THE ALLLIANCE, UPRISING
Countless wars have been fought over the centuries; hundreds during the era of space exploration. But never had the galaxy seen one like the Dominion War. None had ever expected an enemy to rise from the shadows of the “upper” part of the galaxy—the only true threat they believed to lay there was the Borg, and even they could do no more than dig their heels into the dirt and hold their ground when the Dominion came barging in. Perhaps, this in itself was the reason the Beta, and soon after the Alpha Quadrant, fell under the merciless might of the Dominion. The fact that none had ever foreseen a possible threat from the powers of the Gamma Quadrant could very well have been their undoing.
Throughout the past half century, this became all but blaringly obvious to those remaining leaders, figureheads, and high officers of the ramshackle rebel-armies. They could never afford to make such folly again, and the Dominion could never start. To that end, the Dominion was largely unsuccessful, and failed to register the sudden motion of rebelling forces, and when the sudden devastating activation of dozens of sleeper cells occurred, it was chalked up to coincidence.
So much the better for the rebels.
Impatience and intolerance have recently grown rampant. The Romulans have begun sending suicide runs into Dominion ship hangars; the Klingons have started staging smash-and-grabs; the Cardassians now sabotaging communication relays and filling subspace with ridiculous garble; the Breen have been noted to be shaking hands of agreement with the Borg, who’s borders are alive and crawling with cubes; and those who were part of what was once the Federation are rattling the bars of their prisons and breaking the backs of their jailors.
Now was their test of faith.
* * *
There were six. The Six. The powerheads of each rebellion faction, and it had taken much persuasion (arguing, shouting, threatening, punching, and shooting) to get them all together, with no other personnel present who might pass on the happenings to other sources. They were the six of the most radical, and the most motivated; and today was the day they would flesh out their aggressions and passions into a plan of action.
“We have all come, despite our misgivings, Admiral Data,” said Breen delegate Jango’Tor, his mechanical voice managing to convey his annoyance. The others sourly nodded heads in agreement and Data stood.
“And I thank you for working around them,” he replied curtly.
“I fail to see the need for diplomacy,” K’Tok growled. The Klingon delegate slapped his hand down forcefully on the table around which they were seated.
“You would,” Amrrh’i said snidely, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight sneer.
K’Tok glanced at the Romulan. “The way I see it, we were doing quite well as we were, shaking up the Dominion little by little.”
“We were no more than a thorn in their side,” said the Cardassian leader in his smooth voice. “Sooner or later, they would have swatted away our weak guerrilla tactics.”
“Indeed, Gamor.” The Borg Queen’s voice echoed oddly throughout the room. “It was very much a futile effort.”
“It was not futile,” K’Tok roared, standing up so suddenly and violently that it threw his chair back behind him. “And it certainly does more good than sitting here!”
Amrrh’i cast him a contemptuous glance, and said in a voice that made it quite evident that she was of the opinion that she was dealing with no more than an unruly child, “Sit down, you veruul, and behave yourself!”
K’Tok roughly pulled his chair back up, and Data briefly wondered if it had been a steep miscalculation on his part to seat next to each other the Romulan and Klingon leaders.
“I should hope you realize, ‘Admiral’ Data, that in order for this meeting to be of any worth at all, a massive, surgical strike is what we will have to devise, as we would not fell the Dominion with a prolonged war. It will have to end as soon as it has begun.”
“I concur, General Jango’Tor,” Amrrh'i said, and placed her hands on the table as if laying out a blueprint. “It must also, however, be a smooth operation.” She cast an appraising eye over the other Six. “I confess that I am doubtful of the outcome of such an enterprise.”
“Romulan paranoia…”
She continued, pointedly ignoring the Klingon, “While we are more or less unanimous in our goals, we will be without a doubt divided in our idea of the means, a prime example being Chancellor K’Tok, here, who preferred his style of ‘smash and grabs’ and ‘hit and runs’.”
Gamor inclined his head to her, his neck spines showing more prominently. “And what would you do, khre’Riov Amrrh’i, should it have been your sole call to make?”
