Dark Territory: Pandora's Jar

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
Cardassian Vessel
Command Bridge

It was times like this that Lt. Tai Donar was glad that his central nervous system had been altered to suppress the fear response. Despite that alteration, the Angosian felt claustrophobic, in the sepulchral bridge. He swept his wrist lamp around the dark bridge, and the light captured corpses at every turn. Donar was no stranger to death.

He had been surrounded by it since his youth, and its shadow would surely cloud his days until it claimed him. Tai had made his peace with his fate a long time ago, but still even he was unprepared for the carnage on the Cardassian vessel. Most of the bodies were headless, their flesh and armor covered with a thick coating of black mold. Most of the mold looked desiccated, not the kind shiny and pulsing with fungi covering Lt. Dindral.

“This ship’s name is the Gianour,” Junior Science Officer Iyara said, after accessing the ship’s computer from an aft terminal. Even through the EVA comm system, the Deltan’s voice sounded sultry.

Donar pushed thoughts of the woman’s attractiveness to the side. “Have you accessed the logs yet?”

“Not yet sir,” Iyara said, disappointment now evident in her voice. “The Cardassian language is providing some barriers.”

“Keep working through them,” Donar replied curtly. “The sooner we find out what happened to this crew, the sooner we can help in Lt. Dindral’s recovery.”

“Understood,” The Deltan said before turning back to the console. Donar turned to the rest of the away team. Ensign Farrier was going over the flight control console, trying to decipher the vessel’s flight plan. And Nurse Alajos was hunched over another terminal, attempting to access the ship’s medical data. The tall, rangy Bolian stood up after a few minutes.

“What’s wrong?” Donar could read the nurse’s pensive posture.

“I would like to go to Sickbay,” Alajos said. “I want to see the medical bay; from the records, the medical staff was working on an antidote. I would like to retrieve the samples.”

“Alright,” Donar said. “Once we’re finished here.”

“Acknowledged,” Alajos said before resuming his duties. There was one more member of the away team that Donar had to check on. Security Officer Payton was in the ship’s stateroom, situated off to the side of the command bridge. The door to the room had been slightly ajar when they had beamed aboard and Payton had stepped through the crack.

“Mr. Payton,” Tai called out. There was no response. He called the man again.

“Something’s wrong,” Iyara said.

“Perhaps Craig’s comlink is malfunctioning,” Alajos offered.

“Lt. Iyara, there were no life signs aboard when we transported over?” Tai asked, though he knew the Deltan had swept the command bridge twice before the team had settled in. Before that, Aegis’s sensors had scoured the Gianour.

“No sir,” Iyara repeated. Tai cradled his compression rifle. Ensign Farrier had already drawn his phaser and was approaching the stateroom’s entrance.

“Halt Mr. Farrier,” Donar barked. The younger man pulled up instantly. He turned around slowly and Tai could see the hint of a smile forming across the ensign’s lips.

“Sorry sir, I guess I got a little overeager.”

“I see,” Donar said, striding down toward the door. “Form up behind me Mr. Farrier.” Tai pushed the stateroom’s door all the way open, ignoring the screeching protest of the servos. He stopped so suddenly that Farrier stumbled into him.

“Everything all right sir?” Farrier asked, but Donar couldn’t speak. He was transfixed by the site before him. A skeletal Cardassian woman, her armor hanging from her emaciated frame, straddled a prone Officer Payton. The man’s helmet had been removed and the woman was bending down over his face, a thick black glob hanging from her lips.

“No, don’t!” Donar shouted, aiming his weapon at the Cardassian and firing. With spider-like agility, the woman jumped off Payton and the phaser bolt punched into the desk behind them. The woman stood, glaring at them, her eyes taking on an unnatural sheen in the room’s wan light.

She pointed a bony finger at him. “You…are worthy.”

“What?” Ensign Farrier stole the words from Tai’s mouth. The Cardassian’s neck bones rattled as she shivered. She shifted her finger to the younger man.

“You…unworthy,” she grinned, the black liquid wiggling like a malignant tongue from her lips.

“What the hell does that mean?” Farrier couldn’t hide his anxiety. “Lieutenant, what is she talking about?”

“Who are you?” Donar asked, ignoring the ensign. He kept his rifle on the woman.

“You know soon enough,” the Cardassian said, stepping towards them.

“Stop, or I will shoot,” the Angosian warned.

“Once you feel the embrace of Unity everything will make sense,” the woman promised.

“Not likely,” Donar said. “This is your final warning.” The Cardassian kept advancing. He adjusted the stun setting and angled the rifle so that the first shot would graze her shoulder, not a fatal blow, but enough to incapacitate her. The woman wasn’t fazed. Tai increased the stun setting and fired again. The Cardassian merely grinned, the ooze spilling from her lips.

“Shit,” Farrier muttered, hitting the woman square in the chest. The blast was a killing blow. It pierced her loose cuirass, leaving a hole through her torso. The woman paused. She glanced down at the hole and then looked up at them again.

“There’s no escape,” she said. “We are legion.”

“Escape this,” Farrier said, his next blast disintegrating the Cardassian’s head. Black goo splattered over Tai’s visor and pelted his EVA suit. He wiped the ooze away with a gloved hand, but it left thick smears across the faceplate, obscuring his vision.

“Sorry about that sir,” Farrier said. But Donar was already moving toward Payton. He bent down, careful not to touch the man with his mold encrusted glove. Tai gave the downed man a once over.

“He’s alive,” Donar said, relieved. Before he had Payton moved Donar wanted Alajos to take a look at him. He tapped the communicator. “Donar to Alajos.” There was no response.

He glanced back at Farrier, and the younger man started to fidget. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Donar to Iyara,” he tried next. He also didn’t get a reply. He tried Aegis next, and all he got static in response. The Angosian stood up. “Ensign, stay here with Payton. I’ll be right back.”

“Sir, do you think that’s wise? Going out there…alone?” The man’s voice squeaked. Donar paused to look back at him.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said. “Just stay here until I return.” Farrier just nodded.

Donar was very grateful for his suppressed emotions when he stepped back onto the command bridge. At least a dozen Cardassians were waiting for him. Similar to the woman Farrier had just killed, they were gaunt and their faces and other exposed flesh were covered in pus-filled pimples. To his dismay, he saw both Alajos and Iyara among them, their helmets off and their lips stained black. As one they said, “Join us.”
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
Alshain Starforce Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-Class

Sutahr R’Vort savored the last embers of the explosion. The vacuum quickly snuffed out the flames, but the captain would always remember the conflagration with wonder and pride. Her captive, Captain Brennan, remained on her knees, her body wracked with sobs, her tears splashing on the deck.

After conducting the last round of braying, Kveld Rask regarded the human, running his tongue over his lips. “No,” R’Vort said, catching the gesture. “She’s our prisoner. We are taking her back to Proper, where she will stand for her war crimes.”

“Of course,” Rask said, bowing his head. The man was clearly disappointed. R’Vort couldn’t fully blame him. In olden times, such a victory would be capped off with the consuming of the enemy leader. But those were savage times and the Alshain were more civilized now. Plus, R’Vort was sure that greater glory would come to her and her Sept if she brought back a Starfleet war criminal.

“Sutahr,” Oyan J’Leng said, “Our sensors have detected the warp trails of several escape pods.”

“What?” Weapons Officer P’Orus barked, his ears perking up.

“Elaborate,” R’Vort demanded, more annoyed with P’Orus’s outburst than the Sensor Officer’s revelation.

“The sensor readings might not be accurate pertaining to the exact number, but at least three escape pods escaped before we destroyed the Ariane.”

R’Vort noticed that Brennan’s crying had stopped. The woman sat up, on her knees, and wiped the tears away, “Yes,” she hissed. “Yes.”

Before R’Vort realized what she was doing, she raked her claws across the woman’s face with such force that Brennan’s neck popped. The woman convulsed before falling dead to the deck. R’Vort cursed. She had denied herself her own prize. But perhaps she could make up for it.

“Lock on to those warp trails as best you can,” R’Vort ordered. “We have more prey to pursue.”
********************************************************************
USS Urania
Main Bridge

Run, the remains of Commander Kapoor shouted somewhere deep inside the husk. She was looking at the Alshain vessel that had made an abrupt turn and warped away. They had been minutes away from seizing it, and the warship would have not withstood the assault of both the Urania and the Son’a vessel. There is no escape, the blackness welled up inside her, overtaking her again.

“Lay in a pursuit course,” Captain Rahul ordered. Though the Overmind spoke through them all at the same time, and the order had already been carried out.
********************************************************************

USS Baltimore
Captain’s Ready Room

“Ever heard of the Secret Order captain?” Lt. Commander Daruma asked, nonchalantly.

“The what?” Glover asked. He hated to admit it, but the question had been so left field that it had knocked him off his stride. “Care to run that by me again?”

“The Secret Order,” the Andorian repeated.

“No,” he answered truthfully, “But it wouldn’t be so secret if everyone knew about it now would it?”

“Your point is a cogent one,” Daruma conceded.

“I would like some reciprocity in that regard then,” Glover replied. He leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference; though his chest and shoulders were tight with frustration. He wanted to snap the Andorian’s head off, but he knew he had to keep his cool. He hadn’t figured out what type of game the woman was playing. She was afraid of something, but it certainly wasn’t him, or what he could do to her career.

“Of course, you shouldn’t know about the Secret Order,” Daruma said. “Even though you’ve come face to face with some of its members.”

“Really? And when was that? And what the hell does any of that have to do with that Romulan warship escorting us to the Inci Shipyards?”

