Resurrection Episode 1.1.1

## S1, E1, Act 1: **New Orders**

*USS Fearless*

Kazis system, Near the Federation-Romulan-Klingon border

Stardate 0904.10

The lights on the bridge of the *USS Fearless* were dim as the ship sliced silently through the vacuum of the Kazis system under cloak, using impulse engines only. The Sovereign-class vessel was on course for the ninth planet in the system, located in a region of Federation space precariously close to both the Romulan and Klingon borders.

The proximity of this place to two major galactic powers, both known to have a volatile past with one another, and with the Federation, made it the ideal place for the three governments to convene a conference for its representatives to talk about improving relations. An outpost on Kazis IX had been converted by the Federation to serve as a conference center and 37 representatives of each power had been meeting for the past six days.

That was when everything had suddenly fallen apart.

The bridge crew of *Fearless* was silent as they listened to comm-chatter piped in across the intercom system, the various participants in the transmissions acting out an unfolding scenario. The crew carried out its tasks saying nothing, allowing the captain to hear what was happening over the hailing frequency.

Seated in the captain's chair, taking in every bit of the conversation, was Captain Ian Connor MacLeod. The stalwart commanding officer of the *Fearless* absorbed every bit of the back and forth communications between the team he had in the field on a mission to undo the situation on Kazis IX. Approximately 43 hours earlier, a group of terrorists penetrated the tight security at the conference site and had killed a number of representatives before taking the survivors hostage. The Klingons and Romulans were massing forces on their sides of the border, as Starfleet also gathered a fleet nearby. All three sides were ready to pounce on the terrorists, each ready to end the standoff and exact revenge on them for their vicious attack. It was a situation that could easily blow up into something far greater and deadlier.

That was where Shadow Operations came into the picture.

MacLeod had brought *Fearless* to Kazis to assist the *USS Repulse* in launching a commando operation to stop the terrorists and free the hostages. *Repulse* was under the command of Commander Jack Dark, one of the original Shadow Operations agents. More recently Dark had been in charge of intelligence for SO, but for this mission MacLeod had hastily pulled together a team and he couldn't be too choosey. On the bridge of *Fearless*, monitoring of Jack Dark's team on Kazis IX played on, the feed of comm-traffic between Dark and his operatives crackling across the bridge speakers.

"...Section 4 contained. Eight enemy KIAs. We have the hostages...there are 21 total," came the voice of Commander Taryn Kane.

"...Repulse team, regroup in Section 4. Prepare for transport," Jack Dark instructed his team. MacLeod opened a hailing frequency, "*Repulse* 1, who are the survivors?"

"...Twelve Federation council representatives, eight Romulans and one Klingon," Dark replied.

"...Only one Klingon?" the voice of Lt. Commander Sontag, on the surface of Kazis IX, crackled across the speaker.

"...Death was more honorable than capture," Dark responded.

MacLeod listened and considered their options. Repulse was cloaked and poised to extract the team. *Fearless* would act as backup, ready to deal with any enemy ships that may be lurking about. Problem was, there were no other ships in the system. This made MacLeod question just how the terrorist force had gotten there and how they were getting out. He expected they had something hidden, nearby, ready to strike the minute one of the two Shadow Operations ship's decloaked.

"Tactical?" MacLeod called.

Lt. Jason Savage at the tactical station looked over his screens. "All quiet, nothing out there."

"Nothing we can bloody see," MacLeod grumbled. "Stay ready to decloak and raise shields."

Under his breath he muttered, "Dammit Dark, get it done."

On the surface, Jack Dark and Commander Taryn Kane stood watch over the 21 survivors of the hostage situation *Repulse*'s team had just defused. They were assembled in a conference room while scattered on the floor around them were seven dead humans - all in unmarked military gear - gunned down in the firefight to free to hostages.

Dark was solemn. He knew there had been causalities. Not only among the hostages, but from his team. This mission had been slapped together on the fly, with all the other Shadow Ops teams deployed on other assignments, MacLeod had asked him to lead a group - half of them untested - to rescue these diplomats.

These missions. The constant task of deploying teams into hot-zones, it was getting to Jack. He had spent a year away from all this, on sabbatical, learning more about the telekinetic powers he possessed and looking for answers to his questions about his life and why he'd chosen this type of work.

He was good at it, no doubt. But Jack was no longer sure he could continue to see teammates die, or to fight for the wrong causes or to go on looking at everyone as an enemy. Even now, during a time of relative peace, the power brokers were making up reasons to fight.

Retirement was starting to become a real option for Jack Dark. If he could just convince Taryn to retire with him, he was ready to start a new life - one far from the war and the treachery of this business. He wanted peace, that was all, and it would take going far away, perhaps back to the temples of the distant world Sastarus IV, where he learned more about his TK abilities, or Betazed where he worked on obtaining better control over his powers.

Anywhere, as long as he was away from all this death.

Back from sweeping the perimeter was the rest of the team, led by the Vulcan, Lt. Commander Sontag. With him was Lt. Taylor Vermang, Lt. Daelin and Ensign Michael Falco. They brought with them two team members killed in the battle, Lt. Commander Antonio Ramirez and Ensign Talia Ward. Dark looked to the arriving team and grimaced when he saw the two dead officers. "How many hostiles did you encounter?"

Sontag, a greenish smear of blood across his face from a gash in his cheek, shook his head, "Twelve to fourteen. All heavily armed. Well trained. These were not a gang of thugs."

Jack nodded, "Agreed. Let's get out of here, before any more of these terrorists turn up."

A man from among the rescued hostages stood up and approached Dark. He was in his 40s, tall, with charismatic good looks, salt-and-pepper hair and he wore a suit. The Shadow Ops team leader accepted a hand-shake and looked to the man to see what he wanted.

"I'm Aaron Gant, of the Federation Council. I'm one of the Earth representatives," he said. "We wanted to thank you for..."

"There will be time for this later," Dark muttered. He then paused a moment, "Gant? You're the rising star on the Federation Council, I've heard of you."

Gant offered a humble smile, "I wouldn't go that far. I do what I can on the council. I just want to see that the foundation the Federation was built on continues to be upheld."

Dark nodded, "That's great. Now if you'll excuse us, we need to get you all out of here."

"Of course," Gant said, stepping back.

"Repulse ready to transport," Kane said.

Like clockwork, around them eight men materialized. All of them like the other terrorists, armed heavily and wearing black armor. Dark saw them beam in as he and his own team began their transport out. They must have come from a cloaked ship orbiting the planet. The gunmen trained weapons and fired as the *Repulse*'s team transported out with the 21 hostages.

On *Repulse*, the group beamed into the cargo bay where the only transporter large enough to transport 28 people was located. But as each pattern formed, it became apparent not everyone had survived the last ditch attack.

Sontag, Vermang and three of the hostages slumped to the deck, each struck by phaser blast just seconds before transport. Jack looked around at the dropping bodies and he cursed, moving to the nearest fallen comrade, Lt. Commander Sontag.

"Sontag!" he cried out, lifting his friend's head. "No!" It was obvious as he looked at the Vulcan his wound was fatal. Sontag had been killed instantly.

"Vermang's dead too," Kane said from nearby, kneeling over the body.

Gant looked knelt to see the condition of the hostages shot while transporting out and he shook his head. "They're dead!"

Jack got to his feet and ran out the cargo door into the ship, making his way swiftly for the bridge. As he ran, the *Repulse* was rocked by several blasts striking the hall. Something was attacking them, probably hitting them as soon as the cloak dropped to engage the transporters.

Aboard *Fearless*, warning klaxons sounded and Lt. Savage at tactical looked up from his station,

"Captain. Three heavily armed cruisers just decloaked near *Repulse*. They attacked right after *Repulse* lowered it's cloak for the extraction."

"Klingon or Romulan?" MacLeod asked, pulling up data on the armrest console beside him.

"Neither," Savage replied. "Two are Nausicaan design, the third is Ferengi. All three appear to be unmarked and equipped with weaponry not commonly used for their class."

MacLeod's brow furrowed, "Not to mention cloaking devices. They're bloody mercenary ships."

"Mercenary or terrorist," Savage corrected. "They've located the *Repulse* and are opening fire."

The battle appeared onscreen and the three enemy ships appeared pummeling *Repulse* with phaser fire, knocking out the ship's cloak and slamming her ablative armor hull.

"Intercept course, Mr. Lo-ree," the captain ordered his helmsman. "When we're are in firing range, lock on all three ships. Drop the cloak, raise shields and open fire."

Savage complied at tactical and within seconds, *Fearless* had decloaked and entered the fray. She pounded the trio of terrorist ships with salvo of phaser fire, followed by quantum torpedoes. The surprise attack by *Fearless* damaged two of the ships and forced two to break off pursuit of *Repulse* and turn their guns on MacLeod's ship.

The undamaged enemy ship, a Nausicaan attack cruiser, opened fire on *Fearless*, hammering the ship's shield with intense phaser fire. Meanwhile, one of the other ships, a Ferengi vessel, continued its pursuit of the *Repulse*.

Having caught *Repulse* with her shields down, the brutal terrorist strike had left the ship badly damaged. She limped away, trying to evade the Ferengi ship returning fire with everything it had left. "*Repulse* is badly damaged?" MacLeod asked.

Savage nodded, "All three ships hit *Repulse* when her shields dropped for the extraction. They knew right where to hit her."

"Bloody hell," MacLeod hissed. *Fearless* was rocked by phaser fire, but returned it, blasting the attacking ships.

"Incoming transmission from *Repulse*," Savage reported from his station.

"On screen," MacLeod said.

The screen focused in on the smoke filled bridge of the *Repulse*. Jack Dark sat in the captain's chair, still wearing his armor from the away mission on Kazis. Sparks flew from instruments around the bridge as Jack and his crew fought to return fire.

"Nice work Mr. Dark," MacLeod said. "As soon as we can dispense with these Nausicaan cruisers, we'll be able to turn our guns on the Ferengi Marauder."

"No time, captain," Dark responded. "They caught us with our pants down. They hit us hard in that opening volley. The ship is badly damaged. Our warp core is unstable."

MacLeod frowned, "If we can take down both these ships, we can drop shields and beam you all off *Repulse*."

Dark looked at MacLeod and shook his head, "We lost most of the team. Three more hostages are dead. We're running out of time fast."

MacLeod was about to respond, when the Marauder hit *Repulse* again. Plasma coolant sprayed across the *Repulse*'s bridge and more sparks arched from destroyed stations. The viewscreen flickered and then reverted back to the scene outside as the Nausicaan ship was bearing down on *Fearless* once more. Another explosion rocked the *Fearless* and the bridge crew steadied themselves.

"Hit, aft shields at 65 percent," said Savage.

"Return fire, full spread of torpedoes," MacLeod ordered. "MacLeod to engineering. Lt. Malone, how long would we have to drop shields to beam the crew and passengers off *Repulse*?"

Malone responded after a short delay, "Twenty-seven seconds."

"Nearly half a minute the ship would be exposed to fire," MacLeod's first officer, Commander Alantris said, her dark Betazoid eyes narrowing. "That's an eternity under fire."

MacLeod knew she was right. They had to take some of the guns out of the equation first. Then they could attempt a rescue of *Repulse*'s crew. The Scot turned to Savage, "Keep firing on that cruiser. I want them out of the action as soon as possible."

Phaser and torpedo fire continued between the cruiser and *Fearless*, each ship dealing the other brutal damage. As they fought, *Repulse* continued to tangle with the Marauder until finally, Dark's ship was dead in space, her warp core nearly critical.

Seeing *Repulse* close to being destroyed, MacLeod ordered the *Fearless* to attack the Nausicaan ship head on. She came at the cruiser and unleashed her remaining firepower on the ship, tearing it in half and causing the vessel to explode in a burst of debris. The *Fearless* soared past the wreckage of the enemy ship and came at the Marauder, phasers firing as she approached. Seeing the *Fearless* still in a formidable state, the Ferengi ship veered off her pursuit of *Repulse* and cloaked.

The remaining Nausicaan ship also moved out of firing range and went to regroup with the Marauder. Both ships were circling *Fearless* and *Repulse*, like vultures flying around their prey, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"They are still out there," Alantris warned. "We could drop our shields and beam *Repulse*'s crew out, but we would be vulnerable."

MacLeod nodded, "I know. For 27 seconds. It's a risk we'll have to take. Move us in close to *Repulse*."

Over on *Repulse*, the situation was grim. The last hit had caused a hull breach in engineering and the crew there was lost. The growing core overload was now unchecked and the bridge was unable to eject the core. *Repulse* was going to explode in just a matter of minutes.

Worse news came to Jack Dark on the smashed bridge of *Repulse*. When engineering was hit, Commander Kane had just arrived there to assess the situation with the core. Dark furiously hailed the engineering compartment trying to learn the fate of his first officer and lover, only to receive the terrible news from a crewman who had gotten out just before the hull breached.

"She...she's gone, commander," the crewman replied over the comm. "The entire engineering staff are all dead."

Dark, sitting in his chair on the bridge, looked around with tear-filled eyes at the destroyed bridge, a look of utter shock and despair on his face. They weren't going to make it. Not unless there was a way to beam them all off the ship.

"Evacuate everyone to the cargo bay," Jack ordered. "We'll use the cargo transporter to beam everyone out."

The bridge crew sounded the order and evacuated the bridge, leaving Jack there alone. He closed his eyes, collected his thoughts, and then looked up to find a working console somewhere on the smoke- filled bridge.

He made his way to a functioning console and formed an interface device with his right hand, using the nanites inside him and controlling them with his telekinetic ability. He inserted the interface into the console and began to access every functional system in the ship he could access.

Finding what he wanted, Dark opened a channel to *Fearless*.

As the *Fearless* approached the visibly battle scarred *Repulse*, a transmission came from the dying ship. "Audio only," Savage reported.

"On speakers," McLeod said.

"Dark to *Fearless*," Jack said, his voice weak. "...the bridge is smashed... Commander Kane is...dead..."

MacLeod grimaced. He knew Jack and Taryn were a couple. They had been seeing each other for years. When Jack returned about a year ago from studying and improving his telekinetic abilities among other telepathic, telekinetic and empathic races, he told MacLeod being away from Taryn had been the most difficult part of his sabbatical.

He could hear the pain in the man's voice as he spoke. MacLeod was determined to get everyone off the *Repulse* before it was destroyed

"We're moving into transporter range. We're going to attempt to beam everyone off," said Ian, reassuringly.

"And leave *Fearless* open to attack?" asked Jack. "No, captain, this is what we're going to do. I'm going to beam everyone off and onto *Fearless*. I can do it in half the time."

MacLeod's brow furrowed, "And just how are you going to do that? *Repulse* is going to explode in a matter of minutes. The ship is barely functional."

"By routing my nanites into the transporter and I'm boosting it," he said. "You drop shields, I initiate transport of the crew and hostages, once aboard you raise shields and get out of here. I can do it in 10 seconds."

"You're a madman!" MacLeod scoffed.

"Just do it, Ian!" Dark snapped. "There's no time. This core is going to blow any minute!"

MacLeod sighed and looked around the bridge crew, "Move us into transporter range. Get ready to drop shields, on my mark!"

The *Fearless* moved in above *Repulse*, matching her current speed and closing to transporter range. Once in place, Savage looked over and nodded, "We're ready."

"You better be right about this Dark!" MacLeod snarled. "Or I'm going to kick your bloody ass!"

Dark laughed, "Sorry, that ass kicking will have to wait, captain. You know I won't be there to receive it, no matter what the outcome is. Just do me a favor...tell Sorvek and the rest of Starfleet this is their fault. Taryn, Sontag...the others...it's on them. They should have negotiated. Failure to do so resulted in this debacle. You tell them Ian! Tell them! "

The speaker crackled and the transmission ended.

"Dammit Dark!" MacLeod was flustered. Finally, he relented, "Drop shields on my mark....go!"

The moment the shields dropped, Dark initiated transport and it was fast. Faster than transporters were meant to function. The hostages and crew of *Repulse* were all successfully beamed to *Fearless*, appearing in the cargo hold.

MacLeod ordered the shields back up, just as the two enemy ships closed and opened fire. Much to his surprise, they had shields when the two ships pounded them with phasers, the defenses holding as *Fearless* took off at full impulse.

At that moment, the *Repulse* erupted into a mini-nova, her core breaching and the explosion carrying the blast out from the ship and taking out the Marauder and Nausicaan ship at that same moment. The *Fearless* bridge crew cheered as the ship jumped to warp and left Kazis behind.

As soon as Fearless was underway, MacLeod left the bridge and headed down to the cargo bay where they had received the survivors of the Repulse. On the way down the turbolift, the Scot was pensive, contemplating all that had happened. Jack's entire Shadow Ops team, with the exception of Daelin and Falco, were dead. That included three veteran SO operators - Dark, Kane and Sontag. It was, for lack of a better term, a total cluster.

MacLeod came out of the lift onto deck 7, where he was greeted by Lt. Daelin, a Tellerite. She snorted and turned to lead the captain toward the cargo bay. "Jack didn't beam out," Daelin grumbled.

"I'm aware," said MacLeod as they walked along the corridor. "How are the hostages?"

"What's left of them...they're good," Daelin said.

They stepped through the door into the cargo bay and found the survivors sitting around on the floor, being checked out by medical staff. MacLeod looked around at the group and while relieved they had rescued many of them, he was still shocked at the loss of so many. This had not been a smooth operation by any means. They had suffered great losses and had little to show for it.

As MacLeod toured the cargo bay, checking in on the surviving delegates of the conference, a Federation representative stood and approached him, hand extended like a true politician.

"Captain," he said. "Aaron Gant. On behalf of the hostages we thank you and your crew."

MacLeod nodded, "Many lives were lost here, Councilman Gant. We're going to want to debrief each and every one of you. We need to find out just who did this and why."

Ganted nodded, "I'll rally everyone together to meet with your people. Give them some time to receive treatment and collect themselves."

"Agreed," MacLeod said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, councilman, I need to speak with the surviving team members who rescued you. We'll arrange accommodations for all of you."

"Thank you again, captain," Gant said. "I'm sorry for your losses."

MacLeod turned and left the cargo bay. After all that had just happened, he needed some time himself to collect his thoughts and prepare his report to Starfleet.

ONE YEAR LATER

Stardate 1102.11

Captain Ian MacLeod walked the hallways of Starfleet Command with Admiral Sorvek at his side. The Scot was livid. They had just come from a meeting with the heads of Starfleet Intelligence and the news had not been good.

"Shut down! Of all the bloody misguided ideas!" MacLeod muttered as he and the Vulcan admiral walked along the headquarters of Starfleet in San Francisco. "All we've done for the Federation. All these years of service and sacrifice. And they just pull the plug on us."

"I know you are human, Ian, but please, try to control your emotions," said Sorvek, his voice calm. "We both know the decision was political. There is little we can do about it."

"Political!" MacLeod scoffed. "That bloody, ungrateful shit Gant. Gets elected president of the Federation Council and then shuts us down, the goddamn organization that saved his sorry ass just 14 months ago."

Sorvek stopped, causing MacLeod to halt and turn on his heels to face the Vulcan, "I understand your anger, it's a human reaction. President Gant laid out his reasons. No more clandestine intelligence organizations. After the Section 31 disaster, you have to put yourself in his position, Ian."

"Shadow Operations was never like Section 31," MacLeod hissed. There was oversight! We did good things! Good people in the organization died to save lives, Federation lives."

"The decision to shut down Shadow Operations was not punishment, MacLeod," Sorvek explained. "It was merely a reaction to the last six months of hearings, the exposing and deconstruction of Section 31, the criminal charges brought against 132 Starfleet officers and 16 governmental officials who were a part of Section 31."

"They knee-jerked!" he growled.

"That is a good analogy, Ian," said Sorvek. "Nevertheless, Shadow Ops is disbanded. We are to deliver the news to the troops and see to their reassignment. You and I have our own jobs to do."

MacLeod laughed, "Hunting down remaining Section 31 cells and bringing them to justice. I'm well aware of our orders. Bloody Section 31."

Sorvek placed a hand on the captain's shoulder. "I will see to the orders to the rest of Shadow Operations. Prepare the *Fearless*, we will be using it as our command ship in the Section 31 task force we've been tasked with creating."

MacLeod sighed and gave a curt nod, "Fine. I just want you to know, I believed in your Shadow Ops, admiral. I know it has done great things these past years. I'm proud to have been a part of it."

"I too am pleased with the organization's performance," said Sorvek. "But, how is it, as you humans say, all good things must come to an end."

MacLeod nodded, "That's true. I'll report back when Fearless is ready. I have a stop to make before I beam up."

Sorvek nodded, "As you wish, captain. Until we speak again." The Vulcan then headed off, reaching a turbolift which he boarded and disappeared into.

MacLeod then headed to the nearest transporter room and stepped up onto the platform, "Federal Penal Settlement, New Zealand," he told the operator.

The transporter operator energized the transporter and beamed MacLeod to New Zealand, where he materialized in a transporter at the penal colony. The captain was greeted by security there who confirmed his identify and the fact he was unarmed. They then escort him to a room where he could meet with a prisoner.

Not long after, as MacLeod was seated at a table, a door to the room opened and an older man was escorted in, wearing heavy restraints - much stronger than his thin form required. The man was brought over and seated at the table across from MacLeod. He glared at the captain, a look of complete disgust on his face as the guards secured him and stepped back.

"What do you want?" Erik Jaeger asked, a sneer dripping from his mouth. "I was enjoying myself working in the rock quarry. It's great exercise, you know."

"Erik, so good to see you adjusting to your new life," MacLeod said cheerfully. "I trust you've been making new friends here...the kind who you don't want to drop the soap in the shower with, perhaps."

Jaegar surged forward, prompting the guards to raise their stun batons, but he stopped himself and stared coldly across the table at his former subordinate.

"So, did you come here to tell me about the Federation shutting down your precious Shadow Ops?" he asked. MacLeod, unable to refrain, gave him a look of disbelief. The disbanding of Shadow Ops was barely an hour old. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Ian. Just because I'm in here doesn't mean I'm cut off from intelligence."

Jaegar leaned in even closer, "And tell me you didn't see this coming? You didn't think Section 31 would just forget your people exposed them? Brought them down?"

"Thank you for confirming to me there are still plenty of active Section 31 operatives out there,"

MacLeod said. "But I didn't come to tell you anything. I came to find out what you did with the real Lt. Daryl Thompson and Lt. Greg Durham? I know it was you who killed their clones and disposed of the bodies. But where are the real Thompson and Durham?"

Jaegar considered the request and slowly a grin spread across his face. "Why should I help you?"

"Because you owe me," MacLeod said in a low voice. "When you were exposed as Section 31 and your crimes were revealed, I kept Bravo Squad from murdering your pathetic ass. I could have let them kill you."

"They'd have done me a favor," Jaegar laughed. "I'm 75 years old, doing hard labor in a penal colony. Death would be a relief from this."

"Your death would have been excruciatingly painful, Erik," the Scot replied. "So yes, I did you a favor."

Jaegar pondered the request again and slowly sat back in his chair, "When the clones turned out to be uncontrollable and we realized they were not going to go along with plans, I threw them into the warp core and vaporized them."

MacLeod knew the reason Jaegar was able to easily dispose of two seasoned Shadow Ops operators was because Section 31 had enhanced him. They had given him unnatural abilities such and strength and speed - courtesy of genetic engineering. He knew this old man was far more dangerous than he seemed, hence the heavy restraints.

"I know how you killed the clones," MacLeod said. "The real Durham and Thompson. Where are they?"

"Durham is dead," Jaegar said matter-of-factly. "He put up a good fight, but I snapped his neck. I got the drop on Thompson and subdued him. Gave him to some uridium miners in the Cotath system as slave labor. They probably worked him to death long ago."

MacLeod gritted his teeth. He was fuming at this man's callous attitude toward former Shadow Operations team members. He could not believe this man was once his commanding officer and friend. But then it turned out he had been working with Section 31 for years. He'd not only masterminded a plot to create clones of some Shadow Ops personnel and use them to undermine the unit, but he'd also taken knowledge of future events gained through Bravo Squad and with Section 31 went back in time to change the events leading up to the Federation-Confederation War.

These exposed events not only brought him down, ultimately, but they were part of the evidence used by the Federation Council to bring Section 31 to an end.

