Episode 2.3.6: The Reckoning

== S2, E3, Act 1: The Reckoning ==
Commander Mayla Vree
War Room, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2005.05
The trio of operatives from Phoenix Team all stood around the holographic display console with every piece of data they had compiled about their current situation. Lazarus stood at the primary control panel with his arms folded across his chest waiting for his team to come up with ideas of their current predicament.
By Thompson's side, they could see the portable computer's lights and small display screen working on the information he was able to download from the Bird of Prey before they lost contact. In front of him were the sensor logs from the Resurrection itself to cross reference with and synchronize events quickly so they could work out the course the Bird of Prey took to get to the rendezvous.
In front of Jahkar were all the Klingon affiliated information they had on the dreadnought, the events at the Kosh'korvak shipyards, and all the visually identifying markings the Resurrection computers collected during their last battle. He also added his own impressions of the Klingons he encountered on the Invincible, correlated with those Mayla had also fought with. Singled out into a list were armor design, insignias, weapons, even obvious visual scars that might identify any of the crew.
In front of Mayla was a navigational map of their current location. The Resurrection had left the battle area and had run one crazy ivan while skirting along the Klingon border in case they were in any way being tracked or pursued.
"What were Captain Delan's orders after they were done with the transfer?" Mayla asked, staring at the charts for some place to off load the Invincible crew and ponder their next move. Deep Space K-7 was the closest starbase, and their current course was headed in that general direction.
"Regardless of what his orders were, he needs to report in to Starfeet that the prisoner transfer was sabotaged." Lazarus said with a gruff voice. "And as of now, the original Klingon ship receiving the prisoner should also be reporting in by now. The Klingons are going to know something has gone wrong with the transfer when they don't hear from them."
"I'm surprised the Empire sent only one ship," Jahkar commented, looking at the meager specifications they had for the IKS Ma’vhQ. "For a prisoner exchange this important and connected to the chancellor, I would think they would have sent a squadron of ships to assure success."
"Good point," Lazarus said.
Mayla pointed at the icon that was Deep Space K-7. "We can drop off the survivors there. It's the closest starbase. But we need to address first what to do with Krang. Do we return him to the Federation," she paused for a moment, "or do we deliver him directly to Qo'nos."
That ominous comment silenced the room instantly. Even the portable computer stopped beeping for a moment. The three operatives looked to Lazarus, who was looking at the charts trying to get a bigger picture of their situation. Legion seemed to be everywhere regardless of borders.
"So one option is to go to K7, then go to Qo'nos. As soon as Delan reports in, Legion will know where we are at. And Starfleet will know we disobeyed direct orders and commandeered the mission from the Invincible." Lazarus had already been thinking of his response to Starfleet when that inevitable conversation was going to come.
"We can go to Qo'nos first, hand Krang directly to the Chancellor unannounced, and then drop off the Invincible crew at K7." Mayla tapped a few commands into the console to bring up distance figures for both trips. "So technically, we helped Captain Delan complete his mission."
Jahkar listened to the conversation and slowly shook his head in a negative response. “Handing Krang over to Martok is the same as turning him over to the Ghost Clan. Martok is blinded by his wife being a hostage...we have Krang, we can use him as a bargaining chip with his people. If nothing else, we could even use him as bait.”
Mayla looked at him. "Are you suggesting we use Krang to get to Ghost Clan, and rescue Martok's wife?"
Jahkar waved to the dismal amount of information they had on Ghost Clan. "It's a suggestion."
"If we use him as bait, we'll need to open a conversation with the Ghost Clan. That exposes our presence." Mayla looked over to Lazarus. "In the whole scope of things, our main concern is to stop Legion."
"Even at the expense of Martok's wife and the status quo of the Klingon Empire?" Thompson said. 
"We can't allow ourselves to get sidetracked," Mayla said, pondering what few options they had.
Jahkar’s brow furrowed, “I would assume they already know of our presence. Not many Starfleet ships running around with cloaking devices, let alone a phased cloak. And it is likely Krang’s people are working with Legion. The destabilization of the Klingon Empire, its collapse, it all fits into their playbook.”
“Getting Delan and his crew off this ship is crucial. If they decide to turn against us they could jeopardize this operation,” Jahkar said. “Dropping them at K-7 would be sufficient. Then, as much as I know you disagree commander, I think we use Krang to bait a trap for that dreadnought. If they are working with Legion, we could bag two birds with one stone.”
Mayla smiled at his option. "And we can leave the bait with Delan and his crew." She gave Lazarus a nod. "Delan will report in, telling them we have Krang and what he knows of our next move. It seems to me the good captain is sore at us for interfering despite us saving most of his crew. I have no doubt he would tell his superiors everything about us to get on their good side to cover up his failed mission."
"So we keep Delan in the dark, but 'leak' out the bait to a member of his crew." Jahkar suggested. "Legion will hear of it over the subspace relays, and that information gets relayed to the Ghost Klan."
"All we need is the type of bait that doesn't look too obvious," Thompson said.
Lazarus chimed in, “So where do you propose we leave Delan, his crew and Krang? And what about Commander Chas’naH?”
USS Fearless
Operating Near the Klingon/Federation Border
Stardate 2005.05
While the Resurrection was dealing with the situation several sectors away along the Klingon border, Admiral Ian MacLeod and his crew aboard USS Fearless were continuing surveillance along the border. Using the Sovereign-class starship’s sensors and highly attuned listening equipment to probe for any indication of what was transpiring internally within the Klingon Empire, the ship was maintaining its proximity mainly so it could respond if needed on the spur of the moment by Resurrection.
MacLeod was in his Ready Room when the intercom chimed on his desk. It was Commander Xena Alantris, his Betazoid XO. “Admiral, Federation runabout just came out of warp in this sector. Its transponder is running Admiral Sorvek’s ID code.”
The Scot bristled and stood up, “On my way.” A moment later MacLeod was on the bridge and saw the runabout approaching, still transmitting the code.
Alantris turned from her chair, “Should we decloak.”
“The runabout isn’t transmitting on any frequencies?” he asked.
“Negative,” said Lt. Commander Savage at tactical. “No comm activity. But it is scanning the area.”
“The transponder code,” Lt. Lo-ree reported from communications. “It’s erratic. It’s cutting in and out.”
MacLeod walked around from the aft part of the bridge to stand over Lo-ree, where he examined the readouts from the transponder frequency. “That’s damned peculiar.”
“Admiral,” Savage said at tactical. “I’m detecting one lifesign aboard the runabout. Trill.”
MacLeod was listening, though he was absorbed in studying the erratic transmission from the runabout’s transponder. He snatched a datapadd of the station beside Lo-ree and began to use the keypad on the face of the device to input data.
“That’s not an erratic transmission,” he muttered. “It’s Morse code. It’s a message.”
Alantris stood and walked around the ramp to the upper part of the bridge where MacLeod stood over the comm-station, “Morse code? You can read it?”
MacLeod smiled, “A little rusty, but I can read it. It’s Lt. Commander Preet. Sorvek sent her. She said we shouldn’t send any transmissions. Wants to come aboard.”
Alantris scowled. “We’d have to dephase.”
“Do it,” MacLeod said. “Send no transmissions. Open the hangar bay to allow her to land.”
“Aye sir,” she said.
Moments later, Vala Preet was greeted in the hangar by MacLeod and Alantris. As she exited the runabout, MacLeod received word from the bridge that the ship had phase cloaked again and was awaiting orders.
“Commander Preet,” said MacLeod. “Message received. Nice work. So, tell me, what in the bloody hell is happening.”
Preet explained everything that had transpired as she, MacLeod and Alantris made their way through Fearless and up to the captain’s Ready Room where she finished explaining the issue with the nanite infested communications relays and the compromised security they were facing.
She continued by telling MacLeod about the team’s interest in the Krang handover, which is where she believed the Resurrection was heading. MacLeod nodded, “I was told by President Gant and Admiral Zhao from Starfleet Intelligence to stay away from the Krang handover.”
“Oh,” said Preet, reaching into a pocket. “There was this too. Sorvek said to give this to you.”
MacLeod took the holodisk and studied it for a moment. He considered sending Preet and Alantris out, but decided they were all in this together so there would be no secrets. He took the disk and inserted it into a port on the desktop, before offering up a handprint as verification of his identity. A moment later, Admiral Sorvek’s holographic image appeared across the table from them.
The Vulcan’s gaze fell on the group, though they all knew this was a recording, it seemed like he was really there. “Greetings Admiral MacLeod. If you’re watching this, then Commander Preet was successful in reaching you. I am sure she has brought you up to speed on what has transpired, and I am certain you already know to maintain communications silence.
“I’ve sent this message because there are other issues I believe we are facing,” said the Vulcan. “Prior to sending Preet on her mission, I was called into a meeting with President Gant. In the meeting he gave me reason to believe he and Admiral Zhao are watching Shadow Operations closely. They knew the Resurrection’s shuttle was in San Francisco and were curious as to Lt. Commander Preet’s reasons for being there. Gant also told me he thinks Resurrection should be reassigned to the exploratory branch of Starfleet and that Shadow Operations should be shut down again.
“It is my opinion, admiral, that the president himself may be aligned with Legion,” said Sorvek. “The evidence is, at best, circumstantial, but if nothing else, I seriously question his loyalties to the Federation. Enclosed on this disk is every file available from the database on Aaron Gant, allowing you to conduct a thorough investigation without accessing records remotely.
“I am leaving Earth and will be testing a theory I have that may or may not confirm my suspicions about the president,” said Sorvek. “Afterwards, I will make for Ops Base One. That is where you will find me when you are ready to regroup. Be wary, my friend. Live long and prosper. Sorvek out.”
The image of Sorvek faded and MacLeod turned to Alantris and Preet. “Take the data Sorvek sent and begin an investigation into the president. I’m putting you two on this, no discussion with any other crew members.”
“Do you think Admiral Sorvek is right?” the Betazoid asked.
“Gant has been opposed to us ever since he became president,” MacLeod said. “And during this, a time when Legion has shown itself and is a plausible threat to the Federation and its allies, Gant looks to hinder us rather than help us get to the bottom of the dilemma.”
“He’s either in league with Legion…” Preet began.
“Or he’s a bloody idiot,” MacLeod grumbled. “I just want you two on this. Investigating the president is…well…without authorization it could be considered treason.”
Alantris nodded, “Understood.”
“Likewise,” said Preet. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
MacLeod sighed, “Keep me informed.”
Captain Tarika
Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.05
It was dark and drizzly that night the Tachi Koma landed at her berth in the southern part of the ring of berths surrounding the Rajaran District. With nearly one hundred berths, the District could accommodate many ships at the same time who wanted to do pretty much any various types of business.
With the hood pulled over her head of her shin length cloak, she briskly walked through the crowd keenly aware of each person taking note of her, then continuing on with their own business. Beneath the cloak she had her right hand on her knife at her belt and her left hand on her phaser. She didn't bring her tan qalanq sword that she modified enough to not immediately be recognized as a Qowat Milat weapon, but had her short katana, a Japanese wakizashi, in a hidden sheath at the small of her back. Without the hilt showing and hidden beneath her cloak, no one would suspect she had it.
In her eyes, she had the contact lenses that gave her augmented reality readouts from the tricorder she had running at her belt. She could now have them surgically implanted into her eyes permanently, something she'll probably have done once her assignment here was over. As she walked down the wet streets, the readouts in her eyes identified lifeforms and everything her specialized surveillance tricorder could pick up. She could see outlines of lifeforms in the buildings, identify the contents of any strew crate lying on the ground, what it could detect through windows of each building, scans of people walking by and if they had any weapons, even indicators of certain wavelengths of energy and communication signals emanating from people's homes.
Tarika was on her way to one of her 'eyes and ears' in the city, one of many she had employed to keep her abreast of what was going on in their particular sector of the district. The Rajaran District, known to the locals as The Hole-In-The-Wall district, encompassed several sectors each with its own unofficial gangster in charge. These different factions within the city only worked together because they know everything, they do is mutually beneficial for all involved in dealing with the three empires surrounding the planet. No one wanted to upset that balance and potential of losing the business of an entire empire. Business was too lucrative.
She walked down a quiet street behind one of the less popular brothels towards a small shop who's owner tinkered with the various tech garbage he finds in the street or the ringed spaceport. He mostly made often used household appliances, trinkets, and gadgets for anyone who found various needs for it. She had met him when her ship needed a phase converter for her replicator systems. The one he sold her wasn't standard, but a mixture of different technologies that performed the same function.
There was a light streaming from the row of high windows lined with various items. It lit up the street in front of the store as she walked up to the door. She knocked at the windowless door and in a moment slid open, admitting her entry. Inside, shelves lined the walls packed with different items and trinkets from decorative to practical. It looked like a tinkerer's treasure trove. 
She glanced at the sign beside the door that said, 'If you look long enough, you'll find what you're looking for.'
"May I help you?" A clanless male Acamarian inquired as he came through a doorway from the backroom where she knew his workshop was at. He stopped behind the counter.
She raised her head slightly to show him her face in the light. "Hello Keaes, how are you this evening?"
He just gave her a nod and went to retrieve an item on the sixth shelf up behind him. It was a small palm sized part that connected a bio neural gel pack directly to a portable data module. He brought it down to what he called his 'counter of business' and laid it on a clear spot among other items. He manipulated a few of the extrusions on the item before opening a compartment. With a slight of hand he deftly placed a small isolinear chip inside in a motion that didn't indicate that's what he was doing. He closed the panel and held it up to her. He pressed a key and the item lit up as if it was functioning. In reality, it was nothing more than a secured lockbox made to look like a spare part for something.
She placed five strips of latinum on the counter and reached for the item in his hand. But he pulled away slowly and gave her a wide closed lip smile.
"You know I have a name."
She shook her head. "If I know your name, you could be found. I will only use the name I have given you."
"We've done business together for years and I still don't know anything about you." He handed the item to her.
"It's better if you don't, for your own safety. Just continue the task I've given to you and our business together will continue." Tarika looked at the movement her tricorder picked up in his back room. It had the outline of a nude female. "I will leave you to your vices," she said as she pocketed the item.
His face fell and just waved her to leave. Without another word, she opened the door and looked up and down the street before heading in the opposite direction the way she came. She headed towards another sector, another one of her Keaes in the city.
It took her two blocks to pick up the tail. She knew this one, the way he limped a little on his left leg. One of Gaish's 'eyes'. Why was he having her followed?
She stopped at a restaurant and entered without caring what type of food it served. Inside the dining room had only late night patrons, each one in different levels of intoxication and progressed through their meal. The sounds of conversation wafted from each table as if the ceiling was made to echo each conversation to anyone who wanted to listen. A large Cardassian female server gestured Tarika to a table near a makeshift bar, but she shook her head and pointed to a vacant table on one side so she could watch the door. The Cardassian gave her a nod and Tarika wended around several tables to get to it. She made note of the several Andorian, Ferengi, humans, Romulans, and even a Klingon in the restaurant that her tricorder was making note of and identifying those it had in its databanks linked to the Tachi Koma. The latter two surprised her to see both of them together in the same room and not fighting.
Arriving at her table, she adjusted her wakizashi with a slight movement of her hand disguised as pulling aside her cloak as she sat down onto the bench seat attached to the wall. She looked over the menu displayed on a terminal in the table and she randomly chose two dishes. Then she put her right hand on the table in front of her, her left hand on her phaser, and waited.
Commander T’Aayla Rallius
Lieutenant Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Liral and Lyral D'Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.11
Rallius looked at the images as she listened to Liral. “I guess funny jokes are subject to the humor of the person it’s being told to. I don’t find that funny.”
She gestured to the images, “Explain?”
Liral pointed to the one with Ryramorl first.  “Newsfeed from a meeting of the OverKings.  Everyone who knows much about the OverKings knows the names of the bodyguards.  The image of you takes a bit more explanation.  I told you last time I recognized your outfit because this guy”--here he pointed to a name--”tried to hire us to take out your father and his family.  We didn’t want to do it because either the rest of the House Of Raillius or the whole Romulan Empire would be wearing our pelts.  Latinum’s nice, but ‘There are no merchants in the Realm Of The Dead,’ as the saying goes.  Still, we kept the information--just in case it became useful.”  He leaned back.  “So, why does Shor-Ghan’s goon and someone from the House of Raillius want to deal with Gaish?”
He looked at Ryramorl first, who answered.  “I’m loyal to Shor-Ghan himself.  Maybe his son Shor-Tal, if he recovers enough.  I’m NOT loyal to the Ro’ar tribe.”  Liral’s eyes narrowed--he could tell Ryramorl was hiding something.  Ryramorl sighed.  “Shor-Ghan still holds a grudge against Gaish for arming the uprising that took down the Republic.  I am here for Gaish himself.”  It was not the truth, but it was a truth--Gaish had indeed done so, and Shor-Ghan had been furious.  
Liral nodded, accepting that explanation, then turned to T’Aayla.  “And the House of Raillius?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss House Raillius matters with you at this time,” she said. “I hope you understand?”
Liral and Lyral looked at each other, then nodded.  “Fair enough,” Liral said.  He then looked at Reepchip, but Ryramorl spoke up.  “Reepchip keeps my ship running.”
Liral nodded.  “So the scent I’m smelling is you’re both after Gaish, and agreed to growl over the prey AFTER it’s been taken down.  That about sum it up?”  
When the three Shadow Ops agents agreed, Liral leaned back.  “All right, Ryramorl, this is gonna cost you.  You know that.”
Ryramorl wrote on some paper and handed it over.  “You know where Special Forces are.  They’ll cover it.”
Liral took the note and glanced at it.  “...Shor-Ghan has a sharp thorn in his tail.”  He then turned to Raillius.  “You need to understand that Gaish is a major supplier for us.  If he goes, we’re going to have to look for another one.  Think the House of Raillius will be willing to be that supplier, or help us find one?”
T’Aayla nodded, “We will help you find a supplier. Our resources are...limited since the destruction of Romulus and the upheaval within the Romulan government. But we do enough business abroad that someone can fill that position for you.”
“It is agreed, then!” said Lyral.  “We’ll talk to our contact, and then we’ll use your original story with Gaish.  I think he’s still upset that the old uprising was a dud, but Third Name Rolandhar in the La’an Tribe of Ro’ar is…” He looked at T’Aayla.  “Not sure of the Romulan equivalent, Skyy, but I think the human term would be ‘power-hungry little shit,’ especially with Shor-Talo crippled.”  He used her assumed name as a means of reassurance.  
Liral set up the joke again.  “So, the daughter of Senator Raillius and Shor-Ghan’s personal goon walk into a bar.”
Lyral responded. “And Gaish prays he can still have Oo-mox.”
Liral grinned at T’Aayla--teeth and all.  “Even you must admit that’s a very funny joke.”
“Hysterical,” she said, deadpan. She handed Liral an isolinear chip. “This is contact information for a Romulan arms dealer House Raillius does business with. The dealer’s name is Vanerat, he is discreet, efficient and well connected. I’ll let him know you’ll be in contact.”
“Thank you.”  Liral went and fetched five cups, giving one to each.  “Let us share water!”
Captain Tarika
Wayside Restaurant, Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.11
With one eye on the door and another on her plate, she started nibbling on the bland food that the cook attempted to use some sort of animal fat to add flavor to it. Even the mushrooms didn't taste like mushrooms. But she did like the leg bone of the animal, whatever it was. Now that had some flavor to it. Maybe it was yesterday's leftovers. No replicated food here.
At that moment, the door to the restaurant opened and two newcomers entered the place. One was a Bolian, a male, dressed in gray clothing. He was accompanied by a Gorn, seven-foot tall with hulking muscles and ferocious teeth and claws.
The Bolian surveyed the room and his eyes fell upon Tarika. With a smile he headed over to her table, the Gorn in tow. When he reached her table, he sat down without asking and the Gorn came to stand several feet away, keeping a wary eye on the rest of the patrons.
“I am Nadel, I represent Mr. Gaish,” said the Bolian. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested?”
Tarika first eyed the Bolian, then the Gorn. "I know who you are, Nadel. And Rek." She said almost with an annoying tone as she looked the Gorn up and down. "Gaish knew I was coming to see him when I got back. Why didn't he just wait to ask me then?" She asked, keeping her left hand on her phaser at her thigh, pointed in his direction.
He brought out a contract padd with the deal on it and placed it on the table between them. He gestured for her to place her hand on one end of the padd while his was on the other. With just a moment's hesitation, she complied and put a fist on the touchpad. The back of her hand tingled as it instantly created a direct subvocal communication transmitted through the body's electrical neural network that cannot be overheard or intercepted. A low hum sounded as the transmissions data stream was also encrypted.
"It is a sensitive matter, Captain." There was a flash of light in front of his eyes to indicate he had sensory nodules implanted at his temples. It gave him a 360 degree view of his surroundings in a transparent image in front of his eyes. He wasn't concerned at all with his back to the door, even with the Gorn backing him up. "He wanted to keep this quiet and away from prying ears within his Hove."
"I see," she said, taking a glance around the room at the other patrons if any of them might be listening. "So what is he offering?"
"He is offering you full membership into his hierarchy upon completion of this contract." His voice resonated as the padd encrypted the voice pattern and tone. "You'll receive the benefits of a monthly base salary, access to his security and intelligence networks, paid living quarters while you are in town, and a crew assigned to maintain your ship with labor and parts all provided by Mr. Gaish. You will retain your independent status and allowed full contract payments as normal from any other contractor."
She was surprised. This was certainly unexpected and very generous, especially for a Ferengi. So generous that it made her intently suspicious. "Must be a big job."
The Bolian's face remained neutral. Despite the stereotypical image of a placid bolian, Nadel was anything but. He was in one of Gaish's formidable circle of bodyguards, much more well trained and menacing than the Naasicans he always had at his side. For every Naausican guard he had with him, there was at least one other of this man's type circulating the immediate area, always watching and willing to give up their lives to protect Gaish. 
"An important job. He needs seven pallets of cargo picked up and delivered, discreetly."
"What's the cargo?"
Nadel smiled, looking around cautiously before he spoke, “Advance drone technology recovered from an archaeological site on Minos in the Tharnos System.”   
"Where is the pick up?"
"In a hidden and shielded facility on Nevra, the seventh planet in the same system."
That was in Federation space. "I doubt Starfleet would give up such an archaeological discovery." Tarika asked. "Are they expecting someone to come pick it up, or do I have to steal it?"
Nadel shook his head. "You are hired to make the delivery. That's all. No questions asked."
"Where am I to take it?" She asked as her final question. She knew if she pressed any further, suspicions might arise. 
"The Septimus System, in the Cardassian Union,” Nadel said. “You’ll sneak across the border into Cardassian space and rendezvous with a ship at a specific set of coordinates.”
Her eyes turned up just a millimeter as the star chart mapped out the destination in her eyes. "That's in Neerou's domain."
Neerou was the only female Orion sector boss on Kazis IX, and her territory covered a large sector of Cardassian space. Being a female Orion in power was rare. Most people stereotype her race as sex symbols, which she uses to her advantage whenever she could. It was rumored she had various highly illegal wet implants in her brain that gave her augmented intellect. In where the implants could actually destroy a brain of certain races, maybe it worked to enhance her's.
Even criminals followed the rules of territory. As long as they stay within their own operational territory, they can coexist together amicably. This was indeed a true smuggler's contract. Performing this contract without getting caught by anyone was paramount. Or tantamount to professional and personal suicide if she were caught.
The man gave her a hint of a nod. "It is."
"That's dangerous for all parties involved. I run the risk of losing all future contracts with her."
"Compared to a contract on Mr. Gaish's head if she were to ever find out," he said as just one corner of his mouth turned upward as if trying to smile. Or maybe it was amusement.
"When does he need an answer?"
"He requires your immediate answer and departure. It is time sensitive. Cardassian space is far from here."
Tarika had to look at all the angles of the offer. Having access to Gaish's intelligence network would be a boon for Starfleet Intelligence. But that also meant it made her job that much more difficult. She needed a little bit of time to think about it. But she wanted the deal sweetened, as is expected in a negotiation. And all Ferengi love negotiations.
"Tell him I also want a copy of his sector key."
The Bolian smiled. "I will make that...suggestion to him."
Tarika returned the smile, knowing that it was nearly impossible for a sector boss to give a copy of his key to anyone. The key not only gave him access to many doors as an upper echelon citizen on Kazis IX, it also gave him the same access throughout his operational territory. Anyone with a sector key will have access to all resources available to him within his own territory. And sometimes, even a rival's territory.
"I'll meet with Gaish in an hour to give him my answer in person." She took her fist off the padd. "I want to finish my dinner."
Liral and Lyral D'Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.11
After meeting with T’Aayla, Ryramorl and Ryramorl’s engineer--if this Reepchip was an agent of Rissa, well, Rissa would be watching the fight brew with anticipation--a chance to become not just Overking of the Muran, but of all the Carnora.  Both brothers knew the trio were still hiding something, but Liral had convinced his brother not to press any further.  They’d gotten some truths, but The Truth was an elusive and possibly poisonous prey.
At The Perdition’s Flame, which they knew to be one of Gaish’s favourite restaurants, they found the Ferengi.  After paying him slips of latinum for the privilege of sitting with him, Liral started off.  “How would you like to see the two most powerful Olvern tribes slug it out over who gets to provide the next Overking?” he asked.
Gaish
The Perdition’s Flame
Stardate 2005.14
Gaish, a Ferengi arms dealer, sat in his corner booth. To his left was a young, beautiful Orion woman in a blue dress. To his right, a human woman in a short, gold dress. Around them, standing and seated at adjoining tables, were a total of eight burly Klingons -- members of Gaish personal guard, the Klingon mercenary group called the ‘Iw wey, or Blood Company.
Gaish was short, even by Ferengi standards. Standing at about four-feet in height, Gaish had a condition humans once called dwarfism. His father was a strong believer in natural forms of medicine and declined to allow Ferengi doctors to perform genetic modification on his unborn son when the condition was detected in utero. As a result, Gaish had suffered the traditional conditions of a small body and unusually large cranium.
Still, the condition had not stopped Gaish from becoming one of the most powerful arms dealers in the quadrant. He’d overcome adversity and rose to power, usurping several other Ferengi gangsters to take his place among the most powerful and feared arms dealers. His clients were many and he specialized in a variety of weapons and military equipment.
When one of his bodyguards brought him several slips of latinum and a request to meet with a couple of Carnora who wished to have his attention, Gaish sighed and set his fork down on a plate filled with wiggling grubs. 
He considered the request a moment, the Klingon, Kraal, standing there in black armor, ready to eject the Carnora if Gaish so ordered. Finally he grabbed up the latinum and pocketed it. “Oh fine! Send them over...but keep an eye on them.”
Kraal nodded and turned back toward Liral and Lyral D'Hronarin who were waiting by the door to the Flame. He motioned for them to come over and as they walked past the Klingon muttered under his breath, “When he says your time is up, then he’s done. Understood?”
Once they were seated, Gaish, who looked like a child seated at the table, looked up from his grubs and stared at the Carnora. “How would you like to see the two most powerful Olvern tribes slug it out over who gets to provide the next Overking?” Liral asked.
Gaish snickered, “I could really care less about watching. If they want weapons, I can arrange that. Now get to the point...the ladies and I have a date tonight. We’re going to the races and then maybe some dabo at the casino.”
Liral and Lyral D'Hronarin
The Perdition’s Flame
Stardate 2005.014
“First Name Ryramorl in the La’an Tribe of Ra’yral--the brother of the Ra’yral High Chief--is here on planet, looking to buy weapons.  Seems he’s been having some difficulty dealing with people here, because he’s being helped out by a Romulan mercenary named Skyy--and she’s the one who brought him to us.”  He smirked.  “You know the kind, grow up in a rich family, no idea how to deal with us commoners.”  He turned serious.  “He’s here looking to arm his tribe, but energy weapons are a pain in the ass to get in the Antevas System.  We’ve done business with you enough to know that you’re his best bet.”
Lyral slid a padd over to Gaish, showing security stills of three figures in the D’Hronarin’s own headquarters.  “This is Skyy, the mercenary Ryramorl’s dealing with.  This big Olvern is Ryramorl himself.  And the Muran is Reepchip, Ryramorl’s engineer.”
Gaish looked at the images as he devoured another handful of grubs. Chewing, he studied them closely and finally snorted. “Again, I don’t care who the players are. Is their latinum good? Do they have a lot of it? That’s what I care about. Bring me a list of what any of them needs and show me the latinum and I’ll arm them all to the teeth.”
Yevgeni Ibragimov
Deep Space Nine
Stardate 2005.14
Satisfied with the arrangement, Yevgeni, Tiri and Cody made their way from the backroom at Quark’s back out into the club. As they walked toward the Promenade, Yevgeni spotted a figure moving through the crowd and he turned to greet her as she emerged from the people milling about in the casino.
“Major Ro Laren!” Yevgeni exclaimed., throwing his arms out to embrace the Bajoran. Dressed in a Bajoran militia uniform, Ro had only a wry grin as Yevgeni greeted her. She accepted the hug and then stepped back.
“Yevgeni, what are you doing here?” she asked, her tone sounding a little annoyed.
“Is that any way to greet former comrade from the Maquis?” the big Russian asked, feigning hurt at her cold reception. “You remember the Maquis…the organization you infiltrated for Starfleet?”
“Yes, the same organization I ended up joining and left Starfleet,” she said, icily. “A move that landed me in a Starfleet stockade for two years before the Bajoran government made a deal and sprung me.”
Ibragimov grinned, “Which is what landed you here…as security chief. I figured by now you would be Starfleet office again.”
“No,” she said, looking to Tiri and Cody. “Captain Kira tried to have me reinstated to Starfleet when she joined and was placed in command of DS9, but they wouldn’t allow me back. So, I’ve remained with the militia in charge of security here.”
“And an excellent job you do, Ro,” he said. “These are my friends.” He turned to the others, “Sasal Th'taoleq and Wade Carson.”
Tiri stepped up and shook hands with the legendary Ro Laren, who’d served on the Enterprise-D many years ago, “We’re more like clients.”
Ro nodded, “Clients. Yevgeni, what have I told you about conducting mercenary operations here on the station?”
Ibragimov again appeared hurt, “Mercenary operations? Yevgeni has gone legal…they chartered my ship and this is stop off before I take them on to visit colonies near Cardassian border. Nothing illegal!”
“You’d better not,” she growled. “Captain Kira has made it clear that she doesn’t like mercenaries and criminals conducting business on the station.”
“Yevgeni agrees completely,” he said. “Nothing illegal will happen.”
She looked at the Russian, and then to the Shadow Ops team, “It better not,” Ro said, she then started to walk away, when she stopped and looked back at him with a grin, “Good to see you, Yevgeni.”
“You too Ro,” he smiled. When she was gone, he turned to Tiri and Cody. “We have a few hours before we get an answer. Have fun on station, stay on the ship – whatever you want to do. Yevgeni will be here for a while. The dabo tables are calling my name.”
He then turned and lumbered off toward the playing tables. Leaving Tiri and Cody near the bar…
Archangel and the Seraphim
Legion Headquarters
Stardate 2005.15
In all, there were 20 Seraphim in the organization known at the Legion. Each was assigned a different cell to command, scattered throughout the Alpha Quadrant. There was one thing in common about all Seraphim – each was once an intelligence operative, soldier or special forces who were disavowed, left for dead or betrayed by their government.
The years prior to the coming of Archangel, the Legion was an unorganized mess. The membership had been mostly the same, the mission was more or less the same, but there had been no clear means of accomplishing that goal.
Legion sought the downfall of the governments that had betrayed its membership. In those early days, they tried to accomplish this mission with assassinations, bombings and hostage taking. But after several years, all they’d truly managed to do was infuriate the military throughout the quadrant and bring harsh attacks down upon themselves.
Then Archangel came. A mysterious figure who emerged just after the failure of Legion’s Kazis IX mission. He came to them with the offer of assistance to redefine the group’s goals and rebuild the organization from the ground up.
It wasn’t long after Archangel was accepted by the organization that things began to take off. They drew more recruits, infiltrated more command structures throughout the quadrant and began to ally themselves with likeminded freedom fighters.
The more successful Legion was at causing chaos, the more grandiose Archangel’s plans became. To the point now where everything the group had worked so hard to achieve was teetering on the brink thanks to Archangel’s recent miscalculations.
The membership was angry. Legion was facing total destruction. Yet Archangel had called them all together once again to try and rally their forces for what he was calling: The Reckoning.
They were gathered in Legion’s secret base, some of them were there in the flesh, others were there via hologram. They sat in a circular room, a raised platform in the center of the circle, where the holographic projection of Archangel had just appeared. As always, he was cloaked and his face was obscured in shadow.
“Am I to understand there is discontent amongst you?” he asked, cutting straight through formalities to the crux of the matter.
“The failure of the Andorian plot has jeopardized the entire operation, Archangel,” said one of the Seraphim, a human male named Luxley. “Those imbeciles in the ARF have not only talked to intelligence, but they have given droves of information about us to the Federation media.”