“The Secret Order is a movement of disaffected Alshain nobles. They were the ones behind the assassination attempt on Exarch Jedalla a few months ago, which you played a large hand in thwarting.” She paused to see if Terrence would react to that news. To his credit, he didn’t. “The Order had wanted to scuttle the peace agreement between the Exarchate and the Federation, they had wanted to sign a non-aggression pact with the Dominion,” Daruma added.

Glover arched his eyebrows, a skeptical look on his face. He wasn’t skeptical of the assassination attempt revelation. His time on the Vyras had left him with the murkmaw infestation that had led him to being reassigned on the Baltimore. He was just in disbelief that Daruma would know so much about internal Alshain politics, and about this Order that Glover had never heard of, and its ties to the Dominion. “How do you know all of this?”

Daruma merely smiled. “The Order failed to stop the Exarchate from joining the Federation Alliance, but that did not end their association with the Dominion. The Dominion began helping the Secret Order build a fleet, in the Inci System. Of course, the war ended before the fleet could be completed. So the Order sought out a new partner to complete the armada, and they’ve recently found one.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Terrence said drolly.

“Familiar with the Tal Arcani?” Daruma asked.

“Yes,” Glover said, now on more familiar territory. “Romulan military intelligence. Aren’t they defunct?”

The Andorian nodded. “More like they were forcibly merged with the Tal Shiar, their rivals. Some of the old Tal Arcani operatives have never gotten over that, and see brokering an alliance with the Exarchate as a way to revive their fortunes.”

“An Alshain-Romulan alliance?” Glover remarked, the idea troubling him enough to break his cool pose. “You can’t be serious?” The war had devastated the three major powers, giving lesser powered nations like the Exarchate or Tzenkethi Coalition, outsized importance in the new galactic order. But if the Romulans had the Alshain backing them up, they could shore up their losses and leave the still recovering Klingon Empire inside a pincer. Both powers had strained relations with the Empire over the years. Glover could already imagine the hotheaded Klingons striking out at such a partnership, and the resulting reprisal might draw the Federation into another war. “Do you have proof of this? Of anything that you’ve claimed?”

“Captain, I guess it’s time for full disclosure,” the Andorian leaned forward. “This ship…isn’t what it appears to be, and neither am I.”

“I’m not following you,” Glover said, his frustration starting to get the best of him.

“This ship is…” Daruma paused, at once experiencing a loss of words, “is under the authority of Starfleet Intelligence.”

“What?” Glover spat. “SI doesn’t have their own ships.”

“That’s not quite true anymore,” the Andorian said. “That used to be the case, but over the years, and particularly during the war, we felt it was easier to have our own vessels to conduct missions so we could have less red tape.”

“I haven’t seen any change in policy, and something that momentous would’ve been debated by the Federation Council and Starfleet Command. I would’ve heard about it,” Terrence said, his brows arcing in disbelief.

“Oh there was debate, but it was all closed session,” Daruma said, “Need to know and President Santiago signed off on it.”

“I don’t believe it,” Glover said. “You need to come up with a better deception Commander.”

The Andorian shrugged. “I’m not lying to you. I shouldn’t be telling you this now, but during my confinement, I had a chance to study your record more carefully. I think you can be trusted.”

“You think I can be trusted?” Terrence scoffed. “That’s rich.”

“Listen Captain,” Daruma leaned forward, her expression intense. “Not everyone on Baltimore works for Starfleet Intelligence.”

“How many do?”

“That’s classified.”

“Here we go again,” Glover admonished.

“We believe that the Tal Arcani or other hostile elements also have agents aboard,” Daruma revealed.

“Now, you’re really stretching it,” Terrence said. “Starfleet members would never conspire with this Secret Order or the Tal Arcani, not against the Federation.”

“Captain, this is no deception,” Daruma was almost pleading now. “The war changed things, and led to the festering of a lot of corruption within the ranks. SI learned of this plot after Starfleet officers working for the Valerian cartels were apprehended. Not only are the Alshain and Romulans building a secret fleet, they are experimenting with polaric ion energy.”

“What?” Glover’s mouth gaped-open. Polaric ion particles were extremely unstable and prone to cause devastating subspace reactions. The particles could consume planets and create subspace fractures within seconds. Most research into polaric ion energy was halted after the destruction of the Romulan planet Chaltok IV. “But…that’s impossible. Both the Romulans and the Federation signed the testy ban treaty over a century ago.”

“The Alshain weren’t signatories,” Daruma pointed out, “and even if the Star Empire has pledged not to use polaric ion energy, the Tal Arcani, an organization that no longer officially exists, is not legally bound to respect that.” Terrence nodded, unable to escape the woman’s logic.

“So, you think there might be Starfleet officers, on board this ship, out to scuttle this mission?” The captain asked.

“I think they’ve already struck…Captain Garcia,” Daruma intimated.

“What do you mean?”

“Garcia was SI. He was to lead this mission, and then his mysterious reassignment,” the woman shook her head. “I doubt we will ever find his body.”

Terrence shivered. He wasn’t sure if the coolness of Daruma’s declaration, the idea of Captain Garica’s murder, or the fact that he was starting to believe the Andorian, was the cause of the tremor. “At first, I thought you were in league with the Secret Order and Tal Arcani,” Daruma revealed. “But once I was able to access your sealed records, I realized that wasn’t the case.”

“You accessed my sealed, classified, files?” Glover thundered. “How dare you!” Daruma shrugged:

“I had to be certain.” Glover held back his anger. He wanted to rage at the woman for the invasion of privacy but he realized much bigger things were in the offing here and he had to stay focused on them, if he intended to leave the Inci System alive.

“And what about our Romulan escort?”

“Commander Livana is Tal Shiar. She’s on our side.” Glover couldn’t help but grin.

“Never thought I would hear that one,” he joked. Even Daruma’s walls came down.

“I agree,” she admitted. “But the Tal Shiar sees the resurgence of the Tal Arcani as enough of a threat to actually want to work with us. Not to mention the Alshain experimenting with polaric ion particles. That could have devastating consequences for the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. If they are able to field polaric ion weapons, it could spark an arms race.”

“Or war,” Glover said more darkly, “Like you had suggested before. The Alshain are feeling their oats now, just imagine what could happen if they had even more superior weapons.”

“And if the Secret Order deposed the Exarch?” Daruma added. “There is at least a tenuous diplomatic tie with his regime. But for the Exarchate to fall into the hands of Dominion sympathizers?”

“Say no more,” Terrence said. “I’m returning you to active duty…on one condition.”

“And that would be?”

“I need to know who are the other SI agents aboard this vessel,” Glover declared.

“Sir, I…” Daruma paused, unable to continue.

“You’ve trusted me this much, why not all the way?” The captain said. The Andorian sighed, and lowered her head. Grabbing the ends of his desk, she steadied herself before regarding him again.

“Okay,” she said, and then spilled the names. This is too easy Terrence thought as he made mental notes for each name the Andorian ticked off. He knew she wasn’t giving him all the names, and he still didn’t trust her. The problem was, there was no one onboard Baltimore that he could trust, and Glover realized that his communications had probably been monitored all along so even reaching out to his friends was a risk. Daruma had stopped speaking for a few seconds when Glover asked,

“Is that all?”

“Yes sir,” Daruma said, looking him straight in the eye.

“Resume your duties,” he ordered. After the Andorian stood up, Terrence added, “I’ll be keeping my eye on you Commander.”

She dipped her head. “Understood.”

“If you’re lying to me about this….” he let the threat linger.

“I’m not,” Daruma declared. “I just wanted you to go into this mission with more information.”

“You’ve given me that,” Glover admitted. But you haven’t given me all, he realized.
*****************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

****************************************************************
USS Aegis
Main Engineering
Primary-Tertiary Hulls

“Commander Cherenkov sent me down here to find out the status of the new regenerative shield modifications,” Lieutenant Juanita Rojas said, with negative enthusiasm.

“Why couldn’t he just ask from the bridge,” Aquiel absently asked, looking up from the master display. As soon as she saw Rojas, she knew the answer. “This really isn’t about the status of the shields is it?” The confrontation she had been dreading for weeks was finally about to happen. She was just surprised that Ivan was perceptive enough, or nosy, enough to instigate it. And the Haliian wondered why now of all times.

“No,” Rojas grated.

“Let’s talk in my office,” Uhnari said, wincing at the pained expression that crossed Juanita’s face. If not for Pedro’s tragic self-sacrifice at Chin’toka, Aquiel’s office would’ve likely been his. The helm officer stalked off in the direction of Aquiel’s office. The Haliian composed herself before following her.

Once she closed the door, Aquiel offered Juanita a seat, but the fuming young woman chose to stand.

“I’m guessing the commander wants us to air out any differences before we take on the next phase of this mission,” Uhnari began.

“What problem sir?” A vein throbbed along the delicate curve of Rojas’s jaw.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Uhnari said, gushing in exasperation, “and please let’s not play games. You have my permission to speak freely.”

Juanita merely looked at her. Aquiel sighed. If it was up to her to do the heavy lifting she guessed she would have to. “I’m just trying to do my job Juanita; I’m not trying to replace your brother. I could never do that.”

“You got that right,” she snapped. Aquiel held back the acidic comment dripping off her tongue. Histrionics weren’t needed right now.

“Captain Glover thinks I’m good enough for the job, and that should be enough for you.”

“Well, it isn’t,” Rojas said. “Everyone knows your record-or lack thereof, and how you used your relationship with Commander LaForge to ease your way past more qualified applicants to get on the engineering fast track.”

“How dare you!”

“No, how dare you!” Juanita spat. “Perhaps if Pedro had had more qualified help, maybe he would be here today, but all he had was you.” Before Aquiel knew what she was doing, she slapped Juanita. The helmsmen jumped at Aquiel, but pulled back the last minute. Instead of attacking, Juanita merely grinned.

