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Dark Territory: Maelstrom (WIP)

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USS Diadem
Main Bridge

“The Acastus is hailing us,” Warrant Officer Zoll said.

“Put them on screen,” Lt. Reeves said tightly. He squeezed the armrests on the command chair, his knuckles white as snow.

Iako glowered at him seconds later. “What is the meaning of this? We are your allies!”

No, the Romulans are our allies, Tom thought, but stopped himself from blurting that out. “Our sensors have detected burn markings consistent with Starfleet energy weapons on your hull. Care to explain that, and why you didn’t inform us of it when you contacted us?”

Iako’s fierce expression took on a grimmer cast. After a few tortured seconds, the Reman admitted, “We…destroyed them.”

There were audible gasps across the bridge, but Tom kept his revulsion in check. “Why?” He asked coldly.

“We weren’t coming to assist you, we were coming to aid the Dominion,” Iako admitted. “We were seeking an alliance with the Founders, and offering this vessel and Romulan prisoners would’ve proved our trustworthiness to the Dominion, but you ruined that by destroying the Breen vessels. Now, we will have to destroy you to prove ourselves.”

Tom sat back in his seat, throttled by the Reman’s cold appraisal of what had really happened to the Alphard and the Romulan crew on the Acastus. His stomach roiled with fear and disgust over the savagery of the Remans and the fight that was to come. He struggled for the appropriate response to Iako’s casual brutality, something that would give making the Reman as afraid as he felt, or at the least give the murdering bastard pause. He searched his memory for something that pithy that Captain Tallis had said when confronted by Dominion forces before, but he found nothing adequate. So, he just went with his gut. “You can try,” he boasted.
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Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Incarceration Chamber

“How many Jem’Hadar soldiers transported onto this ship? Were all they all accounted for among the corpses?” Lady Diellza asked.

Subthot Tonfa, strapped in chair merely laughed, but coughing fits. The man’s armor had been lacerated during the fight and during his interrogation, claw marks scoring deeply into the armor, with patches of flesh torn out of him. Disgustingly enough there wasn’t even the sweet smell of blood to at least compensate for the Breen’s intransigence. “Remove his mask,” the Unguis chief ordered.

Igar, the Paladin assigned to her by Nadfar Renz, the new commander of the elite guard, rushed to obey her orders. Tonfa pulled away, thrashing and bucking against his restraints. Igar latched his large paws on either side of the mask and twisted the mask upward as if were a screw.

“Be careful not to break his neck,” Diellza ordered.

“No, no,” Tonfa said, almost pleading.

“Halt,” Diellza commanded and Igar reluctantly stopped. But he hovered over the Breen, his hands still clamped on the sides of the mask. “Tell us what we want to know and I will not remove your mask.”

“I…will only tell you this,” Tonfa said slowly, barely whispering. Diellza moved forward, leaning down slightly to hear him fully.

“Go on,” she prodded.

“You…you’re all going to die,” Tonfa’s laughter sounded like metal scraping, painful to the Alshains’ sensitive hearing.

Despite her pain, Diellza reached forward, grabbed underneath the edge of the Breen’s mask and ripped it from his head. As he gasped, steam rising from the collar of his suit, the noxious mix of chemicals covering his face, it was now Diellza that had the last laugh.
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USS Diadem
Main Bridge

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how big warbirds are,” Ensign Baker remarked, her eyes as big as moons as she took in the large, predatory green ship hurtling towards them.

“They’re size isn’t what I’m worried about at the moment,” Lt. Reeves replied.

“Acastus is powering forward disruptor arrays,” Mr. Zoll called out.

“Evasive maneuvers Eloise,” Tom informed the flight controller. The Diadem moved to avoid the shafts of disruptor energy unleashed from the Acastus, but they hadn’t reacted fast enough. To everyone Tom called out, “Brace for incoming!”

Fortunately Diadem missed most of the volley, Ensign Baker jerking the ship hard to starboard. The underside of the ship was clipped however, rattling the bridge so hard that Tom’s teeth clattered. “Damage report!” He ordered.

“We’ve lost the main sensor array,” Daf said, “And the engineering hull launcher.”

“Casualties?”

“I don’t have that information yet,” The Trill replied.

“Okay,” Tom said, turning his focus back to the battle at hand. “Let’s give them a little payback.”

“Aye , aye sir,” Zoll said with relish. Tom felt the thrumming beneath his feet as the Warrant Officer let loose a salvo. Several golden beams smashed into the Acastus’s shields.

“No direct impacts,” the Zaldan griped before Tom could ask, “But there shields have been weakened twenty percent.”

“Hit them again,” Tom commanded before the ship lurched. The lighting dimmed, before returning to normal. “How bad?”

“Several portside hull breaches, on Decks Seven through Twelve,” Lt. Daf said. “Emergency measures have already been enacted.”

“Hit them Mr. Zoll,” Tom ordered, “And try striking blood this time.”

“I will,” the Zaldan promised. A fusillade of phaser blasts pummeled the Acastus. The bubble around the ship wavered and then disappeared. The next round stitched across the warbird’s bow.

“Direct hits to the main hull, weapons and propulsion systems,” Zoll said with obvious satisfaction.

“But not enough to make those systems inoperative,” Daf noted.

“I was getting to that,” the Zaldan groused.

“Why aren’t they moving?” Baker asked.

“Why aren’t we?” Tom snapped. The human woman quickly put in a new course and the ship dipped just before the Acastus returned fire. The Diadem came up behind the warbird and began firing at its aft section. “Damn I wish we had photon or quantum torpedoes.”

“Yeah, these Remans aren’t very astute when it comes to starship combat,” Zoll remarked. “I wonder how they got the jump on the Alphard?”

“I really don’t want to find out,” Tom said. “Take out their aft shields and then their engines.” Zoll responded, unloosing a quiver of phaser bolts at the backside of the warbird. Before they hit pay dirt, the Remans began firing back, with a ferocious mix of disruptor beams and photon torpedoes. “Break off, break off!” Tom ordered.

The Diadem pulled back, out of the range of fire. “Hail them,” Tom ordered.

“Hailing frequencies are open, though the Remans have not established a visual link,” Lt. Daf said.

“All right,” Tom muttered, before saying more loudly, “Iako, this is getting us nowhere. We are pretty evenly matched. Even if you somehow succeed in destroying our vessel yours will be so crippled that you won’t make it to Dominion territory before you encounter another Starfleet ship or a fleet of them. Surrender now and I will consider granting any asylum requests you might wish propose.”

“Acastus is coming about,” Lt. Daf said.

“But they are powering down their weapons,” Zoll said, disappointed. The main viewer shifted to an image of Iako.

“You would do such a thing?” The Reman asked, with obvious skepticism. “How can I trust you?”

Good point, Tom thought. He looked around the bridge, seeing if anyone else had an idea. All right, he decided after a few moments, after an insane idea popped into his head. “Okay, how about I request your asylum from the bridge of your ship?”

“You would do that?” A shocked Iako asked.

“Yeah, you would do that?” Zoll muttered.

“Sir, I protest,” Daf said.

“So do I,” Tom whispered, “But it’s the best way we can prevent more bloodshed.”

“If you lower your shields I’ll be aboard,” Tom began. Iako chuckled.

“I see your aim now, an almost brilliant ruse,” the Reman said. “But we will not give you an opening to land a death blow.”

“Acastus is powering weapons again,” Zoll said tightly.

“Damn,” Tom muttered. “Fire now! Hit them before they can get a shot off at us!” Zoll was quicker on the draw. The Diadem’s volley smashed into the Acastus’s still weakened shields, demolishing large sections of the warbird. “Move,” Tom ordered, “Stick and move, we’ve still got maneuverability on our side.” The Diadem danced around the warbird, firing and moving on, striking on all sides. Eloise’s moves made Tom dizzy, but as long as it was keeping them alive he wasn’t complaining. The Remans tried to compensate against the pinwheel assault, but Tom guessed their lack of space combat worked against them the longer the battle progressed.

“The Acastus’s shields are down!” Zoll shouted in triumph.