“I would make one large motion vriha’Gamor,” she replied curtly. “I would mobilize all my forces at once, and attack in an instant, targeting those installations that would be key for the enemy to strike back, thus leaving them defenseless.”
“A wise plan, khre’Riov, but what after?” said Jango’Tor. “They would not stay defenseless for long, and you would have used up all of your resources, therefore unable to make the final blow.”
“The Borg would be willing to make such a coup de grace.”
Gamor cast the Queen a warily amused glance. “Indeed. But I am aware the Romulans have been spending their ship sources quite callously as of recently, and for the proposed plane to be of any consequence—,” he spare Amrrh’i a sideways glance. “—they would need much help, most likely from you dear Queen. Thus you would be unable to go about making any ‘coup de grace’.”
She looked unconvinced. “What of you?”
Gamor straightened importantly. “A large, continuous, ‘hit and run’ scenario, using the cloaking devices we… acquired from our Romulan associates.” He smile thinly at Amrrh’i.
“I think stole would be more appropriate, Gamor,” she said in a low, icy voice. Gamor shrugged dismissively.
“And of you, Admiral Data?” asked Jango’Tor, interrupting the silence that had fallen. “We have heard naught from you. What if we were to wage war on your terms, android?”
“A war on his terms would be no war at all,” K’Tok grumbled, earning him a terribly cold look from Amrrh’i.
Data shifted a tad uncomfortably under the stares of the others, aware that they were not actually waiting to hears his battle strategies, but instead a shpeal about diplomacy. While he was unofficially the leader of this meeting, as he had called it, they saw him as no more than an accessory to the means, and the key to the Free Dominion Confederacy’s resources than an actual warhead—the exception being perhaps the Borg Queen.
“To be honest, gentlemen,” he said, then added with nods to Amrrh’i and the Queen, “ladies; there really is not much I could suggest, at this point, short of agreeing with one of you.” He paused, and they stared at him expectantly, waiting to see who it was that he would side with. “However, in my opinion, it would be rather disastrous for the Six to be divided against each other. Herein, we must not act as Six, but as One, and there could be no better chance than now.”
“And how would you propose we do that, Admiral Data?” said Jango’Tor, and despite his nonemotional, mechanical monotone, Data had a sneaking suspicion that the Breen Patriarch was wearing a satisfied smile. The cunning Breen no doubt had purposefully maneuvered him into this position.
“We ought to combine our plans, effectively creating the one, decisive strike that would start and end the war for our freedom. As it was her idea, Praetor khre’Riov Amrrh’i could launch an attack on the Dominion hangars, out posts, and major applications, and if so was their desire, the Borg could aid in this.” At his pause, the Borg Queen nodded graciously, and Amrrh’i looked away grudgingly. Data gestured to Gamor. “You might put into effect your ‘hit and run’ scenario when the word is given by our female leaders, to all intents and purposes making you the ‘second wave’ to occupy those remaining Dominion ships,” he said, and Gamor simply sat stiffly in his chair, refusing to agree or shoot it down. “Then, amid the confusion, the Free Dominion Confederacy would launch an attack against the Founders with the help of the Breen Confederacy, if they would be so obliged.”
“Of course, Admiral Data,” Jango’Tor replied in a rather ungracious manner.
“And what of the Klingons, android,” K’Tok growled.
“The Klingons can cause whatever mayhem they would please among the Dominion ranks.”
At that, K’Tok smiled viciously.
* * *
Vorta Elite Luaran scowled. How utterly despicable that these people who call themselves the “Six” would plot an assault upon the Founders!—glory to them. The shear audacity. He did, however, allow himself a slight smile of satisfaction when arguing quite suddenly erupted on the other end of the listening line. For all their prestige and prowess, it escaped Luaran how it was that the Six would never check for any sort of spying devices amidst themselves. They were much too trusting of each other.
He glanced around the bridge of his massive attack cruiser at his Jem’Hadar crew manning the key systems. Down below his feet, ex-Federation slave-crewmembers were performing the grunt work. How ironic it was that the very people the Six were fighting to free would be the ones to fuel their destruction. The android leader of the “Free Dominion Confederacy”, Admiral Data, had thought himself so clever to host the meeting of the Six inside a large, hollowed out asteroid within Breen territory—as if he believed himself to be untouchable there. The Dominion still held clearance there, no matter how much Patriarch Jango’Tor might resent it. And now they were on their way to break up this little “meeting”. Sure, their spy would be lost, but they were only a pro tempore tool, and never a permanent instillation.