“Truth hurts huh?” Without waiting to be dismissed, she left.

“I’m sorry,” Aquiel whispered to a closed door.
******************************************************************
USS Aegis
Medical Bay
Secondary Hull

The tendrils around her mind recoiled from the empathic firewall Dindral established. She coughed, trying to speak. “Danger,” she rasped, still unable to sit up or even open her eyes. Shardha ran her tongue over her cracked lips.

“Lieutenant, what did you say?” She recognized Stavan’s voice. She was grateful that a Vulcan was attending her and his sharp hearing picked up her plea. She was screaming, but she knew he probably only heard a murmur. “How are you feeling?”

She tried to reach out again, but couldn’t move. The ooze was creeping around her defenses. “Kill…” She could feel the Unity surging on the Gianour, sweeping over her comrades. She knew it was coming and it would consume the entire vessel.

“Kill?” The medic’s tone was perplexed. “You aren’t in danger.”

“Me,” she barely got out before the darkness took her again.
*******************************************************************
CCV Gianour

Tai got off several shots before the creatures were on him, reaching for his helmet. He used his rifle for a club, bashing in the heads of as many of the Cardassians as he could. He fell back, wedging himself in the stateroom’s entrance. The EVA suit gave him limited movement, but he wanted to provide as much protection as he could to Ensign Farrier.

He pushed the throng forward, the close quarters preventing him from using his weapon. In seconds, it had been wrenched from his grasp. With a war cry, Donar lunged at the Cardassians, swinging and kicking wildly, forcing them back. He tried to avoid injuring Alajos or Iyara too badly, though they were also amid the masses that pressed the attack. And they had swarmed him again, and were dragging him down.

He heard the air sizzle, saw a bright flash, and then the closest Cardassian near him evaporated. Tai turned his head and saw that Ensign Farrier had stepped through the void. “Damn it, comply with my orders!” He spat, but the younger man wasn’t listening. He was picking off Cardassians with his phaser with such efficiency that they moved away from Tai and began to approach him.

The Angosian grinned. The guys would learn never to turn their back on him. He grabbed the nearest Cardassian, a female, and snapped her neck, and used the twitching body to knock back several other surging soldiers. He fought his way to stand beside Farrier. “Let’s get out of here, the turbolift should still work,” he said, gesturing to the lift doors on the upper deck.

“After you sir,” Farrier said. The two had almost made it to the lift when the sharp bark of a disruptor rifle froze Tai in his tracks. He turned around to check on Farrier and saw the darkened imprint of the man’s shape on the wall. The ensign had been incinerated without so much as a whimper.

Another shot sizzled right in front of him, but Donar held his ground. He eyed the shooter. It was Alajos. Or what had once been Alajos. Already pulsing dark spots moved beneath the pale blue skin of his face.

“Worthy,” the former nurse said. “You are worthy.”

“Is that so?” Tai asked, his anger almost choking his ability to speak. He gathered himself, crouching low, and flexing his muscles. “If you want me, then you’ve got me.” He declared before launching himself back down into the bridge’s command well.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

***********************************************************
USS Aegis
Private Quarters
Primary-Tertiary Hulls

“Come in,” Lt. M’Raow said. Lt. Rojas stormed in. The Caitian put her book away. She could tell by the look on Juanita’s face that her friend was going to need her undivided attention. “What’s wrong?”

Juanita plopped down on the couch, and M’Raow sat beside her. The human slumped her shoulders and sighed. “It finally happened.”

“What happened?”

“Commander Uhnari and I,” Juanita said, all the explanation that the Caitian needed.

“What happened?” M’Raow repeated.

“Commander Cherenkov sent me down to check on the status of our shielding,” Juanita began, “and everything just went to hell after that.”

“I see,” M’Raow said. She placed a hand over Juanita’s. “I’m sure it’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t think so,” Juanita shook her head. “I mean, damn it, M, this has been building for a long time. I’ve tried avoiding the woman, but it was like Cherenkov sent me down there on purpose or something.”

“I think you’re reading too much into that,” M’Raow said. “Believe me, the commander isn’t my favorite person right now after he picked his friend over me,” the Caitian intimated, “but how would he know about your feelings about Commander Uhnari?”

“Maybe he has access to my psych profile,” Juanita wondered.

“No,” M’Raow shook her head, “That’s confidential. And I don’t think Cherenkov is the type to go snooping around that like.”

“Still,” Juanita said, “Why did he send me? He could’ve just asked Uhnari directly?”

“Maybe he thought you needed a break,” the Caitian said. “We’ve all been working nearly non-stop, and a little fresh air can do wonders sometimes.”

“Well, not this time,” Juanita said.

“How bad was it?”

“Uhnari slapped me,” Rojas revealed.

“She what?”

“Yeah, things got heated, and she slapped me,” Juanita replied.

“This is serious,” M’Raow said. “Should I file charges?”

“No,” the flight controller shook her head, “No, I mean, I goaded her. I probably deserved it. I just couldn’t help myself, I mean; she’s sitting where Pedro should be. He would’ve loved working on this ship. He deserved it.”

“And you feel that Uhnari doesn’t?” Juanita just looked stonily at her. “Of course not,” M’Raow answered her own question.

“It’s…just so hard,” Juanita said, her eyes becoming moist. “I mean, with Verda expecting, and Pedro will never know his son. I thought time would heal this hole in my heart, but it only seems to be widening. Every day there’s a new reminder of how much I’ve lost, how much we’ve all lost because of the damned Dominion.”

“I know,” M’Raow said, pulling her friend close. Juanita didn’t resist. She held the crying Rojas for an indeterminate time before she heard Commander Cherenkov’s strong voice on the intercom.

“This is Commander Cherenkov. Is Lt. Rojas in your quarters?”

“Yes,” M’Raow answered.

“I need to see her in the captain’s ready room.”

“Uh sir,” M’Raow began.

“No,” Rojas whispered. “It’s okay.” She said, wiping her tears away. Speaking more loudly, she addressed the commander’s spectral voice. “I’m on my way.”
********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Ready Room
Primary-Tertiary Hulls

Lt. Commander Ivan Cherenkov really wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. He glanced at Lt. Commander Unhari. The woman was facing him across from the captain’s desk. She was standing, arms folded, with a steamed look on her face.

I’ve really stepped into it this time, Ivan realized. He had hoped to clear the air between Aquiel and Lt. Rojas. He didn’t need to be a counselor to realize that bad blood had been building between the two women since Chin’toka, and he had hoped to get it out of the way before they went further into the Maw. He wanted everyone sharp and focused only on the tasks at hand, but he realized that he might’ve made matters worse when Aquiel flew into his office and blasted him for meddling.

Lt. Rojas had just stepped into his office, when the bridge called for him. “Captain, long range sensors have detected four escape pods, Starfleet signatures.”

Thank God, he almost breathed in relief. He stood up, and tugged down his tunic. “Lt. Rojas, we’ll have to discuss this later.” The woman paused, her mouth open. “I need you and Commander Uhnari to accompany me to the bridge.”
********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Auxiliary Bridge
Secondary Hull

Lt. Commander Seb N’Saba was worried, but he did his best to hide it. “The away team has missed the check-in time,” he said. “Hail them.”

“We’ve lost contact with them,” Ensign Hightower replied from the Ops console.

“Lock on to their combadges and initiate emergency beam out,” N’Saba ordered.

“We can’t do that either,” Hightower replied.

“What?”

“Sensors can’t locate the communicators,” Hightower said.

“Is it possible they’ve been destroyed?” N’Saba muttered to himself.

“Excuse me sir?” Hightower asked.

“Nothing Ensign,” N’Saba said, “Lock on to their biosignatures then.”

“Sir,” Hightower said, troubled, “Sensors are only detecting one signature.”

“One?” Now N’Saba didn’t hide his concern. “What happened to the others?”

“I don’t know sir,” Hightower said, high strung. “I’m just reading an Angosian biosign, and it’s faint.”

“Beam Mr. Donar out now,” the Alshain snapped.

“Commencing,” Hightower paused. “Sir, reading a decompression on the Cardassian ships bridge.”

“Shift screen,” N’Saba ordered. The main viewer shifted to a view of the Cardassian ships main hull. A perforation had opened on the side of the ship’s bridge, and the saw several pieces of debris sucked out of the gap. “Enhance magnification.”

The sensors zeroed in on the small objects. “Oh God,” Hightower gasped. The items resolved into figures. One in a bulky EVA suit, Starfleet manufacture, and several others were Cardassians. Despite not wearing protective suits, the Cardassians were engaged in combat with the man in the EVA suit, who could only be Mr. Donar.

“Ensign Hightower, emergency transport. Keep them in the transporter buffer matrix until we can figure this out. And have Dr. Stavan on hand in the transporter room.”

“Aye sir,” Hightower said quickly. Her fingers flew across the console and the figures disappeared in a flash in seconds. “Transport successful,” the woman gushed with relief.

“Good job, you have the conn,” N’Saba said. He hopped from the seat and made his way to the turbolift. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
ASRV-2

The escape pod shook so violently that it threw Lt. Askew against the terminal. She looked out of the forward viewport. She grimaced in pain, but forgot all about her discomfort when she looked up. Rhonda’s hopes lifted exponentially. She saw the silver-white hull of a Starfleet vessel coming towards them.

“Someone just latched a tractor beam onto us,” Crewman LeBlanc remarked, wiping sweat from his brow. The cramped ASRV remained stuffy, despite the best efforts of the air conditioning system Askew had blasting. Rhonda looked from the harried young crewman to Dr. Kellas. The Ktarian medic merely shrugged, and the rest of the survivors looked both troubled and confused.

“That tractor beam hit us from the back, it can’t be the Starfleet ship,” Askew said.