“Hail them again,” Tom commanded. A bloodied Iako reappeared, his features distorted by a static filled screen.

“You will not defeat us,” he rasped. “We would rather die free than live enslaved…either as vassals of the Star Empire…or the Federation.”

“Detecting a buildup in the warbird’s singularity drive,” Daf said. “Oh gods, they are overcharging their propulsion system!”

“Beam off as many as you can!” Tom said.

“What?” Zoll asked.

“You heard me!” Tom snapped. “Do it, now!”

“Aye sir,” Lt. Daf replied.

“Put them in the cargo bays, behind forcefields,” Tom said, “And alert security to take position at the entrance to each beam-in site.”

“Yes sir,” The Trill responded.

“No, don’t deny us an honorable death!” Iako thundered before he disappeared in a shaft of light.

“The Acastus will reach critical mass in ten seconds,” Lt. Daf said. “We have to get out of here, now.”

“How many people are still on the warbird?” Tom asked.

“You really don’t want to know,” The Trill said with an empathetic look.

“You’re probably right,” Tom admitted. “Eloise, get us out of here.” Ensign Baker had just taken the Diadem to full impulse when the Acastus exploded, catching them in the shockwave.

Not again, Tom thought as he was thrown from his seat, consoles exploding around him.
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I like Reeves. He and the rest of the crew are in over their heads here but they're doing a pretty good job here nevertheless. Reeves is also proving that he can improvise even though offering asylum to a group of Remans responsible for destroying a Starfleet ship would not be my first choice.

Also probably not a good idea: Beaming them onto your ship. They might suck at ship-to-ship combat but the last thing you wanna do is face them hand-to-hand.
 
Very well done and very gripping sequences. I also like Reeves and the other junior officers on the Diadem--they're really stepping up to the plate here, but it's looking like Reeves might have made a junior officer's mistake in beaming the Remans on board. While his intentions were most noble and good--you know what they say about good intentions...
 
I agree, it looks like Reeves is making a miscalculation.

...I like that D'Noth guy, though. ;)
 
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Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Healing Chamber

Darkness enshrouded them. “What happened?” Ensign Rojas said.

“Don’t know,” Glover said tersely. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes sir,” both Pell and Juanita answered back. The quietness was disturbed with soft grunting.

“Pell, are you alright?” Glover asked.

“Yes sir, could you help me with the door?”

“Of course,” the captain said, slowly making his way carefully through the pitch. He reached out, his fingertips brushing against unyielding metal. “I’m here,” he said.

“Good sir,” Pell’s hand reached out and grasped his. Terrence felt a small spark and immediately felt embarrassed. He was glad the Bajoran couldn’t see him. Pell guided his hand to a seam in the door. “Start here sir,” she instructed.

“You got it,” Glover said, latching both hand onto the seam. He began pulling with all of his strength.

“I want to help too,” Rojas said, sounding a bit petulant. Seconds later, she bumped into him before navigating to the other side of Lt. Commander Pell. “Sorry sir,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Glover said through clenched teeth, his focus almost completely on opening the uncooperative door. Though it seemed to take an eternity, the servos gave and the door slowly parted. Terrence blinked, his eyes adjusting to the emergency lighting shining up from the length of the hallway’s floor. He noticed Pell on her knees and Rojas to the side of her. Both women were drenched with sweat and Glover was damp himself. The captain led the way out into the corridor.

“What do we do now?” Juanita asked. Glover didn’t like deferring but he turned to Lt. Commander Pell.

“Ojana, you know this ship better than we do, where should we go next?”

In the wan light, Terrence could see the pinched expression on the woman’s face as she considered her options. Seconds later, the corridor filled with a terrible racket, and several heavily armored guards ran by them, seemingly oblivious to their presence. “Umm, how about we follow them?” The Bajoran suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Glover wryly remarked.
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USS Diadem
Main Bridge

Strong hands shook Tom awake. “Lt. Reeves, Lieutenant…Tom,” Lt. Daf called, shaking him again.

“What?” Reeves said, his voice sounding slurred and unfamiliar to his own ears. His head throbbed with pain. “Whas happenin’?”

“The Remans have escaped the cargo bay, that’s what,” Warrant Officer Zoll snarled. “I’m going down there to deal with the situation.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Tom said, still not fully grasping the enormity of what he had just been told. Daf helped him gently to his feet and placed him back in the central chair. Tom struggled not to slide back out of it, and into a mote of darkness. He heard Zoll’s heavy footsteps behind him, moving toward the turbolift, but only turned his head when he heard the Zaldan gasp, followed by a nearly collective sound of wonder across the bridge.

Captain Tallis stood in the entrance of the lift, her uniform bloody, and a jagged, alien blade in one of her hands. “I just took care of one of them; think you can clean up the rest Mr. Zoll?”

“Yes sir,” the Zaldan said with enthusiasm.

“Get to it,” the Andorian commanded. She walked along the aft portion of the bridge, taking stock and allowing everyone to see her before she went down into the command well. Tom struggled to rise to relinquish command of the seat to her, but Tallis firmly pressed him back into the seat. “Don’t get up on my account,” she tried to smile. “You’ve earned it.”

“But sir?”

The Andorian looked at Lt. Daf. “Call Dr. Heine and see if we can’t get a medic up here for Tom and the others.”

“I will sir,” the Trill replied. Daf quickly moved to an unoccupied aft station. Tallis took the Executive Office seat.

“Mr. Daf, what’s our status?”

“Sir, ship systems took a severe hit due to the destruction of the Acastus,” the Trill said. “We’ve lost main propulsion, shields, and are running on auxiliary power. You already know about our Reman problem.”

“How long will it take to get us back up and running?” The captain asked.

“I can’t say for certain sir,” the Trill answered honestly. “And Dr. Heine will send up a medic as soon as she’s able.”

“Good work,” Tallis said. She turned to Tom and leaned close to him. “Thank you…for everything. You’re going to get you some help as soon as we take care of the Remans.”

“I was just doing my job sir,” Tom said.

“I’m going to make sure you continue to do it, but with a new title, Lieutenant Commander.” Tallis smiled briefly.
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Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Surgical Chamber

The Starfleet trio followed the Alshain guards into the crowded medical room. During the run ship’s lighting had been restored. A smallish, golden downed woman whipped around, her nostrils flaring and her fangs flashing, “How did you escape?” She snapped.

“I wasn’t aware we were prisoners,” Glover replied. “Are we?”

“Should you be?” The woman replied. “First the Breen assault, then your convenient arrival, and now this!”

“This? What happened?” Glover moved forward, but the guards crowded around the woman. “And how are you?”

“It’s Lady Diellza, one of the chiefs of the Unguis.”

“The secret police,” Terrence remarked with displeasure. The idea of a government employing such repressive techniques against its own populace disgusted him. And it made him even more skeptical of the feasibility of an alliance with the Exarchate, especially since he wondered how many shared Diellza’s suspicion of the Federation.

“I’m Captain Terrence Glover,” he replied.

“I know who you are,” she said dismissively, turning away. She nodded, and the wall of soldiers parted. The trio eased their way past the armor and coarse fur. Exarch Jedalla lie in an encased biobed, spidery cracks running the length of it.

“Prophets,” Pell whispered, covering her mouth. “What happened?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Queen Symea said. She rested against the biobed, half of her facial fur burned off. A medic was running a scanner over her injuries. Both were surrounded by blood.

“Who does that blood belong to?” Terrence asked.

“Lord Burim,” Diellza said.

“Where’s the body?” Pell asked.

“We’ve already removed it.”

“What happened here?” Glover asked again.

Symea snorted, pawing at the medic. “A Jem’Hadar tried to kill the Exarch. Burim and Renz gave their lives protecting my husband and me.”

“A Jem’Hadar?” Terrence asked. “One survived? Has been captured or killed?”

“He escaped,” Diellza said, a note of dejection in her voice. “He shrouded.”

“Yes, after his cowardly attack…he…shimmered into nothingness.”

“Damn,” Terrence pounded his fist into his other open palm. “One of those bastards got away. He was probably behind the power outage too.”