Clips of video files from various news feeds from around the Federation suddenly appeared in holographic panels around Archangel who studied them briefly, then slung them aside with a wave of his hand.
“We are in danger of being exposed,” a Romulan Seraphim muttered. “Our operations across the quadrant are faltering one by one. There’s no way we’ll be able to bring about this Reckoning you promised.”
Archangel slowly nodded and looked around at his brethren. “I know things have not gone the way we’d hoped. Unforeseen circumstances have arisen. You are correct, the Reckoning will not happen through the various rebellions and coups we’ve been funding.”
A rumble of harsh words and shouts of protest erupted from the group. From the turmoil, a female Cardassian Seraphim stood and raised a fist in the air. “I say we vote new leadership for this organization! We send our forces into hiding for the next year and regroup then to see about a new direction!”
Amid the shouting that followed, Archangel yelled over them all and drew silence so he could speak. “As I said, the Reckoning will not come at the hands of the revolutions we have propped up! I have seen to it there is an alternative…one that will create the collapse of governments I have promised – but it will come at a price.”
The room fell silent. The floor had been given to Archangel, who quickly took it as his own and continued. “For eight years we have seeded communications relays and computer databases throughout the Alpha Quadrant with nanites. The original purpose was to spy, the nanites made to gather information and disseminate to our assets. But over these years I have seen to it the nanites have evolved. I have a plan to use them in a manner that will bring about the downfall of the governments of the quadrant and leave them in the dark.”
Luxley scoffed, “And how will you do this?”
“I can send them a command, it will cascade throughout all of the communications relays, into all of the infected computer cores and it will order the nanites to do the unthinkable,” said Archangel. “Order them to destroy the communications and computer networks of all governments. This will bring about absolute chaos and eventually their collapse. We will finally have the anarchy we seek…the end to the fascist governments and their wars. No more secrets. No more shadow wars. No more lives thrown away.”
The room was silent. The Seraphim thought long and hard about what Archangel was saying. Finally, it was Luxley who spoke up. “If we’ve destroyed all the communications and computer networks, it will be impossible for us to create the sort of universe we want to build here.”
“You will have peace,” said Archangel. “You can rebuild the technology in whatever image you want. But in order to bring it down, it all must be destroyed. It means we all start over.”
The Seraphim looked at each other, many of them discussing the ramifications of such a move. It was the Cardassian, Luma, who spoke next.
“When would you be able to bring this about?” she asked.
“It will be several days before everything is in place,” he said. “Besides, we’d like to allow the Klingon mission to reach its conclusion. The fall of the Klingon Empire could turn recent events in our favor with resorting to this…final solution.”
There were nods of agreement and talk of acceptance among the ranks. It was the Romulan, Saaren, who addressed Archangel next. “We accept your plan, but the Seraphim want you to know that we will not tolerate more failure. If the Klingon mission fails, initiate the Reckoning. And if that fails, you will be given only one chance to step aside.”
Archangel cocked a slight grin, “My dear Seraphim…if the Reckoning fails, we are all finished. So, don’t make idle threats and remember who controls the nanites implanted in your heads.”
The room became so quiet you should have heard a pin drop. With that, the membership faded away or left the room physically, leaving the hologram of Archangel with the physical incarnation of Seraphim – the human male who was considered Archangel’s right-hand.
“You are playing a dangerous game,” Seraphim told Archangel. “They are becoming uneasy and many are calling for your removal. Some of them suspect your true identity.”
“I would hope so,” Archangel cackled. “They were intelligence officers at one time.”
Seraphim pondered a moment, then looked to Archangel. “You received the report from the Klingons?”
“Resurrection has Krang,” Archangel said. “I am aware. Sorvek outsmarted one of our commanders. I sent Raph to intercept Resurrection’s shuttle, the one reported in San Francisco with no explanation. Sorvek used the shuttle to bait a trap.”
“What happened to Raph?”
“Dead. The entire ship was taken out,” Archangel said in a low voice.
“He suspects…or do you think he knows?” Seraphim asked.
Archangel sighed, “I’m sure he knows. I’m trying to figure out where he is. Resurrection has also been running silent, so I suspect they have figured out the compromised communications.”
Seraphim nearly gasped and reached out toward Archangel as if he were going to grab him by the cloak, but he stopped himself when he remembered he was just a hologram. “If they know the grid is infected and they alert Starfleet…they will find a way to purge the nanites before you can use them.”
“I’m taking steps to see that they aren’t able to do any such thing,” said Archangel. “The coming days will be trying, my friend. I need you to be my eyes and ears amongst the Seraphim. Can I trust you?”
He nodded, “Yes…just…don’t fail this time. Everything depends on it.”
Archangel nodded and his hologram faded away, leaving Seraphim to consider the possibilities that were ahead.
Lord Kre’tok
IKS CharghwI'
Stardate 2005.15
Kre’tok was pleased with the new ship smell that permeated his new dreadnought battlecruiser. Other Klingon vessels he’d been aboard were not as well kept. The smell of sweat, blood and grog were nearly soaked into ever crevice of the older Klingon ships. Combined with the dim lighting and sometimes messy accommodations, Kre’tok had never felt at home aboard the older vessel.
IKS CharghwI' was new, clean and nearly spartan. Having spent much of his life in the Federation, Kre’tok had grown accustomed to such surroundings. Perhaps in time, under his leadership, the Klingon people would change their ways. Perhaps he could instill manners and hygiene into the barbarians.
Kre’tok arrived in the communications suites located off the bridge of the dreadnought and he told the computer to receive the transmission. A hologram materialized on the pad in front of him, a human who he recognized as Archangel, despite the cloak he wore to conceal his identity.
“You told me…assured me…Shadow Operations would not be at the delivery of my father,” Kre’tok hissed. “Yet, they appear out of nowhere, take Krang and disappear again. Now they have him. Explain this Archangel.”
“It was unexpected,” the cloaked man said. “I thought it had been made clear to them to stay away from the handoff of your father.”
“They disobeyed orders?” Kre’tok muttered. “What are you going to do about it?”
Archangel was silent a moment, then he spoke, “We will do everything we can to get him back. But know this, Kre’tok, you have Martok’s wife. You could still use her to fulfill the exchange.”
“I want him back. I want to use her as continued leverage beyond the return of my father,” Kre’tok raised his voice. “And now I wish to make them pay. They’ve crossed me and I will have vengeance for this afront.”
Archangel raised his hands, “Calm yourself, Kre’tok. We will emerge from this victorious. This is just a slight bump I the road.”
Kre’tok exhaled sharply, “Send me the information.”
On his end, the Archangel hologram appeared to reach over to his right and enter some commands into a display. A stream of information then scrolled up on Kre’tok’s holographic screens, which now surrounded him I the comm suite.
Displayed on the various holo-screens were bios and photographs of the current members of Shadow Operations. Specs and details on the USS Resurrection, Fearless and Ops Base One. Slowly Kre’tok nodded, “Excellent. Notify me if you hear anything more. I will be planning for our next encounter with this Shadow Ops.”
General Krang
USS Resurrection/Brig
Stardate 2005.15
Krang was beamed directly into a cell. He looked around and grunted as he recognized his surroundings. The burly Klingon stepped up to the doorway and placed his hand against the forcefield, causing it to deliver a shock to his palm. He gave a low growl as the forcefield sparked against his flesh, then looked out to see an Andorian woman in the cell across from him.
“At least I’m not alone,” he muttered. “Tell me, who are you Andorian. Why are you in here? Drunk and disorderly? Perhaps you used insubordinate language with your captain? Some ridiculous Starfleet rule, I’m sure.”
Sera looked up from her bunk and noticed the Klingon. She studied him a moment and smiled, “General Krang. I recognize you. I remember the files on you back during the war.”
“For a moment I was certain you would accuse me of killing your dear old grandmother or some other relative,” he laughed. “That’s usually what I get when a Starfleet recognizes me.”
   She shook her head, “Sorry, general, I play for the other team.”
The old Klingon cocked his head to one side, “Team? So, you’re saying you are what? An enemy of Starfleet?”
“I am Legion,” she said. “I know you are familiar with the name. Our organization has contacts with your Ghost Clan.”
Krang was silent a moment as he continued to study Sera. “Indeed. I was under the impression your people died when they are captured?” He pointed to his head and suddenly made an exploding gesture with his hand.
Sera laughed, “They figured out how to deactivate mine.”
“Good for you!” he declared in a deep voice. “Better to die in battle than by a remote control in someone’s pocket.” He regarded her a moment, then added in hushed tones, “We are allies then, are we not?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she chortled.
“Really?” Krang asked, his eyes narrowing. “I have heard the reports, smuggled to me in prison. My son has made a deal with your…Archangel. We are allies. You and I should work together and escape.”
Sera shook her head, “And go where? We’re on a Starfleet ship, some kind of branch of intelligence. We’d never make it off the ship, even if we could get out.”
Krang nodded, then turned around and sat down on his bunk, “Well, Legion, if you decide you would rather have another chance to live instead of just giving up and being a pawn of Starfleet, let me know. I’ll be right over here.”
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 2: Unleash the Dogs of War ==
Commander Mayla Vree
War Room, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2005.15
"DS-K7 then?" Mayla looked to Jahkar who gave her a nod. 
Thompson stopped what he was doing and addressed the team. "Do we make an entrance, or just offload them clandestinely? As soon as the station's sensors identify us, Legion is going to know where we are."
"That station's sensor will detect a transport." Jahkar said.
Mayla looked to Thompson. "Can you gain access to their sensor array and disable the sensors in one isolated section of the station so we can transport the crew over?"
Thompson tried to pull up current schematics and specs of the Deep Space K7, but what was available was minimal. They needed access to the subspace network. He shook his head. "I can't tell you until I get in there. Without a subspace link to query information, I can't get the specs I need to say one way or another."
Just then the Bridge called for them. "Captain, we just finished Crazy Ivan #3."
Lazarus pressed a key on the table. "Make course for DS-K7. Warp 7." The bridge acknowledged the order and signed off. "Now, what about that bait?"
Mayla was looking at star charts to try to find an area of space that could level the playing field between them and the dreadnought, or anything else they have yet to encounter. "Let's try to find a spot of space to level the playing field."
"What do you mean?" Thompson asked.
"Someplace where the dreadnought or even other cloaked ships have a disadvantage."
"But that disadvantage would apply to us too." Jahkar said.
Mayla zoomed into an area of space near K7. "What about the Briar Patch?"
Lazarus stared at Mayla. "Are you serious? That used to be Klingon Space long ago, they know that sector better than we do."
"It's too bad we can't just set a trap to destroy that monstrosity," Thompson said wistfully, frustrated at how behind they are from Legion. They were always on the defensive. It would be nice to be on the offensive for once.
Mayla gave out a halfhearted chuckle. "The perfect plan would be to mine an area in the Patch with high yield Houdini mines, lure the dreadnought into it thinking we were there, and activate the mines. Then have a fleet of Klingon ships descend upon it. I'm sure the Chancellor wouldn't renege on that opportunity."
"Now who's being sidetracked?" Jahkar said jokingly.
Mayla took a deep breath and let it out. "Right. Let's get back on track. We have to assume Legion knows more about us than we do them. How much, we don't know. But it might be safest to assume they know everything about us. After all, they knew Daryl was SO. They may even have our dossiers."
"Then they might know about the chip in Krang we used to track him," Jahkar said.
"I anticipated that," Lazarus said. "As soon as Krang was beamed on board, I had the engineers set up a disruption field that will block any type of signal going in or out of the cells. Sensors won't penetrate either."
"I like the Briar Patch idea still. It's more permanent. They may not anticipate us to go on the offensive." Thompson said.
"Remember that our goal is to find Legion," Mayla reminded him. She turned to Lazarus. "Any progress on eliminating the infection in the subspace relays?"
"They're still working on it. They said it might go easier if they had access to an infected subspace relay," Lazarus pulled up a status report from the Madcap Engineers.
"Right now, the only connection we have to Legion is that dreadnought. We may have to engage it again," Jahkar said.
Lazarus nodded. He liked the idea of setting a trap using Krang. “So, the Briar Patch,” he pulled up the star charts of the Briar Patch on the virtual display hovering above the War Room table. “Sector 441, two habitable planets -- one being Ba’ku. Access to the planet is by permission only -- permission from Starfleet and the Ba’ku people. They don’t like outsiders and the Federation considers them a protected species.
“The second habitable planet is Klach D'kel Brakt, formerly occupied by the Romulans and more recently, in the past 100 years, by the Klingons. It’s an abandoned mining outpost now,” said Lazarus. “This region is essentially a gas cloud, known for containing dangerous space matter, including false vacuum fluctuations and metaphasic radiation. As well, it was flooded with radiation from supernova remnants.”
The captain looked to Vree and Thompson, “How do you want to lure them into the Patch?”
"Maybe we can fake our own prisoner exchange. 'Leak' out that we will be rendezvousing with a civilian ship inside the Briar Patch and hand off Krang to be transported to Qo'noS. We may not be able to cloak, but neither would they." Mayla looked to the others for their ideas. "We sit there and wait."
Thompson was tapping his fingers on the tabletop while running ideas through his head. "We can mockup a shuttlecraft to give a false lifesign of Krang, disable the propulsion, leave it adrift in the Patch. Make it look like he escaped, and the shuttle was damaged."
Captain Lazarus stopped and cringed, “Well, that would work if we still had a shuttlecraft, but I sent Preet in it to Earth. We only had one. There are other considerations with the Briar Patch. This vessel doesn’t use a typical cloak, it's a phased cloak. The dreadnought uses the same. We have no idea how or if a phased cloak will function in that mess. Also, ships are typically fitted with impulse drive modifications before going into the Patch. Impulse will only function at about one-third...any more than that could overheat them.”
"Which could also apply to the dreadnought. It levels the playing field in terms of maneuverability and cloaks," Mayla said.
"But they still outgun us." Jahkar added.
Lazarus sighed, “I’m not saying no, but we need a really good plan here. Putting someone adrift in a shuttle looks like a blatant trap...in my opinion.”
"We can use Krang as a lure, but to what end?" Mayla eyed her team one at a time and ending with Lazarus. "We have to agree to the fact that without a squadron of ships as backup, there is very little chance of us taking out that dreadnought on our own with brute force. And unless we can access the subspace relays again, the detailed specs of that ship are beyond our reach to even discern a possible weakness it might have."
"We should focus on using Krang to track his destination." Jahkar said, also coming to that same reasoning. There was very little chance of survival if they went head to head with that dreadnought. 
"So, we just took him from the Invincible only to hand him over to them anyway?" Thompson said with a huff. "I guess we could hide another tracker on Krang so we can still track him?"
"We can put a similar viridium chip in Sera and let her go with him." Mayla suggested slowly. "Maybe both will lead us to where Krang's people are at, and where Legion is hiding."
Lazarus gave a deep sigh. Ultimately, he was captain and whatever he decided they would do. He didn’t like any of the options on the table. Engaging the dreadnought alone was suicide, even with an advanced fighting vessel like Resurrection.  Luring the Klingons to the Briar Patch was an obvious attempt to lay a trap and he doubted the Klingons would go for it.
He was pretty sure his decision wasn’t going to be popular with Vree and Thompson, but they would fall into line and they’d make things work.
“We’ll leave the Invincible crew at K-7. A quick decloak and transport them over,” he said. “Then we recloak and use the coaxial drive to take Krang to Ty’Gokor.”
Jahkar nearly sat up out of his chair, “Klingon military command? Is that wise?”
“If we take him to any Federation port, they’ll take Krang and we’ll be ordered home,” said Lazarus. “A trap in the Briar Patch is not an option. They’ll see it for what it is and there’s no telling how many ships they’d bring. They have a dreadnought and the Ghost Clan has a small fleet. A trap could backfire on us, in a big way.”
The captain looked around at the team, “With the situation in the empire, Klingon protocol would suggest they’ll send Martok and the council to Ty’Gokor for safe keeping. We’ll show up there and offer them Krang...but we’ll also make sure they know we know the Ghost Clan has the dreadnought. We’ll offer to help them bring that ship down and find Martok’s wife.”
“What if they decide to arrest us for violating their space and take the Resurrection to tear apart and reverse engineer our technology?”
“Do you really think they’ll do that?” Lazarus asked. “Martok fought alongside the Federation in the war. We rescued him from a Dominion prison. He owes the Federation, plus we have Krang. We need help right now and can you honestly say we can trust our own people?”
"Don't forget you've actually met Markok during the war. We can at least count on him remembering what we've done for him in the past." Mayla said. "And he indirectly knows me, in more ways than one."
Lazarus' eyes went to the young Vree and remembered. He and Bravo Squad had indeed met Martok during the war on a joint mission to destroy a prototype Jem'hadar dreadnought. And Mayla's Echo Team had just performed a mission for the Klingons just prior to transferring to Phoenix Team.
The table fell silent. They all knew there was almost no one they could trust back home.
Captain Lazarus stood up and straightened his uniform then turned and walked toward the door, “Prepare the Invincible crew to beam out at K-7. I’m going to meet with the Madcaps and figure out how we can help them get access to an infected relay.”
Colonel Jahkar
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2005.25
Jahkar left the War Room and was met by Chas’naH in the corridor outside. He turned to Mayla and said, “I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
Once the others had gone, Chas stepped in close and looked into his eyes, “Complications?”
“None of this is easy. Between you and I, we’re putting Delan and his crew off at Deep Space K-7. Captain is afraid they’ll turn on us,” he said.
She nodded, “Probably a wise move. They don;t seem too happy to be denied access to communications. They sense something is wrong.” Chas’nH studied Jahkar’s face. “What is wrong, Jahkar?”
“We’re here against orders,” he told her. “We’re also dealing with communications issues. We believe the organization called Legion has infected much of the Federation’s communications grid with nanites that seem to be able to track our comm-traffic and report back to their leadership.”
The half-Klingon raised an eyebrow, “That is serious. So, should I ask what they plan to do about me?”
He shook his head, “No one said you have to go with Delan. You are Krang’s escort, you should remain with us.”
“And where are you taking Krang?” she asked.
“To the Klingons. We are going to make a deal with them to lay a trap for the dreadnought that destroyed the Invincible.”
“Then I should remain aboard,” Chas’naH said.
“You should talk to the captain,” he suggested. “Make sure that is his intention. If I advocate on your behalf they’ll say I’m biased. We have…”
“..a past together, I know,” she smiled. “I’ll go offer my assistance. Hopefully he’ll agree.”
Jahkar nodded, “See you soon. By the way, it’s good to see you again.”
Chas’naH reached out and touched the side of his face, “You too. Now, you better go see what Commander Vree has to say.”
She turned and headed toward the bridge, while Jahkar went the other direction to track down Mayla...
Lt. Daryl Thompson
USS Resurrection, Bridge
Stardate 2005.27
Daryl was frustrated. This situation led to nothing. Stuck somewhere in space, no comms, and no one to thrust, and with a dangerous, sought after Klingon onboard….
He was browsing through the logs again from the hacked Bird of Prey, but it was fruitless. 
He sighed and with a hand gesture, he closed the holographic interface.
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.27
As Liral and Lyral went to set up the meeting, Ryramorl took the opportunity to visit a Carnora Armory to get some proper armor, as he’d intended.  The trio also reserved a room at the Guarded Den--which, interestingly, had circular beds instead of the straight ones Raillius was used to.  
Raillius was not overly surprised by the shape of the beds. She was beginning to feel so completely out of her element on this mission that she was now, more or less, going along with the flow. Round beds were fine -- she just needed to get some sleep. 
Liral and Lyral D’Hronarin
Gaish
Perdition’s Flame
Stardate 2005.27
Liral and Lyral both got the feeling things weren’t going quite as planned--but they had a backup.  Something they’d done before when they were dealing with a client they felt warranted watching, and it was so easily hid within an old Carnora custom.  “Very well,” said Lyral.  “We will get that list.  And yes, his latinum is VERY good.”
“And in light of that,” Liral said, pulling out five vials, “Let us share water!”  He offered one to Gaish, one to each of his girls, and one to his brother, ignoring the bodyguards’ disgust at such a ritual.
Gaish took the last mouthful of grubs, chewed and swallowed them, then picked up the water and gulped it washing the food down. He belched loudly, then looked at Liral and Lyral and set down his glass, “Oh...were we supposed to toast, or break glasses or some other Carnora tradition?”
The girls both laughed as if on cue and took drinks from their glasses of water too.  “No toast or breaking glasses in our tradition,” said Liral, collecting the emptied vials and PADD they brought with them.  “For Carnora, sharing water is enough.”  They rose, gave him a polite Ferengi bow, and promised they’d be back with the list and latinum, and left Gaish to his girls.
Once they were out of sight of the Perdition’s Flame, Liral checked his PADD.  Yes, sharing water had been enough--there had been microscopic transponders in the water that Liral had given Gaish and his girls, and the quick check of his PADD showed they’d found their targets.  They’d remain within the Ferengi and his little harem for a day or so until they were passed out of the body--but that would have to do for now.
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Liral D’Hronarin
Lyral D’Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.27
The two brothers took a circuitous route through the Carnora section in the Hole In The Wall, and making various visits to venders (and agents), and finally found Ryramorl, Reepchip, and T’Aayla at the Guarded Den;  Once they’d made sure the room was clear of spying devices, Liral and Lyral explained the situation.
“Bad news is, he didn’t want to see you.  He just wants a list of what weapons you want, so it won’t work like you wanted it to,” said Lyral
“Any good news?” asked T’Aayla.
“We had a backup plan.  You know our custom of sharing water,” said Liral.  “Years ago we came up with an idea:  If we thought we needed to keep the scent of someone we were working for, we’d share water--but we’d give him or her a vial of water with a microscopic transponder in the water.  We gave Gaish one of these vials and one to each of the two girls he was with, and he just guzzled the water--almost out of contempt.  The girls drank theirs too.”  He showed that the tracking devices were indeed working.  “This is who you’re looking for.  These are the two girls with him, and this is Gaish himself.  Tiny guy even for a Ferengi, about the size of a Jirek-Jai Muran.”  He showed them images of who they were looking for.
Reepchip also clarified something Liral had said.  “The Jirek-Jai are a clan of giants.   They’re about the height of Ithenites,” he explained to T’Aayla.  That was hardly a giant to the Romulan--but then again, this was Reepchip talking.
Lyral then told them Gaish had a date with his girls at a race, then at a casino, and gave them some guesses where Gaish might be.  “These tracking devices won’t last forever.  When he--”he glanced at T’Aayla and took a moment to choose a more polite phrase--”When those grubs are in his leavings, the device will go with them.  Nature of the things.  Range is limited, too, maybe a few miles.”
“Oh, and Ryramorl…  some information that might be valuable to you,” said Liral, holding out a paw.
Ryramorl handed over a few copper coins, until Liral was satisfied.  “Gonna be a family reunion here.  I found out your brother’s on his way to meet Second Name Ryramorl, and so is ours to meet up with us!”
Ryramorl blinked.  “My brother Myaral and Rygaran D’Hronarin in the Danro Mountains are coming here?!”
The two nodded, grinning roughly.  Ryramorl gave them a tip.  The two mercenaries passed on the tracking information so that T’Aayla and Ryramorl could follow the dealer, contact information so that the trio could contact the brothers, then bade them farewell for now.
Once they were gone, Ryramorl told T’Aayla:  “Rygaran was involved in the old iteration of Shadow Operations, and Hroljarus Andruvar wanted him as a liaison between Carnora Special Forces and us.”
T’Aayla nodded with a faint smile, “We’ve met. Although, I was a much different person then.”
Ryramorl nodded as he realized what she meant--the ghost of Jamie Marcus remembered him.
Captain Tarika and Gaish
Wayside Restaurant, Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.27
Nadel and Rek left the restaurant with just a nod of agreement to leave her to ponder a decision. She was still trying to comprehend the magnitude of this contract Gaish had dangled so enticingly in front of her. She had considered that it may be some sort of trap. Maybe he had discovered somehow, she worked for Starfleet Intelligence? Was he now trying to get rid of her? Or has he already been trying by offering her his most difficult and dangerous contracts? She picked up the contract padd and looked through the details of the deal. It was just a simple cargo hauling job. It wouldn't even be that difficult to get into Cardassian space. Ever since the end of the Dominion War, Cardassia had been rebuilding with the help of the Federation. Their navy hasn't even been brought back up to pre-war strength yet. She had no doubt Starfleet Intelligence was making sure of that from behind the scenes.
After about half hour, she decided staring at the same words over and over wasn't going to change her mind. She left a few credits on the table and left the restaurant. She took a round-about way back to the Tachi Koma's berth. Lennier, her holo-engineer, was waiting for her just inside the hatch at the top of the ramp.
"We've had a visitor." He said, giving her a customary bow that had worked its way into his programming. She still can't shake off the feeling he'd joined some sort of online AI priesthood.
"Who?" she asked, not stopping as she headed towards her quarters to change. He followed silently and fluidly behind her.
"Mr. Nadel and his Gorn were just here looking for you."
"I saw them. Gaish had a new contract to offer." She started changing out of her clothes and back into her standard attire and weapons. "How long ago were they here?"
"About half hour ago."
That sounded suspicious to her. Why would they come to the Tachi Koma after she already told them she would go to Gaish directly with her answer? "Did they do anything?"
"The Gorn attached a tracking device in the vacuum vent of the ramp when he thought I wasn't looking." Lennier gave her a soft smile. "Gorn aren't intelligent enough to be sneaky or discreet for those types of tasks."
"I'm certain he would make a terrible spy." Tarika said as she attached her sidearms back to her thighs. "Did you remove it?"
"I did."
"Don't deactivate it. We'll do that when we get underway. I want them to think it's working, or else they'll try to hide another one on the ship." She grabbed her jacket and headed out. "I'll be in a meeting with Gaish to finalize our next job. I want you to do a level 2 sweep of the ship for anything out of the ordinary before we leave. I want this next job to go smoothly. It has a big payoff."
"Aye," he said, and rezzed into nothingness.
Ten minutes later, Tarika was walking into the Perdition's Flame and saw it was more crowded than usual. As she worked her way towards the back of the restaurant and by the bar, she overheard a few conversations about a newly assembled mercenary group had just arrived and wanted to make a name for themselves. She ignored the news as she headed to Gaish's favorite table until one of his Klingon guards she recognized stepped out to block her path.
"Gaish is in a meeting," he growled. He was the same one she held her disruptor pistol to a few days ago.
"I have an appointment."
"He is still in a meeting," the Klingon repeated.
Tarika waved him off. "I'll be at the bar." Before she pulled away, she stole a glance behind the towering guard and saw two Carnora sitting at the table with Gaish. They seem to be toasting to a new deal. She walked over to the bar and sat down. Of all the barstools she had to sit in, she had to sit next to one of the loudest patrons she knew as a regular there. Maybe that was the reason that particular stool was empty.
"Captain! How 'r ya?" The tellarite said in a heavily accented drawl he probably made up to sound Terran. Tarika's hair covered her ears nearly all the time and her physical appearances took more from her human heritage than her romulan heritage.
"Cheg. How goes yer last trip?" Tarika answered forcefully, almost in the same accented drawl she drew from the vids she had used to watch with her brothers in her younger years. Old Earth movies were filled with a diversity of characters and languages. At the Academy, part of the culture of lifeforms born and raised on Earth was to take pride in watching as many as possible in the golden age of cinema. The running record so far was still 4289. The closer one can get to that number, the more pride was held as an...Earthling.
"Why," he suddenly asked with alarm. "What've ya heard?"
She suppressed a chuckle. "Just what ya told me last time. Yer trip to the Archanis Sector almost left ya with half a ship."
He physically looked relieved, even through his big beard and twitching short snout of a nose. "Ah have three quartahs of a ship now! Just one ere two more jobs and ah can git my ship back in tip top shape. What about yer beautiful ship? Is she fer sale?"
She waved to the bartender to bring her and Cheg a drink. "Ya ask me that ev'ry time."
"And ah hope it's a different answer ev'ry time ah ask it, my dear." He gave her a toothy grin.
"She's not for sale, Cheg." Their drinks arrived and they toasted each other for safe travels and clear space lanes. She wouldn't consider him a friend, more of an acquaintance while passing the time in between contacts. 
"Ya git all the best contracts, Tarika." He said, holding out a contract padd to show her his next job. He was blunt and straightforward as almost all Tellarites are. Normally in this type of environment, every person keeps to their privacy; especially their contracts. But she took a glance at it anyway and then laughed.
"Archanis Sector? Again? Didn't ya learn yer lesson the last time?" She took another sip from her drink. "Can yer ship make it?"
"It's all ah can git." His face became crestfallen for just a moment. When the Klingon appeared behind them, he jumped in his stool.
"Gaish will see you now."
She downed the rest of her drink and paid the bartender to cover her drink and Cheg's, including his next meal. "Meal's on me, Cheg. Be careful. I expect to see ya back here soon."
"Like I said, ya git all the best contracts." He turned back to his drink and stared at his contract padd dejectedly.
She couldn't help but to smile as she followed the Klingon guard to the Gaish's table where he was with his girls and the always alert Klingon mercenaries around him. Her demeanor suddenly changed as she saw the diminutive Ferengi was in a huff as he waved his two female consorts away with irritation. With a motion like a toddler about to throw a tantrum, he pulled out a contract padd and threw it on the table in between them. He then motioned with his other hand and a waitress ran over with a glass of Romulan Ale, poured and sent to his table so quickly as if the bar was within arm’s reach.
“I sent my man to make a deal with you,” he said sternly. “Now he says you’ll only deal with me. I am busy, Captain Tarika. I am on my way to the casino, so now you’re cutting into my fun time. So be quick about it, let's get to the point and finish this deal."
"You know I only deal with you; not your cronies," she said, ignoring his tone. She picked up the padd and began to peruse it. Gaish folded his hands on the table in front of him and glared at her as his Klingon mercenary bodyguards closed into a tighter circle as they knew she was always armed. Even though she met with Gaish often, they did not lower their guard for one second. They continued a steady scan of their surroundings for any danger to their ward, while keeping one eye on her with a Klingon scowl.
Her eyes locked on the Ferengi's as he had added her negotiated price of his sector key. And to her surprise, the hospitality holoprogram he had sent her a message about. All other parts of the deal remained unchanged. She tried to read his face as to the true nature of the job. They always had an amicable relationship. But this time, he was in a really bad mood. Why was it so important for him that he would risk friction with Neerou? And for him to give into her counteroffer of a copy of his sector key? All she was seeing told her there was something unique about this particular job that seems to have him on edge. She would have to be extra careful. There was a sudden burst of laughter that was cut short from the booth his girls occupied behind them, suddenly fearful of their angry master.
He just returned her gaze with a glowering expression as she held out the padd to him and they thumbed their agreement at the same time. He wasn't too happy about her counteroffer. But the job was big, and he needed it done. And done right.
"When do I leave?" Tarika asked.
Gaish glared at Tarika, then finally shook his head and threw his hands in the air. “Fine! Fleece me! See if I care. Just get the job done!” He then pressed his thumb to the reader and approved the transfer of funds to Tarika’s account. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we are off to have fun. So long, Tarika.”
With that the Ferengi got up and headed out the door with his entourage in tow.
High Chief Myaral Ra’yral
Aboard the Horghenhar’s Horn
Stardate 2005.27
Myaral felt extremely strange aboard this ship--it was cramped, claustrophobic even to one who would step out of his tent and experience the plains of Carnor stretching as far as the eye could see, ear could hear, and nostrils smell.  Rynaya was just as uncomfortable, but Ry’ala’ara had been on ships before, as had Rygaran.  He stayed mostly within his quarters, knowing from the poor example of those who thought rank could replace training or experience.
He would eat with the crew, though the food was all preserves.  But, still, the Holder of the Name Ryramorl in the La’an Tribe of Ra’yral needed to pass on his duties, and both possible new holders were on Kazis IX.
Finally, Rygaran came to him, baring his throat in respect.  “High Chief, if you’ll come with me, we can board the shuttle to the surface.”  Myaral, his family, and his bodyguards came with Rygaran, and they took the shuttle down to the surface.
When they emerged at the spaceport, the bodyguards immediately took their place around Myaral.  Rygaran led them to where the Guards had their station and learned from them the whereabouts of both Names of Ryramorl.
The Second Name was still busy at Sasso Charatetet’s, but Ryramorl was at the Guarded Den, so that’s where they went.  When they arrived, Ryramorl was told they were here, and he brought T’Aayla and Reepchip to meet them.  Ryramorl rubbed faces with his family members, and introduced his brother, mate, and sister-in-law to the others.  Rygaran then spoke up.  “I also have something for you, but not all need to see it.”  He gave Myaral, Ry’ala’ara, and Rynaya a look, and Myaral gestured for Ryramorl to go.  [The Holder of the Name Ryramorl can wait,] the High Chief said.  [The Hunt is not as patient as the Dead.].  