“It’s not,” LeBlanc said moments later. “Sensors just confirmed…it’s an Alshain vessel.”

“Alshain?” Askew swallowed hard. “Hail the Starfleet ship.”

“Can’t,” LeBlanc replied quickly. He had already anticipated the request. “The Alshain are jamming us.”

“What’s the status of the other pods?” Askew then asked.

“The Alshain vessel doesn’t appear to have captured them,” LeBlanc said.

“Well, at least some of us might survive,” Rhonda said, throttling the pod’s thrusters. They whined with the strain, but the craft remained immobile. She resisted the urge to lower her head. The craft’s occupants looked to her for leadership now and she wasn’t going to let them down.

“Pierre, hail the Alshain vessel.”

“I already did,” LeBlanc said tightly. “They aren’t answering our hails.” Rhonda cursed softly before placing a hand against the frigid port glass.

“Our only hope is that Starfleet vessel,” she murmured, “And they might even be able to see us in this soup.”

“So close…yet so far away,” LeBlanc added. Askew smirked.

“I like you kid.”
********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Main Bridge
Primary-Tertiary Hulls

“Captain we are receiving a hail,” the Delta-shift Ops Officer informed him. Cherenkov had instituted a fourth shift to insure that the crew didn’t get complacent or despondent in this murk. Work would keep them occupied. “An autonomous survival and recovery unit…from the Starship Ariane. They are requesting immediate assistance.”

Lt. Commander Cherenkov stood up and made his way over to the console. “Tell them help is on the way and coordinate with the helm.” The Russian was glad that Juanita Rojas wasn’t on duty. The Alpha-shift pilot had been chilly with him since he had intervened in her knotty relationship with Lt. Commander Uhnari. He was trying to do both women a favor, by allowing them to air their grievances, but Ivan also could sense how Pedro’s death and the strained relations with the man’s sister had affected Aquiel, and certainly dredged up her insecurities. He needed her at optimum efficiency, but he also wanted to take one more burden off her mind.

“Aye sir,” the Ops Officer said, pausing a second, before adding. “Sir, we are receiving a distress call from another ASRV.” Ivan looked down and saw a blinking red light on the smooth panel. The Denobulan’s head shot up, her large, dark eyes troubled. “Captain, this ASRV says that an Alshain warship has latched onto a third ASRV.”

“Yellow alert,” Ivan called, “Raise shields.” After those orders had been carried out, he asked the Denobulan. “Did they supply coordinates for the Alshain ship.”

The Ops Officer smiled nervously. “Yes sir, they did,” she breathed with relief.

“Helm, take us there,” Cherenkov said sternly. He didn’t think he would be breathing with relief any time in the near future.
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

Nice to see that you found good use for the scene you discarded for Aegis' downfall. It works splendidly for the Arianne which comes to her doom here. I feel sorry for Captain Brennan but she's clearly brought this onto herself. Still, I don't like to see a Starfleet captain and ship being destroyed in such a manner. I hope Aegis will make them pay for it. If not them, then maybe this unstoppable legion that is Unity.

And talking about fighting Unity, what an intense zombie battle on the Cardassian vessel. Of course somebody didn't quite count on an Angosian super-solider in their midst.

And now we've got SI running their own ships. Glover has every right to be annoyed about this development but at the very least he's got the truth out of Daruma. Or at least some of it. I'd be interested to see how this develops.

I also immensely enjoyed the Rojas/Uhnari subplot which doesn't appear to be quite resolved yet. Nothing like a little bit of personal drama in the middle of more drama to add a little spice to events.

What a story!

 

[DarKush]

Cejay,

I'm really glad you're still enjoying the story. I definitely wanted to reuse the attack scene and decided to just insert the Ariane crew in there since I was planning on getting rid of the ship anyway.

I also am glad you liked the Uhnari/Juanita scene. I wrote that years ago, for the original "Aftershocks", which this story spawned out of, and I wanted to use it again. This story has gone through so many changes, originally it was entitled "Oumriel" and then "Rekindled", and then "Aftershocks", before I settled on "Pandora's Jar" and the cast and plot has changed quite a bit too. But I'm still trying to stick somewhat to what I had originally intended on developing Aquiel, and later on developing Ivan. But hopefully I can shed more light on Tai and Juanita as well.

The idea of SI having starships spun out of an idea from D'Noth's Indy series, where S31 has taken over at least one starship. I could see counter-31 elements or SI doing something similar.

I'm pleased that Unity is creeping you out, but to be honest, I'm not quite pleased with that side of the story so far. I'm sort of making it up as I go along. I haven't quite figured out its origin and motivation yet, and its possible that in the completed story that will be posted at the United Trek website, I will do some significant revisions if I'm still not pleased when I finish this draft up.

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Medical Bay
Secondary Hull

The darkness was winning. Shardha pressed her eyes tight against it, marshalling her empathic abilities to save a sliver of herself. She hoped if she could hold on to just a piece that she could ride out the black waves surging over her, that she could ultimately escape the cold embrace, that she wouldn’t be lost among the mass.

“No,” she screamed as the darkness pounded against her flickering shaft of light. They were so many, and they were so hungry. There was no way out, Dindral realized, except one. Even though she was only half-Betazoid, her mental disciplines still gave her enough control over her neural functions. She tried not to think about what lay beyond as she began to shut down her brain activity. She would trap the darkness inside her dead husk forever.
*************************************************

Dr. Stavan’s winced at Dindral’s screech. Not only was the sound unusually loud and completely unexpected due to the woman’s previous comatose state, but the Vulcan was certain he could detect notes of desperation and despair so deep that it chilled his green blood.

He rushed out of his office. A frightened nurse was already dithering over the twitching body of Lt. Dindral. The woman was gripped in a massive seizure. Her body pitched back and forth as if she were at war with herself. The nurse was hovering over the panel to shut off the quarantine shielding. Without a second thought, Stavan ordered, “Do it.”

His sharp command broke the nurse’s spell and she rushed to deactivate the protective shielding. Dindral’s back arched severely before she crumpled back to the bed. A mournful alert informed the medic that the woman’s bio-readings had just flat-lined. Stavan brushed by the nurse and ran to Dindral’s bedside. He ordered the nurse to bring the appropriate medicine and equipment to resuscitate the lieutenant while he applied CPR. Clammy hands reached up and seized his wrists in an iron grip. Stavan gasped, trying to step back, but he was rooted over Lt. Dindral. Still prone, her life signs still nonexistent, the lieutenant nonetheless spoke.

“Fresh meat,” she said.

“I don’t comprehend,” was all Stavan could muster.

“Let me show you,” Dindral yanked him forward as she rose up to give him a black kiss.
********************************************************************
Son’a Destroyer Ktynga
Command Salon

Ceven grumbled. “New life,” he said, but Erik Rydell already knew that. He had felt the life calling him as well. All of them had. In the embrace of Unity they all shared the same thoughts, but Erik also knew that the bonding was taking longer for the Bolian. Even he had his moments of emptiness as his immune system fought against Unity. Though there remained a defiant speck of him that considered such forsaken moments as clarity, or even freedom. Erik would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea if the Locus understood the concept of humor. Beyond the Son’a vessel’s elaborately framed viewscreen, Rydell could see two starships, one from Starfleet and the other belonging to the Alshain were facing off, with several escape pods caught between them.

“Arm weapon systems,” Erik found himself speaking. Ceven’s vocalizing had become infectious.

“Arming,” the Bolian said. Without the need for sensors, Rydell knew that the Urania had moved to intercept the Alshain vessel.

“Contact the Federation starship,” Rydell ordered.

“So that we can inform them of the gift we are about to bestow,” Ceven finished the statement, his voice purged of defiance. Ceven had finally accepted his place in the universe, he had finally accepted peace. And now Erik realized it was time to extend peace to those worthy of it.
********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Main Bridge
Primary-Tertiary Hulls

“A prudent decision, releasing the escape pod,” Lt. Commander Cherenkov observed.

“I care not for scraps, when I can feast on the main course,” his Alshain counterpart replied. “Federation starship, you have violated Alshain territory. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded.”

“Hmmm…no,” Cherenkov replied, a bit surprised by his flippancy. “Not going to happen.”

“We’ll see about that,” the Alshain commander bragged. “I’ve already cleaned my claws on one Starfleet vessel today and I look forward to digging into another.”

Ivan’s insides froze. “What did you just say?”

“Those escape pods,” the Alshain sniffed. “They are the last survivors from the Ariane, which we recently destroyed for the crimes they committed against the Exarchate. If you persist in obstructing our lawful apprehension of the remaining criminals, you will be charged as accomplices and similarly dispatched.” The commander smiled, “And I dare you to stand in our way.”

Cherenkov shook his head. The Alshain warship bristled with weapons but he knew the ship wasn’t a match for the ship’s regenerative shielding and ablative armor, or their full complement of quantum and photon torpedoes and phasers. The Russians knew that Alshain sensors were good enough to detect the Aegis’s systems. “Those are Starfleet officers and property. I am going to take them aboard my ship, see to their well being and then we can discuss these ‘charges’ further.”

“You will do no such thing,” the Alshain commander snarled. “If you do not power down your weapons and pull back, I will be forced to fire on you.”

“I don’t think it’s really going to take much force for you to do that,” Cherenkov grated. He could feel tension building on the bridge, but he ignored it. The Russian knew he should be deescalating the conflict, but he couldn’t help himself. His counterpart was a brazen, wanton murderer. She had just slaughtered hundreds of his colleagues and he wanted her to fire so he could slag her.

“Captain,” Aquiel hissed. The Haliian was occupying the seat beside him. “This isn’t helping.” Ivan merely nodded tersely.

“I know.” He spoke up for the Alshain to hear him. “So, what’s it going to be Sutahr?”