“It might be more than one,” A spindly, well dressed older Alshain noted. Diellza glowered.

“Do you have any method to track them?” Pell asked.

“Our sensors are just as inadequate against the Jem’Hadar shrouds as yours have been,” Glover recognized War Minister Ardit from Federation News Service clips.

“That’s not what I mean. Can you pick up his scent?” The Bajoran clarified.

“No,” Symea said, with a pained bewilderment. “I did not pick up his scent.”

“Perhaps he has found some way to mask that as well,” Vizier Topal offered.

“No matter,” Lady Diellza declared, “We will find the assassin or assassins and dine on their entrails.”

“See that you do,” Queen Symea warned, “Or you will be the main course instead.”
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I like the track-down-the-invisible-threat angle. Always fun. I bet Glover will find ways to make himself useful in that task as well.

As for Reeves, he's got his captain back. Question remains, is she fit to return? And more importantly, what are they going to do about the Remans running loose?
 
I like the track-down-the-invisible-threat angle. Always fun. I bet Glover will find ways to make himself useful in that task as well.

As for Reeves, he's got his captain back. Question remains, is she fit to return? And more importantly, what are they going to do about the Remans running loose?
Same thing as Glover and co will do to the Jem'Hadar. kill him/them. :devil:
 
A shrouded Jem'Hadar vs. a crew of howling mad Alshain...I feel sorry for the Jemmy. As for Tallis--good to see her back, but is she truly ready? And Reeves--he did a good job in the hot seat--it was a nice touch of Tallis' telling him to stay in the center seat--it also reveals that Tallis isn't sure about her own condition--not a good thing.
 
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USS Diadem
Deck Three

Zoll’s security team hadn’t gotten far, but the Remans had. They tore from the lower levels, a rabid horde of wraiths. Turning the corner on the officer’s floor, the Zaldan warrant officer heard the Remans before he saw them. “Stop,” he hissed, throwing himself backward before a hail of disruptor fire ionized the air in front of him.

“Damn, they’re quick,” groused Officer M’Koma.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Officer Payne replied, an octagonal green sensor eyepiece covering his left eye. “The rampage ends here.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Zoll said. He gave several hand signals and the crew took up positions, threading down the corridor, behind what bulkheads or other cover they could find. The Zaldan knelt and Payne took up position behind him. The young human cradled a TR-116 rifle. The rifle was loaded with tritanium bullets, hard enough to punch through the wall they were propped against. The exographic targeting sensor he sported over his eye allowed Payne the ability to see through walls.

Unfortunately, Zoll hadn’t been able to outfit his entire security detachment with similar technology. Only Payne and Officer Milon had the rifles. Everyone else held phaser rifles or pistols. Milon stood a safe distance behind Payne. Both men pressed their rifle emitters against the wall and awaited Zoll’s instructions. The Remans fired again, and Zoll returned fire, but told his two ringers to hold back.

The Zaldan tapped the chevron-shaped combadge on his chest.

“Reeves here.”

“Do we have enough power to erect a forcefield in Deck Three, Corridor G?” Zoll rasped. He wanted to trap the Remans inside the corridor and give them a chance to surrender. If they didn’t, he was going to order Payne and Milon to pick them off.

“Let me check,” Reeves replied. Seconds later, he came back online, “That’s a negative.”

“I thought as much,” Zoll replied.

“I’m sorry,” Reeves answered.

“Don’t worry about us,” Zoll said. “We’ll make do.”

“Good luck,” Reeves responded. Zoll grunted before looking up at the two anxious men.

“Take them out, incapacitate as many as you can.”

“Aye sir,” came the crisp replies. Payne was all business now. And Zoll never had seen a time when the Benzite Milon wasn’t serious. The recoils reverberated through the hall as both fired multiple rounds. Zoll squinted, chips of metal and dust pelting his face and stinging his eyes from the reports, but he held his ground. It would look unseemly to appear fazed or daunted. He also took cautious peeks around the corner and fired a few shots every few seconds.

“They’re running sir,” Payne replied.

“That means they’ve got brains at least,” M’Koma said.

“Not for long,” Payne boasted. The Caitian sniffed with disgust.

“Why do you have to be so bloodthirsty?” She replied.

“Enough repartee, it’s time to give chase,” Zoll ordered. He stood up and waved his phaser hand forward. “Let’s go.”
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Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Conservatory Salon

“Keep your wits keen Cub,” Queen Symea whispered down, her voice ragged with just a hint of pain. She limped along but Juanita and the guards surrounding them both knew better than to make note of it.

The contingent entered the darkened cartography room; only the muted stars dotting the walls provided dull illumination. “Behind me,” Symea whispered, sweeping Juanita behind her. She heard the larger woman inhale, and the other Alshain did likewise. “Do any of you have its scent?”

“No my queen,” came the terse replies.

“The creature is not here,” Symea said, frustration creeping into her tone.
“Shouldn’t we turn on the lights first and give this room a good once over before we move on to the next one?” Juanita asked. The question prompted a round of chuckling. Juanita looked around, her eyebrow raised in consternation. “I didn’t know I made a joke.”

“Lower your hackles Little One,” Symea said, “We forget that humans don’t have our heightened olfactory or visual senses.”

“Besides turning on the lights wouldn’t mean much if the Jem’Hadar was shrouded,” one of the Alshain soldier’s added.

“Perhaps, but maybe he left a clue behind that we might miss, if we are too focused on just picking up his scent,” Juanita countered.

The queen nodded. “That does make sense,” She said. She turned to her guards. “Activate the illumination and spread out.”

“Thank you your Highness,” Juanita felt mollified and pleased that the queen took her seriously.

“No, my apologies, sometimes we can rely too much on our senses,” Symea confided. “It is a great strength that can be turned into a weakness with a crafty enough foe.”

“I can’t think of any adversaries craftier than the Jem’Hadar,” Juanita said.

“I’m starting to understand why,” the queen concurred.
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Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Food Storage Bins

“The smell is atrocious,” Captain Glover remarked. “What exactly do these Alshain dine on?” He asked, disgusted. He and Pell had been dispatched to the ship’s lower levels in search of the Jem’Hadar. They were scouring over the food stores, and had already completed their inspection of the hydroponics labs. Now they walked between walls of metal doors, marked only with thin ventilation slits. Occasionally one of the creatures would growl, wail, or plow into the door of their containment unit as they passed by.

“If you want to keep your lunch I suggest you avoiding looking in the stalls,” Pell replied. “Phew.” She placed a finger under her nose.

“I know that Diellza put us on this detail for spite,” Terrence replied. “They don’t expect the Jem’Hadar to be hiding out down here. Even with his shroud, the smells he would pick up here would follow him like a solar flare.”

“True,” Pell agreed.

“So, this assignment was to keep us out of the way,” Glover said. “What kind of allies are these?”

“They aren’t as bad as it seems sir,” Pell said.

“They eat live food, they still have social stratification and a group of second-class citizens living among them,” Glover said, glowering. “I’ve read reports about their treatment of the Itrob. It’s deplorable.”

“Sir, greater ties to the Federation might alleviate some of those problems. The Alshain are torn between their imperial past and the desire to be seen and respected as a modern nation. Once they realize that most modern nations don’t condone slavery, caste systems, or discrimination they might relent.”

“Might, that’s a big if,” Glover replied.

“I know, but we’ve been allies with the Klingons for almost a hundred years and they are still an expansionist power.”

“But that’s different,” Glover said.

“How so?” Pell rounded on him.

“Well,” the captain shrugged. “It just is.”

“No, we saw an opportunity for peace and we took it, mainly for our own benefit, and now an alliance with the Alshain offers a chance for us to expedite the end of the war, and we are taking it. The Federation can turn a blind eye to a lot of things if they stand in the way of their interests, or if they aren’t threatening their interests….like the Occupation.”

Glover tensed. “Pell….” He began.

“Terrence you have nothing to be sorry for. That blood dried a long time ago.”