For Jaegar's part, he'd ended up here after his court martial. A life sentence under heavy security due to his illegal genetic enhancements, he would toil away doing heavy labor for many years to come.

MacLeod considered Jaegar a moment, and shook his head. "You were a good man, Erik. Someone I looked up to, admired and tried to be more like. But I was wrong. I never saw who you really were, until now."

"Better man than you'll ever be, Ian," the former admiral muttered. "You lack insight. You lack vision. Why, you're so naÃ¯ve you think Section 31 is done for. A thing of the past. I have news for you, MacLeod. Section 31 is just getting started."

MacLeod chuckled as he stood up. "Just like you're just getting started breaking up those rocks in the quarry. Have a good life, Erik."

The Scot stood and left the visitation room without looking back at Erik Jaegar. As far as he was concerned now, the Jaegar he knew was dead.

It was time now to go find Lt. Daryl Thompson and bring him home...if he was still alive.

Commander T'Aayla Praiin Raillius

Risa

Stardate 1810.29

T'Aayla Praiin Raillius woke slowly, only allowing consciousness to creep gently in. She slowly stretched and turned in her wide bed, feeling the softness of the silken sheets against her skin. Sunlight streamed through the curved windows that comprised half of a wall in her
bedroom. She felt the heat of the sun through her closed eyelids, and simply savored the feeling of waking peacefully, without concern, and without pain. It had been only very recently that she had achieved those three experiences. Minutes ticked by while she savored the feeling of semi-consciousness and contentment. She deserved it, she justified to herself, allowing herself to revel in the luxuriousness of the comfortable bed.

Eventually, she opened her eyes, shielding them against the bright light. The clock on the wall read 10:34. She chuckled to herself. Since when had she been able to sleep in that late? With an effort she sat up in bed, stretching her arms luxuriously above her and bending from side-to-side. Idly her left hand moved to the scar just under her right breast, tracing a three centimeter line that was exactly between her fifth and sixth ribs on the right hand side. With that touch, the magic of the peaceful morning ended, and she recalled the handle of T'Lek's blade protruding from her chest, while hers protruded from his. Hers had found his heart and killed him, whereas his had missed hers by a mere 2 centimeters, puncturing her right lung. She'd lived. He had died. He had underestimated his opponent. She smiled as she thought of her "father," Senator Raillius, telling her over and over again in his training sessions to never underestimate your opponent. His teachings had allowed her to live; it had allowed her to triumph, and it had saved his house and sons. The smile slowly faded, as she also recalled his passing. Slowly her usual emptiness returned, despite the bright sunlight.

She had not been able to stay with her brothers on ch'Rihan; her presence was still a potential liability to their house. After the incident on Jarnassis IV her brothers had their hands full dealing with the after effects of the House of T'Lek's treachery. While T'Lek had been disgraced, no family with that much power in the Empire ceded it easily. Given her background, and despite her prominent role in T'Lek's defeat, she couldn't return to the Empire. Her "history" could potentially be used against her, and her family. So, once she was able to leave the sickbay of her brother's Warbird, she had returned to Senator Raillius' shuttle, and had returned to Federation space.

Now she lay in a large bed with silk sheets instead of her usual hard bunk, or furs atop a stone platform. The yellow sun of Risa streamed through her windows, not the green hued sun of ch'Rihan. She forced the dark shadows from her mind. She'd return to her brothers one day, to ch'Rihan, or Romulus as Terrans called it, when it was to their advantage. In the meantime, she'd convalesce on this hedonistic planet deep within the Federation. No one would look for her here, nor ask questions. No enemy would suspect her to be here. She was simply one of millions of visitors the planet received.

Time to rise. She swung her legs to the side of the bed and slid off it with the practiced athleticism of a trained warrior. She made her way through the opulent bedroom, to the attached en suite bathroom. The large mirror within reflected her image back to her. One hundred seventy centimeters tall, 68 kilos of weight, long black hair cut in the typical Rihansuu style, muscular yet lithe build with plenty of curves, multiple scars over her body, and brown eyes that held the look of someone far older. She was 38 years old in Earth years, but that barely translated past adolescence in Rihansuu years. During that time she'd risen to the pinnacle of a career, had that smashed to pieces, and then had picked up those pieces and made herself what she was today. The face that stared back at her was hardened, had seen a lot of pain and suffering, but had also experienced what few ever had. What the future held, she did not know, but whatever it was, she would survive. She would prosper, and she would succeed. Honor demanded nothing less.

Risa

Treveon Resort

Stardate 1810.29

T'Aayla Praiin Raillius arrived in her room at the Treveon Resort and was greeted with a message awaiting her on her Starfleet-issue computer she'd brought along. Opening the screen to the device, she saw the message scrolled there:

"Commander T'Aayla Praiin Raillius,
Ah, bloody hell! Jaime. I'm sending a runabout from Starbase 450 to retrieve you from Risa at 0900 hours tomorrow morning. The runabout will bring you to Starbase 450. I will meet you there. I have an opportunity for you and, well, dammit arcus..Raillius...whatever I should call you these days, I need you. Hope to see you soon. - Admiral Ian MacLeod."

Ryramorl Ra'yral

Palace of the Five Overkings, Carnor

Carnor Calender Date:

Drengar Adorns Maryaln
Month of Presenting 5

Sentinal's Eye Travelling from the House of the River to the

House of the Great Tree

Stardate 1810.29

((OOC: A note about the Carnora Calender: Due to Carnor being A) tidally locked, B) one of six major moons of a massive gas giant, and C) in a binary star system, the Carnora calender is very complex. Their dating system tracks the six major moons (which are all in orbital resonance),the turning of their host planet, and the movements of a red dwarf star that orbits far out in their solar system.

"Drengar Adorns Maryaln" Drengar and Maryaln are two of the other five major moons of The Prince; this phrase refers to Drengar passing directly between Carnor and Maryaln. Carnora dates do not mention the other moons except in official documents, unless those moons are in a significant place in relation to Carnor.

"Month of Presenting 5": The King of the Heavens is the central star, a yellow dwarf about the same size of our sun, whil the Prince of the Heavens is the planet Carnor orbits. A Turning is one day of the prince, and this is tracked by its ever-present auroras (which do not align with its geographical poles). It has been 5 Turnings since Carnor passed directly between the King and Prince of the Heavens (which is called "Presenting").

"Sentinal's Eye Travelling from the House of the River to the House of the Great Tree" The Sentinal's Eye is the red dwarf that is also known as Antevas II. "The House" refers to the constellation Antevas II appeared in during a conjunction of The King of Heaven, the Prince of Heaven, and the Sentinal's Eye (this is tracked by how many Turnings it has been since Carnor was Presented). If it's between two constellations, it's described as travelling from one House to the next. This conjunction marks the New Year amongst many Carnoras, so their cultural year is actually a little longer than their actual solar year.))

The sound of stringed instruments and flutes filled the air as the Overkings of the Carnora Pentarchy entered the Hall of the Five Thrones, guarded by trusted members of their respective races. Ryramorl Ra'yral was such an honored member, entrusted with erstwhile President of the Carnora Republic Shor-Ghan Roshaigaro, now OverKing of the Olvern. Ryramorl and his fellow guard took their places at either side of the Throne of the Olvern, as Shor-Ghan stood before his throne and nodded a greeting to the OverKing who would sit beside him, the diminutive Rissa Jachekchek of the Muran. Rissa was small, even by Muran standards. His guards, however, were veritable giants of their race, each over three feet tall. The last OverKing to enter was that of the Ataran, Oregarek Zaveron Island Great Ring Sea. Each were armed with spears--symbols of their authority. Two thrones--the Throne of the Ursarin and the Throne of the Seawalkers--remained empty; the nomadic Ursarin were unsure how to choose a representative of their race, and the Seawalkers remained stubbornly elusive. Ryramorl wasn't sure if the Seawalkers knew or even cared about the Pentarchy's existence.

The OverKings had agreed not to hold a court like this unless there was a matter that involved the Carnora race as a whole, so Ryramorl saw the the Federation Ambassador Daniel Arkes brought before them under guard, Ryramorl knew this was going to be interesting. Oregarek gestured towards his guards. "Bring out the probe." The guards relayed the order through their radios, and a trolly was brought in carrying some sort of underwater probe.

Beside it was a spear at least 30 feet long and the damage to the probe suggestehad at once time been right through it. Oregarek glared at the ambassador. "The Seawalkers brought this to Zaveron Island ten Turnings ago, saying that they found it near one of their temples. We've studied it and found human writing on it, so we know it came from your race. You know that a non-Carnora may come to Carnor only with explicit permission. This includes any unmanned probes or craft that come to the system. In short, Ambassador Arkes, you will keep your Starfleet JUNK off our homeworld."

Arkes looked at the wrecked probe carefully, coming as close as the guards would allow him. "...this did NOT come from Starfleet. It may have originated somewhere within the Federation, but this is NOT Starfleet."

"It belongs to Starfleet now. Call them and tell them to pick it up as soon as possible. I, OverKing, have spoken" He placed the point of his spear on the floor in a gesture of judgement. "I also have an issue with the Federation," said Shor-Ghan. "The charge brought against Talsyn Rayargan for drug smuggling."

"Yes. The fruit he was caught with has a strong, narcotic effect when ingested," said Arkes. "We question that. The Ronjaro fruit has been a delicacy amongst the Carnora for centuries, and no such effects have ever been reported."

"Amongst Carnora. But the governer of Salarr IV is human."

"You will provide proof of the narcotic effects, or drop your case. Until then, Talsyn has done nothing wrong. I, OverKing, have spoken." And he placed his spear point-down Rissa didn't have a specific charge, so he simply said, "I support my fellow OverKings in these matters. I, OverKing, have spoken." He set his spear point-down. Once Daniel Arkes was removed, other matters of State were brought before them.

After Court was dismissed, Ryramorl returned home. To his surprise, his brother High Ra'yral Chief Myaral was waiting for him outside his den.

"Myaral. This is excellent news. Come on in."

Ryramorl and Myaral entered; Myaral's mate was already within, helping Ryramorl's mate cook dinner. "So, what of the charges against the Federation?" asked Myaral.

Ryramorl snorted. "Shor-Ghan wants proof that the Ronjaro fruit has any effects on humans before they go after Talsyn. Personally, I think the real issue was Talsyn was back in teh Federation, and they needed something to go after him over."

"And the Probe?"

"Starfleet had better be here very soon to get that bloody thing. Oregarak says it was actually found near one of the Seawalker Temples, so they're probably pretty pissed too."

Myaral growled. "Good to know Shor-Ghan hasn't gone soft."

"How goes it back home?"

"Rowasher was caught Hunting again. He actually kidnapped a Muran and forced him into a Hunt, and the Muran got hurt bad."

"Dammit. Two Cleansings, and he STILL pulls this?"

Myaral nodded. "We had a meeting of the Chiefs. I've had enough of this thunderrunner's leavings--Rowashar is from OUR band, no less! He is a disgrace!"

"And a third Cleansing won't take."

Myaral growled in affirmation. "No, it won't, which is why I called a meeting of the Ra'yral Chiefs. And we agreed that there won't be a third Cleansing. He will be sacrificed to the LawBringer."

They would have talked more, but their mates called them to dinner.

After dinner there was a message waiting for Ryramoral: "Lt. Ra'yral. A runabout from Starbase 450 will retrieve you from Carnor in two days. I have an opportunity for you. Hope to see you soon. - Admiral Ian MacLeod."

Commander Mayla Vree

Hamar Mountains, Kronos

Stardate 1810.30

The remnants of the moon Praxis still reflected some light across the mountain range that night. The air was still, leaving a light blanket of volcanic smoke to settle in to the valleys between the peaks. A fine layer of ash covered everything. No wonder plants couldn't grow here. Even off in the distance, the night wasn't completely dark as light emanating from flowing molten lava would give a permanent red-orange glow to the night sky forever.

Five dark clad figures were crouched in defensive positions behind stray volcanic boulders, shrouded in the shadows and unmoving. They watched through piercing eyes the two Klingons standing guard the entrance they needed to go through. It was the back entrance; the garbage tunnel. They watched patiently as another Klingon brought out a barrel of remnant foodstuff and poured it over the side of the cliff. He gave the guards a grunt before disappearing back through the door. They had patiently watched for hours the habits and routine of the guards and those inside. The sun had set nearly five hours ago. They had seen enough. It was time to move in.

"Overwatch, take them," Commander Mayla Vree, designated Echo 1 and team leader, sent the order to Lieutenant Jair Kalal, Echo 5, over the new subspace subvocal. He was situated at an outcropping half a kilometer away that gave him a good view of the complex that was carved out of the side of a mountain. Each of them had personal jammers to mask their energy signatures from any scanners the Klingons had placed around the perimeter.

Without hesitation, the heads of the two Klingons each jerked back once, less than a quarter second apart, and slumped to the ground without a single drop of blood shed. The silenced sniper rifle fired a 2mm explosive round that once it entered their skulls, the round activated a micro explosion to send compacted shrapnel into the surrounding tissue. Depending on the density of tissue, the shrapnel can reach the size of a fist, tearing everything in its path apart.

"Clear," Jair reported as the thermal imagery projected in his eyes from a transparent membrane across his eyeballs showed no one else in the vicinity. He briefly looked at the visuals his overwatch drones were keeping an eye of the surrounding area. It only showed the two now cooling Klingon bodies. He shook his head slightly, thinking how stupid they were to rely entirely only on sensors to monitor the surrounding for intruders.

Mayla gave a hand signal to the rest of her team and moved towards the door in the dimly lit compound. Four members of Echo Team on the ground moved in unison through the door and down the tunnelled out hallway that led deep into the mountainside while Lieutenant Hilo Navim, Echo 6, remained outside to cover their escape if needed.

She slowly tracked her TR390 back and forth, taking point to the first fork in the tunnel and looked both ways for anyone while following what her tricorder was reading within the vicinity. She paused for a moment to quickly check the drones sensor readouts projected into her own eyes of the exterior to be sure no one was coming up from behind them. Jair would have warned them if there was anyone. She could now smell rotting meat and foodstuff coming from the left. They weren't going that way anyway. She headed down the right corridor with her team following in silent unison.

The cave walls began to expand in width and height as the floors became polished stone. The walls now held torches of various sizes that lit the way in an orange glow. The further they went in, the more modern technologies were prevalent; automatic doors, illumination running from a central power source, and even access panels in the walls. Eventually, even the cave walls were no longer visible as if starship interior paneling was installed to house various conduits for power and computer data cable runs. And the ceilings began to reach 8 meter heights to allow the movement of heavy equipment and weapons perhaps.

The sound of booted steps on the stone ground reached their ears as the tricorder picked up the lifeform approaching from around the corner. Without needing a signal from their team leader, Echo Team took up shooting positions just as a female Klingon turned around the corner. Projected in their eyes, four targeting dots appeared on the armored breastplate and converged into a tight square. All four fired at the same time, but not a sound came from their weapons. Four rounds plowed through the armor and into the Klingon's heart, completely destroying all eight chambers before she could cry out or draw a weapon. So confident in their marksmanship, they were already moving before the body hit the ground.

"Sky eyes," Mayla said over the subvoc. Her 2IC and Echo 2, Lieutenant Commander Kara Barees, pulled out several small medallion sized devices from a pouch at her belt, activated them and threw them up into the air. The small drones floated up to the ceiling and moved forward, sending visuals and sensor scans back to the team. She ordered them towards their primary target. The drones moved slowly and quietly ahead of them, hugging the ceiling corners to stay innocuous and hidden in the shadows as much as their AI can discern. The team of four moved quickly down the hall, turning down one, then turning to another. They had expected to encounter more guards, but kept vigilant and alert as they moved towards their mission objective.

Mayla held up a fist to stop their movement. There was a roar of many Klingons that echoed down the hall to them; at least a few dozen. They waited a moment for the yells to quiet down a few decibels before they continued. Now they could hear more clearly the voices of Klingons coming through an open double doorway down one hallway. It sounded like they were either celebrating, or bolstering their Klingon blood for their upcoming coordinated assault on the Klingon High Council tomorrow. Boasting of the number of kills and victories they have yet to claim. Echo Team would deal with them shortly. They had to reach their primary target first. They headed down a different hallway.

At last, the drones announced their arrival, detecting the lifesigns of their target. But there were four heavily armed Klingons posted outside the chamber doors 30 meters down the hall. The four team members took up position just around the corner; one was crouched low, one was on one knee, one was standing, and Mayla stood next to them. Upon assigning targets, on her signal, all four swung out around the corner and fired at the same time. All four Klingons fell to the floor; killed by deadly headshots.

Echo Team broke into a silent run towards the door. "Three, breach," Mayla said, ordering Lieutenant Cree Tiallin, Echo 3, to activate the door. He burst ahead of them into a full sprint, going down on his knees in a silent slide to pick up a fallen Klingon's batleth and skidded to a fluid halt onto his feet. He reached for the panel to activate the door and held out the handle side of the batleth in front of the opening door. Before the door even opened all the way, Mayla, first in the pact, grabbed the batleth from Cree as she entered the room.

Once inside, they dispersed and took in the large room with one glance, noting positions to take for cover, and most importantly, identifying their target. All but Mayla went down to one knee, slowing their forward momentum and taking a bead on their target. Mayla continued her charge across the room.

The tall, large klingon was standing in front of a floor to ceiling wall mirror admiring what would be the new Chancellor's armor he would wear the next day; and every day from then on. When he finally did turn to see who had rudely entered his room without announcement, three weapons had already targeted into a tight triangle on his chest where his heart was and fired. Three rounds simultaneously went through the armor and into his heart. By then, Mayla had reached him and coldly impaled him through the heart in the same spot with the end of the batleth so hard that the point of the weapon pierced through the armor in his back.

The large klingon's eyes silently roared with anger at first, then disbelief as his life slowly left him. The body fell solidly onto the ground with Mayla's knee on top of him, still holding the batleth. She gave it a twist to the left, and then a twist to the right. She stood up and looked over to Jair, who tossed her another batleth from another dead klingon guard. She caught the weapon and whirled around to gain momentum and slammed the end through the klingon's thick skull. Giving it a quick left and right twist, she then got up and left the weapons impaled in the body like grave markers and signaled the team to quickly move out. They still had to clear the building of the rest of the klingons. She didn't want to lose the element of surprise.

Twenty five minutes later, the four members of Echo Team silently left the compound, bloodied and leaving a carnage that was made up to look like the klingons had turned on one another and killed their leader. The initial intelligence reports indicated they were going to use high yield explosives to destroy the Great Hall with all of the Klingon leadership converging for a meeting. Echo Team found the explosives and transported them all into a magma chamber deep below them to be disposed of. They scrubbed clean their existence in the operation before Jair came down from his vantage to join them at the exfiltration point while Hilo collected the overwatch drones.

"Good work," Mayla simply said. The team of six performed well, again. They worked together as one unit, one organism, as they always did since that first training day together so, so many years ago. Even before they were in the Academy together.

"Time to go?" Lieutenant Jena Lias, Echo 4, asked.

Mayla didn't respond to her, but opened a channel to the Ascension class ship in orbit ready to beam them out. "Echo 1 to *Axiom*, six to beam up."

No one greeted them when they materialized on the small transporter pad situated aft of their small cloaked ship. They all headed back to their shared quarters except for Mayla, who headed for the bridge. Upon entering, there was also no one there, as if the ship was deserted. But in this day and age of technology, they no longer needed a bridge crew to run a small ship like this. Although, they still kept stations to be manned and they will always have a center chair. Which Mayla now sat into.

"Computer, maintain cloak and set course for Echo Base, warp 7. Engage."

"Acknowledged," the computer responded. "Setting course for Echo Base and engaging at warp 7."

"Once we are clear of Klingon space, send coded message "Brown Sunset Zero" to home base. I'll be in my quarters." Mayla stood up and waited a moment for the computer to respond. Their base would understand the predetermined code; Brown stood for Klingon, Sunset stood for mission completed, and Zero stood for zero casualties.

"Acknowledged, Commander. And welcome back."

Mayla just shook her head at the computer's attempt to be more...emotionally sentient. When she reached her quarters that as team leader, had to herself, she stripped off her gear and took a sonic shower to wash the dust and ash of Kronos. When she came out, she sat down at her computer terminal and started her after mission report. Occasionally she would glance over at a hologram pad propped up on her desk, staring at the picture of her family. Of the five people in the image, only three of them were still alive, including herself. A sad smile came to her face faster than she expected. The elder became reclusive after the death of his wife and daughter, and the youngest became angry blaming Starfleet for taking away his family. The past 10 years had been rough on their family. The loss of Linsayla, Nilani, and Shadow Operations took a heavy toll on her father. Even with the vast experiences of several hosts through his symbiote, Kyril Vree allowed himself to shut down inside and focus only on the work that was given to him. She knew these experiences in his life was placed on a shelf and into a locked closet in his heart; a way to keep him focused on his work at Starfleet Intelligence. He had even shut her out, causing a rift and distance between them she hoped someday could be bridged. She knew him better than anyone alive, and she knew better of him. She missed him so much.

A chime sounded on her terminal, indicating a waypoint in their navigation. They had just left Klingon space, and the computer had transmitted her message to their hidden Starfleet Intelligence outpost, Echo Base. She put down the holopad and got back to writing her report.

In the middle of the night, Mayla was awakened by a transmission arriving at her desktop terminal. When she pulled herself from bed and padded over to the console, she opened the encrypted message and it read: "Commander Vree. Your vessel has been ordered to drop you off at Starbase 450. I have an opportunity for you. See you soon. - Admiral Ian MacLeod."

1st. Lt Daryl Thompson

Starfleet Intelligence HQ, San Francisco, Earth

Stardate 1810.30

Daryl sat at his desk, overthinking how to optimize the subroutines of some AI algorithm. He sipped from his coffee, as he was looking at the advanced schematics laid out on the screen in front of him.

"Time for a break" he thought. At that same moment, the door chimed. "Come in" he said absently as he was closing all files. The door opened and a woman entered. It was a good looking woman, in her early forties. Pale skin, freckles, and with lush, red hair, in a long braid.

"Daryl?" she almost whispered. Her voice sounded frail. Daryl looked up.

"Yes, how can I help you?" he asked. The woman stepped forward.

"Don't you remember me?" she asked.

Daryl looked at her and tried to remember if he knew her. But he didn't. "I am sorry, but no I don't, miss...?" he replied.

"McGuirre. Darva McGuirre. May I sit down?" she looked as if she didn't feel too well. Her eyes were moist.

"Of course" Daryl replied, while he was still thinking if he'd knew her.

"Can I get you something? A glass of water?" Daryl got up and walked to the replicator.

"A glass of water would be fine" she said, while she sat down, uneasy. Daryl got back with a glass of water and sat down again.

"I am really sorry, ma'am", as he noticed the pips of the rank of a Lt. Commander on her uniform. "But should I know you?" Daryl had a guess were this was going. The redheaded woman took a few sips of her water, and exhaled.

"We did serve together. Quite a while ago. On the *USS Intruder*. Under captain Lazarus. But I guess that was your cloned alter ego."

Daryl sighed deeply. It was still difficult to realize that someone else, an identical clone had lived a part of his life, while he was imprisoned on some backwater planet.

"Apparently it was," Daryl replied. He had gotten all the files with the "history" of his cloned self. But so far he hadn't read through them. "I guess my unknown past is catching up with me," Daryl smiled slightly. He felt uneasy. He didn't know what to expect. Commander McGuirre was an attractive woman. He really was curious where and when they had served together.

"Can I invite you for dinner?" He asked her. "I was just finished for today. And I think we have a lot to talk about, don't we?" He looked at the commander. She smiled warmly.

"I'd loved to." Was her answer. "I know a nice quiet place." Daryl said as he got up. "Shall we then?" he smiled again, hiding the uneasy feelings behind it.

A few hours later...

Daryl was dazzled about what Darva told him. During dinner, in a cozy corner of a French restaurant, she told him what happened during the time they served together on the Intruder. An Anti Borg Squad. And it was obvious Darva and the cloned Daryl were more than friends. Well, that wasn't too hard to imagine. She was a interesting and pretty woman. After they had returned, or better, survived the last attack from the Borg, Daryl returned to SO and Darva was reassigned to a different branch of Starfleet and they lost contact. They had sent each other some messages for a while, but then, the cloned Daryl went rogue. Darva told all about it, at least her side of the story. Her eyes were filled with tears when she told about the part where the Daryl she knew betrayed Starfleet and had to flee. She was heartbroken. When she found out recently Daryl was still alive, she didn't hesitate and went to see him. And there they were, together, sitting in a restaurant...