“Here’s my response,” She grinned.

“Alshain warship charging weapons,” Lt. M’Raow replied.

“Extend the ship’s shields to cover the escape pods,” he ordered.

“But sir, they aren’t in range,” Lt. Lister, at Ops, replied. “If we spread our shield protection too wide it will weaken our screen.”

“And you would prefer that the Alshain use the escape pods for target practice?” Ivan asked harshly. The young man gulped before shaking his head.

“No sir,” he said tightly.

“Then do it,” Cherenkov snapped.

“Aye sir,” Lister replied.

“Alshain vessel firing,” M’Raow informed them. Ivan ground his teeth as the shot crashed into the overtaxed shields. The ship rumbled.

“Damage?” He asked.

“No damage,” M’Raow said, relieved.

“That was a warning shot,” the Alshain commander’s image returned to the main viewer. “Surrender now or be destroyed.”

“I don’t surrender,” Ivan declared.

“You’re going to wish you had,” the Alshain promised.
********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Transporter Room
Secondary Hull

“Bring him in,” Lt. Commander N’Saba ordered. The crewman at the transporter panel ably captured Lt. Donar in a beam and resolved the flailing man on the transporter pad.

“Oh gods,” the Bolian replied. Donar’s suit was covered in black sludge and the large Angosian was crawling around on the pad, trying to pull the ooze from his EVA suit. In one of his turns, N’Saba saw that the man’s helmet had been punctured. As if reading his mind, Donar looked up. His face was pimpled and his eyes were as black as space.

“Worthy,” he spat, obsidian liquid dripping from his lips. He grabbed his head, grimacing in pain. “Run!” He managed to shout. “Run!”

N’Saba grabbed the Bolian roughly by the shoulder and tossed him toward the exit. He didn’t need to be warned a third time.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
Inci Shipyards
Administrator’s Office

Administrator Lord K’Ting grabbed his ample stomach as the belly laugh shook him. “I don’t see what is so amusing?” Commander Patrin Volok asking, his eyebrow arching in confusion. When K’Ting saw that, he laughed harder.

“Even thousands of years of separation can’t erase all your cultural ties to the Vulcans,” he said. Volok frowned. He grew suddenly serious. “Blood is a powerful thing.”

“And with these polaric ion weapons, we shall shed much of it,” Chieftain Crixus boasted. Volok grimaced at pale, bat-faced Reman. He hated being in the same room with the detestable creatures, much less pretending they were equals, but the Tal Arcani needed the foot soldiers the Remans could provide. It was taking everything in his power not to strip the chieftain of the importance he was given during the Dominion War and throw him into the nearest dilithium mine. Crixus and his intemperate ilk believed that Volok’s faction intended to actually grant them citizenship rights. Once the Tal Arcani wrapped its wings around the Empire once more, the Remans were in for almost as rude an awakening as the Tal Shiar, and all who had opposed him over the years. “Together we will usher in a new age of expansion for our empires.”

“First the Klingons,” K’Ting said with a snort.

“And then the Federation,” Crixus promised.

“But first…,” Volok paused, “We have all have domestic concerns.”

“Stop being so grim,” K’Ting admonished. He pushed the padd towards Volok through the mounds of paper on his desk. The young, golden pelted aide who had just brought in it looked eagerly after it as if it were escaping prey. K’Ting clapped the man on the shoulder with such force that it brought him almost down to the ground. “The last test was a success!” He beamed. “We can now proceed to field trails.”

Volok scooped the padd up and devoured its contents. He was so intrigued that he almost didn’t mind Crixus breathing down his neck as he also partook of the findings. “I don’t believe it,” he gasped. He turned to the already smiling Reman. “Prepare your vessel for modification. We’ll begin field testing immediately.”

“I’ll prepare for a drone,” K’Ting replied. He snapped his finger and the aide jumped to attention. The young man dashed toward the door, barely averting the other young officer hurtling through the door. K’Ting’s ears perked up. “What is it?”

“Sir, our outer perimeter sensory net detected an unusual transponder reading for an incoming Corvallen freighter.”

“So?” K’Ting huffed. The Corvallens made regular stops at the shipyards. They were one of the few traders that could be trusted to be discreet, for the right price at least. The officer tensed up at his strong reaction. “Leave!” K’Ting said. And the officer began to back out of the door. “Not you, him!” The administrator pointed at the aide who had been hanging around, trying to listen to what the officer had to report.

“Of course sir,” the man jolted to attention.

“Continue,” K’Ting ordered.

“The emissions weren’t consistent with the last dozen Corvallen vessels that visited the shipyards,” the officer replied. “The parameters were too perfect, and Corvallens aren’t known for their engineering proficiency.”

“I hope there’s more to this,” K’Ting said.

“I ordered periodic, more in depth scans of the ship as it makes its way toward the station,” the officer said. “The transponder signal is a fake.”

“What?” K’Ting nearly fell out of his seat. “How can you be sure?”

“What’s more,” the officer, with a renewed confidence, added, “We also detected a large energy distortion moving in concert with the false Corvallen ship. I ordered a tachyon scan and we believe there is also a cloaked vessel heading in our direction.”

“Can you be sure of this?” K’Ting demanded. “And why didn’t you inform me sooner?”

“I…had to be certain sir,” the officer said.

“No,” K’Ting pointed an accusing finger at him. “You wanted this glory to be yours alone. You wanted to advance your Sept!” The man stammered for a response.

“Why does it matter?” Volok cut through aristocratic feud. “We have to prepare to defend the station.” An icicle ran down the Romulan’s back. He was certain the cloaked ship belonged to the Tal Shiar. How had they found out? Where was the leak? And did they know he was behind the attempt to revive the Tal Arcani? His gaze hardened with purpose. He couldn’t be found out, no matter the cost.

“When will the ship arrive?” Crixus asked.

“Within the hour,” the officer answered. Volok turned to the Reman.

“I think we’ve found some good testing subjects,” he declared.
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

I said it before, I'm saying it again. The Unity is freaking me out! We know Tai Donar is going to be on the Aegis so this means the stuff is reversible somehow, but the question is how many more people are going to get turned and how much more damage will they do ... and how much more disgusting will it get?

I'm looking forward to Cherenkov unleashing some hell on the Alshain. God knows, they deserve it.

And now it appears as if Terrence is heading into a trap of Alshain and Romulan making. My money is on him.

 

[DarKush]

Thanks Cejay,

I'm glad you're still enjoying the story. As for my previous post, I might just keep the name Unity. Can't really find a good replacement. I did change the name 'overmind' to 'locus', the mysterious being or presence controlling Unity.

********************************************************************
Alshain Starforce Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-Class

“Hard to port!” Sutahr R’Vort snarled, and the ship jerked abruptly leftward. But not fast enough to escape the flurry of phaser beams erupting from the Aegis. Despite missing one-third of its hull, the Prometheus-class ship had proven to be not only maneuverable but sufficiently armed. The fight had not been going as R’Vort had anticipated.

The battle had started well, with a quick strike temporarily taking out the Aegis’s shield generators and vaporizing one of the escape pods before the Starfleeters had restored the shields. The Bonecrusher continued to roll, taking the brunt of the pelting on her ventral hull. The Aegis had already adjusted and was attacking again, this time pounding at the warship’s exposed starboard side. The Aegis, and her commander, was certainly more formidable than the Ariane had been. R’Vort gave a quick prayer to Garrm for steadiness.

“We’ve lost starboard shielding,” Oyan J’Leng called out seconds before a powerful surge exploded his console, hurling the man from his seat. He smashed into a nearby wall with a sickening thud. Death’s stench tickled the captain’s nostrils.

“I see we’ll have to deploy our secret weapon,” R’Vort replied soberly.

“But sir,” Kveld Rask said. “The War Ministry instructed us to only deploy the weapon as a last resort.”

“And what do you think this is?” R’Vort said in exasperation; to punctuate her point the ship rattle again as Aegis commenced another strafing run. The sutahr extended her claws, digging them into her armrests for purchase as the ship tilted wildly. Rask wasn’t so fortunate. The man was thrown from his seat, and right into the path of a collapsing bulkhead. He was buried in the tangled metal, his soft cries wheezing from his crushed torso. “That change your mind?” R’Vort said sardonically. She flipped open the panel on her right armrest and imparted the code.

She glanced around her ruined bridge and saw only a few officers left, and almost none in any condition to effectively man their posts. “All bridge functions, transfer to my command chair,” she ordered the computer. It slowly shifted shipboard operations to her fingertips. She maneuvered the Bonecrusher around, using the sensors to guide her toward the Aegis. More swiftly her enemy had turned and was on an approach vector again.

R’Vort held her finger over the trigger, waiting for the onrushing starship to get too close to avoid her weapon. Once that threshold had been reached, she smiled, remembering the only thing of value she had ever gleaned from her studies of Klingon culture. “Today is a good day to die!” she spat. Then she activated the weapon.
********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Main Bridge
Primary-Tertiary Hulls

“Captain!” Mr. Lister cried. “An isolytic subspace signature has just emanated from the Bonecrusher!”

“What?” Ivan said, jumping out of his seat. A mere second ago he had been salivating as Aegis headed toward the Bonecrusher. It appeared that the arrogant sutahr had given up, but Cherenkov was going to pound her a few more times to insure her compliance. Now, he realized that the crafty lupine had an ace up her sleeve.

“Ship is firing!” M’Raow similarly cried. A crackling subspatial tear ripped through space, right at them. The cord writhed through quickly through space, expanding its length each nanosecond. Aquiel gasped beside him, but Ivan ignored it.