“But it still stains the galaxy,” Glover said. “If we had done something about the Cardassians earlier then maybe the Dominion wouldn’t have gained a foothold into the Alpha Quadrant.”

Pell laughed bitterly. “You really believe that? If it hadn’t been the Cardassians, it would’ve been someone else…maybe even the Alshain. Someone would’ve taken that Pah Wraith’s bargain.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” he glumly concluded. “But it doesn’t erase the fact that the Federation did far too little to help your people.”

“I know,” Pell said. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “But your father’s advocacy really helped some of us, and I’ll be eternally grateful.”

“Thank you for that,” Terrence said. “It means a lot to me for you to say that.”


Pell nodded, smiling. “It’s heartfelt.”

“I know,” Glover said. “Now, let’s move on to other topics.”

“Such as,” Pell asked, but her tone knowing.

“What’s going on with your love life?”

“Sir, I don’t think this is the time or place to discuss such matters.”

“So, I take that as nothing then,” Glover grinned. Pell merely smiled bashfully.

“Well, I for one am glad you decided to kick old Sandy to the curb.”

“It didn’t happen like that,” Pell countered. “Donald got a great opportunity on the Venture and he took it, with my blessing.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Terrence blew through his teeth. “If he had been half the man I thought he might be, he would’ve recognized your worth more than any executive officer’s seat.”

“It’s nice of you to say so Terrence, but I find it a little disingenuous, such a sentiment coming from you of all people. I believe your image would pop up under the definition of ambition in the database.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Glover grinned. “That would be Captain Shelby on the Sutherland. Trust me, I know.”

“I’ll go with my gut on this one instead,” Pell smiled.

“Suit yourself,” Terrence shrugged. He held up the bulky scanner the Alshain had given him and swept it around the hall.

“Anything?”

“Nah,” the captain said. “Just like before.” He pulled the communicator latched to his belt and updated Lady Diellza. After his report, Glover declared, “There’s nothing down here, and I’m tired of being sent on snipe hunts. Give us something substantial to do.”

“Snipe?” Diellza asked, flippantly. “I am not aware of that animal, but it sounds delicious. Stand by.” Static filled the other line, and Pell braced herself for an angry retort. After a few stretched seconds, Diellza said, “Take the nearest lift back to the Command Salon. We will reconnoiter there.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Glover replied, giving Pell a confident smirk. Once he had deactivated the communicator, he said. “Now that’s how you get things done.”

Pell rolled her eyes. “If you say so sir.”

“I do. Say so,” He bowed and made a sweeping gesture, “After you milady.” The lift was just around the corner. Stepping in, Pell, more conversant in Alshain script input the transit command. The lift lurched upward, but then stopped with such force that Pell fell backward. Glover rushed to catch her, and she fell into his arms. He held her for a few seconds, their eyes connecting and his body flushed with warmth.

“I’m…uh…okay now Terrence,” Pell whispered.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Glover stammered. He placed the woman upright. He looked down and around, composing himself before facing her again.

“It appears there’s a glitch with the lift,” Pell said.

“Try it again,” Terrence said. “You know Alshain technology isn’t as advanced as our own.”

“I’m aware of that,” Pell went back to the panel and input the same command. This time a surge of electricity shot out of the panel, wrapping around the Bajoran’s hand with a lethal grip. Terrence launched himself at her, yanking her back and into his arms again with such force that he lost his footing. He fell against the wall and the quivering Pell fell on top of him.

“Ojana! Ojana!” He cried, holding the woman tightly. He placed her right side up. She had stopped quivering, and was no longer breathing. Glover immediately placed her on the deck and administered CPR. He was still working on her when the lift’s light went out and the cabin plunged.
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Looks like the folks on the Diem have things well under control. Good move to bring out the guns that can shoot through walls. A bit suprising they had them on hand but a good call.

I liked that Glover and Pell found the time to have a personal conversation. As I've often said, I'm a big fan of your dialog and here I was once again reminded why. The awkward moments between the two were priceless.

Great stuff.
 
********************************************************************

USS Diadem
Deck Three

Every few seconds one of the retreating Remans would fire backwards, their wild shots usually missing. Except this time. The blast hit Officer M’Koma with such force that it spun her around. She crashed into a partially opened door. She grasped both ends of the door, trying to maintain her footing. Her claws scored into both edges of the door, pushing them apart. M’Koma fell forward into the room, the agony in her side spreading like a lava flow of pain throughout her body.

Clutching her sides, her pain was overwhelmed by a stronger scent of death. She blinked back the darkness, her eyes focusing on the charred husk smoldering in the center of the room. “Oh gods,” she said, the scent registering a memory. She whispered the name, her heart filling with terror.

On the periphery of consciousness she heard voices around her. She sensed their concern. She tried pointing at the remains, telling them what they were. Before she slipped into darkness she was at least darkly gratified to hear someone utter: “The captain. That’s the captain’s body.”
******************************************************************
Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Lift

Captain Terrence Glover’s mind raced as he thought of survival techniques. He placed Pell’s insensate body. He pushed his concern back to her to the back of his mind as he rushed over the blackened control panel. He gingerly touched the charred metal. Thankful that he hadn’t been shocked, Terrence worked on the bolts connecting the panel to the wall. It was slow, painful going, the metal bolts cutting into his flesh. Eventually Terrence gave up. He wouldn’t be able to open the panel in however seconds were left. He was at least grateful that the humongous cruiser at least gave them a few more seconds until it reached bottom. He could feel his stomach plunging along with the cabin.

Glover went back over to Pell and lay down beside her. He reached out and touched Pell’s shoulder before wrapping his hand in hers. He had read before that the best way to survive a runaway elevator was to lay flat on the floor. The captain didn’t know if it would work, and he silently made his goodbyes. It would be an interesting way to go, he figured, but at least he would die in the line of duty; a fitting end. He transferred his sadness to Pell.

She had had such a rough life, living under Cardassian Occupation, losing her husband, living as a homeless refugee, and then her fitful relationship with Donald Sandhurst. She had never seemed to find much peace after leaving Bajor. Terrence wished that she had. He gazed at her. The sound of the screeching metal and burning cables filled his ears, drowning out everything else. “It’s been a hell of a ride old friend,” the captain whispered. He closed his eyes and prepared for eternity.
*************************************************************
USS Diadem
Main Bridge

Lt. Kurman Daf’s combadge beeped. He tapped without thinking, his mind still focused on getting all of the ship’s systems back online. “Tallis is a Changeling,” Zoll’s ragged whisper cut through the Trill’s preoccupation. He blinked.

“What?”

“Something wrong Lieutenant?” Lt. Reeves called out from the command well. Daf looked around and saw several other officers looking at him.

“Oh…uh, nothing,” he squeaked.

“Was that one of the repair groups or security groups checking in?” Captain Tallis asked. She stood up and looked at him. He tried not to stare too hard, but there was nothing suspicious about her. She looked and acted like the captain he had served under years. But from what he had heard and read the changelings were masters of disguise that could imitate anyone down to the molecular level. But they also could mimic voices. Who was to say that it was really Zoll on the other line?

“One of the security groups, just informing me that the optical data network station has been secured. It’s safe to send a repair crew down there now.”

“Strange that they wouldn’t inform us of that first,” Reeves said.

“Who is heading that team?” Tallis asked.

Daf hesitated, “Well…umm….”

“Who?” The Andorian’s gaze hardened. Her compin chirped. She activated it.

“Warrant Officer Zoll,” came the reply, loud enough to be heard across the now nearly silent bridge.

“Is there some reason for this breach in protocol?” Tallis asked sharply.

“Yeah,” the Zaldan said. “You’re a Changeling. We just found the real Tallis’s remains in her cabin.” Certainly the bluntness sounded like Zoll.

Tallis laughed. “How do we know that you aren’t the shape-shifter?”

“I’m willing to take a blood screening. Are you?” Came the terse reply.

“I’ve heard enough,” the captain tapped off.

“Captain?” Lt. Reeves asked cautiously. “We have to test you.”

“Of course,” she said. “But first I want Zoll taken into custody and returned to the bridge.”