It was difficult to grasp what Darva told him. Daryl couldn't believe it. He had missed quite some action. His thoughts drifted away. Then he felt Darva squeezing his hand. "Hey, you still here?" she asked. He looked at her.

"I am sorry. It is...quite a story what you tell me. It's hard to grasp someone else lived that life. And I am kind of jealous I missed out on it. And not just for fighting the Borg in the Delta Quadrant. " he looked her in the eyes, and feelings he never felt came out of nowhere, overwhelming him.

"I missed you Daryl." Darva said. She took his hand and held it tightly.

"What can I say, Darva." Daryl replied. "I would've missed me too" he added, jokingly, and grinned. Darva looked at him sternly for a moment, then she giggled. "You haven't changed a bit. Even though you are older and not even the Daryl I used to know. " Daryl was
glad he pulled her out of her bad mood.

"Shall we have another bottle of wine then?" he grinned as he gestured the waiter.

"Well, why not" Darva said, and smiled warmly...

Daryl woke up early. He opened his eyes and saw Darva lying next to him, still in deep sleep. He smiled, and gently kissed her on the cheek. He felt a little fuzzy. Too much wine and too little sleep. He smiled. Then he carefully got up, not to wake her, and slid out of the bedroom to get ready for duty.

Half an hour later he sat at the bar table in the kitchen with a hot mug of coffee and some cereals. He was reading some of the logs from his cloned alter ego, as Darva walked into the kitchen, a little uneasy. Daryl cracked a smile "Hey, good morning" he said, as he grabbed her gently and kissed her. Darva smiled and replied his kiss.

"Hey good morning" she said, as she cuddled against him. Daryl enjoyed it. He could get used to this. It felt good to have Darva around him. Even though he only knew her since yesterday, it felt good. Very good.

"Want some breakfast?" he asked her.

"Yeah, would love to." she replied. Daryl jumped of his chair, and went to work. No replicator breakfast, but old-fashioned, hand-made breakfast. Withinminutes, eggs and bacon were sizzling in a pan, fresh coffee was brewing, and the air was filled with the smell of toasted bread.

"There you go" Daryl said, serving 2 plates with breakfast and steaming hot coffee.

"Enjoy your breakfast" Daryl said, as he kissed her quickly and sat beside her.

"Thank you, likewise" she replied.

"So what are you up?" Daryl asked her, in between to bites, to start a conversation.

"I don't really know" Darva replied. "I have about a week before I have to return to duty." She played with her fork for a few moments, then she looked at Daryl. "I would love to spend some more time with you. Not a day has passed without thinking about you, ever since.... " she stopped talking. "I am so glad you are still alive and I found you. " she said. Daryl smiled.

"I would love to spend time with you as well. I like you very much Darva. Things feel...naturally with you..." he looked her in the eyes. "It feels good to be with you as well" she whispered.

Daryl gently took her in his arms. For a short while, they just sat there in silence, enjoying the moment. Then he broke the silence. "I do need to get to work though, so I guess our time will be bit limited. But I would love to get to get to know you better. If you want, you can stay here in my apartment."

She looked at him. "Really? "

"Of course" Daryl replied.

"I think I can get used to the fact someone is waiting for me when I come home." He kissed her gently. "Speaking of that, I have to go soon."

They finished breakfast and cleaned up together. "Make it yourself comfortable here. " Daryl said as he was heading for the door. "Computer, give Darva full access to my apartment."

The computer chirped shortly and replied "Access granted."

"We could grab lunch together. I do have some room in my current job." he looked at her once more, and felt that great feeling again. "I would like that" she said.

"Good. See you around noon then" he replied, and with a last kiss, he walked out of the apartment. On his way to Starfleet HQ, his comm-badge chirped.

"Lt. Thompson, a high priority message has come in for you." the voice of comms officer Huxley stated.

"Thank you Lt. Huxley. From who is the message?"

Daryl asked. "I can't tell, Lieutenant. The message is encrypted and for your eyes only." Daryl raised his eyebrows.

"I am on my way, officer, be there in 5 minutes..."

Message to Lt. Daryl Thompson: "Lt. Thompson. Be aboard the Federation freighter *USS Zephyr*when she departs Earth on Stardate 1810.20. You will join Colonel Jahkar there. I have an opportunity for you. See you soon. - Admiral Ian MacLeod."

Lt. Cody Beckett

Asteroid station NCLM-345, Asteroid belt near Gamma Arcturis sector

Stardate 1810.31

Cody stood behind the helm officer, who was preparing to dock the hauler at the station. They had been hauling ore, nonstop for the past 72 hours. This was the sixth load since they started. Each cargo load was about 800,000 metric tons of raw ore, which would be refined at the station. The refined metals would be transported to every corner of the Alpha quadrant.

Cody was dead tired and looked forward for getting a shower, some sleep and decent meal. The past 72 hours where nerve wrecking. The company was on the verge of collapsing, and a lot of ore transports had been hijacked lately. 3 haulers where destroyed and all ores had been stolen by pirates. A massive drain for the company.

The last 72 hours, no pirate had been sighted. So in 3 days they had been able to haul a huge amount of raw ores. The company could use the financial injection. A light shudder went through the hauler, when the docking clamps grabbed the ship into position. A few moments later, they were hailed. It was Doc O'Brien, leader of the fighter squadron attached to the hauler.

"Cody, all safe here. No bogeys in the vicinity. So far so good. We dock as well. Station armament is locked and loaded. Squadron's Pi, Ro and Sigma are on standby."

"Aye aye Doc, enjoy your off time. See you tomorrow for the next haul." Cody opened a comm channel to the cargo chief. "We're docked and ready for transfer, Chief T'Lum."

For a few moments, it was silent. Then the raw voice of T'Lum replied. "Aye sir, initiating transfer procedure. "

Cody sighed. He was done for now. He turned to the ops engineer. "Keep the shields up. Call in the squadron's at the first sign of other ships appearing here."

"Yes sir" the Ops engineer replied.

A few minutes later, Cody reached his small personal quarters on the station. Just before he entered, he heard his name being called. It was his uncle, Sean.

"Good job you did there, mate, good job. But we still need a lot more before we are out of trouble. Can you pick another shift tomorrow morning? " Cody turned towards his uncle. He never liked him a lot. And now he was even pushing things to the limit.

"Uncle Sean, the crew has been working their asses of for the past 3 days. They deserve at least one, but better two days of shore leave. You can't push them any further. They will start a mutiny."

"You can handle that, can't you" Uncle Sean smiled. "I expect you to make another haul run, starting by 0600 tomorrow." Uncle Sean walked away, but Cody stopped him.

"I am not hauling tomorrow. Nor is my crew. I told you when I started this, I will help. But on my terms. And that means no hauling tomorrow. And then I'll have a look at my crew if they are up for it."

Uncle Sean's eyes narrowed and his face became red. "Do I need to repeat myself, boy?" Uncle Sean hissed.

Cody cracked a wry smile."Do I need to repeat myself, Uncle Sean?" Cody replied, and his uncle's face reddened even more. Cody stayed calm, and crossed his arms.

"I'm done with you and your big mouth. " Uncle Sean almost spit out the words. "You are done here. Tomorrow you will leave this station. "

Cody shrugged. "That's ok. And I'll take my crew with me. Don't want them to get in your way. Goodnight, uncle Sean" Cody stepped into his quarters, as he felt he was grabbed by the shoulder by his uncle and pulled back.

"How dare you talk to me like this" Uncle Sean fumed. "I built this company, together with your father for the past 40 years....So don't get me this load of crap." Cody pushed away the hand of his uncle, which was still holding his uniform, and he stepped close to his uncle. "If you ever touch me again, I...." then he saw his father coming towards them. Jerry Beckett stepped in between Cody and his brother Sean and pushed them both backwards.

"Come on you two. This isn't necessary." He addressed Uncle Sean. "Sean, can you please handle the loading of the refined metals for Betazed ? Commander Idraar is in a hurry. He wants to leave as quickly as possible. " Then he pushed Cody into his quarter and stepped in as well. The door closed behind him, leaving a puzzled Uncle Sean behind.

"Sit down" Jerry said to his son and pushed him on the bunk. "What the hell was that all about?" he looked at Cody."You know we need every scrap of ore to get back in business."

Cody sighed. He had had this conversation for about a gazillion times. "Listen, dad...I am aware of the situation of the company. But I wasn't the one to have the haulers fly unprotected between the belts and the station. And I wasn't the one who pushed his crew way past exhaustion, resulting in a crash off that hauler into a planetoid. And now he wants me to do the same. Me and my crew have been
hauling for 3 days nonstop. And they deserve at least one day of to get some rest. We are not hauling tomorrow. " Cody looked at his father, who had his eyes closed and exhaled deeply.

"I know" Jerry said. "You are right. You and your crew take the day off tomorrow. I'll talk to Sean and try to reason with him. He only wants to have the company get back on track."

Cody scoffed. "Then maybe he should overthink the way he is trying to do business. This isn't certainly the way. " Cody answered. Jerry sighed, "You are right. I'll have a word with him. Are you ok?"

Cody nodded. "Yes, I am. But I am dirty, tired, and hungry. So if you don't mind, I would like to take shower, eat, and sleep for a few hours. I will drop by later."

"Fair enough," Jerry nodded and made his way out, leaving Cody to his own.

Cody sighed and shook his head. He wondered if the company would ever get back on track as he walked into the shower. A little later Cody walked into the messhall of the station. Refreshed, but still tired he took a small meal from the replicator and sat down at a table with a view at the asteroid belt. Small mining vessels where moving back and forth through the asteroids. The messhall was quiet. A few
people where sitting there, probably getting ready for duty.

Further down the messhall, a group of miners where having a drink and a laugh. Cody ate his meal, while reading through some reports of the hauler. Minor damages, some broken parts and a few minor accidents in engineering. Cody scoffed. The ships of his family's company weren't in the best of shape, as maintenance was pushed back below the bare minimum. He threw the datapadd on the table and continued his meal. When he finished, he stretched out and sat there for a while, his hands folded behind his head, gazing at the scenery the window provided.

He was pondering about how to continue his life. For over a year, he was working for the family company again. He had taken an extended shoreleave from his Starfleet assignment to do so. His superior in Starfleet, Captain Dasen, a Trill, wasn't fond of giving him the long shoreleave. Cody himself wasn't very eager himself as well in the beginning, but he felt obliged to do so. So here he was, more than a
year later. He wasn't unknown to the life of miners, but since the end of the war, piracy and theft seemed to have risen a lot. The past year he had seen a lot of troubles on the mining missions he went on. He lost a few good friends along the way, killed in stupid accidents or pirate attacks. He pushed away those thoughts, stretched once more, emptied his glass of juice and decided it was time to hit the sack for a while.

Lt. Cody Beckett

Asteroid Station NCLM-345

Stardate 1811.01

Beckett was awakened in the middle of the night by an alarm on his computer console, signaling an incoming transmission. When he finally stumbled to the console and retrieved the message, it said: "Lt. Beckett. A runabout from Starbase 450 will retrieve you from Asteroid Station NCLM-345 at 1635 hours. I have an opportunity for you. See you soon. - Admiral Ian MacLeod."

Colonel Jahkar

San Francisco/Starfleet Command

Stardate: 1811.01

Colonel Jahkar walked along a line of Federation Marine Recon graduates, inspecting each soldier. Seeing if anything was out of line, any equipment out of place or if anyone looked overly nervous. They were all perfect. Just as Jahkar had trained them to be. All of them were going to be an asset to Starfleet, just he had been and as many other Marines had been before them.

"I look at you all today, and I see soldiers!" Jahkar said, his voice booming. "Eight weeks ago you all came to me looking to become Recon Marines! At that time I laughed when I saw you all assembled like this at Ft. Nordic. You were a pathetic bunch! Undisciplined, untried and unaware of what you'd gotten yourselves into. Not all of you who began this journey finished it. Eighteen dropouts or washes. But what remains is a fine, fighting force. You may all be proud to call yourselves Federation Recon Marines!"

"OOHRAH!" the 12 men and women assembled all barked in unison. Jahkar looked them over again and nodded, "We are here today at Starfleet Headquarters to graduate you from recon training. Each and every one of you will be given assignments today that will take you about Federation ships or starbases, where you will be assigned to marine units serving there.

"Tell me again, what is the relationship between Starfleet and the Federation Marine Corps?"

"Starfleet does the flying!" the 12 yelled together. "Marines do the dying!"

"That's right. Marines fight, and they often die. But they know their duty and they always finish the mission," Jahkar said, his voice loud and assertive. "You have all done well. Lt. Cartwright will give you your assignments. It has been a pleasure to train you all. Do not let this Corp down."

"SIR NO SIR!"

"At ease, soldiers," Jahkar said. "Lieutenant, they're all yours."

Cartwright stepped up from behind Jahkar, saluted the colonel, and then began to give the unit their assignments. As he did, Jahkar turned and headed from the field toward the Marine base at Starfleet Headquarters.

When he stepped through the door, he was met by a young Bolian corporal. The corporal saluted and Jahkar returned the gesture, before he spoke.

"Colonel," Corporal Neng said. "You have a message from Starfleet Command, encoded for your eyes only."

"Who sent it?" Jahkar asked.

"Admiral MacLeod."

Jahkar smiled. "I'll take it in my quarters."

"Sir yes sir," the corporal sprang to attention and hurried off. Jahkar made his way to the quarters he'd been assigned at the Marine compound within Starfleet Command and once inside, he sealed the door and went to the computer on his desktop and pulled up the message, after it was decrypted, he read: "Colonel Jahkar, please be aboard the *U.S.S. Zephyr* when she departs for Starbase 450 later today. I have an offer for you. See you there. - MacLeod."

Jahkar saw the attached orders for him to ride out on the freighter *Zephyr* when it left today at 2100 hours. He pondered the situation and moment, then began to pack...intrigued about what might possibly be ahead for him.

Lt. Tiri Sh'avelith

*U.S.S. Pandora*

Stardate: 1811.01

Phaser fire crisscrossed the corridors of the space station orbiting Gallad VI as a team of Starfleet Intelligence's Special Activities Division operators shot it out with the last remaining members of the criminal organization known as the Consortium.

The battle was the culmination of years of missions by the crew of the SAD-assigned starship *USS Pandor*a. They had been hunting and destroying Consortium strongholds across the Alpha Quadrant, until today when they were on the space station known as Kepler's Array mopping up the last vestiges of Consortium filth.

Lt. Tiri Sh'avelith was in the thick of the fight, exchanging fire with Consortium foot-soldiers as they closed in on the leader of the Consortium, Grak, a Ferengi who had secretly headed the organization for years. Tiri and three members of SAD-1, the Starfleet Intelligence unit she belonged to, were advancing down a corridor leading to the command center where Grak was trapped.

"He's not getting out of here," Tiri hissed through clenched teeth as they neared the door into the command center, stepping over dead Consortium soldiers along the way. "Not this time."

"Lieutenant," Commander Finneus Fitzpatrick said firmly. "We've got him, we just have to follow the plan. Don't rush."

The Andorian woman gave a curt nod. She wanted Grak badly, she'd waited for this day for two years. Ever since her only true friend aboard Pandora, Ensign Amanda Ramsey was killed on her first mission with the team. Ramsey was the only member of this crew who accepted her and treated her like one of the team, and Grak's people had killed her in a bombing on Dorcestus III.

She would exact her revenge. She had no intention of letting the Ferengi scum live. They reached command center and Ensign Viers attached a shaped charge of explosives to the door. As he did, Tiri and Fitzpatrick covered him. A couple more armed thugs attempted to come at them, but they were able to dispatch the attackers in short order.

Finally, the charge was set and Viers moved the three of them back to a safe distance before he blew the door. When the blast occurred, the team moved forward, signaling the other SAD-1 operators they were breaching the command center.

Tiri was in first. She saw several armed Consortium soldiers all aiming to fire. She picked off one and rolled behind a console as a barrage of phaser fire slammed all around her. Viers was in next, but barely made it in two steps before he was vaporized. Fitzpatrick followed, firing wildly and taking down another soldier, before jumping for cover.

Another door on the opposite side of the room exploded and more phaser fire erupted as the next team was unleashed upon the Consortium holdouts in the command center. Tiri fired from her cover, striking and killing at least two more gunmen.

She ran from her position, dropping the gun, and jumped up and slung her legs around one of the Consortium thug's neck. She spun around on his shoulder, wrenching his neck until it snapped, dropping him to the floor. She jumped free of his falling carcass and leapt to the floor.

There she landed in a crouch and looked around, seeing another approaching Consortium soldier. The Andorian launched herself up at the man, slamming her agile body into his gut, pushing him back and knocking the rifle out of his hands. She drew her ushaan-tor - an Andorian ice pick - and drove the weapon up into the man's throat, piercing it deep.

The man dropped to his knees, gasping as he died quickly, Tiri pulled the ushaan-tor from his neck and finished him with a knee to the face.

Looking around, her eyes fell upon the prize. The fat Ferengi cowered in the corner, watching the fight, dismayed as he saw the Special Activities Division team mopping up the last of his soldiers. Tiri sheathed the ice pick and drew her phaser pistol from its holster. She then walked toward Grak, shooting a couple more soldiers as she made her way there.

From behind her, she heard Commander Fitzpatrick yell at her, "Lieutenant Sh'avelith! We want Grak alive! Use stun only!"

Tiri ignored her CO and kept marching at the Ferengi. He was now looking right at her, his disruptor in hand as he shakily aimed it at the Andorian woman.

"Grak!" yelled Lt. Commander Thorne, another member of the team as he moved toward the Ferengi and aimed his rifle. "Drop the weapon and surrender!"

Grak looked to Thorne and compiled, dropping his disruptor to the floor. He put his hands in the air and cackled, "I surrender! Ha! My Federation lawyers will have me out in no time!"

"Not likely," Tiri muttered, raising her phaser and aiming it at Grak.

"Lieutenant! NO!" Fitzpatrick shouted, now scrambling to tackle her. "Don't shoot him!"

Tiri fired. The beam from her phaser struck Grak's midsection and he gave a blood curdling scream, just seconds before he was vaporized. When he was gone, the room was silent. All of the soldiers were dead and the SAD team stood around, looking at Tiri with utter disbelief. Fitzpatrick ran up on her and grabbed the phaser from her hand. "You just killed the person we were sent here to apprehend. I ordered you not to kill him!"

"I wasn't about to let him live," she muttered, her voice dripping with contempt. "He has killed three of our team members, four counting Viers who just died, over the last two year. He has killed countless civilians. Federation justice would have let him walk. I wasn't going to let that happen!" Fitzpatrick turned the slender young Andorian toward him and shook her by the arms with both hands,

"It wasn't your call to make, Lt. Sh'avelith! We don't kill people who surrender. He was surrendering nd was unarmed."

"Too bad for him," she sneered.

"Take her into custody and take her back to *Pandora*," Fitzpatrick hissed, trying to quell his anger. "Lock her in the brig."

Two of the team members grabbed her up and took her away to be beamed out by the *Pandora*...

*USS Pandora*

Orbiting Gallad VI

Stardate: 18101.01

Tiri Sh'avelith lay on her bunk in the brig, her weapons and gear removed several hours earlier, leaving her in her mission uniform. She stared at the ceiling, quietly, until Commander Fitzpatrick arrived and lowered the forcefield on the door, letting himself in.

"You have got to be one of the luckiest people I know," the red-headed commander said. "I was going to order you court martialed for what you did on that station. You killed an unarmed man who surrendered, also snuffing out the last, best hope we had of learning if there are any more Consortium strongholds."

Tiri sighed, "Remind me again, commander, why am I lucky?"

He threw a data pad at her, landing it on her midsection .She reached down and picked it up, then looked over the data displayed there.

"Transfer? And orders countermanding the court martial?" she asked. "Is this a joke?"

"Sounds like one, doesn't it?" he said. "But it's not. Orders from Starfleet Intelligence, an Admiral MacLeod, reassigning you to his command. We drop you off at Starbase 450."

Tiri sat up, "So, am I free to go?"

"I'm still putting this in your file, lieutenant," Fitzpatrick grumbled. "I hope you're happy with yourself."

She paused a moment, "Hmmm. Yes, yes I am, commander."

The commander shook his head. "Go. Pack. You're relieved of duty the rest of your time on Pandora and confined to quarters. I don't want to see you again, understood?"

"Yes sir," she said, smiling.

Fitzpatrick stormed out in a huff and Tiri got off the bunk and stretched. Two security officers escorted her to her quarters and there, she began to pack her bags.

Back to top

## S1, E1, Act 2: **Arrival at Starbase 450**

1st. Lt Daryl Thompson

Starfleet Intelligence HQ, San Francisco, Earth

Stardate 1811.08

Daryl sat in a chair in his apartment. He had been thinking about the message of Admiral McLeod all day. And he already had made up his mind. But there was a lot to ponder about. He would meet Jahkar again. They hadn't been good friends...on the contrary. He was wondering how Dara would be doing. He had never seen her again after her transfer. The door opened, and Darva came in. She smiled as she saw Daryl. Daryl smiled back, but Darva saw something was going on.

She kissed him "Hey. How was your day? Is something wrong?"

Daryl sighed. "I got a message from Admiral McLeod. He asks me to come to Starbase 450. He has an opportunity for me." He answered. Darva sat down as she thought about what Daryl said.

"Did he say why?" Daryl shook his head. "no, he didn't. But he wants me to be there soon. I should embark on a freighter, the *Zephyr*, which leaves tomorrow in the afternoon." A small silence fell. "so far for our time together." Darva said, with a faint, but sad smile.

Daryl nodded. "I guess so. But I will be back in a few days" He looked at her. "And we still have today and tomorrow. I have the day off tomorrow. So we do have some time together before I leave" He pulled her across towards him. "Would you come with me?"

Darva looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Daryl looked at her "I mean, when I do get back into doing missions again."

Darva shook her head "I can't just leave my current duty to come with you. I mean...I really do like you Daryl...and I am so glad you were still alive and that I found you...But we only just met. I can't just leave everything behind because of that and a possible assignment you get. Even though it will be hard."

Daryl nodded. "I guess you are right." he said. "So let's enjoy the time we still have..."

The next day, 1400 hours.

Daryl stepped into the public transporter room, together with Darva. He turned towards her and and grabbed her gently by the waist. They kissed their last kiss, holding each other tight. Then Daryl stepped up to the transporter pad "To the *USS Zephyr* please". The operator nodded and within seconds, Daryl was enveloped in the typical bluish swirl of energy....

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.07

Jahkar beamed aboard the *USS Zephyr* in Spacedock and stepped off the transporter pad, facing the officer manning the console.

"Welcome aboard Colonel Jahkar," the officer said. "Yeoman Tyson here will show you to your quarters."

An alarm chimed on the console and Transporter Chief Maxwell looked to Jahkar, "If you'd like to wait a moment, your bunk mate is beaming aboard."

Jahkar nodded, not in a particular hurry. "Bunk mate?"

"Travelling with you to Starbase 450," Maxwell smiled. "Energizing."

He worked the transport controls and a shimmer pillar of light appeared on the pad, slowly taking the shape of a man. When he finally materialized, Jahkar looked to see who it was and had to take a step back in surprise.

"Thompson!" he gasped. "I heard...you were dead!"

Lt. Cody Beckett

Asteroid Station NCLM-345, Asteroid belt near Gamma Arcturis sector

Stardate 1811.09

Cody grabbed his last few things and put it in the duffel bag on his bed. The message from Admiral McLeod came right on time. It was time Cody left the company and went back to where he belonged: Starfleet. He was very curious about the 'opportunity' the admiral had for him. He zipped up the duffel bag and left his quarter. The shuttle would land soon. He walked right up to the office of his father and walked in. Jerry and Sean were once more debating about courses of action. Cody shook his head. This was exactly why he had to leave. The continuous discussion, the stubbornness and hotheadedness of both brothers.

They both kept arguing, and Cody cleared his throat to interrupt them. They both looked up. "Cody. Are you sure you wanna do this? we need you here" Jerry started.

