer
room.”
“We have no choice,” Riker said. “Data, beam us out.”
“Aye, sir.” Data began manipulating the transporter components with his tricorder. He met limited
success at first, but then the components started to cooperate. “Initiating transport.”
Before Data could finish his sentence, robots appeared at the far ends of each of the surrounding
corridors. Riker fired his phaser, still set on maximum, twice into each corridor. The robotic threat ended,
for the moment.
“Get us out of here before more show up,” Riker said.
“Energizing,” Data reported.
The team dematerialized slowly. Before the process was complete, Worf saw an energy beam
racing towards his location. The beam crossed through Worf’s position just before he dematerialized
completely.

The team materialized in the main computer room. Immediately after that, Worf slumped to the
ground. Data scanned Worf with his tricoder.
“How is he?” Riker asked.
“Not well, sir,” Data said. “He requires medical attention.”
One bad thing after another, Riker thought. Out loud, he said, “Can we call for a beam up?”
“I’m afraid that we are too far underground,” Data said. “We would need pattern enhancers.”
“Underground?” Riker asked. “You didn’t say anything about the computer center being
underground.”
“That is because our readings of the location were slightly retarded by the emissions from the
power generators. I didn’t realize that the main computer room was underground until now.”
Riker nodded. “Well, let’s find out what we need to know, and get out.”
“I’m with you, Commander,” Geordi said.
Data redirected his tricorder scans towards the surrounding room. “First, I will need to activate the
light sources.”
“Please,” Riker said.
Data fiddled with the tricorder for a moment, then the room lit up. The lights were a fluorescent
green. With the lights on, they could see that the room was a fairly large one. In the center of the room was
a black, large pole rising from the floor to the ceiling. It bore no markings or lights whatsoever. This was
all old news to Geordi, who said, “It sure is the weirdest looking computer I’ve ever seen.”
“Can you download a language archive, Data?” Riker asked.
“Attempting to do so now, sir,” Data said. He paused for a moment, his tricorder still in the air.
Then, the lights started to flicker.
“What’s going on?” Riker asked.
“I do not know,” Data said. Then, everything returned to normal. “I have successfully
downloaded a language archive. Feeding the archive into our Universal Translators.” Data paused for a
moment, again. “Done.”
“Ask why there are dronium particles surrounding Planets Two and Three,” Riker ordered.
“Acknowledged.” Data manipulated his tricorder for a moment, then stopped. “The memory bank
has very little information. Besides the language database, it has only ten relatively short files. Attempt to
download the files?”
“Go ahead.”
Data touched a button on his tricorder, and stood motionless for a few seconds. It seemed like an
eternity to Riker. However, after those few seconds, Data reported, “Files downloaded.”
Riker nodded his acknowledgement. He slapped his commbadge. “Riker to Enterprise.”
“Picard here.”
“We have downloaded all the information in the memory banks into Data’s tricorder. The main
computer chamber is underground, so we will have to return to the power generation facility. Also, Worf
needs medical attention.”
“I will inform Doctor Crusher. Meanwhile, didn’t you say it would be an hour?”
“It is a long story, sir. I’ll give you a report when we get back.”
“Very well, Commander. Picard out.”
Riker tapped his communicator, switching it off. “Are we all on the pad?”
Geordi looked down at the ground. He scooted to the left a little bit. “Now we are, sir.”
“Then energize, Mr. Data.”

The away team materialized at the same place they beamed away from. Conditions were different,
however. This time, the corridors surrounding the intersection were full of robots. And they were coming
towards the away team.
Riker frantically slapped his commbadge. “Four to beam up, emergency transport!”
The team dematerialized.

Picard stood up quickly when he heard the turbolift doors open. He was relieved to see Riker and
Data stride out of them. “Report.”
“We have gotten what was left in the aliens’ memory databanks. In the proccess, though, we
alerted some sort of security system. The place is infested with robots by now. I wouldn’t recommend
sending another team down there unless it was heavily armed.”
“Something similar happened up here. We were attacked by small craft guided by artificial
intelligence. Not very smart, though.”
Riker and Data took their positions. Data automatically began touching buttons on his operations
console. Picard and Riker looked at Data patiently as he did so. Then, Data stopped.
“What do you have?” Riker asked.
“Nothing specific, sir,” Data reported. “However, the information from the memory banks makes
frequent mentions of `command center’ and `Vraris’.”
Wesley Crusher joined the conversation. “Vraris? Isn’t that mythed to be around System H-19?”
“You are correct, Wesley,” Data said.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Picard commented.
“It is believed to be the capitol of the ancient Garthusian Empire. The existance of that empire has
never been proven, but it has often been mythed about by cultures surrounding the Seraris Regions.”
Picard began to have a look of understanding. “Of course, the Garthusian Empire. Supposedly the
most powerful of presences in this part of the galaxy in the distant past.”
“Unfortunately, there is very little other knowledge of the Garthusian Empire, not even in myth.”
Picard considered the options for what seemed like the millionth time today. “Mr. Crusher, lay in a
course for System H-19, warp nine.”
“Course laid in, sir,” Crusher reported.
“Engage.”
The Enterprise sped towards the center of myth and legend, the center of power for one of the
most powerful empires of all time…

CHAPTER THREE

Captain’s log, stardate 44112.3. After investigating Planet Four in System A-25, the Enterprise is
now on a course for Vraris, which is believed to be in System H-19. Vraris is the mythed home of the
mythed Garthusian Empire, which was supposedly the most powerful presence in this section of the galaxy
in the distant past. It is unknown just how distant this past is, but it is speculated to be more than five
thousand years ago.

Captain Picard looked at his weary-looking chief of security. “Are you all right?”
“I am able to serve,” Worf said.
Picard had to smile at that. He looked at Doctor Crusher. She nodded her agreement. “All right,
then. Mr. Worf, report for duty.”
“Yes, Captain.” Worf walked exited sickbay. Picard soon followed.

Commander Riker jumped out of the command chair as he was Picard and Worf enter the bridge.
“One hour till Vraris, Captain.”
Picard nodded as he took his seat in the command chair. “Good.” He looked in Ensign Crusher’s
direction. “Increase to warp factor nine point two.”
“Aye, sir.”
Riker looked to see that Worf had taken tactical, then took his own position. “Why the speed
change, sir?”
“Just to get there a little faster,” Picard replied. “Ensign, what’s our ETA now?”
Crusher checked his console. “Fifty minutes, sir.”
Data turned around. “You have only removed ten minutes from our estimated time of arrival,
Captain.”
“I needed something to do,” Geordi La Forge said as he entered the bridge. He took the
Engineering station. “Now that we’re just under the red line, I have something to do.” He turned his
attention to the console.
Data shook his head in the way that indicated he was proccessing information. “I see.” He turned
back to his duties.
Picard turned back to Geordi. “Are you happy, Commander?”
“Very happy, now,” Geordi said.
Picard noticed Worf’s eyebrows shoot up. “What is it?”
“Long-range sensors detecting a vessel on an intercept course!” Worf reported.
“Is it in visual range?”
“Not yet.”
Picard got out of the command chair. “Hail it.”
Worf touched several buttons on his console. “No response, sir.”
Picard raised an eyebrow this time. “Data, report.”
Data rapidly touched multiple places on his console. “It is sphere-shaped, sir. Composed of pure
carbon neutronium. Multiple weapon arrays. Mass is nineteen thousand kilotons. I cannot get any more
specific than that at this point.”
Picard turned back to Worf. “Is it in visual range yet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“On screen.” Picard whirled around to face the main viewer. A huge, sphere-shaped vessel was
being presented. The vessel was colored a dark gray, with purple spots dotting the hull that Picard guessed
were weapon arrays. The vessel was almost half the size of a Borg cubeship. Thinking of the Borg made
Picard sick. He stumbled for a moment, but quickly regained control.
“They are arming weapons!” Worf reported.
“Red alert!” Riker ordered.
The red alert Klaxons sounded throughout the ship. Picard ordered the accursed noise turned off.
“Full power to defensive systems. Ensign Crusher, evasive maneuvers.”
Neither Geordi nor Crusher replied. They just did what they were told.
“Hail them again,” Riker said.
“Still no response.”
Data turned around to face the captain. “Sir, our weapons are useless against carbon neutronium.
I recommend that we retreat.”
“We’ll keep that option open,” Picard said. “Can you determine the status of their propulsion
systems?”
Data scanned the enemy again. “They are pursuing us at warp nine point six.”
“Then we’ll do better. Mr. La Forge, maximum warp.”
Geordi gave a sigh of disbelief. His contmpt was apparent in his voice. “Whatever you say, sir.”
For a moment, the Enterprise seemed to be winning the speed battle. However, Data reported:
“Our speed is warp nine point nine, theirs is warp nine point nine nine nine.”
“Powerdown in five minutes!” Geordi called.
“Drop to impulse,” Picard ordered. “Course seven mark eight, bearing 134 mark 3.”
The Enterprise slowed to impulse, while the enemy vessel was still in subspace. They overshot the
Enterprise by two light years.
“Prepare multiple Picard Maneuvers,” Picard ordered.
“Multiple, sir?” Crusher asked.
“You heard me.”
Crusher gulped as he set to his task.
“Alien vessel is approximately one point nine eight light yeas away,” Data reported. “They are
preparing warp engines.”
“Ready, sir,” Crusher said.
“Engage!” Picard ordered.
While the enemy vessel was still at sublight speeds, the Enterprise warped right next to the enemy
vessel, went away, and came back again, repeating continuously, all at warp eight. At this point, there were
a dozen Enterprises hopefully appearing on enemy sensors.
The pink weapon arrays lit up. They began firing pink energy blasts at the Enterprises.
“Our attempt has been successful, sir,” Worf reported. “Their tactical sensors are locking onto the
fake starships.”
“Do this until we have been foiled,” Picard ordered Crusher. “Mr. Worf, what type of energy
weapons are they using?”
“Disruptor energy, Captain.”
“Similar to any we know of?”
“No.”
Picard nodded. He turned to Data. “Make a thourough sensor scan of the enemy vessel. I want to
know everything we can know about it.”
“That would be impossible, sir-”
“Just try, Data.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Picard turned his attention back to the main viewer. The disruptor blasts were becoming more and
more on target.
“I think they know our secret, sir,” Riker noted.
“Agreed, Number One. Ensign Crusher, drop to impulse at our original position.”
“Aye, sir.” Crusher took the ship to sublight speeds at their original position: two light years away
from the enemy vessel.
“They are going to warp,” Data reported. Just after he said that, the sphere appeared on the main
viewer. The ship resumed blasting away.
“Sir,” Geordi said, “all them Picard maneuvers took their toll on our systems. To keep the
defensive systems up, I might have to cut into life support.”
“Do whatever you need to do,” Picard ordered. He sat back down in the command chair. The ship
rocked under repeated impacts. “Hail them.”
This time, they responded. They only allowed audio, though. “SURRENDER!”
Picard was taken aback at this blunt approach. “I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation
Starship Enterprise. We intend no harm.”
“YOUR INTENTIONS DO NOT MEAN ANYTHING TO US. SURRENDER OR DIE!”
“If you are upset because we might have violated your space, we will leave-”
The aliens cut the communication channel.
“Nice fellow,” Riker commented sarcastically.
Picard considered his options. He didn’t have very many. The aliens were faster than they were,
and had an unpenetrable hull. Unless… “Mr. Data, can we beam something through the weapon arrays?”
Data considered it. “Excellent idea, Captain. The weapon arrays are not made of carbon
neutronium… it is concieveable that we could beam photon torpedoes into their vessel through one of the
weapon arrays.”
“If we get that close and lower our shields, we’re toast,” Riker said.
“It is our best chance of success,” Data said.
“Make it so,” Picard ordered.
Data concentrated on his task. “I request control of helm, tactical, and transporter systems.”
“Take control of whatever you need to.”
Data turned his absolute concentration onto the task at hand. The Enterprise went on a course for
the rear end of the vessel. Picard thought that what Data was doing was ridiculous, because there were so
many weapon arrays that were closer, not to mention firing disruptor blasts at them, but he assumed Data
knew what he was doing, so Picard didn’t say anything.
The Enterprise rocked under four disruptor blasts hitting them at once. “Damage report,” Picard
requested, looking up at Worf.
“Shields are down to eighty percent, sir,” Worf reported. “Minor damage to decks nineteen
through twenty-one. Thirty casualties reported.”
Picard nodded his acknowledgement. He turned his attention back to the main viewer. The
Enterprise had reached the rear area of the enemy ship. The view from this side was different from the view
on the other. This time, a large blue strip lined the middle section like an equator. That was the only thing
different, though. This side still had the same dark gray color and the same pink weapon arrays. Data was
piloting the Enterprise to the weapon array located nearest the blue strip.
“I sure hope he knows what he’s doing,” Riker whispered to Picard.
“He does,” Picard whispered back. “He does.”
The Enterprise was rapidly approaching the weapon array. The blasts started hitting the ship
harder. The enviromental console in the back exploded. Fortunately, no one was manning that particular
console at the moment.
“Shields at sixty percent,” Worf reported.
The Enterprise was now practically hovering over the weapon array. The array spat out disruptor
energy every second, causing the crew to grab onto handholds to keep from falling onto the deck.
“Any suggestions on how to lessen the impact of the disruptor blasts?” Picard asked.
Crusher seemed to think for a moment. “We could lock a tractor beam onto the weapon array.”
“I concur,” Data said.
“Do it,” Picard said.
Worf touched several buttons on his console, then a blue beam emitted from the Enterprise’s main
tractor emitter. It locked onto the array perfectly. The blasts now seemed like little tremors compared to
the big earthquakes they were having.
“Commence transporting of torpedoes,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir.” Data’s hanced danced rapidly across his console. “Shields are down, commencing
transport.”
After Data said that, the big earthquakes started again. The crew once again took handholds.
Stations all over the ship exploded. Picard felt his arm rests get hot. He leaped from his chair just before
sparks began flying from the small button pads on his arm rests. The ship rocked again, and he fell to the
deck.
“Captain!” Riker said, jumping up.
Picard regained his footing, and grabbed a hold of Data’s chair. “I’m all right.”
Riker got a worried expression on his face, and returned to his seat.
“Transporting complete, sir,” Data said.
“Disengage tractor beam and raise shields!” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Picard climbed back into the command chair. “Detonate the torpedoes, then get us out of here!”
“Detonating torpedoes, sir,” Data said. “Laying in a course for a safe position.”
The Enterprise vaulted away from the enemy ship. As the photon torpedoes detonated, Picard saw
the weapon array explode, then the weapon arrays near it exploded. The big blue strip then was consumed
in a surge of power, then the blue strip turned into a dark gray strip, undistinguishable from the rest of the
ship.
“Report,” Picard ordered.
“The detonation of the photon torpedoes has disabled their propulsion systems, sir,” Data said.
“We are now free of pursuit.”
Picard nodded. He got up, and turned to Geordi. “Damage report.”
Geordi turned his attention away from the Engineering console. “Shields are at forty-two percent,
sir. Major damage to decks fifteen through twenty-three, and minor damage to decks five through eleven.
Damage to the warp drive has rendered our safest maximum warp to warp factor seven point three six. The
thrusters have been knocked out. We can only get half impulse out of the impulse engines.”
“Acknowledged.” Picard sat in the command chair. “Recommendations.”
“Going to Vraris seems pretty crazy right now,” Riker said. “If that ship was Garthusian-”
“Commander, the odds of the unidentified vessel being Garthusian are nearly nine million to one,”
Data said.
“It still is a possibility.”
“Some of the repairs are going to have to be done in drydock,” Geordi said. “I recommend we
high-tail it back to Starbase 123.”
“I’m with Geordi,” Crusher said.
Picard considered his options. “Staying here is not an option. We are also considerabely disabled.”
He paused. “Mr. Crusher, lay in a course for Starbase 123 at warp factor six.”
“Course laid in, sir.”
“Engage, Ensign.”
Crusher pressed the engage button, and the Enterprise sped back towards the last outpost, Starbase
123.

CHAPTER FOUR

Captain’s log, stardate 44114.9. After engaging in battle with an unknown starship while en route
to Vraris, the Enterprise is warping back to Starbase 123 because of heavy damage. We do not detect any
signs of pursuit within our sensor range.

Captain Picard got out of the command chair. He turned to face Worf. “Lieutenant, hail
Commander Zuskoe.”
Worf pressed a button on the tactical console. Zuskoe’s face appeared on the main viewer. This
time, his hair was parted to the right, and it wasn’t so shiny. He had a worried expression on his face. “Can
we expect an alien invasion anytime soon, Captain?”
Picard frowned. “I honestly don’t know. I am going to suggest to Starfleet Command that they
send twenty starships to this sector just in case, and I want to take five starships to investigate Vraris.”
“These days, that’s a lot to ask for,” Zuskoe said. “You missed things while you were gone, Jean-
Luc. The Romulans are making increasingly aggressive moves against us. We’ve got fifteen starships
patrolling the Neutral Zone. And, considering Wolf 359…”
Picard suppressed a shudder. “I know,” Picard said, harried. “However, this threat is potentially
more serious. Their ships have carbon neutronium hulls, weapon arrays scattered all over their hulls that
shoot disruptor blasts, maximum warp speed which is higher than anything we’ve got…”
This was Zuskoe’s turn to suppress a shudder. “Well, you can submit your request to Starfleet, but
with the Romulans and all… we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Picard nodded. “We’ll be docking in fifteen minutes. Picard out.”

Later that night, Picard finally got around to hailing Starfleet Command. During the day, constant
reports on the Enterprise and its crew members demanded his attention. Only now did he have time to try
to get his request in.
Admiral Jordan’s wrinkled face appeared on the monitor. “Yes, Captain Picard?”
“Hello, Admiral. Let me get down to the point: we need to prepare for a possible alien invasion
from the Seraris Regions.”
Jordan frowned. “We just repelled a Borg invasion, the Romulans are asking for war, and now
aliens from the Seraris Regions who might come and invade. Just splendid. What do you know about
them?”
“They have spherical ships roughly half the size of a Borg cubeship. Their hulls are made out of
carbon neutronium. Scattered all around their hull, they have weapon arrays that shoot disruptor blasts.
Their maximum warp is many times our own. They have no shielding that we know of.”
Jordan frowned even harder. “What do you suggest?”
“I suggest that Starfleet assign twenty starships to patrol this sector. I also want to take a task
force of five starships, including the Enterprise, to Vraris.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve managed to locate Vraris? You most certainly accomplished a
lot in a short time.” She then got back onto the subject of assigning starships. “I will send ten starships to
patrol the sector, and three starships for your task force. That’s the best I can do.”
Picard nodded, and managed to keep the disapproval out of his voice. “Acknowledged, Admiral.
Picard out.”