Once in their room, Ryramorl explained that T’Aayla was actually the one in charge, and Rygaran took out a PADD, punched some information into it, and showed it to T’Aayla--it showed his old Shadow Operations credentials.  He then produced a scroll, and Ryramorl unrolled it.  Rygaran explained to T’Aayla.  “It’s a contract on Gaish himself.  Whoever brings Gaish in alive will be made a governor of one of old colonies, along with funds to restore it.”  If Ryramorl’s accent was strong, Rygaran’s was compounded by a speech impediment brought on by his damaged, misshapen muzzle.
Ryramorl looked at T’Aayla.  “If we give this to Liral and Lyral, they and their crew will rearrange the very Court of the King to help us.”
T’Aayla looked skeptically at Rygaran, “So you’re putting a price on Gaish’s head? We need information from him. Will we be allowed access to him if he’s captured?”
Rygaran started to say something, then looked at Ryramorl, who signed something.  Rygaran relaxed.  “Absolutely.  First off, Gaish MUST be brought in alive for the contract to be worth anything.  Second, Ryramorl received a Writ from Shor-Ghan himself when he was summoned that ordered him to cooperate with Shadow Operations to bring an end to whatever is destabilizing the Carnoras’ only ally--and find out if it’s penetrated the Carnora as well.  All Ryramorl has to say is that allowing you to interrogate Gaish is part of that cooperation, and nobody will question it.”  He pondered.  “If you can keep your head about you and interrogate him on our ship--or on my brothers’ ship--you’ll have an advantage on Gaish.  Ferengi find our ships to be unsettling for some reason.”
Ryramorl laughed.  “It is believed amongst the Olvern that incorporating the bones of the dead into various objects allow dead family members and friends to be remembered, continue helping out, and basically stay with us after death,” he explained to his commander.  “That’s why Myaral is here--the Holder of my name left some of his bones to me.  So, of course, if a crew member dies, his shipmates will work his bones into the ship somehow, preferably something conspicuous.  Besides,” continued Ryramorl, “remember that Liral and Lyral have agreed to work for us, and we told them we wanted Gaish alive.  If they’re the ones who get him, they’ll make sure he’s alive.”
T’Aayla nodded, “Very well. The sooner we have answers from him, the better.”
Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
Lt. Cody Beckett
Yevgeni Ibragimov
Deep Space Nine
Stardate 2005.25
Tiri spent the afternoon shopping on the promenade and enjoyed a meal in one of the restaurants there with Ibragimov and Beckett. Afterwards, they received a message from Quark that he had an answer for them.
They arrived back at Quark’s place in the early evening and he had them again ushered into the backroom of his establishment. Once inside, with the door secured, he huddled around the table with the trio.
“Krido Rit will meet with you,” Quark said. “He expects just the three of you and Ibragimov’s ship, which he is familiar with. Apparently you have had dealings with him?”
Yevgeni shrugged, “A couple of times. Rit and Yevgeni never worked together...never made deals. Just crossed paths. He’s Cardassian. Yevgeni was Maqui. The two do not mix well.”
Quark grinned, “He said the same. He was surprised you’re bringing business his way.”
“Yevgeni has bills to pay,” he muttered.
“Must be why he wants you to stay on your ship while he deals with these two,” Quark added.
Ibragimov frowned. “Very well.”
“Where are we to meet with him? And when?” Tiri asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon, 1300 hours, on Relnok Nor. It’s a former Cardassian battle station located between the Pentath and Pullock systems. It was converted into a Dominion station during the war, but the Jem’Hadar fled in a hurry during the final days of fighting and it was taken over by the Federation as a supply outpost during the Reconstruction. It’s abandoned now, serves mostly as a smugglers haven.”
Tiri looked to Ibragimov, “You’re familiar I take it?”
Ibragimov gave her a nonchalant look, “Yevgeni has been there. Yes.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
“I expect you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Quark asked.
“We will,” she said. Tiri looked to Beckett and Ibragimov, “Any questions for Quark?”
Yevgeni shook his head, “Nyet.”
Beckett shook his head as well. “Nope, no questions” 
Back onboard the Venomous, Beckett sat down at the table with Ibragimov and Sh’avelith “So, tomorrow the fun starts. What can you tell us about Relnok Nor, Yevgeni ? What can we expect?” he looked at the big Russian captain.
Yevgeni shrugged “It’s same like here. Maybe a little less civilized. No Federation” Yevgeni grinned, baring his teeth “Sometimes a little rough” he added. Then he turned serious. “Yevgeni must stay on ship. You have to be careful. Krido Rit is big fish. You only have one chance. If you mess up, you probably not leaving Relnok Nor alive” 
“No shit” Beckett said. He sighed. “I don’t know the place and we can’t do queries to Starfleet. Legion would immediately know. What options do we have?” 
Yevgeni made a few gestures, and the holographic interface above the table came to live. “I have schematics” Within moments, detailed schematics appeared, hovering above the table. 
Beckett nodded, and grinned. “That’s a start. We might probably be taken somewhere else, somewhere where Rit calls the shots, but better safe than sorry. “ He downloaded the schematics and specsheets from Relnok Nor onto a padd. Then he looked at Tiri. “Are you ready for it ? You probably have to cut the ‘deal’ and see what he has. “ 
Admiral Sorvek
OpsBase One
Stardate 2005.27
Sorvek’s runabout arrived on OpsBase One after more than a day at warp leaving Sector 001 and his encounter with the ill-fated Legion Bird of Prey. He and Matt O’Shaugnessy disembarked the runabout and were greeted by Lt. Commander Kaarle Huotari, the ranking officer aboard the station with the Shadow Operations crew and command personnel off on a mission.
Huotari, a bald, no-nonsense Finn, looked exacerbated as the admiral and O’Shaugnessy stepped out of the runabout and approached. Sorvek came to stand before him and waited to hear what was troubling the man – though he had a good idea. The two security officers flanking the commander gave Sorvek some indication of what was going on.
“Welcome aboard, admiral,” Huotari said. “It’s good to see you. However, I must report that Starfleet Command has been in contact looking for you. They have given orders for me to detain you on sight.”
Sorvek looked at Huotari and then to the security officers. Slowly, he nodded, “You are prepared to carry out those orders?”
“I’m…well…looking for some answers, sir,” Huotari said. “I’ve served under you both in Starfleet Intelligence and now Shadow Ops and I will admit, I’m torn.”
“You must either do your duty, or you must defy the logical option and put your trust in me that I am not guilty of any wrongdoing. In fact, I am trying to stop a plot to topple our government.”
Huotari nodded, “The orders gave no details, just that you were to be detained.”
“Have you informed command that we’re here?” Sorvek asked.
“No, sir,” Huotari said.
“Mr. O’Shaugnessy and I have work to do, commander,” Sorvek said. “So, either place us under arrest or let us proceed.”
Huotari eyed the Vulcan with suspicion, then looked to O’Shaugnessy, who shrugged. “They didn’t name me directly, did they? Because technically I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Sorvek gave him a look, eyebrow raised, that prompted another shrug of his shoulders. “It’s true.”
As they both turned back to Huotari, the officer stepped aside and motioned for security to allow them to pass, “I hope you’re not wrong, sir.”
“Nor do I, Mr. Huotari,” he said. “Please, come with us. I would like you involved so you can determine whether you are going to allow us to continue. How many crew aboard?”
They started into the base, leaving the hangar behind, “There are 23 aboard currently. They are support staff for the Shadow Operations team.”
“Ops is up and running?” he asked.
“Aye, sir,” Huotari said. “We have everything up and running at present.”
Once they stepped off the turbolift into the ops center, Sorvek looked around at the crew there and took center stage. “Open a channel stationwide.”
“Open, sir,” said Ensign Letha, the Betazoid at communication.
“This is Admiral Sorvek. We are investigating a plot against the Federation, being carried out from within the highest echelons of power. It is true. Arrest orders have been issued for me,” he said. “I suspect they will soon be issued for everyone in command of Shadow Operations. I do not expect you to follow me blindly, and against your orders, so if you object please indicate so now. You will be relieved of duty and confined to quarters. There will be no ramifications and I will make it clear upon my arrest you refused to cooperate with me.”
He looked around and no one among the ops center crew indicated any objections. Slowly, he nodded, “An organization called Legion is attempting to overthrow our government and the governments of the major nations of the Alpha and Beta quadrants. We believe this Legion may have some control over President Gant himself. We also suspect this organization has access to the Federation communication array, allowing it to eavesdrop on every communication we make, and every data transfer and request to Starfleet. Effective immediately there are no outgoing communications allowed. Respond to nothing without it first being approved by myself or Mr. O’Shaugnessy here.”
Sorvek looked around and saw the concerned looks on the faces of the ops crew. He understood their feelings, despite having none of his own. People were not fond of going against orders, putting their careers and lives at stake.
“Mr. Huotari, I need you and two of your best analysts to join me in the War Room. We have data aboard the runabout we need your help in examining,” he said. “Mr. O’Shaugnessy, you have ops.”
The red-haired man nodded and same to stand at the command console in operations. Sorvek took Huotari and two of his officers to the War Room where they downloaded the data hacked from the Legion Bird of Prey and began to sort through it.
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Agent Rygaran D’Hronarin
High Chief Myaral Ra’yral
Liral D’Hronarin
Lyral D’Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.27
“Should I contact Liral and Lyral and give this contract to them?”  Ryramorl asked T’Aayla.  “We’re already working with them.”
“If you think it will make a difference, then yes.”
Ryramorl used the contact information to send them a message--they needed to come as soon as possible to the Guarded Den--there had been a development--Shor-Ghan had an official contract.
<We are coming,> came the reply.  With Liral and Lyral on their way, the trio went to the main room to visit with Myaral to see what he wanted.  Myaral explained to T’Aayla the tradition of passing along one’s bones to the rest of the tribe (though the universal translator that allowed T’Aayla to understand his words kept glitching at concepts that simply had no translation), then handed Ryramorl a large case.  Ryramorl opened it up.  Within was a large 8-shot revolver, and several rounds of ballistic ammunition and a belt with a holster.  The hilt was coated with what looked like ivory.  Myaral explained that an Olvern’s teeth and claws were traditionally used for weaponry--and so the ivory had been from the deceased’s tusks.  Ryramorl buckled on the belt.  He held up the revolver before T'Aayla.  "This," he announced.  "Is my boomstick!"  Reepchip didn't get the joke, nor did Myaral, and Ryramorl explained it was a joke only those who knew old Earth entertainment would get.  He holstered the revolver.
“Now, as to Holding your Name,” began Myaral, but Ryramorl grunted.
“All honour to you, High Chief and Brother, but our prey is dangerous and elusive.  We will talk about such when we have our prey on the spit.”
Myaral sighed, understanding.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Ryramorl, Reepchip, and T’Aayla looked at each other, and Ryramorl said, “Let yourself be seen on the planet.  It would actually help us.”
Myaral looked puzzled, but agreed.
Ry’ala’ara then gave her bundle to Ryramorl.  “I know what Federation uniforms look like,” she said with a smile.  “These garments are much more fitting to a La’an.”  Ryramorl gave her a lick on the face in gratitude.
Liral and Lyral soon showed up.  “So, what’s so urgent?” growled Lyral.  Ryramorl, Rygaran, Reepchip, and T’Aayla went to their private room again, and Ryramorl handed over the scroll.
The two looked it over silently.  “Well, that changes things,” said Liral.
“How?” asked T’Aayla.
“A contract this big changes things from ‘how can we help you?’ to ‘We are at your command.’  What are our orders?”
T’Aayla gave them a hesitant look, like she might possibly be unleashing the Dogs of War on Gaish. But slowly, she nodded her head, “Let’s get Gaish.”
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 3: To Catch a Ferengi ==
Commander Mayla Vree
Cargo Bay, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2005.27
After the intense meeting, Mayla stopped by the Infirmary before heading down to the cargo bay to check up on the Invincible crew. They were crammed in without much room to spare. Most of the cargo (mostly weapons stores) were temporarily packed into the holodeck, their SO armory, and even some crew quarters. Every available space was used for storage to accommodate room for the survivors.
The infirmary was also full of wounded from the last battle. Some of them were well enough to walk out on their own steam and escorted down to the cargo bay where several cots were set up for them to continue their rest and recovery.
Mayla decided to join the Resurrection crew in tending to the needs of their comrades. They had to field questions as to who they were, how they were there, and why they were there. But while under orders, they had to keep a closed mouth. Until a superior officer walked in and those questions were turned to her.
Normally, no one would know who Mayla was outside the Resurrection or Ops Base One. But while on the ship, she was in her uniform with her rank pips displayed. But she stood out as she always carried a side arm with her locked in her holster. The Resurrection crew all knew her, and addressed and treated her in respect to her rank even though she wasn't a permanent member of the crew.
"Commander, I'm glad you're here." Lieutenant Aaron Sekoia, one of the weapons maintenance officers, asked as he rushed over to her.
"What's the problem?" She asked, looking them up and down before noticing Jahkar had entered the cargo bay.
"They're asking questions we can't answer," Sekoia said quietly.
Mayla nodded with understanding. "Let them know all is well and we will be dropping them all off at DS-K7. Give them anything they need. But no access to the computer nor communications. We're still in comm black out."
"Aye, sir." He said with slight relief and walked away. 
Jahkar headed her way, the masses of people parted to make a path to her. "I didn't think this ship could hold this many people." He made a glance around the room. "What do you think of our plan?"
She looked up at the tall Colonel. "I think it's a good plan. The Briar Patch is a better place to rendezvous than normal space if that dreadnought can cloak. It will level the playing field."
"Do you think the Klingons will send their fleet?" Jahkar murmured with a low growl, putting up an act. "They may not even believe us."
"If there was even a chance he can get his wife back alive, Martok will move planets and suns to do whatever it takes to get her back." She looked at the people mingling around them. She wondered if any of them were listening. 
"As long as the envoy can get to him in time to ask for help," Jahkar added. "Or we may very well be alone when we get there."
Mayla nodded, keeping up with the act. "I'm sure. Legion might be watching the Chancellor closely, but they won't anticipate the envoy coming from Romulan space."
Jahkar gave her the best shocked look he could muster. "Romulan space? That's something you don't see every day."
"And I'm sure Legion won't see that coming as well." Mayla's gaze went around the room.
"You were able to get the Romulans to participate in hunting down the dreadnought?"
"Not me, Lazarus. Apparently, he's been doing a few of his own clandestine operations behind the scenes that he didn't even tell us. He just gave me a hint that he's already mobilized several factions on the look out for the dreadnought and Legion members. And my thinking is when you have Romulan allies, you have allies throughout the quadrants now that they've been scattered." Her gaze suddenly fell on two of the Invincible crew tentatively approached them.
"Commander? Colonel?" the shorter woman asked, seeing the pips on her uniform, and the sidearm strapped to her thigh. The human she was with looked at Jahkar up and down. Mayla recognized them as the crewmembers she saved outside the Invincible brig.
"I'm glad to see you made it out, ensign," Mayla responded, taking note of her single rank pip. "I'm sorry for your crewmates that didn't make it. We tried our best."
"We want to thank you both." She said, holding out her hand. The man next to her just nodded in accordance. "For saving both of our lives."
Mayla took the hand and gave it a quick shake. "We're letting you off at DS-K7. From there, you can contact Starfleet Command and report in. We are still under comm black out, so I hope you understand the restrictions to computer and communications access."
"I do," the man finally spoke up. "But I don't think some of the crew would."
"They don't have a choice," Mayla said coldly. "The master of this vessel gives the orders."
The man, a lieutenant jg, held up his hands to stop her. "No, that's not what I meant." He looked over his shoulder before continuing. "There was talk about having the likes of Starfleet Intelligence on the ship. I overheard some crew members talking in a corridor that they wanted to watch them closely so they can make regular reports about them back to Starfleet Command."
Jahkar let out a grunt of disapproval. Mayla just nodded. Trying to see where this was leading. "Continue," she said.
"I heard them say there are rumors of an uprising within the Federation, even in the Starfleet ranks that undermine-", he suddenly stiffened up and jerked his head back. His eyes rolled in opposite directions and his legs gave away. Mayla leaped forward to catch him before anyone could even register what was happening.
"Infirmary, three to emergency beam in from cargo bay!" She murmured into her subvocal.
The cool energizing beam quickly enveloped Jahkar, her, and the lieutenant in her arms as they quickly materialized on the floor of the Infirmary. The emergency holographic medical team was already there with the Resurrection's doctor behind them.
"What happened?" he asked as readouts from the team funneled into his padd.
"Looks like an explosive implant," Mayla said. Gently lowering the man to the ground, even though she knew he was already dead by the blood coming out of his eyes and ears. But it was his skewed eyes that finalized her diagnosis.
"Explosive implant? Are you sure?" The doctor said too quickly as the internal scans verified catastrophic internal damage in his head. "How did you know?"
"I've seen it before," Mayla said. She opened a subvocal channel directly to Lazarus. "Captain, one of the Invincible crew was just killed by an explosive implant. He was telling me something about a possible uprising in the Federation and Starfleet ranks."
Lazarus didn't miss a beat when he was notified of a medical emergency. "Isolate the victim from everyone."
"That's going to be hard to do," she responded, looking around the crowded infirmary. "It's pretty crowded in here already."
"Do what you can. I'll need a full report before we reach K7. Lazarus, out."
Mayla waved the doctor over. "I need you to put up a privacy screen around this 'patient' and pretend he's still alive."
The doctor nodded and began giving orders to his nurses and EMHT.
Jahkar stood by, keeping an eye on sickbay as the EMH and Mayla set up the privacy screen. He was beginning to wonder just how deep Legion’s infiltration of Starfleet had gone.
Captain Tarika
Tachi Koma, Kazis IX
Stardate 2005.27
She had left the Perdition's Flame immediately and headed to her ship. By the time she got there, there was a maintenance crew working on her.
"What's going on?" She said as she reached the ramp where Lennier was standing just inside the hatch.
"Gaish's crew. They're going over the ship to be sure we're in good enough condition to leave." Lennier's image rezzed once. "I think they're also installing a new holoprogram?"
Tarika was surprised, and added to her suspicion. Gaish usually didn't work THIS fast to provide services nor product. It was not 10 minutes ago he had left the Perdition's Flame in a huff. "Who's the chief here?" she called out loud.
A smaller than usual statured Pakled sauntered over with a mechanic's overalls that had various padds and equipment attached to it and his vest. The pale chubby face had a permanent smile to it whether he was smiling or not. "I am Gobkopgug."
Tarika gave him a questioning look. "Excuse me?"
"Gobkopgug. I leader here. To install new prototype holoprogram in your romulan ship." He said, giving her an innocent look complemented with a smile that completed the package.
"Alright. But you will work on it with my chief engineer, Lennier."
"Yes, yes, Lennier. The holo-engineer. Ha ha, that makes funny."
Tarika inwardly groaned. "Yes, it's funny. How long is this going to take?"
He shook his head so vigorously it made the tools hanging on his chest clang against each other. "Not long, seven hours." He held up three fingers. "I load the matrix, add parameters to your holo-emitters, and you give it access permissions."
Tarika slightly shook her head losing all confidence in the man. "Not quite access permissions. I want to see how it fares with no access except to appear."
A pained crestfallen look flashed across his face. But it went away. "I understand."
"Where did the program come from?" She asked eyeing one of the maintenance crew walking by.
"My brother found it in abandoned ship. He sold it and me to Mr. Gaish." Now the Pakled puffed up his chest as if he was proud he was worth something to be sold.
She slowly nodded as she highly doubted the ship was 'abandoned' as claimed. It was probably stolen tech from some place. Well, it was just a hospitality program. It won't have access to anything except to appear and speak its mind. She wasn't that sure of it yet until Lennier really looked at it indepth before she gave it access to anything on the ship.
"That's good. Carry on then." She said, and gave him a wave and walked away. There wasn't much to do except for her to wait.
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Agent Rygaran D’Hronarin
Lyral D’Hronarin
Liral D’Hronarin
Kazis IX 
Stardate 2006.07
“The Prince’s Eye will look on this,” said Liral, using a phrase for certainty, “we can’t go in guns blazing.  Too much of a risk of Gaish catching a bad case of dead.  But he’s got those bodyguards, and they’re going get their claws out if we try to kidnap him.  No matter where he goes, he’s gonna have guards everywhere, so any attempt to grab him will cause trouble.”
Ryramorl looked at the PADD showing the whereabouts of Gaish and his girls.  “Got anything more powerful than these transponders?  Something you could lock on with a transporter?”
Lyral pondered.  “We do…  we’d just have to come up with a way of planting it.  You can’t hide them in water.”
“Could hide them in some jewelry or something,” said Liral.”
“It sounds too easy,” said T’Aayla, cautiously.
“We’re not just getting paid to nab him,” responded Lyral.  “We’re getting paid to keep his ass long enough for you to question him.  No matter what, the minute we grab him, his bodyguards will tear Kazis IX apart looking for him.”
Rygaran grunted.  “They will have your scent in their nostrils.”
Lyral growled.  “Our crew is itching to bust some Klingon heads.  Teach them not to scoff at water.”
Ryramorl looked to T’Aayla, to see if she had any ideas, though by the look on his face, he had one himself.
T’Aayla looked to the others and considered a dozen other options, none of which would work with the Carnora spearheading the operation. This would be done their way -- succeed or fail.
“Lead the way, Ryramorl,” she said. “I’ll defer to you on this operation. Let’s just get Gaish, alive, and find out what he knows.”
Ryramorl pondered.  “Gaish is headed where?”
“Going to the races and then to the casino.” Liral responded.
Ryramorl pondered.  “As the Muran say, the best place to hide something is beneath notice.”  He looked at T’Aayla.  “Do either the races or casino here allow for private betting?” he asked.  “If we hid a transponder in something, and I lost it in a bet to Gaish, we could pluck him right off the planet.”
T’Aayla pondered the question a moment, recalling her limited knowledge of this and other casinos, and eventually she nodded. “I believe they do allow for private betting. They will not enforce collection of such wagers and will not tolerate outbursts or conflict on casino property if someone is squabbling over a personal bet. But there’s nothing I can recall that says you can’t do it.”
“Your trap is a maze where a pit would do,” said Lyral.  “How’s this?  All of you carry transponders.  Find him, talk to him while Reepchip plants one on him.  Give us the signal, we lock on you, and beam you to our ship.  Even if he notices, so what?  He’ll be on our ship, and our guards will be ready to stun him if he tries anything.”
Ryramorl and Reepchip both nodded, seeing the wisdom in a more straightforward approach.
“So that leaves one last detail,” said Liral, gesturing to Rygaran.  “Want him on our ship or his?”
“Ours,” T’Aayla replied. “We’ll turn him back over when we have everything from him we require.”
“Done then.  Our ship it is.  We’ll let our crew know what’s coming."
Once they departed the private room, Ryramorl was given his clothing from his mate.  It was beautifully decorated with runic embroidery and other symbols, fit for a high-ranking member of a La’an tribe. The two face-rubbed each other, rumbling.
Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
Lt. Cody Beckett
Yevgeni Ibragimov
SS Venomous
Stardate 2006.07
Within a few short hours after meeting with Quark, Tiri, Cody and Yevgeni set out aboard the Venomous for Cardassian space, leaving Deep Space Nine in their wake. The young Andorian had enjoyed her brief time on the station and hoped someday to return. But now, they had work to do.
The ship went to warp and sped toward the Cardassian border. Tiri sat at the navigation console in the cockpit of the ship and turned toward Ibragimov at the helm controls. 
“We’ll reach the Cardassian border in three hours. Six hours from there to Relnok Nor,” she said. “So tell me, captain, how do you plan to get across the border?”
She looked over to Yevgeni and awaited his answer…
Cody swiveled around in his chair at the Ops conn and piped in “And how are we going to handle Rit once we get there? What’s our plan? The fact that we are in Cardassian space limits our options. So, how are we going to make Rit talk and show us what he has about the nanite tech Legion uses? He won’t tell us himself, and let’s assume he has a small army surrounding him, it will be hard to get close to him. What are our options? Eventually our goal is to get to his base in the Badlands, that’s where he probably has all the tech facilities to develop and produce the nanite tech on request. “Cody looked at Tiri, then to Yevgeni ….
Yevgeni listened to Beckett and nodded, “You’ll need to convince Rit you need to see his operation before you decide to make purchase from him. If you have more latinum with you, you will need to use it as an enticement for him...incentive for him to take you to his base.”
Cody thought of something else. “We should not dock at the station. Who knows how much control Rit has there and even if he hasn’t, the place could be infested with nanites without anyone else knowing besides him. Not docking also prevents them from being able to lock the Venomous to the station in case things go wrong. We should beam over. I’ll prepare a few field scattering mines, to shortly interrupt most types of shields so we have better chances to beam out. I will connect them to our personal shielding and to the transporter on the Venomous. So once they go off, our personal shielding protects us and we are automatically beamed over within seconds. Perhaps we should prepare a few tags so we can bring in Rit, if possible at all. “
Ibragimov heard Beckett’s ideas and agreed with a nod. “This is Yevgeni’s suggestion. Tiri tells Rit her company wants to make deal with him to obtain black market nanite samples. She will not make deal until she sees his operation in person. This will force him to take you there. It is unlikely he will want Yevgeni along. So Yevgeni will follow in Venomous, tracking signals from both of you. Once you are at his base, you can try to find information you need. Yevgeni will be nearby, ready to assist when you call.”
He looked to both of them, “Is good, yes?”
Tiri nodded and looked to Beckett, “I like it. What do you think, lieutenant?”
Beckett looked at Tiri. “I think it’s the only way to get to his base.” For a moment, his thoughts preoccupied him, then his gaze returned to Tiri. “We must be very careful with these nanites. We don’t know how advanced they are. If they roam the station, we might be infected as soon as we set foot on it. “
Tiri raised an eyebrow and cocked her head slightly. “You are a bit paranoid, aren’t you, lieutenant” Cody grimaced “I’ve seen a lot of tech from the black market already in my life. If possible, I would like to return to the Resurrection in one piece, preferably alive. That's makes me a little paranoid, yes. I’ve studied the swarm of nanites we pulled from Thompon’s body. As a tech itself, it’s magnificent. These nanites can adapt, modify themselves to their environment and their needs. It’s a dangerous thing, and we really should be careful” Beckett emphasized. 
“So what is your idea then ?” Yevgeni asked, without looking away from his interface HUD. 
Tiri glanced to Yevgeni, then back to Beckett. “I was able to extract some information from the sensor with which I studied them. From that I was able to create some algorithms which could help in determining the presence -or absence- from nanite colonies in a structure. However, these patterns might be specific to that specific nanite colony I studied. So we shouldn’t fully rely on it. Because of that, we should keep our personal shield emitter activated during the time we are on Relnok Nor or Rit’s base. 
“They will notice that,” Tiri answered. 
“Possibly” Becket replied. “But I can sufficiently explain it. Besides a ‘security manager’ I am also ‘the tech guy’ “ Beckett grinned....
Crossing the border to Cardassian space went uneventful, and after another couple of hours, they approached Relnok Nor….
SS Venomous dropped out of warp and approached the old Cardiassian station. Though it once looked almost exactly like Deep Space Nine, Relnok Nor was a hodgepodge of Cardassian, Dominion and Federation parts. The weapon system installed by the Dominion, long ago removed by the Federation, left empty sockets in the exterior of the old station. Some of the older Cardassian weapon system remained, but there was little there to defend the station.
Yevgeni signaled the station to their approach and after a long wait, they were told they could dock on the outer ring. A docking port there lit up and the Russian guided his ship in close to the ring. He brought the ship in with thrusters and connected his airlock with the station’s before powering down the engines and pressurizing the connection between Relnok Nor and Venomous.
He turned and looked at the two Shadow operatives. “Go on and meet with Rit.” He got up and went to the aft compartment where he produced a kit from under a seat -- some kind of hiding place the others surmised. He withdrew a hypospray and held it up, “Yevgeni will inject both of you with boridium pellet. The energy signal from pellets can be tracked at long range. Yevgeni suspects Rit will want to take you to base in Badlands.”
The Russian waited to see if the two would accept the pellets…
Lt. Daryl Thompson
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2006.07
Daryl had excused himself from the bridge and had done a short, but fierce workout in the one small spot in the holodeck amongst the cargo that was temporarily being stored there. Refreshed and focussed, he was on his way back to the bridge, meanwhile giving the AI new queries to run against the logs from the hacked Bird of Prey. As he entered the bridge, he heard the last few words from Lazarus, who was speaking to Vree. "Do what you can. I'll need a full report before we reach K7. Lazarus, out."
Daryl walked to the Ops console and the holographic interface lit up automatically. “Anything new, Captain ?” Daryl addressed Lazarus over subvoc “One of the Invincible crew members just died as he wanted to speak up about something. Implant. Legion apparently infiltrated the Invincible already. “ Lazarus replied. 
“Dang. They really have infiltrated deeply,” Daryl stated. Lazarus just grunted softly as a reply. A warning appeared in Daryl’s holoview. “One moment, Captain” he said, as he looked towards the messages scrolling over his screen. Daryl frowned. The AI seemed to have made a correlation between some of the logs….Daryl zoomed in on the information. The AI had already created a summary, and Daryl read through it. While he did so, he raised his eyebrows...This was interesting. He immediately addressed Mayla and Lazarus over the subvoc. 
“Captain, Commander, I’ve found something interesting in the datalogs from the BoP….The AI cross referenced data entries about data movement within the computer cores, navigational logs and personal log entries and found that the BoP has travelled sequentially to certain coordinates in Klingon space. With the information from our stellar cartography database, it appears that all these locations are where Klingon communications arrays reside. They stayed on each location roughly an hour and from the weapons systems logs, during that time, one our two entries show that a small mass was launched towards the exact coordinates of the communication array- or relay. 
“These small packages were loaded onboard in a small Cargo relay warehouse, near the Klingon border, a day before. Cargo logs accompanying these packages say to handle with extreme care. Logs are signed by Seraphim…. these might be very well the nanite packages they infected the relays with... I think this information might be of value when we arrive at the Klingon military command…To prove we are not making things up.”
Lazarus nodded, “Excellent work, lieutenant. See that Commander Carmichael and the Mad Hatters…”
“Madcaps, sir,” Mayla corrected him quietly over the subvoc.
Lazarus bristled slightly, “yes...the Madcaps...see that they are shown this data and briefed. If the Klingons are receptive to this information and our cooperation, we might be able to use Klingon communications arrays to give our engineers access to the nanites. Dismissed Thompson.”
Daryl nodded, walked back to his station and finished his work for now. Then he walked off the bridge into the lift “Engineering” hesitated, absently. Within moments, he was on the correct deck and walked towards the Engineering section. 
Madcap Engineers
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2006.08
The Madcaps had collaborated with Med Bay to get the nanite that was buried within the Andorian Sera, and were studying it to see its capabilities and the like.  They were also comparing their findings to what they’d learned from the communication arrays, to see if the nanite was of similar type.  Sometimes the simplest machines could be the most versatile.
As Lieutenent Daryl came to what had become their workshop, Daven saluted.  “Sir!” he said.  They’d been warned by Commander Carmichael that the free-wheeling style of the old days would not be welcome here.
“So, do you have anything?” Thompson asked.
Lt. Daven Corhees looked up from a scanner he had been peering into and smiled enthusiastically at Daryl, “A few things, actually. These nanites are not typical Risan stock.”
Daryl frowned, “We knew that.”
“But we did not know the extent. There are some rather intriguing modifications to these nanites. To the point they have received some level of artificial intelligence,” the Betazoid replied. “And despite their original application as medical tools, these nanites can do much more.”
Lt. Spargan took over, “The nanites, as modified, can infiltrate most known computer systems and are capable of rewriting and manipulating the performance of infiltrated system. For instance, with the communication relay situation, they are nested inside the relays, they attach themselves to all of the critical systems and they intercept, decrypt and communicate their findings back to a central location.”
Thompson stared at Spargan, “Do we know where?”
The Madcaps all looked at each other. It was Ensign Bryan Turner who answered, “We believe the trail leads to the site of a former Federation colony that fell into anarchy more than 35 years ago.”
Ensign Grollan, the Tellerite nodded, adding, “Turkana IV.”
“What’s on Turkana IV?” Thompson asked.
“Very little,” said Corhees. “The colony there fell into a state of civil war more than three decades ago. The factions on the planet refused assistance and evacuation. They severed ties with the Federation after that. The last ship to officially visit the colony was the Enterprise-D in 2367 while rescuing the crew of the freighter Argo. They reported a state of lawlessness on the planet.”
“Anything else?” Daryl asked.
Ensign Wong chimed in, “We are working on a way to generate a surge of omicron radiation throughout the communications grid. The nanites are susceptible to such radiation, it burns out their intramolecular processors.”
“Kill them!” said Grollan.
“Dead as a doorknob,” said one of the Turners.
Spargan raised an eyebrow and turned to Daryl, “Indeed.”
Armed with this new information, Daryl went to locate Commander Vree.
Lyral D’Hronarin
Liral D’Hronarin
Kazis IX 
Stardate 2006.09
Back at their base, Liral and Lyral laid out the contract--and what the trio wanted to do.  “We pull this off, lads, we’ve got our own territory.”