“We are approaching coordinates, sir.”
* * *
All at once in a thundering clamor, communicators wailed, chirped, beeped, and shrieked, and were simultaneously activated in a unanimous “What is it?”. In uncanny unison, communications officers on the other end of each line replied, “Dominion massivecruiser incoming!”, which was followed by a loud chorus of swearing and then “beam me up!”s.
Outside the artificial environment-oriented asteroid that had been their meeting place, five other massivecruisers and a Borg cube just as large decloaked as one entity. While each of the massivecruisers was obviously native of its home faction of its over-all design, they were distinctly all of the Anarchy design. Each was triangular in shape, with upper and under dorsal-fin style nacelles and auto-turrets menacing along it’s spines running down the sides.
Starlight flickered bright and blinding along their hulls as they arranged themselves into a loose globular formation with the speed of much smaller ships.
* * *
“Sir, they identify themselves as the FDSS Freelancer, Patriot, Revolution, Defiance, Freedomfire, and Malevolent.”
Luaran swallowed slowly, feeling himself go paler than usual. This was not what he had hoped for. Engagement would no doubt result in he and his ship being reduced to sub-atomic particles.
“Sir?”
“What?” he snapped at First Hekt’Oran. The Jem’Hadar glared at him in return, and Luaran felt his face flush. “Excuse me, First.” He turned away, however, not bothering with any more than that. When he had an order he would tell them. I must think of a way out of this!
“Tormet’Khan, which one is their flagship?”
“Unknown, sir. They all are of the same ship-rank.”
Luaran sighed. Of course. After all, they were the Six, and one thing they had pointedly made clear was that despite whatever rank they held back home, when together, none was superior to another. “Fine,” he said. “Hail the Free Dominion Confederacy cruiser. We will have a better chance of what I have in mind with the android.”
Tormet’Khan complied, and after a moment, the figure of Admiral Data filled the screen, the android shadowed by the massive battle bridge.
“I am Vorta Elite Luaran, servant of the Founders, and we are the Dominion massivecruiser Alpha. On the behalf of the Dominion, we ask you to cease and desist.”
* * *
Data discretely motioned for an officer to feed the communication to the other ships. “I am Admiral Data,” he replied, unfazed by the Vorta’s attempt at authority. “We are the Free Dominion Confederate ship Patriot.” Whether or not the Vorta was affected by this at all, he could not tell as the Vorta seemed to wear a constant look of alarm. “We must refuse your request, however.”
“Then you leave us no choice.”
Data furrowed his brow. “You are making the assumption you could defeat us.”
Luaran smiled slyly. “Oh no, admiral. I don’t have to defeat you.” Then abruptly the transmission ended, leaving Data and the rest of the Six in bewilderment to what he had meant. It soon became all too apparent to Data when Amrrh’i cried overt the ship-to-shipwide relay, “He’s seeding the star!”
There was confusion over the channels, as only the Romulans seemed to know what this meant, and their ship was breaking formation and fleeing. Data racked his memory banks hoping to find what it was that had caused Praetor khre’Riov Amrrh’i to run. There was only one match and while it was old—dating back to the era of James T. Kirk—there was no doubt. The Dominion had somehow gotten a hold of the Romulan project “Sunseed”, and were planning on seeding with it the white supermassive star lying but two hundred thousand kilometers away and baking their shields. Seeding a star would cause the corona of said star to become unstable, releasing a giant wave of ionization that in most cases could destroy whole starships. But with a star of this magnitude, it would cause such a giant wave that it would raze anything within a four-light-year radius.