“Evasive-,” he called out right before the wave engulfed them.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

****************************************************************
USS Urania
Main Bridge

Captain Rahul paused, as did everyone on the bridge. He gaped in wonder at the slit in space opened up by the Alshain vessel. Beyond the fiery lips rushing to kiss the hapless Aegis, he saw a glimpse of the darkness beyond and what rested within it. It was reaching out to claim the rich life aboard the Aegis, the pulse, the warmth that they craved. Normally the thing inside him, guiding him, would prevent that at all cost.

But this time he could he only shake with rapturous delight. He had felt Unity from a distance, and only with the help of the Locus from the darkened world, but now he was actually seeing it. And he watched it devour the starship, marveled as it took the life into its embrace, and he felt jealous. He wanted to feel that embrace, he wanted to be part of the whole, and the thing inside him shivered with his need. “Follow,” he ordered.
*******************************************************************
Alshain Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-class

Sutahr R’Vort leaned back in her seat and laughed as the Aegis was gobbled up by the subspace tear. Isolytic weapons were highly unpredictable, and just as likely to turn on their wielders as their intended targets, ergo the edict from the War Ministry. The technology had been one of the best prizes the Starforce had procured from the Son’a. And R’Vort looked forward to reporting its successful use. This engagement might earn her a promotion and her Sept even more high praise.

Glancing around her bridge, she felt tremendous sorrow at the loss of life, though the aroma of blood and charred flesh ashamedly made her stomach pang with hunger. She promised to honor the memories of her crew and secure honor for all of their houses. She stood up, on unsteady legs and made her way over to the twisted metal entombing Kveld Rask. Leaning down, she pressed her cheek against the jutting metal and mewled in mourning. Memories poured from her of all the missions they had been on, of all the times he had saved her life. She was certain that Garrm had just made a great addition to his celestial war host.

Proximity alarms intruded on her reveries. She stood up, glancing at the main viewer as she scrambled back to her seat. Two starships, one Starfleet and another Son’a, were heading towards her. Her fingers ran over her chair’s companel, bringing up weapons and reinforcing what remained of the ship’s shielding. Just as she prepared to fire, both vessels flew past her. She commanded the ship to track their direction. The ship’s cameras shifted in response, and she watched perplexed from the main viewer as both starships rushed toward the still moving subspace rip.

“What?” She whispered, both amazed and mortified, as both ships entered the rift. For just a moment she was seized with such curiosity that she considered following them. What could possess them to throw away their lives so recklessly? Was there some treasure that lay beyond the fissure in space-time? Then she came to her senses. “Course for Mobile Assembly Station Three set,” the shipboard computer replied.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

Author's Note: For those not familiar, the references to the Tal Arcani come from a previous story, "The Needs of the One", which can be found in the Dark Territory Section at the United Trek website. Also, the character Patrin Volok and his relationship to the Glovers was also first introduced in that story.

******************************************************************
USS Baltimore
Captain’s Ready Room

Captain Terrence Glover glanced down at the list of names that Lt. Commander Daruma had supplied him. There were more supposed SI agents aboard than he realized. If the Andorian could be believed, and Terrence was having serious trouble reconciling all that she had told him with the way he had believed things had been, before war. The idea of Starfleet Intelligence controlling starships reminded him too much of similar actions by the Tal Shiar and Obsidian Order. It just wasn’t something Starfleet did.

We are above board, we are transparent, he thought, knowing that was a lie even before it finished circulating around his brain. He had been on enough clandestine missions to know that sometimes the Fleet operated in the shadows, sometimes Starfleet regulations and Federation laws had to be bent. However, the idea had never set well with Terrence, and he was suspicious of any group working without oversight for too long. There was just too much of a temptation to break the law, or make it up as they went along.

He really wished there was someone he could express his disquiet with, but Glover was afraid that the subspace communication relays might be tapped, and he didn’t want any Tal Arcani or Alshain confederates aware that he was on to them. Though Terrence wished he could talk to his father, or at least T’Prell, the V’Shar operative, he and Samson had saved from the Tal Arcani several years ago. He was certain that both of them could provide a lot of insight into Daruma’s revelation, and debunk it if necessary.

But mainly he just wished there was someone he could unload his troubles upon, Pell, or Jasmine, or even Juanita. Someone who would listen to him and provide him with the support he needed. But there was no one, and the captain knew he couldn’t trust anyone on this ship, including Daruma. He was surrounded by sharks and he had to be on guard at all times.

That realization sobered him, and hardened him. He hadn’t gone to the gates of hell over Cardassia Prime to be the victim of skullduggery. He didn’t know from whence the dagger aimed at his back would come, but Terrence promised himself that he would be prepared, and he would respond accordingly.

“Captain Glover, you’re needed on the bridge,” Daruma’s voice slithered through the comm system. “A Romulan warbird just decloaked off our starboard bow.”
“Damn déjà vu,” Glover muttered. More loudly he said, “On my way.”
********************************************************************
USS Baltimore
Main Bridge

“You’re sure the masker is going to work?” Captain Glover asked again. He gazed at the large, green D’deridex-class warbird hung in space before them, it bow shaped like a down-sloping predatory beak. Though Glover had always considered himself more of a Klingon-phile in contrast to his father’s interest in the Romulans, the captain had always been amazed by the grace and power of the dwarfing warbirds. The immense ships were larger even than Galaxy-class vessels. Despite their bulkier design, he preferred them over the sleeker warship that had greeted the Baltimore and even now lurked somewhere nearby, under cloak. The captain knew it would be wise to assume that the D’deridex hadn’t traveled alone either.

“Yes sir,” Lt. Commander Daruma promised for the third time. “You will appear as a Corvallen.”

“Warbird has raised shields and charged forward disruptor array,” Lt. Baird interjected, his voice terse. “Should we do likewise?”

“Negative,” Daruma said, wincing after the captain scowled at her presumption.

“And what’s his name again?” Glover asked. The Andorian stifled a sigh before repeating it. The captain nodded. “All right. Answer the hail.”

“Corvallen freighter you’re late,” the thickset, gray-haired Romulan commander rasped. “Why are you late?”

Glover shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Well, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” the Romulan leaned forward, his eyebrows arching in suspicion. “Would you care to enlighten me?” It wasn’t really a question.

Glover’s smile widened, “Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet, what else?” He chuckled. The Romulan was not amused.

“When you business with us, we expect professionalism,” the Romulan stated. “I’m sure even a brigand like you could understand that.” Before Glover could respond, the Romulan said, “Prepare to be boarded.”

The captain shot a quick look over to Daruma. The Andorian had a troubled look on her face. She mouthed, “Something’s wrong.”

Glover nodded imperceptibly before glancing back at the Romulan. “Surely, my friend….”

The Romulan smirked. “I am not your friend. Comply with my order or I will be forced to fire upon you.”

“That’s not how things have worked in the past,” Glover took a gamble, “and I don’t understand the change in procedure now.”

“It is not for you to understand,” the Romulan huffed. “You have ten seconds.”

Glover glanced back at Daruma who shrugged and then he looked at Baird. “Why have you raised your shields and powered your armaments?” The Romulan asked.

“You’ve given us no choice,” Glover replied. “Our job was to make the delivery, not for it to be absconded from us. How do I even know who you are who you say you are?”

This took the Romulan aback. He scratched his rounded chin. He grimaced. “Actually that’s a good point.”

“Two more ships decloaking,” Baird called out. Glover maintained a poker face as another D’deridex and an older model D’talla wavered into sight beside the first warbird. The main viewer screen split, with another Romulan, silver-haired, but with more chiseled features, appearing beside his fatter colleague.

“You were always an idiot Liburn,” the trim Romulan declared, before addressing Glover. “It’s time to end this charade. We know you are Starfleet.” Glover’s expression remained impassive. The Romulan’s face darkened. “Do not attempt to insult my intelligence.”

“Romulan warbird charging weapons,” Baird replied quickly. Glover still wasn’t fazed. The Romulan smirked.

“A cool one I suppose,” he remarked. “I shall enjoy breaking you.” The three Romulan vessels moved to encircle the Baltimore.

“Like you’ll get the chance,” Glover boasted. “It’s time we stopped playing this game.” He glanced at Baird.

“Our shields are up, and are weapons are locked on all three warbirds,” the tactical officer informed him. Sotto voice, Glover ordered Daruma to raise Commander Livana.

“I’m not getting any response,” Daruma said.

“Try again,” Glover remarked out of the side of his mouth. The ship shuddered as the Romulan commander shot a glancing blow off the Baltimore’s hull.

“That’s your only warning shot,” the Romulan commander promised.

“It’s a shame that I am about to war with a person I don’t know,” the captain said, stalling for time.

“As it is for an enemy that I can’t truly see, but that will be remedied soon enough,” the Romulan replied. “After I’m standing over your corpse.”

“Drop the holographic screen,” Glover ordered.

“What?” Daruma asked, mouth agape.

“Do it,” the captain hissed. The lighting dipped as power recycled throughout the ship, reverting back to standard systems.

“We’ve got more power for structural integrity, shields, and weapons now,” Baird informed everyone. “In a full on fight that should keep us alive for a few more minutes at least.”

“It’s you!” The Romulan hissed. “Samson’s son.”

“Uh yeah,” Glover replied. “How do you know who I am?”

“Let’s just say that you’re father and I go way back,” the Romulan sneered. “Has he ever told you about a man named Volok?”

“You’re Volok? General Volok?”

“No, not a general, not anymore,” the man replied bitterly. “Not after the Tal Shiar dismantled my organization, not after they sent me to prison. If not for the war…if not for the Dominion and the losses we incurred, I might still be rotting there. And it was all because of your father, and you too.”

“Me?”

“Oh yes,” the man’s smile became nasty. “You’re actions at Aranthka IX gave the Tal Shiar the final nail to put in my coffin. I’ve been looking so forward to meeting you Terrence.”