Daf watched anxiously as Tom redirected a security detail to intercept Zoll’s team. “That’s done captain.” The wearied human replied. “Now, the blood screening.”

“Ah yes,” the Andorian turned to him slowly. She put out her arm and rolled back her sleeve. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Someone grab a medical kit,” Reeves instructed, turning away from the captain. In that brief second Daf watched in voiceless horror as Tallis’s arm elongated, her fingers shaping into a blade that speared Reeves. The human twitched in pain and surprise, trying to turn back around, to see futilely who had attacked him. Tallis, or the thing masquerading as Tallis, twisted the blade and Reeves gasped, spitting out blood. The shape-shifter pulled the blade from him. Her other arm had morphed into a similar weapon. The bridge crew recoiled. She grinned, the fact that it still wore Tallis’s face, made the expression even more frightening.

“Now the fun begins,” she promised.
********************************************************************

Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Lift

Glover smiled as he felt a familiar tingling run from his boots and up his body. Thank God, he thought as the transporter took him. He glanced over and saw Pell dissolving as well. “We’re not out of the game yet,” he whispered.

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

USS Diadem
Captain’s Quarters
Deck Three

“I want the rest of you to keep pursuing the Remans,” Zoll commanded. “We can’t let them run wild on the ship.”

“Sir, you can’t take on a Changeling alone,” Payne replied. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re following orders,” the Zaldan puffed out his chest.

“Screw orders!” Payne shot back. “These bastards just killed M’Koma!
They killed the captain and now one of them is running loose on the bridge. It’s my duty to protect this ship and that mother frinxer is the greatest threat to our security!”

“Well said,” Zoll said. “You come with me. The rest of you, get going. Milon you’re in charge.”

“I can’t wait to put a bullet through that Founder,” Payne said.

“I can’t wait to watch you do it,” Zoll added.
********************************************************************

Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Command Salon


“That was a close call sir,” Ensign Juanita Rojas said, smiling. She wiped away tears. “I thought I was about to lose you too sir.”

Glover wrapped the young woman in a firm embrace. He leaned down and said softly, “You will never lose me. I’m too tough to die.”

Juanita chuckled. “You almost have me believing it.”

“I’ll make a true believer before too long,” he promised.

“Is Commander Pell going to be okay?” She asked. Glover looked toward the Alshain. They were hovering over her. Through the hirsute wall, the captain saw one of the Alshain waving a scanner over her.

Terrence, holding Juanita’s hand, pushed his way through the circle. “How is she? Will she be all right?” The kneeling Alshain looked up.

“She will live,” The woman said. “But she will need medical attention for the burns.”

“Take her to an auxiliary medical chamber,” Queen Symea commanded. The female officer picked out several burly warriors and they gently picked up Pell’s body. Symea gave another order and the quartet was beamed away.

“Shouldn’t we go with them?” Rojas asked.

“There’s not much we can do for Pell now,” Terrence replied. “And I trust the medical staff to mend her injuries. I shouldn’t have a reason not to trust them, should I?” He turned to Lady Diellza. She sniffed.

“No harm will come to her,” The Unguis operative replied.

“You have my word,” Symea added, mollifying Juanita. She trusted the fearsome royal.

“I’m assuming that we have our Jem’Hadar saboteur to thank for that mishap,” Glover ventured.

“That is correct,” Diellza said.

“Did any search team encounter him?”

“No,” The Unguis replied grimly.

“We must redouble our efforts,” Queen Symea said.

“I agree,” Vizier Topal chimed in.

“We will reform teams,” the queen began.

The captain cut her off. “I don’t want to go on a wild goose chase. I want to be in the thick of things. This bastard tried to kill me, and he hurt my friend. I want him.” Juanita was a little frightened by the change that had come over the captain. The rage had come over him like a storm cloud, and she could see the fire blazing in his eyes. It reminded her of how he was after Chin’toka. Thinking about Chin’toka, all that carnage, and Pedro, Juanita realized that she understood better than most the cause of his anger.

Symea nodded. “Your blood thirst is admirable.”

“You don’t know the half,” Terrence said.
************************************************************************
 
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Well, I certainly didn't see that coming ... a changeling. I was a bit disappointed they didn't take better security measures after the first accusations were made but I guess the changeling played the part perfectly. To bad about Reeves, I liked the guy.

I'm curious to see how they're going to try and stop the shapeshifter. Not so sure a bullet will do the trick.

And Glover is on the war path (again). That ought to be fun.
 
And now a changeling thrown into the mix. To echo CeJay, too bad about Reeves--but then this is a "Dark Territory" story--no such animal as "character shields"!

Glover on a rampage--I pity the Jem'Hadar!
 
********************************************************************

Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
En Route to the Armory

Captain Terrence Glover was seething. All he saw flashing before his eyes was Pell’s unconscious body; it seemed like the smell of her burned flesh would linger in his nostrils forever. He walked beside War Minister Ardit. He was the only Alshain in their search party walking upright. The other guards were loping on all fours, and some had even taken to crawling along the walls. Glover was impressed despite himself at the warriors’ agility and the sharpness of their claws.

Ardit leaned forward, his ears standing up on his head, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scents of the corridor. “Anything?” Glover asked. He had been able to stop himself from repeating the question every few seconds. The white-furred War Minister didn’t seem too annoyed by the captain’s persistence. Terrence wouldn’t have cared if he had been. Ardit turned to him briefly.

“Nothing,” he said tersely, before taking another whiff.

“Damn, this is getting us nowhere,” Terrence groused.

“What do you suggest we do, not search for the Jem’Hadar?” Ardit asked, a fine smattering of scorn in his voice.

“No,” Glover said. “I say we call him out.”

“What?”

“Call him out,” the captain repeated.

“Excuse me?”

Terrence sighed. “The Jem’Hadar are warriors, first and foremost. If he feels his honor has been questioned, he will respond.”

“The Jem’Hadar are soldiers of the Dominion, genetically programmed to worship their Founders,” Ardit repeated. “Perhaps his mission is to disrupt the peace conference and he has chosen to do it by stealth.”

“Maybe,” Glover shrugged, his nonchalance belying his words. “But I don’t buy that. Besides there aren’t any Founders around to give him orders, and he’s got to be frothing with revenge for the way we slaughtered his buddies. Restraint isn’t a Jem’Hadar strong suit.”

“When you did you become such an expert on the Jem’Hadar?” Ardit challenged. Glover pulled up to his full height, just reaching the base of the Alshain’s throat. The captain glared up at him regardless.

“I’ve killed more Jem’Hadar than you care to know,” Terrence said.

“And you regretted each death I’m sure, in human fashion,” Ardit replied.

“No, I did not,” Glover said, hating the coldness in his voice, but he couldn’t lie. He had stopped caring about the lives he took to defend the Federation for quite some time, and now with Pedro’s death and Pell injured, his heart had never been blacker.

Ardit pulled him short, his ears drooping slightly as if he was seeing Glover for the first time. “You are serious?”

“Am I smiling?”

“You humans never cease to surprise me,” the War Minister shook his head.

“I’m glad we keep you amused,” Terrence quipped.

“Perhaps I was wrong to advise the Exarch not to join the Alliance. Though Earth’s history is replete with bloodshed, I had thought the thirst had been leached out of your kind for centuries now.”

“We…, well most, of us don’t enjoy what we have to do in this war, but we do it regardless. We owe our families nothing less.”

Ardit nodded solemnly, “Well spoken. What is the Klingon phrase, ‘Die Well’?”

“Something like that, but I don’t have any intentions of doing that any time soon,” the captain remarked.

The War Minister chuckled, “Of course not, captain. You may try your approach.”

Glover nodded. He stepped forward, and cleared his throat. Raising his voice, he called out, “Where are you? I know you’re here, near the ship’s armory, and I know you’re shrouded, hiding like rodent! Come out and face me! I want to add your carcass to my growing collection of Jem’Hadar hides!” The captain paused, waiting a few moments. He glanced at Ardit and the Alshain gave a most humanlike shrug. The captain squared his shoulders and began again.