“Shor-Ghan IS howling for the guy,” rumbled one of the others.
“Here’s the thing--the Romulan wants him first.  She wants him ALIVE and uninjured as possible.  Shor-Ghan’s the same way.  Now, the Blood Way are gonna be pissed, they know we were involved, they’ll be digging for our den.”  He explained what Ryramorl, Reepchip, and T’Aayla were to do.  His crew would provide the ship for the interrogation, and protection from Gaish’s forces.  After she was done, she’d hand Gaish over to them, so they could collect the bounty.  And once Shor-Ghan was done with him, the crew agreed they’d try to turn Gaish’s ghost over to the late crewmembers Gaish’s goons had tried to kick off the ship...
The mercenaries began to get ready to make the score of the passing--deeps, the score of the entire Sentinel’s Patrol!
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Kazis IX 
Stardate 2006.09
Checking their PADDs, it wasn’t long before the trio headed towards the casino where Gaish was.  Ryramorl--now decked out in his La’an finery, cut a very impressive figure as he walked into the casino.  He knew a bit about Dabo--enough to lose rather badly, but not look like someone who’d never played it before.  Reepchip was dressed unremarkably and--given his height--was quite hard to see in the crowd. 
Ryramorl looked around, trying to see where the Dabo tables were and, more importantly, where Gaish was.  Reepchip chittered and gestured, pointing to one of the tables.  T’Aayla bid him go, and Reepchip tried to get close enough to Gaish to surreptitiously slip one of Liral’s transponders onto him.
At one point, Gaish, standing on a small step-stool so he could reach, stood at a dabo table and cheered excitedly as his winnings began to pile up. The opportunity arose and space opened up beside the Ferengi, though his Klingon bodyguards were positioned around the table, watching everyone in the vicinity.
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 4: No Mercy for Gault ==
U.S.S. Redoubtable
Enroute to Galnar III
Stardate 2006.12
President Aaron Gant sat at a conference table aboard the vessel bearing the designation Starfleet One. The official starship used to transport the president and his aides to conferences, events and ceremonies across the Federation and beyond. He was, technically, alone but still in the company of several officials who were there through holographic communication.
Admiral Kathryn Janeway, head of Starfleet, was there. She was joined by Admiral Zhao from Starfleet Intelligence and Councilman Calnash, a Betazoid serving on the Federation Council’s Intelligence Oversight Committee.
“We have received word that there was an incident at the Federation/Klingon border,” Janeway reported. “A Klingon ship ambushed and destroyed the Bird of Prey sent to retrieve Krang from USS Invincible. That ship then tried to impersonate the vessel sent for Krang but was unable to fool Invincible. Before Captain Delan and his crew could get away, they were attacked by a second Klingon ship, a dreadnought captured and under the control of Krang’s followers.
“USS Resurrection apparently intervened and there was a battle,” Janeway continued. “Invincible was destroyed. Resurrection took on the survivors and Krang and fled the scene.”
Gant looked at Janeway in disbelief, “Resurrection was ordered to stay away from the transfer.”
“We know, Mr. President,” said Zhao. “Attempts to raise Resurrection, Fearless and OpsBase One have been unsuccessful. Admiral Sorvek also left Earth and his whereabouts are unknown.”
“Are they maintaining some sort of communications blackout?” Gant asked.
“So it seems,” Zhao said, appearing annoyed.
“Does anyone know where they are?” Gant asked.
“No, sir,” Janeway confirmed. “I’ve put out an alert fleetwide to be on the lookout for Resurrection or Fearless and to report their whereabouts back to Starfleet Command. So far, nothing.”
The Betazoid cleared his throat, breaking the tension, “So if Resurrection has Krang, that’s good, right? At least Krang’s followers weren’t able to take him.”
“Good, councilman, but still in violation of their orders and it's damn unusual they haven’t reported in,” Gant said. “I want Resurrection and Fearless found and forced to comply with our orders.”
Janeway gave a nod, “I will relay those orders fleetwide, sir, but shouldn’t we consider there’s likely something much larger going on here. That entire organization has gone dark. No comm activity, no sightings, nothing. It suggests they are dealing with a larger problem.”
“It’s going to be much larger if they don’t report in and start explaining themselves,” Gant fumed.
“Sir, what if they are compromised, somehow?” Janeway asked. “Perhaps they have reason to believe they cannot trust anyone right now. Maybe communications are not considered secure. There has to be a logical reason for all of this.”
“They are reckless hotshots,” Zhao bristled. “They are determined to do whatever they want without permission. That kind of behavior isn’t going to fly here. I don’t know about you, Mr. President, but I’m about ready to pull the plug on Shadow Operations.”
Gant nodded, “I agree.”
“We authorized their reactivation to get some results,” Councilman Calnash said. “I’m not ready to recommend to the council pulling the plug on anything. I want to hear what Sorvek and his people have to say.”
“They're rogue, councilman,” Gant snapped. “This nonsense needs to be reigned in.”
“And I said we’ll discuss all the options, Mr. Gant, but shutting Shadow Ops down again isn’t on the table until we have answers.”
Gant bit the inside of his lip and glared at the hologram of Calnash. “Very well. Inform us when someone knows where they’re at. Gant out.”
The president ended the transmission and the holographic projections faded away. He then tapped his comm-badge.
“Gant to bridge,” he said.
“Captain Vukovic here,” the captain’s voice responded.
“We’re altering course,” Gant told the captain. “Notify Galnar III we will not be attending the conference. Instead, set course for the Argolis Cluster, maximum warp.”
Talas Vukovic was silent for a moment, then after a long pause he said, “As you wish, Mr. President. Arrival in the Argolis Cluster in 12 hours.”
The Redoubtable then set course for the Argolis Cluster…
Agent Rygaran D’Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2006.12
Rygaran knew that this plan was going to stir up a nest of the Crawling Hunger, so he went to the main Den of the Frontier Guard on Kazis IX.  To the leaders, he explained that a contract on Gaish had come through, and he was going to be seized by Liral and Lyral D’Hronarin--and the Blood Way would come seeking vengeance.
“We’ll be on guard,” said the Guard Chief.  “Thank you for the alert.”  He sent out orders to all his guards, who were now on the alert for trouble.
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Kazis IX 
Stardate 2006.12
Reepchip firmly flattened his long ears and crouched a bit as he approached, keeping his tail coiled around the waist.  This trick depended on him being shorter than the table, making it hard for things to see.  His long dexterous fingers tried to slip the small transponder into Gaish’s pocket.  If that worked, he’d slip away, and give the signal for the beam-up.  If he was seen--well, he’d plant it anyways and signal for an emergency beam-up.  Liral had assured them they’d be at the ready.
Gaish and his entourage were oblivious to Reepchip’s presence. It wasn’t until after he’d planted the transponder that one of the burly Klingons noticed him near Gaish and gave a growl warning the Muran away from his boss, and Reepchip backed off, going back to Ryramorl, who bared a tooth slightly at the Klingon, but made no other gesture. 
T’Aayla watched from her vantage point in the casino and confirmed visually the Muran’s success. She then got up and walked casually toward the exit, with Ryramorl and Reepchip taking another to throw off suspicion. She keyed her comm-unit to signal the others that the device was deployed. 
Liral D’Hronarin
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Hunter Ship Rha’ara’an’s Peak
Stardate 2006.12
Aboard the Hunters of D’Hronarin’s ship, the Hunter’s Ship Rha’ara’an’s Peak, Ovanmero Rolmar Crater Drengar got the signal and locked onto the transponders.  When the Ataran’s boss’s patrons were out of the casino, he beamed them and Gaish up.  As the four materialized on the pad, they saw the transportation room was filled with several Carnora toughs of the four Landbound species, weapons pointed squarely at the teleporter pad.  As their forms solidified, those weapons shifted to point squarely at Gaish.
Liral had beamed up ahead of them (he didn’t like using the transporter, but this was an emergency), and greeted them  “Reepchip, Clan of Chara, House of Tet, First Name Ryramorl in the La’an Tribe of the Ra’yral.  Laran Skyy Raillius.  Welcome aboard the Rha’ara’an’s Peak, . Let us share water.”  He handed the three agents vials of water while the crew detained Gaish and Ryramorl explained Laran meant someone of importance in a house or tribe, but not necessarily a leader.  He then whispered Liral was possibly keeping her true identity a secret from the crew.
Gaish was dumbfounded. One minute he was on Kazis IX and the next he was aboard a Carnora ship with weapons pointed at him. “You! You’re all in big trouble! When my Klingons find out you’ve kidnapped me, there will be hell to pay!”
Liral chuckled.  “Lyral is actually looking forward to facing them,” he said.  “The Klingons are a race that literally scoff at water, and it’s time they got taught a lesson.”
Liral apologized to T’Aayla for the heavily armed welcome, but he had warned the crew that Gaish was being beamed aboard to fulfill a contract, and they wanted to take no chances.  “We can let you use the main meeting room to interrogate him,” said Liral, gesturing for her to follow him.  “Will there be anything you desire, Laran Skyy?”  He knew the proper rank equivalent was “La’an”, but to use it could cause suspicion amongst the crew.  He and Lyral would keep the knowledge of T’Aayla’s true name to themselves.
“Well, Mr. Gaish, I highly doubt ‘your’ Klingons are going to find us here,” T’Aayla said. “Bring him to the conference room. We’ll talk there.”  T’Aayla had been on many ships in her career, from many cultures, but this one was simply the most surreal she’d ever been on.
Only 500 years prior, a spacefaring race had brought the four Land Carnora races into the space age within a generation.  Prior to this, the Olvern, Ataran, and Usarin had been in the stone age, while even the most advanced Murans were bronze age at best.  With a shaky-at-best understanding of the scientific principles involved and no contact with the rest of the galaxy until their discovery by the Federation about 100 years ago, the Carnora’s animist religions and belief in magic, alchemy, and astrology had gotten inextricably mixed up in their engineering.  Every wall, panel, ceiling support, display, even chair was covered in etchings and arranged in ways that Reepchip tried to explain, but it ranged from pseudoscientific to straight up mysticism--and yet it was clear the Muran considered such etchings and arrangements as necessary to the proper function of a ship as dilithium and warp field coils.  The physical technology of this ship was extremely outdated as well as this sudden influx of new technology had crippled innovation; instead of touch screens, they had keyboards, handles, switches, dials, lights, physical gauges, and screens that could not be interacted with.  As this was an Olvern-run ship, their tradition of utilizing the bones of the dead had resulted in many of those displays having bone inlays, or controls carved from bones, and even a cable was insulated by a specially-treated spinal column.  It was a means of engineering that made absolute, complete sense to the Carnora--and no sense whatsoever to anyone else.
In short, the Rha’ara’an’s Peak was 1.5 percent pseudoscience and hocus-pocus, 98 percent technological museum piece and 0.5 percent ossuary, adding up to 100 percent solid proof the Carnora shouldn’t have gotten off their homeworld for at least another 3,000 years, never mind gotten warp drive.
When they arrived in the conference room (which had a few Carnora skulls on the walls), one of the four Carnora guards grabbed the diminutive Ferengi and lifted him up into a chair like a child. Gaish growled and struggled as he was snatched up and placed in the chair. The Carnora seemed unfazed by his struggling as T’Aayla took a seat across the table from him.”
“You’ve got a lot of guts, Romulan,” Gaish sneered. “You’re going to be sorry for grabbing me like this.”
“Shut up and listen,” Raillius muttered. “We require information from you regarding your business dealings with a group operating across the Alpha and Beta quadrants. They call themselves Legion. Familiar with them?”
Gaish studied her, standing up in his chair to appear slightly taller. His mind raced, collecting the data he knew about Legion and deciding exactly what to say and what he shouldn’t say.”
“Perhaps,” he grinned, showing his pointy little teeth. “I’m not one to rollover on my clients. It’s bad for business.”
T’Aayla nodded, “Indeed. So is upsetting a Carnora.” She looked at the hulking brutes standing to either side of the Ferengi. 
Gaish glanced to either side of him and frowned, “They can be controlled. Just like anyone else. Carnora! Release me now and I’ll deposit a substantial amount of latinum in your accounts.”
The two Carnora guards did not flinch. They stayed standing to either side of him and stared straight ahead. Gaish’s face puckered into a deep frown.
“Fine,” he looked at Raillius. “I’ll pay House Raillius for my freedom. What is the price?”
“You think we care about money?” Raillius smirked. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll see what I can negotiate with the Carnora on your behalf.”
“You mean I’m a prisoner of the Carnora? I thought they were just your hired muscle?” Gaish stammered.
“They are allowing me this interrogation,” she said. “You are their prisoner. Are you familiar with how they treat criminals?”
Gaish was silent as he looked at T’Aayla, assessing just how serious she was. He could not detect a hint of guile or subterfuge. Suddenly he fell back into a sitting position, making it so his head was barely visible on the other side of the table.
“Legion? I think I know who you’re talking about. They’ve never gone by an official name,” the Ferengi said. “Always wanted equipment and supplies. I helped them refit several old ships...a few Klingon Birds of Prey. Some Naausican vessels and a Romulan ship or two. “
“Who was your contact with the organization?” she asked.
“A hu-mon named Archangel. Once in awhile he sent another man, called himself Seraphim,” Gaish explained.
Raillius nodded, “What exactly did you sell to them?”
“LIke I said, mostly parts to refit their ships,” Gaish said. “Advanced technology refitted into the shell of older, surplus vessels. There were some weapons, but they seemed to be well-equipped in that area.”
“Anything that stands out?” the half-Romulan asked.
Gaish sighed and thought for a minute. Then she slowly nodded, “There was a period about two years ago, they bought a lot of communications relay equipment, including a couple of orbital comm-relays. I got them Romulan relays. Top notch stuff. You know, the way your people make them?”
She gave him an annoyed look, “They must have been the best. So, this Archangel, did he ever talk about the organization? Did he speak about details of what they were doing?”
Gaish folded his arms across his chest, “These Carnora...you’re going to put in a word for me. Get them to cut a deal?”
“I will do what I can,” she said, leaning forward. “I have some pull with them, but ultimately your fate will depend on them...and the more you cooperate with me, Gaish, the more I will urge them to be lenient. But I need to know everything.”
Gaish grimaced, “Fine...Archangel spoke a few times about changing the way things are in the galaxy. Putting an end to petty politics, the endless wars and the need for clandestine organizations. He said it was the root of all that was wrong in the Alpha and Beta quadrants. Too many laws, too many fights and not enough research and exploration.
“I laughed at him...told him wars and conflicts were what kept me in business, but I agreed that we need less laws. That would also be good for profit,” Gaish laughed. “He is a dreamer, that one. Said he’d lost too many good people to wars, people he’d fought beside and people he’d loved.”
Raillius raised an eyebrow, “You two seemed to have had some conversations?”
“In the early days, when he first started coming to me for business, he’d sometimes spend a day or two on my private moon. Negotiations take time and I’d allow him access to all the amenities I have there,” Gaish said. “He never would partake of the women or the food and drink. He’d just find some tropical beach to go and meditate. Said he needed it to maintain...control...that was how he phrased it. I never understood that.”
“Control? Did he ever display anger? Or was it some sort of mental discipline perhaps?” T’Aayla pried further.
The Ferengi sat back and got a sudden flash of excitement, “Oh yeah...I forgot...there was the time he was on my moon and I had several other customers there. He got into an argument with a Gorn I did business with from time to time. The Gorn was angry because Archangel out-bid him for a shipment of trilithium explosives he wanted. 
“So, the Gorn started a fight with Archangel and he tried to avoid a confrontation, but the Gorn swung at him with one of those big claws and Archangel turned his own arm into a sword and ran it through the Gorn like a hot knife through butter. Killed him dead,” Gaish said excitedly. “Never seen anything like it. Not typical hu-mon abilities.”
T’Aayla was quiet a moment, taking in what the Ferengi had told her. “Did this appear to be a shapeshifting ability, perhaps?”
“A Changeling, maybe,” Gaish said. “I’ve heard of Founders doing things like that, but with Archangel I’m thinking more along the line of nanotechnology. In fact, I know for a fact he has done business with an arms dealer called Krido Rit. Rit deals extensively in nanotech and black market medical technology.”
Rallius’ mind was filled with thoughts, not of which led to anything good, when she finally dropped her last question, “The one called Seraphim, did he seem to be similar to Archangel?”
“Not at all, other than they were both hu-mons,” Gaish said. “Seraphrim was completely different. Not nearly as disciplined. He would spend time with the girls on my moon and he enjoyed drinking and gambling when he was there. Not like his boss.”
T’Aayla nodded, “If I have you work with a holographic artist, do you think you could provide sketches of both men?”
Gaish shrugged, “If you’re going to see about getting me out of this mess, then sure. I’ll do anything.”
She produced a pocket-sized holographic projector and placed it on the table in front of Gaish. The half-Romulan then keyed some commands into a data PADD and a voice came from the holo-projector. “Describe to me in detail the first individual,” it said.
Gaish began to dictate the appearances of both Archangel and Seraphim as Raillius stepped out of the room, leaving the Ferengi guarded by the Carnora. She found Liral and approached, “He has been remarkably cooperative. I have him providing details for sketches of two individuals who he says are connected with Legion. I promised him I’d speak with the Carnora about his fate. Anything you can offer up in that regard?”
“Tell him if he’s as co-operative about who was behind the uprising against the old Carnora Republic, Shor-Ghan’s going to be merciful.  That’s an old contract, written right after the fall of the Republic, and Shor-Ghan’s temper has cooled by now--but not enough for him to retract a contract that would come in useful someday.  We’ll advise Shor-Ghan to sheath his claws and cover his teeth, and that should make Gaish more willing to talk.”  He pondered, then his muzzle quirked into a thoughtful grin.  “If you think he deserves safe return here, then put in a good word to your House about our value as bodyguards, and we’ll make sure Gaish comes safely back to Kazis IX after his talk with Shor-Ghan.  The Kazis System is a zharin’s warren of mercenaries, and there’s only so much grass to eat.”
T’Aayla went to Gaish, who was cooling his heels in the conference room. After she entered, she stood across from him and placed her hands on her hips. The half-Romulan gave the Ferengi a harsh glare.
“They are very unhappy with you, and it took some assurances on my part, but they are willing to be lenient with you on the condition you are truthful with him about who was behind the uprising against the old Carnora Republic,” said Raillius. “Shor-Ghan will be merciful if you are cooperative.”
Gaish frowned. “This day has been very bad for business. I can’t afford to lose another customer.”
“You could lose all of your customers, your bodyguards, you ladies and your moon if you don’t tell me what the Carnora want to know,” she said. “Assuming they don’t kill you outright, I’ve heard some terrible stories about Carnora prisons.”
T’Aayla actually hadn’t heard any such stories, but it sounded good and she assumed it was probably not a good thing to be on the bad side of a Carnora. She let that sink in a moment until finally, Gaish cracked.
“Fine! It was the Orion pirate Zhkresh Ontura. He bought a huge cache of weapons, explosives and medical supplies from me and gave them to the rebels,” Gaish muttered. “That’s all I know. I sold him the equipment, he delivered it to the rebellion.”
T’Ayla nodded, then retrieved the holographic device from the table she’s used to record his descriptions of the Legion leaders. “Did you complete the drawings?”
Gaish gave a nod as he pouted across the table, “They look very accurate from my memory. I spent more time with Archangel than the other one, so I may be a little fuzzy on the one called Seraphim. 
Raillius tapped the projector and the two images were displayed in the air above her hand. T’Aayla’s brow furrowed as she looked at the first man. “This one,” she nodded toward the man with brown hair, graying at the temples, with blue eyes. “He’s Archangel?”
Gaish nodded, “That’s him.”
Raillius looked at it again and a shiver ran down her spine. He looked very familiar. In fact, she was certain he was someone she had seen before.
“Thank you,” she told Gaish. “Good luck with the Carnora. I will let them know what you told me.”
She put away the projector and headed into the corridor where she found Liral waiting patiently. “He fingered an Orion pirate named Zhkresh Ontura as the one who bought weapons from him and fueled the rebels. That was all he knew. He sold Ontura weapons, explosive and med supplies and the pirate delivered the goods to the rebels.”
She stepped closer to Liral, “I need to get back to my team. I think he’s provided us with some valuable information about our own problem. And under the current circumstances I cannot send a transmission.”
“Hm.  We’ve had Zhkresh’s scent before.  Well, the contract says we have to deliver Gaish in person, so we’ll have to keep him on board.  We’ll keep him fed and as comfortable as the brig can be.  Is the rest of your team on Kazis IX or elsewhere?”  He walked with her back to where Ryramorl and Reepchip were.  As they passed beneath a hallway arch, he paused before a skull mounted at the peak of it and spoke to it with a tone that suggested he was talking to an old friend and gesturing to T’Aayla  He then looked at T’Aayla.  “I was just explaining to Zharo why a Romulan was on our ship,” he said, gesturing to the skull.  “He was one of our guards in life, so it’s only right to let him know what’s going on.”
“They are elsewhere,” she indicated, speaking of the rest of Phoenix Squad. “We just need to figure out where they are. They are running dark and we aren’t sure exactly where to find them.”
Commander Mayla Vree
Colonel Jahkar
Engineering, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2006.12
With Jahkar in tow, Mayla had led them to engineering where the Madcaps were working. Just as they approached the door, a loud exclamation came from the other side.
"Kill them!"
She gave Jahkar a hand signal to cover the door as she drew one of sidearms. Was there an intruder inside trying to take over the Resurrection?
The door suddenly opened with Thompson stopping short of the threshold, not looking at Mayla or Jahkar, but at the pistol that was pointed at him. He slowly raised his arms.
"I'm okay!" he exclaimed, thinking maybe they thought he was having one of his 'episodes' again.
Mayla holstered her weapon. "We thought we heard some yelling."
Daryl looked to one side, a bit embarrassed. "I guess you heard that."
"Loud and clear, Lieutenant," she said, stepping into the small space on the catwalk overlooking the coaxial drive. "What did you find?"
Daryl gestured her over to the work table he and the Madcaps were working at and brought them up to speed. "Omnicron radiation surge,' Mayla said, watching Wong do a dance of fingers on his console to create an animation of what it would do to the nanites. "Those particles are very rare. And even if we can get our hands on some, how would you administer the surge without killing anyone else?"
Daryl pondered for a moment. Then he entered some commands on his console, and a schema of the Resurrection appeared above the  table. Daryl zoomed in on the engineering section and studied for another few moments. “We can create omicron particles if we modify the matter/antimatter ratio and inject an ultra-high frequent graviton beam in the intermix shaft. The secondary expansion vats could be used to store all radiation. From there, the omicron radiation can be directed through the replicator systems onboard of the relays. Since the relays are unmanned, no one will get hurt. It should be doable. It will cost us some matter and anti-matter as the process has a high M/AM ratio” Daryl concluded and looked around the table to gauge everyone’s reaction
There was silence from the others as they pondered.  “It’s a bit of a stretch,” agreed Ensign Wong.  “But that may be the best we can do.”
Mayla enlarged a small waiting diagram of the nearest subspace relay station to DS-K7 that someone had already accessed. "Relay station 7134 is unmanned with only a parts replicator for repairs. And it's only an hour away from K7. Will it be suitable for what we want to do?"
Daryl and the Madcap Engineers gave each other a glance. "It might. Won't know until we're actually there. Without access to attain more information and detailed schematics and diagrams, we'd have to examine the station ourselves. And to verify that the nanites are actually there in the system."
"That's a good point," Jahkar said. "All this is still speculation until we get some hard data."
"I'll suggest to the Captain we head to this subspace station under cloak after DS-K7 before we take Krang to Ty’Gokor. Get together whatever equipment and personnel you need to proceed. I'll update the Captain." Mayla then brought up a map of the quadrant and what little information the Resurrection had on the Turkana star system and Starfleet's last encounter. The report included a noted warning from Captain Jean-Luc Picard when the USS Enterprise responded to the Arcos' distress call.
"I've been listening, Commander." Lazarus' voice came over their subvocal. "If we can get communications back online without fear of eavesdroppers, we can bring the team back together quickly."
"Aye, sir." Mayla answered and looked at her team mates. "Now, as for Turkana IV." Mayla said at what little data they had scrolled in midair.
"That's a perfect place for Legion to hide if they are there," Jahkar said, perusing the planet's defenses on the planet and in orbit. "Warring factions of equal offenses and defenses at a stalemate."
She stared at the tactical schematic of the planet and had to agree. They would be discovered if they had to beam down. Any ship nearing the planetary defenses would be challenged. Even a suborbital insertion was nearly impossible due to the proximity sensors to keep watch on each other.
"If we only had detailed geological maps of the interior of the planet," Mayla contemplated. "We can phase cloak into the planet, unphase in a cavern, and jump out of an airlock."
Just that last comment was almost humorous, as almost no one ever jumps out of airlock of a starship.
"That's only if they don't have anticloaking tech. We don't know how far along they've come with weapons technology and sensors." Jahkar put his hands on the table and leaned forward. "War tends to spur innovation."
Jahkar recalled data he’d read about Turkana IV and then produced a PADD which he used to pull up information from the ship’s database. 
“These people have been left to their own devices for 30 years,” Jahkar said. “Unless Legion has infused some sort of technology into the mix, they must be reduced to fighting with rocks and sticks by now. There are no records of contact with the colony of any kind -- no communications, no physical contact, no records of ships civilian or military visiting there.”
He looked to Mayla, “For all we know, the warring factions there might have killed each other off.”
Ryan Turner nodded.  “Thirty years of anarchy is plenty of time for the power to fail--and in that situation, who’s gonna flip the switch back on?”
“If there’s even a switch,” said Grollan.
Without a recon of Turkana IV, they could only speculate on the status of the population on the planet. They could also have destroyed each other on a global scale by now.
Jahkar growled under his breath, “We need that shuttlecraft. I could go on ahead to Turkana IV and scout the planet. Any chance I could be dropped there by Resurrection if we traveled by coaxial drive? I could scout the place and have intel ready when you all return from the comm-relay. You know recon is something I’m trained to do.”
He looked to Mayla to see what she thought.
She sadly shook her head. "The shuttlecraft is beyond our reach, and no way to call for it without using communications."
Daryl looked at the ship complement of the station they were currently headed to. "What about DS-K7? Think we can get a shuttle from there?"
"As soon as Jahkar sets foot on that station, our position will be pinpointed. And if they get wind and track his shuttle to Turkana IV, they'll know we're on to them and might move operations." Mayla also didn't like the idea of splitting them up even more. "I think it's best to jump to Turkana IV and perform the recon ourselves. If Legion is there, we at least have an element of surprise and can immediately assault the facility."
"With just the three of us?" Jahkar asked.
Mayla had to think about that one. Without having any intelligence on the size of the defending force, they could walk into a slaughter.
Daven spoke up.  “Do you want us with you?”
"We will address Turkana IV when we reach to that point," Lazarus said over the subvocal that only they heard. Mayal relayed his message. "For now, let's concentrate on getting these passengers off and get to that relay station quick. The faster we can get comms online again the better. And then get Krang off my ship."
Lyral D’Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2006.13
Lyral was in the headquarters of his mercenary crew, getting them ready for when the Blood Way inevitably kicked in the door.  He’d stationed some at the windows with weapons, ready for a full-on battle with Gaish’s goons.  Gaish had been kidnapped, and the Blood Way would know who had been behind it.  If the Blood Way wanted a fight, they’d get one.  As he checked outside, he saw the Frontier Guard forming up as well, taking strategic positions.  One of the officers let Lyral know that Rygaran had warned them of coming trouble.
The Carnora citizens saw the guard forming up, guessed a fight with someone was coming, and started to clear the streets, so as not to get caught in the crossfire.
Lyral saw a group of Klingons approach the Carnora neighborhood in the Rajaran District, and Guard Officer Ordanaro Dargon Plateau Ngagar astride a heavily-armoured Horghenhar approached.  “Who are you and what is your business here?” the officer demanded.  
K’vada, son of HaQmar, was in charge of the bodyguard detail assigned to protect the Ferengi Gaish. He led a party of seven Klingons, all members of the Blood Way mercenary group as they walked toward the entrance to the Carnora neighborhood. Each wore the black armor of the Way, each carried a disruptor rifle, a bat’leth or mek’leth strapped across their back or the latter at their hip, and a disruptor sidearm also slung at their hips.
“We have come for our employer, the Ferengi Gaish,” K’vada barked. “The Carnora rodent was seen dropping something in his pocket just before he was transported away. Give him back to us now, or face your deaths!”
Lyral bared his teeth--Carnora and Klingons didn’t get along most of the time, but he and K’vada took it even further with mutual loathing.  “The petaQ you work for is going to be brought before Shor-Ghan to face charges of aiding and abetting a rebellion,” he called from his window.  He spoke in Klingon, knowing K’vada would take the inevitable distortion of the words as a personal insult.  “And you know better than to bring your worthless tail here, toDSaH!  So you and the taHqeqpu’ you command go back to your hole and wait until we’re done with him.”
Officer Ordanaro’s tail flicked.  While he personally disliked K’vada as well, he wasn’t going to deliberately pick a fight--but clearly, that bonfire-blooded Lyral was itching for one.  He gestured to his men, who took aim and got ready for a fight.
K’vada looked around at his team of mercenaries and with a battle roar they charged, drawing bat’leths and mek’leths before wading into battle with the Carnora security force.
Captain Tarika
Tachi Koma enroute to Thranos System, sort of
Stardate 2006.14
Two hours out of Kazis IX, the Tachi Koma was cloaked and heading towards Romulan Space; nearly in the opposite direction of Nevra. As they reached the border, Tarika ordered the deployment of one of the Tachi Koma's surveillance drones on a programmed course along the border and towards the outer rim. With a brief flash, the drone came out through the cloaking field and sped off with Gaish's tracker sealed inside the drone's casing.
"Drone is away," Lennier reported.
Tarika was sitting at the helm console while Marcus sat at the companion console next to her. "Very well. Marcus, take over. Crazy Ivan, and then take us to Nevra in the Tharnos System."
"Aye, Captain," Marcus answered in a brisk manner with his accent.
Tarika got up and went to her captain's chair and settled into it. "Lennier, have you taken a look at our new holoprogam?"
"The code is highly complex for a hospitality program. There are several black boxe subroutines that are encrypted, or coded, I can't tell which, that I cannot discern their function." Lennier was at his own console perusing the data.
"So, should we run it?"
"It's already running, Captain," Lennier said. "It's been running since that Pakled's team left. It's just waiting for us to activate it."
"You've made sure it doesn't have access to any of our core systems?" Tarika drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. She was always a little bit nervous running a new holo-personality for the first time in her ship made from mismatched parts.
"It only has access to the holo emitters. And even then it is only set up to project, not physically interact like us." Lennier then turned and smiled at her, as if he was 'feeling' superior.
"Let's have it a go then. Activate the hospitality program."
A young woman appeared behind Lennier. She looked human in a slimming black jumpsuit with red trimmings. Her short cropped black hair had dark crimson highlights throughout. Her green eyes had a changing pattern similar to a slow churning atmospheric storm. Her angular face gave her a hawkish look about her.
"Greetings. I am Chani, your hospitality guide. How may I help you today?" She gave them all a sweet smile.
"Chani, what is your primary function?"
"I have been programmed to create an environment to make your stay with us as comfortable as possible. Anything you may require ranging from food to entertainment is not out of the ordinary. It is my duty to accommodate you to the best of my abilities."
Marcus smirked. "What type of entertainment is included in your abilities?"
"I can offer you various vids or music from my extensive library, holodeck recreations from historical records of various races to completely unique experiences, virtual tours of planets, or even holographic recreations from any personal vids you may have."
"We don't have a holodeck, Chani," Marcus said offhandedly.
"Would you like to hear a song then, Captain?" Chani said, as if ignoring Marcus' comment and looking directly at Tarika. 
The look surprised her as she had not introduced herself, but the program knew who she was somehow. Tarika noticed something that flashed across those green eyes for a split moment that seemed strange to her.
"You sing too?"
"No, Captain. I can access the music library of various empires stored in my memory banks and play them for you. Or if you'd like I can randomly select a piece to perform for you."
"Very well, Chani, you choose." Tarika said, wondering what kind of song the program would select.
I'm a soldier meaning that I am
Both the defendant and the judge
I'm standing on both sides of the fire
Going around turns, overtaking death and life
Do not cry
Hide the tears
Because a new day will come
Your fire
Will warm
Thousands of hearts
But now rise
Hide the deep pain and fear
The one who fights best will win
Know that everything is in your hands
Save your tears
For the day
When our pain is far behind
On your feet
Come with me
We are soldiers, end your lie
Save your fears
Take your place
Save them for the judgement day
Fast and free
Follow me
Time to make the sacrifice
We rise or fall
The staccato melody ended as quickly as it began. Chani Looked at Tarika with eyes as if hoping for approval.
"A war song?"
"A very old one from a now extinct warrior species."