“I wish I could say the same about you,” Glover riposted, already thinking of ways to turn this new information to his advantage. He was going to have to find some way to turn the Romulan’s smoldering rage against him. Having another ship to even the odds would help.

He glanced back at Daruma. The Andorian shook her head. “I believe that Livana has left us behind.”

“A treacherous Romulan?” Glover muttered. “Imagine that.”
*******************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

Ok, what's going on with the suicide missions right into a subspace tear. And I know you're not going to let R’Vort get away from this one, right?

Odds do not look good for Terrence here. Surrounded and your supposed ally tugged tail. He better come up with something good. I like those Akira class ships but not against a couple (or more) Romulan warbirds.

 

[DarKush]

Thanks for reading and commenting CeJay.

With R'Vort I actually was going to let her get away. Her clan, or extended family, will come to take poundings in Gibraltar's "Prophets and Loss" and my "Fall Out" so I thought it would be merciful to let one of them come out of a story unscathed...for the moment at least.

As for Terrence, yeah, its looking pretty bad for him right now. He's going to have to come up with something and do it fast. Where is the Chevalier, Eagle, Gibraltar, Sutherland, Pytheas, Bluefin, Independence, Shephard, Perserus, Lexington, or Agamemnon when he needs them?

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
USS Aegis
Outside Transporter Room
Secondary Hull

“Computer,” Lt. Commander N’Saba said hastily, “Erect a Level-Four forcefield over the entrance to the transporter room!” The field shimmered into place just before Donar smashed into the doors with such force that he dented the composite metal. The thunderous racket caused both N’Saba and the transporter officer to jump. Normally N’Saba would feel embarrassed about displaying such fear, but the idea of an enraged or possessed Angosian super-soldier on the rampage was nothing to be ashamed about. He glanced at the similarly twitchy Bolian and both men shared a sigh of relief. The doors rattled again, the metal buckling. Gloved fingers pushed through a seam and began pushing the doors apart. Instinctively both men took a step back. “Computer, increase forcefield by one level.”

A field undulated and N’Saba felt a new wave of relief. Despite the resilience of Mr. Donar, if he sought to pass through the field it would short circuit first his suit and then his nervous system, causing him to pass out. Not getting the memo apparently, Donar shoved both ends of the doors back with such force that they smacked into their slots, causing a shower of sparks and acrid smoke. N’Saba scrunched up his face at the smell. Through the curls of smoke Donar glared at them. His helmet was off. Black, wormlike things squirmed beneath his now pallid skin, and dark liquid dripped from his eyes and mouth. His gaze was obsidian.

N’Saba’s fear was tamped down by his curiosity. With his artificial sight N’Saba could see that the vibrant ultra-violet and infra-red hues that usually composed the Angosian’s makeup had all but been dwarfed by pitch blackness. Something was covering him almost head to toe. He thought of the alien lifeform afflicting Lt. Dindral; but this rate of growth was far worse. “Mr. Donar,” he called, with puffed up imperiousness. “Mr. Donar, are you still in possession of your faculties?”

“The one…you call Donar…he is within the Unity now,” the thing using the security officer’s mouth said. “As soon you shall be.”

“And what is this…Unity?”

“It is all…and nothing. The nothingness of all.”

“I…don’t understand?” N’Saba glanced at the transporter officer and the Bolian shook his head, similarly perplexed.

“You soon will,” Donar’s gaze swept from N’Saba to the Bolian. “You all will.”

“Not likely,” N’Saba huffed. “We’re going to find a way to extricate whatever you are from Mr. Donar.”

The corners of Donar’s mouth ticked upward, and N’Saba’s stomach twisted. But he fought not to show the new outcropping of fear.

“You think this,” he pressed his hand against the forcefield, holding the gauntleted hand against the protesting field, the energy crackling around it, burning through it. “Can stop me?”

“Stop it,” N’Saba ordered, concerned for the pain the creature might be causing Donar.

“This…is just a shell, a chalice that holds back the voice, but soon, so very soon, all of your kind…shall be released from your shells.”

“Stop it damn it,” N’Saba stepped forward. The smell of burning circuits, plastic, and now flesh was nearly making him gag. The thing possessing Donar stepped back, and smiled, the black wriggling from his lips, falling to his chin, down his chest and legs to the floor. It slithered toward the forcefield.

“What are you doing?” N’Saba stepped in front of the transporter officer. He glared down in horror as the creatures approached the field. Donar laughed. The slugs crawled straight into the field, popping as each one touched the field. The decaying stench almost overpowered N’Saba. “Computer,” he called, a new idea entering his mind. “Fill the transporter room with anesthetic gas.”

Donar seemed unfazed by this. He merely glanced at N’Saba and approximated an all together normal and therefore extremely chilling shrug. We’ll see how smug you when you’re behind hits the floor, N’Saba thought. He waited for the gas to cycle on, but nothing happened.

“Computer,” He called again. He felt the Bolian behind him grow more agitated. “Computer,” he snapped. There was no response. The Alshain tapped his combadge. “N’Saba to bridge.” No reply. He repeated the summons. He glared at Donar. “What’s happening?”

The Angosian shrugged again. For a moment, N’Saba’s anger almost got the best of him and he almost ordered the forcefield to be lowered. Then he realized that the computer probably wouldn’t respond to that command either. “Crewman, go to the bridge,” he ordered, “And report back to me as soon as possible. I will stay here with Mr. Donar.”

“Yes sir,” the Bolian said, a bit too quickly.

“I…wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Donar remarked.

“And why is that?” N’Saba demanded. The Angosian cocked his head, looking past the science officer. Despite himself, N’Saba turned around. The air shimmered around him and the crewman. Seconds later they were surrounded by gaunt Cardassians, all armed, and all with black eyes and lips. N’Saba knew what was coming next and didn’t even turn around when the forcefield shut off.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

*************************************************************************
IRW Blackwing
Stateroom

Commander Livana smirked. “Don’t look at me like that Sergius. The Baltimore served its purpose, and if the gods permit, the crew will die with honor.”

Her barrow-chested Centurion scowled, the thick black eyebrows beneath his heavy brow ridge knitting together. “You have always been lenient with me…Livana,” he chanced. Both knew he would never speak her given name among the crew; only in private would she grant him this courtesy. The tough old soldier had stood by her side for so long that it was this break in protocol was just one of the gifts she bestowed upon him. Though there were times when she damned her kindness. If her father had never taught her the value of loyalty, she would be in the Senate by now, maybe even Praetor. She laughed at the thought and Sergius’s scowl deepened.

“Have I amused you Liv,” he asked, becoming even more informal.

“No,” Livana shook her head. “Just thinking…is all. You know as well as I that our loyalty to the Empire trumps any fealty to our allies, who really aren’t our allies anymore. You’re well aware that the Federation Council is raising a fuss over our rebuilding efforts in the Benzar System. The Empire saved that system from the clutches of the Dominion and then spent money and resources restoring the Benzites to sustainability and what thanks did we get?”

“Some might consider our actions more occupation than rebuilding,” Sergius countered and Livana smirked again. She loved sparring over politics with him, well, with anyone that wouldn’t record everything she said and use it against her at a future treason trial. Despite her long friendship with Sergius she had double checked his communiqués and personal affects more than once to ensure that he remained loyal.

“And what of the Founder’s upcoming trial?” She asked, deciding to bring up another poking bone of contention between them instead of focusing on the Benzar situation. “The Feds are balking over our desire to see the Changeling executed. Even the knobheads are in agreement with us on this, but the humans have allowed their soft sensibilities to blind them to the justice of removing this monster from the galaxy.”

“Killing the shape changer won’t bring back our dead,” Sergius replied solemnly. “In fact, if not for the Dominion, the alliance among us, the Federation, and the Klingons would not be possible. It might be abhorrent to think so, but the war might’ve led to the prospect of greater peace and prosperity across the quadrant.”

Livana scoffed, “As if that’s the Praetor truly craves, or the Senate or military for that matter. No,” she shook her head. “The only good things that came from this war were it destroyed the Cardassians, and severely hampered the Klingons and the Federation. They can’t stand opposed to us. We are the preeminent power in the Alpha Quadrant.”

Now Sergius shook his head. “That is the pabulum the Central Net feeds to the masses, but you know it is not remotely true. We incurred tremendous losses too. Not to the level of the Federation or Klingons to be sure, but we can’t war with them as much as many in the Senate and military try to convince themselves and others. Not to mention the deleterious effect the war had on relations with the Remans.”

Livana snorted. “Tread carefully old friend.” The centurion tensed in response. She couldn’t deny Sergius’s arguments as much as she wanted to. The Star Empire had entered the war late, but taken such heavy casualties that the Empire had saw fit to employ the services of Reman slaves to make up for the losses. The debate over the use of the Remans had been fierce in the Senate and among the officer corps. The most radical even suggested floating the idea of emancipation to encourage the Remans to join the war effort willingly, but Praetor Neral had been wise enough to only vaguely promise the Remans better treatment if they served the Empire. Many had flocked to the raptor’s banner, but unfortunately, too many had survived the war and now they were demanding that Neral make good on his promise. Even some among the officer corps, impressed by the Remans bravery, had joined in calling for more rights for the Reman soldiers.

Livana was astute enough to know that once the ale had been spilled on the table there was no way to put it back in the flask. Granting rights to Reman soldiers would put pressure on showing the same compassion to their families still in bondage. And that would lead to greater rights for all Remans and then all subjects of the Empire. Cozying up to the Remans now could lead to the dissolution of the Star Empire. After serving under the raptor’s wing for over a hundred years, Livana couldn’t imagine such a horrible state of affairs. But it was happening, right in front of her eyes.