The taunting did nothing but reverberate off the walls. After a few more moments Glover stopped, feeling slightly embarrassed. He turned to Ardit. “Either he’s not here or he’s more of a coward than I thought.”

“War Minister!” The guard at the point position reared up on his hind legs. He pulled at the rifle slung across his back, but before he could fire at the Jem’Hadar that had just shimmered in front of him, the gray-skinned warrior put a hole through him.

“Bingo,” Glover muttered as he reached for the disruptor in his holster. The Jem’Hadar took aim at Ardit next and the captain jumped in front of him as the other Alshain warriors leaped en masse at the soldier.

“I don’t need your protection,” Ardit huffed. But Glover noticed that the War Minister didn’t move away from him. The Jem’Hadar began a whirl, in one hand his disruptor barked fire and in the other, his kar’takin sliced through armor and fur. Completing his swirl, he stood alone. Four more Alshain warriors lie dead or dying at his feet. Terrence was stunned that the Jem’Hadar had been untouched. He knew he would have to do something to remedy that. The Jem’Hadar snarled, and Glover did likewise.

The captain aimed his weapon and fired. The weapon hit the Jem’Hadar point blank in the chest. The energy dissipated, rippling along the creature’s chest. “What the hell?” Glover asked. The soldier moved forward, a smile etching across his hardened features.

Glover fired again, and again. But the Jem’Hadar absorbed the energy. Was it some type of personal shield? Glover’s mind raced. No, it appeared like the Jem’Hadar had rippled along with the energy. But how could that be? Were his eyes deceiving him? Could whatever energy field surrounding the warrior be creating an optical illusion? The Jem’Hadar was almost upon him. Glover roared and charged forward, shifting the disruptor around to grasp its barrel. He would use it as a bludgeon instead. The Jem’Hadar warrior took a defensive position, his polearm at the ready.

“Computer, end program,” Ardit said dryly. Glover’s weapon sliced through thin air. He stumbled in the attempt to both slow his momentum and maintain his footing.

He turned on the War Minister. “What the fuck just happened?”

A disruptor was in Ardit’s hand, and it was aimed at the captain. “I couldn’t have our creation gut a Starfleet captain….especially when I have much bigger plans for you.”

“Like hell you do,” Terrence declared. “Once I finish whooping your ass I’ll get to the bottom of this.” He charged. Ardit fired.
********************************************************************

USS Diadem
Main Bridge

Lt. Daf moved quickly, his fingers running across his flattened console. The Trill tried to block out the shouts and yelps from various bridge crew members as the shape-shifter wearing Captain Tallis’s face continued her killing spree. “Done,” he breathed in relief, seconds before the Changeling pierced his chest.

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

Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Command Salon

Queen Symea stood on the bridge, at its prow. Alone. Ensign Juanita Rojas knew what grief looked like, all too well lately, and she was tempted to walk over and inquire how the consort was. However, she was afraid that Symea might take her compassion as a sign that Juanita thought she was weak and bite her head off. Literally. So, she stuck to the task at hand.

Juanita had convinced the Queen that a full sensor sweep of the ship might yield a clue about the Jem’Hadar’s whereabouts. Nauarch L’Dac had already ordered a full diagnostic of the ship’s systems to determine if any more had been sabotaged after the turbolift accident. That search was still ongoing.

Juanita had parked herself at one of the console, squinting her eyes to try to divine the alien script as best as she could. So far she hadn’t found much, or at least she hoped she hadn’t, and just missed it.

“Admiral,” one of the Science Officer’s said, waving a frantic hand. “I’ve found something!” Everyone on the bridge turned to the salt-and-peppered female. L’Dac leaped out of his seat, landing gracefully on the upper command deck. Queen Symea was almost right on his heels, despite her injuries. But Juanita beat them both. She glanced over the other woman’s shoulders, her eyebrows knitting at the energy readings. They seemed familiar.

“What have you found Oyan?” He asked briskly.

“Some unusual low level power readings, and they are running throughout the ship,” she said. “They weren’t a part of our schematics. Are they part of an upgrade?”

L’Dac rubbed his chin. “None that I am aware of?”

“Did you order these modifications?” Symea turned to Vizier Topal.

He shook his jowly head. “No my Queen.” She turned back to L’Dac.

“What are they?”

“The readings are consistent with holographic imaging technology,” Juanita said, proud that she had remembered the signatures from a paper Pedro had written on the subject. He had been a proponent of spreading holographic imaging technology throughout starships, allowing Emergency Medical Holograms full access. Starfleet hadn’t implemented the procedure, but it appeared that the Alshain had. Or at least the Vyras had been equipped with them.

“Why is this important?” Symea focused her attention on Juanita. The young woman gulped before replying.

“On Starfleet vessels holographic figures are restricted to areas with holographic emitters…but on your vessel, holographic emitters have been spread throughout the ship.”

“Why would this upgrade be necessary, and who authorized it?” Symea roared, angling around the bridge so that everyone could experience her ire. Most shrank back, but curiously Vizier Topal strode forward. The man’s whole demeanor had changed. The nervousness had been replaced by a swagger that Juanita hadn’t thought the man could ever possess.

“In order to do this,” he said. “Computer, activate program.” Several Jem’Hadar soldiers materialized on the bridge. The fake Jem’Hadar grabbed Juanita. She struggled against the photonic replicas but to no avail. The Jem’Hadar simulacrums had even gotten the jump on Symea. Two held the woman and a third held a blade at her throat.

The Queen snarled. “Topal!” She roared. “I’ll eviscerate you for this. Your entrails will flavor the broth I’ll make of your blood.”

Topal chuckled. “There was a time when females kept their place,” he said wistfully. “Under Exarch Jasta, women would’ve never displayed such impudence. With the misguided Jedalla on the throne, so many of our old ways have been tossed to the winds. And now he wants to complete the destruction of our civilization by making war with the Dominion!”

“Topal, I knew you were an obsequious toady, but I never took you for a traitor. You have brought shame and dishonor upon your Sept,” L’Dac said. “And this revolt ends now.”

Topal grinned. “You’re forgetting that the Queen transferred authority to Lady Diellza and I can assure you that she’s an agreeable sort.”

“The Unguis are involved too!” Symea’s stunned expression showed a rare glimpse of vulnerability. Topal inhaled it. “And what of the Peerage?”

“D’Noth is an old fool,” Topal said. “I couldn’t risk him running back to Exarch Jedalla with our plan. However, I’m sure we can buy his complicity.”

“And how could you do that?” Symea asked skeptically.

“By ending the blood feud with Sept L’Dac, and giving him the admiral’s territory and holdings,” the Vizier said coolly.

“I will never assent to that,” The Nauarch declared.

“Dead men have no say in the matter,” Topal said blithely. He glanced at one of bridge officers and they stood up. He pulled his sidearm from its holster and took aim. L’Dac stared the man down.

“Stop this! Don’t do this! It’s mutiny,” Juanita snapped, “Don’t you have any honor! He’s your commander for God’s sake!”

“Muzzle the cub,” Topal commanded. Scaly hands covered Juanita’s mouth. She tried biting the fingers, but the photonic soldiers had probably not be programmed to feel pain.

“End it,” Topal commanded and the man did. A hushed, frightened pall hung heavy in the air. “Now, where were we?” Topal clapped, and sat down in the dead admiral’s command chair.

“You’ll pay for that, and all of this,” Symea promised.

“Why should I? I’m not responsible for this unfortunate incident and the ones that are still to come,” Topal declared.

“If you are not to blame, then who is,” Symea said, struggling vainly against the Jem’Hadar. “Because I would certainly like to meet him.”

“You already have,” Topal said.

“What?”

“I said you already have,” Topal said; Juanita could hear the twisted merriment in his voice.

“Who is it?”

“Why it’s Captain Glover.”
********************************************************************

USS Diadem
Optical Data Network Station
Deck Three

The damned Remans had decided to make another go at a stand right outside the ODN room. Milon had hastily ordered his men to take up positions, but his mind was on the Founder on the bridge and the havoc it was wreaking. From there, it could destroy the ship. He just hoped that Warrant Officer Zoll and Payne got there in time to do something about it. But the Benzite wondered if they could really do much at all against a shape-shifter.