"I made up my mind dad." Cody replied. "No need to try and get it out of my head. If the opportunity doesn't work out, I am going back to Starfleet anyway. I am done with the company for now." Cody glared at his uncle Sean. "and you know exactly why." He looked back at his father. "I just came to say goodbye and good luck" His dad nodded. He hugged Cody.

"I understand son. Be safe, and let us know once in a while how you are doing."

"I promise I will," Cody replied. Then he looked at uncle Sean. "Goodbye" he just said. Uncle Sean just looked away and grumbled something under his breath. With a last look at his father, he left the office.

Ten minutes later, he boarded the shuttle and threw his duffle bag on a seat and sat down next to it. Within minutes, the shuttle powered up, left the docking bay and steered clear of the asteroid field. Then it went to warp, on it's way to Starbase 450.

Once aboard the Starbase, Beckett received a transmission: "This is Commander Lanara Alantris, aide to Admiral MacLeod," a female voice responded. "The admiral would like you to report to *USS Fearless*, docked at pylon S-64 at 1800 hours."

Lt. Commander Vala Preet

Talon-class scoutship

Stardate 1811.09

Vala sat in the cockpit with her feet stretched out in front of her. She imagined the hum of the warp engines, though no sound could be heard on the small ship. She was truly alone for the first time in what seemed like months. If she wasn't sitting in a simulator classroom with her students then she was out on deployment ferrying some Starfleet Intelligence team behind enemy and sometimes friendly lines.

Over the years, she had earned her reputation as one of the finest pilots in Starfleet though no one outside of SI would know it. To the regulars, she was just another Academy instructor. To Intelligence teams, she was an ace who could get them out of a firefight in one piece. More or less. And if it was less, she could patch up the ship enough to limp home.

She looked around the Talon class starship. It was a fighter built for a single pilot. She loved the ability to control the ship from a single console. The commands could flow just from her fingers and voice without needing a Bridge crew. It was equipped with an AI system that could control the ship from points A to B, but she liked to keep busy so she was sitting at the command station watching the stars roll by.

Currently, she was on her way to Starbase 450. Admiral MacLeod, a name she vaguely remembered from her single year in Shadow Operations, had commanded her to bring the unnamed ship from the shipyards at Utopia Planitia to the distant Starbase. She was booking it at warp 8 to make the rendezvous in time.

Vala didn't mind the disruption in her schedule. There was always someone else to teach her classes when she was off Earth, and to be honest, she'd been accepting more and more Starfleet Intelligence missions in the last few months. Teaching just wasn't enough anymore. Flying wasn't flying if it didn't have stakes, and Admiral MacLeod's message mentioned an interesting offer to be had. Anytime someone in SI offered you something interesting, Vala jumped at the opportunity. Maybe her classroom days were over. A part of her would miss her students, but she was craving action and a change of pace.

The computer chimed indicating she needed to drop out of warp. She was approaching the coordinates for Starbase 450. With a few keystrokes, the ship dropped to impulse power. "Talon class vessel to Starbase 450. Request permission to dock via Admiral MacLeod's orders." She sent along the ship's official transfer orders. It was odd that it didn't have a name, but maybe the Admiral hadn't picked one out yet.

"Orders confirmed." a disembodied voice answered her after a few seconds. "Proceed to docking port 23 Alpha. Welcome to Starbase 450, Lt. Commander Preet."

Shortly after Preet landed the scout ship, she received a hail: "This is Commander Lanara Alantris, aide to Admiral MacLeod," a female voice responded. "The admiral would like you to report to *USS Fearless*, docked at pylon S-64 at 1800 hours."

Ryramorl Ra'yral and Reepchip Charatetet

Capital City, Carnor

Carnor Calender Date:

Drengar Adorns Maryaln

Month of Presenting 6

Sentinal's Eye Travelling from the House of the River to the House of the Great Tree

Stardate 1811.09

Ryramorl had used a code that only the Royal Guard and a precious few others knew--a request to converse with his OverKing in private. He explained the message he got from Admiral MacLeod. "The way he was talking, I think Shadow Operations is returning in some form," Ryramorl said.

Shor-Ghan grunted. "Short notice. I'll have the controllers redirect this shuttle to Watchtower 680, and we'll meet the shuttle there. It is NOT landing on Carnor proper."

As soon as Jim Danvers piloted the shuttle Overstone into the Carnor System, he discovered that he was expected. When controllers asked why he was there, he answered that he was asked to meet with a Ryramorl Ra'yral, and was told he was to go to Watchtower 680 instead, where Ryramorl would be waiting

Upon docking with the space station, two burly Carnoras--one Olvern and one Ataran--greeted him and escorted him to a meeting room. Waiting for him there was several more Carnoras--including three he recognized from news feeds as the new OverKings of the Carnoras. The others wore similar armour to those who had escorted him. "Greetings," said Shor-Ghan. "You are here to retrieve Ryramorl Ra'yral on the orders of Admiral Ian MacLeod. The most obvious explanation is that Shadow Operations has been reformed and Ryramorl is to be reÃ¤ctivated."

Jim have Ryramorl a sharp look, knowing at once the source of the leak.

Ryramorl met his gaze calmly. "I had to let His Majesty know about the message from Admiral MacLeod. I'm one of the OverKing's personal bodyguard"--he tapped his own battle armour--"so I have to explain any extended absence."

Jim breathed deeply. "How many know about this?" he asked.

"Those you see in this room, Ry'ala'ara, my brother and Clan Chief Myaral, and his mate, as they were in my den when I got the message," responded Ryramorl.

"Ryramorl will go with you," said Shor-Ghan, "If Shadow Operations is indeed active again, Ryramorl will be given an indefinite leave of absence while he serves. If not, then he is to come straight home and resume his duties."

A tiny creature Jim knew from the news as Rissa Jachekchek stood up from his elevated chair. "You will also take Reepchip Charatetet along," he said, gesturing to the only creature not in armour or fancy garb. "He, too, is a graduate of Starfleet Academy and an excellent engineer, having taken many advanced courses. Starfleet has decided it has no postings for him, so this will be an excellent opportunity for him to prove himself."

The two OverKings glanced at their Ataran counterpart, but he remained silent, simply keeping an eye on Jim. "You are dismissed," said Shor-Ghan. "Ryramorl and Reepchip will collect their luggage, and join you on the shuttle."

Wordlessly, the two guards that had escorted Jim to the shuttle escorted him back.

On the way to Starbase 450, Reepchip was telling how he'd gotten into advanced engineering in Starfleet. "...so I decided that it would be more accurate that instead of saying, 'Please state the nature of the medical emergency,' it should say 'What have you boneheads done to yourselves THIS time?'" The added squeaks and chitters and distorted words revealed to Jim that the Universal Translator was not translating for Reepchip--he was actually speaking English.

Ryramorl burst out laughing. "Did you manage to do it?"

Reepchip grasped a bottle with his tail, took a drink, and sighed. "No. Apparently centuries of mischievous cadets have honed security until it could take fur off my tail, and I got caught.

Ryramorl snickered. "Ah, so that's why all the advanced engineering classes. They weren't impressed by your racial knack, they were just trying to keep you out of mischief!"

"Boneheads is right," said Jim. "About 20 or 30 years ago, there was a hell of an infamous accident where some cadets tried to do a Kolvoord Starburst, which the Academy banned over a hundred years ago."

"Kolvoord Starburst?" asked Reepchip.

Ryramorl nodded. "It's the Federation term for a King In Glory," he responded. He turned to Jim Danvers as Reepchip's jaw dropped. "The King In Glory is only performed by elite stunt pilots, usually during the Day of Passing celebrations. I can't imagine mere cadets trying it, but I know about that accident."

On Starbase 450, Ryramorl came face-to-face with Ian MacLeod for the first time in many years. Ryramorl stood before Ian in his full ceremonial battle armour complete with the blood red cape of a guard. He did not shake hands; instead, he kneeled before the Admiral. "What is thy bidding, my master?" he asked.

Ian sighed. "Of all the old Earth films you could have been exposed to."

MacLeod motioned for Ryramorl to join him and he led the way to docking pylon S-64 where the USS Fearless awaited.

Lt. Tiri Sh'avelith

*USS Pandora*

Stardate: 1811.09

Tiri walked toward the airlock door on Deck 16 where *Pandora* was moored to Starbase 450. There was no fanfare. No one there to escort her, no one to see her off. She smirked. They were all probably sore that she'd killed Grak. Fools. Did they think Grak would have done time? He would have been given some sort of cushy deal for his cooperation in further investigations against the Consortium and eventually, he would have walked free.

He needed to be killed. For all he'd done. For all his criminal syndicate had done to Federation citizens. Tiri was a hero, as far as she was concerned. Thankfully, there was an out for the Andorian officer. This opportunity made by Admiral MacLeod, it had come at the right time. Otherwise she would have been looking at time in the brig, no doubt, possibly a court martial.

She knew of MacLeod and the legendary Starfleet organization he used to be a part of - Shadow Operations. Tiri had heard he was reassigned to Starfleet Intelligence after the end of Shadow Ops. She wondered if he was recruiting her for a mission?

Tiri arrived at the airlock door and found a security officer there. He gave her a sideways glance and resumed his straight-ahead stare.

"Right back at ya," Tiri smirked as she walked down the umbilical attached to the Starbase and departed the ship. She made her way to the hub of the station and it wasn't long after she began a stroll down the thoroughfare of Starbase 450 she received a hail.

Tapping her comm-badge, Tiri opened a channel, "Lt. Sh'avelith here," she said.

"This is Commander Lanara Alantris, aide to Admiral MacLeod," a female voice responded. "The admiral would like you to report to *USS Fearless*, docked at pylon S-64 at 1800 hours."

The Andorian looked around and her antenna twitched slightly. Her eyes fell on a nightclub across the thoroughfare and she smiled, "Acknowledged, I'll be there. Sh'avelith out."

She then stowed her duffle bag in a locked, sealed it and headed into the nightclub for a few hours of R&R.

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Axiom* In route to Starbase 450

Stardate 1811.09

Mayla stared at the message. Why was Admiral Ian MacLeod requesting for her? She didn't know much about him except that he was once part of Shadow Operations; the captain of the SO flagship *USS Fearles*s.

"Computer, have we already changed course for Starbase 450?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Who made the order?"

"Admiral Ian MacLeod."

"Does Admiral Sikos know of our detour?"

"Yes, he authorized the order."

Mayla paused for just a moment before deciding the next course of action. "Open a secure channel to Admiral Sikos."

In a few minutes, the bajoran admiral, Sikos Falon, came on the line. He gave her a nod as soon as the transmission was confirmed to be scrambled and encrypted.

"Good work on your last assignment, Commander." he started first. "Your team might get another secret commendation from the Klingon High Council for this." She could almost see a smile on his face, for some reason.

"Am I going on a solo mission, Admiral?" She came straight out and asked, purposely ignoring his comments. Commendations and medals didn't hold much value to her as did her father. The three year Linea campaign and time spent in the Mirror Universe hardened him from those flashy trinkets. Jackson Bryce had once told her that after they finally came home, Kyril said that the medals and commendations were 'just as empty as the coffins of the dead we didn't bring home.' Making it a somber reminder of the many dead they weren't able to bring home for burial.

"No. Admiral Sorvek requested your meeting with Admiral MacLeod," Sikos answered, already anticipating her question and call.

That surprised her. She hadn't seen or talked with Sorvek in years. "Did he say why?"

Sikos leaned back from the screen, folding his hands in front of him. He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe MacLeod wants to consult with you on a past mission." His hands made a few small gestures. "I wouldn't be surprised if he wants to ask you if you knew where your father was."

Mayla gave him a wry smile. "I haven't heard from Admiral Vree in years either. Every time I inquire, they always say he's on assignment and is currently unreachable. It seems we have drifted so far apart since-" Her hands gestured as if giving up hope. "We were once very close. I miss him."

Sikos nodded in understanding. "If I ever hear anything about him or his whereabouts, I'll be sure to let you know. But as for the meeting with MacLeod, it's just you and him. If he decides to require your consultation on an assignment, I will allow it upon your decision."

Mayla nodded, giving her fingers a few wiggles. "Affirmative. It's been awhile since I've done a desk assignment."

Sikos nearly laughed. Mayla Vree has never had a desk assignment. He gave her a lazy wave of his hand. "Good luck to you, Commander. Sikos, out."

The screen cut off. "Computer, remove video from that transmission. Save audio only. Authorization Vree 94 Pi Sigma Cluster."

"Affirmative, Commander."

She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest, contemplating the slightly cryptic conversation with the head of Starfleet Intelligence's covert operations department. She wasn't thinking about her father, but more about the 'other' conversation she had with the admiral using SO hand signals.

So, Starfleet Intelligence was given the go ahead to reinstate one Shadow Operations team. And Sorvek had given MacLeod a recommendation. Other than her father, her name may have come up on the short list to join the new team. Her experience with covert missions for the past 11 years perhaps made it obvious to him that she should belong on the first SO team. She had a slight apprehension in regards to being in a team of regular Shadow Operatives. Her experience thus far was mostly with her sibkins; gestated, born, and raised together. They worked together as one like a hive mind due to upbringing, programming, and genetics. They killed well together.

She wished Kyril was there to give her some advice or encouragement, but she'll have to draw from her memories and experiences of Janara, and especially Kyril of being in a regular team of Shadow operatives.

"Computer, what is our eta at Starbase 450?"

"We will arrive in 18.7 hours," the computer responded immediately.

She turned on her terminal and set up an encrypted data access channel back to Echo Base. She would have just enough time to review all of Bravo Squad's logs from the beginning.

After *Axiom* arrived at Starbase 450, Vree disembarked and her comm-badge chirped, "This is Commander Lanara Alantris, aide to Admiral MacLeod," a female voice said. "The admiral would like you to report to *USS Fearless*, docked at pylon S-64 at 1800 hours."

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## S1, E1, Act 3: **The Briefing**

Commander T’Aayla Praiin Raillius

Risa

Treveon Resort

Stardate 1810.29

T’Aayla arrived in her room at the Treveon Resort and was greeted with a message awaiting her on her Starfleet-issue computer she’d brought along. Opening the screen to the device, she saw the message scrolled there:

“Commander T’Aayla Praiin Raillius, Ah, bloody hell! Jamie. I’m sending a runabout from Starbase 450 to retrieve you from Risa at 0900 hours tomorrow morning. The runabout will bring you to Starbase 450. I will meet you there. I have an opportunity for you and, well, dammit Jamie... T'Aayla... whatever I should call you these days, I need you. Hope to see you soon. – Admiral Ian MacLeod.”

“Wish I knew as well old friend,” she said to herself. Indeed, since leaving the Romulan Empire after the death of her benefactor/mentor/almost second father, Senator Raillius, she'd been confused as how to identify herself. Certainly, she was T'Aayla to her nine Rihansuu brothers, but during her recent mission to rescue MacLeod's daughter, her old Shadow Ops friends had called her Jamie despite her Rihansuu appearance. To them, she was still the Jamie Marcus that they had known before she disappeared into the Romulan Empire nine years ago. They had no way of knowing what had happened to her during those years, or the trauma and eventual redemption she'd achieved.

Now MacLeod was calling on her again.

She was still bitter that Starfleet had abandoned her in the neutral zone essentially due to a Captain following the letter of the law instead of doing the right thing. She'd attacked and disabled a Romulan ship, the RIS Rapier, that had stolen top secret cloak detection technology from the Federation. As the two ships sat disabled, unable to move in the neutral zone, the Federation ships had sat in Federation space, whereas the Romulan ships had come to the aid of their brethren. If it was anyone else from Starfleet asking her to do anything, she'd have told them to fuck off and die, only in not so uncertain terms, and probably in Rihansuu as well. But MacLeod had expressed his opinion of their actions in about as certain terms and said he would have crossed into the neutral zone to “bloody well rescue her ass,” and she believed him. It fit his character, and her past experience with him in Shadow Ops had allowed her to overcome her now inherent distrust for all things Starfleet and believe him. During their mission to rescue MacLeod's daughter, Chas'nah, he'd been patient with her, and forgiving of her.... liberties. He'd proven her trust in him. He was about the only one in the Federation she'd listen to.

“Commander huh,” she again said out loud to herself. She'd been a Captain at one time but adding insult to injury had been “posthumously” court-martialed in absentia for her actions attacking the Rapier. Did that legally make her a Commander? Probably not, given that she was still legally dead according to Federation records. In a way Jamie Marcus had died, to be replaced by the person she now was, both mentally and physically. If MacLeod wanted her as a Commander, then that is how she'd help. Besides, in special forces operations, rank didn't matter as much as in fleet service anyway. If she could help him without betraying any of her principles, she would. She now had two families, and she was sworn to protect both.

During the mission to rescue MacLeod's daughter she'd originally posed as a Vulcan, and that cover had held until her old friend Severus Gladius had recognized her despite the nine years and despite the ears and black hair. Then again, ol' Severus had always had a soft spot for her. Maybe that was why he'd recognized her. Perhaps she'd start this mission, using the same cover as T'Praya Saviikann of Vulcan? Would she be working with anyone who had known her well? What would MacLeod want to present her as? A Romulan wouldn't necessarily be all that trusted by fellow team members. Jamie Marcus in disguise? Well, she'd see. It wasn't like she had anything to do currently, or any agenda to accomplish at this very moment. The last mission had turned out to be of great service to her House on Ch'Rihan as well as the Galaxy as a whole, so perhaps this one would turn out as auspiciously. 0900 would arrive soon, so she busied herself wrapping up her few affairs on Risa.

Commander Mayla Vree

Starbase 450

Stardate 1811.16

Mayla acknowledged the order and looked at her chronometer. The meeting was still a few hours away. She shrugged and straightened her uniform, almost as if feeling uneasy in standard dress. She decided to call for the rest of her team.

“Vree to Axiom, please inform the crew they will have seven hours of R&R. And if they would like to join me, I am waiting at the docking collar.”

Within 10 minutes, the five other members of Echo Team appeared one at a time. Mayla gave them a smile as they approached her. “It’s not often we get some uninterrupted downtime. You’re dismissed until I contact you, probably at the end of the gamma shift.”

The team looked at each other with a smile. But she motioned to her 2IC. “Kara, can you join me for an early dinner?”

“Sure,” she turned around to give her teammates a nod, but they had already gone, just as silent as they usually are on a mission. “You don’t think the sudden appearance of six Trill will cause any attention?”

“It’s a big station,” Mayla said, gesturing her to follow. In her subvoc, she contacted the Axiom to lock down the ship while they were gone. Once they reached the concourse, they immediately found a restaurant that offered Trill food, and they placed their order and settled in at a vacant table in a corner of the establishment.

“What are we doing here?” Kara asked while they were waiting for their food, referring to their detour to Starbase 450.

“I’ve been requested to attend a meeting. Afterwards, I may be transferred.” Mayla said without pause. “You might be taking my place in the Team.”

Kara just gave her a nod. “Do you think I’m ready?”

Mayla gave her a look of confidence. “Any one of you can lead, you know that. Your genetics ensured that.”

Kara shrugged. “Is this all there’s going to be in our lives? One mission after another?”

“After SO was disbanded, the Admiral  had given you the choice of pursuing other interests as long as it was inside Starfleet Intelligence.” Mayla thought back to the other teams in the Bravo Squad platoon. “Cale and Brin’s teams weren’t given that choice. They were deployed elsewhere. We were the only ones who were given a choice, and we all chose to remain.”

It almost felt like they were at the Academy again, turning to each other for support and encouragement in living this strange new life as a Federation citizen, and a Starfleet officer.

“I know you wouldn’t have left,” Kara quietly said. “You love Kyril too much. Your hope of regaining that relationship again with him may take a long time, if it would ever happen. You are chasing a ghost, sister.”

Mayla felt a pang in her heart. She knew what Kara said was probably true. But if all she could hold out for was hope, she’d take that over nothing. “I’ve lived the last six years without my father; not even a single message or word from him. When he stopped sending us yuletide gifts every year, I knew something had changed in him.”

That caused a pause in the conversation. Kyril had usually sent ALL of Bravo Squad yuletide gifts every year, regardless of where he was at. He didn’t have to, but cared for Echo, Delta, and Sierra Teams as if they were all his own children despite the hostile circumstances of their initial meeting. Even they felt the chasm.

“Well, I’ll know in a few hours what will transpire from this meeting.” Mayla said with a slight tone of resignation and sadness. If MacLeod does offer her a position in the new shadow operations team, she would most likely take it. Thinking of her own Echo Team, she knows they will survive. It’s in their genes.

They spent the rest of the time eating and talking; mostly Mayla giving her advice and recommendations for a 2IC. When it came close to the time for her meeting on the Fearless, she and Kara parted ways.

She took a circuit walk around the entire concourse to take in the shops and different forms of entertainment. She smiled at a memory of another concourse very similar to this one on Starbase Epsilon Seven where she had met Kyril for the very first time 21 years ago. Terrorists had planted two explosive devices in a nightclub and many people were hurt, including herself. She had been so afraid in sickbay by herself surrounded by non-Trills. Then when Kyril walked in, she latched on to the only being she recognized as the same race as her and allowed him to examine her wounds. She absentmindedly rubbed the spot where the fracture in her left forearm had healed up long ago. Kyril had reunited her with her parents and had made a friend for life. No one could have ever foreseen that she would eventually become his adopted daughter, the closest person to him anyone could ever be, and follow in his footsteps into Starfleet and Shadow Operations.

When Mayla reached pylon S-64, she wasn’t alone in the corridor leading to it. This corridor didn’t have any windows to see the ship, but it was the only one leading to the only large airlock that was open. Two security personnel were standing at the entry. She straightened the shirt of her red uniform before stepping up to the two armed men in yellow Starfleet uniforms.

“I’m Commander Mayla Vree, I was ordered to report to the *Fearless*.”

One man held up a padd to her face. To her surprise, the padd scanned her face and eyes. There was a beep of acknowledgement. He then gestured for her to place her hand on the padd, which scanned her DNA marker identifying who she was.

“Welcome aboard, Commander. Once you enter the ship, someone will escort you to your destination.” The man said crisply. “You’re not carrying any weapons, are you?”

“No, I am not.”

“Very well. Proceed.”

Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.16

Daryl beamed aboard the USS Zephyr. When he materialized, the first thing he saw was Jahkar. Jahkar looked shocked, as if seen a ghost.

“Thompson!” he gasped. “I heard…you were dead!”

Daryl felt a little uneasy, as they didn't exactly part as friends, a long time ago, when Jahkar and his wife, Dara Ilia, whom Daryl was romantically involved with, had been transferred to another assignment on the USS Ticonderoga. Daryl hadn't seen or heard from them since then. He wondered how Dara Ilia was doing.

“Welcome aboard Lieutenant” said the transporter operator. Daryl nodded and stepped of the transporter pad.

“Colonel Jahkar” he said.

“How are you doing? ”

Jahkar just nodded....

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.16

Jahkar remembered there had been some bad blood with Thompson, way back when they served together. It had been over Illia. He knew Thompson had been reported dead, but somehow here he was. Did he know about his wife's fate? The half-Klingon/Romulan cautiously shook hands with Daryl.

"I am well," Jahkar confirmed. "What happened? We were told you died. Obviously, Admiral Sorvek was wrong."

Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.16

Daryl sighed. It was still difficult talking about it. He looked at Jahkar, then somewhere behind him, then back at Jahkar. "I was abducted by Section 31. They replaced me with a clone. A clone that took over my life. My life in Shadow Ops. I was enslaved, on some backwater planet, to work in the ore mines... " Daryl fell silent as memories and feelings overwhelmed him. He swallowed visibly and regained his composure. "I was there for about 14 years. Then, during another riot, I was able to escape with a few others. I found a way to get back to Federation space. I learned that my clone had gone rogue, had been captured and trialed but was killed when he was in stasis. I had...it took some time to get my life back. And about 3 years ago I was reinstated as Full Lieutenant in Intelligence. " Daryl ended his story. He still didn't dare asking about Dara..

Maybe later... He gazed in the distance for a few moments. Then he grinned at Jahkar "So what have you been up to? "

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.16

Daryl had obviously been put through hell. He felt compassion toward his former colleague. No man deserved to have his life taken away from him in such fashion. The half-Klingon/Romulan led the way as they made their way to the cabin they'd been assigned.