“Get us out of here!” he shouted. “Broadcast a mayday to the other ships! They must flee now!” There was no way to tune their shields to compensate for the wave, there were too many variables, and Luaran’s massivecruiser was already diving towards the star in what looked form their angle to be a nosedive. If they were to make it out in time, they would have to leave now. He glanced at the holo-table which was displaying a realtime holo of what was happening around them. Alpha was starting to pull up from the star, firing photons and phasers into its fires. In the center were the five ships breaking formation and preparing to run, and on the very fringe of the table was the Romulan cruiser Freedomfire already almost out of danger with her haste.
“All hands brave for emergency high-energy warp vault!”
* * *
Luaran could feel the palms of his hand sweating. How unnatural, he thought as he stared into the mega-filtered fire of the star they were seeding. “Are our shields tuned appropriately? If they’re not, I will kill you again in the afterlife!”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned to glance at his own holo-table, which was showing as scene much like the one Admiral Data was viewing.
“The star has been successfully seeded, sir.”
He looked up, then stood hurriedly. “Yes, pull up at once and get us some distance away.”
* * *
“What do you think? Should we intervene?”
“I’ve rather had enough of it. We could allow them this victory. Would do the galaxy some good.”
“I’d like to visit Admiral Data afterwards, and give him the opportunity to thank me.”
* * *
“Admiral, the star has suddenly calmed down. Nothing happened!”
Data moved over to look at the scans himself, unable to believe the Vorta had made a mistake when seeding the star. “Are you sure, lieutenant? What do the other ships make of it?”
“They are as confused as we are, sir, but they are still fleeing.”
Data nodded, a tad concerned about his. “Very well. Get us out of here.”
There are very few things he believed to be a possible reason for the star becoming stable again, a possibility being that Luaran had erred, which seem the most likely. But what if they were finally taking notice…
“How very nice to see you again, Data! And an admiral, even, and leading a rebellion! You never did seem the rebellious type.”
In response to instinct more than surprise, Data whirled around to find himself face to face with Q.
* * *
“They’re back, mistress. I thought we had chased them away the last time, after their war, but we were wrong. They’re everywhere, O Founder, like an infestation. The Jem’Hadar do not now how to handle them, and are defenseless. What do we do?”
“We, Luaran? This was your doing, Vorta. Now you must go find our salvation. You must go find again Weyoun.”
Countless wars have been fought over the centuries; hundreds during the era of space exploration. But never had the galaxy seen one like the Dominion War. None had ever expected an enemy to rise from the shadows of the “upper” part of the galaxy—the only true threat they believed to lay there was the Borg, and even they could do no more than dig their heels into the dirt and hold their ground when the Dominion came barging in. Perhaps, this in itself was the reason the Beta, and soon after the Alpha Quadrant, fell under the merciless might of the Dominion. The fact that none had ever foreseen a possible threat from the powers of the Gamma Quadrant could very well have been their undoing.
Throughout the past half century, this became all but blaringly obvious to those remaining leaders, figureheads, and high officers of the ramshackle rebel-armies. They could never afford to make such folly again, and the Dominion could never start. To that end, the Dominion was largely unsuccessful, and failed to register the sudden motion of rebelling forces, and when the sudden devastating activation of dozens of sleeper cells occurred, it was chalked up to coincidence.
So much the better for the rebels.
Impatience and intolerance have recently grown rampant. The Romulans have begun sending suicide runs into Dominion ship hangars; the Klingons have started staging smash-and-grabs; the Cardassians now sabotaging communication relays and filling subspace with ridiculous garble; the Breen have been noted to be shaking hands of agreement with the Borg, who’s borders are alive and crawling with cubes; and those who were part of what was once the Federation are rattling the bars of their prisons and breaking the backs of their jailors.
Now was their test of faith.
* * *
There were six. The Six. The powerheads of each rebellion faction, and it had taken much persuasion (arguing, shouting, threatening, punching, and shooting) to get them all together, with no other personnel present who might pass on the happenings to other sources. They were the six of the most radical, and the most motivated; and today was the day they would flesh out their aggressions and passions into a plan of action.
“We have all come, despite our misgivings, Admiral Data,” said Breen delegate Jango’Tor, his mechanical voice managing to convey his annoyance. The others sourly nodded heads in agreement and Data stood.
“And I thank you for working around them,” he replied curtly.