Milon used his exographic targeting sensor to gaze through the wall he was propped against. The Remans had spread out along the hall, taking up positions behind several bulkheads. It was going to be hard to root them out. “Great Dome Maker”, he muttered. Two Remans were trying to pry open the door to the ODN room. “We can’t have that now, can we?” Milon asked to no one in particular. He took aim and felled the two would be interlopers. Their deaths brought on a new round of firing from the Remans. Milon jumped back from the wall, the metal and plastics suddenly growing uncomfortably warm, but they were a long way from turning into slag.

“Let’s hit them back,” Guard Tart chopped at the bit to return fire.

“Being reckless could get you killed right now,” Guard Leach admonished. “Calm down rookie,” she added.

“You’ve only been on active duty for two months longer than I have,” Tart shot back.

“Two months on a ship at war,” Milon said sternly. “Do as she says and keep your emotions in check.”

“Yes sir,” Tart said grudgingly. Leach smiled at Milon, flicking a hand through her luxuriant red hair. The Benzite turned away quickly. He realized that Leach had been paying more attention to him lately and she had begun engaging in what humans called flirting. It was very disconcerting to Milon. He just hoped if he ignored her changed behavior that it would revert back to the way it had been. Another round of fire filled the hallway. Milon took another look through the wall with his sensor. The intense heat interfered with his readings, but it appeared that the Remans had been joined by others. A mass of dark shapes had joined the Remans.

“This just got a lot harder,” Milon muttered.

“What has happened?” Leach asked, now all business.

“The Remans have gotten reinforcements,” Milon hated to admit.

“We’ve got to move now, storm them before they do the same to us,” Tart said.

“I agree sir,” Guard Yu added. Leach nodded.

“We can’t sit here like sitting ducks,” she said.

“But the casualties,” Milon said. “They’ll have the superior position. They can pick us off one by one.”

“But we’ll have surprise going for us, and we’re better trained,” Tart said. “Some of else might not make it, sure, but we all signed on knowing that.”

The Benzite looked again at Leach. She bit her lip and then looked away. Her head turned away from him, she whispered. “I think he’s right sir.”

“All right,” Milon said, motioning with his free hand. “We go, in a staggered formation.” He traded his rifle and sensor with Yu. He took her phaser. “I want you holding back and these might come more in handy to you.”

The young woman nodded. “Yes sir.”

“I guess it’s no time like the present for a mad charge,” Milon tried to joke.

“Was that a joke, sir?” Leach asked, smiling.

“Something like that,” he stiffly confessed.

“You’ve got to work on your comedic skills,” the woman said.

“Maybe you can give me a few holodeck suggestions,” Milon said, realizing too late that he had stepped into it. Leach brightened.

“I sure will sir.” The Benzite shrugged. He realized too late that he had just made date. At the moment human dating rituals were the least of his worries, Milon tried to maintain perspective. Besides, if he survived the next few hours, going on a date with Leach might be more preferable.

“Those Remmies are far too quiet,” Tart said. “I think they’re up to something.”

“Let’s go, now,” Milon said tersely. The security detachment swung out from their hiding places, their weapons at the ready.

A group of ragged, bloody Romulans stood in the middle of the hallway. “What kept you so long?” A female Romulan asked. She wiped her blade on the Reman corpse she was crouching over.
********************************************************************
 
A game is a foot and Glover is going to be oh so mad once he gets a chance to get even. Ardit will wish he was never born...for two seconds or so.

And who would have ever thought we'd be glad to see the Romulans.

Great stuff, let's see more.
 
You're throwing us one twist after the next, keeping the excitement level way up.

The holographic Jem'Hadar are a nice touch. Also, one would imagine, pretty damn hard to kill. I bet Glover will find a way. And he better does so before they can blame this entire nasty affair on him.

I liked that the Romulans showed up to the party. Another unexpected twist.

Really having a blast reading this!
 
********************************************************************
Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Command Salon

A hard slap brought Terrence to wakefulness. “What happened?” He asked groggily. His tongue was swollen and his mouth was dry as sandpaper. He squinted through at the painful lighting. “Ardit,” he muttered.

“I’m here,” the War Minister said.

“So are we.” The faraway voice sounded like Pell’s. He felt pressure against him, and spidery touch running across his hand. Glover tried to move his arms and realized he was bound.

“Pell?” Glover asked hopefully.

“I’m beside you Terrence,” Pell whispered, though her voice actually sounded louder to him this time. He felt her warm breath on his check.

“I’m on the other side sir.” It was Juanita. She rustled behind him. Thank God they were both alive, he thought. He realized the trio was sitting on the floor in the well of the command salon. Shadowed, indistinct shapes that had to be their captors towered over them.

“Silence,” the command was harsh. Glover opened his eyes wider, focusing on the origin of the venomous voice. It was the Vizier. Topal.

“You and Ardit, you’re in this together?”

“I would feel disappointed if you didn’t know of my role as well human,” Lady Diellza stepped into his view. She looked down on him with scorn. “I gladly supplied the holographic generators to pull off our plan.”

“Where’s the queen?” Pell asked.

“Spending her last moments of life with the Exarch; we aren’t heartless after all,” Topal said.

“Why are we still alive?” Glover asked.

“We have plans for you,” Ardit replied. The captain shook his head.

“I would never follow scum like you,” Terrence declared.

“If you value the lives of your colleagues you will,” Lady Diellza warned.

Pell laughed. “Do you really think we’re dumb enough to believe you’ll let any of us live?”

Diellza growled low in her throat. She moved toward the laughing Bajoran but Ardit restrained her.

“Calm yourself milady,” he admonished. “Act accordingly to your station.” Diellza snorted loudly in frustration, but then backed away.

“Whether you comply or not, it doesn’t matter. We’ve already mapped your likeness and can replicate a holographic copy of you to do our bidding.” The Vizier said.

“And what would that bidding consist of?” The captain asked, though he had a pretty good idea what the conspirators were up to.

“Your replica will assassinate the royal couple, negating the need for the Exarchate to join the Federation Alliance. You will be taken back to Alshain Proper for trial and execution.”

Diellza gleefully added, “Actually we’re just going to hand you over to the Dominion, a sign of faith that we will abide by our non-aggression treaty. Our Dominion contact has already expressed interest in meeting you Captain Glover. To accommodate her wishes we have already reversed course.”

“This isn’t going to fly, Starfleet won’t just accept your explanation,” Glover asserted, “And they’ll see through your ruse.”

“How can you be so certain of that?” Diellza smiled. “When you arrived, it was a boon for us Captain Glover. We had intended to pin the murders on Captain Covey, but her honored status among many of our people might’ve made convincing them of Covey’s perfidy difficult. Not so you, not after we release a record of your actions, particularly during this war, and your psych evaluations provide all the ammunition we require to peg you as a man that succumbed to terrible stresses and suffered a psychotic break.”

Glover roared, throwing himself against the restraints. “I’ll kill you! You had no right, no right to…how did you get access to my private files?”

“I’m Unguis,” Diellza said, the only explanation she felt was necessary. “Our people might even come to pity you…in time.”

“Besides I think Starfleet has greater concerns at the moment like holding off the Dominion than investigating a rogue captain,” War Minister Ardit said. “In a few months the Federation won’t even exist.”

The comment spiked the captain’s anger. He strained against his binding. “You son of a bitch!”

“Yes,” Ardit shrugged. “Is that supposed to be an insult on your planet?”

“Why Vizier Topal, have you done this? You have served the royal family for decades,” Pell asked, her curiosity overlying her disgust.

“I serve Sept O’Jinn still,” Topal quietly intoned.

“I don’t understand,” Pell remarked.

“It is not for you to comprehend,” Topal retorted. “Be grateful that we have revealed this much to you. I thought it was the least we could to inform you that your deaths will save billions of Alshain lives.”

“And doom the Alpha Quadrant in the process,” Glover added.