"I have been training Recon Marines on Earth," he said. "Daryl, there are some things you may not know. Illia and I divorced many years ago. Not long after she was killed. I have raised Tajel and Kedanya these years. They are both grown now and are pursuing their own careers."

He turned to Daryl, "I am sorry if news about Illia comes as a surprise. I hope you and I can put our past differences behind us."

Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.16

The news about Dara struck Daryl like lightning. Dara was dead!

He pushed away the emotions that started stirring up and forced himself to listen Jahkar. Daryl nodded. "I think we should. Though I am very sorry to hear about Ilia. " Daryl once more didn't dare asking what exactly happened. He would find out in time. He felt bad for Jahkar. It had to be hard for him. Pursuing a career in the military and raising 2 kids. As it seemed, Jahkar was willing to forgive or at least forget what had happened, a long time ago when they were together in Bravo Squad. That was not a bad start.

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Zephyr*

Stardate 1811.16

Jahkar nodded, "I am curious about why we've been summoned to Starbase 450. I did not think it likely Starfleet was re-activating Shadow Operations. But MacLeod needs to see us for some reason."

They arrived at the cabin they'd be sharing. Jahkar tossed his gear on a bunk and turned to Thompson. "Well, at least we will have time to catch up. I'm sure we both have a lot to talk about. I'm curious to hear about how Lt. Daryl Thompson has returned from the dead!" It will be a glorious tale!"

The ship then set out for Starbase 450 and they were on their way...

Lt. Cody Beckett

Starbase 450

Stardate 1811.18

The shuttle dropped out of warp. Cody woke up in his seat. He looked through the window and saw the Starbase 450 getting bigger as they closed in. On one of it's docking pylons, a dark gray, with black touches, Sovereign class vessel was docked. It bore no name or designation number on its saucer section. Cody smiled inwardly. He had heard about these ships within Starfleet Intelligence, they belonged to the “Black Ops” division. During his time in Starfleet Intelligence he had seen a few off them. He had also heard about the famous Shadow Operations teams, where McLeod apparently had been part off before they had been shut down. So he really was curious what McLeod had to offer him.

The shuttle landed in one of the many shuttle bays, and moments later, Cody stepped onto the station. He walked out of the shuttlebay and made his way to the *USS Fearless*. Once there, Security checked him and after confirmation, he was allowed onboard. He was guided into a large conference room. A large table with comfortable seats where in the middle. On the table there where several jugs of water with glasses and a few bowls of fruit. He was the first one, so he sat down in one of the chairs, poured in a glass of water and grabbed a piece of fruit, and waited…

Ryramorl Ra'yral

Reepchip Charatetet

Starbase 450

Stardate 1811.18

        Ryramorl gestured to Reepchip, and the two followed Ian.  On the way Ryramorl explained that, as one of the four Bodyguards of the Olvern OverKing, he'd had to tell his rulers about the message.  He handed Ian a scroll and explained it was a writ from the OverKings, placing both he and Reepchip Charatetet on indefinite assignment.

        He also introduced the Muran to Ian, and Reepchip explained he had actually taken many advanced classes in engineering at Starfleet Academy, so was very familiar with Federation Technology-that, and he could scurry into conduits and places that most sentients couldn't fit into.

Lt. Tiri Sh'avelith

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.18

Tiri arrived at the airlock to *Fearless* and was cleared by security. Once aboard the ship, she was directed to leave her bags with security and sent to the conference room where the meeting with Admiral MacLeod would be held.

She’d never been aboard a Sovereign-class, and while at one time they were considered the most state-of-the-art ships in the fleet, now they were surpassed by a dozen newer, better starships.

Still, it was an impressive ship, with he most recent upgrades and refits. It beat the old Nebula-class Pandora she’d served aboard previously.

Thinking about Pandora, Tiri wondered if there would be repercussions still over her killing the head of the Consortium. MacLeod may have gotten her rear-end out of the fire for the moment, but certainly no one in a command situation was just going to let that slide.

The Andorian put it out of her mind as she boarded a turbolift which took her to the bridge. From there, the conference room was just off the bridge and there she went to take her seat and hear what Admiral MacLeod wanted…

Admiral Ian MacLeod

*USS Fearless*, War Room

Stardate 1811.19

MacLeod assembled the team aboard *Fearless*. Assuming they would become a team. Admittedly, he was throwing this together on the fly, so whether this group bonded and became the Shadow Operations unit he’d hoped they’d be, or failed miserably, was yet to been seen.

*Fearless* had served as the flagship for Shadow Operations in the old days. It later was the command center for the task force MacLeod and Sorvek ran to mop up Section 31 holdouts. Now, Ian would be continuing to command the vessel as it returned to a flagship role with Shadow Ops.

The War Room was part of *Fearless*’ refit during the Section 31 action. The room was the size of two conference rooms and was equipped with all sorts of technology to keep others from eavesdropping on what went on there, as well as state-of-the-art holographic projection systems to offer multiple tactical displays.

The doors to the room slid open and Admiral MacLeod walked in, trailer closely by a younger woman with dark hair and dark eyes. As they entered, the woman, Commander Alantris, a Betazoid, announced, “Admiral on deck!”

The crew came to attention, but MacLeod moved to sit at the head of the obsidian table and he called out, “As you were.”

Once seated, he looked down the length of the table at the crew assembled there. Some faces were familiar, others were not. But he had recruited them all based of their abilities, considering there was no longer a Shadow Ops training program. It would be up to the senior unit members to bring the others into the fold.

“Welcome,” he said as the last of the team was seated. “I’m glad you could all join us. For some of you, this is a reunion of sorts. For others, we are all meeting for the first time. Since we are pressed for time, I’d like to go ahead with my presentation and there will be time for questions and answers afterwards.

“You have been brought here because we have been given authorization to reactivate Shadow Operations. Now those of you who were previously with the organization, I must warn you not to jump to any conclusions. This is one unit, serving aboard one ship, not a complete reboot of the organization Shadow Ops once was.

“It is possible, if we are successful with this one unit, that the powers that be will agree to adding more personnel and possibly more ships. But that is still light years away. The reactivation of this unit is for one intended purpose.”

MacLeod toggled a remote he held in his hand and images displayed in air above the table, holographic projections. All of them showed various incidents of unrest – protests, riots, fighting in the streets, vehicles burning and buildings exploding.

“In the past several years, unrest has been growing on many Federation worlds.  Vulcan, Delta, Algolia, Andoria and as many as 23 other worlds. These are mostly groups who want their homeworlds to secede from the Federation, some are radical hate groups and others are straight up terrorist factions. Every world in the Federation is prone to some form of internal unrest at one time or another, but this wave of trouble has been growing and is matched by unrest in other governments in the Alpha and Beta quadrants.

“There is unrest among the Klingons, the Romulans, the Cardassians and the Tholians. In comparing all of these ongoing incidents, Starfleet Intelligence has made some connections.”

MacLeod keyed the toggle again and the images disappeared, to be replaced by a file displaying a manifest of what appeared to be a massive stockpile of weapons, explosives and other military gear.

“This manifest was seized during a Section 31 raid three years ago. The weapons detailed on the file were all manufactured by Honzam Industries in the Nyberrite Alliance. There are 100,000 phasers, phaser rifles and other similar arms listed here. This was a Section 31 cache that was to be delivered to factions opposed to the Dominion in the Gamma Quadrant. The plan was apparently to start some sort of insurrection there, but oddly, the weapons were lost in transit. The freighter carrying them was destroyed after an onboard accident. But now, the weapons that were aboard that ship are turning up in the hands of all of these groups causing the unrest – both here and abroad.”

MacLeod waited a moment, allowing the team to digest the information before he resumed. “This unit will be tasked with getting to the bottom of the rebel factions throughout the quadrant. Starfleet Intelligence believes there is a connection, but who is behind it and why remain a mystery. To date, no members of any of these groups have been taken alive.”

The admiral displayed a holographic image of a human head, a cutaway schematic of the head was then displayed, and it enlarged on the area of the carotid artery. “Another connection is this, a micro-explosive implanted in the carotid artery of every member of these terrorist cells. If they are captured, the bomb detonates. No one has been taken alive. And no command personnel have ever been uncovered.”

MacLeod looked around at the team, “It’s not much to go on, but I have confidence in this group. *Fearless* will be departing to take you to your base of operations. There, you will also find your mission ship. If anyone isn’t interested in this assignment, you can get off now and there will be no repercussions. I only want people who want to be a part of this unit. If you’re not in, then I’d rather you stay out.”

He passed a datapad to Commander Vree, “Vree, you’ll command the unit. Raillius, you’ll be her XO. *Fearless* departs in one hour. We’ll arrive at the Shadow Operations base in eight hours. Those remaining should take that time to get acquainted, or re-acquainted.”

He turned to Vala Preet and said, "Lt. Commander Preet, retrieve the Talon-class ship your brought here and bring it into the *Fearless*' hangar bay. We'll need it at the SO base.

The Scot paused a moment, then added, “Are there any questions?”

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## S1, E1, Act 4: **Dressing Down**

Commander Mayla Vree

War Room, *USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.22

All Mayla could think about was the overall scope of the task the Admiral was giving them. To find if there was a single entity responsible for the unrest throughout the quadrant. Echo Team’s last mission was to eradicate a Klingon splinter group that wanted to destroy all those in the current High Council, including the Chancellor.

Maybe this group was also a result of what is causing this unrest amongst the different empires. She tried to think back to the mission if they saw anything out of the ordinary. Then she remembered they had the visual drones map out the entire facility before they left. She’d need to get those files and review them closely in a holodeck. The high-resolution scans would allow them to ‘revisit’ the location to scrutinize the setting and environment. This was standard practice within Delta, Echo, and Sierra teams so the environment can be repurposed for training holosims. This was one of the few holdover procedures from the old days of Bravo Squad’s daily holosims.

After MacLeod asked if they had any questions, she looked around to see if anyone was going to leave. No one did. She raised a hand.

“Do we have access to those mission reports where you’ve captured members of the terrorist cell?”

MacLeod nodded, “Yes. There have been 18 cases of near-captures, 12 ended in the detonation of brain-bomb devices. Three killed themselves with poison. One shot himself. And three were gunned down by their own colleagues. No one has made it to an interrogation cell to date. But you have access to the reports.”

“And can we see the investigation data for when the freighter was destroyed?”

Again, the Scot nodded. “Yes. There was never an official inquiry, since it was an illegal operation. Section 31 conducted a brief investigation, but there are few details. The report is accessible in the database.”

She nodded to herself, ready to get to work. She had already decided before she even got off of the Axiom that she would take the transfer if offered to her. She belonged to Shadow Operations. It was her father’s legacy, and she intended on carrying it on regardless of what he was doing now.

There were only three people she knew of in the room; Jahkar, Ra’yral, and Thompson. And the latter was the biggest surprise to her that he would even still be in Starfleet considering what he did on the *USS Revenant* 13 years ago. The reports she had brought back to Starfleet had helped put him and Durham in prison. But it was later discovered that both of them never made it to trial and both supposedly died in stasis.

Then Admiral Jaegar’s treachery turned Shadow Ops upside down. All the teams had trusted him, especially Bravo Squad. Jaegar had been working out of Shadow Operations’ mobile command ship, the Typhoon class ship, *USS Vindicator* for many years until it was discovered that it was he who killed Durham and Thompson, ripping them out of their stasis pods. And worse of all, he’d been feeding intel to Section 31 for years. Captain Quentin Lazarus and Bravo Squad had volunteered to hunt him down and bring him in. But all that aside, here was Thompson sitting at the table with her.

She caught Jahkar’s eye and gave him a nod. They had only met face to face a few times, but she mostly knew him from his Bravo Squad marine training holosims he created for them before he transferred out of the the team. Kyril had his Bravo Squad had perfected his training regimen and also used it for the rest of the platoon. She wondered briefly where Commander Dara was.

Then there was Ra’yral, who also trained Bravo Squad on how to fight and hunt like a Carnora. Bravo Squad had full training sims with him when Kyril showed Ra’yral teeth from the fourth Carnora he had killed, proving Bravo Squad’s worth to be taught by the proud warrior. His fighting method was unorthodox and banned within the Starfleet ranks, but Bravo Squad always learned and trained whatever was necessary to survive. And many of those abilities trickled down to the rest of the Bravo Squad platoons. When she first joined Bravo Squad at the young age of 18, Kyril had her and her sibkins learn everything Bravo Squad knew. The daily holosims and constant training perfected their new skills and honed their already extensive fighting skills.

After answering a few questions, Admiral MacLeod then dismissed them and ordered them to be back on board in one hour for departure. Mayla got up and quickly left the room before anyone could stop her. She needed to get back to the *Axiom* to pack up her personal items and weapons. And most importantly, to transfer her command.

“Echo 1 to Echo 2, report to the *Axiom* immediately,” Mayla said over her subvocal.

“I’m already there,” Kara responded. “Are you leaving us?”

Mayla walked briskly through the docking corridor heading in the direction where the *Axiom* was docked. “Yes, I need to transfer command over to you and pack my gear.”

During her 10 minute walk to the Axiom, she had already transferred command codes for the *Axiom* over to Kara, submitted her official request for a transfer, and asked Kara to transfer the high resolution scans of the Klingon stronghold from their last mission onto a how ever many data chips as needed. She would be taking a copy of those with her.

“Echo Leader is on secure comms for you on the bridge,” Kara said as soon as Mayla stepped on board.

Captain Morgan Foster, CO of Echo Base and Echo Team, was on the screen when Mayla walked onto the bridge. “Commander, what have you decided? Will you be taking this ‘desk’ job?”

Mayla scoffed. He already knew her answer. “Aye, sir. I will.”

“Good. I have already authorized your transfer and Admiral Sorvek has ran it through the channels.”’ He gave her a smile. “You officially belong to Admiral MacLeod as of five minutes ago.”

“What did Admiral Sorvek say?” Mayla had to ask.

Foster smiled. “He said it was logical for you to accept the assignment.”

Mayla let out a wry smile. Vulcans will be vulcans.

“Then he said he never had a doubt.” Foster gave her a smile. “Good luck to you, Mayla. The only easy day-”

“-was yesterday.” Mayla finished. Something else that was a holdover from Bravo Squad. “It’s been an honor, Captain. Take care of Echo Team.” She saluted him and the screen went blank. She turned to Kara who handed her a box of data rods.

“The high res scans of the entire interior of the stronghold,” Kara said, giving Mayla almost a sad smile.

“Thank you.” With a rare show of emotion to her sibkin, she gave Kara a hug. “The ship and team are yours. Take care of each other.” Mayla let go and headed to her quarters for the last time to pack.

Commander T'Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.23

MacLeod passed a datapad to Commander Vree, “Vree, you’ll command the unit. Raillius, you’ll be her XO. *Fearless* departs in one hour. We’ll arrive at the Shadow Operations base in eight hours. Those remaining should take that time to get acquainted, or re-acquainted.”

He turned to Vala Preet and said, "Lt. Commander Preet, retrieve the Talon-class ship your brought here and bring it into the *Fearless*' hangar bay. We'll need it at the SO base.

The Scot paused a moment, then added, “Are there any questions?”

T’Aayla bristled at MacLeod using her real name.  Well...her new real name. She made a note to inquire as to why he had used it instead of her Vulcan cover name. This would both make things more complicated, yet also simpler. On one hand, anyone with any passing knowledge of Rihansuu politics or history would have heard of the family name of Raillius.

For a member of the Raillius family to be in Shadow Ops was unusual at best, and likely to arouse suspicions amongst the rest of the crew. Perhaps MacLeod had that much confidence in his newly assembled team? On the other hand, she wouldn’t need to maintain a cover, which was admittedly tiring and more work. She also wouldn’t have to act the stoic Vulcan all the time.She considered, perhaps it was better for the team’s trust to be forthcoming, initial reactions be damned. The only person who she had worked with before had been Jahkar, and that was when she was Jamie Marcus and over nine years ago. She remembered he didn’t care for Romulans. That was fine, she didn’t particularly care for Klingons either now. Everyone else was a fresh slate. She scanned the assembled group, appraising their demeanor, looking for strengths and weaknesses. She had no questions for MacLeod, at least not in public; she’d ask him anything she wanted clarification on later. In the meantime she maintained an attentive posture, displaying no emotion; however, her eyes actively took in every nuance of the interactions amongst the crew.

After the briefing was over she noted that the new Commanding officer, a female Trill, left the briefing quickly. Odd, she thought, wondering at her sudden departure. T’Aayla formally and briefly introduced herself to the rest of the crew in a matter of fact and no-nonsense way as was her style. Rihansuu maintained a rigid command structure, and she followed that stiffness in bearing today, at least for now until she got to know her crew better. After introductions, she left and immediately asked the computer the location of Commander Vree.

"Commander Vree is in her quarters, Deck two, cabin 12A."

"How long has she been in that location?"

"Commander Vree just arrived at that location."

Computer display all information on Commander Vree. As the computer displayed what was an obviously redacted file, she scanned it intently. She’d obtain the classified files later. It was always prudent to know your commanding officer, perhaps more than any other crew member. Her weaknesses would become the team’s weaknesses, and weakness was not to be tolerated. She would analyze this new commander, as she had been taught, and learn everything about her. Such was her responsibility as a First. After speed reading the dossier, she headed to cabin 12A. She knew its location exactly, as she had served aboard Fearless under Captain Sortha for years. The familiarity of the ship was…comforting, given her experiences the past year.

Commanders Mayla Vree and T'Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.23

Mayla walked into her temporary quarters on the *Fearless* and put her two bags down on the floor carefully. The bags held mostly her weapons, and a few personal items she took on missions. The majority of her belongings were still on Echo Base, which will be transferred to her new billeting when she arrives.

It had been a while since she’d been on a sovereign class starship. She’d been on the *USS Revenant* for a brief time when she was much younger, and that ship had been decommissioned for over a decade now. This one she could tell has had several refits and different modifications done to it, even though the *Revenant* was also heavily modified for Shadow Ops use. It had been specifically built to be Shadow Ops’ mobile base of operations.

The door chime sounded. She moved her two bags aside and keyed the door to open.    At the door stood the Romulan woman who was also at the meeting earlier. Vree hadn’t had the chance to meet everyone before she had to return to the Axiom.

“Commander Vree, I am Commander T’Aayla Raillius, your First Officer. She saluted and stood at the ready.

“Mayla Vree. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” Mayla held out her hand and gave her a smile.

T’Aayla hesitated for a second but took the hand and gave it a firm formal shake, making sure to exert enough pressure to make it feel solid, yet not enough to damage her captain’s hand or appear disrespectful. “I extend my greetings to you as well Commander.”

“Please, come in.” Mayla took a step back to let her in.  T’Aayla entered, and once again assumed a ready position, her hands clasped behind her back. Mayla continued, “I apologize for disappearing so quickly. I just came back on board. I had to transfer my command to my former XO and pack my gear.”

“Understood Commander. A previous command must be transferred before assuming a new position. May I inquire as to that command,” T’Aayla asked, knowing it was Starfleet Intelligence. It would be interesting to see how this Commander Vree answered.

Mayla just gave her a nod. “Yes, It was Starfleet Intelligence.” She paused for just a moment before continuing. “And the rest is unfortunately classified.”

T’Aayla nodded in understanding, “Of course, Commander. Did you have any orders?”  She waited expectantly, displaying no hint of her thoughts, but with her deep green eyes observing Mayla closely.

The first thing Mayla noticed about her new XO was the intensity in her demeanor. Her eyes spoke it all despite what the rest of her body was saying. Mayla walked over to her pack and pulled out several small data padds.

"In about two hours, I will call the team for our first meeting in Holodeck 1. Based on what the Admiral just told us and the intelligence he's given us, I came across something we need to investigate before we reach our new base of operations. There might be some clues we might find that will add to the sparse information we already have."

She handed Raillius one of the padds. "This is a schedule of daily morning holosims we will do while we are stationed at the new base, mostly field operations. We need to be able to work together in combat as soon as possible." She handed her another padd. “This is another schedule for a daily afternoon holosim that will mainly be ship board stations. If we’re to ever take a ship, we each need to know our stations and be able to function together seamlessly in combat situations regardless of the type of ship. I’ll give you the assigned and backup duty stations by the time we reach our destination.”

She walked back to her bags and picked them up, moving them to the couch. She unzipped one, the one with her various melee weapons, and checked them. Each item was firmly secured in its own holster and pouches.

"If we finish that task before we arrive, I want you to come up with an activity that will start building trust amongst all of the members of the team. We all know what our dossier says, and even some of the classified information. But there are still some things about each and every one of us that's so classified that it's not written down anywhere. If this team is to trust each other, we need to build a respect for each other abilities and what each of us can contribute to the team. Egos, chips on their shoulders, prejudices, are all to be left at Starbase 450. We are all highly skilled professionals and we don't need to show each other up or determine who carries a bigger stick. I am a firm believer in maximizing and taking advantage of everyone's skills, and that's only if we know what we are all capable of."

Mayla finished her speech, making it longer than she anticipated. She wanted Raillius to know where she stood, and what she expected from each member of the team. The speech reminded her of the mistake her father made when he first took command of Bravo Squad. Of course, back then, many of the members were new to a covert operations team. She turned and looked at Raillius again and looked at the last padd with the team’s dossiers on it.

"I've had experiences with Ra'yral, Jahkar, and Thompson before. I need to know the true abilities of the rest of the team. Beckett and Charretetet are the only members without SO nor SI operational experience. I want you to start off with having Jahkar run them through a gauntlet to ascertain their combat skills in the field. Then when we get to our destination, we’ll run through a holosim together so we can get an overview of what the team can do."

T’Aayla observed Commander Vree closely, noting several emotions crossing her face at the conclusion of her speech. She detected a determination, hope, some slight trepidation, and regret.  The first three were expected from someone assuming a new command, the last was not and T’Aayla wondered its source. Having spent nine years in the Rihansuu Empire and dealing with its politics, she’d learned to keep anything from showing on her face, and conversely had become very adept at reading others. Survival on ch’Rihan mandated such skills. She considered her response carefully but quickly.

“Agreed Commander, efficiency is paramount. The team is quite diverse; it will be challenging to mold them into a functional team, but as you correctly point out, it is vital for the success of any mission. I have worked with Sergeant Jahkar and Ryramorl Ra'yral before.  Both are strong warriors, but both can be emotional and temperamental. The others I have no experience with. You have read the dossier on Lieutenant Tiri Sh'avelith?”

Mayla pulled the dossier and the first thing she noticed was the last thing Sh’avelith did before coming to Starbase 450. “Just briefly.”

“She disobeyed a direct order and would have been court-martialed and sent to prison were it not for Admiral MacLeod’s intervention. We cannot have a repeat of that on this team.”

“The Admiral must have seen her past experience on the *Pandora* as an asset to help to see a broader view of these events throughout the Alpha Quadrant.” Mayla thought back to one entry in the dossier that raised a flag that may have led Sh’avelith to the decision she made on her last assignment. Section 31 operatives had the same mentality when it came to protecting the Federation. Her own father had made questionable decisions similar to Sh’avelith while on campaign, and Admiral Sorvek had intervened to skirt any direct actions against the Trill. Kyril Vree became one of his most loyal followers and believers of what Shadow Operations stood for. Even after he’d been approached several times to join Section 31 over the course of his career, he vehemently turned them down each time. Sh’avelith may similiarly be going down the same path. “We’ll keep an eye on her and maybe ascertain the reason she made the decision she made. I’m hoping after a few months we can learn to understand each other past our own perspectives and experience.”

“Very well Commander, I’ll begin work on the trust building exercise you requested.” She saluted, turned crisply and walked out the door, her movements practiced and efficient.

Mayla watched her leave and smiled satisfactorily. Raillius was very much a consummate operative. She hid a lot of herself very well. The Trill hoped she will open up a bit once the team started spending more time together. But she had no doubts in the abilities of her XO. Admiral MacLeod chose well. She hopes his track record with the rest of the team was just as good.

As she made her way to the Fearless’ operations room, T’Aayla processed multiple trains of thought simultaneously. Commander Vree was acting logically and as expected. Developing an understanding of the team’s capabilities and building an operational effectiveness, both in combat and on ship systems was standard procedure. She did tend to talk quite a bit, but she reminded herself that Starfleet was not as close-lipped as service in the Rihansuu fleet. She also was a Trill which was a very social species in general. As to her demeanor, she seemed extremely casual, doing things like unpacking in front of her. She sensed that Commander Vree was eager to do well, to please, be liked, and to accomplish the mission. It also wasn’t bad for her that Commander Vree was willing to share information casually.