Counselor Troi strode through the promenade on Starbase 123. The starbase most certainly felt
and looked like it was on the frontier: a bar, a casino, a shop, and that was all. The food tasted frontier as
well: Gronian mushballs, Huschk formons, Brunun biscuits, and Jordas kleeberworms. None of these foods
suited well with Troi. She hungered for chocolate.
“Not a very popular place,” Doctor Beverly Crusher noted of the bar. Only ten people were in
there, and none of them were human. Most of them were from races they had never seen before.
“I can understand why,” Troi replied. “The bar doesn’t serve human food, and most of the
station’s population is human.”
Crusher laughed. “Be thankful you don’t serve at this starbase, Deanna. The lack of chocolate
would drive you nuts.”
Troi was made even more hungry by the mention of chocolate. “The starbase’s replicators serve
human food, including chocolate, right?”
“There are only a very few human food selections,” Crusher said. “Chocolate is not among them.”
Troi got an ugly expression on her face. “This has got to be the strangest starbase I’ve ever been
to.”
Crusher smiled. “It’s strange, yes, but it’s not like the Federation outpost on Argania…”
Troi got a quizzical expression now. “Tell me about that outpost.”
Crusher was about to begin explaining when their commbadges beeped. “This is Captain Picard.
Repairs aboard the Enterprise are nearly completed. All personnel, report to the ship.”
Troi got an expression of glee on her face. “Good. My chocolate reserves are nearly dry.”
Crusher laughed as they headed for the airlock that led to the ship. “Well, you’d better stock up
now, before we go back into the Seraris Regions…”
Troi’s expression darkened. “I know.”

Captain Picard sat in the command chair. He touched a button on his right armrest that activated
the intercom. “Comamnder La Forge, report.”
“We’re ready to go, Captain,” Geordi’s voice came back. “All systems are as good as new.”
“Good work,” Picard said. “Picard out.” He turned to Ensign Tilda, who had taken over Wesley
Crusher’s position at the conn. “Ensign, take us out.”
“Taking us out, aye, sir,” Tilda said as she concentrated on her console. “Thrusters responding.”
Picard looked at the main viewer as he heard the Enterprise disengage locking clamps. The ship
sped towards the bay doors. They weren’t opening.
“Mr. Worf, ask Commander Zuskoe why the bay doors aren’t opening,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Worf acknowledged.
Picard waited for the answer while the Enterprise continued on its course. After a minute, he
ordered the ship to all stop. “Well, Lieutenant?”
“Commander Zuskoe is reporting that the power conduits to the bay doors are malfunctioning,”
Worf reported. “His engineers are already working on it.”
Picard nodded. “Get Commander Zuskoe on the screen.”
Zuskoe’s face appeared on the main viewer.
“Is this a fairly regular occurrence, Commander?”
Zuskoe nodded. “Happens every once in a while. We have requested new conduits from Starfleet,
but haven’t gotten any yet.”
Picard sighed. “How long until the power conduits are repaired?”
“Anywhere between two and three hours. There are an awful lot of power conduits for the bay
doors.”
“Acknowledged, Commander,” Picard said in a frustrated tone. “Picard out.”
“Zuskoe out.”
Picard was about to get out of the command chair when Counselor Troi said, “Can I see you for a
moment?”
Picard nodded as he got out of the command chair. “In the ready room.”
Picard and Troi walked into the ready room. The doors whooshed shut behind them.
“Captain, you’re worried,” Troi said.
“Of course I’m worried,” Picard replied. “We have powerful unknowns who might invade us, and
we have Romulans who want war. I think that’s a pretty good reason to be worried.”
“That’s not all of it.” Troi sat down in the guest chair. Picard sat in the captain’s chair.
“What else is it?”
“You tell me.”
Picard turned to the window behind his desk. “The Borg nearly destroyed us. These aliens are
most likely more powerful than the Borg. If they launch an invasion…” He shuddered.
“We can repel them,” Troi responded, with a worried tone in her voice. “Our disabling of that one
ship proves that.”
Picard turned back to Troi. “We disabled their propulsion systems. Who knows how many
starships it will take to actually destroy one ship? And who knows how many ships the enemy has? Also,
what if that was just a small scout ship?”
“That is a possibility,” Troi said. “But we repeled the Borg, and a century ago, the Furies. We can
repel this enemy.”
Picard raised an eyebrow. “The Furies? They had a powerful ship, but according to Kirk, no
strategy. The Furies had no battle experience. What if these aliens do have battle experience?”
“Then we will deal with it,” Troi replied. “It’s okay to be worried, but don’t let it control your
destiny.”
Picard got out of his seat. “I most certainly will not let it.”
“Good.” Troi said, getting out of her own seat. “Just remember: we can repel this enemy.”

Captain Picard sat down in the command chair. “Are the power conduits repaired?”
“Commander Zuskoe reports yes,” Worf reported.
“Then take us out, Ensign Tilda.”
“Taking us out, aye, sir,” Tilda replied. The Enterprise moved from its stationary position to the
bay doors. This time, the doors began to open. The blackness of space lay beyond.
The ship exited the starbase. Three Revolutionary-class starships were waiting for the Enterprise.
“The Lexington, the Concord, and the Ticonderoga are reporting, sir,” Worf reported.
Picard stared at the huge starships on the main viewer. These ships were in between Ambassador-
and Galaxy-class starships in the class system. The Revolutionary-class starships were named to honor the
American Revolution, and only names associated with that revolution could be tagged onto a Revolutionary-
class starship. The line of ships had a goos track record as well: one Revolutionary-class starship, the
Independence, had been destroyed. That starship was lost with so many others at Wolf 359. Picard was
sickened at the bitter reminder.
“Captain, are you all right?” Troi asked from his left.
“Quite fine, Counselor,” Picard replied. He smiled and stood up. “Ensign, all stop. Mr. Worf, hail
the Lexington.”
“Stopping the ship, aye, sir.”
“Yes, Captain.”
A red-haired young woman appeared on the main viewer. She had the most dazzling blue eyes, and
was quite attractive. She immediately looked at Commander Riker. “You couldv’e had this chair, you
know…”
“Don’t remind me,” Riker said. “If I knew who Command was going to put in charge of the
Lexington, perhaps I would have accepted the captaincy.”
The Lexington captain’s eyes bore into Riker’s. “You’re never going to forgive me for that, are
you?”
“Don’t count on it.”
Picard looked from Riker to the other captain. “Have you two met before?”
“Unfortunately, yes, Captain,” Riker said.
Picard decided not to pry. “Down to business. Lexington captain, is the fleet ready?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s ready. We haven’t been sitting around here for the past two
hours doing nothing. The name’s Grayson, by the way.”
Picard stared at Captain Grayson harshely. “All right, Captain Grayson. One more thing: do you
make a habit of smarting off to more experienced officers?”
Grayson was taken aback. “Me? Smart off? You’re dreaming, Captain Picard.”
Picard gave a long, heavy sigh. He got the feeling that he wasn’t going to like Grayson very much.
“Grayson, watch out. Picard out.”
After the main viewer returned to the view of space, Picard returned to his command chair. He
then began giving orders. “Mr. Worf, order the other starships to lay in a course for Vraris at a speed of
warp nine.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Ensign Tilda, engage the warp nine course for Vraris.”
“Engaging the course for Vraris, aye, sir.”
As the Enterprise went to warp, the other starships followed.

CHAPTER FIVE

Captain’s log, stardate 44115.2. The Enterprise, the Lexington, the Concord, and the
Ticonderoga are now on a course for the hypothosized location of Vraris. I have the feeling that I am
leading my crew into a death trap.

Captain Grayson gazed out the Eight-Forward front window. The view of space was the most
beautiful from this spot. She thought so, anyway. She wasn’t sure what everyone else thought, because she
was relatively new to the ship.
“Enjoying the view, Captain?” hostess Lydia Parker asked. She took the only other seat at
Grayson’s table.
“I suppose so,” Grayson replied, still gazing out the window.
Parker stared at Grayson, concerned. “What’s on your mind?”
Grayson turned to Parker. “I… just can’t stop offending people. I try so much not to, but I keep
on doing it. I have no friends.”
Parker still had that concerned look. “Obviously you have some friends. You do have command of
the Lexington, after all.”
Grayson smiled a little. “I suppose. However, I just wish I can just keep my mouth shut…”
Parker rose from her seat. She smiled a little, too. “Be careful what you wish for, Captain. You
just might get it.”
Grayson rose as well. “Are you an amateur counselor, by chance?”
“No, Captain. But I’m pretty sure my friend Guinan on the Enterprise is. I learned a lot of stuff
from her.”
Grayson didn’t reply to that. Instead, she said, “It was nice meeting my Eight-Forward hostess.
Good-bye.”
Parker bowed. “May the Force be with you, Captain.”
Grayson grinned. “That’s Star Wars, isn’t it?”
“Right, Captain.”
“That was a great trilogy, if scientifically inconsistent.”
“It doesn’t have to follow the laws of science to be great, Captain.”
Grayson nodded. “I agree.” She decided not to take up any more of the hostess’ time. “Bye.”
She rushed out of Eight-Forward before Parker could say anything more.

Lieutenant Commander Data monitored his Operations console. The Enterprise was operating at
optimum efficiency. He also focused on the sensor readings. They indicated nothing that warranted much
attention. But then, something interesting did show up on the sensors: a dense field of dronium particles one
million kilometers ahead of the starship. “Captain, dronium particles ahead. ETA is thirty seconds.”
Picard leapt from his chair. “Ensign Tilda, all stop!”
This time, Tilda didn’t bother replying. She just touched a button on her console. “All stop, sir.”
Data glanced at his board. “The dronium particles are five hundred kilometers in front of us.” He
then noticed something else. “Sir, the Ticonderoga and the Lexington went through the field of dronium
particles. They have suffered heavy damage.”
“Is there any way we can dissapate the dronium particle field, Mr. Data?” Picard asked.
“The majority of the field dissapated when the Ticonderoga and the Lexington went through it,
Captain.”
Picard nodded. “Hail the captain of the Lexington.”
“Their communication systems are down,” Worf reported.
“Then try the Ticonderoga.”
A young face appeared on the screen. His face was dirty with a huge cut going down his right
cheek. He only had the pips of a full commander.
“Where is your captain, Commander?” Picard demanded.
“He was in Engineering,” the commander said, his voice full of sorrow. “We have lost all contact
with Engineering.”
Picard surveyed the portion of the bridge that was shown on the main viewer. The bridge was lit
only with emergency lighting. The red alert klaxons were going off. Technicians were scrambling about.
“Do you require assistance?”
The commander nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”
Picard sat down in the command chair and activated the intercom. “Engineering, the Ticonderoga
needs assistance. Commander La Forge, assemble a team.”
“Yes, Captain,” Geordi’s voice said.
“Sickbay, Doctor Crusher, assemble a team to beam to the Ticonderoga.”
“Aye, sir,” the doctor’s voice acknowledged.
“Thank you, Captain,” the commander temporarily in charge of the Ticonderoga said.
“Your welcome, Com-”
Captain Grayson’s face appeared on the right half of the main viewer, and the commander’s face
shifted to the left. Grayson’s face was as dirty as the commander’s, her hair was a mess, and she had a slight
cut on the forehead. The Lexington’s bridge was in the same condition as the Ticonderoga’s. “I hope you
don’t mind if I butt in.”
The commander frowned. Picard sighed.
“Nothing makes your attitude go away, does it, Captain?” Riker asked.
Grayson sneered. “I am now a superior officer, Riker. I could give you a reprimand and put you
on report for such a remark.”
“Not a superior officer, Captain Grayson, but a higher-ranking one.”
Grayson took on an expression of fury. “All right, Riker! You asked-”
Picard put up his right hand. “Not now. Captain Grayson, do you need assistance?”
Grayson looked surprised. “Of course we need assistance,” she said matter-of-factly.
“We’re tied up with the Ticonderoga,” Picard replied. “The Concord is available.”
Grayson nodded, then winced. “All right, Enterprise. Lexington out.” The commander filled the
screen once again.
“Commander Patterson on the Ticonderoga out.”
“Chief O’Brien to Captain Picard, the medical and engineering teams are ready. Awaiting your
order, sir.”
Picard nodded at no one. “Energize, Mr. O’Brien.”
“Aye, sir,” O’Brien’s Irish voice replied. “Transport successful.”
Picard got out of the command chair. “Commander Data, why weren’t we so heavily damaged
when we went through that field of dronium particles prior to our arrival at Starbase 123?”
“The field wasn’t as dense, sir.”
Picard nodded. “Mr. Worf, scan for any signs of any alien vessel within sensor range.”
“None within sensor range, Captain,” Worf reported.
“Very well.” Picard made his way to the ready room. “Number One-”
“Alien vessel entering sensor range!” Worf reported. “It matches the configuration of the one we
encountered before.”
“Battlestations,” Picard ordered. He went to sit in the command chair as the red alert sirens wailed.
“Hail them.”
“We are getting a response, sir. Speakers only.”
“HUMAN CAPTAIN, SURRENDER YOUR FLEET OF STARVESSELS OR DIE!”
Picard frowned. How could the aliens know that they were called humans? They would have to
investigate that later. “Alien vessel, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets. We
mean you no harm. Our mission is of exploration, not conquest.”
“YOUR MISSION IS IRRELEVANT. THE STARVESSELS OF YOUR FLEET WILL BE
SURRENDERED TO US, OR YOU WILL BE DESTROYED.”
“You won’t take us without a fight,” Picard responded.
“FOOLISH. PREPARE TO DIE.” The aliens closed the channel.
Picard sighed. “Do the Lexington and the Ticonderoga have a chance, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir,” Worf said.
Picard rubbed his chin with his right hand for a moment. “Then we will have to go and meet it.
Data, ETA of the enemy?”
“One minute at present velocity, sir,” Data reported.
“Ensign Tilda, lay in an intercept course at maximum warp. Mr. Worf, tell the Concord to do the
same thing.”
“Laying in an intercept course, aye, sir.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Picard stared at the main viewer. The alien starship wasn’t visible yet. He held out his hand, and
pointed forward. “Make it so.”
“Making it so, aye, sir.”
The field of stars suddenly transformed into multicolored streaks flashing by. A light on Data’s
console flashed. “Visual range, sir.”
“On screen.”
The dark gray sphere appeared at the dead center of the main viewer. It was getting bigger by the
second.
“Is that the same one?” Picard asked Data.
Data touched some buttons on the Ops console. “The dimensions are precisely the same, sir.”
Picard nodded. “Mr. Data, do you think the tactic we tried before will work again?”
Data scanned the enemy vessel. “Affirmative, Captain.”
“Can you determine where we should beam in the torpedoes to destroy the enemy vessel?”
“The carbon neutronium prevents me from getting accurate information.”
“Can you hypothosize?” The alien ship was getting closer on the screen.
“My hypothesis is that if we beam twenty photon torpedoes into each of these tubes,” Data said as
the alien ship was magnified and two weapons tubes on opposite sides along the bottom were highlighted in
red, “and detonate them, the Threat force will be destroyed. I am seventy-four point thirty-nine hundredths
percent sure that destruction will occur.”
“We will beam torpedoes into one tube,” Picard said, “and the Concord will beam them into the
other. Mr. Worf, inform the Concord of our plans.”
“Aye, sir,” Worf said.
“Data, you will control the maneuver again.”
“Acknowledged, Captain.” Data changed the configuration of the Ops console to the one he had
used to attempt the maneuver before. “I am ready.”
“Very well,” Picard said. “ETA?”
“Five seconds at present velocity.”
“Slow to impulse,” Picard ordered.
“Slowing to impulse, aye, sir,” Tilda acknowledged.
The stars of normal space returned. The alien ship flickered for a moment to Data, but a normal
person would not have noticed it. The person would have assumed that the ship had come out of warp
simueltaneously. Data’s superior vision, however, saw otherwise. The starship had appeared in normal
space one millionths of a second after the Enterprise did. Data thought of this as he heard Picard say, “All
stations, prepare for… a Data Maneuver.”
Data raised his eyebrows. “Captain, it was your idea.”
“You perfected the maneuver, Data. Are all stations prepared?”
Data accepted the explanation as all stations reported ready.
Picard nodded. “Commander Data, engage.”
Data keyed into helm control, and put the Enterprise on a course for the weapon array on the port
side of the alien vessel. He kept his primary attention on navigation as the enemy fired disruptor blast after
disruptor blast at the Enterprise and the Concord. Most of the blasts hit their targets.
“Shields are at eighty percent!” Data heard Worf report in the background.
Data attempted to evade as much of the blasts as possible, while still maintaining a course for the
port weapon array. The ship was thirty seconds away from the target. The Enterprise shook with little
tremors until the ship reached its destination.
“Commencing the transporting of photon torpedoes,” Data reported. Everyone held their breath as
Data initiated a tractor beam, lowered the shields, and commenced transporting. “The process will require
ten seconds to complete.”
The tremors, meanwhile, escalted into quakes. A console in the aft section of the bridge exploded,
throwing the charred remains of Lieutenant Parseia over the tactical console and Worf to the command
section just before the command chair. Picard looked horrified at the site. “Sickbay, medical emergency on
the bridge.”
Data noted that everything was going considerably well so far. That changed, however. Seven
seconds into the process, he detected a torpedo being launched from the weapon array just above them. It
was aimed at the tractor beam. “Incoming torpedo.”
Picard slapped the shipwide intercom. “All hands, brace for impact!”
The process completed before the torpedo arrived. Data instantly raised the shields. He noted that
they were operating at twenty-nine point fifty-three hundredths percent power. It might not be sufficient to
protect them from a torpedo blast. He initiated an evasive maneuver.
It was too late, though. The torpedo struck three seconds after the process stopped. The conn and
several stations aft exploded, killing the people manning them. The turbolift doors opened, admitting
medical personnel. They stared in horror at all the dead bodies.
Data returned Ops to its normal red alert state. “Control restored to all stations except for conn.”
Picard nodded. “Get us out of here!”
Data engaged a course that led away from the enemy vessel at full impulse. The blasts and the
quakes continued at a rate worse than before. Data estimated that they would have to take the punishment
until the Enterprise was nine thousand kilometers away. The estimated time of arrival was thirty-seven
seconds.
The medics finished with the corpses. They put them on advanced gurneys, and with the gurneys
went into the turbolift.
“Captain,” Data said, still paying attention to his navigating, “I believe we can safely detonate the
torpedoes now. We will be at a safe distance when the enemy has been completely destroyed, resulting in
shock waves.”
“Do what you feel you need to do, Commander,” Picard said.
“Aye, sir.” Data sent the signal to detonate the photon torpedoes. The Concord did the same.
After five seconds, the bottom half of the ship was glowing with electricity. After ten, the entire ship was
glowing. All the pink weapon arrays shut down. After twenty seconds, the ship exploded. Shock waves
emanated from the explosion. By this time, however, the Enterprise and the Concord were safely out of
range. “Maneuver successful, sir.”
Picard grinned a little. “Well done, Commander Data.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Picard activated the intercom. “Engineering, damage report.”
“Lieutenant Williamson here, sir. The shields are at nine percent. Due to damage to the warp
drive, the safest maximum warp factor is six. Impulse power has been knocked down to a max of half
impulse. Major damage to decks nineteen through twenty-five. Minor damage to decks eleven through
thirteen. Holodeck systems rendered inoperative. Phasers are at a maximum of seventy-five percent power.
And, finally, life-support is at eight-two percent.”
Picard sighed. He hadn’t realized that they were damaged this badly. “Estimated time for repairs?”
“Two days, Captain.”
Picard frowned. “Get to work immediately.”
“Right away sir. Engineering out.”
“Sickbay, casualty report.”
“Doctor Selar here, sir. Twenty dead, thirty in critical condition, seven minor injuries.”
“Acknowledged, Doctor. Picard out.” He thought for a moment. So much damage and so many
injuries. The Borg were worse, though. He still couldn’t shake the thought that this enemy might be more
powerful than the Borg, though.
“Captain,” Worf said, “Concord, Captain Robertson, is hailing us.”
Picard looked at the main viewer. “On screen.”
A middle-aged man appeared on the main viewer. He had gray hair and a wrinkled face. “Captain
Picard, how do they know that we’re humans?”
“I don’t know,” Picard answered. “Commander Data?”
Data twitched his head a little, which indicated he was processing information. “They might have
downloaded information from our computers over the communications channel.”
“Wouldn’t we have been warned?” Worf asked.
“They obviously have technology superior to ours. They might have found a way to deactivate the
warning systems.”
“If that was true, why didn’t they deactivate everything?” Riker asked.
“They might have an honor system similar to the Klingons,” Data offered, glancing at Worf. “That
might prevent them from using some of their advantages.”
Robertson spoke up. “I don’t think so. These people remind me of the Borg. They just sit there
and fire. They also access our computers.”
“Either way, we have a dangerous foe on our hands,” Picard said. “Mr. Worf, hail the
Ticonderoga.”
This time, another man filled the main viewer. He had a large bloody gash on his forehead, one on
his right cheek, and another on his chin. His face was dirty as well. His hair was gray, like Captain
Robertson’s. “This is Captain Frike of the Ticonderoga. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you earlier.”
“Captain, how are repairs coming along?” Picard asked.
“Just fine and dandy. Your Geordi La Forge says that repairs will be complete within three days.
Besides that, your teams are ready to beam out.”
Picard nodded. “Inform them we’re on our way. Picard out.” Frike’s image winked out.
Picard made his way to the ready room as the aft turbolift doors opened. Ensign Wesley Crusher
strode to the conn, and sat down. “Ensign Crusher, lay in a course for the Ticonderoga, best speed.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Senior staff meeting at twelve hundred hours in the observation lounge,” Picard said. He entered
the ready room.