“I fail to see the need for diplomacy,” K’Tok growled. The Klingon delegate slapped his hand down forcefully on the table around which they were seated.
“You would,” Amrrh’i said snidely, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight sneer.
K’Tok glanced at the Romulan. “The way I see it, we were doing quite well as we were, shaking up the Dominion little by little.”
“We were no more than a thorn in their side,” said the Cardassian leader in his smooth voice. “Sooner or later, they would have swatted away our weak guerrilla tactics.”
“Indeed, Gamor.” The Borg Queen’s voice echoed oddly throughout the room. “It was very much a futile effort.”
“It was not futile,” K’Tok roared, standing up so suddenly and violently that it threw his chair back behind him. “And it certainly does more good than sitting here!”
Amrrh’i cast him a contemptuous glance, and said in a voice that made it quite evident that she was of the opinion that she was dealing with no more than an unruly child, “Sit down, you veruul, and behave yourself!”
K’Tok roughly pulled his chair back up, and Data briefly wondered if it had been a steep miscalculation on his part to seat next to each other the Romulan and Klingon leaders.
“I should hope you realize, ‘Admiral’ Data, that in order for this meeting to be of any worth at all, a massive, surgical strike is what we will have to devise, as we would not fell the Dominion with a prolonged war. It will have to end as soon as it has begun.”
“I concur, General Jango’Tor,” Amrrh'i said, and placed her hands on the table as if laying out a blueprint. “It must also, however, be a smooth operation.” She cast an appraising eye over the other Six. “I confess that I am doubtful of the outcome of such an enterprise.”
“Romulan paranoia…”
She continued, pointedly ignoring the Klingon, “While we are more or less unanimous in our goals, we will be without a doubt divided in our idea of the means, a prime example being Chancellor K’Tok, here, who preferred his style of ‘smash and grabs’ and ‘hit and runs’.”
Gamor inclined his head to her, his neck spines showing more prominently. “And what would you do, khre’Riov Amrrh’i, should it have been your sole call to make?”
“I would make one large motion vriha’Gamor,” she replied curtly. “I would mobilize all my forces at once, and attack in an instant, targeting those installations that would be key for the enemy to strike back, thus leaving them defenseless.”
“A wise plan, khre’Riov, but what after?” said Jango’Tor. “They would not stay defenseless for long, and you would have used up all of your resources, therefore unable to make the final blow.”
“The Borg would be willing to make such a coup de grace.”
Gamor cast the Queen a warily amused glance. “Indeed. But I am aware the Romulans have been spending their ship sources quite callously as of recently, and for the proposed plane to be of any consequence—,” he spare Amrrh’i a sideways glance. “—they would need much help, most likely from you dear Queen. Thus you would be unable to go about making any ‘coup de grace’.”
She looked unconvinced. “What of you?”
Gamor straightened importantly. “A large, continuous, ‘hit and run’ scenario, using the cloaking devices we… acquired from our Romulan associates.” He smile thinly at Amrrh’i.
“I think stole would be more appropriate, Gamor,” she said in a low, icy voice. Gamor shrugged dismissively.
“And of you, Admiral Data?” asked Jango’Tor, interrupting the silence that had fallen. “We have heard naught from you. What if we were to wage war on your terms, android?”
“A war on his terms would be no war at all,” K’Tok grumbled, earning him a terribly cold look from Amrrh’i.
Data shifted a tad uncomfortably under the stares of the others, aware that they were not actually waiting to hears his battle strategies, but instead a shpeal about diplomacy. While he was unofficially the leader of this meeting, as he had called it, they saw him as no more than an accessory to the means, and the key to the Free Dominion Confederacy’s resources than an actual warhead—the exception being perhaps the Borg Queen.
“To be honest, gentlemen,” he said, then added with nods to Amrrh’i and the Queen, “ladies; there really is not much I could suggest, at this point, short of agreeing with one of you.” He paused, and they stared at him expectantly, waiting to see who it was that he would side with. “However, in my opinion, it would be rather disastrous for the Six to be divided against each other. Herein, we must not act as Six, but as One, and there could be no better chance than now.”