She looked at the morning and afternoon training sims. All were textbook scenarios and would identify and highlight issues that needed to be corrected. A slow smile spread across her face, which she quickly quashed; she had an idea for a team building exercise that would also be very enlightening of her new team members.

The third train of thought hinged around a piece of information that Mac, Admiral MacLeod, she corrected herself, had given in the briefing. Arriving at the operations room she noted it was empty and decided to put Fearless’ data banks to the test before Commander Vree started her briefing.

Commander T'Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.23

In the empty *Fearless*’ operations room, T’Aayla ordered the doors sealed.

“Level one security clearance, Commander T’Aayla Raillius, Shadow Operations.  MaxAcc requested.”

“Confirmed.  Commander Raillius accepted.”

So far so good, T’Aayla thought, wondering just how deep her new access codes would get her into the Federation databanks. “Identify all instances involving terrorists who have been killed due to a micro-explosive implanted in the carotid artery within the past two years.”

“There have been seven instances of suspected terrorist deaths due to this manner of termination.”

“Computer, collect all sensor scans, video, audio, electromagnetic, medical, or otherwise that relate to these instances. Cross index all Starfleet, civilian, and private data collection available, including autopsy and classified security sources. Include any access to foreign government databases as well. Then commence an analysis for any indication of cause of detonation, remotely, coded, triggered, or biologically internal to the deceased. Cross index all results. Include an analysis of rotating or changing commands or causes for detonation. Also identify any other similar search attempts in all databases. Notify Commander Raillius, Shadow Ops when complete. Seal and lock this process Commander Raillius code one-one-alpha-two.

“Acknowledged.”

“Computer, unseal doors.” That done, T’aayla returned to the process of implementing Commander Vree’s  orders, developing the details for the combat and ship based training simulations.

“Colonel Jahkar, report.” She said after tapping her comm badge.

“Jahkar here.”

“Colonel, take Lieutenant Beckett and Ensign Charretetet through an evaluative combat gauntlet to ascertain their base combat and operational skill levels and prepare a report for Commander Vree and myself. Commander Vree will have us meeting in one point seven-five hours so plan your evaluation to occur after that time frame, but at the soonest possible opportunity. Raillius out.”

She then got back to developing the training sims, and her special team building exercise. Glancing around to make sure the room was still empty, she allowed a very slight smile to play at one corner of her mouth… just briefly.

Reepchip Charatetet

Ryramorl Ra'yral

*USS Fearless* War Room

Stardate 1811.23

Reepchip felt as if the admiral's eyes were on him--unlike the others, he hadn't exactly been summoned but rather sent to accompany Ryramorl.  He stood and bowed to Ian.  "The Carnora Pentarchy is an enclave in the Federation, and the wisdom amongst my people is 'A burning city spares no house.'  I am yours to command until death or, if need be, beyond."

Ryramorl's mouth quirked a bit at the Muran's response--Reepchip seemed a bit nervous at his circumstance.  After Reepchip finished speaking, Ryramorl spoke.  "I have two," he said.  "First, may I contact Shor-Ghan and let him know I have been reactivated?  And second--as a bodyguard of  an OverKing, I do have access to the Pentarchy Intelligence.  Do you think that I should use those contacts?"  He tapped on the table.  "One person they could talk to is Talsyn.  He's abided by the law in the past few years, but we all know his reputation here in the UFP.  Perhaps someone's tried to contact him."  He pondered bringing up the probe found in the Great Ring Sea as well.  In light of certain events, it seemed more ominous than before, but perhaps he was just being paranoid.

"Yes, you may tell Shor-Ghan.  I trust that you'll be discreet," responded Ian.

Ryramorl nodded. After he left the War Room, he sent a brief message to Shor-Ghan.  It simply said "Writ in effect."  With that done, it was  time to greet some of the few people he still remembered, starting with Jahkar.  He noticed Reepchip following him, and touched the Muran with his tail, inviting him to walk by his side.

He approached the Romulan/Klingon hybrid.  "Colonel Jahkar," he rumbled.  "It has been a very long time."

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.24

Jahkar was in the messhall grabbing a bite to eat when he was approached by Ryramorl and Reepchip. The Klingon/Romulan had always admired the Carnora as fierce fighters, both strong and honorable. He knew Ryramorl well, but this Reepchip – he wasn’t quite so sure of.

“It has, old friend,” Jahkar replied to Ryramorl, extending a hand in friendship. “It is good to see you.”

At that moment Jahkar’s comm-badge chirped and he tapped it in response.  “Jahkar here.”

It was Commander Raillius, or Jamie Marcus, more accurately. Jahkar had heard about Marcus and her Romulan background, but he still did not fully understand.

“Colonel, take Lieutenant Beckett and Ensign Charretetet through an evaluative combat gauntlet to ascertain their base combat and operational skill levels and prepare a report for Commander Vree and myself. Commander Vree will have us meeting in one point seven-five hours so plan your evaluation to occur after that time frame, but at the soonest possible opportunity. Raillius out.”

Jahkar raised an eyebrow and looked from Ryramorl to Reepchip, “Come on ensign, let’s get Beckett and go to the holodeck. I have a program I can run you both through. Ryramorl, I’ll catch up with you later.”

The Marine then tapped his comm-badge, “Jahkar to Beckett. Report to the holodeck in 15 minutes.”

He then led Reepchip through the ship, to their destination at the holodeck…

Lt. Tiri Sh’avelith

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.24

Tiri had been summoned to Admiral MacLeod’ ready room following the briefing in the War Room. As eager as she was to get on with this mission and be part of this team, she knew some form of punishment was due over the incident on *Pandora*…and that was likely coming now.

The only team member being called to MacLeod’s office was hardly a good thing. She prepared for the worst as he invited her to enter. She came into the room, stood at his desk with her hands clasp behind her, and said: Lt. Tiri Sh’avelith reporting as ordered, sir.”

MacLeod looked up from a datapad and looked the svelte Andorian over. He studied her a moment, then set the pad down.

“I’m going to cut through the bullshit, lieutenant and get straight to the point. You made a fool out of me when I requested you for this special duty and the day I transmit orders, you go and defy orders and kill an important prisoner on a mission. You had strict orders to bring Grak in, and he was unarmed. You murdered him, essentially. Imagine my embarrassment when I had to tell your captain that yes, I understood what you’d done and while I did not condone it, I was still transferring you to my command.”

“I apologize, admiral, but with all due respect I didn’t ask for this transfer,” said Tiri. “Therefore, it was never my intention to embarrass you.”

MacLeod raised an eyebrow, “Really? Having read your service record I had no inclination you would go and do something so rash, something so defiant to your commanding officer. I put my trust in you by requesting you for this duty, and you broke that trust – whether you wanted the transfer or not. Problem is I need you for this upcoming mission…you specifically…or I would have passed on the transfer and left you to rot in Pandora’s brig.”

Tiri looked down and collected herself. He NEEDED her? How was that so? She was an intelligence operative and she’d been in the field for some time fighting the Consortium, but she was no outstanding asset.

“Exactly what am I needed for, sir?” she asked. “I wasn’t aware Starfleet needed smart-mouthed, insolent screw-ups.”

MacLeod shook his head, “Until two days ago, when you killed Grak and ended every chance the Consortium task force had to mop up the rest of the crime organization by killing the one person who knew every secret about the organization, you were an outstanding officer. Slightly arrogant and borderline insubordinate, but nonetheless a good officer who always got the job done. What happened?”

Tiri pondered the question, still standing at attention where MacLeod had left her. She didn’t really know why she killed Grak. She just knew she wasn’t about to let him get away, not after all they’d been through. Not after all Starfleet had gone through to bring down the Consortium.

“I…I didn’t want to leave any loose ends. I didn’t want Grak to walk on some technicality. For him to cut some sort of deal that would let him get off. He was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Federation citizens, scores of Starfleet and Shadow Operations personnel,” the young Andorian stated. “I couldn’t let him get away with that.”

MacLeod flew up out of his seat, hands planted on the desk in front of him, as he leaned forward and glared at the blue-skinned girl.

“You couldn’t let him get away with that? Just WHO are you? Or better yet, WHO do you think you are?” the Scot growled. “You don’t get to make those sorts of calls. And you don’t get to decide which orders you follow and which ones you don’t. If you can’t live by the rules, then get out of Starfleet! You disobey any more orders from a ranking officer and you will be court martialed and you will be out of Shadow Ops so fast, it’ll make your head spin! Do I make myself clear, Ms. Sh’avelith?”

The Andorian gave a hurried nod, “Yes sir.”

MacLeod eased back into his chair and sighed loudly, “You are on probation. One screw up, you’re out. And you’re demoted to ensign. You want to be a lieutenant again, you’ll have to earn the rank back.”

Tiri nearly gasped aloud. She had lost her rank. She had worked so hard to get that promotion just a year ago. Now it was gone, and she was back to being an ensign. For a fleeting moment, she considered giving her resignation, but she gritted her teeth. She’d endure this and overcome the demotion.

“I understand, admiral,” she said.

MacLeod waved for Tiri to go, “Dismissed. I’ll send Commander Vree notification of your probation and demotion.”

“Sir,” Tiri said. “If I may ask, what role am I to play in this upcoming mission?” She was admittedly curious about why she was so important to the team’s mission.

“No, ensign, you may not ask,” MacLeod snapped. “You’ll be told when we reach the base and I give the main mission briefing. Now get out of my office.”

“Yes sir,” she said. After walking out of the admiral’s office, Tiri stood against the wall and fought back tears as she removed her lieutenant’s pip from her collar and slid it into her pocket. She then collected herself and set off for the messhall to get something to eat.

Capitol City, Carnor, Carnora Pentarchy

Carnor Calender Date: Drengar Departs The Skies, Roraghn Dawns, Ngagar Comes Near

Month of Presenting 12

Sentinal's Eye Travelling from the House of the River to the House of the Great Tree

Stardate 1811.24

[OOC Note on Carnor calender:
"Drengar Departs The Skies, Roraghn Dawns, Ngagar Comes Near:" The moon Drengar has just gone behind the moons' host planet and Roraghn has just appeared from behind it; Ngagar is at its closest point to Carnor.

"Month of Presenting 12"  A Turning is less than 10 hours, as The Prince of Heaven has a fairly rapid rotation.]

In a conference call with the other OverKings, Shor-Ghan read the message from Ryramorl aloud to the other OverKings.  "In other words, Shadow Operations has returned to duty."

Oregarek grunted.  "Then the situation in the United Federation of Planets must be worsening.  I'll warn the Frontier Guard--if they don't know already."

"'Feet feel shifting sand before the head does,'" quoted Rissa. "But I believe they'll take comfort in knowing we know."

"Tell them that Ryramorl and Reepchip's commanders are to be aided, should they ask," said Shor-Ghan.  Then he paused.  "Keep an eye on your sons.  Omarrena seems the kind to heroically fight a fire and get himself incinerated, and Nameless will probably wield this firebrand and burn us all."

Oregarek growled.  "I'm fully aware that if Nameless is dishonorable enough to cheat during his manhood trials, he's dishonorable enough to do anything," he said firmly.  "It's why I fostered him out to the North Ocean Tribes.  And don't worry about Omarenna.  He has a good heart, and his trainers are tempering it with humility.  He'll be fine."

Within the Turning, the Frontier Guard commanders had been contacted.  They already knew from Federation Citizens that something was going on and agreed to help Ryramorl's ship. They didn't miss the lack of details about Ryramorl's posting--and knew better than to ask for them.

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## S1, E1, Act 5 **En Route to Ops Base One**

Lt. Commander Vala Preet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.26

With the touch of a few buttons, Vala powered down the Talon class fighter. The flight was short, and she could have slipped the craft into the Fearless' docking bay blindfolded. It wasn't the first time she had boarded a Sovereign class starship. There were still a handful assigned to Starfleet Intelligence, and she regularly piloted missions from their hangar bays.

She made her way off the fighter and through the shuttle bay. MacLeod's offer was too tempting to pass up. It was just the excitement and experience that she had been unknowingly looking for. While she was mainly a pilot, she had kept up on her special ops training through the years. She had even been known to run with a few of the SI teams she had flown on missions. It wasn't often, but her combat ratings were high enough to add her to a team's compliment when needed.

Vala asked the computer where the mess hall was located. It was dinner time, and she had a feeling that's where the rest of her new team members were.

Lt. Cody Beckett & Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.26

Well, there he was. Back in Starfleet. Member of the “new” and only Shadow Operations unit. Cody felt slightly overwhelmed. He sat on the bed in his temporary quarters, staring at his collar pips with the rank of Lieutenant. He never had any field training nor experience, so he was kind of anxious of what to expect. The others all had field experience in perhaps dozens of away missions, he thought. The last time he worked for Intelligence, he had done some analytics for a few away missions. But that was about it. So, he wondered why Admiral MacLeod had chosen him to be a part of this team. Well, there was no way back now, since the Resurrection already had left Starbase 450. So, he had to make the best of it. He got up, attached the pips to his collar and went to the mess hall.

As he was sitting there, Daryl Thompson walked in. He nodded to Cody as he made his way to the replicator bin. Cody nodded back and was quickly occupied again in reading the data about the mission, in between taking bites from the sandwiches on his plate. For whatever data there was. It wasn't much.

“May I join you?” a voice snapped him out of his concentration. Thompson was standing at his table, with a plate with a large bowl of ice cream. Cody nodded, and Thompson sat down. "Nice to meet you. I am Daryl Thompson.”

Cody shook hands with Daryl. “Nice to meet you too.” Cody replied.

Daryl nodded. “You are new to this, aren't you?” Daryl asked.

Cody nodded. “Yeah, I am. I did some work for Intelligence for about a year, but mostly analytics and surveys. I served time as a science officer on board of the USS Fenrir and the USS Saratoga. But mostly to investigate space phenomena. So, I wonder why the heck MacLeod chose me to join a team of covert operatives.”

Daryl smirked “MacLeod will have his reasons” he said. “I quickly read your background. You have quite some experience in the field of mining. You know your way around in large parts of the alpha and beta quadrant, inside and outside of Federation space and you probably know a lot about the business happening outside of the Federation's grasp. Guess that might come in handy as we probably have to scour our way to obscure places and backwater planets and what not. Also, you probably know a heck of a lot more about science and space phenomena and stuff like that then the rest of us. Never hurts to have that knowledge in the team” Daryl said, in between several large spoons of ice cream.

Cody nodded…that might be true. He did have a lot of experience in that field. “But I don't have any combat training. I mean, I do know some martial arts techniques and wrestling which I picked up during the years, but no real combat training. Besides the few fights when our cargo transports were attacked by pirates” Daryl shrugged, scooping large spoons of ice cream.

“You will get enough training, don't worry about that. And if possible, we will take your lack of combat skills into account. But I think Jahkar and Vree would disagree. If Mayla resembles her father, and she does, she will make sure everyone in this team is prepared for the unprepared. She will instruct Jahkar to make sure about that. He will make a cool killer out of you” Daryl smirked.

“You know her father as well?” Cody asked. Daryl nodded.

“When I went into Shadow Ops, I was a member of Bravo Squad, led by her father, Kyril Vree. He was a good leader for Bravo Squad. We often had the odds against us. I mean, REALLY against us. And though we suffered inevitable losses, he always pulled us through. In a strange way, I am the living example of that. What Ky learned me in the years under his command, came to good use in my time at Cotath.”

“So, you were in the first SO teams ever?” Cody asked Daryl. Daryl finished his bowl of ice cream and sat back.

“Yeah, I was in Shadow Ops right from the early days. Second Training Squadron. We became a tight and smooth functioning unit. Then, during a mission I was killed and resuscitated, but somewhere in between kidnapped and replaced by a clone. A clone who led my life for over 13 years, while I was enslaved to work in the mines somewhere in the middle of friggin' nowhere, apparently under a division of Section 31 of some sorts. Why? You tell me. Was I a threat to them? A way to recruit me for their own purposes? I don't know. Eventually the clone went rogue. My best friend back then had the same faith. But he had been brought elsewhere.”

Daryl paused for a moment as he thought of Greg, his best friend back in the days…Then he continued. “Eventually they were captured, tried and put into stasis. But Section 31 didn't want to leave any traces so they killed off the clones.” Cody noticed the expression on Daryl's face hardened. “So why they didn't check in on me on Cotath and get rid of me as well is still a riddle to me. Probably things didn't go as planned or I was forgotten. Eventually, after years, I was able to escape and make my way back to Federation space. Took me a while to get adjusted again in 'normal' Federation life” Daryl finished.

Cody raised his eyebrow as he was pretty baffled by what he heard. “Sorry to hear that…You must have gone through hell mate” Cody said. “Though not imprisoned, I worked on dozens of mining missions for the family business. Gas mining in proto-nebula's, asteroid mining, ice mining on moons, but also corona mining. It was always tense when you got stuck in the filament cavities or when a coronal loop changed into a CME (Coronal Mass Ejection). The profit was worth the risk though, so I've seen my share of tense action to get out of these situations alive.”

Daryl scoffed. “Minus the torturing and threats to get killed every day.” Daryl replied.

“We had the pirates for that part” Cody stated dryly. Daryl had to laugh about that.

Cody frowned and thought about what Daryl told about his mining 'adventure'. “What mining facility was that ?” he asked.

Daryl thought for a moment. “It was on one of the inner planets of the Cotath system. The lower layers of the planet held huge amount of the more exotic metals like Ytterbite and Zircon and Plagioclase. We had to dig them up. Since the planet had quite some volcanic and seismic activity, it was always dangerous to go down. I saw a lot of the inmates die there. I was lucky to have survived that long…” Daryl stared in the distance, thinking back about the time he spent there, about the ruthless guards, the inhuman work they had to do, riots, the torturing, about his comrades, his enemies, both from which died a lot during the time there. “It was a hell back there” Daryl mumbled absently.

“I bear with you.” Cody said. “I've been there, in Cotath. Shithole from what I remember. I was pretty young when my dad brought me along on mining missions. I went there twice. I think the equipment you used was installed by engineers of our company. Strange how things work out, hey? ” Cody smiled a wry smile. “I remember it was a local mining company. Never thought about that they might enslave people or have ties to Section 31. Is the colony still there?”

Daryl shrugged. “I don't know. I escaped during a huge riot with a few others. A lot of the guards were killed. Took me about 2 months to get off the planet. Was glad I survived that long, as I didn't trust much people. Section 31 still was everywhere” Daryl played with the spoon in his bowl. “That is about 5 years ago now.” Daryl sighed. “I've never come to know what happened to the other team members of Bravo Squad while I was gone. Maybe I need to talk to Mayla about that.” Daryl pondered.

Cody was silent, as he was thinking about the whole story Daryl told him. Then an idea struck him. He looked at Daryl. “I wonder if there might be a lead from that planet to our current mission. You said Section 31 was involved. Isn't there the possibility that there still might be something?”

Daryl looked at Cody. “I don't know. But I am no very eager to go back there. But still, it might be a lead. We'll toss the idea on the table in the main mission briefing. We will see if Vree and MacLeod find it worth following.” Cody nodded, then his commbadge chirped and the low toned voice of Jahkar came through

“Jahkar to Beckett. Report to the holodeck in 15 minutes.”

“So much for the small talk ” Daryl grinned. “I think I join you in the holosim. I could use a refresher myself. Haven't been active in the field lately, so I am a little rusty.”

“Sure thing” Cody replied, and the two men made their way to the holodeck.

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless* Holodeck

Stardate 1811.26

During the assessment, Reepchip proved more capable than one might expect. His skill with a phaser was quite good, especially considering how large it was in his hands.

When it came to hand-to-hand fighting against simulated opponents, Colonel Jahkar soon discovered why Ryramorl had said what he did about Reepchip's fighting style: The tiny Carnora's style of hand-to-hand combat was based on feint and dodge, hit and run, and some downright dirty tactics. And when the opponent managed to actually get a hold of Reepchip, the Muran fought like a cornered rat, even using his teeth and claws to escape. In short, Ryramorl had the fighting instincts of a predator, but Reepchip had those of prey. One interesting thing the colonel would see--when Reepchip put on a burst of speed, he dropped to all fours to run.

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.28

Reepchip toyed with what he'd called a "Scorpion Dagger"--a weapon he'd held in his tail like a sting. His use of it had resulted in his capture when the Jem'Hadar predictably grabbed his tail and swung him into the wall.

"Yes, sir. Should I be tested wearing my..." He thought for the right word, "stilts?". He explained that when serving on Olvern or Ataran ships, Murans wore mechanical stilts so they could reach the control panels (of course, Olverns and Atarins simply couldn't fit on Muran ships), and he'd brought a pair with him. The stilts were designed to be removed in seconds, but Reepchip knew he could be surprised while wearing them.

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Fearless*, Holodeck

Stardate 1811.26

Jahkar met with Reepchip and Cody Beckett on the holodeck and introduced him to one of his Recon Marine training programs. The program was straight forward, designed to test both officers in hand-to-hand combat and melee fighting.

Both faired well at level 5. They struggled some with level 6 and 7. Eight was a bit too much, but that was to be expected. Jahkar himself had only made it as far as level 9 and it took him more than a year to beat level 8.

After gauging both officer’s performances in martial arts and melee weapons, Jahkar ran them through several training sims. The first was infiltrating a Klingon outpost to steal data files, a task both were able to complete.

Next, he sent them on a mission to sabotage a Jem’Hadar space station. They did well, but ultimately Reepchip was captured and Beckett was killed. For a two-man mission, set at a high level, their defeat was anticipated. Overall, Jahkar found they’d done a good job and gave them both high marks.

Once they were finished, Jahkar sat down with both men and went over their performances. He was impressed.

“You both did an excellent job,” he told them. “Reepchip, I will be honest, I was skeptical of your size, but you fought well and proved you are not inhibited by size. I believe you will use it to your advantage in real combat. I look forward to fighting at your size.”

The Klingon/Romulan then turned to Beckett. “You also did well. I was impressed with your fighting styles and your handling of melee weapons. I will report back to Commander Raillius that you are both fit for duty. Welcome to Shadow Operations.”

Jahkar then eased back in his chair and glanced from Reepchip to Beckett, “Any questions?”

After the training sim, Jahkar submitted his report to Vree and Raillius and then got word to meet the rest of the team in an adjoining holodeck.

Lt. Ryramorl Ra'yral

*USS Fearless* Mess Hall

Stardate 1811.30

Ryramorl entered the mess hall after talking with Jahkar. He knew Reepchip would do well--the Muran had been trained in combat back on Carnor--his only question was if Jahkar would find Reepchip's martial arts dishonorable. Then again, likely not. Jahkar had trained Marines before. He was unlikely to be that hung up on honour over survival.

He noticed an Andorian who smelled of emotional distress and a whiff of an agitated Admiral MacLeod. Also, he noticed that the lieutenant's pips she'd worn to the meeting were missing. A demotion, perhaps; he'd seen similar things in the Carnora military.

He could not remember what Starfleet protocol was for addressing the demoted.

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Fearless* Holodeck 1

Stardate 1811.30

She had sat at the Arch console of the holodeck for the past hour, waiting for the high-resolution scans to load into the holodeck’s memory quads and the computer to render them together into a program she could run and access. While she waited, she studied the profiles of her new team members, and attached personal notes to each one. Her memory of the few team members was from long ago, and they may have changed since that time due to over a decade of new experiences.

After getting an overall view of her new team’s abilities, she turned to all the data the Admiral gave her in regard to all of their contact with the rebel terrorists. There were always patterns in the universe, whether they are natural or not. One just needed to learn how to see them. And hopefully having six lifetimes of experience as a Trill (two of those in Starfleet not including her own current life) and three lifetimes of combat experience within the Linea, she may be able to glean something from the sparse data.

The computer acknowledged completion of rendering the program. Mayla got up from her chair. “Computer run program Overseer.”

In a second, she was back on the Klingon homeworld of Kronos; standing outside the entryway to the garbage tunnel Echo Team had entered through. On the ground in front of her were the two dead Klingons, each with a knife stuck in their heads where the sniper rounds had penetrated the skulls. The two were positioned in a fashion where it looked like they were fighting and stabbed each other in the head. There were at least 60 more Klingons inside, all staged to look as if they fought each other to the death.