"I can see why by those lyrics," Zhann said, who had been sitting at another console off to the side. No one had noticed her appearing.
"A warrior's creed," Tarika said. "Live and die by judgement on the battlefield." She looked at the holoprogram up and down. "I think that's enough for today, Chani. You are dismissed."
"Yes, Captain." She gave a bow and faded away.
Tarika looked at her holographic crew. "What do you think?"
"How did she know you were the captain?" Zhaan asked.
"Maybe by her position at the center chair?" Marcus said without taking his eyes off of the navigational panel. "At least she didn't address you by name."
"If that happened, there would be something more to her programming than just a hospitality program." 
"What would we use her for?" Marcus asked.
"In case we have guests? Whether wanted or unwanted?" Tarika said swiveling her chair around to Lennier. "Maybe alter her programming with some tactical protocols."
"We will have to augment her programming. It's more complex than any of our programming code to alter," Lennier said. "I can add tactical, weapons, and security protocols into her knowledge base."
Tarika wasn't too sure if she wanted to arm the program especially when it was from Gaish. But chances are, Gaish wouldn't have anyone knowledgeable enough to alter the programming if Lennier said it was as complex as he said it was.
"Let's start with fitting her with some shipboard duties first starting with cleaning the ship. Add to her programming on how to look for any trackers or explosives attached to the ship. I'm sure you can offer her your perspective on the techniques you use." She looked over at their position on the star charts and estimated their travel time to Nevra. "We have some time. Maybe she will become useful as the watchdog of the ship."
She left the bridge and retired to her quarters. As spacious as the Tachi Koma was, her quarters were the same size as standard crew quarters on a federation starship. The only addition she had was a large closet to house various weapons and personal items she'd picked up as Tarika over the years. She got herself a drink from the replicator, some type of herbal drink Zhaan always had programmed for her, and sat down at her large desk and plush chair. From her pocket she pulled out the contract padd from Gaish and looked at the details of the job with data about the planet Nevra in her eyes. Classed as a Class H desert planet, it's silicate oxidizing atmosphere broke down chemical components if certain elements are introduced together. Landing on the planet would eat away the hull of her ship over time.
Hence the underground facility. And it was shielded against scanners to hide from prying Federation eyes and ears. Her instructions were to park at specific coordinates in asynchronous orbit and send a tight beamed encrypted code to a specific spot on the planet. Once the connection has been established, the beam would return transporter coordinates for the cargo to be beamed out.
She also looked at the coordinates in Cardassian space for the rendezvous. The Septimus System only held three planets. The rendezvous was near the farthest planet, in between two moons with concurrent orbits. The job looked straight forward enough, but she still studied all the information she could on both sites for the next six hours, until she had a small dinner and went to sleep for the night. After growing up on Earth, she had gotten used to the 24 hour day cycle and preferred it on ship.
They should reach the Thranos System by morning.
Federation Colony
Gault
Stardate 2006.14
Ensign Spenser de Vries was on nightshift at the orbital defense platform above the planet Gault. He and a handful of officers were in the small station’s command center in the wee hours of the morning assuring, once again, there was no threat to the farming planet below.
Starfleet had posted a defense station at Gault about 20 years ago, after the brief war between the Federation and Klingon Empire. During that conflict Gault was easily overrun and occupied by invading Klingons. It was eventually relinquished back to the Federation once the conflict was settled and Gault remained relatively unscathed in the aftermath of war – even during the Dominion War where it was untouched by the attacking Jem’Hadar.
Still, a defense station with a tacheyon detection grid to catch cloaked vessels trying to approach the planet and a small contingent of Starfleet and Federation Marines posted to it, made sense and provided the planet with some protection.
Gault was home to more than 30,000 people, mostly farmers, who had come here years ago to make a new life for themselves. One famous colonist from Gault was Commander Worf, who grew up there with his adopted parents, Sergey and Helena Rozhenko. The couple had long ago returned to Earth and were now deceased – though the planet’s favorite son was still well known to many citizens of the Gault colony.
De Vries was on his last deployment to the Gault orbital platform. In about one month he would be transferring to the USS Da Gama, which was setting out on a three-year mission mapping gaseous anomalies out beyond the Nyberitte Alliance. He was excited to be leaving on a shipboard assignment, even a mapping mission, just to get away from the monotonous business of guarding a colony.
Things were quiet this particular night. Gault was in the harvest season and freighters were arriving and departing daily to take the food produced there to other outlying Federation worlds. The worst that ever happened here was pirates attempting to steal a shipment of food or a dispute between space hauling companies.
So, when alarms suddenly blared an alarm, the group of young officers were nearly thrown from their seats in the command center. De Vries’ hands danced across his holographic display and he turned to Lt. Veron, a Bolian who was the ranking officer on the shift.
“Not a false alarm, sir,” the ensign declared. “I’ve got something appearing about 50,000 km from the platform.”
Veron walked across the command center and hovered over de Vries’ shoulder. “Red alert! Signal the colony. Raise shields and arm weapons.”
“Aye!” de Vries said. He then watched data flowing in from the sensors and gasped, “Sir, I have a massive Klingon ship. It just appeared out of nowhere.”
“It evaded the tachyon detection grid?” Veron balked.
“It appears to have just…phased into close proximity. Its shields are raised, weapons armed,” de Vries reported. “It’s…a monster.”
“On screen,” the lieutenant said as alarms sounded across the Gault orbital station. One of the officers I the command center called up a holographic image of a huge Klingon ship. Veron’s mouth was agape. “G-get the commander up here, ASAP!”
“We’re being hailed,” Ensign Howell said from her post.
“Open a channel,” Veron said. The image of the Klingon dreadnought disappeared, replaced by the full body of a well-dressed Klingon, his hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He was smiling at Veron as his hologram materialized.
“I know we’re allies, but you are in violation of the Khitomer Accords!” Veron admonished the Klingon. “Power down your weapons and stand down!”
“What a rude reception,” Kre’tok said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Indeed, I thought we were all allies. But apparently not. It is you, Starfleet, who will lower your shields and power down your weapons. I will not ask again.”
“Howell, send an emergency transmission to Starfleet Command,” Veron barked.
“I…I can’t!” she declared. “We’re being jammed.”
The turbolift doors slid open and Commander Natalie Gray stepped off the elevator and glared at the Klingon projected over the ops center.
“I don’t know who you are, but Klingon ships are not to approach this planet cloaked and must request passage,” Gray said sternly. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Make sure you record this, commander, I want you to send it to Starfleet when we’re through with Gault,” Kre’tok said coldly. “This is Lord Kre’tok of the lomqa' Clan. A Federation starship called Resurrection has taken my father, General Krang. I want him turned over to me immediately, or I will use the power of this vessel to inflict damage upon other Federation worlds. Admirals MacLeod and Sorvek. Captain Lazarus, Commander Vree…you have only yourselves to blame for Gault.”
Kre’tok then ended the transmission. A moment later, de Vries exclaimed, “They’re opening fire!”
The dreadnought unleashed its wrath upon the platform first. It intentionally ended its attack as soon as the station was beaten badly enough that it no longer posed a threat…as if its meager firepower would have stood a chance against the IKS CharghwI'.
The platform, it’s hull broken and blackened, drifted with power flickering on and off inside, visible through the portholes. The next attack came from the IKS CharghwI's multiple plasma torpedo arrays. The multi-launchers pummeled the planetary shield over Gault until it was breached. Then Kre’tok ordered an orbital bombardment of the planet, which was done with a portion of the ship’s complement of tri-cobalt devices.
The bombardment lasted nearly 30 minutes, all the while communications from the planet and station were jammed. When they were finished, thousands were dead on the surface, much of the farming sites on the planet were charred or burning.
When he was finished, Kre’tok smiled at the incoming sensor readings and turned to his helmsman. “Set course for the Klingon Empire. Re-engage phased cloak before jumping into slipstream.”
The IKS CharghwI' then turned and disappeared, leaving the destroyed remains of the Gault colony. Aboard the heavily damaged defense platform, Commander Gray ordered the crew to begin evacuation – those few still alive. She then walked over to de Vries station, stepping over debris littering the floor of operations, and reached down to lift the young ensign’s cold, dead hand off his console. She then accessed the sensor logs he had on his terminal and sent them, along with Kre’tok’s message, on to Starfleet Command.
She patted the dead ensign once on the back and said a prayer for him under her breath before leaving for the escape pods…
SS Venomous
Relnok Nor/Cardassian Space
Stardate 2006.16
Ibragimov administered the hyposprays containing the tracking pellets, injecting them into Tiri Sh’avelith and Cody Beckett. Once they were tagged, he opened the airlock and sent them over to Relnok Nor. 
The corridors of the black market station were much different than Deep Space Nine. Things were dimly lit, a lack of proper maintenance leaving many lights not replaced and in some places blast marks from phaser and disruptor fire marred the bulkheads. 
Tiri and Cody made their way to the Promenade of the station, where they found a flourishing marketplace filled with peddlers selling everything from food to medical supplies, weapons to spare ship parts and even some booth where stolen merchandise from across the quadrant could be purchased.
There were kiosks where mercenaries could be hired, assassins could be contracted and bounties could be placed on someone’s head. The variety of species were many and all eyes seemed to be on the pair as they walked through the marketplace.
Coming around a corner, they nearly ran into a pair of Cardassians who were dressed in civilian clothing. The two immediately took notice of Tiri and Cody and approached them with caution.
“Mr. Rit sends his regards,” one of them said.
Tiri nodded, “He’s expected us.”
“You are the clients sent by the Pakled?” the Cardassian asked.
“No,” said Beckett. “A Ferengi named Quark sent us.”
The Cardassians looked at one another and smiled. The one who had already spoken turned to them and gestured for them to follow, “Come with us. Krido Rit is waiting for you.”
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 5: Gathering Intel ==
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Liral D’Hronarin
Hunter Ship Rha’ara’an’s Peak
Stardate 2006.17
Liral’s comm chirped, and he checked it.  He growled softly.  “I have to talk to the guards,” he said.  He keyed his communicator, and barked orders into it in his own language, getting a reply.  “I just ordered them to put Gaish in the brig for now.  Seems his bodyguards decided to come after Lyral, and there’s a fight going on down there.  Apologies, Laran Skyy, but I’m staying in orbit in case the crew down there need to evacuate.”
Ryramorl growled.  “Did you know this would happen?”
Liral snorted.  “Deeps, I expected it.  The Blood Way is going to be furious that Gaish was swiped from under their nose.”
Ryramorl grunted.  “Which means we’re stuck up here.  I didn’t get a chance to talk to Myaral over who would hold the name Ryramorl in the La’an Tribe.”
Liral looked at T’Aayla.  “I know you’re worried about sending a signal through the network, but in this case we’d be communicating directly to the planet--and our communication equipment is not really compatible with the Federation’s unless we fiddle with it.  Think that would work?  Or should we send Ryramorl to his brother in person instead?  I’ve seen these discussions before, they seldom take long.”
Ryramorl nodded.  “Considering how long and often I’ll be away, and that Second Name Ryramorl’s a healer like the old Holder was, I’ll be content to be an Elder Name.”
T’Aayla considered the Carnora for a moment and speculated about how successful they could be at communicating with Resurrection, using Carnora tech, while avoiding Federation comm-relays. It would not be easy to establish contact, but she had a general idea of where at least one Shadow Ops ship might be operating.
USS Fearless was supposed to be operating somewhere between the Tango and Melona sectors along the Klingon border. The vessel was equipped with high resolution scanners and communication technology that allowed it to intercept and decipher all sorts of transmissions. It had been an intelligence gathering vessel for Shadow Ops for some time and had served the same purpose while assigned to Starfleet Intelligence these past years. A general transmission sent to that region of space should be intercepted by MacLeod’s ship.
“Can I use your communications aboard this ship to send a transmission?” she asked Liral.
Liral nodded.  “All right,” he said.  “It’ll be a long shot, but we could do it.”
Reepchip spoke up.  “I taught the Madcaps some of the Carnora communication codes,” he said.  “If we use those, the communications aren’t likely to make sense to anyone but them.  And at least it won’t be a telepathic signal.”  He shuddered a bit.
Guard Officer Ordanaro Dargon Plateau Ngagar
Lyral D’Hronarin
K’Vada, son of HaQmar
Kazis IV, Ranjaro District, Carnora neighborhood
Stardate 2006.17
As the Klingons charged, the officers raised their firearms and opened fire.  From the windows of his company’s stronghold, Lyral and his mercs did the same.  Let the Klingons call them dishonorable--to a Carnora, honour was gained by securing your territory and protecting your tribe.  The thunder of the chemical-powered ballistic firearms rang through the streets, as Carnora ducked down in their houses.  Males and females alike reached for their own weapons, just in case the battle came to their door.
K’vada and his men sought cover when the Carnora started shooting. They switched to disruptors and began to return fire at the Carnora security forces -- weapons were set to kill. Immediately sensing they were heavily outnumbered, K’vada opened a channel to Gaish’s ship in orbit and had a contingency of 10 more mercenaries beamed down to back up the Blood Way. These were humans, Naausican and a couple of Cardassians who worked essentially as grunts for Gaish.
The reinforcement came in shooting, one of them carrying a phaser mini-gun he and another began to set up on a tripod.
Ordanaro fell to the ground as the Horghenhar he was riding was hit by disruptor fire; he managed to roll behind it.  Dead or alive, it was still two and a half tons of flesh guarding him from the shots.  Two guards fell to the fire from the disruptors, and the beast one was riding got a glancing blow, spurring it to charge whoever had shot it.  Ordanaro called for reinforcements of their own, as Lyral roared out in his own Calling Language.  A third guard, wounded by the disruptors, had the presence of mind to command his own Horghenhar to charge the mini-gun.  He was dying anyways, but that gun had to be dealt with.
Lyral frantically called for backup as three of his men were gunned down.  Before long, eight crew members were beamed down, along with various weapons.  Behind the walls of the compound, they set up their own mini-gun, took position, and started firing.  
From above, a female Usarin roared in grief as she saw her husband blasted right off his Horghenhar.  Looking down, she saw the one who’d shot him right beneath the window of her apartment where she was starting to cook dinner.  With tears in her eyes, the newly-widowed Usarin grabbed the large pot of boiling water and dumped it straight onto the Klingon who’d just slain her husband.
From further within the neighborhood, the sound of hooves could be heard as more Frontier Guards approached the battle scene.
With the mounted phaser mini-gun, the Klingons began to reign heavy damage down on the Carnora community, the blazing fire tearing into Carnora and their domiciles. The dying guard who charged the minigun was dispatched with a spray from the rapid-fire phaser, and the massive carcasse of his mount skidded to a stop short of the gun.
With the Carnora sustaining heavy damage, the Klingons and their assisting mercenaries were about to make a push forward when the Carnora began to return fire with a similar heavy weapon of their own. Two Blood Way mercenaries were instantly killed and two of the supporting troops were also cut down before they had the sense to seek cover. From above, the Ferengi’s ship beamed down another squad of 10 assorted mercs to assist the pummeled ground force. This group contained five more Klingons from the Blood Way. They worked their way into the Carnora enclave, hacking and slashing with bladed weapons as they fought against the beasts.
As the phaser fire smashed through walls and windows, the Carnora battled back.  Murans--too small to use ballistic firearms--loaded their blowpipes with poisoned darts and fired them at the Blood Way mercenaries, while the larger Carnora took up ballistic and energy weapons, shooting back at the invaders.  Some of the newly-arrived Frontier Guard arrived with heavy guns mounted on the backs of their Horghenhar, taking strategic positions and firing.
Several Carnora grabbed the traditional spears and shields that adorned their walls.  Decorative they might be, they were still functional, and the Carnora fought back against the Klingons.  From one building, a large Olvern charged a Klingon unarmed, letting forth the chilling roar/howl of a Carnora gone berserk.
Ordanaro didn’t know whether to curse Lyral’s taunts, or if the Klingons would have attacked anyways when they were refused.  A well-aimed disruptor shot later, and it was up to the Ataran’s ghost to decide.
The D’Hronarin compound was taking the brunt of the assault, and Lyral had lost a number of good mercenaries.  Growling, he seriously considered retreating from the building, maybe even to the ship.
The Klingons had taken losses, especially among the non-Klingon mercs working with them, but they were resolved to get their employer back -- or kill as many Carnora as they could to compensate for their loss of honor. They regrouped behind cover and K’vada yelled out to the Carnora, “We will not be merciful if we have to begin entering homes in search of our employer. I implore you to turn him over now and avoid further bloodshed. You have fought with honor...there is no reason for you to incur more losses!”
Lyral looked at the wounded and dead hunters near him and keyed his comm.  “What do we do, brother?” he asked.
Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith & Lt. Cody Beckett
Relnok Nor
Stardate 2006.17
“Boridium pellets ? Are you serious” Beckett looked at Ibragimov. 
Yevgeni shrugged and smiled “They are effective” he answered.
“And give you radiation poisoning in the long run,” Beckett replied.
Ibragimov shrugged again, with a “I’m not impressed”-look on his face. “Yevgeni use pellets often. Still healthy and fit. “ 
Beckett shook his head. “Alright then. I’ll bring along a few doses of hypospray against radiation sickness. We don’t know how long we will be gone. How long do these pellets work? “
“At least a week” Ibragimov answered, while he moved to Tiri, and placed the hypospray onto her arm. As he activated the hypospray, Tiri’s eyes went big, as the pellets, which were rather larger, were shot through her skin. 
“What the…” she said, her face in a grimace of pain and surprise.
Ibragimov grinned again and shrugged once more. “Sorry. Pellets are a little big. Normally not for hypo. Hypo modified for more pressure.” Tiri looked at Beckett as if she expected him to say something about it.
Instead, Cody stepped towards Yevgeni, who reloaded the hypo and pushed it on Beckett’s upper arm, right below the shoulder. For a moment, the pain was real, and excruciating. Beckett pushed his lips together as a reaction. Within seconds, the pain diminished, leaving behind a burning sensation. 
Once they were tagged, Both Cody and Tiri moved onto the transporter padd. Yevgeni moved behind the console. “Ready?” he asked. Cody checked his gear one last time. They couldn’t bring much with them. They both wore their untagged black SO uniform under their civilian clothes. It contained the personal shield/cloak with one back up battery. It wasn’t much, and Cody even didn’t know if it really would keep the nanites away IF there were any, but it was better than nothing.  
Cody had a phaser strapped under his arm on the inside of the jacket he wore and a few knives in the back of his belt. It had to be enough. He looked at Tiri, who nodded. “Ready” he said. Yevgeni nodded and energized the transporter,  sending both SO operatives over to Relnok Nor. 
The corridors of the black market station were much different than Deep Space Nine. Things were dimly lit, a lack of proper maintenance leaving many lights not replaced and in some places blast marks from phaser and disruptor fire marred the bulkheads. 
Tiri and Cody made their way to the Promenade of the station, where they found a flourishing marketplace filled with peddlers selling everything from food to medical supplies, weapons to spare ship parts and even some booth where stolen merchandise from across the quadrant could be purchased.
There were kiosks where mercenaries could be hired, assassins could be contracted and bounties could be placed on someone’s head. The variety of species were many and all eyes seemed to be on the pair as they walked through the marketplace.
Coming around a corner, they nearly ran into a pair of Cardassians who were dressed in civilian clothing. The two immediately took notice of Tiri and Cody and approached them with caution.
“Mr. Rit sends his regards,” one of them said.
Tiri nodded, “He’s expected us.”
“You are the clients sent by the Pakled?” the Cardassian asked.
“No,” said Beckett. “A Ferengi named Quark sent us.”
The Cardassians looked at one another and smiled. The one who had already spoken turned to them and gestured for them to follow, “Come with us. Krido Rit is waiting for you.”
Tiri and Beckett followed the Cardassians. Both Shadow operators were on high alert, prepared in case this was a trap of some sort. They left the Promenade and were taken up a turbolift to one of the decks in the habitat level. 
Coming off the lift, they walked with their escorts until they reached an area that was clearly off-limits to those who were unwelcomed. Armed Cardassians, again all in civilian attire, blocked the way. They allowed Tiri and Beckett to pass, however, with their escorts. 
Once inside the perimeter the Cardassian’s were guarding, they were approached by two guards with weapons scanners. “You’ll have to leave weapons here. You can have them back when you leave,” one of the escorts told them.
Tiri willingly handed over her phaser that was tucked into the back of her pants. She then looked over to Cody to see if he would comply…
Cody nodded and opened his jacket, revealing the phaser tucked away under his armpit. He slowly reached for it, and handed it over. 
“Thank you,” the Cardassian nodded, almost politely. The other Cardassian scanned them once more, and nodded satisfied. “You may proceed”. The door behind them opened, revealing a large ready room, with quite a large window showing space. The room was sparsely decorated, however, the table was filled with food and beverages from across the quadrant. In front of the window, a Cardassian was looking into space. That must’ve been Krido Rit. “Please, enter” one of the guards said. 
Tiri walked into the room, closely followed by Cody, who, seemingly uninterested, looked around the room. His SO-lenses scanned the whole room, and several hidden turrets behind the walls were located. 
As they entered, the Cardassian turned around, and smiled slightly “Ah, there are my guests, my potential customers. Come in, come in!” he said. 
For a Cardassian, he was very hospitable. Out of nowhere, three servants moved in, and each pulled a chair backwards, so they could be seated. 
They sat down, as the door closed, and the two guards placed themselves on each side of the door. 
“Welcome, my dearest guests. I am Krido Rit,” the Cardassian introduced himself with a smirking smile. 
Tiri nodded, “Thank you, Mr. Rit. My name is Sasal Th'taoleq, from the Andorian company called Ch'izelaq Biomed. This is my personal assistant, Wade Carson,” she gestured to Cody who nodded politely to Rit. 
Rit shortly nodded to Cody, then his gaze returned to Tiri. Cody scoffed inwardly. Cardassians hadn’t obviously changed much, as as soon as a woman came into play, they focused on that with their ‘charming personality’ 
Tiri noticed the Cardassian’s attention on her and it made her uncomfortable. She’d spent very little time around Cardassians, but they were notorious for their sexist attitudes toward women and, she’d heard, their horrible mistreatment of women. 
She’d heard many horror stories about the occupation of Bajor and did not like being on the receiving end of RIt’s amorous intentions.
Still, she had to be nice. She could take advantage of his interest to help them get what they wanted, but there was a line she would not let him cross.
“So, Ms. Th’taoleq,” Rit said. 
“Call me Sasai,” she smiled.
“Sasai, I am told you are looking to purchase medical grade nanotechnology?” the Cardassian asked. “You do understand what I deal in is not...entirely legal?”
Tiri nodded, “You deal in black market medical and military technology. Yes, I’m very clear about that Mr. Rit. That’s why I’ve sought you out.”
“Indeed,” he said, looking the blue-skinned woman up and down. “And what would an Andorian biomedical company need black market nanites for?”
“Ch'izelaq Biomed has fallen behind our competitors and we are trying to land lucrative contracts in the Tholian Assembly, the Gorn Hegemony and among many non-aligned worlds,” she told Rit. “We understand you have developed nanotechnology that can do some amazing things?”
Rit looked at her and his intrigued stare slowly faded into a slight scowl, “Where did you hear this from?”
“One of your customers recently conducted business on Andoria Prime,” she said, leaning in closer to Rit and maintaining deep eye contact with him. “Nanites that were reportedly able to hack computer systems, communications and could be used to damage and destroy computer components.”
Rit slowly nodded, “Perhaps these nanites you speak of exist...perhaps they don’t.” THe Cardassian turned, “Computer, engage program Rit-One. Authorization, Theta-Zero-One.”
At that moment they realized they were in a holodeck, as everything around them suddenly transformed into an immaculate office, complete with a desk which Rit walked around and took a seat behind.
“Welcome to my base of operations,” he smiled. “I use this holographic representation when doing business offworld. Please, have a seat.”
Tiri and Cody were seated and Rit picked up a data PADD on his desk. “Ch'izelaq Biomed. I have been looking into your company and specifically you, Ms. Th’taoleq. Fascinating. Indeed, as you said, profits are down and you, as head of research, have been tasked with finding ways to boost sales.”
Inside, Tiri was breathing a sigh of relief. The covers prepared by Shadow Operations appeared to be flawless. She gave Rit a nod. “You are correct.”
“To be honest, I cannot take the credit for the Risan nanotechnology I deal in. Oh, some applications I have written programs for and a few of the innovations are mine. But the nanites are mostly the work of a third party who created much of the redesign specs for the nanities. I just mass produce them for him and to be honest, I am not entirely aware of how he uses them.”
She nodded, “But, you are aware of the use of these nanites on Andoria Prime?”
Rit laughed, “Oh yes, I’ve read the report my intelligence people acquired from there. It’s always interesting to see how my creations work in the real world, outside the laboratory.”
“We’d be interested in acquiring a batch of nanites from you. Actually, I’d like samples of both the medical and military versions of these creations.”
Rit pondered the question. He eyed Cody for a moment, then turned his attention back to Tiri, “Per my agreement with my client, I can only sell the medical application nanites to outside interested parties,” Krido Rit explained. “The military applications are currently exclusive to my client and his associates. Certainly, you understand?”
Tiri smiled, “Mr. Rit…”
“I prefer Gul Rit. I realize I am no longer in the Cardassian military, but I feel it is a title I earned,” he said, a momentary darkness falling over him.
“Gul Rit, certainly you and your client could both benefit from what my company is willing to pay for both the military and medical nanites?” she said. “You could consult with him or her and discuss our offer.”
“IS there an offer on the table, Sasai?” Rit asked.
She withdrew a small PADD from the handbag she carried and slid it across the desk to Rit, who looked at the readout and raised his eyebrows. “THAT is a substantial offer. Yes, I will need a few minutes to consult my client and see whether he’s willing to allow the sale of the military grade nanites. Acceptable?”
She looked to Cody, hoping he approved as she said, “Yes, please do…”
In the small moment Tiri looked at Cody, he shortly nodded, unnoticed by the others in the room.
Rit got up from the desk “Please, apologize me for a moment, my dearest Sasal. Please, help yourselves with a drink while I talk to my client” He shortly looked at Cody while he walked away, into another room. Probably all part of the Holodeck. It was smart. A holodeck could be created with a lot of security parameters added. Like not being able to fire weapons. Or absorbing possible phaser or disruptor fire on the spot. Holodeck’s, after all, were a web of forcefields interacting with each other. Cody saw the benefits. This Gul Rit, wasn’t stupid.  
“Charming guy” Cody said over the subvoc.”But he seems to like you” Cody continued
Tiri’s piercing gaze almost made him grin. Within a few minutes , Rit returned, and he acted quasi surprised as he saw both Tiri and Cody had not taken the liberty to pour in a  drink. “How rude of me” Rit started “Can I offer you something to drink?” Cody waved his hand. “No thank you” he said. “Not while I’m on the job” and smiled slightly. Rit immediately returned his attention back to Tiri…
Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
Relnok Nor
Stardate 2006.24
When Krido Rit returned, he seemed rather fixated on Tiri. She’d sensed his attraction earlier, but now he seemed almost predatory. His gaze made her uncomfortable and she began to wonder exactly why he’d left the room. Was it to communicate with someone off station, his Legion contact perhaps? This sent a chill down her spine, because she hadn’t considered the possibility – until now – that their cover might be blown.
“So, Gul Rit,” she said. “Are you going to sell us the technology, medical and military, or not?”
Rit looked at her as he drank from his glass of kanar. When he put down the glass, he smiled at her and then tapped his fingers on the desktop.
“I consulted the creator of the nanotechnology, to see how he felt about selling his work to a third party,” Rit said. “Unfortunately, he was quite busy at the time, so his answer wasn’t entirely clear to me.”
Tiri nodded, “I see. So, does that mean no?”
“You’re in such a rush,” he smiled. “It doesn’t mean no. But my conversation with him was more or less very informative.”
Tiri was becoming more unsettled. “Perhaps you’d care to enlighten us?”
Rit stood up and walked back over to the bar where he poured himself more kanar. As he prepared the drink, he began to speak, his back kept to the pair.
“I have known for some time my association with the man called Archangel would come to an end, probably quite abruptly, and when it ended I would likely be in a position where I had to make a choice,” Rit said.
Tiri glanced sideways at Cody, wishing now they hadn’t have had to come here unarmed.
Rit turned around and walked toward them, the kanar in his hand, “It appears I am at that point,” he continued. “Archangel tells me you are likely Starfleet operatives sent here to find out more about his nanotechnology and to find out what I know about him. Is this true?”
Tiri felt her stomach tighten into a ball. She decided since Beckett was the ranking officer here, she’d let him answer…but it seemed they too were in a position where they had to make a choice...
Liral D’Hronarin
Hunter Ship Rha’ara’an’s Peak
Stardate 2006.24
When Liral got the plea for reinforcements, he growled, and sent eight crewmembers down along with energy weapons.  He then keyed his communicator.  “Comm, see if you can find where Gaish’s ship is.”  He looked at T’Aayla.  “Excuse me, I need to get a certain Ferengi to talk sense into his goons.  You have my permission to use our communications just as soon as we sort this mess out.”  He headed down to the brig.  “Bad news, Gaish.  It seems the Blood Way has decided they want to play, and are now learning that the Carnora play rough--especially when it comes to Klingons.  I’m going to take you to our communicator.  You’ll tell your crew to STAND DOWN.  Otherwise, we’re not just going to have you, we’re going to have your ship for spare parts and your crew’s hide for trash sacks.  Do I make myself clear?”
Gaish looked at Liral and his innocent look suddenly faded to a treacherous little scowl. “I will make the transmission, as soon as I’m given your word you’ll release me as soon as I do. Otherwise, I’ll let my crew do their worst to your people. And don’t think my ship is a pushover, that vessel is heavily armed and armored. It will sustain quite a bit of damage and deal out even more.”
He looked at Liral with an evil stare, “So, what’s it going to be?”
Liral gritted his teeth.  Give up the bounty, and face severe consequences, or keep Gaish and risk the slaughter of the Carnora?  He turned and left, contacting the one person he trusted most in the Special Forces: his elder brother Rygaran.
Rygaran turned the answer over to the Chief Guard First Elder Name Rogannan in the Mrellar Tribe of the Mana’ar.  The aging Olvern shook his head.  “Return him,” he commanded.  “The Carnora enclave is getting torn apart down here, and we do not know the full might of the Blood Way.”
“So my crew must face the wrath of Shor-Ghan, then,” said Liral, knowing the OverKing would not be happy.
“No.  I will explain to him the nest of Crawling Hunger that was unleashed.  I know him well, he is not stupid.  Return Gaish, if it will end the attack.”
Liral went back to the brig.  “You win.  This time,” he growled bitterly as he opened the door to the cell.  He brought Gaish to the communications apparatus.  “Tell us which channel will communicate with the Blood Way.  Tell them to stand down, and we WILL beam you back.”
Gaish rolled his eyes. “Primitives.” He looked over the Carnora communications equipment, tapped some commands into the interface, and opened the channel they’d requested. “Gaish to K’vada.”
“Acknowledged, sir,” K’vada’s voice came across the speaker. “Where are you?”
“I’m fine, K’vada,” the Ferengi said. “Break off your attack on the Carnora and stand down. My hosts have promised to return me as long as you comply.”
The Klingon was silent a moment, then a grunt came, “Very well. We will withdraw back to the perimeter. But if you are not returned promptly, the deal is off.”
The transmission ended and Gaish smiled at Liral. “Happy?”
Liral simply bared his teeth and went to grab Gaish by the collar and haul him to the transporter without a word.  After some signing with the operator (who’d been talking with Reepchip), Liral practically shoved Gaish onto the pad.  The operator began the sequence--and Gaish materialized about 2 feet above the ground near K’vada.  It was a petty final jab, but nobody on the ship was in any mood to make things any more comfortable for Gaish than absolutely necessary.
Once Gaish was back, Liral went to Ryramorl and T’Aayla.  “My apologies for returning him,” he said, “but the Carnora Enclave was being pounded by the Blood Way.  I knew kidnapping Gaish would unleash a nest of Crawling Hunger, but the Blood Way was stronger than we anticipated, and I’ve been ordered by the Chief Guard to return him.”
“Crawling Hunger?” asked T’Aayla.
“A type of insect somewhat similar to ants on earth,” Ryramorl responded.  “And about as dangerous for the same reason.”
T’Aayla turned to Liral, “If you can show me the communication equipment, I’ll attempt that transmission with some help, of course.”
Liral took her to the bridge.  Reepchip told Liral he knew where to send it, and after some discussion with the comm officer, Reepchip was permitted to assist with sending the signal.
After some work, the communication apparatus was ready.  Reepchip looked at his commander expectantly.  
T’Aayla sat down at the console and studied it for a moment. Then, with the help of Reepchip she crafted a message that would inform USS Fearless of what they’d learned about Legion from Gaish, and she included the images developed by the holographic sketch artist based on Gaish’s descriptions of the man known as Archangel and another called Seraphim.
Once the message was composed and the images were attached, the message was broadcast into the region of space where Fearless was presumed to be operating.