At twelve hundred hours, all the senior officers were in the ready room. “All right,” Picard said,
“Mr Data.”
“The alien race clearly has technology superior to ours,” Data said. “As the hulls of their ships are
constructed of carbon neutronium, however, I cannot say how superior. What I can say is that they are a
dangerous foe, along the scale of the Borg. We believe that they have already accessed our computers
without our knowledge. The information they might have retrieved puts the entire Federation at risk.”
Crusher spoke up. “Wouldn’t the Data Maneuver work again?”
“In all likelyhood, it will not, Doctor.”
Geordi said, “Data, why do they still use electricity?”
“It is very similar to electicity, but it is more advanced than electro-plasma.”
“What is your analysis of the disruptor energy?” Riker asked.
“It is not of a type we know of, Commander. It is more advanced than the disruptors encountered
by the Federation as of yet.”
Picard cleared his throat. “Data, do their ships have any other weaknesses?”
“None that I could detect.”
Picard’s commbadge chirped. “Picard here.”
“The starships Yamamato and Samurai from the Velusion Sector have arrived,” Sheer said. “They
are bringing repair crews to assist in repairs.”
Picard frowned. “Who contacted Starfleet?”
“They claim that you contacted Starbase 123 and requested assistance in repairing the Enterprise.”
“I made no such request.” Picard’s frown darkened. He looked around the table. “Duty stations.”
The senior personnel filed out of the observation lounge.

CHAPTER SIX

“Lieutenant Worf, I want continual sensor scans of every cubic milimeter within sensor range,”
Picard said, sitting in the command chair.
“Aye, sir,” Worf said, taking over the tactical station.
“Sir,” Data said, “that would take approximately-”
“Data, he knows what I mean,” Picard said.
“Affirmative, sir.” Data turned back to his Ops station.
“Worf,” Picard said, “tell the Yamamoto and the Samurai that we would welcome their assistance.”
“Yes, Captain.”

Captain’s log, stardate 44116.9. With the Yamamoto’s and the Samurai’s help, Commander La
Forge estimates repairs on all starships in the fleet will be completed within the day. After repairs are
complete, we will investigate the mysterious transmission to Starbase 123 that requested help.

“La Forge to bridge,” the intercom said, “repairs on all starships are complete.”
“Very good, Commander,” Picard said.
“Thank you, Captain. Sometimes I amaze even myself. La Forge out.”
Picard smiled for a moment. “Worf, did sensors pick up anything unusual in the last twelve hours?”
“Nothing, sir,” Worf reported.
“Then let’s lay in a course for Vraris, Ensign Crusher.”
“Course laid in, sir,” Wesley Crusher acknowledged. “Speed, Captain?”
“Warp nine point two.”
“Aye, sir.” Crusher inputed the intructions into the conn.
Picard leaned forward. “Make it so.”
Ensign Crusher didn’t acknowledge him. He just touched the engage button. The view on the
main viewer transformed from one of immobile stars to one of multicolored streaks flashing by.
“The Lexington, Ticonderoga, and the Concord are following,” Data reported.
Picard rose. “Number One, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my ready room.”
“Aye, sir,” Riker said, sitting in the command chair. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
Picard didn’t comment. He entered the ready room.

Picard finished going over every ounce of information Starfleet had on the Seraris Regions. Only a
tiny fraction was based on facts; the rest was on myth and legend. No species had ever reported contact
with any of the race the Enterprise was now encountering.
His commbadge chirped. “Picard here.”
“Sensors are detecting five enemy ships,” Worf reported. “They are on a direct course for Starbase
123.”
Picard shuddered. Starbase 123 didn’t stand a chance without help. And the fleet led by Picard
wouldn’t stand a chance, either. “Send an encypted subspace transmission informing them of the threat.”
“Aye, sir.”
Picard got up and walked into the bridge. “Yellow alert.”
There was a slight beeping noise. Bright yellow lights lit up throughout the ship.
“They should have us on their own sensors now,” Worf said.
“What are they doing?” Picard asked.
“Speed and course unchanged.”
Picard got out of the command chair. “Ensign Crusher, be ready for evasive maneuvers.”
“Aye, sir.”
“We are being hailed,” Worf reported.
“Put them on,” Picard ordered.
“FEDERATION STARVESSELS, IF YOU ATTEMPT TO INTERVENE, WE WILL DESTROY
YOU. THIS IS YOUR FIRST AND FINAL WARNING.”
Worf looked at his console. “Channel has been closed.”
Picard stared at the main viewer. “Data, are the vessels in visual range?”
“They will be in one minute,” Data replied.
“What is their speed?”
“Warp factor nine point nine nine seven five.”
Riker whistled. Picard frowned. Data was neutral, as usual.
“Extreme visual range,” Data said.
“On screen, full magnification.” Five dots the size of periods appeared on the screen. They were
almost indistinguishable from their surroundings. Then, suddenly, they were gone. “Data, what just
happened?”
“They increased speed to warp nine point nine nine nine nine.”
Picard’s frown got deeper. Then, Worf’s report only compounded matters. “They are sending a
subspace message to Starbase 123.”
“Let’s hear it,” Picard ordered.
“This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise,” a voice just like Picard’s said. “There is no longer an
alien threat. I repeat, there is no longer an alien threat. The situation is under control. Picard out.”
Picard got mad. “Data, is that voice indistinguishable from mine?”
“No, sir. Zero and nine one hundred billionths percent difference.”
“Devise a way for the computer to set up a warning system for fake voices, install it in our
computers, then send it to the other ships and Starfleet.”
“Aye, sir.” Data busied himself at the Ops board. His fingers danced across the console faster than
any human’s could. “Program complete and installed on our ship’s computers. Transmitting the program
now.”
“Include this: This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise. The alien threat remains. I repeat, the alien
threat remains. The previous transmission has been faked by the aliens. The attached program will help you
decipher the difference. Picard out.”
Data nodded, and attached Picard’s message. “Transmitting now.”
The voice of the aliens’ suddenly thundered over the speakers. “WE TOLD YOU NOT TO
INTERVENE. YOUR ATTEMPT TO REPEL OUR OFFENSIVE IS IN VAIN. WE WILL PREVAIL.
YOUR DEFENSES ARE USELESS AGAINST US.”
“They weren’t so useless when we disabled and later destroyed your other ship,” Picard replied.
His voice reflected his irritation. “I think-”
“IRRELEVANT. YOUR CIVILIZATION WILL EITHER SURRENDER OR BE
DESTROYED. THERE ARE NO OTHER ALTERNATIVES.” The aliens paused for a moment. They
heard chirping in the background. “RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.”
Picard broke out in a sweat. The aliens knew just where to strike him. “Resistance is not futile.”
“IT IS. WE WILL PROVE IT WHEN WE DESTROY STARBASE 123.” The channel closed.
“They are exiting sensor range,” Worf reported.
Picard was still sweating. He sat in the command chair. Riker looked at him, concerned. “Are you
all right, Captain?”
“Yes, Number One.” Picard faked a weak smile. “Don’t worry.”
Riker still had a concerned look on his face. He saw right through Picard’s smile. He said nothing
of it, though. “If you say so, sir.”
Picard turned away from his first officer, and towards the main viewer. The multicolored streaks
were still going by. What? Picard thought he’d ordered them out of warp. He guessed he hadn’t.
“Captain,” Troi said, “why don’t you get some rest. You haven’t done that in the last twenty-four
hours.”
Picard nodded. “I think you’re right.” He got out of the command chair, and headed for the aft
turbolift. “Number One, you have the bridge.”

Picard looked at the bridge on the viewscreen. Rather, he was forced to look. “If you attempt to
intervene, we will destroy you.”
The Vulcan captain strode to his command chair. “Arm photon torpedoes, ready phasers.”
Not again! Picard thought. He jumped back to consciousness. He was in his quarters, on the
Enterprise, not on a Borg cubeship. He was in a cold sweat. He hadn’t had one of these dreams for weeks.
The door chime rang. Picard checked the chronometer. Four hundred hours. What was anyone
doing up at this hour? “Come.”
Counselor Troi strode in. “I sensed strong fear and anger from you in my sleep.” Troi looked at
Picard. “Want to talk about it?”
Picard turned away. He stared out into space. “I haven’t had a Borg dream in weeks. Why are
they starting again now?”
“Why do you think?” Troi asked.
Picard looked at Troi again. “These enemies… they know exactly what to do, exactly what to say,
to strike me hard. There’s no telling what else they couldv’e downloaded from our computers.”
“That’s a valid concern,” Troi acknowledged. “But you can’t let that concern dominate your
decisions.”
“I know.” Picard got up and walked to the replicator. “You want anything?”
“No thank you, Captain.”
Picard nodded. “Tea, Earl Gray, hot.” The cup of tea materialized on the replicator platform.
Picard picked it up and took a sip.
“Captain, just remember: this enemy can be repeled, just like we repeled the Borg. In a sense, the
Borg were more powerful than them. We repeled the Borg, and we can repel this one.”
Picard looked at her. “I will try to keep that in mind. Good night, Counselor.”
Troi still looked concerned, but didn’t voice it. She just said, “Good night, Captain.” She exited
Picard’s quarters.

Commander Riker arrived on the bridge early. Data got out of the command chair and took his
seat at Ops. “We are fifteen minutes two seconds away from Vraris, Commander,” Data reported.
Riker sat in the command chair. He activated the intercom. “Senior staff, fifteen minutes away
from Vraris. Man your duty stations.”
Two minutes later, Worf and Troi walked out of the turbolift. They took their places on the bridge.
Captain Picard was no where to be seen.
“Where’s the captain?” Riker asked.
“He’s coming,” Troi said.
Five minutes later, Picard walked out of the turbolift. Commander Riker vacated the command
chair so Picard could sit there. “All hands go to yellow alert,” Picard ordered.
The condition lights lit up with an amber color. The alarm system gave a loud beep.
Picard activated the intercom. “Picard to La Forge, prepare for absolute maximum warp.”
Geordi’s disapproval showed in his voice. “Captain, the engines will automatically shut down in
ten minutes at maximum warp. Not to mention that the rest of the ships in our fleet only have a warp factor
nine point seven maximum warp.”
“I am aware of that, Commander,” Picard replied. “Prepare for absolute maximum warp.”
Geordi hesitated. “Aye, sir. Engineering out.”
Picard got out of the command chair and walked up to the front section of the bridge. “Mr. Data,
what would are ETA be at absolute maximum warp?”
Data checked his console. “Five minutes, sir.”
Picard turned to the officer manning the conn, Ensign Merrek. “Ensign, make it so.”
The Vulcan touched several controls. The background hum of the engines grew louder, and the
multicolored strips of light on the viewscreen began to go by at a faster rate. “We have achieved absolute
maximum warp, sir,” Merrek reported. “Nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds till power-down.”
Picard nodded and sat back down in the command chair. “Data, I want you to examine that star
system as thoroughly as we can from this distance.”
Data’s hands danced across the Ops console as fast as his android body would allow. “From this
distance, I can ascertain that there are twenty planets orbiting a type G star. I will report more information
as it becomes available.”
Picard turned to face his first officer. “Commander, I want you to prepare a possible away team for
beam down to Vraris.”
Riker nodded. “Very well. Worf, Data, Geordi, and Merrek are going for sure. Mr. Worf, assign
a security officer of your choice to accompany us on the away team.” Riker got out of the first officer’s
chair. “I’ll wait until we are within transporter range.”
Picard turned to face the main viewer. “ETA, Mr. Data?”
“Three minutes twenty seconds.”
“Time until power down, Merrek?”
Merrek checked her console. “Eight minutes and twenty-eight seconds, sir.”

Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge scanned the readouts on the matter-antimatter reactor in
his office. The reactor wasn’t showing any sign of strain. That would change soon, though. “Reg?”
The nervous engineer came up behind Geordi. “Yes, sir?” Lieutenant Barclay asked nervously.
Geordi waved at the blinking consoles in front of him. All hell was breaking loose already. “Keep
a close watch on the warp engines and the reactor, and tell me if anything happens.”
“Right.” Barclay took Geordi’s place as Geordi rushed to the master systems display, which
basically was a large table in the middle of Main Engineering with tons of readouts. Geordi checked the
fusion power reactors. These were showing signs of strain. He tapped his commbadge. “La Forge to
bridge.”
“Picard here, go ahead, Mr. La Forge.”
“The fusion reactors are showing signs of strain. We can’t keep this up much longer.”
There was a pause. “Mr. Data, what’s our ETA?”
“Fifteen seconds,” Data replied in the background.
Just then, Geordi heard an urgent beeping. On the ship display, a section of the EPS conduit
system providing power to the engineering section was flashing a bright amber. If they didn’t do anything
soon, the conduit would rupture. “Ensign Miller!”
“Yes, sir?” Miller asked, coming up behind Geordi.
“Shut down the power flow to that conduit,” Geordi said, pointing. Miller started her task as
Geordi rushed back into his office. “Reg, notify me if the matter-antimatter containment field fluctautes
even a fraction of a percent.”
“Yes, sir,” Barclay said, closely studying the status of the matter-antimatter reactor.
“Shut down complete!” Miller called. The lights began to dim. The flashing lights on all the
consoles weren’t as bright.
“All right,” La Forge acknowledged. “Bridge, we’re having problems down here. We might need
to shut down early.”
“I heard,” Picard replied. “Data, ETA?”
“Entering the solar system now, Captain.”
“You may drop out of warp now, Mr. La Forge.”
Geordi gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir.”
“And, Commander, you’re on the away team in twenty minutes. Picard out.”

Captain’s log, stardate 44118.6. The Enterprise and the fleet of ships following her have reached
the Vraris system. Lieutenant Commander Data is beginning initial scans now.

“Sensors are not detecting any dronium particles in this system,” Data said. “There is nothing that
would impede our movement except for an asteroid belt in the area between the fourth and fifth planets. It
should be relatively easy to navigate through, however.”
Picard nodded. “Where do you hypothosize Vraris is?”
“The only class-M planet in the system in the third planet.”
“Then lay in a course for the third planet, Ensign Merrek,” Picard ordered. “Full impulse power.”
“Aye, sir.” Merrek’s fingers danced across the conn. “Course laid in.”
“Engage.”
Merrek touched the engage button. “Course engaged, sir.”
Data assimilated the information reported by his Ops console quickly. “Sensors are detecting an
operational computer system, similar to the type we encountered at System A-95. The atmosphere of the
planet is an exact match as well.”
Riker whistled. “The Garthusians were obviously far more advanced than we are now.”
Data’s head twitched for a moment. “Sensors are also reading operational disruptor banks and
shield systems. They have been used fairly recently.”
Picard frowned. “Are you detecting life-signs?”
Data checked. “No, Captain.”
Picard got out of the command chair. “Number One, while you’re down there, make sure you find
out why those systems were used recently.”
“Acknowledged, Captain.” Riker stood up. He slapped his commbadge. “All away team
personnel, report to transporter room three.” Riker, Data, Worf, and Merrek piled into the turbolift.

The away team materialized in the outdoors this time. The sky was blue without a cloud in the sky.
Trees with healthy green tops stood all around. Blue grass covered the ground, while huge black buildings
surrounded the Starfleet officers. They were in the shape of spheres. Green tubes halfway up the height of
the buildings connected them. It was a pretty sight.
Something was terribly wrong, however. Humanoids were walking all around them. They were
approximately four feet tall, with thin arms and legs. They were the color gray, with huge black eyeballs on
their faces and a small slit for a mouth. Data realized that a record of this species existed in his memory
banks: these were the Grays from twentieth century Earth mythology. They supposedly abducted hundreds
on humans beings in a hundred year period from 1932 till 2032. After that, no more abductions were
reported to the authorities and media. They were long since forgotten about.
A group composed of seven Grays stopped to look at the away team. The large eyeballs made
slight movements as they examined the strangers before them. Riker cleared his throat. “I am Commander
William Riker of the Federation Starship Enterprise. We are on a mission of peace and exploration.”
The Grays did nothing to indicate that they understood what was being said to them. Instead, a
saucer-shaped craft appeared above them. It locked some sort of tractor beam on the away team. It paused
all senses and awareness. It then sucked them into the craft.