The Tal Arcani was so desperate to restore their moribund agency that they had placed themselves in league with the Remans. For all Livana knew they had also supplied some of the more extremist elements among the Remans with arms and were the cause behind the recent violence rocking sectors of the Empire. If the Tal Arcani was successful, the Remans would eventually be granted full citizenship rights and the Empire would collapse, Livana was certain.

The only good thing that had come from this corrupt alliance had been the polaric ion research. With it the Tal Shiar could forge a stronger bulwark with the forces opposed to the Remans and desirous of restoring the Empire’s greatness.

Livana’s father admired personal loyalty, but service to the state trumped all. She would perform her duty and deliver into the hands of the Empire one of the greatest weapons ever conceived, and she would do so at any cost, even if that price was Sergius’s life. And her friend was wise enough to know that. He nodded; his expression sober and his gaze steely. “Request permission to be dismissed,” he said, heartbreakingly formal. “We must be nearing the shipyards by now.”

Rarely had she had to threaten him over the years, but it had happened on occasion, though mostly in public. In times past she told herself she was doing it for his benefit, protecting him. But no one was within earshot this time. And both of them had come to the realization that Livana could very likely be the one to have him arrested, if not executed on the spot. There was no way that Livana could take away that revelation. And there was a part of her that didn’t want to. If her friendship conflicted with her duty to the state, duty won out. “Permission granted,” she replied.

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

Undisclosed Location
Romii Star System
Romulan Star Empire

“Koval, what game are you aiming at?” Operative Mui remarked, seeking to draw his ire by not addressing him by his title. The Tal Shiar chairman barely raised an arched eyebrow.

“Whatever do you mean?” He asked, completely nonchalant.

“I’m at the border of the Inci System, and I just received a coded communiqué from the Baltimore. The Blackwing has left it at the mercy of several Romulan warships.”

“We merely wish to secure the technology and prevent the Alshain or the Tal Arcani from absconding with it.”

“By sacrificing one of our ships in the process?” Mui snapped, her face reddening with anger. “I’ve already relayed the message on to the Directorate. They will hear of our exchange as well.” The woman paused, and the red began to fade from her skin. She grinned and Koval’s throat tightened. “You can rest assured that this will delay our delivering the Tuvan Syndrome cure to you.”

At the mention of the deteriorating neurological condition wreaking havoc on him, the chairman’s hands palsied. He was glad they were out of the human’s sight. He struggled to keep his facial muscles from sagging. Koval was having a harder time doing that lately, due to the uncommonly aggressive strain afflicting him. Normally it took ten to fifteen years for the syndrome to affect motor function. In darker, more paranoid moments, Koval wondered if his enemies hadn’t found a way to speed along his genetic disposition for the syndrome.

The chairman tried not to spend too much time in those dark wells, preferring instead to focus on finding a cure. So far Romulan scientists had failed to find a cure for the debilitating disease and the Empire had been loath to call on their Vulcan brethren for assistance. The Vulcans were much further along in treating the disease and Section 31 had waved the tantalizing prospect of a complete cure before him to bring him under their employ. So far his spies on Vulcan and throughout the Federation hadn’t been able to confirm if Section 31 had an actual cure or not. They had been supplying him with treatments that were keeping him far healthier than his rivals in the know thought possible even at this relatively early stage of his illness.

He chafed at the arrangement, but if they were ever did give him the cure or if his agents ever discovered one, Koval promised his revenge on Section 31 and the entire Federation would be most satisfying. No one made him an underling and lived to gloat about it.

“That threat is most…unfortunate,” Koval replied coolly, “not to mention uncouth. Once I have the polaric ion research solely in my possession, I’m sure your section would be more amenable to providing me a cure.”

Mui gaped. “You’re bluffing.”

Koval forced his lips into a smile. “I assure you, I never bluff.” His fingers stabbed clumsily at his console. “In a few seconds a warbird will decloak above you. I tell you this now so that when you send your last words to your Directorate masters, they will also know that I do not jest and I sign my promises in blood.”

“Now, just wait a min-,” Mui balked.

Koval deactivated the link. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled as he imagined the fireworks.
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

It wouldn't be the Romulans if there wasn't a lot of deal-making and back-stabbing behind close doors. I like how you're tying in Koval into this as well.

As for Unity. I'm curious to see how they will be stopped because right now it looks pretty damned bleak. And now the Aegis (Secondary Hull) has all but fallen and with it Donar and N'Saba. Not a good turn of events.

 

[Dnoth]

I want you to know I am trying to catch up with this story. I'm up to where the Son'a destroyer gets to the spatial rift. Excellent so far!

 

[DarKush]

Thanks again guys for reading and commenting. With Koval, I never quite bought the idea of him just being a Section 31 ally. It seemed to me like he would be using them just like they are using him. Plus I wanted to establish the guy in this story because I intend to a follow-up to my Romulan-centric "Needs of the One" in the future and Koval will play a role there as well.


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

PART SIX:
IN DARKNESS FIND ME


Starfleet Headquarters
Starfleet Security Division

Jasmine asked, tentatively, “No word yet from Terrence?” Admiral Glover glanced at his daughter-in-law, and then at an equally pensive Pell Ojana. Both women had quickly taken seats across from his desk when they entered. The three cups of tea on the desk were untouched. They now both sat on the edges of their seats, their anxiety palpable. He frowned.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “We haven’t received word from the Baltimore in quite some time.” As much as it pained him he wanted them to know the truth, “We haven’t received a regularly scheduled progress update in over sixteen hours.”

Jasmine lowered her head and Pell placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. The Bajoran spoke up, “The delay could be caused by anything right?” She asked, as much to convince herself it seemed as the others. “It could be a probable with the communications array; they could’ve hit a bad patch of space, or anything.”

“Yeah, anything,” Jasmine said darkly. Pell fell silent. Samson’s throat constricted and guilt rested heavy on his chest. If something happened to Terrence, on a mission he had sent him on, the admiral didn’t know what he would do.

He hadn’t wanted to pull Terrence from his time with Jasmine, but he needed someone aboard the Baltimore that he could trust completely. Something about the mission hadn’t set well with him, and he wanted a full accounting. Even now he had his friends in SI looking more into the Inci Shipyards. Unfortunately he hadn’t had that luxury when the mission had come his way, and it had forced him to reassign Terrence.

The admiral knew that the Alshain’s reverse engineering program hadn’t progressed enough to bring their Starforce into parity with the Fleet; they had a long way to go before that. Also, the concern over isolytic weapons seemed a bit overblown to him. The Son’a possessed them and used them on occasion, but it had done little to help advance their war aims, and conceivably the Exarchate had more to lose by utilizing the weapons and drawing the wrath of the galactic community.

At least the Son’a had the Dominion propping them up. The Alshain had no one, and they weren’t quite at the stage where they could challenge the Federation, Klingons, or Romulans for dominance. No, he knew there was something else going on, and he just hoped that his son could piece together and return safely to them. He knew that Terrence was resourceful and tough enough to take care of himself, but Samson worried all the same. “I wish I had better news, but at the moment I don’t,” the admiral sadly informed them. “I promise if there is a new development I will let you know.”

“Thank you sir,” Jasmine replied, her voice breaking.

“Thank you Admiral,” Pell said solemnly before standing up. Jasmine hastily followed suit. “Permission to be dismissed sir?”

Samson waved away her formality. “Right now, I’m just Samson and this is more than official business, this is family business, and you’re both family.”

Pell wavered at that, her eyes moistening. Now Jasmine placed a steadying hand on the Bajoran’s elbow, and led her from the room. Jasmine turned back, just as the doors opened.

Samson respectfully held her gaze, the communication between them silent but just as powerful as if Jasmine had shouted it with a bullhorn. Don’t lose him, her gaze was saying. Samson promised her he wouldn’t.

After they were gone, Samson sat back in his seat. He reached for his cup of tea and gagged on the bitter taste of the cooled liquid. While carrying it over to the replicator to reheat it, Samson’s door chime rang. “Enter,” he said, his back turned to the door. Tea sufficiently heated, he asked before turning around, “Did either of you forget something?”

“Beg your pardon sir?” The voice was female, but unfamiliar. He turned around slowly. A stout Andorian woman, dressed in admiral’s garb, stood by his desk, clutching a padd in one hand.

“My apologies,” Glover said with a smile. “I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

The woman dipped her head in greeting. “No, we haven’t. I am Rear Admiral Visala, Starfleet Intelligence.”

“Samson Glover, Starfleet Security,” he replied amiably. He hated using his official title. It always felt like a mouthful. “How might I help you?”

“I have news from the Inci System,” Visala said, her expression becoming pinched. That wasn’t a good sign Samson realized.

“What is it?” He asked, not wanting to wait for bad news. He steadied himself for the worst.

“We’ve recently lost contact with one of our subspace monitoring outposts along the border of the Inci System.”

“What happened?” The Andorian held out the padd. Samson put down his tea and began scouring it.

“We’re not sure what happened to the outpost, but they were able to relay a message from the Baltimore before we lost contact.”

“What was the message?” The admiral asked hopefully, looking up from the padd. Visala shifted uncomfortably.

“The Baltimore had been intercepted by three hostile vessels.”

“Do we know who the hostiles were?”

Visala’s voice dipped, “They were Romulans.”

“Romulans?” Samson took a step back. “What are the Romulans doing in the Inci System?”

“Sir, I think you’re going to need to have a seat,” Visala replied.

“What’s going on here?” Samson demanded. “What’s really going on at that shipyard?”

“That’s why I asked that you take a seat,” the Andorian suggested.

“I’ll stand,” Samson said firmly. He had no patience for niceties, not where his son was concerned. “Now, I want the truth.”

“And the full truth is what you shall have,” Visala said before she began.
*******************************************************************