Gaish, returned to his overzealous bodyguards, called off the Blood Way and the mercenaries began to retreat from the Carnora enclave on Kazis IX. 
Second Name Ryramorl Ra’yral
Sasso Charatetet
Kazis IX
Stardate 2006.24
Ryramorl was with Sasso Charatetet when he was called to near the battle scene to tend to the wounded.  Shocked that the Blood Way had attacked the Carnora neighborhood, the two Carnora made their way to the battle zone.  It would be the young Carnora’s first encounter with true battle.  Sasso kept telling him to block it out as he went to get wounded soldiers and bring them back for treatment, so they could enter the fray again.
When the firing ceased and Gaish was sent back, Ryramorl realized the battle was over.  Several Carnora lay dead in the streets, others were badly wounded.  With his medic’s pack, he went to the nearest one, and started treating him.
He tried to ignore the groan of the berserk Olvern coming to his senses and realizing there was a massive gash in his abdomen, but he winced at the crunch of the ground as the berserker fell over and succumbed to his wounds. 
Commander Mayla Vree
USS Resurrection, Deep Space K7
Stardate 2006.24
Nestling just merely three meters underneath the lowest module of Deep Space Station K7, the Resurrection decloaked after creating an electromagnetic scattering field to try to reduce its sensor signature. As soon as that happened, they had just a few minutes before the station would figure out what that polarized EM signature that appeared was. Without the carbon stealth coating as all Shadow Ops vessels used to have, the Resurrection only had the advantage of the coaxial drive over a standard Vigilant class ship.
The station itself was anything but standard. It had gone through several upgrades and additions since the days of Captain James T. Kirk. Extensions were added with additional docking pylons to accommodate larger and more ships when the sector changed hands several times in its 140 years of operation. A mixture of Klingon and Starfleet parts made the station look vastly different from any Starfleet base. Personnel modules were also added during the Federation-Dominion War to accommodate troops and weapons stores. Station defenses were upgraded to protect it from raiding Jem'hadar assaults. There were detailed logs and records of the station being attacked by other Klingons during the Klingon Civil War just thirty years ago.
After a few hours rest, Mayla was now in the cargo bay helping the crew of the Invincible beam out to the station as quickly as the transporters could re-energize. Under the guide and instruction by the Resurrection's Denubulan XO, Commander Sornax, groups of eight at a time were beamed over to the station. Minute by minute, the cargo bay seemed to feel lighter as it slowly became spacious again. Captain Delan was amongst the last group. He had only given her a nod of thanks before he beamed out. Then immediately the ship recloaked indicated by the alternate lighting scheme throughout the ship.
"Finally, I can have the cargo bay back again," one of the cargo handlers muttered almost in a whisper from the transporter console.
Sornax looked over to the human woman and gave her a patient smile often known for his species. But behind the smile was an intense look also known for his species. "I have very good hearing, Ensign Soril. I would appreciate it if you would stow that type of chatter."
The woman started as if shocked by an EPS tap. "Aye, sir. Sorry."
Mayla kept a grin to herself at the usage of old Earth American colloquialism. One of the professors at the Academy who taught several mandatory core courses used the terms often; almost as if it was a different language. He always had them turn off the universal translators in class so they could hear it worded and pronounced in English so its meaning wouldn't be lost in translation. Most people thought it was a way to give the cadets of all races a grounding in various Earth cultures and a lasting connection to one of the founding members of the Federation. She took one last look at the now empty cargo bay and headed out to engineering to oversee their next assignment at the subspace relay station.
"Commander Vree, do you have a moment?" Sornax asked, catching up with her at the door.
She stepped out into the hallway before addressing him. "I'm headed to engineering to prepare for our next mission. Would you like to walk with me?"
He fell into step beside her without a word. They walked in silence for a few moments before she initiated the conversation. "Is there something on your mind, Commander?"
"I know you and the Captain have known each other for quite some time. And that you had previously served with him in Shadow Operations." His voice almost had a singsong sound to it as if he was happy to have this conversation. His race was one of the most often seen in Starfleet as they'd been in contact with Earth since before the Federation's creation. A Denubulan was even a crewmember on Earth's very first prototype warp capable starship. She had learned about it in her Federation history class. In fact, she had the memory of learning it three times.
"He helped rescue me from a Cardassian internment camp when I was 10," she said. "And when I graduated from the Academy, I served with him until Shadow Operations was disbanded."
"I can see that familiarity when we met up with the Invincible." He gave her a thoughtful look on his face. 
"I apologize if I overstepped my bounds on the Bridge. You are the ship's XO and I should have ran my ideas through you instead of going directly to the captain." Mayla waited to see what his reaction was, as he would be in his right to reprimand her for going over his head.
"To be honest, I did find a little offense at first. But after the battle, I could see how in sync you were with what was going on, and the Captain seemed to let you take the lead in the operation." Sornax said without a hint of ego.
"That comes from my experience with similar incidents where the odds against us are hardly ever in our favor." She gave a slight smirk. "That's part of my job in Starfleet." She stopped just outside the door to Engineering noticing there was some other reason for this conversation. "Was there something specific you wanted to ask me, Commander?"
"Off the record?"
Mayla gave him a questioning glance. "Off the record."
His face fell just a millimeter as his smile turned into a frown. "The Captain, he is a difficult man to speak with. I cannot help but to have a feeling of inadequacy at times when I offer my suggestions on some matters."
"And you believe my actions on the Bridge helped support that theory?" Mayla folded her arms across her chest. 
"I would be lying if I didn't say it did," Sornax said. He checked himself to remember the young woman he was speaking with seemed to have much experience beyond her 28 years. "He seems...mad at me most of the time. Or agitated. I'm not sure how I should adjust to it. I would welcome any suggestions you may have in understanding his perspective."
Mayla let out a sudden laugh. She hadn't laughed in a long while. "Commander, the Captain has a heart of silver with a duranium exterior. Although, he might have some actual duranium inside him too. But he has more experience as a Starfleet officer than most of the captains in the fleet, even after his hiatus. He welcomes suggestions and ideas. He works best when he can hear all of the possible options he's already thought of, and then all the options he hasn't thought of. You'll get used to his gruffness after a few years."
"A...few years?" Sornax said with surprise in his voice.
"Yes," Mayla said, becoming serious again. "It will take some time. He does always seem to be in a bad mood, but don't let that put you off. He is still a consummate Starfleet officer who gets things done. I'm not saying he is oblivious to your feelings about any given situation, but he keeps his own in check so it won't affect his decisions." She could tell the man was giving some thought to what she was saying. All the while keeping an optimistic face. 
"I don't think I've ever seen him smile," Sornax said, bringing the frown back to his face.
"You can use this as a baseline to start off with. It took a little 10 year old Trill orphan girl to get him to dance and smile once in front of his crew." Mayla said with a little bit of fondness of the memory in her tone. 
"I guess I don't need to be a computer to figure out who that little 10 year old Trill orphan girl was." Sornax gave her a grin.
Mayla gave him a nod. "So there's proof that Captain Quentin Lazarus has heart and soul. It's just hard to get past the duranium."
"I believe I understand." His grin became beaming. All of the Denubulans she had ever met always seemed so optimistic, and calm. She couldn't help but to return with only just a smile. He was in a perfect position on a ship like the Resurrection, and as Lazarus' first officer. "I will take your leave now, Commander Vree. Thank you for your time, and perspective."
"Any time. And good luck." Mayla said and waved to him as she entered Engineering to check on Thompson's progress on preparing for their next task.
Colonel Jahkar
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2006.24
Jahkar left the cargo bay after the last of the Invincible crew had transported off Resurrection. Relieved that security risk was over, he joined Chas’naH in the corridor outside the bay and together they started toward the turbolift.
“So, what have you been doing with yourself since we last met?” he asked her.
She shrugged, “Starfleet Intelligence has me wherever there’s an issue with Klingons. Being about the only Intel officer with Klingon blood, they seem to turn to me as the expert.”
“Try being Romulan and Klingon,” he chuckled. “I was ‘consulted’ many times during the whole Romulan evacuation thing. The Marine Corps finally figured out I knew more about my Klingon heritage than I did my Romulan side.”
“I heard they were reactivating Shadow Ops,” she said. “Dad wanted me to transfer, but I’ve gotten accustomed to Intel.”
“You’ve made a niche for yourself,” Jahkar said as they entered the lift. “I understand. I got bored with training young marines. I figured this might be my last chance to get into active duty again.”
“I know...colonel...I remember back when you said you didn’t want to be an officer,” she grinned. “You were happy ‘in the trenches’. Then you decided to go to officer’s training school. I was shocked when I heard.”
“Shocked myself,” he said. “It kept me grounded while Kedanya was growing up. Now that both of them are grown, it’s time for me to do what I enjoy doing the most.”
Chas laughed, “FIghting and killing?”
“Fighting, yes,” he said. “Making a difference.”
She nodded as the lift arrived on the bridge, “I know the feeling.”
They stepped off onto the bridge and looked to see what was happening now that Resurrection had made the drop at DS-K7…
Crew of the USS Invincible
Starbase DS-K7
Stardate 2006.24
Captain Delan and his crew were greeted in the cargo bay of Deep Space K-7 by a security squad. The Caitian quickly calmed down the security staff of the station and was whisked away by several officers who took him to see the station commander.
Commander Fiona Monahan was nearly livid as the Caitian was brought to operations, where she waited for him impatiently. When he came off the turbolift accompanied by two of her security officers, the redhead immediately placed her hands on her hips and said, “What in the hell is going on? Who are you?”
“I’m Captain Delan of the USS Invincible,” he said firmly. “I apologize for our sudden intrusion, but we were left no choice.”
“Invincible? The Krang transfer. We heard chatter that your ship had gone missing,” Monahan said, her tone beginning to relax some. “How did you get here?”
“It’s a long story,” he said. “Commander, I need to contact Starfleet Command immediately.”
Monahan wanted answers, but understood communication with Starfleet was prudent. She motioned for the Caitain to step over to the communications officer, who opened a channel for him.
“This is Captain Delan of the USS Invincible to Starfleet Command,” he said. “I need to speak with Admiral Janeway, immediately!”
Chief Guard First Elder Name Rogannan in the Mrellar Tribe of the Mana’ar
Olvern OverKing Shor-Ghan Roshaigaro in the Arnor Mountains
Muran OverKing Rissa Jachekchek
Ataran OverKing Oragerek Zaveron Island Great Ring Sea
Usarin OverKing Urganagru Ragoar
Liral D’Hronarin
Lyral D’Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2006.24
It was important to let Shor-Ghan know the truth, and it was to that end that Rogannan sent the OverKing a full report explaining that the attempt to fulfill the contract had failed and why.  He didn’t expect an immediate response, but he got one anyways.
“How many died?” asked Shor-Ghan.
“Around 60, last count, and that was within a half-hour.  If the Blood Way had come in full force, they could have overrun the entire enclave.”
Shor-Ghan took a deep breath.  “When you’re able, get Liral and Lyral D’Hronarin to talk to me.”
---  Later  ---
Liral and Lyral stood before the screen, looking at the four OverKings: Shor-Ghan Roshaigaro, Rissa Jachekchek, Oregarek Zaveron Island Great Ring Sea, and a big Usarin neither of them knew.  “Rogannan told us what happened, and I agree with his decision to return Gaish--for the time being,” said Shor-Ghan.  “So the contract will remain unfulfilled and open for now.  However, The Pentarchy still has need of you.  Until the contract is fulfilled, you will work for the Frontier Guard.”
Oregarek spoke up.  “We’ve agreed that you should drill the citizenry in the use of energy weapons.”  Seeing the looks on the two mercenary leaders’ faces, he continued.  “Yes, I know energy weapons are restricted in the Antevas System--but you are not IN the Antevas System.  You will drill the citizens in any weapons suited to their size.”
“Also tactics,” rumbled the Usarin.  “Rogannan’s report said that those of the Frontier Guard were lacking.  Any camp needs to know its own layout and how to defend itself.”
“One last thing,” said Rissa.  “Try to keep Federation eyes off what you’re doing.  They’re certain to find out about this latest battle, and openly arming our citizens to the teeth will surely make ears swivel and noses twitch.  We don’t need President Gant’s glare setting our fur ablaze.  And do NOT antagonize the Blood Way any more than you need to.  I foresee you crossing blades again in the future, perhaps to the destruction of their side or yours, but for now, don’t force the battle.  Concentrate on defence for now.”
“We will be glad to serve,” said Lyral.
The OverKings nodded in approval.  “Rogannan will tell you what he needs from you,” said Shor-Ghan.  “As for the capture of Gaish, we’ll be patient.”
Captain Tarika
Tachi Koma, above Nevra in the Thranos System
Stardate 2006.24
"That wasn't part of the contract," Tarika said over the comm system, keeping her voice hard and forceful. Standing in front of her chair on the bridge helped, even though it was only audio. "It's going to cost you."
"Alright, Captain," the voice on the other end said with just as much authority. "How much?"
"A pallet of the cargo," she said without hesitation. Gaish had said the cargo was advanced drone technology stolen from Minos; a planet whose inhabitants had destroyed themselves with it. Apparently, from what she can tell from her meeting with Gaish, the advanced tech left behind in the ruins was worth a lot to someone. Or everyone.
"Do you know what is in those pallets?" The voice asked suspiciously.
Tarika could obviously tell it was a test. "Of course not. But the fact we are a stone's throw away from Minos, and the amount of money I'm being paid to be sure this shipment reaches its destination, it must be some tech that has tremendous value. And I want a piece of it."
"If I lock myself into one of the pallets, you would not charge us more?" The voice came back with almost a sneer.
"No, I wouldn't. But I should inform you that our cargo bay is usually depressurized during warp to conserve power on the oxygenators for the cloaking device." Tarika smiled at her holopilot who was giving her a look of amusement. "The contract did not indicate the cargo needed any specific type of environmental settings. Which means, it doesn't need an atmosphere."
Nearly a minute passed before they were heard from again. "One crate."
Now the bargaining began. Without knowing how much one crate actually held, she had to nearly negotiate blindly. But it didn't matter, she just wanted some of that interesting cargo. "Six crates." She countered.
"Three crates."
"Four crates, and I will have my hospitality holo-program at your disposal for the duration of the trip."
This time the pause was longer, but the decision finally came. "Agreed, then. Prepare to beam up twelve pallets and one passenger. Sending coordinates now."
"Got it. Stand by." Tarika cut communications and gestured to Lennier.  "Decloak the ship and transport the cargo into Bay 1. Apply cargo protocol 4 Alpha. Then transport the passenger here. I want the ship to watch our passenger at all times."
Her special cargo protocols were different methods of securing different types of cargo aboard ship. Four Alpha meant to put up the standard isolating forcefield around it with a scattering field to hide the contents and to block any transmissions going in or out in case anyone's attempt to sabotage, or an external source attempted to scan its contents. And all of Tachi Koma's holo programs would keep an eye on their passenger.
"That would be a good first assignment for Chani." Marcus suggested.
"And I'll check the transporter filters for any anomalies during transport on both," Lennier said. 
Tarika smiled. Her holo crew knew the protocols on safeguarding the ship when taking on cargo, including vetting all passengers. A minute later, he verified that transport was complete while she confirmed it by watching the video feed of the cargo bay floating above the arm of her chair console. Then the passenger was transported directly to her bridge.
"I am Captain Tarika."
The human male dressed in nondescript clothes acknowledged her rank by giving her just a nod in greeting. "You may call me Seraph."
Lennier gave Tarika a hand signal. She took a few steps towards him. "I will require you to relinquish your weapons during your stay with us. I will return them to you when you depart." She gestured to the Cardassian disruptor in its holster by his side and the Starfleet personal phaser hidden in his boot.
"But you are armed, Captain," he gestured to her two holstered weapons.
"My ship, my rules." Tarika shot back, her hand kept close to one of her own sidearms showing the positioning of them was for a quickdraw. He gave her a hard look before holding them out on either side of him. Zhaan walked up from behind him as silent as the billowing of her thin blue robe and took the weapons from him.
"Alright. Are we ready to be under way, Mr. Seraph?" She asked, gesturing to a spare chair that was behind where Zhaan usually 'sat'.
"Best speed possible, Captain," Seraph said, not taking the seat offered to him.
Tarika sat down at her chair and sent the new coordinates to Marcus, who immediately calculated their best course. In less than a minute, he cloaked the ship and took it to warp. The lighting scheme on the bridge's trim turned purple indicating they were in power conservation mode to accommodate the energy needs of the cloaking device.
"How long to get to the rendezvous?" he asked.
"Forty seven hours. If no problems arise."
"Is that the fastest? This cargo is desperately needed." The hawk-like shape of his face turned sharply into a glare as he talked.
Tarika studied the man for a moment before responding to his question. "Do you know where the Septimus System is?" She swiped the map into the air above her chair and enlarged it. The Septimus System was a pulsating red dot. "It's deep in to Cardassian Space; on the border with the Breen. For the straightest course, we need to cross the width of the Federation, go through part of the Tzenkethi Coalition, go around the Badlands, skirt the Rolor Nebula, and into Breen space before we can cross the border into Cardassian Space. I would rather not go by Cardassia Prime or anywhere near Deep Space Nine if I can help it. We also need to stay away from any spatial anomalies or stellar areas that could penetrate our cloak. This course I've plotted will get you and your cargo there in one piece and without detection. Would you like me to alter that course and increase our chances of not reaching the destination if you say this cargo is as important as you make it out to be?"
"How much time can you save by going through instead of around the Badlands?" He asked, studying the map.
Tarika looked over to Marcus. "I'd say about thirteen hours."
"The plasma storms in there will render our cloaking device inoperable," Tarika added.
The man didn't bat an eye and just glared at her. "Through the Badlands, Captain. That will cut our trip down to thirty four hours. And here," he pointed to a cluster their course had gone around. "The Ingathi Cluster, I can pilot us through that and save another eleven hours."
Marcus changed their estimated plotted course and gave her a nod. It could be done. The Ingathi Cluster was more difficult to navigate than the Badlands with pockets of plasma suddenly erupting with almost no warning. Could she risk letting this man pilot her ship through it? After all, his life was on the line too.
"That will cut our trip down to what, about twenty three hours?" The man gave her a knowing grin.
"It's all of our lives, Mr. Seraph. If you can pilot this ship safely through the Ingathi Cluster, I'll get us through the Badlands," Tarika said with a straight face. She turned away from the man and decided that she didn't like him one bit. "For the time being, my hospitality program will take you to your quarters. She will tend to your needs and keep you entertained until we reach the Cluster. Lennier, activate Chani."
Chani appeared in front of Seraph. "Greetings, my name is Chani, your hospitality guide for the duration of your stay. I have many forms of entertainment to offer to you. If you would follow me, I will show you to your quarters."
Seraph went quietly to his quarters. He required nothing from the hospitality guide. Once in his cabin, he laid down on the bunk and rested until they reached their destination…
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 6: Revelations ==
Commander Mayla Vree
Engineering, USS Resurrection enroute to subspace relay station 7134
Stardate 2006.24
Mayla walked into Engineering to find a chaos of activity.
She couldn't believe the change from orderly, neat, and tidy from the last time she was just here, into a workshop looking of cadets struggling to build their first gel pak controlled plasma distribution manifold in their Optronics Systems Engineering class at the Academy. She immediately stepped aside to let the door close before any of the senior staff who might just be walking by sees the mess that became their engineering space.
In fact, it really looked like they were trying to develop some type of bio-neural gel pak system to control the generation and streaming of the radiation into a manifold. It took her a few moments to identify the different pieces of machinery and cables and terminals set up all over the catwalk overlooking the coaxial drive. She sincerely hoped all of this didn't affect any of the ship's existing systems. They were going to need it to get to Ty’Gokor.
She opened a channel to Thompson. "Lieutenant Thompson, where are you?"
A hand popped up from behind a temporary cabinet to house what looked like a short row of four bio-neural gel paks. "Here, Commander."
Mayla deftly stepped over parts and cables to get to his position. "You didn't take these gel paks from the Resurrection's systems, did you?"
Thompson gave her a frown and gestured to Ensign Wong on the other end of the catwalk who had his uniform partially unbuttoned and hair was mussed up. "Wong!" Thompson yelled to him.
Wong's eyes refocused from heavy concentration to whom was calling for him. Then he saw Mayla standing there. He immediately stood up and fixed his uniform noticing a signal Thompson was giving him by pointing at his collar.
"Commander, I didn't know you were here."
"I was asking Lieutenant Thompson whether or not you pulled these gel paks from the Resurrection's systems." Mayla said sternly. "Once they're exposed to the radiation, they're no longer useable."
"No, ma'am. I pulled them from storage. And yes, we know the consequences after we use them."
"And you cleared this with Commander Carmichael?" She asked.
"It was his idea. They were the only way to send control signals to the manifold fast enough to-"
"Very well, then," Mayla said with a slight relief. Lazarus would not be happy if the Resurrection needed them and they didn't have any more in storage. She looked around at their set up even the Optronics instructor at the Academy would scoff at. "Miles O'Brien would have some choice words with you about this mess," she said lightly referring to the Optronics instructor.
"He would definitely say 'Bloody 'ell!" Wong mimicked perfectly with the accent.
"What's your status?" She said coming back to the reason she was here. She could see the other various members of the Madcaps scurrying around. "We should be at the relay in about an hour."
Lt. Daryl Thompson
USS Resurrection, Engineering
Stardate 2006.26
Daryl jumped up from behind the cabinet he was working and grabbed a cloth lying nearby to clean his hands a little. “We are having some trouble with the graviton beam. But that should be fixed soon, when Wong is ready with this…” Daryl looked back and forth, “...thing.” he concluded. 
He looked at Mayla, who gazed right through him “soon, as within half an hour” Daryl continued, with a smirk on his face. “Filling up the secondary expansion vats with the omicron radiation particles takes about 15 minutes. That should be enough to flood the relay station with enough radiation." He jumped over the manifolds on the ground and walked around the console to prepare the rerouting of the radiation through cargo transporter into the replicator vats on the relay station. The vats had to be purged first before the omicron particles could be transported in.
“Done. At least, as far as we can prepare,” Daryl addressed Mayla. “I’ll have a look at Wong, see if I can help.” 
Mayla nodded “Dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Liral D’Hronarin
Hunter Ship Rha’ara’an’s Peak
Stardate 2006.26
Once the message was sent, Liral contacted Lyral on the ground.  Then he turned to T’Aayla and company.  “I need to return to Kazis IX to help prepare the bones,” he said to the three agents.  “And those on the ground could probably use an extra shaman to help comfort the dead and those left behind.”  He looked at Reepchip meaningfully.
“And, with my commander’s permission, I still want to talk to Myaral,” responded Ryramorl.  “I just hope my nephew is still alive, otherwise this could be difficult.”
“Proceed,” Raillius said.
As Raha’ara’an’s Peak’s shuttle was still planetside, they beamed down, right where the battle had taken place.  Several mercenaries lay dead, but it was clear the Carnora had gotten the worst of it.  Many lay on the ground, still clutching broken spears and shattered shields, or near ballistic firearms.  More than one lay not far from the mercenaries they’d managed to kill.  Almost a dozen Horghenhar--considered a symbol of strength and fear amongst the Carnora--lay dead, their armor and size having proven meaningless against the weaponry of the Blood Way.  The air was filled with the groans and yowls of the wounded--some sporting injuries that would take the medical care of more advanced civilizations to truly heal.
In the carnage, T’Aayla saw the true weakness of the Carnora:  Yes, they looked fierce, were physically capable and imposing--but their anachronistic technology and tactics had utterly betrayed them in this battle, had probably betrayed them before, and would likely betray them again unless they embraced more advanced means of combat.
As soon as Liral materialized, he was told that he and Lyral had been summoned to the Guard Headquarters to speak to Shor-Ghan, who’d received the report from Chief Guard Rogannan Mana’ar.
Ryramorl gave a roar of relief as he saw his nephew tending to the wounded.  The place was now swarming with medics and clerics, and Reepchip joined with those who had the vital task of tending to the dead.
Not far away was Myaral, holding a deceased Ataran whom T’Aayla could tell was not fully grown.  Myaral cut his finger with a claw and smeared the blood over the youngster’s chest.  When his task was done, he came over to Ryramorl.  “That one had no family, and no-one to administer any death rites, so I adopted him into my clan,” he said.  
“Almost makes the question of Holding a Name seem trivial,” said Ryramorl.
“Almost,” said Myaral, “but a name cannot be unheld for too long.”  He gestured to T’Aayla and Ryramorl, and withdrew to a quieter position.
With Ryramorl translating, Myaral said, “You must be on the same Hunt as he, why would he be with you otherwise?”  At the look on T’Aayla’s face, Ryramorl explained that Myaral was standing beside him when he got the summons.  “So, I ask both of you,” continued Myaral, “How long?  Will he be home before the next Passing?  Or will the Sentinel go from House to House in his absence?”--a phrase Ryramorl explained as describing several years going by.
T’Aayla shook her head, “Honestly, I have no idea. He is here at his own will and that of admirals Sorvek and MacLeod. I don’t make that determination.”
Myaral grunted in understanding.  “Very well.”  He looked into Ryramorl’s eyes for a moment, then spoke again.  “I have made my decision.  First Elder Name Ryramorl in the La’an Tribe of Ra’yral, my son will Hold your name.”
Ryramorl bared his throat, and the two brothers rubbed faces.  Myaral looked to T’Aayla.  “Give my greetings to the Warlord of the Skies beyond the Skies Holder of the Name Ian in the Conner tribe of MacLeod, and let him know I hope to see him again.”  This Ryramorl translated directly, then explained his dialect of Olvern had no word for Admiral and this was Myaral’s best guess at Ian MacLeod’s full name, even assuming Ian had the honour of being the actual Holder of his name.
While they spoke, Reepchip was kept busy.  He found himself struggling to remember the proper funeral prayers for the Usarin--he’d almost never used them before.  It was almost as bad as those of the Atarans--who (it was rumoured) had a language for every island and a dialect for every village.  The hardest, though, was for a household of Murans.  The fathers had gone out to defend their warren; not one remained alive.  Too many times he had to say the name “Charatetetet”.
Admiral Ian MacLeod 
USS Fearless
Stardate 2006.26
MacLeod was immersed in reading over the data commanders Alantris and Preet had gathered on President Gant. The more he read, the more convinced he was becoming that something was not right with the president and his dealings. So, as he read the PADDs full of information, he was surprised when the bridge chimed his desk communicator.
“Admiral,” Lt. Underhill reported from the bridge. MacLeod looked up and tapped the comm-unit keypad. 
“Go ahead, lieutenant,” MacLeod said.
“We’ve picked up an odd transmission,” Underhill said. “You might want to come have a look.”
The admiral scowled and stood, straightening his uniform before heading out the door. He stepped onto the bridge of Fearless and headed over to the communication station. Lt. Teresa Underhill, a young, bubbly blonde, worked diligently over the holographic display and brought up streams data that appeared to be gibberish.
“What is it, lieutenant?” MacLeod asked, standing behind her.
“This transmission came in a single burst, sent from the Kazis system,” she said. “It’s rather strange.”
MacLeod looked at the data as it streamed on the holographic display and he suddenly laughed, “It’s strange because it's Carnoric.”
“Carnoric?” she asked, a baffled look on her face. “Shouldn’t we be able to decrypt that?” 
“You would think,” he grinned. “That’s what happens when a species achieves warp capabilities before they have the other details all worked out. Carnoric communications are primitive, they use unusual encryption. Bloody hell, I should have thought of this before...we could have used Carnoric communications all along.”
As he mentally beat himself for not thinking of this before, he leaned in closer and studied the incoming text. Underhill looked up at him and her brow furrowed. “You understand this? I’m fluent in a number of forms of communication, but Carnoric is very difficult.”
MacLeod smiled, “I have been dealing with the Carnora off and on for the past 20 years. I’ve talked to members of their military, their leadership -- I was forced to learn a great deal about them in that time. I can read this.”
“They sent it in a burst transmission, directed specifically into this region of space and they purposely avoided bouncing it off any Federation relays,” Underhill explained. 
“That’s because they knew Fearless was in this region of space and because we have advanced communications equipment,” he said. “Bloody genius. Question is will Resurrection be able to pick up the same signal? And with no Carnora aboard currently, will they be able to understand it?”
The lieutenant looked to MacLeod eagerly, “So, what does it say?”
MacLeod read the message, his expression becoming one of disbelief. THen, as he pulled up the two attached images of the men Gaish had described, a chill ran down his spine. “Bloody hell!” 
“Sir?” Underhill asked.
“Transfer this to the War Room, send no response,” he ordered, turning toward the turbolift. “Good work, lieutenant.”
As he got on the lift, Underhill sighed and said, “You did all the work, sir. But thanks.”
A short time later, MacLeod walked into the War Room and Preet and Alantris had the message pulled up on the screen there.
As he walked in, MacLeod seemed very on edge and excited at the same time. “It’s a Carnora message, sent by Commander Raillius. Her team has interrogated Gaish. He has identified one of the men in the two artist renderings as Archangel.”
Alantris pulled the image up with the swipe of a hand across the holographic board and popped it out into a larger image over to the right side of the holo-screen. She looked at the rendering and gasped, “What? But….how?”
MacLeod nodded, biting his lower lip for a moment, “I don’t bloody know, Xena. But I’m looking at a ghost...a bloody ghost.”
Preet looked at the image, “He looks familiar.”
“That’s because it looks like Commander Jack Dark,” Alantris chimed in. She looked at MacLeod. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
MacLeod nodded as Preet raised an eyebrow, “Dark? Wasn’t he the captain of the Repulse? Wasn’t he an Intelligence Officer for Shadow Operations?”
“He was,” MacLeod muttered. 
“But he’s…” she continued.
“Dead...yes. Or so we were led to believe,” MacLeod said in a dour voice. “He died on the Kazis mission, eight years ago. He died saving….”
“President Gant,” Alantris gasped. “The nanotechnology...this explains a lot.”
“And leaves plenty of questions,” he said. “We’ve got to figure out a way to contact the rest of Shadow Operations.”
“Shouldn’t we tell Starfleet Command?” Preet asked.
MacLeod laughed, “And tell them what? We ‘think’ the president of the Federation is actually a dead Shadow Ops agent. We need more than a description given by a Ferengi gunrunner.”
“What do we do now?” Alantris asked.
“We’ll set course for OpsBase One, we know Sorvek is there,” MacLeod said. “We’re going to have to figure out how we’re going to expose Gant...Dark...so that we’re believed.”
Alantris nodded, “I’ll get us underway.”
MacLeod sighed, “I’ve considered this possibility a couple times, but never thought it was possible.”
Preet placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled, “That’s why you should always go with your gut, sir.”
The admiral bristled slightly and shook his head, “Bloody hell.”
Captain Quentin Lazarus
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2006.26
Lazarus was on the bridge when Lt. Commander Darva McGuire looked up from her post at tactical with a look of surprise, “Captain, we’re picking up a transmission in Carnoric. It is coming from the Kazis system.”
Lazarus swiveled in his chair toward the security chief, “Carnoric? Kazis? It can only be our people.”
“Problem is this transmission in some kind of Carnoric code, we don’t have the information we need to decipher it,” Darva muttered.  “And our Carnora are off the ship.”
“They’re the ones sending it, most likely,” Lazarus said, then adding, “Open a shipwide channel.”
“Channel open,” McGuire said.
“Lazarus to Mapcaps,” he said.
“Lt. Corhees here,” came the reply.
“Mr. Corhees,” the captain said. “Carnoric encryption, can any of you decipher it?”
There was a pause, then Corhees responded, “Sure...Reepchip taught us a lot about Carnoric communications.”
“Good,” he said. “Ten minutes in the War Room. Commander Vree, please join us.”
Ten minutes later, Daven was in the war room with Lazerus and Vree, deciphering the message from Kazis IX. As he did, he explained to his superiors what he was dealing with.
"Well, you can rest assured you have one of the best communication systems the Federation has to offer,” he said as he tapped some controls, watching the information intently.  “Otherwise you’d have never picked this up at all.  I’ve only seen anything like the Carnora’s communication technology in articles on technological history--there are other races that have tried this method of sending signals, but like the vacuum tubes of the 20th century on Earth, it was found to be a dead-end technology and abandoned after about a decade at most. For some reason, the Carnora never did and tried to perfect it instead, though you’d have to ask Reepchip why…  I think it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know what subspace really was…  Though they did find a way to create a communications network for telepaths…  Ah!  Here we go!” he said, pressing a final few controls as the message coalesced.  “Sorry it took me so long. Even if you can receive their messages, Carnoric transmissions are…  counterintuitive.”
Lazarus and Vree read the message sent by Raillius and the Carnora from Kazis. Lazarus’ face was a grim mask as he took into the information and viewed the artist renderings the team had sent based on Gaish’s experiences with the man called Archangel.
“Jack Dark? Seriously?” Lazarus balked. “Just when I thought I’d seen the height of betrayals with Admiral Jaegar. And for eight years we thought this guy was dead.”