Data’s senses and awareness returned. He opened his eyes. He was in a brightly lit room that was
pure white. The intensity of the light would have hurt a human’s eyes, but Data’s android eyes were
unaffected. There were approximately twenety Grays in the room with him. The room was quite large.
Data sat up.
The Grays all looked at Data. The ones who were working on other matters stopped what they
were doing. Data hypothosized that they were curious as to how he managed to sit up.
[It is not like the others,] Data heard in his mind. [It is not organic, but artificial.]
“I am an android,” Data replied.
The Grays didn’t react. [What is an… android?]
“An artifical life-form,” Data said. “I have consciousness and sentience, just like the others, except
I am not organic.”
[I see. We must make use of this… android.]
“What do you mean?”
The Gray who was communicating didn’t answer him. Data simply shut down.

Riker awoke at the same spot he was standing before. The details were still fuzzy, but he could
remember weird little aliens surrounding him. He surveyed his surroundings. Everything was the same
except for the fact that this time, there was no one around. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get back up
to the ship. He felt terrible. “Riker to Enterprise. Beam us up.”

Picard gazed sternly at his first officer. “What’s the matter with you, Number One? You spend
eight hours down there, making no reports, and come back up with absolutely no information. Explain
yourself.”
Riker looked as if he was concentrating hard. “I… don’t remember. I only know that, one minute,
we were standing there and humanoids were surrounding us. The next minute, the aliens were gone, and I
was feeling terrible, so I called for a beam up. That’s all I remember.”
Picard frowned. “We’d better get everyone on the away team to sickbay.” He pressed the
intercom button on his ready room desk. “All away team personnel, report to sickbay for testing. Picard
out.”
Riker stood up. “Going down there now, sir.” He made his way for the door.
“I’m going with you,” Picard said. Riker and Picard exited together.

One hour later, Doctor Beverly Crusher was done with all her tests on the away team personnel.
She had them all sit on the diagnostic beds, for the moment. She faced Picard. “Captain, these people must
have been experimented on. There is an unusually high count of hipocantotine in their blood.” Beverly
noticed Picard had a blank expression on his face. “It’s an agent produced by hyperimaging scanners.”
Picard still looked blank. “The point is, these people were experimented upon using dangerous scanners. If
the hipocantotine count gets too high, it could mean death…”
Beverly motioned to Data. “We picked up numerous anomolies in Data’s programming, but he
insists he’s just fine and dandy.”
Picard walked up to where Data was sitting. “Why would they detect anomolies if there are none?”
“I don’t know, Captain. Perhaps they’re equipment is malfunctioning.”
Picard considered this. “Doctor, run tests on all your equipment. See if there’s anything wrong
with-” Picard noticed a worried expression on the doctor’s face. “What is it, Beverly?”
“He used contractions. Data never uses contractions.”
Data’s head twitched. “Perhaps the Grays gave me the ability to use contractions. I don’t know.”
“Then find out,” Picard ordered. “Find out exactly what the anomolies are and neutralize them.”
“I’ll need Geordi’s help,” Beverly said.
Geordi stood up. He walked over to where Picard and Data were. “Sure, Doc.”
Picard nodded. “Are the rest of them free to go?”
“Yes,” Beverly stated.
“Good.” Picard turned to the away team members. “Man your stations.”

Captain Picard looked at the main viewer. Captain Grayson was still a smart alec, as usual. “What
did your team find?”
“Well, you know the aliens in the huge ships you encountered? They’re the Garthusians.”
Picard was shocked. The mood of everyone on the bridge changed. Troi had a worried expression
on his face. Riker looked equally worried. Only Worf didn’t look affected. “This would probably be
consistent with Garthusian behavior. Myth and legend shows that they were militaristic. Your worries are
probably equally wrong. The Garthusian Empire was eliminated nearly four thousand years ago. I doubt
they are anything to worry about.”
“You’re wrong, Lieutenant. The Garthusians have been building up their fleet. They have an
almost bloodthirsty desire to regain their former power,” Grayson said.
“Why didn’t the aliens abduct your team?” Picard asked.
“I have no idea. I just know that they didn’t. Commander Richards has described the mission as
one of the most boring mission he’s ever led.”
Picard turned to Worf. “Inform Starfleet of our findings.”
“Aye, sir.” Worf got to work.
“Grayson out.” The main viewer returned to a view of Vraris.
The turbolift doors opened. Data, Beverly, and Geordi strode onto the bridge. The crew looked at
them. “I can’t find a thing really wrong with him,” Beverly said, motioning towards Data.
Picard frowned. “What about the anomolies?”
“They just disappear whenever I begin to examine them closely,” Geordi said.
“I’m just fine, Captain,” Data said.
Picard considered the situation. “All right. Data, take Ops. If you feel anything out of the
ordinary, go down to sickbay right away.”
“Certainly, sir,” Data said. He quickly relieved the officer manning Ops. “Orders, Captain?”
Picard sat in the command chair. Geordi and Beverly exited the bridge. “Right now, we attempt to
contact the Garthusian government and try to make a peace.”
“It would most likely be futile,” Data replied. “In all other communications, they’ve made it clear
that they wish to take over or destroy the Federation.”
Picard looked at Data strangely. “They never said that implicitly, Mr. Data. We know that they
want their empire back, but they never expressed any wish to go beyond that.”
“Captain,” Worf spoke up, “the Garthusians are a militaristic race. They would most certainly want
to conquer the Federation.”
“We must at least try to make peace,” Picard said. “Mr. Worf, open a channel to the planet.”
Worf scowled but did as he was told. “No reply.”
“Then make them hear us.” Picard paused as Worf complied. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of
the Starship Enterprise, representing the United Federation of Planets. It is our desire to make this conflict
come to an end.”
A hideous creature appeared on the main viewer. It was a gray being, with huge black eyeballs on
its face. It was quite thin. “I am Jokork Mizalonono, leader of the Garthusian race. Captain Picard, your
desires are irrelevant to us. Your weak Federation will bow before the might of us. As will all races who
stand in our way. Manifest Destiny will be satisfied. For your foolish incursion into our system, you will
die. Out.”
Picard cursed as Mizalonono’s image disappeared. He noticed Data busy at his console. “What is
it, Data?”
“A most puzzling event. Several of the asteroids in the asteroid belt are now being read as
starships! Ten of them!”
“Red alert,” Riker ordered. The alarms started sounding.
Picard frowned at Data’s emotion. “Data…”
“I am quite all right,” Data replied.
Picard decided not to pursue the matter further, especially not with this crisis. “Can we warp away
before they reach us?”
“No, sir,” Data responded. “The outer edge of the system is full of dronium particles!”
So they’ve been doing it all along, Picard thought. “Well, we most certainly can’t stand up against
these ships. Warping away is our only option. Ensign Merrek, take us to the outer edge of the system, warp
three.”
Riker’s eyebrows shot up. “Inside a solar system?”
“We haven’t much choice, Number One,” Picard said. “Engage!”
Merrek engaged the course. The Enterprise reappeared in normal space several seconds later at
the system’s outer edge. “Data,” Picard said, “find any holes in the dronium field.”
“I will try,” Data said, beginning his task.
Picard got out of the command chair and paced the bridge while Data tried to find a hole. Before
that hole could be found, though, Worf reported, “Ten starships off our starboard bow. The other captains
have informed us that they will follow our example.”
Picard raced back into his command chair as the enemies began firing. “Mr. Worf-”
“Hole found!” Data said excitedly. “Engaging warp drive!” The Enterprise and her fellow
starships warped away from the Vraris system.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Captain’s log, stardate 44209.9. Five days after our encounter with the Garthusians at Vraris, the
Enterprise, Lexington, Ticonderoga and Concord are on a course for Starbase 123.

“We are thirty seconds from Starbase 123,” Data announced cheerily. Data then suddenly frowned
at his board. “Sensors are detecting evidence of a battle. Heavy concentrations of nadions, suggesting
heavy use of phasers, and heavy concentrations of positrons, suggesting heavy use of Garthusian-style
disruptors.”
“Slow to impulse,” Picard ordered. “Status of Starbase 123 and the fleet?”
“There is a heavy concentration of debris at the former location of the starbase,” Data said.
“Starbase 123 has been destroyed. I am also reading concentrations of debris suggesting four Excelsior-
class starships and one Ambassador-class starships were destroyed as well.”
“Almost the whole fleet,” Riker whispered. “Half of it, anyway.”
Picard scowled at the findings. The Garthusians cut through their defenses like scissors through
paper. “What about the other five starships?”
“They are not within the sector,” Worf reported.
Picard stood up and went to the aft section of the bridge, just behind Worf. “Contact the nearest
starship outside our fleet, Leiutenant.”
Worf touched several places on the tactical console. “Starship Ariel on speakers, sir.”
Picard nodded. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise. Have you seen the five
remaining starships of the defensive fleet leave the Velusion sector?”
“This is Captain Williams. Not at all, Captain Picard.”
Picard cursed under his breath. “What about the five enemy starships?”
“We monitored four of them enter our sector,” Williams said. “Admiral Jordan has ordered us not
to engage them.”
“What is their course?”
“They are heading for the colony on Pineiro Thirteen at warp factor nine point nine nine nine. They
will be there in five minutes. A task force of six starships is waiting for them.”
“Judging by the evidence here, that won’t be enough.”
“I know. But Starfleet has ordered us not to engage the enemy.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that. Picard out!” He made his way for the ready room. “Mr. Worf,
get me Admiral Jordan on the double!”
“Aye, sir.” Worf touched his console in several places. “She’s on your ready room screen.”
Picard entered his ready room.

“Captain,” Jordan said, “we just received your information on the enemy aliens, the Garthusians.
Excellent work, Picard.”
Picard grimaced. “Admiral, are you taking the threat at all seriously?”
“Most certainly.” Jordan smiled. “I am assembling quite a fleet of ships to meet them at the
Feronium system. Fifteen Federation starships, and the Klingons have agreed to send some as well.”
“What about the colonists on Pineiro Thirteen?”
“They have been warned that the Garthusians are coming. Anyone who wants to evacuate can.”
Picard scowled. “Picard out.”

Captain Franklin watched the four approaching dots on the main viewer. The red alert sirens
howled in the background. Tension was high everywhere on the ship. He raised an eyebrow as the ships
began to get more pronounced. “They’re sure fast.”
“They will arrive in fifteen seconds,” the tactical officer, a Vulcan named Corrik, reported.
Franklin bit his lip. “Hail them,” he ordered nervously.
“Aye, sir,” Corrik acknowledged. “No response.”
“Force it.”
“Forced, sir.”
“This is Captain Benjamin Franklin of the Federation Starship Legacy. You have made several acts
of aggression against us and have violated our space. Withdraw immediately.”
No response came from the enemy starships. Franklin waved up his hand, signaling the channel
should be cut. “Order the Hornet to fire several warning blasts at the approaching ships.”
Corrik nodded. “They are doing so now, Captain.”
“Change to a view of the Hornet,” Franklin said. He watched the Miranda-class starship fire
several phaser blasts several kilometers from one of the enemy starships’ hulls. The enemy dropped out of
warp, and all four starships fired disruptors at the Hornet. Franklin didn’t need to be told that the Hornet
was suffering.
“Their shields are down to forty-six percent,” Corrik said. “They have damage on all decks.”
Franklin kept his eyes on the main viewer. He could see the Hornet limp forward, towards the
enemy ship farthest to the right. “What are they doing?” he barked.
“Commander Vistril is informing us he intends to ram the starship,” Corrik said. “They are
engaging warp drive.”
Franklin’s eyes never left the Hornet. It’s warp nacelles lit up, then it disappeared into subspace.
The enemy ship was still there, though. Franklin cursed under his breath. “Any damage to the enemy?”
“Hard to tell,” Corrik said. “Our sensors cannot penetrate their hull, as it is constructed of carbon
neutronium. There is no significant damage to the hull, though.”
“Why don’t you try scanning through the weapon arrays? They aren’t made of carbon
neutronium.”
“I have already attempted that. They have erected some sort of energy field which prevents
scanning.”
“Fire phasers on full power at one of the fields and see what happens.”
“Aye, sir.”
Franklin turned his attention back to the main viewer. By now, the enemy vessels had focused their
attention on the Columbia. Red phaser beams lanced out from a point underneath the viewer’s line of vision
and struck one of the weapon arrays. At that point, Franklin saw an orange cackle of energy. The beam
must have struck an energy field.
“One energy field neutralized,” Corrik said.
“All right.” Franklin got out of the command chair. “Target-”
“Computers being probed!” the Operations officer, a human named Dean, exclaimed.
“I thought that they could hide it when they did that?” Franklin said.
“It is probable that this time, they are choosing not to disclose their probing,” Corrik said, “or that
the masking technology requires open communication frequencies.”
“Find a way to stop the probing,” Franklin ordered his Ops officer. “What are they probing,
anyway?”
“Information on our defensive and propulsion systems,” Dean said, not nearly as excited this time.
“They seem to be really interested in our propulsion systems, though.”
“Why our propulsion systems?” the first officer, Commander Balboa, muttered.
“The warp drive,” Corrik answered.
“They might be trying to cause a core breach,” the conn officer, Lieutenant Davidson, said.
Franklin punched on the intercom. “Engineering, is there a warp core breach in progress?”
“Chief Engineer Vigin here, sir. No, there isn’t. Why?”
“The aliens are probing our computer systems. They are particularly interested in the propulsion
systems, and they might be trying to cause a warp core breach.”
“I’ll do my best to prevent one from happening.”
“Good. Franklin out.” He looked at the main viewer. The four enemies were closing in on the
Legacy. Their weapon arrays were a hot pink. They were obviously waiting for something. He wondered
why they didn’t just attack and be done with it. He decided to take advantage of this opportunity. “Helm,
evasive maneuvers. Don’t let them trap us.”
“Evasive maneuver pattern Riker Beta confirmed, Captain,” Davidson acknowledged. The Legacy
veered away from the enemies, and the main viewer showed their four remaining friends. So far, the
enemies hadn’t fired on them.
Franklin considered the mystery. The Garthusians had an enormous tactical advantage. He
wondered why they weren’t exploiting it. “Mr. Corrik, hail them.”
“Aye, sir.” Corrik touched several buttons on his tactical console, and then touched another series
of buttons. “I was forced to force a connection, Captain.”
Franklin nodded. “This is Captain Franklin. We still have a chance of resolving this peacefully.”
Just as Franklin had anticipated, no response from the aliens. They sure were stubborn. Then, he
decided to take a bold step. “If you do not withdraw, we will destroy you.”
That got a response. “FEDERATION STARVESSELS, SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY OR BE
DESTROYED. THIS IS YOUR FIRST AND ONLY WARNING.”
“No, Garthusian vessel. We will not surrender. If you want to destroy us, you are welcomed to
try.” Franklin tried to put a lot of confidence in his voice. He had no idea if he was succeeding.
They heard a lot of activity over the communications system. Beeps and woops were heard
repeatedly. Finally, “YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO DECEIVE US. YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED.
PREPARE TO DIE, FOOLISH HUMAN.” The channel was cut.
Franklin sat back in the command chair. “Is there any way we can mask one of their vessels from
sensors?”
The bridge crew all put their noggins to work. Corrik came up with an answer first. “We could
enclose the vessel within a field of tetryon particles.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Aye, sir. All vessels will be needed for this maneuver.”
“Do what you need to.”
“Yes, Captain.” Corrik bent over his tactical console, and his fingers danced speedily all across the
board. Then, he was ready. “Helm, lay in a course for nine mark two, bearing one twenty-three.”
“Aye, sir.” Davidson laid in the course. “Speed?”
“Full impulse. Engage.”
Davidson complied. The other starships also changed their positions. Two seconds later, a red
frame surrounded one vessel. “This will be our target,” Corrik said.
Franklin nodded. “Make the tetryon field so.”
Corrik didn’t reply. He just fired a barrage of phasers and photon torpedoes. Franklin leapt out of
his seat. “Corrik-”
“Initiating tetryon field… now.” Corrik touched several buttons. The enemy starship disappeared
from the main viewer.
“Where’d it go?” Balboa asked.
“The concentration of tetryon particles was great enough to conceal it from view,” Corrik replied.
“That is why all five starships were needed.” He then looked at a spot on his tactical console. “We are
being hailed.”
Franklin smiled. “Pipe it through.”
“YOU HAVE SOMEHOW DESTROYED OUR FLAGSHIP. YOU WILL GIVE US THIS
METHOD, OR WE WILL TAKE IT BY FORCE.”
Franklin scowled. Didn’t these people ever learn? No wonder their empire collapsed. “How do
you know we just won’t use the same method on your remaining ships?”
There was no reply. Just a bunch of beeps, woops, and whirs. Then, he heard the alien mutter,
“LaBeem… SokJoy?” Finally, “YOU HAVE HIDDEN OUR FLAGSHIP FROM SENSOR VIEW. WE
ARE NOT FOOLED. YOU UNDERESTIMATE GARTHUSIAN INTELLIGENCE. THIS DECEPTION
WILL NOT WORK.” Then, a pause. “PREPARE TO BE BOARDED.”
Franklin raised an eyebrow. So far, they had only expressed interest in destroying them, not
boarding their starships. “If I refuse?”
“YOU HAVE NO CHOICE.” The channel was cut.
“Captain,” Corrik said, “they are firing.”
Franklin sat back down in his command chair. The other personnel took hold of whatever they
could. Then, the purple disruptor beams poured onto the Federation starships from the Garthusian starships.
Shields crackled, consoles exploded, people screamed. “Evasive maneuvers!”
“Aye, sir!” Davidson punched franctically at the conn. “Propulsion systems down!”
“Shields are down, sir,” Corrik reported calmly.
“This sucks,” Balboa said.
Franklin scowled. Then, his bridge personnel started disappearing, one by one. Then, finally, he
was taken.