“And how would you propose we do that, Admiral Data?” said Jango’Tor, and despite his nonemotional, mechanical monotone, Data had a sneaking suspicion that the Breen Patriarch was wearing a satisfied smile. The cunning Breen no doubt had purposefully maneuvered him into this position.
“We ought to combine our plans, effectively creating the one, decisive strike that would start and end the war for our freedom. As it was her idea, Praetor khre’Riov Amrrh’i could launch an attack on the Dominion hangars, out posts, and major applications, and if so was their desire, the Borg could aid in this.” At his pause, the Borg Queen nodded graciously, and Amrrh’i looked away grudgingly. Data gestured to Gamor. “You might put into effect your ‘hit and run’ scenario when the word is given by our female leaders, to all intents and purposes making you the ‘second wave’ to occupy those remaining Dominion ships,” he said, and Gamor simply sat stiffly in his chair, refusing to agree or shoot it down. “Then, amid the confusion, the Free Dominion Confederacy would launch an attack against the Founders with the help of the Breen Confederacy, if they would be so obliged.”
“Of course, Admiral Data,” Jango’Tor replied in a rather ungracious manner.
“And what of the Klingons, android,” K’Tok growled.
“The Klingons can cause whatever mayhem they would please among the Dominion ranks.”
At that, K’Tok smiled viciously.
* * *
Vorta Elite Luaran scowled. How utterly despicable that these people who call themselves the “Six” would plot an assault upon the Founders!—glory to them. The shear audacity. He did, however, allow himself a slight smile of satisfaction when arguing quite suddenly erupted on the other end of the listening line. For all their prestige and prowess, it escaped Luaran how it was that the Six would never check for any sort of spying devices amidst themselves. They were much too trusting of each other.
He glanced around the bridge of his massive attack cruiser at his Jem’Hadar crew manning the key systems. Down below his feet, ex-Federation slave-crewmembers were performing the grunt work. How ironic it was that the very people the Six were fighting to free would be the ones to fuel their destruction. The android leader of the “Free Dominion Confederacy”, Admiral Data, had thought himself so clever to host the meeting of the Six inside a large, hollowed out asteroid within Breen territory—as if he believed himself to be untouchable there. The Dominion still held clearance there, no matter how much Patriarch Jango’Tor might resent it. And now they were on their way to break up this little “meeting”. Sure, their spy would be lost, but they were only a pro tempore tool, and never a permanent instillation.
“We are approaching coordinates, sir.”
* * *
All at once in a thundering clamor, communicators wailed, chirped, beeped, and shrieked, and were simultaneously activated in a unanimous “What is it?”. In uncanny unison, communications officers on the other end of each line replied, “Dominion massivecruiser incoming!”, which was followed by a loud chorus of swearing and then “beam me up!”s.
Outside the artificial environment-oriented asteroid that had been their meeting place, five other massivecruisers and a Borg cube just as large decloaked as one entity. While each of the massivecruisers was obviously native of its home faction of its over-all design, they were distinctly all of the Anarchy design. Each was triangular in shape, with upper and under dorsal-fin style nacelles and auto-turrets menacing along it’s spines running down the sides.
Starlight flickered bright and blinding along their hulls as they arranged themselves into a loose globular formation with the speed of much smaller ships.
* * *
“Sir, they identify themselves as the FDSS Freelancer, Patriot, Revolution, Defiance, Freedomfire, and Malevolent.”
Luaran swallowed slowly, feeling himself go paler than usual. This was not what he had hoped for. Engagement would no doubt result in he and his ship being reduced to sub-atomic particles.
“Sir?”
“What?” he snapped at First Hekt’Oran. The Jem’Hadar glared at him in return, and Luaran felt his face flush. “Excuse me, First.” He turned away, however, not bothering with any more than that. When he had an order he would tell them. I must think of a way out of this!
“Tormet’Khan, which one is their flagship?”
“Unknown, sir. They all are of the same ship-rank.”
Luaran sighed. Of course. After all, they were the Six, and one thing they had pointedly made clear was that despite whatever rank they held back home, when together, none was superior to another. “Fine,” he said. “Hail the Free Dominion Confederacy cruiser. We will have a better chance of what I have in mind with the android.”