Diellza glared. “I’ve heard enough from you. Guards remove them to holding cells.”

******************************************************************
USS Diadem
Main Bridge

Zoll had already made his peace with his family before he dropped from the ceiling, from one of the crawlspaces crisscrossing the bridge. He rolled immediately as he hit the hard deck, disappointed that he grunted in pain. At the end of his roll, he came up and swept his weapon around. The Founder, its shoulders and head resembling Captain Tallis but the rest of its body was an undulating mass of golden viscous fluid. “Mr. Zoll, so good of you to come,” it said, one arm flying out to bat his gun away, and cracking his fingers in the process. The end of the other arm formed into a spear, and it punctured his shoulder, pushing through meat and bone as the Changeling drove him against a wall.

Zoll clenched his teeth to prevent himself from screaming in pain. “How do you unlock the central computer?” The Tallis-thing asked. It twisted the blade after Zoll refused to answer. He screamed out, cursing himself for his weakness. The shape-shifter twisted the blade again. “Answer me.”

“Screw you!” The Zaldan yelled. Despite the agony, he relished the use of one of his favorite human expression.

“You brought this on yourself Zaldan,” The Changeling said. A knot formed on the spear-arm, morphing into a spindly smaller version. The Founder aimed it at Zoll’s stomach. He steeled himself for disembowelment. “You can stop this,” the creature was using the captain’s voice. It enraged him further.

“Do your worst,” he said.

The Changeling sighed. “You will come to regret those words.” It aimed the arm towards Zoll’s stomach. He tried to break free from the arm holding him to the wall, but his strength was waning and the pain too immense. The blade-arm nicked his stomach. Zoll flinched.

“Care to speak…” The Founder said before the bullet punched right through the center of its forehead. Zoll barely moved his own head in time before the bullet pounded through the wall, bits of metal and plastic pelting the Zaldan’s face. The Changeling staggered backward, yanking its spear-arm free of Zoll’s shoulder. The Zaldan yowled and fell to one knee. He touched the gushing wound, his fingers quickly becoming drenched with his blood.

He glanced in the direction of the captain’s ready room. A neat hole marred one of its doors. The doors swished open seconds later and Officer Payne strolled out. “I got him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Zoll said, struggling to his feet. The shape-shifter was in a gelatinous pool in front of him, writhing and reforming. “We don’t have much time.” He propped himself against the wall for support. He waved at the weapon’s locker inset into a wall along the upper aft deck. “Photon grenades , and anything else that might blow this thing away, get them.”

“I’m on it,” Payne said. But he stopped and threw his rifle to Zoll. The Zaldan caught it one-handed and turned it on the coalescing Founder. A hand shot out from the pool, grabbing the rifle and yanking it from Zoll’s grip. It threw the weapon at Payne, clocking him in the back of the head. The man fell forward, crashing onto the upper deck. Now Zoll couldn’t see his prone body behind the elevated platform’s consoles. The Changeling took humanform rapidly, but this time it dispensed with the Tallis charade. It stood before him, a golden being with blunt, almost nonexistent facial features.

“If you do not unlock the computer I will destroy this vessel,” the Founder promised.

“You’re going to do that anyway,” Zoll retorted.

“I will spare you, if you comply,” the Changeling replied.

“No.”

“If I can’t get the information from you…perhaps from the human,” the Founder turned toward the upper deck.

“Oh no you don’t,” Zoll reached for the alien’s neck, but his hand passed through a glob of squishy fluid. The creature’s face formed on the back of its head. And his body shifted without turning around.

“You have become tiresome,” The Founder said. Zoll felt only a sharp sting for only a second and then nothing as the creature lanced his brain.
*******************************************************************
USS Diadem
Optical Data Network Station

“Damn,” Guard Jorianna Leach smashed her hand against the console. “We’re locked out.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Milon replied. He stood over the flustered young woman. “It means that the Founder doesn’t have access to our core systems.”

“Unless he is the one that locked us out,” Decurion Mucius replied, folding his arms across his broad chest. After the Romulans had introduced themselves it hadn’t taken Mucius long to get under Leach’s skin.

“How do you know it’s a he?” Leach couldn’t stop herself.

“That isn’t any of your concern,” Sublieutenant Pugio stepped forward. Mucius averted his eyes.

“I think it might be,” Milon stepped forward. “Full disclosure might help us gauge what the Changelings motives be and what actions it might take to further them.”

Mucius laughed. “The thing is heartsick.”

“What?” Both Leach and Milon asked.

Pugio gritted her teeth. “Are you familiar with the Hundred?” Both Starfleet crewmen shook their heads. The Romulan officer sighed. “The Hundred were Changeling infants sent into space by the Dominion to collect information about other species. Have you heard of the Security Officer on your Deep Space Nine?”

“Constable Odo, of course,” Milon said. When Leach shrugged, Milon frowned at her reproachfully.

“Sorry, but current events aren’t my bag,” the human female said.

“Odo was one of these Hundred. We discovered another…in the Hibernia System. We captured it and was transporting it back to Romulus to study. However, we didn’t realize it had a mate. The creature impersonated one of our Reman overseers and sowed the seeds of mutiny among the slaves, all in an effort to free its beloved,” Pugio said, a sneer growing on her face. “The commander gave his life to ensure that the creature’s insurrection would not be rewarded.”

“Oh God,” Leach covered her mouth in shock. “It isn’t a Founder?”

“Of course it is,” Pugio said. “It possesses the same genetic stock. The research we could glean from studying it might provide us with a weapon to end this war once in for all.”

“Not only do you practice slavery, you captured two noncombatants, murdered one, and want to use the other for a bioweapon,” Leach charged, her face flushing with heat. “What kind of monsters are you?”

“Monsters that will still be standing when this war has concluded,” Pugio said. “I wonder if the Federation, with its oversized and outdated ‘morality’ will be able to do what is required to bring a relentless foe like the Dominion to heel. It will require that we be more ruthless.”

“Not at the price of losing our souls it won’t,” Leach shot back.

Pugio shrugged, in seeming imitation to the far more smug Mucius. “Our deities have no problem with victory.”

“Enough of the recap and discussion of afterlives,” Milon said. “I think we might be able to help out Misters Zoll and Payne after all.” All eyes, including Jorianna’s, turned to the Benzite.

“The ODN system controls data transfer to the central computer core,” the Benzite began.

“Access to the core had been blocked,” Mucius pointed out, but Milon ignored him. A hard stare from Sublieutenant Pugio silenced the burly Romulan from speaking again.

“Not completely,” the Benzite said. “We don’t have access to major systems, but secondary systems, such as auxiliary transporters, we do.”

“I don’t follow you,” Leach said.

“If we can get a lock on the shape-shifter, we can beam him out into space,” Milon said.

“Impossible, the shape-shifter can mimic even inanimate objects down to the molecular level, and they can also survive space. What’s to say that it doesn’t attach itself to the hull, bore its way back in and kill us all,” Pugio said, shaking her head as if her suggestions should be obvious.

“What do you propose?” Milon asked stiffly. Leach could see that the Benzite was making a herculean effort to maintain his poise.

“That we reconfigure one of your transporter beams to emit a quantum stasis field,” Pugio suggested.

“Why?” Milon beat Jorianna to the punch.

Pugio looked at Mucius. The Decurion frowned but nodded for her to continue. “We have…developed a way to stop a Changeling from morphing. As long as it stays within range of the field, its powers will be severely depleted.”

“Don’t tell me this is the first time the Star Empire has shared this information with us, because that’s the way it sounds to me,” Leach. Milon scowled, and Jorianna shut up.

“It isn’t,” Pugio said in clipped tones.

“If you can do it, if you can trap the Changeling, then please do so,” Milon stepped aside. Leach gave up her seat and Pugio slid quickly into it. With Leach’s guidance, Pugio input the commands to create a stable field.

“Excellent,” Milon nodded. He moved to another terminal. “I will reroute this to the nearest transporter. “It should only take…there.”

“What are you waiting for,” Pugio said. “Activate it.”

“I already have.”
********************************************************************
 
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