Captain Picard looked at the schematics of the battle at the Pineiro System with displeasure. The
Hornet was gone, and the other five Federation starships weren’t in much better shape. Then, the ships
began losing life-readings, one by one. It was unlike any weapon Picard had ever seen before.
“Their shields are down, Captain,” Data surmised. “Perhaps the aliens simply beamed the crews of
the starships into their own to run experiments on them.”
“It is possible,” Worf said.
Picard sat there, a grim expression on his face. “We have to see what’s going on. Ensign Merrek,
lay in a course for Pineiro Thirteen, warp factor nine.”
Riker spoke up. “Starfleet has ordered us not to go to the Pineiro System, Captain.”
“To hell with our orders!” Picard exclaimed angrily. “Engage the course and speed!”
Data turned around. “I concur with the captain. Our orders stink.”
Troi and Riker got a smile on their faces. Worf grunted. Merrek didn’t react. Picard allowed
himself a small grin. “Ensign Merrek, sometime today please.”
Merrek did as she was told. The still stars on the main viewer were replaced by multicolored
streaks passing by.
“ETA is fifteen minutes, Captain, since we took the wise precaution of being relatively close to the
system, but not getting too close,” Data said.
“Sucking up, Data?” Riker asked.
“I am not a suck-up,” Data replied. “I am offended that you would mistake me for one.”
Picard held up a hand. “Stop.” Picard looked back at Worf. “Red alert.”
The red alert sirens sounded throughout the ship.
“Let’s prepare for battle early,” Picard said. “Overstaff the bridge.”
“Ordering the bridge overstaffed, sir,” Riker said, tapping the instructions into his screen. Several
minutes later, a variety of redshirts, goldshirts, and blueshirts entered the bridge from both turbolifts. They
stood to the side of the bridge, out of the way.
“Ten minutes, Captain,” Data reported.
“Captain,” Worf barked, “the Garthusians have sent shuttles down to Pineiro Thirteen.”
Picard scowled. “Have any colonists evacuated?”
“None, sir,” Worf reported.
Picard cursed under his breath. The colonists would most certainly be murdered, or worse,
experimented on. Picard shuddered at the thought.
“Starship Ariel is contacting us,” Worf said.
“On screen.” Captain Williams’ features appeared on the main viewer. He was a middle-aged man
with wrinkled skin and gray, balding hair. He had a stern expression on his face. “Captain Williams?”
“Starfleet specifically ordered us to stay away from the Pineiro System,” Williams said angrily.
“We have to obey those orders, even if we don’t like them.”
“Captain Williams,” Picard said, “we can’t just leave the colonists on the thirteenth planet to die.
We have to do something.”
“And just what are we going to do, Picard?” Williams asked. “Six starships failed to stop them;
what makes you think two can?”
“The Ticonderoga, Lexington, and the Concord are lurking out there somewhere, waiting to help
us.”
Williams scoffed. “The addition of three starships won’t do squat. Plus, they’re in the Velusion
sector; it will take them a long time to get here.”
“Captain-”
“I’ve made my decision, Captain Picard,” Williams said. “Ariel out.”
Picard slammed both arms of the command chair. Troi looked at him, concerned. Picard stared
back. “No, I am not taking a rest this time.”
“Captain, you haven’t slept in-”
“Neither have you, Counselor!” Picard got out of the command chair. “How long, Mr. Data?”
“We are entering the Pineiro System now, sir,” Data said nervously.
“Slow to impulse, Merrek,” Picard ordered.
“Aye, sir.” Normal space returned to the viewscreen, except this time, multicolored charged
energy was floating everywhere. In the distance, five Federation starships were sitting still. Four sphere-
shaped ships were near their locations. A debris field was floating near one ship. Pineiro Thirteen could be
seen quite a distance away, with five brightly colored moons in tow.
“Take us to the planet,” Picard said. “Full impulse power.”
The Enterprise slowly went past the fields of energy and the starships, and made its way towards
Pineiro Thirteen. The four spheres didn’t make a move.
“Scan the planet, Mr. Data,” Picard ordered. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Data’s fingers danced across the Ops console at a superhuman rate. “Thirty-two flying saucers are
on the planet or flying within the atmosphere. Approximately thirty-nine thousand human life-signs are
detected, out of the orginal forty-nine thousand five-hundred and twenty-seven. One thousand life-forms
unknown to the computer are being detected as well; I believe it is safe to assume that these are Garthusians.
I request permission to enter that information into the computer.”
“Permission granted.”
Data touched several buttons on his console, then continued. “Approximately nine settlements are
completely dominated by the Garthusians. I hypothosize that the Garthusians intend to use this planet in
their conquest of the Federation.”
“I see where you’re going,” Riker said. “They’re killing all the people in the cities, and then just
taking over. That’s why they don’t just bombard the planet from orbit.”
“Correct, Commander.”
“We have to stop them,” Picard said.
“We can just destroy their saucers from orbit,” Worf offered.
“That will attract the attention of the four spheres out there,” Riker commented. “We don’t want
to do that.”
“I don’t see any other choice,” Picard said. “We cannot allow the Garthusians to take the planet.
Mr. Worf, locate and destroy the saucers.”
“Aye, sir,” Worf acknowledged. He targeted ten saucers at one time, fired phasers, and then fired
photon torpedoes. Each saucer only took one phaser blast and one torpedo to implode, which was good,
because the Enterprise could only fire ten phaser beams and ten photon torpedoes at a time. Worf then
noticed something alarming. The Garthusian spheres had indeed noticed their activity, and were moving to
intercept. “The Garthusians are moving in, Captain.”
“They will arrive in thirty seconds,” Data reported.
“Destroy as many saucers as you can before we have to break orbit,” Picard ordered.
“Yes, Captain.” Worf targeted another ten saucers, fired another series of ten phaser blasts and ten
photon torpedoes, and then targeted another ten, and repeated the process. After that, two saucers were
left.
“Fifteen seconds,” Data said.
Worf quickly targeted the remaining two, and fired. They both imploded as expected. “All saucers
have been destroyed, sir.”
“Eight seconds, sir.”
Picard punched a pair of coordinates into the keypad on the command chair’s right arm, raised his
right hand with pointer finger erected, then pointed pointed forward. At the same time, he said, “Helm,
warp one, engage!”
Merrek brought up the coordinates on the conn, set the speed, and pressed the engage button.
“Engaged, sir.”
The Enterprise sped past the Garthusian sphereships, and raced towards the edge of the system.
“Raise warp factor to nine,” Picard said.
“Aye, sir.” Merrek made the alteration to the ship’s speed, and pressed the engage button. The
multicolored streaks on the main viewer began going by faster.
“There are no signs of pursuit,” Worf reported. “We are being hailed by Admiral Jordan.”
Picard cursed under his breath. He’d been doing that with alarming frequency lately. “On screen.”
Picard got out of the command chair and walked towards the main viewer at the front of the bridge. Jordan
had an angry expression on her face. “Can I do something for you, Admiral?”
“You violated a direct order not to go into the Pineiro System. I am officially-”
“Admiral,” Picard interrupted, “the Garthusians have attempted to take over Pineiro Thirteen. The
Enterprise has prevented that-”
“You don’t interrupt a superior officer!” Jordan raged. “Now, I am officially reprimanding you for
this action. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Picard sighed, exasperated. “Yes, sir.”
Jordan nodded. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on this.”
Worf interrupted the conversation. “The Garthusian vessels are leaving the Pineiro System, and are
on a course for Outpost 199 on Halbson Six.”
Jordan looked upwards, towards Worf. “We will warn the outpost. Estimated time of arrival?”
Worf checked his console. “At their present speed of warp nine point nine nine nine, one hour.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Sure are fast all right.” She looked down at Picard. “The Crazy Horse
and the Gorkon will intercept the Garthusians at Halbson Six. The Enterprise will lay in a course for
Kimistara.”
Picard nodded. “The closest strategic Federation planet to Halbson Six.” He turned to Ensign
Merrek. “Lay in a course for Kimistara at warp factor nine.”
“Aye, sir,” Merrek said. “Course laid in.”
“The George Washington, Pearl Harbor, Ariel, and the Aristide will meet you at Kimistara.
Jordan out.” The view returned to warp space.
Picard sat down in the command chair. “Make it so, Merrek.”
“Yes, Captain.” She pressed the engage button on the conn. The multicolored streaks shifted
around slightly, then returned to a straight course.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Captain’s log, stardate 44212.9. The Enterprise has arrived at Kimistara, along with the George
Washington, Pearl Harbor, Ariel and the Aristide. The Garthusians’ attack on Outpost 199 has not been
repeled, and the Crazy Horse and the Gorkon were found simply floating adrift in space, in similar
condition to the fleet at the Pineiro System. As of yet, we do not know the fates of the missing personnel.

Lieutenant Commander Data sat in his quarters, as he had been for many nights, pondering why the
Garthusians had given him emotions. It was puzzling. They did not seem to have any good will towards the
Federation. He wondered why they would give him special treatment.
The chime to the entrance of his quarters buzzed. “Come.”
Geordi walked in, looking tired. He had worked overtime in Engineering today. “Data, I came to
see what you were doing.”
Data stood up and walked away from his sofa. “I am still pondering why the Garthusians gave me
emotion.”
“Don’t ask me,” Geordi stated. “I can’t actually find a thing wrong with you. The only obvious
differences are your emotions, use of contractions, and your occasional use of slang words. Everything else
is unaffected.”
Data shook his head. “That is contradictory to what we know of the Garthusians. I may be
affected in a way we don’t yet realize.”
Geordi paused for a moment. “Well, we’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now-”
Commander Riker’s voice sounded through the comm system. “Red alert, battlestations!”
Data and Geordi looked at each other for a moment, then exited the room.

Picard examined the attack pattern Worf was proposing. It was frequently used by Klingon
commanders, and had all ships moving quickly at the enemy in a series of thruster and impulse maneuvers,
meant to confuse the opponent. He wasn’t convinced it would work. Picard pointed at the speed and
position of the two flanking ships. “These two would be vulnerable,” Picard said. “They could be picked
off easily.”
“The two ships in those positions are not expected to survive the maneuver,” Worf replied. “They
are meant more as… destractions.”
Picard grimaced. “Unacceptable.” He glanced towards the aft turbolift as Data entered the bridge.
He gestured to the tactical console. “Ah, Data, perhaps you could help us over here.”
“Certainly, Captain,” Data said. He walked over to where Picard and Worf were standing. “How
may I be of assistance?”
Picard motioned towards the tactical display of the Glorital Maneuver. He pointed at the two
flanking ships. “How could we modify this maneuver so that these two ships won’t be vulnerable?”
Data studied the display closely. “It cannot be done. At least two ships will be vulnerable no
matter how we modify the attack pattern.”
Picard sighed. “Thanks anyway, Data.”
“None necessary, sir. Is that all?”
“Yes.”
Data turned around, and manned the Ops station. Worf shut down the display for the attack
pattern. Picard rounded the bridge horseshoe and sat in the command chair. “How long until the
Garthusians arrive?”
Data checked his console. “Five minutes, sir.” There was an edge of nervousness in his voice.
“Data, during the engagement, I want you to scan the enemy vessels as closely as you can. I want
to know everything about them as we possibly can.”
“We already do have-”
“Just do it anyway, Commander. That’s an order.”
“Aye, sir.”
Riker looked at Picard. “Armageddon awaits us, Captain.”
Picard shook his head. “Not quite yet, Number One. Not quite yet.”
Riker listened to what Picard said. “How are we going to win? They’ve adapted to the Data
Maneuver and the Picard Maneuver, and they’ve got hulls made out of carbon neutronium.”
“We’ll find a way, Commander.” Picard paused. “Just have faith.”
Riker nodded. “I’ll try, sir.”
“One minute, Captain,” Data reported.
Picard got out of the command chair. He turned to Worf. “Are the other ships ready?”
“All but one, sir,” Worf said. “The Pearl Harbor is experiencing minor power fluctuations.”
“Not now, dammit,” Picard cursed. “How long do they expect to be unready?”
“They do not know. They haven’t found the source of the problem yet.”
“Well, tell them-”
“They are entering the system,” Data interrupted.
Picard whirled around to face the main viewer. “On screen.”
The view shifted to show four huge, gray, sphere-shaped vessels against a starry background.
Their weapons arrays were the hot pink of powered-up status, and dozens of flying saucers were flying
around them. A flotilla of pyramid-shaped craft were leading the fleet. Almost half of the pyramids veered
off towards the Pearl Harbor. They began firing disruptor beams.
“Forty pyramids attacking the Pearl Harbor,” Worf said. “They are converging on the engineering
section.”
As Picard watched, the pyramids began focusing their attack on the rear of the Pearl Harbor. Hot
pink disruptor beams collided with the ship’s shields, causing a blue-green crackle of energy. Phaser beams
flashed from the Pearl Harbor. They mowed down the pyramids like a human would mow down a gnat.
“Fifteen pyramids have been destroyed, Captain,” Worf reported. “Another five are in critical
condition.”
Just then, all shields of the Pearl Harbor’s engineering section went down. Disruptor beam after
disruptor beam struck against unprotected hull. Fire and gases leapt into space from the big gaping gashes
left by the disruptors.
“They have severe damage to their engineering section,” Data said. “The damage has worsened the
power surges. They now place the Pearl Harbor in grave jeopardy.”
The pyramids began firing disruptors at the warp nacelles. The big, long warp nacelles of the
Excelsior-class starship were hard to miss. Both warp nacelles exploded, and the Pearl Harbor followed
suit moments later. Picard watched the scene with agony. He had seen too many ships go like that at Wolf
359.
“Sensors detect no escape pods,” Data said. “There are no survivors.”
Everyone on the bridge, except Merrek, got grim expressions on their faces. One starship was
already gone in an incredibly short period of time. And that was just by the pyramids. Picard sat back down
in the command chair as he watched all the pyramids move in on the Enterprise. “Mr. Worf, destroy all of
them as quickly as possible.”
Worf didn’t bother replying. He just fired at the pyramids with fully powered phasers, ten at a
time. He destroyed half of them before they began firing their own weapons. The Enterprise rocked a little
with each impact, but that was about all. The shields were holding quite nicely. After another minute, he’d
destroyed the remaining pyramids. “Targets destroyed, sir.”
Picard gave a sigh of relief, but he knew it wasn’t over yet. He watched all of the saucers veer
towards the Enterprise and her sister, the George Washington. The saucers were all small vessels, about the
size of the saucer of an Oberth-class starship, were dark grey in color, and had a huge hot pink spot on the
bottom that Picard assumed were weapon arrays. “Lieutenant, destroy the saucers.”
Worf locked on phasers and photon torpedoes, and fired the maximum ten shots at a time. The
George Washington did the same. Twenty saucers were destroyed. The saucers fired back with a
vengeance. The Enterprise shook under the impacts of the disruptor beams. Then, the shaking stopped.
Worf no longer detected any Garthusian ships within sensor range. “Sensors detect no longer detect any
Garthusian ships.”
The main viewer showed asteroids in their places. Data unnecessarily said, “Sensors are now
detecting asteroids at their former locations.”
Picard scoffed. “They did this trick before. It won’t work this time. Mr. Worf, inform the fleet to
target the saucer-sized asteroids and fire.”
“Aye, sir.” Worf notified the fleet, then locked onto ten asteroids, and fired. The other starships
also fired all the weapons they could at one time. The remaining saucers were destroyed before the
Garthusians could do anything. “All Garthusian saucers destroyed, Captain.”
Picard eyed the four largest asteroids revert back to Garthusian sphereships. They were heading
towards the sun. “Ensign Merrek, lay in a course for the sun at warp one! Mr. Worf, inform the fleet of the
course!”
“Aye, sir,” Worf said.
“Yes, Captain,” Merrek responded.
The Enterprise and the other Federation starships warped to the sun in ten minutes, beating the
Garthusians by twenty minutes. The sun blazed on the main viewer, its light toned down by the Enterprise’s
computers.
“Why would they want to go to the sun?” Riker asked, a hint of anger in his voice.
“If they warp into the sun,” Data replied, “they will cause a supernova, destroying everything in the
system.”
“How many spheres will be needed to do that?” Troi asked.
“They need only one,” Picard said. “Mr. Worf, track the course of the spheres, and tell me if any
break away.”
“Aye, sir.” Worf bent over his console, then nodded. “Three spheres are indeed veering away.
They are engaging their warp drives.”
“Just as I thought,” Picard commented. “Now, what can we do about the kamikaze?”
“I don’t know for certain,” Data said. “However, while we were in the Vraris System, I detected
quite unusual energy frequencies before the dronium field was put in place. I believe that if we send the
Garthusians a communication on those frequencies-”
“They will generate dronium particles and they’ll be forced to stop,” Picard finished. “Make it so.”
Data brought up the frequencies on his Ops console, set up similar communication codings similar
to the ones he observed in the Vraris System, and transmitted to the Garthusian sphere. The Garthusian
sphere appeared to be unaffected. “I believe our attempt was unsuccessful.”
Picard scowled. “Mr. Worf-”
“They are engaging their warp drive!” Worf interrupted.
Picard jumped out of the command chair. “Mr. Data-”
Data broke in before Picard could finish. “Standby.” His fingers danced across the Ops console.
“The Garthusian sphere is imploding.”
“What?” Picard and Riker both muttered loudly. They both raced to the front of the bridge and
faced the main viewer. “Can we see it?” Picard asked.
“At a magnification factor of nine hundred ninety-five percent,” Data said. The Garthusian sphere
appeared on the main viewer. Blue-grey tendrils of energy were whipping across the dark gray hull.
Weapon arrays were exploding. Chunks of the carbon neutronium hull were thrown into space. Then,
finally, the ship imploded. The massive fireworks were impressive.
“How did that happen?” Riker asked, surprised.
“I don’t know,” Data said. “I transmitted the correct frequencies and codings.” He glanced at his
console. “A field of dronium particles is present at the spot where the Garthusian sphere exploded.”
“I don’t get it,” Riker said. “The only explanation is that dronium particles are fatal to their own
ships…”
“That is possible, Commander,” Data replied, “but highly unlikely. The most likely explanation is
that their emitter for the dronium particles was facing the inside of the sphere.”
“As a result, the dronium particles damaged the power generators or warp drive,” Worf said.
“But that doesn’t make any sense…” Riker said.
“Few things do, Number One,” Picard said. He returned to sit in the command chair. Riker did the
same with the first officer’s chair. “Mr. Worf, contact the Ariel.”
Captain Williams appeared on the screen. He had a puzzled expression on his face. “Captain
Picard, I don’t know what you did, but it worked.” He paused. “What did you do?”
“We sent them the signal to start producing dronium particles,” Picard answered. “The dronium
emitter was facing the inside of the ship, as far as we can tell.”
Williams grunted. “What’d you know. Well, do you think it will work again?”
Picard looked at Data. “Possibly,” Data said. “However, it is not likely.”
“When the Garthusians come to Feronium, the first thing we’ll do is send them that dronium
particle signal. It’s a shot, anyway.”
Picard nodded. “I will contact Admiral Jordan. Picard out.” He turned to Worf. “Make it so.”
Worf touched several buttons on his console. “Admiral Jordan on screen.”
Picard turned back towards the main viewer. Jordan’s featured were shown prominently on the
screen. “Admiral Jordan, we have prevented the Garthusians from taking Kamistara.”
Jordan smiled and gave a sigh of relief. “Well done, Captain. How’d you do it?”
“We sent them a signal to start producing dronium particles. It will all be in the report.”
Jordan nodded. “We will need that report as soon as possible. The Garthusians are fifteen hours
away from Feronium. Several nonstrategic outposts are located between Kimistara and Feronium; two
starships are assigned to defend them. Meanwhile, I managed to get twenty Federation starships to the
Feronium System; the Klingons are sending twenty as well. And, very surprisingly, the Romulans have
agreed to send five of their warbirds. Hardly significant, but it’s better than nothing.”
Picard was surprised as well. The Romulans had been causing problems for the Federation lately…
perhaps they had a change of mind? He frowned. “Admiral, regarding the Romulans-”
“I know what you’re thinking, Captain,” Jordan said, “but we’re going to need all the help we can
get. We can deal with the repurcussions later.” Jordan paused. “Your orders are to go to the Feronium
System as fast as you possibly can. Like I said, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Jordan out.”
The UFP symbol flashed, then the view returned to the Kimistara sun. Picard got out of the command chair.
He slapped on the intercom. “Engineering, damage report?”
“We’re in pretty good shape, sir,” Geordi said. “The damage is already repaired.”
“Good. Mr. La Forge, prepare for red line warp velocity till Feronium.”
There was a pause at the other end. “Done, sir. There might be a flicker in the lights and some
gravitic fluctuations, but we can do it.”
“Very well. Picard out.” He turned to Merrek. “Ensign Merrek, lay in a course for Feronium at
warp factor nine point two.”
“Aye, sir.”
Picard turned to Worf. “Order the other ships to do the same thing.”
“Done, Captain.”
Picard again faced the front of the bridge. “Engage.” The multicolored streaks covered the main
viewer. He then walked to the aft turbolift. “I’m calling off the alpha shift early. We will return to duty one
hour before we reach Feronium.”
Everyone began moving towards the turbolifts. Beta shift officers took their place. The only alpha
shift officer remaining was Worf, standing at the tactical console. Picard allowed himself a slight smile.
“You too, Worf.”
Worf protested. “Sir, I normally-”
“That’s an order, Lieutenant.”
Worf walked away from the console, resigned. Picard walked to the fore turbolift, which was
much less crowded. He entered the turbolift, which had only two people in it, and said, “Ten-Forward.”
The turbolift doors slid shut.