He shook his head, “We need to get to that relay and figure out how to get rid of these nanites.”
Daven could feel the shock from Lazarus.  He himself didn’t know who this Jack Dark was, but he could tell he now knew something so monumental that he couldn’t even reveal it to the other Madcaps.
Captain Tarika
Tachi Koma, enroute to Cardassian Space
Stardate 2006.26
The trip across an outer arm of the Ingathi Cluster was wrought with angry debates and frustration as Seraph took the Tachi Koma through evasive maneuvers for nearly 5 hours straight without break. It was as if he was desperate to get to his destination as quickly as possible. That singular focus prompted maneuvers the nimble Tachi Koma took with stride as it was built as an advanced scout ship. He pushed the ship closer and closer to its design limits each time they avoided a suddenly appearing plasma pocket or tornado.
But they made it with only minor damages. Lennier started working right away on the repairs. As soon as they were in clear space, Seraph surrendered the helm and promptly retired to his quarters to rest.
Tarika reviewed their flight and sensor logs through the cluster and couldn't help but to nod with satisfaction. The man was an excellent pilot, considering he'd never helmed the Tachi Koma before. For the next few hours, she helped Lennier with various repairs. When they were an hour away from the Badlands, Tarika decided it was time to collect her fee for having to carry the passenger not on the manifest. 
Chani woke Seraph and they now stood with Tarika and Lennier just outside the door to the cargo bay as atmosphere was temporarily pumped into it to make this exchange the human was so against. When the door console gave the all clear signal, Lennier opened the door and they were looking down a row in between the twelve pallets of cargo arranged in a 3x4 square. Each pallet was a five meter square, each with its own lock. It was clear Seraph wasn't happy with the arrangement, but he had to pay for his passage as was agreed.
Tarika walked down the aisle in between the row on the right and randomly chose a pallet. It was only prudent for her to select the pallet she would want her crates taken from. Letting Seraph decide would be naive. "This one."
The man walked over without a word and placed his hand on the lock console. Not only did the console scan his hand print, it also scanned his biosigns and retina before a lock could be heard unlocking. He walked over to another console below and spoke softly to it. One large panel of the pallet opened like a doorway. He walked inside and brought out four crates one at a time and placed them in front of the pallet. Then he closed and locked up the pallet once more.
"Four crates, as agreed."
Tarika gestured to Lennier to inspect each crate. Each one was a meter square. He opened each one to show various components of...something, meticulously packed well and protected.
"What is it?" Lennier asked.
"Prototype military drone."
"From Minos?" Tarika asked, taking a few steps forward to look for herself.
"Parts of it," he said, almost with a hint of glee in his voice. "Entirely autonomous, with offensive, surveillance, and defensive weaponry capabilities. Dominion houdini cloaking technology was added to increase their effectiveness. They are nearly impossible to detect, but cannot move while cloaked. Because of its modular design, it can be outfitted with any type of tech. It's adaptability is far more advanced than anything anyone has."
"That's impressive," Lennier said, feigning astonishment.
"It is," Tarika said. She knew better than to ask who was receiving this cargo considering the Cardassian Eleventh Order was headquartered on Septimus III of the same system they were headed. "How much is it on the black market?"
"Ten of these could probably buy your ship." He sneered. "So you can understand why it was difficult to relinquish four of them to you."
Tarika gave him a sweet smile. "I appreciate your generosity. I'll see if I can get us through the Badlands any faster."
"You do that, Captain." Seraph did not respond with a smile.
Lt. Cody Beckett & Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
Relnok Nor, Krido Rit’s place
Stardate 2006.26
In the split second he had, Cody’s mind raced. They only had 2 options…. Trying to lie and bluff their way out or take action and fight their way out. The latter would make it more difficult to get to the nanotech, however, Cody assumed Rit would be more cooperative with a phaser against his head. In the end, most Cardassians weren’t that heroic. This Rit seemed no exception. Cody exhaled deeply. Over subvoc he addressed Tiri, who seemed a little anxious “Relax, stay in your role for now, you are doing great…but, be prepared to cloak…” Cody said over the subvoc. 
Tiri cleared her throat, and spoke, clearly agitated by Rit’s accusations. “Your client is wrong. I don’t know where he gets this nonsense. If he doesn’t want to sell his precious nanotech, fine. But trying to pull this off, is quite obnoxious. You said you checked us out, and all seemed fair and legit. And suddenly, everything is different because one of your customers says so ? “
Rit smiled. “You are both very on edge. I ask a simple question and you immediately jump to a negative conclusion.”
The Cardassian sighed and took another drink of kanar. “I have known Archangel for some time. In the beginning our association was very cordial. We became friends and he was very generous in helping me launch and sustain a very lucrative business. Do you realize that much of the nanotechnology he has helped me develop serves to heal sick people? It does good as much as it does bad.
“I have used his tech to aid many of my own brothers and sisters who suffered from injuries sustained in the war. When the Federation would only provide minimal help, I was there to provide my fellow Cardassians with life-saving medical nanotechnology. Archangel helped me get his nanites into refugee camps after the Dominion destroyed the Cardassian Union. We helped save people.
“But now, Archangel has changed,” Rit said, his voice saddening. “He is hellbent on a quest to destroy the governments of the quadrant. He says life would be better without the Federation, the Klingon Empire, the Romulan Empire. ‘Let them all die’, he said to me once. Even the rebuilt Cardassian Union. He would see it destroyed as well.
“I am no fool. As much as I could benefit from a lawless quadrant, there are certain boundaries, certain protections and safeguards governments provide, even people like me,” said the Cardassian with a grin. “My friend is no longer my friend. He uses me like he uses the people in his Legion. And all I see at the end of his little outburst, his attempt to create some kind of anarchist utopia, is more death, more destruction and an opportunity for people and organizations far worse than the Federation and its foes and allies to come to power and hurt people like me. To hurt and subjugate billions of people.
“So, after careful consideration, I have seen the benefits of cooperation,” said Krido Rit. “I provide you with whatever information your require…even a sample of my goods, and you leave with guarantees I will be left out of whatever fate befalls Archangel and his followers.”
The Cardassian raised his glass to the pair, “Do we have a deal?”
Tiri was surprised after hearing Rit’s long dissertation. She considered trying to press on as Cody had suggested, maintaining their cover, or maybe she should see what they could do as far as an agreement.
Rit was a small fish to fry in comparison to Archangel and his group. Certainly, Rit may have done some good with his black-market tech, but she was certain he was leaving out the part about how much damage he’d caused.
“Can my associate and I have a moment alone to confer?” Sh’avelith asked.
Rit smiled, “Of course. Take all the time you need. However, as a token of good faith, let me tell you that Archangel has dispatched his nearest cell and they are on the way here. He seemed rather intent on putting an end to your investigation. I’d say you have about 10 minutes until we have company.”
Rit got up and walked away, leaving them in the room alone. Once he was gone, Tiri looked to Cody, “Can we offer him anything? I mean, personally I guess we could let him go if he gives us information. We can’t speak for Shadow Ops or Starfleet. If they decide to come back here after him, that’s out of our control.”
“You are right. We can’t promise anything about his safety in this matter. “Cody said. “Yet, I don’t trust him, but we don’t have much else. He is to eager if you ask me. Let’s agree on his deal, get the samples and get the hell out of here, I would say. “I’ll contact Ibragimov-”
“This is Yevgeni” the Russian piped in over the encoded channel. “5 warp signatures just appeared on my sensors. They are closing in on Relnok Nor on maximum warp. ETA just a few minutes. Do you need help?” 
Cody raised an eyebrow “Our cover is sort of blown, I think. We yet need to make the deal, but Rit is willing to do so” Cody answered. “Make sure the Venomous is ready to leave the moment we are onboard. Legion is onto to our tail. It could get hot when those ships arrive. For now, be on standby. We try to get the samples and get out of here. Hope we can do so before the Legion troops arrive. “
“Understood. Yevgeni out”  
He looked at Tiri. “Let’s get this thing over with. I don’t feel taking on several teams of Legion with the three of us. “ 
Tiri nodded. She cleared her throat “Mr. Rit ?” 
Rit seemed to materialize out of the dark corner of the room, likely stepping back into the holographic construction of his Badlands base of operations from an Arch somewhere in the holodeck. 
He smiled as he approached the young Andorian and took her hand affectionately as he stepped up to her, “You’ve decided?”
“We can ensure our investigation will leave you unaccosted at this time,” Tiri said. “However, when it’s over I can’t promise Starfleet won’t come looking for you. At this moment, we have bigger fish to fry.”
Rit smiled at the analogy. “A bigger fish, eh? There’s always a bigger fish. Yes, I would certainly like to avoid any immediate difficulties with your Starfleet...so I am willing to offer my cooperation.”
He handed her a small box. “Don’t open it here...it needs to be opened in an environment that can contain the nanite, but there are samples of both varieties your Archangel commissioned me to build. There is also an isolinear chip inside the box, contained within a sealed foil packet to avoid nanite infection. The chip contains all of Archangel’s research going back to his early days with me, back when I knew him as someone else.”
Tiri raised an eyebrow and glanced to Cody, “Someone else?”
Krido Rit looked at the two Shadow operatives and considered his response, carefully. “He has been known to me the past eight years as Archangel. That is the name he insisted upon using, though I have known him much longer.
“He used to be called Jack Dark. He was like you, Starfleet special operations, and he was a very unique person. He came to me when I first got into this business and asked me to help him produce customized nanites. Seems he can control them with his mind, a telekinetic ability of some kind likely passed on from his father, who was an unknown alien species. His mother was Risan...a prostitute he once told me. He never knew his father, but inherited his abilities. Jack can control nanites, use them in ways I never thought possible. Because of our...his...research I was able to develop this very sophisticated nanotechnology. 
“But something happened eight years ago. He was different,” Rit said. “Though he never told me directly, my own sources told me he had supposedly been killed in combat...yet he was still alive, visiting me twice a year with upgrades and ideas for improved nanites. He talked very little about what he was doing, but said to call him Archangel. He began spouting these crazy ideas of revolution and anarchy. He was going to change the galaxy…”
Rit shook his head, “I just made the nanites, profited from his work and let him go off on his crusade the change the galaxy. No governments...no laws...absurd ideas. I couldn’t get through to him.”
“So now you’re betraying him?” Cody asked.
“He’s done this to himself. I’m not going to be caught up in his plot,” the Cardassian snarled. “He has been a friend, but there is friendship and there is business. I’m not going to let his wild ideas get me thrown in prison...or worse. So you tell your Starfleet I cooperated! I gave you everything you need to bury him and his Legion. I just want to be left alone.”
Tiri snatched the box from Rit, “Fine. Thanks for your time and cooperation, Gul Rit.”
Rit nodded and reached to a bracer on his wrist, pressing a button there. He was immediately enveloped in a swirl of light as he was beamed off Relnok Nor.
At about the same moment, five Peregrine-class light assault ships dropped from warp outside Relnok Nor. The ships, commonly known as Maquis Raiders 25 years ago, were all refitted with new weapons, armor and technology and were each manned with 10 Legion crew members.
“We have company!” Yevgeni reported over the sub-vocal communicator. A blast suddenly rocked his ship. “Yevgeni had to raise shields. But he will get you out!”
At that moment, Legion fighters began to beam aboard Relnok Nor…
Yevgeni Ibragimov
SS Venomous
Stardate 2007.01
Ibragimov flew across the cockpit of Venomous and he brought up the holographic displays, his hands flying over the tactical board to bring shields and weapons online. Two Peregrine-class ship made toward his ship while three more flew in over the Cardassian station.
“We have company!” Yevgeni sent a transmission to the away team. A blast suddenly rocked his ship. “Yevgeni had to raise shields. But he will get you out!”
He would need to destroy or get away from these Maquis-style Raiders and then try to get to a location where he could lock onto and transport Beckett and Sh’avelith out. He returned fire from the ship’s phaser array and brought the ship around to try and fly around the attacking Legion ships.
Ibragimov pounded the enemy ships with phaser fire as he flew off across the upper pylons of Relnok Nor. The Raiders returned fire, pursuing the Venomous as it maneuvered around the station. He was waiting for a chance to drop the shields, beam the team aboard and set course back to the Federation.
But in order to do that, he’d have to deal with the Raiders before they dealt with him.
Lt. Cody Beckett & Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
Relnok Nor
Stardate 2007.02
Cody looked around the room they were in. The bodyguards at the door had disappeared as well. He was looking for weapons. Legion would be here any moment now. At the entrance stood a rather large crate. Cody dashed towards it and opened it. The phasers they had to hand over where there, as well as several other types of weapons. On the bottom there were a few larger weapons, amont them a few rifles. Cody grabbed the phaser and the rifles and checked their batterypacks. Most packs where filled up around two-third of their max capacity. That was at least something. Now they had to find some cover. They had to stand their ground until Yevgeni was able to beam them out…
The room was sparsely filled with furniture. There wasn’t much to take cover behind here. Cody opened the entrance door and peeked outside. It was silent. “What’s the plan” Tiri asked, as she followed him. “We should make our way to the Promenade, and from there to one  of the docking pylons. If Legion sets up scattering fields to block transporter beams, the pylons are still our best chance. “Affirmitive” Tiri replied. As they made their way to the Promenade, it certainly looked like an abandoned space station. The dim lit corridor’s and the absence of people walking around gave them an eerie feeling. Apparently, most people had hid themselves as they by now had figured out that there would be a standout of sorts. Cody carefully walked forward towards the turbolift. “Yevgeni, can you give us a sensor feed of the station ? We need to find out where the Legion soldiers, so we aren’t ambushed”. 
It stayed silent, but within seconds, Cody received data from the Venomous’ sensor system. 
Cody grimaced. He hoped the Venomous was equipped to take it up against several Peregrine fighters. If that was not the case…. he pushed away that thought and focused on the sensory data providing an overlay which showed the Legion soldier’s location. Most signatures were at the Promenade. There about 20 of them. A few other signatures strode around in other parts of the station, apparently looking for them…Cody continued his way to the turbolift. Then he stopped in his tracks. “If we can dish up their location, I’m sure they can do the same.” If we move via the turbolift to the Promenade, we will be welcomed with LOTS of phaser and disruptor fire I’m afraid. Any ideas?”
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 7: Making Progress ==
Captain Tarika
Tachi Koma, rendezvous point in Septimus System
Cardassian Space
Stardate 2007.04
"Tell Seraph that we're almost at the coordinates," Tarika said as if to no one, or everyone.
The trip was uneventful. Seraph kept to himself in his quarters most of the time with Chani standing outside to answer at his beck and call. Her logs showed he accessed the computer a few times, showing what queries he entered and information he viewed. The entire interior of the ship was outfitted with holographic emitters so Lennier, as the ship's engineer, can access every part of the ship for repairs. So the logs also showed Seraph had run a few harmless holoprograms inside his quarters.
Tarika and Marcus had argued several times during the trip, debating on the best course to take to shave off as much time as they can to reach their destination. Every leg of the trip they debated about avoiding certain spatial anomalies, stellar bodies, shipping lanes, even a few ships that came into sensor range. But each leg of the trip, with a little nudging from the engines and choice paths, they were able to overall reduce their travel time by three hours. 
Going through the Badlands was the last major obstacle on their route. They entered on the Tzenkethi Coalition side, passed by the old Federation outpost Gamma 7, and exited at the border with Cardassian space. Now, with the rendezvous coordinates within long range sensors set in the shadow of a moon around Septimus 7, they dropped out of warp and continued the rest of the way on impulse power. They stayed cloaked to avoid any patrols the Cardassian Eleventh Order might have for the system even though the powerful sensors didn't detect anything.
"Passive sensors picking up a ship running in low power mode, Captain," Marcus said, with a little bit of sarcasm in his tone. The Tachi Koma's surveillance package was better than on most ships of the line and could have received the same readings even if the ship was on the other side of the star system. "She has a shallow profile; low sensor image."
Tarika brought up the sensors at her chair and looked at the silhouette of the ship. "A light freighter by the looks of it."
"It is, looks like an independent." Marcus said, slowing the ship down and making a minor course change to intercept.
"Or made to look like an independent. Keep alert." Tarika could see Lennier already correlating the passive scan data on the target and coming up with a possible tactical package to submit to the captain. She had been allowing Lennier to send her his plans for her to review as he himself was 'learning' strategy in tactical situations.
"Ah, they are already here waiting. Very good." Seraph said as he stepped up to the raised bridge. He handed Lennier a Cardassian data rod. "Send them this code key. It will identify me."
It didn't take more than a minute when they received a response as they came within transporter range. "Transporter coordinates received. Time for us to part ways, Mr. Seraph." Tarika gestured to Zhaan who returned his weapons to him.
Seraph didn't give any response but to just wait for transport. Tarika gave the order to decloak the ship and Lennier activated the transporter. In a few seconds, the man and his cargo were off the ship.
"Cloak the ship and evasive Crazy Ivan. Set course for Simperia, around the Dark Matter Nebula, then to Federation space." She ordered without hesitation. She had already mapped out a different course home in case that freighter performed any sort of double cross thinking they would just turn around and head back the way they came. It may be paranoia, but precautions in this sort of business are what keeps you and your ship in one piece.
"Sweep the ship for trackers and stray transmissions on our way home. I don't want to find out Mr. Seraph left any gifts without telling us." Tarika looked at Lennier and Zhaan. "Have Chani do the sweep with you. I want her to learn the subtle aspects of the ship."
Both holoprograms bowed slightly and derezzed from the Bridge. She sat down in the center chair and took a last look at the Septimus System. The trip back to Kazis IX would be faster since they didn't need to use the cloaking device once they entered Federation space and not have to skirt around DS9. So they took the straightest path using the Federation's fast travel shipping lanes primarily used by freighters and cargo haulers. There were various markers 'laned' throughout the Federation to effect unobstructive travel usually used by freight haulers. But anyone can use them to get from one far point in the Federation to another without having to plot a manual course to their destination. Using the shipping lanes, they should get back to Kazis IX much faster than it took them to get to Cardassian space.
Commander Mayla Vree
Bridge, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.04
Mayla afforded herself a smile as the ambient sounds and voices on the Bridge lulled her into a focus she felt very comfortable with. With the memories and experiences of two lifetimes  of being at the helm of a ship, it was easy for her to fall into the role of helmsman again even though she hadn't used that specialty often as Echo Team leader when she was part of Bravo Platoon.
Of course the Resurrection's helmsman, a Bajoran by the name of Lieutenant Commander Revu, stood by and kept a close watch. He had been slightly hesitant in allowing her to helm the ship on their way to the relay station. After she expertly reconfigured the helm panel, he began to relax. It was clear to him this was someone who knew what she was doing in that seat. And Captain Lazarus didn't seem to mind. He actually sounded like he welcomed it, which didn't sit well with Revu.
"Captain, we're approaching the subspace relay," Mayla announced. She looked over to Revu to indicate he should take back the helm.
Without comment he did and reconfigured the panels while Mayla headed to the back of the bridge to a secondary panel. She quickly configured the panels to monitor the sensors, cloaking device, engineering, propulsion, tactical map, and scans of the relay station. 
"Bring us to a slow orbit. Are we ready Lieutenant Thompson?" He said into the comm to Engineering. "Do we need to be in a specific position?"
Lt. Daryl Thompson
USS Resurrection, Engineering
Stardate 2007.06
Daryl nodded with satisfaction. Wong had managed to stabilize the graviton beam and the secondary expansion vats had been purged and filled with omicron particles generated from the M/AM reaction. Everything looked stable, so far. Now it was time to connect the vats with the cargo transporter buffer and the transporter with the replicator system. The replicator system needed some additional modifications and safety overrides, as it was normally forbidden to transport particles. Daryl checked once more, before he initiated the process to have the particles flow towards the cargo transporter. 
“Are we ready, Lieutenant Thompson?” Lazarus’ voice sounded. “Do we need to be in a specific position?” 
“Not really,“ Daryl answered. “It’s a default transport. But I first need to be able to hack into the relay, assuming the nanobots have changed the access codes,” he said, while his hands made gestures into the virtual display in front of him. 
He had to be careful. It was quite possible the nanites that had infected the relay, had created several countermeasures to protect the system from accessing or even actively protected by infecting remote systems that tried to connect with hostile AI or code. 
As Daryl probed the system passively, he thought of something else. It was also possible, the infected relay had some kind of heartbeat line between them, so if one system was disabled, the system on the other side of the heartbeat line would alarm Legion that there was a problem. “Bridge, I need a full spectrum sweep of the relay. It is quite possible these nanites are advanced enough to build up a heartbeat network between them. In case a node goes down, the others can alert Legion. We need to prevent this, at least until we purge the relay. Assuming they monitor the nodes one way or another, they will find out soon enough this node isn’t anymore under their control. “ 
“Affirmative, Lieutenant,” Lazarus spoke. “Commander McGuire is already onto it.”
“Thank you, Captain. Thompson, out.”
Daryl accessed the sensor logs and found the datablob of the current full spectrum sweep. He quickly set up a routine to parse through it and ran it. Within seconds, several items from the log were highlighted in red. 
Daryl nodded, “Exactly what I thought.” He had to be careful to hack this system without alarming the nanites or the possible security routines that would keep an eye on the integrity of the system AND make sure the Resurrection’s systems weren’t infected by any potentially dangerous code from the relay itself. Quickly, he set up an isolated, fenced perimeter within the Resurrection’s computer core, populated with a dozen or so AI routines  to keep track of I/O and ready to cut off access if needed and isolate any threat coming through the relay’s connection. He made a first attempt to access the relay. He had already scanned the whole relay’s computer systems and concluded it would be best to enter the relay in the way regular maintenance would be done, namely through the default access console. The nanites would be aware of him, but would keep silent not to be discovered, as long as nothing out of the ordinary (from a maintenance point of view) would happen.  
“Accessing relay now,” he said, as he had opened a channel to the bridge. The procedure to access the relay’s maintenance console went without hassle. 
Daryl started the diagnostics self-test of the system. In the meantime, he uploaded a new version of the system’s wetware, as if he was indeed a maintenance engineer, upgrading the system with a newer code version. The ‘newer version’, of course, was Daryl’s own suite of tools to hijack the system and to take control of the relay. 
The nanites would sooner or later find out, so he had to work quickly. Once the system was hijacked, he probably only had 1 to 2 minutes to transport the particles into the replicator’s matter storage and meanwhile keep the nanites out of the system. Then he could flood the relay station with the omicron particles, disabling the nanites.
Captain Quentin Lazarus
Lt. Commander Tommy Carmichael
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.06
Lazarus stood behind Thompson as he worked his magic. The captain said nothing, just took in how quickly Daryl was hacking the relay, amazed at the man’s talent. He smiled, maybe this was going to work after all.
He glanced over to another station nearby in engineering and looked at Commander Carmichael who was monitoring Thompson’s progress. The engineer looked to Lazarus and the two made eye contact. Lazarus’ questioning look was received by Tommy, who gave him a slow nod. Thompson was doing well.
The captain resumed watching Thompson work, hoping this would be a successful attempt to purge the relay of the nanites.
After a short time passed, Daryl studied the readouts and realized success: “I’m in,” he reported.
Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
Yevgeni Ibragimov
Lt. Cody Beckett
Relnok Nor
Stardate 2007.06
Beckett and Sh’avelith were running along the vacant promenade of Relnok Nor when six figures materialized on the deck just ahead of them. As they took form from the transport, it revealed six humanoids dressed in black armor, wearing helmets with built in masks.
“Twelve o’clock!” Tiri blurted out before diving behind an empty kiosk in the promenade where minutes earlier a merchant was selling odds and ends merchandise. Beckett also sought cover just as the half dozen Legion soldiers opened fire, phaser fire pounded all around the two Shadow operatives.
Tiri, her phaser drawn, whirled out from behind cover and fired a couple of blasts at the attackers, her shots slamming into a black-clad warrior, sending him sprawling lifeless to the deck. A couple of Legion fighters also sought cover along the promenade and continued shooting at the spot where the Andorian was hiding.
Beckett was behind a support column which held the upper deck surrounding the promenade. He fired on the Legion squad and managed a kill, despite the heavy armament and armor of the attackers. The remaining four Legion thugs kept their attacks up, barraging the two Shadow Ops officer with phaser fire, keeping them pinned down.
“Yevgeni!” Tiri barked into the sub-vocal communicator. Behind them four more Legion members transported in, and the pair was now cornered between the two squads. “Now would be a great time to get us out of here!”
“Yevgeni is working on it, Ms. Tiri!” Ibragimov said gruffly. “Hold on!”
Beckett turned around, prepping the Romulan disruptor rifle. He aimed and fired a volley towards the four incoming Legion troopers. One was instantly vapourized, the second was hit in his torso and slammed onto the deck, screaming, as parts of his body where eaten away by the disruptor energy. The other 2 concentrated fire on Becket’s location, and he dove away from the support column, sliding behind a small kiosk of sorts. Phaser fire slammed all around, and 2 bolts hit Beckett in his leg and his side. The protective personal shield took the brunt of the hits, but the sheer force of the impact made Beckett slide further and sprawl across the floor. He cursed inwardly and rolled further over the floor, covering behind a few large crates. Beckett panted, and focused for a few moments, then he peeked around the crate to check the situation. It was getting hot. He got up and fired a volley, but the troops kept closing in relentlessly.
Meanwhile, the Venomous finished destroying one of the Peregrine-class ships and he looped under the super-structure of Relnok Nor. He heard Tiri’s pleas for help but was doing all he could to keep the ship from being hammered by phaser fire.
With the destruction of one of his two attackers, Yevgeni had some of the heat removed from his backside. He swooped under the station and brought the ship to full stop before pivoting and aiming in the direction the other pursuing Peregrine would be coming from.
Like clockwork, the Raider appeared from around the station’s docking ring and right into Venomous’ field of fire. Yevgeni locked onto the Raider and fired a full burst of phaser fire from the forward arrays before unleashing a couple of photon torpedoes. The hail of fire slammed the approaching Raider, ripping through its shields and sending the damaged Peregrine-class fighter into a spin.
“Locking on!” Ibragimov declared as he dropped his shields and located the pair with the transporter. He locked on and energized, beaming Tiri and Cody out. He watched the Raider come out of the spin, trailing plasma from one of its nacelles, and swing back around to engage him.
As soon as the two Shadow operatives transported aboard, he threw the shields back up and gunned the engine to get away from Relnok Nor…
The three Legion ships that did not at first engage the Venomous were not hot on the Russian’s heels as he high-tailed it away from Relnok Nor. The Legion ships hammered the Venomous as she sped away, Yevgeni returning fire at the enemy ships until he was finally able to go to warp. 
Chief Guard Rogannan Mana’ar
Liral and Lyral D’Hronarin
Agent Rygaran D’Hronarin
Kazis IX
Stardate 2007.07
Liral and Lyral met with the Chief Guard in their own headquarters. The two mercenary leaders had owned up to their role in the attack, and would help prevent another one. “K’vada is no fool.  Should he be ordered to attack again, he will not send his forces piecemeal like he did last time,” said Rogannan.  “He will come in force and utterly overrun the place. We need better weapons--but where can we get them?  Gaish will surely no longer do business with you.”
“Laran Skyy gave us contact to a Romulan dealer she’s dealt with in the past.  We’ll get in contact with him, and let him know what we need.”  The group sat down and worked out what they would ask for--better armour, energy weapons, including those small enough to be used by Muran as well as large enough to be used by Usarin. They discussed having mounted heavy guns carried on the backs of the Horghenhar, as well as specialized armour for them as well.  Liral put together a thorough list on his PADD as they talked.
The next time the Blood Way came calling, the Carnora would be ready.
General Krang
Sera
Brig/USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.07
Ensign Dan Walker was on the security detail for the day, his primary job besides keeping an eye on the prisoners, was to deliver them their lunch. At 1200 hours, Walker stepped out of the security office attached to the two-cell brig with a tray in his hands with two plates on it – both containing food for the prisoners.
Standing at the doorway from the security office was Ensign Zel, a Bolian, who was ready just in case someone tried something.
In their cells, Sera sat on her bunk reading a book that was beamed from the holographic projector on the bulkhead in front of the Andorian so she could read. Across from Sera, in the other cell, General Krang sat on his bunk staring at the floor…as he had been doing for most of the day.
Walker, a young blond-headed security officer, two months out of the academy before being assigned to Resurrection, looked at the prisoners and gave a wide smile. 
“Lunch time you two,” he said in a sarcastically sweet tone. “Andorian flat root and some hot Katheka for the lady. And for you, general, Rokeg Blood Pie and a hot raktajino!”
Walker set the tray on a shelf that extended from the wall outside Sera’s cell and he picked up the plate and carried it to the door. He pressed the button on the keypad outside the door and the forcefield to Sera’s cell dropped.
Once it was safe to enter, Walker stepped inside and set Sera’s plate and drink on the floor. She looked up from the novel and studied the plate there on a mat placed on the floor. “Replicators do not make good Andorian flat root.”
Walker looked at her and shrugged, “Sorry, it’s the best we can do.”
“The blood pie is awful!” Krang sneered from across the corridor. “The Federation and it’s love of technology. I am fortunate you did not try to give me that slop you call gagh! You cannot replicate something as exquisite as live gagh!”
The security officer frowned and turned, “Shut up old man! I’m sick of your constant babble!”
Krang stood up and approached the cell door, the forcefield still going strong. “I will not be silent, Starfleet!  I grow weary of this cage!”
He slammed his fists against the forcefield and the shock made him stumble backwards a little, further invoking his growing rage. 
“Stay away from the cell door, Krang,” Zel said calmly from the security office doorway.
The Klingon struck the forcefield again, again getting knocked backwards. He stood up to the barrier and glared through it at the Resurrection officers. “I demand to be released! This is an outrage! My handover to the Klingon Empire has been usurped by a bunch of rogue Starfleet officers! This is outrageous! I demand to see your captain!”
Walker sighed and turned around inside Seraph’s cell to glare across the corridor at Krang, “Look! I told you to shut up!”
Zel placed his hand on the butt of his phaser, “Walker! Pay attention! Don’t turn your back…”
Krang roared in a fit of rage and slammed himself against the forcefield, this time causing it to spark back at him, the jolt propelling him backwards, where he stumbled and fell, clutching his chest. The old Klingon gasped then fell landing hard on the floor of his cell. 
Walker’s eyes suddenly grew wide and he dashed from Sera’s cell as Krang convulsed on the deck.
“Call the med bay!” Walker shouted at Zel as he stepped into the corridor and reached for the keypad to Krang’s cell. “Krang’s down!”
“Dammit kid! Watch out!” Zel was reaching to tap his comm-badge, but everything happened so quickly. He saw Sera vault from the bunk where she sat and come at Walker from behind. Instinctively he reached for his phaser rather than tapping the comm-badge.
Seraph jumped directly behind Walker, grabbing him around the neck, yanking him backwards, but not before he’d made the couple steps from Sera’s cell to Krang’s and touched the keypad, opening the forcefield on the Klingon’s cell. 
A moment later, as Zel moved into the corridor with his phaser drawn, Sera yanked Walker back and Krang, who was not suffering from a heart attack after all, sprang to his feet with a nimbleness no one would have expected from the old Klingon.
He lunged from where he lay on the floor and rushed into the corridor as Zel appeared with the phaser. Krang grabbed the security officer by his arm, pushing the phaser aside, and with his free hand seized the Bolian by the throat.  
Krang knocked the weapon from the Bolian’s hand and slammed him against the bulkhead, applying all of his considerable strength to Zel’s neck. Meanwhile, in the other cell, Sera struggled with Walker until she finally was able to give his head a harsh twist, snapping his neck.
As she dropped the body and made her way into the corridor, she arrived in time to watch Zel’s eyes roll back in his head, his throat making a cracking sound. He then took his final breath, his body going limp in Krang’s hands. 
Krang finished choking Zel to death and smirked, “Too easy.” He then dropped him into a heap on the deck.
As Krang savored his kill, Sera snagged up the dropped phaser, preferring to wield the weapon instead of letting Krang get his hands on it. When the Klingon realized she had the weapon, he frowned, “The one called Walker has no weapon!”
“Because he was the one in the cells with us,” Sera retorted. She went over and checked the door, opening it into the security office. Currently, there was no one else there. Usually only two security officers were on duty at any given time to keep an eye on the prisoners. They looked around and found all the phasers were secure in a locker. 
“Blast it open!” Krang hissed. 
Sera shook her head, “The shot would be detected by internal sensors. We’d have the rest of the security team down here in no time flat.”
“I need a weapon!” Krang insisted.
Sera smirked, “You’re a Klingon…fight with your bare hands. What exactly do you propose we do?”
“We need to take this ship,” Krang hissed. “Or, at the very least, we get a message to my people so they can find us.”
Sera nodded. The escape attempt made little sense to her, there was no way they’d get off this ship, let alone a plan to overtake it. But sitting in a cell waiting to go back to Earth to stand trial, and without a doubt then receiving prison time, was sounding less and less tolerable. 