The stronghold was large, nearly 18 rooms and a sublevel. There definitely wouldn’t be enough time for her to do this alone before they reached their new base of operations. It had created a perfect opportunity to see how her new team worked together on a simple task.

She hadn’t reprogrammed her subvocal yet to the new frequencies used on the Fearless, so she had to use her comm badge. With a short tap, she called for her team to assemble in holodeck 1.

When they filed in, they saw the barren land around them with a cliff behind them. Mayla stood at the doorway in front of the two dead klingon guards and gestured them to assemble in front of her.

“As the Admiral mentioned in the meeting, I am Commander Mayla Vree-your team leader. I have reviewed your profiles and in the coming days, we will begin to perform holosims to hone the team into a single efficient unit. I look forward to seeing everyone bring the best of their skills and abilities to accomplish any mission assigned to us.” She looked to each one of them and stopped on the tall Carnora.

Ra’yral gave her a slight smirk. “Are we already doing a holosim?” he asked, referring to the daily training sims Kyril Vree had Bravo Squad do every day. He had served with her father for several years, even throughout the Linea campaign and made it back alive. And here he was again, serving with another Vree.

Mayla smiled at the reference but shook her head. “No, Lieutenant. This was a recent mission on Kronos where this Klingon stronghold you see behind me,” she waved to the structure behind her, “housed a splinter group planning on destroying the Council chambers with all of the Klingon High Council in it. The Admiral said these rebel terrorists may be organized enough to create unrest and even terrorists’ attacks within empires of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. This is a high-resolution image scan of the entire complex after the Klingons were disposed of. As our first assignment together, I want all of us to go in and search the entire facility to look for any possible clues that may lead to any possible sources of this unrest. The leader of this group was in his chambers trying on his new ceremonial armor. He had planned on being Chancellor after the successful destruction of the Klingon High Council. It fortunately didn’t work out that way.”

She looked to each of them with confidence. “Remember, it’s just a three dimensional surface mapped image scan, so anything that wasn’t out in the open, the computer will render nothing. But it has minimally rendered items it recognized that you can move around like in a standard holodeck program. And for precision and accuracy, all of the dead klingons were also included in the scan.” She looked at her chronometer. “Let’s do this thoroughly and see if there’s anything to be found here. If there are no questions, let’s proceed inside.”

Admiral Ian MacLeod

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1811.28

MacLeod was in the captain’s chair aboard *Fearless* as the ship undocked from Starbase 350 and left the outer ring of the station. The ship gracefully accelerated out and away from the starbase and set off into space.

The admiral went over some reports on data padds and then looked to the helmsman. “Lay in a course for the Argolis Cluster, maximum warp.

“Aye sir,” a young Trill male said, tapping commands into the helm controls. “Course laid in, ready to go to warp.”

“Engage,” MacLeod told the ensign.

*Fearless* then jumped to warp and was on its way to the location of the Shadow Ops base of command. He sighed and picked up a padd which contained a report on political unrest plaguing Andoria.

“Let the team know we our on our way to the base,” MacLeod told Commander Alantris, his XO. “Our ETA is eight hours.”

Alantris nodded and opened a channel, “Bridge to Shadow Ops team. *Fearless* is en route to Ops Base One in the Argolis Cluster. Arrival in eight hours. Alantris out.”

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## S1, E1, Act 6 **The Investigation**

Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.04

As Daryl walked along the corridor with Cody on their way to the holodeck, he thought of something. “I am sorry, but I have to excuse myself for now” Daryl said to Cody. “I need to attend to a few things. Good luck with the sims, Let me know how it went, ok?”

“Yeah…uh…ok..” Cody said, a little baffled by Daryl's sudden change of mind.

Daryl stepped into the first turbolift he found and made his way to his quarters. Through it all he had forgotten to send Darva a message.

Moments later, he sat down behind the screen. He tapped his commbadge, “Lt. Thompson to Admiral MacLeod.”

A short silence fell. A female voice came in. “This is Commander Alantris. The Admiral is in conference. How can I help you?”

“I would like to open a commlink to Earth, to Darva MacGuire. She is…my partner. I didn't get a chance to send her a message earlier. Is that allowed?”

Again a short silence. “Agreed. Use SO encryption level 5. And keep it short and discrete Lieutenant. Alantris out.”

Daryl opened a secured comm channel and activated a few of his own security and tunneling protocols on his screen and contacted his apartment. It took a while, then the face of Darva appeared on screen.

“Hey…how are you doing?” she asked. she smiled.

“Hey there. Doing good here” Daryl replied. “It's good to see you.” he continued. “I couldn't call in earlier and can't call for long now. Security protocols and stuff. But I wanted to say that…” he hesitated. ”..That I won't be coming back for a while. I got an assignment from Admiral MacLeod. Shadow Operations has been reopened. He wants me on the team. I said yes.“

Darva nodded and judging the look on her face, she wasn't too happy with it. “I see. I understand. You're not the desk-job kind of type. But what about us ?” she looked at him intensely.

“I don't know, Darva. I guess we won't see each other a lot. But we talked about is the day I left. Like you said…I'm not spending my life behind a desk.” A silence fell.

“I accept your choice Daryl. It only feels…odd…A few weeks ago I learned you were still alive. Then we met. We had a few beautiful days together. And now it feels again like I lost you.” Daryl didn't know what to say and looked at the wall behind the screen, as if it would give him the words he needed.

“I am sorry, but this is what I want to do. ” he said eventually. “I'll promise you I'll call in as often as possible.” Daryl said.

“I certainly hope so” Darva whispered. “Take care of yourself Daryl. She blew him a kiss.

Daryl smiled ” Promised” he said. Then he closed the channel and sat back in his chair.

Lt. Cody Beckett

*USS Fearless*; Holodeck

Stardate 1812.05

Cody was exhausted. All muscles hurt and it felt like ages before he had caught his breath again. Jahkar had put him and the smaller Carnora through a series of holosims. Endurance, Stealth and bucket load of melee and hand-to-hand combat had been on the menu for the past hours.

Jahkar seemed satisfied as he praised Cody's fighting style. Cody had gone through some martial arts schools, and he did learn some stuff along the way, but he was surprised that he had impressed Jahkar. Maybe he should put in some more effort and become better in it. It couldn't hurt, in the light of events. "Any questions?" Jahkar asked in the end.

"I have one" Cody said. "I want to sharpen my skills. Both melee as the hand-to-hand combat. Can you help me with that, sir? "

Jahkar nodded. "I'd be more than glad to. Though your techniques are working, they are a little rough on the edges. But we can work on that. "

Cody nodded. "Thanks, Colonel"

Beckett went back to his quarter for a quick shower and a clean uniform. 15 minutes later, he walked out of his quarters again. His comm badge chirped. It was Vree who requested the whole team to the holodeck.

He arrived a few minutes later at the holodeck and listened to what Vree told. Good, their first training together. He wondered how things would go. The big Carnora jumped forward and sniffed the air over the corpses. Cody walked passed him, after the others, and entered the facility. He took his tricorder and started scanning the area.

He carefully looked around in the cave like corridor. Further on, the cave changed into a man-made corridor. It became bigger and bigger. It reminded him of the pyramid tombs of the Maya's on Earth, some 3,000 years ago. As they moved on further into the compound, the trail of dead Klingons became larger. Cody wondered if they would find anything that could help them further...

Commander Mayla Vree and Colonel Jahkar

*USS Fearless* holodeck

Stardate 1812.05

The team separated when they got inside and Mayla walked straight to the chambers where Echo Team’s target was. Striding into the room, she went straight to where the mobile computer terminal stood.

Her team had already pulled out the memory and data modules to take back with them for Starfleet Intelligence to analyze, as was the proper procedure on all their missions. She checked it over to be sure nothing was amiss before turning to the holographic representation of the dead body on the ground she had impaled with two bat’leths.

Mayla stood there for a minute, her eyes scanning over the area first before focusing on the ornate table he had been standing at when he was killed. She was looking for any clues that were outside Klingon communiques. She began to search all around the table, and then she started on the body.

Ra’yral walked in, studying the surroundings and giving the ornate style of the room a disgusted huff. He saw Mayla and walked over to her who was studying the impaled Klingon.

“Commander, I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others,” he started, and waited until she looked up at him. “But I recognize the wounds and kill style in the dining hall where over 40 brutally killed Klingons currently reside.”

Mayla turned her attention back to the Klingon and turned the body onto its side to check his armor for any family markings that may tell her what house he was from. “And where did you recognize them from, Lieutenant?”

Ra’yral knelt down and prodded the bat’leth entry location with his finger. “From your father’s holosims where we were pitted against you and your sibko during the Linea campaign.”

Mayla didn’t show any indication she knew what he was talking about. But what he said was the truth. Kyril would have done exactly that to prepare Bravo Squad to combat her sibko and those like her.

“Those were just holosims, Roar,” using the name she knew him as when she was little. “Let’s keep them fiction. And I really do appreciate you keeping your deductions on what really killed these Klingons to yourself. Everything that occurred on that campaign is still highly classified. You made the right decision not to discuss it with everyone else.”

Ra’yral gave her a gruff harumph and patted her on the shoulder. “Aye, aye, sir.” Then he changed the subject. “Did you find any markings on the armor? I’m assuming that’s what you’re looking for.”

“There are,” Jahkar said from the doorway, stepping through a pool of Klingon blood. “But not one I recognize.”

Mayla motioned him to come over and look at the dead Klingon leader. “He was the leader, and the markings on his ceremonial armor is slightly different from the guards.”

He strode over to the dead Klingon leader and saw the stylized crest on the chest plate. He had to do a double take, because it was not a crest he would have expected to see here -- or anywhere. He knelt beside the dead Klingon and examined the crest more closely.

"Kahless' Beard! This cannot be. This is the crest of the House of K'hmal. It should not be here...are you certain this is an accurate representation?"

Before Mayla could answer, the half-Klingon, half-Romulan moved to another body and looked at the slightly different crest on that warrior's armor, now recognizing it for what it was. "This is a dead house. The House of K'hmal fell more than 20 years ago, during the Federation-Klingon War that preceded the Dominion War. The leader of the house at that time was General Krang...the war criminal. He led an attack on several colonies in the Arcanus Sector and butchered everyone there. He was hunted down by Captain LaVictorie of the USS Forrestal and was captured.

"When word of his surrender and imprisonment by the Federation reached Qo'noS, Gowron and High Council stripped him of his title, his holdings and house. He was disavowed by the Klingon government and to this day remains in a Federation prison."

Jahkar looked up at his commanding officer, "These Klingons are ghosts, Commander. There is no other way to describe them."

Mayla studied the mek’leth still in its sheath. On the pommel was the same crest as the one on the armor. “The Klingon High Council knew this splinter group existed. They were the ones who sanctioned all this.” She waved a hand to encompass the entire facility. “It would be interesting to know if the High Council knew who these Klingons really were.” She looked over at the computer terminal where her team had taken the memory quads. “Starfleet Intelligence has the data from that computer terminal, maybe there might be something else there too.”

Lt. Commander Vala Preet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.06

Vala wasn't a crime scene investigator, but she knew immediately where her skills would be useful. She brushed past the Carnora who were sniffing and rifling through the dead bodies. Beckett had taken off through one of the sets of tunnels, and Jahkar had gone the other way. Everyone seemed to be breaking up. Divide and conquer seemed to be the way to go.

She asked Vree for directions to the hangar bay before proceeding through the maze of tunnels. Once there, she took stock of a small fleet of vehicles residing inside. There were a half dozen or so fighters. Each one was armed to the gills. Quantum torpedoes, multiple phaser banks, sub-warp engines. They were maneuverable, quick vehicles, but they weren't one thing. They weren't Klingon made.

Vala scanned her tricorder over the nearest ship. The markings on the hull may provide some clues as to where these fighters had come from. They were an amalgam of parts from different cultures. The engines were Federation prototypes that she recognized from a few years ago. The hull was Andorian. She wandered over to one that had an open door and looked inside. It had been set up for Klingon usage, but was obviously Romulan in origin. It was like a perfect union of parts made up into an ultimate fighter. The Black Market sale value on these had to be through the roof. Who had enough knowledge...No, who had enough ability to puzzle these parts together to build these ships?

Her tricorder beeped. She'd need to go to astrometrics to finalize the micro-particle analysis. Maybe something that was adhered to hulls of these ships could clue the team into where they had been before coming to the Klingon base.

Ensign Reechip Charatetet

*USS Fearless*, Holodeck 1

Stardate 1812.06

Reepchip moved with the group and, like Ryramorl, sniffed the air from time to time. His large ears kept moving as he tried to hear what was around him. As they headed down the corridor, he raised his muzzle--then Ryramorl tapped him on the shoulder, then made some gestures. Reepchip saluted, then turned to Mayla Vree and saluted her.

"Commander," he said softly. "Asking permission to use echolocation, sir."

Ensign Tiri Sh'avelith

*USS Fearless*/Klingon Holosim

Stardate 1812.07

The Andorian officer roamed the floor of the Klingon structure they were currently on and she scanned the dead Klingons to determine how they were killed. Consistently tricorder readings determined death was either caused by disruptor fire, bladed weapons or sheer blunt force trauma.

Tiri would have liked to have known more, but that would have required an autopsy of these Klingons. From these holographic representations she could not tell if any poisons or toxins were used.

She knelt over one of the slain Klingons and viewed his injuries up close. This victim appeared to have died from a bat’leth wound to the chest. The point of the weapon had pierced his armor and ribs, impaling his heart.

Seeing nothing special about the corpse, Tiri moved on to the next. She investigated four dead bodies in all before she came across something of interest. She found a tattoo on the face on one of the Klingons who had attacked this place and it was unique, as far as she could tell.

“Commander,” she called to Mayla Vree. “Nothing unusual about the ways in which these Klingons died. But I did find something on this Klingon. A tattoo. None of the others are wearing one like it. It appears to be…unique.”

Back to top

## S1, E1, Act 7 **Attack!**

Lieutenant Ryramorl Ra'yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless* Holodeck

Stardate 1812.08

Ryramorl looked up from where he was trying to peer under the bed. "I'll have him bark under here," he responded.  "I think he could also tell if one surface is different from another--for example, a false walll--but that wouldn't come up here."  He keyed his Comm unit.  "Ensign Reepchip Charatetet, I need you.  In the commander's chambers."

Before long, Reepchip showed up and saluted.  "Honored Sir," he said.

"Bark under here, see what you find," Ryramorl said.

Reepchip poked his head under.  He made a series of clicks, and from time to time his body jerked as if he were barking, though his voice was way beyond human hearing--though judging from the twitch in Ryramorl's ears, it wasn't beyond his.

Reepchip looked up at Mayla. "Permission to enter this space, sir?"

When Mayla gave him permission, Reepchip quickly scurried under the bed to have an up-close look under there as Ryramorl continued searching the rest of the room, including where it appeared the Klingon leader had stored his armour.

Commander T'Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless* Holodeck

Stardate 1812.08

T'Aayla made her way through the holosim, noting the quality of the recording. It had indeed been high end surveillance scans that had recorded the video to recreate the space they now traversed.

Of course, things like scents and textures would only be approximations, and she noted some gaps in the recording where it appeared that the holosim program had filled in areas that had been missed by the scan with the most likely terrain, or patch of wall, or covering of rock.

She nodded in appreciation, the Federation had spared no expense to outfit the strike team. High end recording equipment indeed. She retraced the assault in her mind, appreciating the efficient and deadly accuracy of the attack.

Her priority, however, was observing the team, watching them attempt to glean information.

They had mostly gone off on their own pursuits with little planning or organization. This time it was all right because the sim was meant to not only provide clues that multiple reviews had missed, but also to provide some insight into the various team members. Interesting she noted.

She wondered if anyone would run different lighting levels in the sim, often visual cues only became apparent during bright light, moonlight, shadow, or even ultraviolet light. Everyone was also operating on the plane of the terrain, very two-dimensional; no one had bothered to launch a drone for an aerial view. She'd have loved to pilot a small craft to look around, just to give herself an excuse to fly a fighter again, but the holodeck wouldn't accommodate a static terrain and a quickly moving craft.

She'd hold off on her ideas to see if anyone else on the team thought of them and headed over to the hanger where the fighters were kept. She tried very hard to keep a straight face as she passed "Big Bear" sniffing and and "Baby Bear" chirping.  She had worked with the big variant of Carnora before, but had never quite gotten used to them, or their scent, but they did come in handy- especially when dismemberment was called for.  Entering the hanger bay, she noted another team member, Lieutenant Commander Preet, was already there.  Ah, the other small craft pilot, she smiled. This might be interesting.

Commander Mayla Vree

Klingon stronghold, *USS Fearless* holodeck

Stardate 1812.13

As she stood there and watched Jahkar study the Klingon leader’s body armor some more, Mayla thought back to Charatetet’s request to use echolocation. An ability like that would come in handy sometimes to ‘see’ things when they don’t have the time to do a thorough search. For now, his use of echolocation would only give him whatever information is available when the imagers mapped the area. But she had given him the go ahead and give it a try. It would be interesting to find out what he found.

Her comm badged chirped. “Sh'avelith to Commander Vree, nothing unusual about the ways in which these Klingons died. But I did find something on a Klingon. A tattoo. None of the others are wearing one like it. It appears to be…unique.”

She tapped her comm badge. “Alright, I’m sending Jahkar over to take a look.” She gave him an SO hand signal and he returned with an affirmative before stepping out.

She then opened a channel to the whole team. “Make certain you record anything you find so we can submit it together to the Admiral for dissemination.” After that, she took out her tricorder and used the visual recorder to take images of the crest of the armor, and the one the mek’leth.

Ra’yral was searching the rest of the room with her, looking behind curtains and under the bed.

“Charatetet’s has an echolocation skill, how could that help us here?” Mayla asked Ra’yral.

Instead of answering her, he called to Charatetet and began to browse around the room to show her what the skill can offer in a situation like this.

Colonel Jahkar

Ensign Tiri Sh'avelith

*USS Fearless* holodeck

Stardate 1812.17

Jahkar arrived in the room where Tiri knelt over the body of a Klingon and he nodded to her. He hadn’t had a chance to speak with the ensign before, so this would serve as their introduction.

“What do you have here, ensign,” he asked.

The Andorian used her hands to turn the dead Klingon’s head to the side, fully exposing the tattoo. “Computer. Increase lighting 50 percent.” The dark chamber suddenly became better illuminated and the tattoo was now visible.

“I’ve never seen a Klingon with a face tattoo,” said Tiri.

“It is not common, but it happens,” said Jahkar as he inspected the piece of artwork. As he studied it, his brow furrowed. “This is not artwork. It is not so much a tattoo as it is something this Klingon was marked with by someone else.”

Tiri frowned, “Like a brand?”

Jahkar nodded, “It is a mark given to an individual, usually in Klingon Intelligence, who has failed at a mission. Something to the effect of being captured by the enemy, bringing dishonor upon himself or upon his House.”

With the increased lighting, Jahkar surveyed the room, “I would say what you have here is someone disavowed by the Klingon government. And he is not of the same House as the Klingons I was looking at. The emblem on his armor is different.”

Tiri recorded everything Jahkar had explained and she took close-up images of the tattoo on the dead Klingon. Once finished, she and Jahkar started back to the rest of the group.

*USS Fearless*

Holodeck

Stardate 1812.19

No more evidence was found, at least nothing as telling as the emblems on the armor and the tattoo on the face of one of the Klingons. The team assembled back in the main chamber of the stronghold and was about to end the session when suddenly, all hell broke loose.

There was an explosion that rocked the ship and the holographic facsimile of the Klingon stronghold suddenly dissolved into the holodeck of the *Fearless*. Alarm klaxons blared around them and the ship continued to quake around them.

“All hands to battle stations!” came the voice of Admiral MacLeod over the ship’s comm system. “We’re under attack!”

Back to top

## S1, E1, Act 8 **Loss**

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Fearless* holodeck

Stardate 1812.19

Mayla balanced herself when the ship lurched to one side without any warning. She looked around and her team was all there ready to bolt for the door after MacLeod’s announcement.

“Jakhar, take the Carnoras and augment security in case we are boarded. Have someone get us some weapons.

“Railius, take Thompson and Beckett and secure engineering.

“Preet, is your fighter armed in any way?”

“Armed enough,” Preet promptly answered.

“Get to the shuttlebay and prep for launch in case the ship needs air support. Sh’avelith, you’re with me. We’ll be on the bridge. If there are no questions, on your way everybody.”

The Andorian followed Mayla quickly as they ran to the bridge. Another strike rocked the ship, causing everyone in the hallway to lurch to the right. Sparks flashed across the hall accompanying falling ceiling panels. The pair didn’t let that stop them as their focus was to get to the Bridge.

“Someone attacked us while we were in warp,” Sh’avelith said, coming up to running speed again with Mayla.

“Makes you think about how they were able to track us in the first place.” Both women jumped into a turbolift just as the doors were closing. “Bridge!”

“And they knew where we were going.” Sh’avelith said as she hung on to the rail, preventing herself from being flung across the lift.

“Someone was watching us at the station, and someone here knows where we are going.” Mayla said in a calm calculating tone. “This can’t be a random attack.”

“That is an astute deduction.”

The turbolift doors opened to the bridge.

“Rotate the shield modulation to the port side,” MacLeod ordered. “Swing us about and get that ship in the sweet spot for a full barrage.”

Mayla and Sh’avelith stood to one side, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice if any of the Bridge crew needed any assistance.

Ensign Tiri Sh’avelith

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.19

The Andorian was scared. She’d been in a number of boarding actions and away missions where there had been combat, but she’d never been in a ship-to-ship battle. Tiri was too young to have served in the Klingon and Dominion conflicts – the last serious wars the Federation had been in.

She noted how calm Commader Vree was and she drew from her commanding officer’s demeanor as they arrived on the bridge and saw the crew engaged in battle. Tiri was both terrified and amazed at how an experienced crew performed in a combat operation.

Not long after they arrived on the bridge, there was an explosion against the hull of the ship and a console at the aft of the bridge exploded, sending a crewman reeling from his chair with plasma burns on his face and right arm.

Tiri grabbed an emergency med-kit from near the turbolift doors and ran over to the fallen crewman who was screaming in pain. She knelt down and went to work, administering medical assistance to the injured man.

“Just hang on,” she told him. “This will dull the pain until I can get you to sickbay.”

Lt. Ryramorl Ra'yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless* Holodeck

Stardate 1812.19

Reepchip froze--he had no assignation, no idea even where to begin.

Ryramorl turned to him and barked something in his own language--which apparently meant something like "stay with me" as in a flash, Reepchip was perched on the bigger Carnora's shoulders, his long tail wrapped around Ryramorl's chest.

Right now, Ryramorl was wishing he had worn his battle armour, even though this was just a holosim.  He turned to Mayla.  "Is there an assigned place I must be at, and do you wish me to don my armour, ma'am?" he asked.  He knew Reepchip could help him with that.

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.19

Jahkar stepped in as the Carnora started asking questions. Reepchip, he knew, had no experience aboard a Starfleet ship and Ryramorl hadn’t been on a Federation vessel in years. He’d have to keep them both close by and focused.

“Come with me,” he told them. “We’ll arm ourselves at the weapons locker and prepare to repel boarders.”

They then set off for the ship’s armory to suit up for the possible invasion of the ship.

Lt. Commander Vala Preet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.19

Vala ran from the holodeck the minute Vree gave the order to man the Talon class fighter. There was no guarantee she was going to be needed, but it was always handy to have an extra set of weapons in a fire fight.

She stumbled in the hallway as the ship lurched from another torpedo hit. Vala glanced off the wall but kept her feet under her. Whoever was attacking the Fearless was not holding back. She made it to the launch bay at double time pace. The flight crew already had her ready to go. The back door was open, and the ship was cycling through the startup commands.

"Computer, shut the rear hatch and prep for launch." Vala landed in the pilot's seat with a thump. With long practiced hands, she buckled into the seat. You couldn't always trust the inertial dampeners in a firefight.

"Preet to Bridge. The fighter is manned and ready for launch on your command."

MacLeod's voice came over the comm. "Launch the fighter on the next cycle through the ship's shield phase modulation."

"Acknowledged." When the command came from tactical, she had a three count to get the ship out of the shuttle bay. She passed through the ship's shields and out into the darkness of space. A Romulan warbird was off to the port side. Its shields were intact, and it was firing rapid bursts of phaser fire.