Data watched the action on his desktop monitor. What he was watching was part of the Star Wars
troligy, called The Empire Strikes Back. In this scene, Darth Vader had just severed Luke Skywalker’s right
hand– Luke was moaning in pain. Before the scene could finish, though, the door chime rang. “Pause,”
Data said. He walked into his quarter’s main area. “Come.”
Geordi La Forge entered. The doors slid shut behind him. “Hi, Data.” He paused. “What are you
doing?”
“I am watching the Star Wars movie The Empire Strikes Back. It is quite… intruiging.”
Geordi nodded. “I’ve seen the Star Wars trilogy; it was great. That’s not what I came for, though.
How are you holding up?”
Data walked into his desk area and sat down in his chair. Geordi followed him. “I am holding up
quite fine, Geordi.”
“That’s good to hear.” Geordi’s commbadge chirped. He slapped it. “La Forge here.”
“Commander La Forge?” a nervous voice asked. Data recognized it as Lieutenant Barclay’s.
“Yes, what is it, Reg?”
“Uh, sir, there are some power fluctuations in on deck ten. People have reported lights going out,
replicators not working, that sort of thing.”
“I’ll be down there right away. La Forge out.” Geordi rushed to the door. “Sorry.”
“It is all right.” Data walked to the door as well. “I will report to the bridge.” Geordi and Data
walked out the door.

Picard winced as the lighting in Ten-Forward came back on. The lighting had been off for five
munutes, and he was just getting used to the darkness. He slapped his commbadge. “Picard to Engineering.
What’s going on?”
“Power fluctuations specific to deck ten,” came Geordi’s reply. “The situation is under control.”
Picard frowned. “What caused the power fluctuations, Commander?”
“It was a failure of an EPS router on your deck,” Geordi answered. “It’s been completely burnt
out; it’s being replaced right now. In the meantime, deck ten is going to have to be evacuated.”
“All right. Have Lieutenant McKenzie begin an evacuation procedure for this deck. And, how
long is this going to take?”
“Two hours at most, Captain.”
“Then snap to it. Picard out.” Picard made his way to the exit doors of the lounge when Data’s
voice came over the intercom. Picard was surprised; the alpha shift was relieved. “All civilians and
personnel on deck ten, an evacuation procedure is currently in effect. You must go to another deck within a
ten minute time span commencing now. Data out.”
Picard exited Ten-Forward before everyone rushed out. He entered the turbolift. “Bridge.” The
turbolift began moving.
When the turbolift doors slid open, Picard rushed out. Commander Riker was standing next to
Data at the Operations station. Picard joined them. “Report.”
“The cause of the failure of the EPS router is unknown,” Data said nervously. “Commander La
Forge and an engineering team will begin replacing the router in five minutes.”
Picard nodded. “Very well. Staff meeting in five hours. I want to know what’s going on. Mr.
Data, keep on the look-out for any more power fluctations.”
“I already am, sir,” Data replied.
“Good.” Picard made his way for the aft turbolift. “Tell me if you find anything.”
“Yes, Captain,” Riker said.
Picard entered the turbolift.

Five hours later, Picard, Riker, Data, Worf, Geordi, Crusher, and Troi were gathered around the
observation lounge table. “All right,” Picard said. “Geordi, what caused the failure?”
Geordi shook his head. “We don’t really know, sir. It could have been caused by damage from the
battle, I don’t know.”
“If it was battle damage, why didn’t we detect the problem before?” Riker asked.
“They might have hidden it some way,” Worf suggested. “Their capabilities are still largely
unknown to us.”
Picard looked at Data and Geordi. “If they did mask this damage somehow, I want you to find out
how they did it, and find out ways to avoid damage being masked again.”
“We’ll try, Captain,” Data said.
Picard turned to Troi. “What did you sense from them?”
Troi sat there for a long time, thinking hard. She had an unpleasant expression on her face. “The
impressions are still unclear…” she said uncertainly. “I think they had some sort of telepathic/empathic
shield in place…” She paused. “I got vague feelings of confidence and resentment…” She shut her eyes and
got a pained expression on her face.
Riker got a concerned expression on his face. “Are you all right, Deanna?”
Troi nodded. “I’m fine. I was just thinking. I can’t remember anything more than that.”
Worf leaned forward. “There are telepathy-blockers in existence; however, they are only on the
black market.”
“They can cause extensive brain damage to the telepath,” Crusher added. “They are a relatively
new technology; they debuted three years ago.”
“They are, as of yet, illegal in the Federation and the Klingon Empire,” Worf said.
“They must have been developed in the Garthusian Empire,” Picard noted, “or they simply don’t
care.”
“I would like permission to examine Deanna,” Crusher said.
“Agreed.” Picard paused for a moment. “Didn’t you tell me, Counselor, that you’d tell me if you
sensed anything?”
“I wasn’t sure, Captain… I had to try to distinguish between the feelings of the Enterprise crew and
the other starships, and then the Garthusians… I just didn’t know who I was sensing those feelings from.”
Picard nodded. “I’m sorry, Counselor.”
“That’s all right, Captain.”
Picard looked around the table. “All right. Now, you all have your assignments. Dismissed.”

Captain Williams glanced around the bridge. The bridge crew were all nervous. His first officer
was drumming his fingers on his console that protruted from the left armrest of the first officer’s chair. The
conn officer, an Andorian, was twitching her antennae nervously. Williams was also nervous, but tried his
best not to show it.
“It’s going to be another Wolf 359,” the first officer said.
“Don’t be so negative, Commander,” Williams replied. “Two of their vessels have been destroyed
so far.”
The commander sighed nervously. “But what if they just change their codes? Then Data’s trick
would be useless.”
“What if they do?” Williams asked rhetorically. “Then we’ll just have to find another way. The
best thing to do is not worry about it.”
The XO nodded. “All right, sir.”
Williams turned his attention to the main viewer. The multicolored streaks were passing by at an
amazing rate. He got out of the command chair, and walked to the front of the bridge. “Lieutenant
Narosie?”
The Andorian turned her attention away from her panel and faced the captain. “Yes, sir?”
“I want you to-”
“Captain!” Lieutenant Commander Black at tactical said. “Sensors are detecting vessel one light-
year away!”
“Yellow alert,” Williams said as the chimes rang. He sat in the command chair. “Identification?”
Black concentrated on her tactical console. “Not as of yet, sir. It is not transmitting Federation
codes.”
“Hail it,” Williams ordered.
Black nodded. She punched a button on the tactical console. “They’re on speakers.”
“This is Captain Williams of the Federation Starship Ariel. State your intentions.”
“TO KILL YOU.”
Williams understood immediately, as did the rest of the bridge. It was a Garthusian ship. “Red
alert, battlestations.”
Sirens howled as crew rushed into their positions. The sound of shields and weapons charging rang
throughout the ship. “Garthusian vessel, you will not succeed-”
“They have cut the transmission, sir,” Black reported.
Williams slammed the right armrest. “Notify the rest of the fleet.”
“They already know what’s going on, sir,” the XO said.
“Then, bring the ship about on a course of coordinates nine mark eight, bearing seven mark seven,
full impulse, engage.”
The multicolored streaks were replaced by normal space as the Ariel swerved to meet the
upcoming threat. The Garthusian ship was a dot in the distance.
“Magnify by a factor of one thousand.”
The Garthusian dot became a huge sphere. There were hot pink circles all over the dark gray
sphere. The sphere was rapidly getting larger.
“One minute till intercept,” Norosie said.
“Lock two torpedoes onto their hull and fire,” Williams said.
“They are ineffective-” Black began.
“Just do it, Comamander.”
Black swallowed. “Yes, sir.” She punched several buttons on her panel. “Torpedoes away.”
Williams watched as the red dots smashed harmlessly against the carbon neutronium hull.
Something came over the speakers.
“YOU INSULT US WITH SUCH WEAPONS, CAPTAIN,” the oppressive Garthusian voice said.
It sounded like a low rumble. “YOU ARE FOOLISH TO THINK THEY WOULD BE EFFECTIVE
AGAINST US. NOW, PREPARE TO DIE.” The channel was cut.
Williams sat still for a few moments. He had only one idea. “Let’s try to make them produce
dronium again. Commander Black?”
“Commander Data on the Enterprise is already trying, sir,” Black reported. “So far, no effect on
the Garthusian sphere.”
“Keep me advised,” Williams said. “Narosie, ETA?”
“Thirty seconds, sir.” Her voice was tense with fear.
Williams looked at the main viewer. The whole Garthusian ship wasn’t even visible at this setting
anymore. “Restore to standard magnification.”
The whole Garthusian sphere became visible again. It was still quite large.
“They are entering phaser range,” Black said.
“Evasive maneuvers,” Williams ordered. “Miss Black, fire all phasers at full power.”
“Yes, sir,” Black said in a resigned tone. “Firing all phasers.”
Nine red streaks collided with the hull of the Garthusian sphere. Again, no visible damage.
“Commander Data on the Enterprise has ceased trying to make the Garthusians produce dronium
particles,” XO reported.
Williams sighed. Then, several hot pink streaks lanced out from the Garthusian weapon arrays.
The Ariel rocked under the impacts.
“Shields are at ninety percent!” Black reported. “Minor damage to all decks.”
Williams considered the situation. It seemed the fleet had a pretty hopeless cause. Unless…
“Commander, was their any damage to the Garthusian sphere? Even at the molecular level?”
Black punched several buttons on her console and examined the results. “There were some
indications of damage to the structural integrity. Nothing significant, though.”
Williams thought about that. “Lock all weapons onto that spot we fired at, and put them on full
power. Inform the other ships to do the same.”
Black got a concerned look on her face, but nonetheless complied. “Aye, Captain.” She punched
several buttons furiously. “Executed, sir.”
Williams looked at the Garthusian sphere on the viewscreen. The Ariel still rocked from continued
disruptor blasts. “Fire!”
Numerous red beams and dots slammed against the Garthusian sphere. At first, no damage was
apparent. But then, Williams could barely see a hole opening up in the hull. “What’s beyond that hole?”
The Ops officer, Lieutenant Viers, scanned beyond the hole. “It seems to be a series of power
conduits.”
Williams nodded. “Commander Black, you focus on firing inside that hole. Tell all the other ships
to maintain their firing patterns.”
“Yes, sir.” Some of the red beams and dots went into the hole that was getting larger every
second. Williams could see power conduits being ruptured by their weapons, spilling electric blue energy
into space. It was quite a sight.
“Status of the Garthusian vessel,” Williams demanded.
“They are no longer firing, sir,” Viers reported.
“We are being hailed,” Black said.
“I’ll just bet we are,” Williams commented. “Keep on firing, but answer their hail.”
A hideous alien appeared on the main viewer. Its skin was gray; it has an elongated heard with
huge black eyeballs, with thin slits for a nose and a mouth; it had no hair. “CAPTAIN WILLIAMS, YOU
HAVE FOUGHT WELL TODAY. I COMMEND YOU. YOU WILL DIE WITH HONOR.”
Williams scoffed. “I have no intention of dying, Garthusian. Now, retreat from Federation space,
or we will destroy you.”
The Garthusian made scraping sounds which Williams guessed was the equilavent of laughing.
“YOU CANNOT DESTROY US. NOW, WE HOPE YOU WILL DIE WITH DIGNITY.” The main
viewer returned to the space battle.
“I can’t believe the nerve of the Garthusians,” the XO said with disbelief.
“That’s not our chief problem right now, Commander McGrady,” Williams replied. “Damage to
the Garthusians?”
“Massive power fluctuations,” Viers said. “Two weapon arrays have blown apart. Pieces of their
carbon neutronium hull have blown away as well.”
Williams smiled a little. “Keep it up-”
“Captain!” McGrady shouted in shock. “The Aristide is going to ram the Garthusians!”
Williams looked at the main viewer in shock. “On screen.” The view changed to show an
Ambassador-class starship on a suicide course. He could see the warp nacellles lighting up. “Get us out of
here!”
Narosie didn’t bother replying. She punched the commands into the conn, and the Ariel veered in
the opposite direction. The warp drive kicked in, and multicolored streaks began sliding by. Then, they
stopped.
“Status of the Garthusian sphere?” Williams asked.
“It’s gone,” Black said. “Along with the Aristide.”
Williams slammed the left armrest. “Hail Captain Picard.”

Captain Williams’ stern features appeared on the main viewer. He didn’t look to happy. “I wonder
why they attacked us?”
Picard shook his head. “We don’t know why.” He turned to Worf. “Status of the two remaining
Garthusian spheres?”
Worf checked the tactical console. “Five hours away from Feronium.”
Picard turned to Data. “Our ETA?”
“Seven hours.”
Picard looked at Williams with apprehension. “That’s why they attacked us. They wanted to delay
us. The question is why.”
“Well, the important thing is, we know how to beat them now.”
Picard nodded. “Mr. Worf, communicate our battle report to Admiral Jordan.”
“Aye, sir.”
Williams looked at Picard warily. “Do you think that they might adapt?”
“It might be our only shot left,” Picard said. “How long do you think repairs on the Ariel will
take?”
Williams looked at a point somewhere out of the visual pickups. “Half an hour.”
Picard sat down in the command chair and activated the intercom. “Engineering, how long will
repairs take?”
“Forty five minutes, sir,” Geordi’s voice came back.
“Snap to it, Commander. Bridge out.” Picard looked up at the main viewer. “Anything else,
Captain Williams?”
Williams shook his head. “No, Captain. Ariel out.” The viewer image shifted to a view of the
Ariel.
“Alpha shift will be relieved as soon as we are underway for Feronium,” Picard declared. “I will be
down in Main Engineering. Commander Data, you’re with me.”
Picard and Data strode for the aft turbolift. Riker stood up and took the command chair, then he
turned around to face the captain. “What are you going to do?”
“You’ll see, Number One,” Picard said. Data and Picard entered the turbolift.

Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge looked at the status display. The antimatter containment
field was still showing dangerous fluctuations, and he couldn’t figure out why. He had Reg run a level three
diagnostic on the plasma coils.
“Ah ha!” Barclay exclaimed. “We’ve found it!”
Geordi looked over Reg’s shoulder. The console showed a minor malfunction in the magnetic field
of the plasma coils. Such a malfunction could prove deadly, though. It had to be handled with caution.
“Don’t get too excited, Lieutenant. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
Lieutenant Reginald Barclay looked down at the console. “I agree, sir.”
Geordi turned around, just in time to see Captain Picard and Data walk in his office. He turned his
whole body around to face the captain. “May I do something for you, sir?”
Picard looked around Main Engineering thoughtfully. “I want to go over every sensor record we
have of Garthusian vessels. It might be important.”
“We can check the master systems display,” Data said, pointing at the huge table in the middle of
Main Engineering.
“All right,” Picard replied.
“I don’t see the point, though, sir,” Data said. “Everything we know about the Garthusians is in my
memory. Consulting the sensor logs is illogical.”
Picard raised an eyebrow. “An emotional android talking about logic… if you say so.”
Data got a puzzled expression on his face. “I don’t see the relevance of having emotions and being
an android, sir.”
Picard waved him off. “Never mind. Let’s get to work.”
Data seemed unnerved as he accompanied the captain to the master systems display.
Geordi focused on the task at hand: repairing the plasma coils. He waved Barclay out of the way
of the console, and checked on the precise nature of the magnetic field problem. It showed him that the field
was slightly out of shape, and that the plasma couldn’t flow correctly. “All right, Mr. Barclay, let’s get to
work.”