There was a chance they could steal a shuttlecraft and get away – thus allowing Sera to return Krang to his people and assuring her return to Legion without any question of her loyalty. 
She went over to a replicator and had a uniform produced there that would fit her, then she began to undress causing Krang to give her a look of disbelief, “What in the name of Kahless are you doing?”
“There’s an Andorian in their group. Maybe the crew will mistake me for her if I’m escorting you. Not much of the crew has seen me since I was brought aboard, I’ve spent most of my time in that cell.”
Krang turned away from the Andorian, allowing her privacy to change. He looked around for some kind of weapon and found nothing available in the office that would suffice. When he turned back around, Sera was dressed in a black and red Starfleet uniform. She then retrieved a comm-badge from one of the dead security officers.
The Andorian found some restraints on the desk and turned to Krang. “Let me put these on you.”
The Klingon growled, “That is not necessary.”
“I’ll leave them unlocked, but you need to appear to be a prisoner,” she told him. Reluctantly he turned around and let her put the cuffs on him, but he was pleased when he found they were loose.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“We’re going to find the shuttlebay,” she said, calling up a schematic of the Resurrection. “We’ll take it and try to get away. If nothing else, maybe we can get out a transmission there.”
Krang grunted and together they headed out the door, into the corridor outside. From there they would take a turbolift down and through a couple of compartments until they reached the shuttlebay.
Commander Mayla Vree
Bridge, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.09
Something flashed on one of the monitor screens at Mayla's console. It was a sensor reading that should not appear on anyone's sensors.
"Captain, Krang's viridium tracker is outside of the dampening field!" she called out immediately. She quickly opened a channel to the brig hoping for a response and at the same time bringing up the surveillance video of the office anc cells.
"Shipwide security alert!" Lazarus glanced quickly at Jahkar who was about to sprint for the door. "Apprehend them quickly before they get a hold of communications." They couldn't lock down communications while Thompson was still working on the relay.
"Hold, Jahkar," she said. Mayla already had the internal sensor on her screen showing that there was another lifeform moving with Krang's. With only a glance at the brig office video, she saw that the Andorian Sera had also escaped. "Looks like they might be headed for the shuttle bay. We're transporting straight there in their path."  She stood up and tossed her phaser to Jahkar. "I suggest shutting out access to any communications from any panel on the ship, Captain."
"Already on it, Commander," Sornax said from his console. "I'll start setting up forcefields to trap them."
Mayla drew her pulse pistol before giving him a salute and beamed out.
Colonel Jahkar
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.13
Mayla and Jahkar rematerialized in the corridor outside the hangar bay. Both Shadow operatives found themselves less than 10 meters from Sera and Krang, who were coming their way. Krang pulled loose the fake binders and darted into an alcove while Sera broke into a sprint and came at the pair.
Jahkar fired on the attacking Andorian, but she was fast and evasive, dropping her phaser and managing to drop and slide across the floor, dodging his shot and flying directly into his legs. As Jahkar was knocked backwards, his phaser slipped from his grasp.
As Jahkar and Sera began to pummel each other on the floor, Krang reached out and grabbed the dropped phaser from the floor before bringing it up to shoot at Mayla…
Commander Mayla Vree
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.13
When the Andorian named Sera slid towards Jahkar, Mayla already had a bead on Krang and fired with her pulse pistol twice in succession. The magnetically accelerated projectile left the barrel at a high velocity she had already calculated the distance and millisecond travel time to its target.
Just as Krang grabbed the phaser, he suddenly lost his grip of it as it flew from his hand. At the same time, something pierced all the way through his thigh, just above the knee, that caused him to stumble for a moment. When he looked up, Mayla had already crossed the distance between them as a forcefield went up behind her, separating them from Sera and Jahkar. He pushed aside the pain in his leg and let out a roar as he recognized this trill woman from his cell on the Invincible. The recognition made his Klingon blood boil as he lunged to make a grab at her, but she leaped over his hunched form.
In the air, she holstered her weapon and landed in a roll. Krang whirled around onto his feet and charged her, preparing to kill her with his bare hands. She ducked beneath his reach and delivered a punch to the puncture wound she had already given him. That caused his leg to give away again and he crumpled to the ground with a grunt through his sharp gritted teeth. Mayla slowed her momentum enough to make a half turn to wrap her forearm around the Klingon's neck before he got a chance to regain his footing. With surprising strength from a person with such a small stature, she heaved him from the neck lock over her and threw him up against the bulkhead. The sound of him striking the wall and then the ground didn't distract her from quickly picking up the fallen phaser. She tapped the setting to stun and pointed it at him with a dead steady hand.
"Bagtag!" He shook his head and let out a howl of frustration and anger only a Klingon could fittingly express. He got up onto his feet and glared at her. "I will not be taken alive."
"I don't care," she responded coldly and activated the phaser.
Krang fought against the stun beam all the way to the ground, where he slumped into unconsciousness. She looked over to Jahkar and Sera who were both still squaring off with each other. With the forcefield in place, they were separated. And she knew Jahkar could take care of himself. Resurrection security appeared behind her as they finally caught up with them.
"Computer, activate EMHT," she said as she gestured to the security officers to hold their position. The emergency medical holographic team appeared and quickly tended to Krang's wounds. She turned to Resurrection's security team. "Double the guard, and don't underestimate this man again," she said firmly. She tapped her comm badge. "Vree to Bridge, Krang is secured."
Colonel Jahkar
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.14
Jahkar jumped to his feet, throwing Sera off him. The nimble ex-Starfleet Intelligence agent landed on her feet, almost catlike in her response, and she came at him with a series of punches and kicks, which he blocked and defended from with several counter-moves. 
Jahkar saw his opening and he ducked low under one of her swings and drove a powerful punch into her solar plexus. 
As a child he remembered being unwilling to hit a girl who often struck and kicked him until one day, when he came home with a black eye, his mother asked him why he did not fight back. “Because it was a girl who hit me,” he admitted. 
His mother knelt in front of him, took him by both shoulders, and looked him square in the eyes. “Do not let the bully hide behind her gender,” his mother said sternly. “If she wants to hit you like another boy would, hit her back like she was also a boy.” So Jahkar did. The bullying stopped.
He often recalled this when he was faced with a female opponent. They could be just as deadly, if not more, than a male opponent. 
His punch drove the wind from Sera’ lungs, propelling her backwards. He then moved in and attempted to punch her in the face, but the Andorian recovered and dodged the attack, ramming a knee hard into his gut before connecting with a mean uppercut that connected with his jaw. The half-Klingon groaned as he staggered back, but the pain in his jaw just pushed on his rage.
Jahkar kicked the woman in the chest then followed up with a spinning back fist that caught the Andorian in the mouth, sending blood spilling from a split lip. She stumbled, legs a little wobbly, before shaking off the punch. As Jahkar moved in to punch her again, she caught his arm in mid-punch, wrenched it down and used her own leg to try and sweep his legs out from under him. 
The Klingon-Romulan avoided her leg, slammed a punch in her face and sent her reeling to the deck. He approached, intent on placing a knee into her back before moving to subdue her, but Sera rolled to the side and evaded Jahkar, spinning around behind his kneeling form and catching him around the neck with a chokehold.
“I’m...not...going….to prison!” she hissed as she struggled to lock her arm around his neck and cut off his oxygen and blood supply to the brain. Unfortunately for Sera, Jahkar was still a powerhouse at 45 and managed to lunge to his feet, carrying her up with him. He then swung his body forward, flinging her from his back and launching her into the bulkhead, where she struck her head hard and collapsed to the deck in a heap.
Jahkar grabbed up the dropped phaser and tapped his comm-badge. “The prisoner Sera is down.  She may require assistance.”
Captain Quentin Lazarus
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.14
Lazarus heard the reports from Jahkar and Mayla and gritted his teeth, especially after Commander McGuire reported the deaths of her security officers, Walker and Zel. He looked to Thompson, who had just announced he had access to the relay.
“Proceed, Mr. Thompson,” said Lazarus. “Carmichael, monitor his progress and stand ready to aid him as needed.”
“Aye sir,” Tommy replied, turning to his station in engineering.
“Come on…this has to work,” the captain muttered under his breath, hoping to put an end to Legion’s control of Starfleet’s communications grid…
[Back to top]
== S2, E3, Act 8: Treachery and Murder ==
Commander Mayla Vree
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.14
The forcefields in the corridor dissipated and security swarmed in. Jahkar walked up to her and handed over her phaser.
"A killer streak that one has," he said as they stepped aside to let the two subdued prisoners be carried away.
She ran a hand through her short hair to put it back into some semblance of neatness befitting her uniform. "She was once part of Starfleet Intelligence. So you could pretty much say the same for some of us."
"It seems like we're fighting our own people." Jahkar said with exasperation befitting a full blooded Klingon. "I like to think we are better armed than the enemy. FIghting people trained the same way we were makes us no different than they."
"They kill for an ideal they believe in and their own sense of duty. Aren't we doing the same?" Mayla said as she watched the crew clean up the scene.
"We don't kill on a whim, Commander." Jahkar said boldly.
"If we were captured on that Klingon dreadnought and held captive a cell with an uncertain future, I have no doubt we would kill as many Klingons we need to try to escape, Colonel." Her tone was cold and unfeeling. Jahkar had never felt something like that coming from her before. "And once our two prisoners find out we didn't have a shuttle, they would have killed more people to try to get a comm message out. They already killed two in the brig." Mayla holstered and secured her weapons. "Besides, you had the easier opponent."
He looked down at her whose face still didn't change to indicate any signs of amusement or banter. It was as serious as he ever saw her. "What? She was a nimble thing, well trained."
"You could have killed her without detriment to the mission. I couldn't kill Krang, although it would have been easy since he wasn't armed nor wearing any armor."
"An unarmed klingon is still very hard to kill."
She continued to stare down the hall at their combatants. "I've killed a lot of Klingons, Jahkar." Then she walked away towards engineering to check on Thompson's progress.
Colonel Jahkar
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.16
Jahkar frowned. Maybe he had gotten a little soft. He’d nearly been overtaken by Sera in the brawl. Honestly, he thought it was imperative to keep her alive...but she had likely outlived her usefulness after being interrogated by Raillius back at Andoria.
He turned to walk away, and nearly ran into Chas’naH. She stood there with her arms folded, “Thanks for telling me my prisoner escaped.”
“There wasn’t time,” he said. “We stopped them. They weren’t going anywhere. They didn’t know the shuttlecraft was missing.”
“Krang unharmed?” she asked.
“Mayla took him down,” Jahkar shrugged. “He’s fine.”
“We need to hand him off to the Klingons,” she muttered. “It might cause a diplomatic issue with the Klingons if the Ghost Clan kills Lady Sirella.”
Jahkar frowned, “Once we’ve purged the communications grid of the Legion nanites, we should be able to make progress.”
“I hope you’re right,” Chas said as they headed back to the turbolift and up to the bridge.
Commander T’Aayla Raillius
Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral
Ensign Reepchip Charatetet
Liral and Lyral D’Hronarin
Chief Guard Rogannan Mana’ar
Kazis IX
Stardate 2007.16
By now the Rajaran district was abuzz with the news that the Carnora and the Blood Way had slugged it out, and while the Carnora had been the losers, the Blood Way hadn’t come out covered in glory.
A guard met with T’Aayla, Reepchip, and Ryramorl, saying they were wanted at the guardhouse for a meeting with the Chief Guard First Elder Name Rogannan in the Mrellar Tribe of the Mana’ar and Liral and Lyral D’Hronarin In The Danro Mountains.
Once the three arrived, Liral explained that he and his brother wanted to be formally introduced to the dealer Vanerat. The D’Hronarins would pay reparations to the Carnora Enclave by equipping everyone with weapons and training those people in their use--and the list he had showed items that would have to be specially made.
But then Rogannan revealed he, too, wanted to contact this arms dealer, for the same reason--Carnora weapons were simply too outdated.  While he would be content to work through the D’Hronarin brothers, he would prefer to be able to make purchases himself.
T’Aayla Raillius was growing impatient. She wanted to get them back to either the Resurrection or Ops Base One, somewhere they could relay all of their information and get involved in the mission once again. But instead they were stuck in the midst of further Carnoric negotiations. She deferred all matters of the Carnora to Ryramorl and Reepchip -- not wanting to put herself in the middle of their political intrigue.
Lt. Daryl Thompson
USS Resurrection, Engineering
Stardate 2007.18
Swiftly, Daryl uploaded the set of tools, disguised as an ‘upgrade’. It was kind of an old way to do this. Normally, these relays would get their updates through subspace in a fully automated way. Manual updates were seldom used. Daryl could only hope these nanites weren’t that sophisticated. So far, he hadn’t had any strange readings or neural routines trying to block him. Apparently, the nanites didn’t mind him so far. 
The toolset unpacked automatically once it was uploaded. “So far so good,” Daryl whispered to himself. 
The next moments were crucial. The ‘toolset’ would set up a shielded area within the memory of the computer core. The area would enclose the parts of the memory Daryl needed access to, as well as the connection to the Resurrection. That would probably be the moment the nanites would react. “Here goes nothing, Wong, keep an eye on those vats. “ Daryl said. 
It was as if the whole Resurrection held its breath...Daryl focused on the readings, ready to react once the toolset had done its job. In a split second, it was done. Daryl’s hands gestured through the holographic console, as logging poured in. Indeed, the nanites had reacted. They were already trying to divert power from the cores and memory Dayl had access to. But Daryl had foreseen this….the toolset had, on the background, set up several other areas, all interlinked and synced with the one Daryl had been working on. All data was available in parallel in all areas. 
The nanites shut down the first, but Daryl continued to work in one of the other areas. He felt beads of sweat on his forehead, trickling down. He ignored them while he continued gesturing, inputting commands towards the relay. But the nanites were on his tail. The toolset seemed to be blocked, and three of six areas had been shut down already. He was almost there. He already had gained access to the replicator and the transporter and was now configuring them so the transporter buffer would dump the omicron particles into the replicator matter storage directly.
“Wong, stand by for transport,” Daryl exclaimed.
“Ready when you are, sir!” Wong replied. Four out of six areas down. The few last commands .Daryl noticed that a lot of chatter was coming on one of the subspace bands. It was apparently the nanites trying to communicate to other relays that they were compromised. Daryl pressed his lips together as he entered the last few commands. 
“Wong, now,” he said, as he activated the replicator, which would throw out whatever was coming through the transporter into the matter storage of the replicator. Five out of six areas down…...The next seconds the relay was flooded with omicron particles. Daryl held his breath…for a few seconds nothing happened...but the sixth area didn’t go down. There were still aggressive AI routines trying to get through, but it seemed that the nanites went silent...Daryl noticed that several areas of the relay were rebooting. He quickly configured a spectral scan to see if the nanites were still active. More seconds ticked away, then the results poured in. All nanites seemed to be disabled. A big grin appeared on Daryl’s face, and he looked up to Wong.
“It worked!” he exclaimed. “It friggin’ worked!” Then he remembered Lazarus was still on deck and turned towards the Captain. “Sir, we seemed to be successful in eliminating the nanites in the relay.“ Lazarus nodded. He didn’t smile, but the look in his eyes was there: relief. Relief that there was finally a success in the war against Legion.
“Good work, Thompson. Good work.“ Lazarus nodded. Daryl exhaled. It had been a tense few moments. "Can you now cascade it to all of the subspace relays in the Federation?"
Daryl nodded. "The upgrade packet installer just needs to be deployed so each relay will see it as a mandatory upgrade and run the toolset autonomously." He gave Lazarus a smile. "Unless someone looks closely, no one will ever know something has been changed."
Lazarus walked over to him. "How long do you estimate it'll take to reach all the relays?"
Daryl gave it some thought. "Couple of hours?"
"Run the estimates and get back to me. We need to contact Ops Base as soon as we can when you're sure Legion won't intercept our transmission." Lazarus ordered and started for the door when it opened for Vree who was standing outside. "Come with me, Commander."
Commander Mayla Vree
Engineering, USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.17
"You shot Krang," Lazarus said as they headed to the Bridge. "You could have killed him."
"I could have." Mayla kept in step with him as the crew made room for them as they walked down the corridor. "But it'll take more than a projectile in the leg to kill a Klingon."
Lazarus took a deep breath and thought back to the same type of killer instinct her father had. Fast and efficient. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
"Took after my father. Remember those hirogen hunters he killed in the arena? No quarter, no mercy."
"That's not how we do things here, youngster." Lazarus said sternly.
"Where was mercy when those two security guards in the brig were killed? Or all those lives lost on the Invincible?" Anger rose in her voice. But she took a breath and let it out. "If we don't play by their rules, we lose."
"If we played by their rules, we'd be no better than them."
"Are we?" Mayla said. "Are we better than them? We've worked in the shadows long enough to know the type of 'rules' we play by. Seems to be the same set of rules, just a different empire."
Lazarus stared at her as if seeing a side he had hoped her lifetimes of experience had tempered her away from her genetic makeup. The Linea in her genes is what gave her that killer instinct, not her father. "You don't have to be a ruthless killer."
"That's what I was made for," she said flatly.
"You know better than to say something stupid like that," he almost yelled at her. "I know not having Ky around to guide you means you'll have to trust your own memories and lifetimes to deal with everyday life. But your memories transcend those you just 'inherited' from him."
Mayla remained silent as they continued their walk, with just the sounds of their footfalls between them.
"Come on, Mayla, talk to me." Lazarus said as they entered a turbolift.
The door closed behind them. As the lift began to move, Lazarus turned around and faced her, but she kept looking in the same direction they entered. "Is this all I'm going to do for the rest of my life? Mission after mission, delivering death in the name of Starfleet?"
"And all of those who live in the Federation." He added. Her father had the same concerns while he was in SO, and that was when he DID have a family to come home to. "You chose this assignment, and this way of life. Didn't you tell me when you asked me for a referral to join the Academy that you wanted to return a life back to the Starfleet that saved your life from that Cardassian prison?"
She kept a straight and emotionless face, but inside, she felt empty. With the pain of loss of her adopted mother and sister still in her heart, it'd been difficult to have anything to look forward to in the past seven years to fill that void.
"Starfleet Intelligence work is so...cold. I had a sense of family in Shadow Operations. Coming home from a mission was really coming home with family waiting. At least I knew Kyril was still here." She then rattled off the names of her childhood confidants who have been absent from her life for several years now; Jackson Bryce's daughter Nielle, her step brother Tylin, Jahkar's son Tajel and daughter Kedanya, and Kindred Dakota's son Zac, just to name a few. "I come back to Echo Base and all that's waiting for me is my next mission."
Lazarus nostalgically thought back to the names she brought up, and he himself hadn't been in contact with any of those people (or even their parents) either ever since retiring. But Mayla was still too young to already have these feelings of abandonment. He believed the root of these feelings led to her father's explained absence. He left her here alone. Hell, it seems he left everyone. All inquiries into his whereabouts still came back classified.
The turbolift stopped and the doors opened to the Bridge. He gave her one last look and tried to muster up some sort of advice, but what kind of advice could he give she hadn't already heard in the multiple lifetimes of memories and experiences she already had in her head? He put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be here for you."
That made Mayla give him an affectionate smile. "I know, Captain Rustbucket."
Lazarus harumphed and cleared his throat, hiding a growl in it as he stepped onto the Bridge. Mayla let out a deep breath before following.
Captain Quentin Lazarus
USS Resurrection
Stardate 2007.19
Lazarus crossed the bridge to his chair and took his place there, turning toward Commander McGuire at tactical. “As soon as Thompson reports the relays all clear I want you to get me USS Fearless and OpsBase One…the two Phoenix teams as well.”
McGuire nodded, “Aye sir.”
Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith
SS Venomous
Stardate 2007.19
Tiri exhaled loudly after Venomous went to warp. They were away from Relnok Nor and the Legion attack craft were also behind them. Yevgeni’s ship had a faster maximum warp than the Peregrine-class ships, so if they were pursuing, they would lose them in a short time.
The young Andorian looked back at Cody, “You OK?” she asked.
Cody nodded, “Yeah, I’m good. That was close.”
She nodded, “Very close.”
Ibragimov appeared coming from the cockpit of the ship and he had a happy look upon his face upon seeing the Shadow operatives. 
“For a minute I thought you left us behind,” Tiri told the Russian with a grin.
Yevgeni Ibragimov
SS Venomous
Stardate 2007.19
Ibragimov laughed, “They caught Yevgeni with pants down,” he chuckled, then adding. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”
He looked the two over, “No one injured, you got what you needed from Rit?”
Cody and Tiri nodded, “Information and the nanotechnology we needed. Can you take us to Ops Base One?”
Yevgeni gave her a nod, “If you can provide Yevgeni with coordinates?”
Tiri joined him in the ship’s cockpit and inputted the data so Yevgeni could set course for the Shadow Ops base…
Admiral Sorvek
OpsBase One
Stardate 2007.22
The USS Redoubtable dropped out of slipstream warp just outside the asteroid belt in the Argolis Cluster. Redoubtable held a position at all stop just beyond the asteroids and a short time later, a shuttle departed its hangar bay.
Aboard the shuttle, President Aaron Gant and a team of eight guards on his protection detail were seated in the aft compartment as the president engaged in a conversation with a holographic image of the Redoubtable’s captain, Talas Vukovic.
“Mr. President,” Vukovic pleaded. “This is highly irregular. Allow me to send over a security team. If you believe there are rogue elements of Starfleet Intelligence, this Shadow Operations, over on that asteroid base, let my people go there and deal with it.”
“This is a personal matter, Captain Vukovic,” said Gant. “Stay out of it.”
“But sir!” the captain exclaimed.
Gant ended the transmission. He then looked around at his team. Instead of being dressed in their standard Federation security uniforms, these men wore black combat armor and helmets, while carrying phaser rifles. The president was taking no chances.
“Mr. President,” the pilot called back from the cockpit of the shuttle. “OpsBase One is requesting to know our business here.”
“Tell them it’s presidential business,” Gant said coldly. “We’re coming aboard.”
There was a pause while the pilot responded, then he called back to Gant again, “Admiral Sorvek said he will greet you upon arrival.”
Gant nodded. He looked around at the team, “Sorvek is the one I want arrested. The others will be ordered by Admiral Zhao to begin shutting down the base and to await transport by another ship he’s sending. When we arrive, let me speak with Sorvek first, do not act unless they do something to provoke.”
“Yes sir,” the leader of the security detail said. The shuttle was now moving through the asteroid belt, approaching an asteroid that was visibly occupied with some sort of base. As they approached, a large white hangar door began to open and lights inside became visible.
The shuttle coasted into the bay and set down on the empty landing pad. Outside, Gant saw through a porthole Admiral Sorvek and one of his people waiting to greet the president.
Once the engines had shutdown, the main hatch opened and Gant sent two men out ahead of him as he followed, then with the rest of his detail following behind. They arrived in the hangar and approached the Vulcan and his aides.
“President Gant,” Sorvek said. “This is an unexpected surprise. I thought you were on your way to a conference on Galnar III.”
“It’s been postponed, Sorvek,” Gant replied.
“Allow me to introduce Lt. Commander Huotari,” Sorvek said, motioning to the Finnish Starfleet officer beside him. “He is currently base commander.”
Huotari stuck out his hand, but Gant ignored the gesture. “Sorvek, I require a word, in private.”
The Vulcan raised and eyebrow, “Your security detail seems rather well armed. Is there some sort of trouble we should be aware of?”
“In private, Sorvek, now,” Gant said through gritted teeth.
“Very well, Mr. Huotari, will you offer our guests some refreshments? The president and I have much to discuss,” Sorvek said. He then turned and led Gant, along with two of his bodyguards, into the station until they reached his office, where he led the president inside.
Gant told the guards to stay outside while he went inside to speak with the Vulcan. Once they were in the room, Sorvek stopped and stood with his back to Gant.
“You can drop the charade,” Sorvek said. “I am aware of your true identity…Captain Jack Dark.”
Gant paused a moment, his gaze on Sorvek as the Vulcan stood with his back to him, hands clasp behind him.
“I don’t know what…”
“Come now, Jack, you didn’t think you’d be able to keep this secret forever?” Sorvek asked, slowly turning to face him. “The clues all finally began to line up and our investigation turned over enough stones to get to the bottom of it.”
Gant stood glaring at Sorvek. After a moment, he reached back and touched the door, allowing Sorvek to witness a metal seal forming around the seams of the door panels which acted almost the same as a weld. After that, he stepped toward the Vulcan and his appearance began to shift and alter, morphing until the face of the former Shadow Ops agent, Jack Dark, appeared – looking somewhat older, but undeniably still the same man.
“Which one gave it away? Gaish or Rit?” Dark asked.
“Actually, it was you who provided me enough clues to draw that hypothesis,” Sorvek said. “It was Gaish who filled in the blanks, as I am sure the report from Rit will provide even more evidence when we receive it.”
Dark extended a hand toward Sorvek and a stream of nanites extended from the appendage and reached across the room to strike the Vulcan’s comm-badge, disintegrating it from where it was pinned on his chest.
Sorvek looked down as the slagged badge crumbled to the floor and he raised an eyebrow, “You wish to persist with this ruse, Mr. Dark? I don’t see how you logically believe you will be able to continue.”
“Because I am this close to changing the quadrant, Sorvek,” Jack said, holding up his thumb and forefinger to reveal a fraction of space. “This isn’t over yet.”
“My only question, Jack, is why?” Sorvek asked. “You were the first person recruited into Shadow Ops. I hand selected you nearly 25 years ago and invited you to our training program. You served with honor. You made a difference. All of this because of the failure of the Kazis mission?”
Dark’s anger suddenly flared and he got up into Sorvek’s face, “It wasn’t Kazis! That was the final straw…that was my opportunity. My team, my fiancé, my friends, died there and I looked at this man…Aaron Gant…and I saw someone who, maybe, could restore order to the galaxy.  He had potential, he was looked upon as the next president even then and I saw the chance to use that.”
“So, you killed him and took his place?” Sorvek asked bluntly.
“He was already dead,” Jack said. “He was killed on Repulse just before beam out. When the transporter engaged, I let his body go and assumed his identity.”
“Shapeshifting was never one of your abilities,” Sorvek said.
“I learned it while on my sabbatical,” Dark said, his tone becoming more dark and distant. “I learned a great many things while I was away. That’s when I realized the Federation was broken. Our ideals, our way of doing things, it was all wrong. All the governments of the quadrant…corrupt and power-hungry. I needed to bring them all down so good people would stop dying, fighting for their pathetic causes.”
Sorvek appeared unsettled, “I was not aware the Federation was a pathetic cause. I thought you valued the Federation and what it’s stands for.”
“It’s nothing like it once was,” he shook his head. “Even the way we handled the Romulan affair…”
“If I recall, in your Gant persona you were a councilman and running for president at the time that happened,” Sorvek said. “Yet, you did nothing.”
“My voice wasn’t heard. No voice of reason during that crisis was heard,” Dark hissed. “But now, when Legion is finished, the governments of this quadrant will crumble, and a new future will be born. They will finally LISTEN!”
“Unlikely,” Sorvek said. “In all likelihood, such a collapse would result in mass chaos, anarchy and would leave opportunities for warlords and other military powers to claim territory and seize power. Your plan and its execution are illogical. Legion’s failure at Andoria Prime is an example of this plans shortcomings.”
“Shadow Ops got in the way,” he muttered. “I couldn’t…couldn’t find it in me to do what I should have done then. I should have turned Thompson or killed him.”
“But you could not,” Sorvek said. “You could not because that is not the type of person you are, Jack.”
Dark snarled at the Vulcan, “Enough! You have no idea! Things will be different!”
“If you surrender now, I will make a case that you were adversely affected by your sabbatical, by your attempts to gain better control over your abilities,” Sorvek said, extending a hand to Dark. “Even your Legion colleagues can be offered some form of redemption. It is not too late.”
Sorvek was not certain, but he theorized Dark had somehow been adversely affected by his sabbatical where he attempted to seek knowledge and training from individuals with similar telepathic and telekinetic abilities. It was supposed to help him gain better control over his power, but if Sorvek was correct it had actually led to his undoing.
Jack looked at the Vulcan, then to his extended hand, and he scowled. “You are a good man, Sorvek, but I know you are blinded by the Federation. As is MacLeod, as are the rest of the Shadow Ops team. I am sorry, but I cannot stop what is coming. I’ve come too far.”
“Indeed,” Sorvek said. “I am sorry you feel this way, captain.”
Sorvek then lunged, trying to move into Jack with his extended hand now raised in an attempt at a Vulcan neck pinch on the half-Risan. But before Sorvek could grab him at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, Dark caught him in mid-stride and knocked him back.
The Vulcan reached to the back of his waistband and pulled a small phaser he had hidden there, bringing the weapon around to stun the former Shadow Ops agent. Before he could aim the weapon, Jack’s hand suddenly materialized into a shiny blade. Dark knocked Sorvek’s arm aside and he stepped into close to the Vulcan before he thrust the blade into the right side of the admiral’s abdomen, between the ribcage and the pelvis.
Instinctively, he’d gone for that spot, the place where a Vulcan’s heart was located. He had not wanted to kill the admiral, only wound him, but he was unable to stop himself from making that fatal attack.
The Vulcan gasped aloud and slumped, the phaser dropping from his hand as Dark caught him staggering back and held him up. Dark kept the blade firmly inserted into the admiral’s side and swung his body around behind Sorvek, letting the Shadow Ops leader collapse back against his chest.
Holding Sorvek up, Jack whispered into Sorvek’s ear as tears ran down his face, “I…I am sorry old friend. This was not how I wanted it to end.”
Sorvek gasp, his heart mortally wounded as green blood drained from his side. “You…are no…longer the man I considered…a friend…Jack Dark. You have…become…something else.”
“I know,” Dark muttered as he lowered Sorvek to the floor and withdrew the blade from his side, green blood pumping from the wound. Jack’s hand slowly coalescing back into an appendage. “Forgive me, admiral.”
Jack then released an invisible swarm of nanites into the room which began to infiltrate the computers and started to destroy anything that might contain records of Sorvek’s investigation. He went over to Sorvek’s desk and studied the PADDs collected there until suddenly a nanite scout reported its findings back to Dark.
Over the years Dark has come to be able to speak with the nanites he controlled, the communication something of a telepathic method. As he poured over the PADDs on the admiral’s desktop, a nanite alerted him it had discovered a data flow from the room to a vessel somewhere outside the base.
Jack whirled toward the body of Sorvek on the floor. As the last of his life drained from him, the Vulcan turned and looked at Dark, “Y-yes, all of our data on you and a…video stream of … our conversation…and your attack on me…was being…fed…to a Shadow Ops ship nearby.”
“NO!” Jack yelled as Sorvek closed his eyes and faded to blackness.
Somewhere in the asteroid belt, Matt O’Shaughnessey fought back to urge the return to OpsBase One and exact revenge on Jack Dark, but instead engaged the engines on the unnamed Shadow Ops mission ship Sorvek had given him. With the files of the investigation and the recording of Sorvek’s murder safely aboard, O’Shaughnessey took the cloaked ship and headed into space.
Dark contained his rage and restored his Aaron Gant disguise, the nanite field around his body giving him the face of the Federation president. On his way to the door, he converted the flow of nanites streaming back into his body into an object in his hand, making them form a traditional Vulcan ceremonial dagger. Kneeling briefly, he wiped the blade in Sorvek’s green blood and dropped it beside his body.
Dark then went to the door and ordered the nanite’s forming the seal around the exit to return to his body. Once the door was unlocked, he opened it and stepped outside.
“Quickly, the admiral attacked me!” Gant/Dark told the security officers. “He had a knife. We fought for it and I stabbed him. I think he’s dead!”
The guards came inside to check the Vulcan, one of them calling for a medical team while the others took Gant/Dark from the room and whisked him away toward the hangar. In the hangar, they boarded Gant’s shuttle and launched at the president’s order, leaving several members of his security detail behind.
On the way to Redoubtable, Gant turned from his chair and accounted for the team members present. There were four of his personal bodyguards, and once he’d considered which one’s were Legion and which were not, he turned to Lt. Westphall.
“Lieutenant,” he said. “We have an Omega-One priority situation. Please deal with it accordingly.”
Using the code phrase he’d given the three Legion operatives he’d gotten assigned to his security detail, Westphall carried out his orders. He drew his phaser, turned and shot the other three security officers.
Gant then dropped his disguise, the nanites forming the camouflaged appearance returning inside his body. He was Jack Dark again. Westphall recognized his true identity and nodded, “I take it you’ve been compromised?”
Dark nodded, “I will be, once they sort this all out. Let’s take the shuttle and head for the coordinates I am uploading to the computer,” he told Westphall as one of his nanites relayed the information directly to the ship’s computer.
“We’ll rendezvous with one of the Legion ships there and then I will go carry out the Reckoning,” he said calmly. “There is no other choice now.”
Westphall took the shuttle through a route in the asteroid belt which had it emerging on the other side, away from Redoubtable, and there it immediately went to warp.
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