Tormet’Khan complied, and after a moment, the figure of Admiral Data filled the screen, the android shadowed by the massive battle bridge.
“I am Vorta Elite Luaran, servant of the Founders, and we are the Dominion massivecruiser Alpha. On the behalf of the Dominion, we ask you to cease and desist.”
* * *
Data discretely motioned for an officer to feed the communication to the other ships. “I am Admiral Data,” he replied, unfazed by the Vorta’s attempt at authority. “We are the Free Dominion Confederate ship Patriot.” Whether or not the Vorta was affected by this at all, he could not tell as the Vorta seemed to wear a constant look of alarm. “We must refuse your request, however.”
“Then you leave us no choice.”
Data furrowed his brow. “You are making the assumption you could defeat us.”
Luaran smiled slyly. “Oh no, admiral. I don’t have to defeat you.” Then abruptly the transmission ended, leaving Data and the rest of the Six in bewilderment to what he had meant. It soon became all too apparent to Data when Amrrh’i cried overt the ship-to-shipwide relay, “He’s seeding the star!”
There was confusion over the channels, as only the Romulans seemed to know what this meant, and their ship was breaking formation and fleeing. Data racked his memory banks hoping to find what it was that had caused Praetor khre’Riov Amrrh’i to run. There was only one match and while it was old—dating back to the era of James T. Kirk—there was no doubt. The Dominion had somehow gotten a hold of the Romulan project “Sunseed”, and were planning on seeding with it the white supermassive star lying but two hundred thousand kilometers away and baking their shields. Seeding a star would cause the corona of said star to become unstable, releasing a giant wave of ionization that in most cases could destroy whole starships. But with a star of this magnitude, it would cause such a giant wave that it would raze anything within a four-light-year radius.
“Get us out of here!” he shouted. “Broadcast a mayday to the other ships! They must flee now!” There was no way to tune their shields to compensate for the wave, there were too many variables, and Luaran’s massivecruiser was already diving towards the star in what looked form their angle to be a nosedive. If they were to make it out in time, they would have to leave now. He glanced at the holo-table which was displaying a realtime holo of what was happening around them. Alpha was starting to pull up from the star, firing photons and phasers into its fires. In the center were the five ships breaking formation and preparing to run, and on the very fringe of the table was the Romulan cruiser Freedomfire already almost out of danger with her haste.
“All hands brave for emergency high-energy warp vault!”
* * *
Luaran could feel the palms of his hand sweating. How unnatural, he thought as he stared into the mega-filtered fire of the star they were seeding. “Are our shields tuned appropriately? If they’re not, I will kill you again in the afterlife!”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned to glance at his own holo-table, which was showing as scene much like the one Admiral Data was viewing.
“The star has been successfully seeded, sir.”
He looked up, then stood hurriedly. “Yes, pull up at once and get us some distance away.”
* * *
“What do you think? Should we intervene?”
“I’ve rather had enough of it. We could allow them this victory. Would do the galaxy some good.”
“I’d like to visit Admiral Data afterwards, and give him the opportunity to thank me.”
* * *
“Admiral, the star has suddenly calmed down. Nothing happened!”
Data moved over to look at the scans himself, unable to believe the Vorta had made a mistake when seeding the star. “Are you sure, lieutenant? What do the other ships make of it?”
“They are as confused as we are, sir, but they are still fleeing.”
Data nodded, a tad concerned about his. “Very well. Get us out of here.”
There are very few things he believed to be a possible reason for the star becoming stable again, a possibility being that Luaran had erred, which seem the most likely. But what if they were finally taking notice…
“How very nice to see you again, Data! And an admiral, even, and leading a rebellion! You never did seem the rebellious type.”
In response to instinct more than surprise, Data whirled around to find himself face to face with Q.
* * *
“They’re back, mistress. I thought we had chased them away the last time, after their war, but we were wrong. They’re everywhere, O Founder, like an infestation. The Jem’Hadar do not now how to handle them, and are defenseless. What do we do?”
“We, Luaran? This was your doing, Vorta. Now you must go find our salvation. You must go find again Weyoun.”