CHAPTER NINE

Captain’s long, stardate 44215.7. The Enterprise and the rest of the fleet are one hour away from
Feronium. I have reviewed all we know of the Garthusian civilization… and I must admit, the situation
does look grim… I am hopeful that the Federation will survive this threat, however. There are just two
Garthusian spheres remaining in Federation space.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard looked at the tactical display on the tactical console. The combined fleet
of Federation, Klingon, and Romulan ships was being deployed in a standard hit-them-hard formation…
quite similar to the one used at Wolf 359. Picard wondered if that would work.
“It’s the best one we’ve got,” Riker said. “The Borg won because they had your knowledge and
experience-” He paused when Picard got a haunted expression on his face. “My point is, the Garthusians
are not the Borg.”
Picard studied the display again. The tactic did look sound. “Very well, Number One… make it
so.”
Riker nodded. He walked to the front of the bridge. “Ensign Crusher?”
The young field officer looked up at the XO eagerly. “Yes, Commander?”
“Call up the plans to the battle tactic,” Riker said, “then move us into position delta.”
Crusher tapped several commands into the conn and looked at the display. He then layed in his
course. “Speed, sir?”
“Keep us at the red line,” Picard ordered as he took the command chair. “ETA, Mr. Data?”
“Fifteen minutes at warp nine point two,” Data responded.
“All right.” Picard looked at the main viewer. “Hail Admiral Jordan.”
Admiral Jordan appeared on the screen. She looked tired. “Captain Picard, current status?”
Picard paused for a moment. “Fifteen minutes away from Feronium. We will take position delta.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Jordan replied. “My flagship will be the Legacy. It will assume position
alpha. George Washington will take the beta.”
Picard nodded. “God’s speed, Admiral. Picard out.”
For the next fourteen minutes, Picard sat there in the command chair, while the crew throughout
the ship were rushing around, preparing the Enterprise for the explosive battle that was sure to come. All
Picard could do was sit and wait.
“One minute from position delta,” Data announced.
“Slow us to full impulse,” Picard ordered. “Red alert, all hands to battlestations.”
Klaxons howled as the crew raced to their stations. Picard waited for a moment. “Overstaff the
bridge, Number One.” He wanted to prepare for everything he possibly could.
“Aye, sir.” Riker rapidly began inputting instructions into his console. Moments later, fifteen
officers strode out of the turbolifts.
“Position delta,” Data reported.
“All stop,” Picard said. “Now, put the Garthusian spheres on the screen.”
The Garthusian spheres appeared on the main viewer. They were already in a monstrous battle
with the rest of the fleet. Hot pink disruptor blasts and red hot phaser bursts were everywhere on the
screen. It was dizzying just to look at it.
“Not as bad as we predicted,” Riker commented.
After Riker said that, two Klingon attack cruisers imploded. Their debris slammed into nearby
Federation starships, which the Garthusians began to pick off one by one.
“Lock all weapons onto the Garthusians, and fire at will!” Picard cried angrily.
“Yes, sir.” Worf proceeded to punch forcefully at his tactical console. Phaser beams and photon
torpedoes blasted from Enterprise and crashed against both of the Garthusian spheres’ hulls.
“Their hulls are showing a decrease in structural integrity,” Data said. “However, the percent of
decay is not as great as before.”
“They must have adapted somehow,” Troi spoke up.
“There is still damage being done,” Picard said. “As long as that is so, we will continue with this
course of action.”
Three Romulan warbirds decloaked in the Enterprise’s line of fire. They took heavy damage from
the barrage.
“Stop firing!” Picard said in a fury. “Hail them now!”
“No response!” Worf called back.
“Open a channel!”
The Romulans began opening fire on the Enterprise as Picard spoke. “This is Captain Picard of the
Federation Starship Enterprise. State the meaning of this!”
No response. The ship rocked, throwing everyone on the bridge onto the deck.
“Return fire!” Picard barked as he climbed back into his command chair.
“Aye, sir!” Worf punched at his console in anger, and red phaser beams and photon torpedoes
smashed against the Romulan traitors. Four Klingon attack cruisers then decloaked right beside the
Romulan warbirds, and let loose a fury of disruptor blasts and torpedoes at the Romulans. One warbird
imploded after a few moments of the heavy fire.
“Damage report!” Picard called out as the ship rocked with another disruptor blasts from the
Romulans.
“Shields are at seventy percent!” Data called out, letting Worf concentrate on firing. “Damage on
all decks, repair crews responding!”
Another Romulan warbird imploded, leaving just one Romulan ship left. Worf picked it off with
four torpedoes. “Romulan warbirds destroyed, sir. The Klingon attack cruisers Pit’Hag, ChuJee, Lakroge,
and Conqueror send their compliments.”
“Status of the fleet?” Picard asked.
“Twenty-two Federation starships remain; eight Klingon attack cruisers remain,” Worf reported.
“Begin firing all weapons at the Garthusians again,” Picard said.
“Aye, sir.”
Picard looked on as red beams and dots from the Enterprise collided with the Garthusian spheres.
They were almost indistinguishable from the rest of the fire. Then, the Garthusian spheres began heading
towards the ship.
“Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Crusher!” Picard said. “Transfer auxiliary power to the shields.”
The stars and ships on the main viewer began shifting around rapidly when the impacts began. The
Garthusian disruptors seemed to be non-stop.
“Shields at fifty-three percent!” Data reported. Then the Ops console exploded, throwing Data to
the deck.
“Data!” Troi screamed.
Riker rushed to Data’s side. He examined Data’s condition carefully, then looked back at the
captain. With tears in his eyes, he shook his head.
“Damn!” Picard exclaimed and slammed both armrests in pure anger. “Mr. Worf, make them pay!”
Riker scrambled back to his seat as the barrage continued. Another officer took Ops.
“Damage report!” Picard barked.
“Shields are thirty-six percent!” the new Ops officer, Lieutenant McKenzie, said. “Heavy
casualties,” she said sadly, looking down at Data’s body.
“One sphere imploding!” Worf said.
Picard punched on the intercom. “Engineering, transfer all power to the shields!”
“Trying, sir!” came Geordi’s voice. There was a huge explosion over the speakers, then nothing.
“Sheilds are being increased!” Worf said. “Fifty percent, fifty-five, sixty… seventy-five percent!”
The lights suddenly all went out. The consoles went black. Picard stared around the bridge. He
tapped his commbadge. “Picard to Engineering,” he said quietly. No response came.
“He must have transferred all power all right,” Riker said. “Bridge crew, brace for impact!”
The crew rushed to do what they were told. Then, a massive quake rocked the ship. Everyone on
the bridge was thrown hard onto the deck. The shaking increased. A bulkhead collapsed, revealing the
circuitry underneath and smashing a person to death. Since the life-support system was off-line, breathing
was difficult.
The shaking stopped. Picard scrambled to his feet, and scrambled to the command chair. Everyone
else did the same for their own respective stations. A minute later, the power came back on. The consoles
began flashing warnings, and the lighting was dull at best. Better than nothing, though.
“We have emergency power only,” McKenzie said.
“The majority of the fleet, as well as the remaining Garthusian sphere, has been damaged by the
shock wave,” Worf reported.
“Damage report,” Riker demanded.
“Shields are at ten percent,” Worf said. “Weapons are off-line. Life-support is barely functional.
Propulsion systems are off-line as well.” Worf checked his console again. “The fleet is resuming fire.”
Picard watched the fury on the main viewer. “We’ll have to be towed out.”
“Don’t count on that anytime soon,” Riker said.
“Captain,” Worf said, “the remaining Garthusian sphere is imploding.”
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.”

Jason Vines, 1997.
https://members.aol.com/dbald56576/trek.html
Star Trek: The Next Generation is the property of Paramount Pictures.

44

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New Horizons

lauren35@juno.com

<Paris/Torres> Three weeks after ‘Blood Fever’, B’Elanna recieves some
very unexpected news.

Notes: PLEASE READ! This story takes place three weeks after Blood Fever.
One twist, though. Vorick never came at the end of BF. So, Tommy and
Bella did, you know, yeah. Here’s the story!
Oh, yeah, you Parisites may notice a few familiar names in this story and
some coming up. Those familiar names will be yours!

NEW HORIZONS
By: Lauren Taylor

Damn Vorick. He was the cause of all of this nonsense. Ever since
all that happened three weeks ago, B’Elanna hadn’t spoken to Tom. She
even switched around the duty roster so that she had the night shift, the
exact opposite of Tom’s.
She was on duty, at about two in the morning. Her stomach was
doing somersaults as she tried to work. It was beginning to get hard to
concentrate, but she didn’t want to miss work just for her little
stomachache. Finally, it was getting to hard to just ignore.
“Walsvik!” she called the young woman working near her.
“What is it, chief?” Walsvik asked.
“Look, I’m not feeling too well, I’m gonna go to sickbay. You’re in
charge for now.” she explained.
************************************************
B’Elanna walked slowly into sickbay. The pains had gotten even
worse on her way to deck six, and now she was barely able to stand up.
Kes was sitting in the office, and the EMH was nowhere to be
seen. Kes looked up from the padds spread out all over the desk, and
walked out to B’Elanna.
“B’Elanna, is something wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“I don’t know. I’ve felt nauseous all day.”
“Lay down on the bed while I get my tricorder.” Kes told her.
Kes walked back over, and began running a tricorder over
B’Elanna’s body while she asked questions.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“About two days ago, I had some lunch. I haven’t felt like eating
lately.” B’Elanna told her quietly.
Kes stared at the tricorder for a moment, amazed.
“What? What is it?” B’Elanna sat up.
“B’Elanna, you’re…you’re pregnant. Three weeks.” Kes told her.
“Tom” she whispered to herself as she layed back down.
“Would you like me to call him in here?” Kes asked.
“No, that’s alright. I’d better tell him myself.” she said, still more to
herself. She sat up, and slowly got off the bed. Kes ran across sickbay,
and grabbed a hypospray.
“Wait, before you leave, let me give you this. It should help the nausea.
And try to eat something. I’m putting you on sick leave for the next two
days also.” Kes told her.
*****************************************************
B’Elanna leaned up against the wall outside Tom’s quarters. God,
this was hard. She hadn’t spoken to the man in three weeks, and now she
had to tell him that she was having his child. She took a few deep
breaths, and pressed the bell.
Inside, Tom straggled out of bed, and threw on a bathrobe. He
walked blindly to the door, wondering who could be coming to him at this
hour.
“B’Elanna?” Tom asked, still half-asleep when he saw her on the other
side of the door.
“Tom. I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll come back tomorrow.” she said quietly,
seeming to be on the verge of tears. She turned to walk away, but Tom
grabbed her by the arm.
“B’Elanna, whatever’s going on with you seems important. You need to
talk. Come on in.” he told her, concern filling his tired voice.
He walked her into his quarters, and sat her on the couch. He
walked over to the replicator to get something to wake him up, because he
could tell that this would be a long night.
“B’Elanna, do you want a drink or anything?” he asked.
“No thanks. Tom, I have something to tell you.” she told him.
Tom replicated himself a cup of coffee, and walked back over to
her. He sat down beside her, and placed his arm around her shoulder.
“Now, what’s all this about?” he asked.
She relaxed more, now that he was so caring with her, and she laid down
in his lap and looked up at him.
“Tom, I’m pregnant.” she managed to say. He stared down at her, almost
not sure if he understood her.
“Three weeks.” she explained to him.
“Oh, god.” he whispered to himself, looking to his ceiling. “When did you
find this out?” he asked.
“Just a few minutes ago, I was in sickbay. Kes told me.” she told him,
quietly. Her voice sounded tired and groggy, which Tom didn’t think was
that unusual. He leaned down to her and brushed the hair out from her
face. He then stood up slowly, and let her head rest down on the couch.
“Here, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. Why don’t you get some sleep?
We’ll talk about this in the morning.” he whispered to her.
He walked into his bedroom and grabbed a blanket and pillow from
his own bed, and placed them on the couch for her. As he walked back into
his room, he turned to look at her. This was all so strange for him. A
month ago, he would have killed to have B’Elanna spend the night in his
quarters. Now, he wasn’t sure what to think about it. The one thought
that kept racing through his mind was the fact that he was going to be a
father. What he’d wanted his whole life. What bothered him was that he
was becoming a father by accident, because of some chemical imbalance,
and not because of love.
“Tom.” B’Elanna called out from under the blanket.
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry. For everything.” she said.
“Hold it!” he yelled, and walked over to her. He kneeled down on the
floor, so that he was at her eye level. “B’Elanna, you’ve got nothing to
apologize for. None of this was your fault. This wasn’t anyone’s fault.
It just happened, that’s all. And I want you to promise me that you’ll
never forget that.”
***************************************************
“Captain, could we speak with you in your ready room?” B’Elanna asked
when her and Tom walked onto the bridge the next morning.
“Of course.” Janeway answered, worried for what this news could be.
B’Elanna seemed very shaken up, and Tom did too.
***************************************************
“Pregnant?” the captain asked, not sure if she’d heard them right.
“That’s right, pregnant. Three weeks.” Tom told her. The captain stared
at them, speechless. This was surely not what she expected to hear from
them. Janeway was amazed, though, at how this had changed their
relationship 360 degrees. One day ago, B’Elanna and Tom felt completly
uncomfortable being in the same room as each other, and now, B’Elanna
didn’t seem to want to be apart from him. The news was obviously hitting
her hard.
“Tom, you can take the helm now. I’d like to speak with B’Elanna for
awhile.” the captain told them. As Tom stood up, B’Elanna grabbed his
hand, not wanting him to leave. He leaned down and whispered something to
her, something along the lines of “I’ll see you when I’m done. Just get
some rest.” and then walked out.
“B’Elanna, how are you doing?” Janeway asked her.
“I’m not exactly sure, captain. I mean, I’m going to be a mother, but I’m
not sure if I want to be one. I never saw myself as the mother type. This
has all come as a pretty big shock to me.” B’Elanna explained, still
acting the way that she’d been hours before in Tom’s quarters.
“I’m going to put you on a light duty schedule until the baby’s born. I
took a Klingon physiology class, so I know how this will be. I want you
to get some rest. Dismissed.” the captain told her.
B’Elanna stood up, and turned to leave.
“And, B’Elanna?” the captain called out after her.
“Yes, captain?”
“You’ll make a great mother.” Janeway smiled.
**************************************************************
Three months later, it had been confirmed. B’Elanna was going to
have a daughter. Her and Tom were thrilled with the news. She knew all
along that Tom had wanted a girl, and was happy that he’d gotten his
wish. Her and Tom’s relationship had changed drastically over the past
few months. He’d quit with the flirting, because he knew how emotional
she’d become since the pregnancy, and would most likely kill him if he
made one more wry comment to her. Their relationship had turned to more
of a deep friendship, but no love, not yet at least.
She’d become excited about having a child. It was that one
comment that the captain had made to her, about being a great mother,
that had raised her confidence drastically. She was now looking forward
to having a baby, looking forward to it more than anything. Now, she
needed to pick a name out for her daughter. Daughter. Those words
repeated themselves in her head. She was going to be a mother. It was
hard to believe. Everyone had been shocked when they heard the news.
B’Elanna laughed everytime she remembered Harry’s reaction. He’d found
out by accident, mistakingly overhearing a conversation between her and
Tom. Tom. Where was he? He should have been here by now, to help decide
on a name.

*There he is, and only ten minutes late!* she thought to herself as she
got up and opened the door.
“Sorry I’m late. I’ve got a few good suggestions for names, though.” he
grinned.
“Great, sit down.” she grinned back.
**********************************************************
“So, it’s settled. Serena Kirsten Torres.” B’Elanna announced. That was
the name they’d decided on after two hours of bickering, plus a dinner
break where Harry and Kes also gave their ideas. Serena was actually
Harry’s idea, it was the name of a friend of his back home. Tom had
suggested Kirsten, after his favorite aunt.
**********************************************************
Three months until Serena was due, and B’Elanna couldn’t wait.
She had already stopped working, due to the fact that she got back pains
so much, she could barely walk. Today, she didn’t even want to leave her
quarters.
“Torres to Paris.” she hit her comm badge as she fell back onto her
couch.
“Paris here. Where are you?” he asked, worried.
*Oh, I forgot!* she yelled to herself *I was supposed to meet Tom for
lunch ten minutes ago!*
“In my quarters. I’m not exactly up for going anywhere today. My back’s
really hurting. I wouldn’t mind one of your famous back massages,
though.” she told him mischeiviously.
********************************************************
“Thank you so much for coming.” she told him as he rubbed her back.
“Hey, anything for my daughter.” he said.
*And anything for the woman I love* he added, just to himself.
*Tom, it’s time to say how you feel. She’s having your baby for
chrissakes* he argued with himself.
“B’Elanna?” he started.
“What is it?”
“What’s it going to be like? When Serena’s born, and her parents are just
friends?” he asked, hesitantly.
“She’ll be fine. Lot’s of kids are raised by only one parent. Like me.”
she explained.
“But, B’Elanna, do you ever? I mean, do you think there could be more to
us than just friends?” he asked.
“Tom, we’ve been over this. You’re a great friend, and I trust you more
than anything. I just…don’t see anything romantic between us.” she
tried to say.
“B’Elanna, how can you not? You and I are going to have a baby, don’t you
think that’s enough romance?” he yelled.
“No, Tom, I don’t. It’s just an accident about this whole baby thing.”
“Do you want this kid to grow up with her parents being just friends and
being just some accident? I really think that you and I should consider
some romance and possibly get married.” he screamed to her. There, he’d
said it. But why did he feel so horrible?
“No, Tom!” she looked him straight in the face,”But I don’t want my
daughter growing up with parents who aren’t in love, either.”
“But, B’Elanna, we love each other, right?” he asked, scared.
“I’m sorry, Tom.” she said in a hoarse whisper.
Tom gave her one last look, and walked out. B’Elanna sank down to the
couch as the tears began flowing.
********************************************************
Harry threw the duffel bag over his shoulder, and strode out of
his quarters. He was moving in with B’Elanna for however long it was
until the baby came. She was worried that the baby would come during the
night, and wanted someone there if that occured, and Harry was her
closest friend at this point. He hadn’t told Tom about staying in her
quarter’s yet, and hoped he wouldn’t have to. Ever since Tom and B’Elanna
had that fight three months ago about god knows what, they hadn’t spoken,
except to yell at each other, and Harry was caught in the middle. He was
always having to chose between the both of them, and hated when the two
of them were in the same room together, because of the shouting matches
they would have. He refused to take sides in this stupid arguement, not
wanting to lose either of them as friends, but was worried that this
might get Tom a bit mad at him.
“Harry!” Tom called out from behind the young ensign.
Harry sighed, and turned around to see his friend coming towards him,
with a confused look on his face.
“What’s with the bag?” he asked Harry.
“Oh, nothing.” Harry brushed it off, as he realized that they were
standing in front of B’Elanna’s quarters.
“Why are we stopping here?” Tom asked cautiously.
“I’m moving in with B’Elanna. Just until the baby comes.” Harry told his
friend. Tom sighed, and looked down at the ground as Harry pressed the
door chime. The doors whooshed open, and Harry stepped in.
“B’Elanna?” he called out, unaware that Tom had followed him in.
“In here. I’ll be out in a second.” she answered from her bedroom.
Harry threw his bag down on the couch, and noticed Tom’s reflection in
the window.
“Tom, she’s not going to like this.” he explained.
“I don’t care. You’re staying here now, and I’m here to see you.” Tom
said glumly.
B’Elanna stepped out from her bedroom, and grinned at Harry. She then
noticed Tom standing right beside him.
“What’s he doing here?” she asked Harry, angrily.
“He followed me in.” Harry shrugged.
B’Elanna glared at Tom, and then looked back at Harry.
“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the couch. And thanks so much for
doing this. You’ve got no idea how much this means to me. Now, I hate to
leave so soon, but I’ve got a sickbay appointment. You can come if you
want to.” she told him as she turned around to leave.
“Might as well come.” he said, as he walked over beside her. He turned
back to Tom, and gave him a look that basically said ‘You’d better
leave.’
“You don’t have to ignore me, B’Elanna.” Tom called out.
She turned around, and scowled at him.
“Tom, I don’t have time for this. I’m tired, I just want to get this
check-up over with, and come back here to sleep. Now, would you please
leave my quarters before I call security?” she said to him, getting more
angry with each word.
Harry stared at the two of them, annoyed at the way his friends were
acting. Neither of them probably even remembered what their fight was
about, and now they were going to sit here and have another arguement
about nothing.
“Will you two quit this fighting?” Harry yelled. Tom and B’Elanna stared
at him, all shouting aside. It wasn’t like Harry to get into their fight
like this. He usually just ignored it.
“This has been going on for three months now! I doubt either of you even
remember what this fight was even about! You two-”
“I remember what it was about!” B’Elanna cut him off, “Tom just wanted
romance out of me, and he even proposed to me!”
Harry looked at them, and sighed.
“Who cares? You two had something, something special. And now you’re just
going to throw it away because of some little arguement three months ago?
I don’t care if you guys never work this out anymore, just as long as
you’re civil around each other, and not threatening to call security on
each other.” Harry pleaded to them, glaring at B’Elanna on the last line.

“Fine.” B’Elanna said cooly.
“Alright. We won’t scream at each other anymore. Now you guys can go to
the appointment.” Tom told them, and walked out of her quarters.
*********************************************************
B’Elanna was sitting in the mess hall, alone. It had been three days
since Harry had moved in, and things were working out great. She was
afraid that the two of them would start arguing, after being together so
much, but that hadn’t happened. Her and Harry were getting along great,
better than she’d imagined. He helped her through everything, and didn’t
mind the sleepless night last night, or having to get up and get her some
food in the middle of the night, even when he had to go to the mess to
get it. Now, Harry was on duty, and B’Elanna was getting some lunch in
the mess hall. She was having lunch at an odd hour, though, so she was
the only one there. Neelix may have been in the kitchen, but she wasn’t
sure. She started to take a sip of her tea, when a jolt rocked the ship,
and almost threw her out of her seat.
“Red alert. All hands to battle stations.” the captain’s voice rang out.
>From the kitchen, she heard crashing, and then saw Tom run out.
“Paris to transporter room. Beam Neelix directly to sickbay!” he ordered,
completely ignoring B’Elanna.
“Transporter’s are off-line.” the officer told him. Tom ran to the door,
and realized that it didn’t open when he ran straight into it. B’Elanna
stood up, realizing that she may actually have to get along with Tom this
time, or else.
“What happened to Neelix?” she asked. Tom turned around, and noticed her.
He ignored all harsh feelings he had for her, and told her that some
shelves had fallen on him when the ship got hit.
B’Elanna felt a sharp pain in her stomach, and sat down abruptly.
“Is something wrong?” he ran to her side.
“No, I just need to rest. We can’t get out of here, can we?” she asked,
too afraid she knew the answer.
“Not unless you want to use the Jeffries Tubes, which I’m not going to
let you do.”
Concern. Tom was showing concern for her. It was like they hadn’t ever
had an arguement. She knew that this behaivior was just because he was
paniced, though. Another pain shot through her again, this time much
worse.
“Tom. I think Ser-Ow!” she yelled, and fell to the floor with the last
pain. Tom ran to her side, and helped her sit up.
“What are you trying to say? Serena’s coming now?” he asked, scared.
B’Elanna only nodded, and flinched at the pain still lingering in her
stomach.
“Paris to sickbay.” he hit his comm badge.
“Sickbay here. What is it, lieutenant? We’re rather busy here at the
moment.” the doctor answered.
“I’m in the mess hall. B’Elanna’s in labor.” Tom told the doc.
“Bring her down here.”
“It’s not exactly that simple.”
*********************************************************
The sounds of a baby crying echoed throughout the almost-empty mess hall.
Tom took off his jacket, and wrapped Serena in it. B’Elanna layed back,
breathing a sigh of relief. Tom walked over to B’Elanna, and handed her
the baby, tears streaming down his face. B’Elanna sat up, and looked at
Tom with a smile, tears streaming down her face, too. The proud parents
looked down on their tiny daughter, not saying a word, too happy to say
anything.
“Tom?” B’Elanna said through her tears.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
“I’m sorry. For everything.” she apologized, echoing the words she’d
spoken to him nine months ago.
“Truce?” he asked with a grin on his face.
“Truce.” she smiled back.
“Paris to the bridge.” he stood up and hit his comm badge.
“Tom!” the captain exclaimed, obviously having worried about him during
the attack, “Where are you?”
“I’m in the mess hall with B’Elanna and my daughter.” he laughed.
“B’Elanna, how are you doing?” the captain asked.
“I’m doing fine. So is Serena Kirsten Paris.”
“Paris?” Tom asked, confused.
“Yes, Paris. And, Tom?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“I will marry you.” she grinned. Serena cried when she said that, and the
two parents laughed.
“It’s alright, sweetie. He isn’t that bad of a guy!” B’Elanna giggled.
“Guess this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship for you and me,
huh?” he asked.
“Guess so.” she smiled.

THE END

Paramount owns all characters, except Serena Kirsten Paris. Serena and
Kirsten own those names, tee hee 🙂

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Love Spell: Part Two

From lauren35@juno.com Sun Apr 27 17:25:17 1997
Date: Mon, 07 Apr 1997 23:29:18 EDT
From: Lauren E Taylor <lauren35@juno.com>
To: bobc@edgar.k12.wi.us, Eraalpert@aol.com, SCarterH@aol.com,
dgc@shirenet.com, makeitso@icanect.net, evenstar17@hotmail.com,
MForrest@mrj.com, daileymg@znet.com, rolento@alphalink.com.au,
whq@acpub.duke.edu, jowalsvi@sendit.sendit.nodak.edu, djtst18+@pitt.edu
Subject: Love Spell 2

Summary: <Paris/Torres> Tom has a few things to say to B’Elanna, but
can’t work up the nerve to.

LOVE SPELL: PART TWO
By: Lauren Taylor

He hated seeing her like this. It had been a little over a month
since the accident in engineering, and B’Elanna was still paralyzed. Tom
spent many nights alone in his quarters, thinking about her, hoping that
a miracle would occur, but nothing. He visited her everyday, but was
getting nervous around her, not knowing what to say. It was hard saying
exactly how he felt when he was with her. He reached across to the table,
and picked up the PADD sitting on it. An idea had come to him, suddenly.
A way to tell her what she meant to him.
************************************************
The doctor was working furiously. He had found a surgery that
would hopefully work in curing Lt. Torres, but there was a lot of
pre-surgery procedures that needed to be followed, and it would be at
least two more weeks before the surgery could be performed. She was none
to thrilled with this news.
Tom rushed into sickbay, and saw that B’Elanna was asleep.
Perfect. He walked into the doc’s office, where Kes was studying up on
B’Elanna’s surgery.
“Kes?” he called her.
She looked up and smiled, but also seemed a bit annoyed.
“What is it, Tom?” she asked, trying to sound pleasant.
“I need you to read this to B’Elanna when she wakes up.” he told her, and
handed her the PADD.
************************************************
“B’Elanna?” Kes called to the lieutenant, who was just beginning to stir.
“What?” she asked groggily.
“I have something to read to you. It’s from Tom.”
B’Elanna perked to attention, and told Kes to read it. She was wondering
what it was, hoping for the best, and fearing the worst.
Kes sat down on a stool beside B’Elanna’s bed, and began.
“B’Elanna. I know that when I’m around you, it’s hard for me to say
exactly how I feel, so I thought that this would work. I love you, and
never want for us to be apart. Although you can’t walk, or move, or even
barely turn your head, I still love you just the same. I’m even finding
myself loving you more and more with each passing day. I didn’t think
that it was possible to love you more than I did, but now I know that it
is. And, B’Elanna, I have a question to ask of you, if you’ll just
contact me.”
B’Elanna was silent for a moment, and then turned her head slowly towards
Kes.
“Can you contact him for me?” she asked.
“Of course.” she leaned over, and hit B’Elanna’s comm badge.
“Torres to Paris.”
“Good, I was beginning to think you would never contact me.” he said, and
B’Elanna could see the grin on his face.
“So…”
“B’Elanna, I’m on the bridge right now, so I want you to know that
everyone can hear what I’m about to say. B’Elanna Torres, will you marry
me?”
***************************************************
TO BE CONTINUED
You guys hate me now, don’t you?

Paramount owns ’em, we just borrow ’em
Robbie loves us
Comments welcome at lauren35@juno.com

Posted in Voyager | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Love Spell

From lauren35@juno.com Sun Apr 27 17:17:50 1997
Date: Sat, 29 Mar 1997 21:21:38 EST
From: Lauren E Taylor <lauren35@juno.com>
To: bobc@edgar.k12.wi.us, Eraalpert@aol.com, dgc@shirenet.com,
makeitso@icanect.net, MForrest@mrj.com, mack3@ix.netcom.com,
daileymg@znet.com, rolento@alphalink.com.au, whq@acpub.duke.edu,
lauren35@juno.com, djtst18+@PITT.EDU, jowalsvi@sendit.sendit.nodak.edu
Subject: New story, ‘Love Spell’

Summary: <Paris, Torres> After dating for a few months, tragedy strikes
for B’Elanna Torres

LOVE SPELL
By: Lauren Taylor

The ship was being attacked, as far as B’Elanna Torres could
tell. They’d lost communication with the bridge very quickly. She was on
the top story of engineering, working on getting the most they could out
of the shields. Beside her was Lt. Jen Franklin, who was monitering the
ship’s status, and reporting whenever something went wrong, usually every
few seconds.
“Lieutenant!” she yelled to Torres, “There’s a plasma leak behind your
console!”
B’Elanna tried to work a few more seconds before it burst, but she was
too late. The console burst, throwing B’Elanna against the railing behind
her, and flying over the edge to the ground below.
“Lieutenant, are you alright?” Carey asked her as he leaned down over
her.
She tried to get up, but found it impossible. She took a few deep
breaths, and looked up at him.
“I can’t move.” she told him quietly.
******************************************************
The attack had ended, in victory for Voyager. B’Elanna had lost
consciousness just after revealing the frightening news to Carey, and was
now sleeping in sickbay.
Tom Paris had raced to sickbay the second he heard that something
had happened to B’Elanna. They had been dating for a few months, and was
planning on proposing to her the next day. He made it to the doctor, who
calmly explained the devastating occurences. Tom sat down in the chair in
the office, and took some deep breaths, seeming to be on the verge of
tears. The doctor left the office, and walked to B’Elanna’s bed,
hypospray in hand. He pressed it into her neck, and she woke up. She
tried to sit up, but barely even move her head.
“What happened?” she asked, fearing the worst.
“You took a rather nasty fall in engineering.” the doctor explained, “You
sustained a very serious spinal cord injury, beyond my abilities to
repair. I’m afraid that you are paralyzed.” he told the paniced woman.
***************************************************
TO BE CONTINUED
Don’t worry, this is only a 2 or 3 part story :~)

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Love Around Every Corner

From lauren35@juno.com Sun Apr 27 17:18:22 1997
Date: Sun, 30 Mar 1997 18:47:17 EST
From: Lauren E Taylor <lauren35@juno.com>
To: bobc@edgar.k12.wi.us, Eraalpert@aol.com, dgc@shirenet.com,
makeitso@icanect.net, MForrest@mrj.com, mack3@ix.netcom.com,
rolento@alphalink.com.au, whq@acpub.duke.edu, lauren35@juno.com,
djtst18+@pitt.edu, jowalsvi@sendit.sendit.nodak.edu, celiab@total.net,
Janeway101@aol.com, dca@theramp.net, rdaub@interlog.com, STNPM@aol.com,
daileymg@znet.com
Subject: ‘Love Around Every Corner’

Summary: A wedding brings more than one couple together.

LOVE AROUND EVERY CORNER
By: Lauren Taylor

B’Elanna rushed into the mess hall. She was supposed to meet
Harry and Tom for dinner, but she got into a conversation with Carey on
her way out of engineering, and couldn’t get him to shut up. She was now
15 minutes late.
“Well, here she is, Mrs. Punctual!” Tom exclaimed with a smile when he
saw B’Elanna sit down.
“Very funny, Paris. I was talking to Carey. The man never stops talking.”
she explained to her friends.
“And what fascinating subject was he rattling on about now?” Harry asked.
“He’s getting married.” she said, casually.
Tom nearly choked on his, well, whatever that was that Neelix had made,
and Harry froze in shock, staring at the chief engineer.
“Who’s Carey marrying?” Harry asked.
“Hell, who would marry him?” Tom joked.
“Mullins. Andrea Mullins. She’s an engineer. They’ve been dating for
about two months, from what I hear. I don’t know much about her, I’ve
never really talked to her.” B’Elanna said, “Oh, and the entire senior
staff is invited to the wedding, and must have dates.” she said, rolling
her eyes.
“Um, well, tell Carey I’m happy for him. I’ve got to go.” Harry said,
seeming a bit distracted, as he got up and left.
“What’s with him?” B’Elanna asked, seeming a bit confused.
“He’s nervous about having a date. I know who he wants to ask. Question
is, will he work up enough nerve to?” Tom told her.
“Who’s he want to go with? I didn’t even know he liked anyone. God, I
need to keep up with people’s lives.”
“I don’t think he wants me to say. So, who are you going to ask?” he
said, with a mischievous grin on his face.
“I don’t know. Maybe one of the engineers or something.” she told him,
shrugging it off.
“Well, I know who I’m going to ask.” Tom said, sure of himself.
“And who’s the lucky Delaney?” she asked, jokingly.
He grabbed her hand across the table, and looked her in the eyes.
“B’Elanna Torres, will you be my date at Carey’s wedding?”
********************************************************
Carey was getting married. God, this was a shock. Janeway never
even knew he was seeing anyone, and now his wedding was two weeks away,
and she needed someone to go with. She stifled a laugh as she realized
that she sounded like a high schooler, thinking about prom. She would
probably go with Chakotay. He was the only person she could see herself
dancing with at the reception, sitting next to during the ceremony, and,
the only one she even wanted to go with. She would ask him later, there
would be time later.
*Who are the others going with?* she thought to herself as she walked
across her ready room to the green couch. That was easy for a few people.
Paris would ask Torres, there was no doubt about it. Now, the others.
Harry, for example…
**************************************************
How could he ask her to the wedding? She’d laugh in his face. No,
she’s not like that, she’d say yes, but just to be nice. Harry paused as
he stood outside sickbay.
*I can’t do this. I’ll ask someone else.* he told himself.
*Harry, who will you ask? B’Elanna’s probably going with Tom, and who
else is there?* he argued with himself.
He took a few deep breaths, and walked into sickbay. Kes was
putting some supplies away, and the doctor was nowhere to be seen.
Perfect.
******************************************************
Tom and B’Elanna walked out of the mess hall, hand in hand. Just
on the deck above them, the captain and Chakotay were laughing and joking
in her ready room, and on deck six, Kes quietly said the word ‘yes’.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“May I have this dance?” Tom asked B’Elanna, with a hopeful smile on his
face.
B’Elanna smiled back, and stood up to dance with the man she’d grown to
love. Not love as a friend, or as a brother, but love as someone she
wanted to spend the rest of her life with. As they moved out onto the
dance floor, the two spotted Janeway and Chakotay dancing very close, and
Kes and Harry, still not dancing that close. This day was turning out to
be the best day of Tom’s life, although that wasn’t saying much. He’d had
a pretty rotten life, but Voyager was changing that. He had friends, more
than he’d ever had in his life, and now he had B’Elanna.
Harry was in heaven. He never thought he’d find happiness with
Kes, she’d always been with Neelix. There was something about her,
though, something he couldn’t describe, that drew him to her. He hoped
that this newfound love would grow into something very special.
Janeway and Chakotay danced into the night. Janeway was amazed at
the love that had been found that night, Tom and B’Elanna, but especially
Harry and Kes. The night was a night of romance, for more than just the
newlyweds. Life on Voyager was going to get very interesting from now
on…

THE END

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If I Had Only Known

OK, for those of you confused about this, let me explain. I’m writing the
this dimension stuff, where B’Elanna died. Erin’s writing the other
dimension stuff, where Tom died. We’re each writing three chapters of our
part, and then we’re writing one final part together. Here’s my final
solo part!

First off, here’s the song that inspired this chapter!
IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN by Reba McEntire

If I had only known
It was our last walk in the rain
If I had only known
I’d never hear your voice again
I’d memorize each thing you ever said
And on those lonely nights
I could think of them once more
Keep your words alive inside my head
If I had only known
I’d never hear your voice again

You were the treasure in my hand
You were the one who always stood beside me
So unaware I foolishly believed
That you would always be there
But then there came a day
And I turned my head and you slipped away

If I had only known
It was my last night by your side
I’d pray a miracle would stop the dawn
And when you’d smile at me
I would look into your eyes
And make sure you know my love for you goes on and on
If I had only known
If I had only known
The love I would have showed
If I had only known

Now, the story!
IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN

They had eaten breakfast together that day. Neelix had tried to
make pancakes. Tom wanted to tell her everything he felt, but couldn’t
work up the nerve to. They sat, making fun of Neelix’s attempt at human
food, and joked with each other. Then, they had to go. Tom stayed with
her in the turbolift, and asked her to dinner that night. She agreed, and
left him with the words
“See you later, Tom.”
*See you later, Tom*
But she didn’t see him later. She never saw him again. He had seen her,
in a coma, laying on the biobed. Five days later, she died. They never
had dinner together, she never knew how he felt about her. Tom’s life
fell apart when B’Elanna’s life ended.
Ten months later, Tom’s life was still in shambles. He still hid out in
his quarters most of the time, and, lately, he’d begun talking to
B’Elanna. Each night, when he would return to his quarters, he would pick
up the picture of the two of them, which had a permanent place on his
nightstand, and he would tell her how his day was, the events that had
occured, and all the latest gossip. If only she could hear him…
*********************************************
“Don’t worry, he’ll come.” Kes told Harry reassuringly.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked her.
“He’s been getting out a lot lately. He’s come to the mess hall a few
times, and I even saw him on the holodeck yesterday.” Kes explained to
him.
“I just wish he’d come to this. Last time we had a talent night, I had
him and B’Elanna there for me, cheering me on. Now, they’re both gone.”
he told her, his voice trailing off.
************************************************
It was talent night. God, why did all the activities Neelix
picked out have to remind him so much of B’Elanna?
*Because you make them remind you of her* he told himself.
But he had to go. He had no choice. Harry was counting on him.
He walked into the mess hall, looking around for someone,
B’Elanna.
*She’s not going to be here, you idiot!*
But she should have been there. She should have been there with him. He
took a seat next to Captain Janeway in the first row.
“Tom, I’m glad you made it.” Janeway said to him with a smile.
He just returned the grin, and went back to his thoughts.
*B’Elanna should be here. She should be sitting right beside me. There’s
an empty seat. Why isn’t she here?* he asked himself. This was too much.
Here he was, surrounded by everyone he knew, but someone was missing.
B’Elanna wasn’t there. She would never be there.
He felt a tear run down his cheek, and looked around. No one
noticed him. He got up, and ran his hardest, out the doors, into the
turbolift, and in the safety of his own quarters. His quarters were the
only sanctuary he had now. Here, with his picture. The only window he had
to her.
“B’Elanna, I can’t do this. I can’t go on without you. You were my life.
I love you. Please, come back. I love you, I love you…” he told her
picture, as he collapsed onto his bed in hysterics.

The
End

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