Vala steered towards the large ship hoping to gain their attention. She dodged through phaser fire and began looking for a tactical advantage. Over the comms, she heard MacLeod giving commands to the Bridge crew while getting reports from Tac 1 and Tac 2. The Warbird was starting to take evasive maneuvers across the battlefield. Its fore shields had dropped to 75 percent.

She locked onto the weakened spot and concentrated her own phaser fire as a slew of quantum torpedo from the Fearless hit the same area of shielding. It flickered for a moment, and Vala took a chance. She steered the fighter right through the gap in the shields. The Talon class fighter made its first past over the Warbird taking aim at the shield generators and a second pass hit the forward phaser banks. With well-practiced moves, she guided the ship back across the bow and out of range. She whizzed past the Fearless, banked, and started another run towards the Warbird.

"Shields are down." Came over the comms.

"Disable or destroy, Captain?" She asked as her fingers flew over the weapon's console.

Admiral Ian MacLeod

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.19

MacLeod heard, "Shields are down." over his comms.  "Disable or destroy, Captain?" She asked as her fingers flew over the weapon's console.

*Fearless* buckled with another heavy barrage of phaser fire, he started to respond, but the Warbird cloaked out of existence.

“Dammit you had a chance, now they’ve cloaked!  Helm…” MacLeod was about to give another order when another Warbird, materialized off of Fearless’ other quarter and unleashed a massive barrage into her stern.   The ship shook and rolled partially to one side, sending anyone who wasn’t seated unceremoniously to the floor.

“Sir, rear shields are down….”

“Helm, 120 mark...” MacLeod didn’t get the order out before another wash of Romulan disruptor fire shot through the stern of the *Fearless*.  This time even the seated people didn’t remain seated.

“Damage report!!”  MacLeod ordered, thinking “These ships are packing even more firepower than a traditional Romulan Warbird.”

“Sir, they’ve taken out the main warp energizer coupling.  We won’t be able to go to warp.”

“Dammit” MacLeod swore again, these ships were packing a heavy punch.  Any single Warbird would be a match for *Fearless*, but two… or were there more?

“Evasive, keep our stern away from them.  Reinforce shields in that area.  Send out a message to any nearby Starfleet vessels that we are under attack.”

“Aye Aye sir!”    Seconds ticked by, “Sir no Federation ships are closer than 30 minutes away at maximum warp.”

“We’ll be catfood before they get here.  We’re on our own.” MacLeod growled, “As bloody usual.”

Lt. Daryl Thompson & Lt Cody Beckett

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.20

Both Daryl and Cody hit the bulkhead hard, but quickly got on their feet again. Daryl cursed under his breathe. He hadn't quite expected to be.in action this soon. They made their way to deck 12 and armed themselves with handphasers and continued their way to engineering. Another hit, not as heavy as the one before, but bulkhead panels came off the wall due to a series.of explosions and flew through the air in concert with a rain of sparks and glowing plasma. All 3 evaded the panels, but Beckett was hit by.some sparks and.grunted.

"You ok?" Daryl asked as they dashed to the corridor.

"Yeah, yeah" Beckett said in a grimace, his face a fiery red on one side. They reached engineering, where the Chief was yelling commands. The warp core was still intact, but several subsystems were damaged. Two officers were wounded.....

Commander T’Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.20

T'Aayla quickly scanned engineering with the practiced eye of someone who had been in a lot of ship to ship actions, her eyes taking in the situation at a glance.

*Fearless* had been hit and hit hard.  The crew were younger and somewhat inexperienced, and she detected the beginning look of fear characteristic of the dawning realization one had when they were in a fight they might not win, and the ramifications of that result.

She also noted that the main warp energizer coupling had been taken offline. Without it, Fearless's boundless warp energy could not be sent to her warp engines. With the hits they were taking, escape was the prudent choice.

*Fearless* could put her warp power into the shields and phasers but it was a toe-to-toe slogging match against superior enemy power; one which Fearless was bound to lose. Without maneuverability, it was simple math. She's understood that there were two D'deridex class warbirds attacking, each of which was a match for *Fearless*, and she knew Rihansuu never attacked without knowing there was a sure chance of victory.

She suspected there was another ship cloaked, ready to deliver the coup de gras. *Fearless* was hit with another blast, sending people to the deck and a blast of warp core coolant into engineering.

Warning klaxons sounded, as the deadly gas started to fill engineering. Evacuation was not an option.  *Fearless* would surely die if engineering was evacuated. Crew started running to escape the doors that were slowly starting to close to seal off engineering.

“Stand your posts,” T’Aayla ordered, hitting the manual closure switch next to the door they had just entered.  It sent all the doors down instantaneously in a whoosh. “We do not leave.” Crew hesitated but given that they were now sealed in engineering with no chance of escape, their resolve hardened, and they remained at their posts.

"Thompson, pull the manual shutoff to the warp core coolant,” she ordered indicating an area of engineering that had already been flooded with the gas.  Masks were no protection since the gas affected every pore on one’s body.  Given that Daryl would have to use significant muscle to pull the release manually, she knew he’d be exposed, and her order was a death sentence for him.   She only hoped his discipline was enough to follow it.  For her part, it took a reserve of nerve to give the order, but there really wasn’t any other chance for *Fearless*.

Her other decision would also result in a death, but that command was easier, since it would be hers.

“Beckett, with me,” she yelled as she sprinted toward the warp core energizer coupling chamber.   It was of course filled with seeping radiation from the rupture.   Beckett might not live long enough inside it to get the coupling replaced, but with her Rihansuu physiology she could.  “Beckett, activate this control here.” She pointed, indicating a manual control on a panel just outside the room.   “If we can get the mains online, *Fearless* will have a chance to escape.”

“You’ll die in there.” Beckett shouted.

“We’ll all die, if we sit here and slog it out with those Warbirds.  I know those ships, I’ve fought them before and I’ve fought on them before. There’s no other choice.”

“But it’s suicide!”

“For both of us, but you need to last long enough outside with the gas to activate the controls.  I’ll do my part, will you do yours,” she asked her eyes boring through him.

Lieutenant Ryramorl Ra'yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.23

When the trio reached a weapons locker, Jahkar and Ryramorl took out phasers, then Ryramorl took an extra one for Reepchip.  The three then joined security, many of whom looked nervous.  The simple stern presence of Jahkar and Ryramorl--clearly experienced soldiers--bolstered their morale.  At any other time, Reepchip's phaser might have seemed comically large in his paws, but not now, not when all hell was breaking loose.

Admiral Ian MacLeod

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.23

The new Warbird blasted the Talon-class fighter after it hit *Fearless* with its opening barrage. The disruptors pounded the smaller ship and buckled her shields, inflicting damage upon her engines. The vessel piloted by Preet tumbled on past the Warbird, which continued to drive straight at the Fearless.

A barrage of plasma torpedoes and disruptor blasts pummeled the *Fearless*, the hits scoring a direct hit on the ship’s saucer-section. The shields there collapsed and a torpedo slammed into the Fearless’ bridge.

On the bridge, the hit was being reported just as it ripped through the command center of the Sovereign-class vessel. The main viewscreen and the bulkhead around it suddenly disappeared, blowing outward into space. Several bridge crew members were sucked out with the explosion, as well as the man seated in the captain’s chair.

Vree and Sh’avelith were looking as the hull breach occurred and both watched MacLeod yanked out of his chair as he was blown into space. Sh’avelith lost her grip too and was pulled along with the crewman she’d been treating, and both were hurled at the void into space.

The crewman cleared the breach and was thrown into the vacuum, but by some miracle Sh’avelith slammed into the forcefield that fortunately descended over the massive hole in the bridge.

Right after the Andorian fell to the deck with a thud, the officer at the tactical station, looked around frantically and yelled out his report, “Hull breach, bridge! Shields failing! The Warbird is coming back around for another pass!”

With MacLeod gone and Commander Alantris, his second-in-command, absent from the bridge, the eyes of the remaining crew members fell upon Mayla Vree…

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## S1, E1, Act 9 **Turning the Tables**

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Fearless* Bridge

Stardate 1812.23

Mayla had seen death many times. There was a time to mourn, there was a time to cry. This was a time for neither. It was a time to survive.

When the bulkhead blew out, she knew immediately there were going to be casualties. The forcefields wouldn’t go up fast enough to prevent everyone within 10 meters to be sucked out into the cold vacuum of space.

But as soon as the forcefields did finally activate, miraculously saving Sh’avelith, she instantly took note which critical stations were now vacant. Other than the admiral, the helmsman was also gone. She leaped towards the helm before the environmental controls started recirculating the air. Just as she sat down, she saw out of the large breach in front of her the warbird was coming around for another pass. Mayla’s hands danced on the console and using a burst on the impulse engines, propelled the ship towards the warbird, inside it’s turn radius. “Tactical, fire photon torpedoes, full spread ahead of that warbird!”

The tactical officer wasn’t fast enough to do the calculations in his head and blindly fired the torpedoes ahead of the moving warbird. The spread fired wide, but it caught the warbird by surprise and it juked away from its attack run. It bought them perhaps a few seconds.

She opened a channel to the rest of the ship while reconfiguring the panel to her own preferences. “This is Commander Vree on the Bridge. The Admiral is gone. I’m taking command of the ship.” With one look at the ship’s propulsion systems status, she knew they could be in a losing battle. Without the warp drive, they can’t outrun several warbirds. In fact, she didn’t even think they could run from them. The warbirds attacked while they were in warp. If they ran, they would just be attacked again. So they couldn’t run. They had to stand their ground.

“Engineering, reroute warp power to the shields and weapons array. I want our shields at full strength and phaser banks recharge time to the absolute fastest.”

“Shuttle Bay, prep all shuttles for launch, and anything that can be piloted remotely. Tether all systems to Lieutenant Preet in the Talon fighter.” Her hands flew across the console and used all of the ship’s thrusters to pivot the ship to aim towards where Preet was flitting about with her nimble fighter.

“Lieutenant Ra’yral, I need eggs for a Nested Egg maneuver on the double,” she ordered with a tight lipped determination. “Notify Tactical as soon as you get each one ready.” She just hoped he remembered that maneuver from his stint with Bravo Squad to beam in armed photo torpedoes into an enemy’s ship. He just needed to get to the torpedo bay and manually arm them from a local terminal.

“Tactical, once Ra’yral signals you the readiness of the torpedoes, you beam them into any warbird whose shield is down. Preferably in their engineering spaces, or the bridge.

“Lieutenant Preet, Fearless tactical will use you to target the warbirds. Use the shuttles and sweep the area. Once you find a cloaked ship, we will release a full barrage on those coordinates. If you have to, ram the warbirds with the shuttles to bring down their shields.” That’s when Mayla saw Sh’avelith pull herself up onto her feet.

“Sh’avelith, I want you to configure the sensors inside every bank of escape pods to show lifesigns in them, and on my mark eject them all at the same time.” Filling the space with escape pods levels the playing field. If they can’t maneuver, neither can the enemy.

“All hands, brace for evasive maneuvers,” Mayla now calmly said. Her skills and memories from her father flowed through her as she took in everything that was happening around the ship. The warbirds knew exactly when to attack them while at warp. They were in a void of space that was absent of any star systems, planetoids, asteroids, nebulae, or even a gaseous cloud. There was no where they could hide. But there was one thing they didn’t see coming.

It was a comet. It was a bit farther than the fringe of their battlespace, about 5 light minutes away, but Mayla thinks they could make it.

She opened a new console that gave her tactical status. There were at least two D'deridex class warbirds circling them. They were now both cloaked. She entered coordinates to the comet and went to full impulse power. She brought up the detailed schematics for a D'deridex class warbird and pinpointed a particular section at a forward end of the spine and sent it to Preet and Tactical.

“If you have the opportunity, target this area. A strike there should sever all bridge commands to the rest of the ship. It might buy us some time.”

“Aye,” Preet answered, not questioning her CO for a moment. She was now busy setting up a blanket pattern for the shuttles as each one was being tethered to her. “Are we making a run for the comet?”

“Yes, it’s the only thing around.”

“How do you know where to fire at on the warbird, Commander?” The man at Tactical asked.

“I know someone who served on one before. Keep alert, they could-”

“Warbird decloaking off our port quarter! They’re firing!”

Mayla’s hands were already moving as soon as he interrupted her. She opened up all the thrusters on the starboard side and rolled the ship hard to port. The inertial dampeners didn’t keep up and they all felt the g-forces of the maneuvers. Alarms blared at her as the structural integrity of the ship was pushed to dangerous limits with all the hull breaches screaming to tear apart. But this time, none of the disruptor fire hit them.

“Escape pods ready,” Sh’avelith announced just as the ship stopped its roll.

Mayla watched the sensors to see which vector the warbird was going to take, or if it was going to cloak. It didn’t. It started to move into position at their aft to fire on their defenseless rear. “Launch all starboard side escape pods.”

“Launching!” Sh’avelith said.

Mayla barrel rolled the ship slowly as all 40 of the escape pods once free from the saucer section of the ship began to fire thrusters to slow down, increasing their velocity hurtling towards the pursuing warbird. “Prepare to fire aft quantum torpedoes, orbital spread on my command.” She watched the sensors as it glitched for just a moment, she calculated the time the warbird will see the hurtling pods approaching it and need to veer to one side to avoid being struck.

It didn’t veer, it fired its disruptors and in one blast destroyed a dozen pods. As each pod was reading as having lifesigns, destroying them went beyond the conventions of battle. They were here to destroy them entirely, not to capture.

“Fire.” Mayla ordered before the warbird could destroy any more of the pods.

Commander T’Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.23

The Romulan ship didn't veer from its course, instead taking the full force of the Fearless's barrage in it's reinforced forward shields. They flared bright white, but didn't buckle. Ignoring *Fearless* it blasted the remaining lifepods, then shimmered back into cloak, presumably to reinforce it's forward shields. The other Warbird in turn shimmered into existence and moved to intercept the *Fearless*, it's weapon points glowing hot.

"Sir?" an ensign at the undestroyed science station announced hesitantly.

"What is it ensign, we're kinda busy here.  Sound off" Vree responded.

"Sir, I got a quick scan into that Warbird that had it's shields down for second... Sir I analyzed the life sign readings... they included a mix of Human and Orion, as well as Romulan."

"What the?" Vree started but didn't have a chance to finish.

The feared for, and third, Warbird materialized directly under Fearless, and bathed the Federation ship in fire.

"Shields up, evasive" Preet immediately ordered, as the poor Federation ship was buffeted back and forth.

"Sir!, I've restored shields," the acting tactical officer announced. 'Wait...I've got multiple boarders. They must have gotten through when the shields went down. I've got boarders on deck two below the bridge, deck six near auxiliary control and outside engineering.  They knew just where to beam in!"

"The warp core is about to go, if the energizer doesn't come online in 30 seconds, we're going to blow. The other systems can't take the power loads and are causing a feedback loop into the warp core. Without the coolant system, we can't keep running at these levels for long," the crewman manning the engineering station at the side of the bridge announced.

In front of them, the cold blackness of space stared at them just a lost forcefield away....

Lieutenant Ryramorl Ra'yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.23

When the trio reached a weapons locker, Jahkar and Ryramorl took out phasers, then Ryramorl took an extra one for Reepchip.  The three then joined security, many of whom looked nervous.  The simple stern presence of Jahkar and Ryramorl--clearly experienced soldiers--bolstered their morale.  At any other time, Reepchip's phaser might have seemed comically large in his paws, but not now, not when all hell was breaking loose.

Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Fearless,* Engineering

Stardate 1812.24

“Thompson, pull the manual shutoff to the warp core coolant” Commander Raillius ordered him. Daryl shortly nodded. Though luck. Pushing the thoughts away, he jumped to the nearest console and raised a containment field around the section of the rupture. Then he opened the vents at maximum to get the deadly gas out. At least not the whole engineering room would be flooded.

From his utility belt, he grabbed a tiny device he planted under his nose. The nanotech in it activated, and within a second a small but effective gasmask had been wrapped over his nose and mouth. The odds where still bleak, but at least it would buy him some time as his lungs would be protected against the coolant gas. He tapped on his wristpadd, and remodulated the personal cloak to match the rotation frequency of the containment field, effectively changing it into a personal shield. It wouldn't help much against the gases, but at least he could slip through the containment field without deactivating the containment field.

“I'm going in” he addressed Beckett and Raillius.

“Good luck” he heard Beckett say.

“You too” he replied and gave a thumbs up towards Beckett, who got the tedious task to go into the room to fix the rupture together with Raillius.

Daryl stepped through the containment field, just as the *Fearless* was hit by another volley. The whole engineering shuddered like there was an earthquake, the lighting shimmered, and more explosions around them. An engineer yelled that more subsystems where going offline. More alarms started to blare. A plasma conduit ripped open and hot plasma erupted from it. One of the engineers standing next to it was hit and evaporated and was gone within seconds. The hot plasma burned through everything until Lt. Commander Gomez, chief of Engineering erected another containment field, which stopped the pouring of the plasma.

Daryl made his way to the manual override. He felt how the gas slowly started to react with his skin. Within minutes, he would be severely burned, as the gas would eat it's way through the upper tissue layers of his skin. He had to be quick. He got into the section where the manual override was, and removed the panel, revealing a whole series of valves. Another alarm blared and the computer's voice stated emotionless .

“Warp core temperature rising. Structural integrity failure of Matter/Anti-Matter Reaction Assembly imminent.”

“How are you doing, Lt. Thompson?” He heard the calm voice of Raillius coming over the subvoc.

“Found the valves. Shutting them down now. Feeling like I partied too long on the Lohlunat festival on Risa” Daryl replied. He started feeling dizzy and nauseous as the gas had entered his veins. He ran a scan with the tricorder, to see which valves needed to be closed and started closing them. There where 5 of them that needed to be closed. The first 3 where heavy, but not a real problem. the 4th seemed to be stuck. The fifth went ok as well. Back to the valve that got stuck. He pulled with all the strength he could muster, and he felt how the valved slowly moved…then got stuck again. Daryl looked around. He needed something he could use for more leverage. He looked aorund him, but didn't see anything that could help him. His vision started to become blurry and his movements started to feel sluggish. He guessed he about a minute or so before he would pass out.

He focussed and grabbed the handle of the last valve and pulled once more with all the strength he had. Finally, the valve came up, and Daryl was able to turn it around close the lines behind it. He tried to get up, but fell on his hands and knees. Crawling, he made his way out of the contained section.

He was halfway trough the containment field, as he was pulled through and on his feet. A medic team had been called in by Gomez, and Daryl felt the pressure of hyposprays and immediately he felt better. The blurred vision disappeared and the dodgy feeling in his limbs faded away.

“That was close” the medic said. “You need to be treated in sickbay…”

Daryl cut him off “No time. I need to help here. Give me something against the pain. ” The medic shook his head, and grabbed another hypo.

“There you go” he said, while he administered a dose of painkillers to Daryl.

“Thanks. Stay here. You are needed shortly” Daryl stated to the medic. “Commander Raillius, Beckett, I closed the valves \*and\* survived. Do you need help ?” Daryl awaited their reply....

Commander T'Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.24

T'Aayla stood outside the warp core energizer chamber and calmly awaited the five second countdown to the door opening. She'd donned a protective radiation suit to lessen the radiation exposure, which would give her more time to effect repairs.  She would have slid in immediately, but she observed Lt. Beckett's decision to trade time for the ship with time to give them a better chance at survival within the chamber. The door slid open and she immediately entered and keyed the switch to close it behind her.  She saw Beckett waiting at the control console outside the chamber through the clear plexiglass containment. The ship took another huge blow, and Cody was tossed aside, as was Raillius. Sparks and explosions where all around them.

"Are you ok?" she heard Beckett ask.

"Affirmative,." she responded, and then quickly ran a diagnosis of the damage.  It was bad.  The coupling hadn't just been damaged, it had been fried.  She tapped her commbadge, "Stores, I need a warp energizer coupling immediately. Ship-to-ship beam." She got to work disengaging the blown coupling as she waited for stores to beam the part to her.  It would be a tricky beam-in with the radiation interference, but as it was an inanimate object she hoped that the transporter operator was skilled, and that ship's stores hadn't already been hit and destroyed.

The ship shuddered again. She held on and maintained her footing. After a time she removed the energizer, casting it aside. Seconds ticked by. Finally the new energizer coupling shimmered into existence beside her. She immediately grabbed it and started the installation process. She could see Beckett watching expectantly from outside the chamber.

"Almost have it," she informed him. More precious seconds ticked by and she noted Beckett did not move from his post even as minor explosions rocked engineering, and warnings of a warp core breach came over the ship systems reports. "There, now all I have to do is re-engage the power matrix feed." It was a simple task, something that any academy recruit could manage.

Outside Beckett heard Commander Raillius' status report, then saw her waiver and drop to one knee. She attempted to stand, but again fell down to one knee, then her eyes slowly closed and she sank to the floor, the task unfinished. Now Beckett was faced with a choice, get Commander Raillius out or focus on re-engaging the power matrix. Seconds counted. Whatever he did, he'd be exposing himself to deadly powerful radiation that even the radiation the suits couldn't handle.

Lt. Cody Beckett & Lt. Daryl Thompson

*USS Fearless*, engineering

Stardate 1812.24

Cody saw Commander Railius slump to the ground, unconsciously. He cursed. She needed to get out of there, the sooner, the better. Then Thompson's voice piped in. "Commander Raillius, Beckett, I closed the valves \*and\* survived. Do you need help?"

"Yes, Thompson, we do. Commander Raillius couldn't finish the job. Grab a hazardsuit and get over here. I am going to get her out. You need to fix the power matrix. Hurry up!" Beckett keyed in the sequence to open the door. As it slid open, he saw Thompson, zipping up his hazardsuit, moving his way. Cody went in the room and felt the radiation. He immediately felt dizzy.

"Medical team be on standby", he said, as he grabbed the unconscious body of the Commander and swung it over his shoulder. Thompson was already on it to fix the power coupling. "Hurry up Thompson. You need to get out of here asap. " Beckett said as he passed him and moved outside of the room.

"Yeah, working on it" Thompson bit back. He already had finished checking th heckede work of the Commander. She had done a thorough job. Last thing to check were the magnetic seals. All done. He activated them and suddenly the radiation levels dropped drastically. He moved to the console panel and started to reinitialize the power matrix. It took mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, it was done, and the power was channeled to the nacelles. The warp drive was back online. Daryl left the room and shut the door. Radiation levels where still high, and he already had taken a beating with the coolant gas. He felt sick, nauseous and.his head spun but was relieved that power had been restored. He opened a channel.

"Engineering to bridge. Power has been restored, warp drive online"

"Good work. Thank you Lt. Thompson" He heard Vree reply.

Then, the world seemed to turn 90 degrees.and everything went black. He felt how he slammed onto the deck, then he lost consciousness.

Cody had just take care of Commander Raillius who had been beamed to Sickbay, as he saw how Thompson smashed into the deck. "Dammit" he muttered, as he made his way to his fellow operative. He didn't feel to well himself, but he needed to get Thompson out of the radiation suit and into Sickbay as well. As he turned Daryl on his back, Daryl started vomiting, one of the side effects of radiation sickness. Cody removed the helmet and laid on his side so he wouldn't choke. Then he contacted Sickbay.

"This is Lt. Cody Beckett. This is an emergency, two to beam up". The ship shuddered as it took more hits, and it took seconds before the transporter got a proper lock on them. Then, after a few moments, they appeared in Sickbay, and Daryl was lifted onto a biobed. Cody slumped onto the floor as well. He also felt his stomach turning around before it emptied it's and he threw up. He felt how he got a Hypospray, all went fuzzy, as the medical personnel lift him onto the next free biobed...

Lt. Ryramorl Ra'yral

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.24

"Roger that," he said. He looked at Reepchip, then at Jahkar. "Stay with Jahkar," he said, and bolted down to the torpedo bay in a four-legged run and at once found a console.  It had been a long time since he had armed photon torpedoes, but as he ran his fingers over the console, the knowledge sprang to his mind--and then the trouble started.  The computers had been scrambled by the attack, and he realized he couldn't  arm them in large numbers, but only in threes at best.

He barked out the designations of each torpedo he armed, and tried to get into a rhythm, but the computer malfunctions kept him from doing that. He wanted to call down Reepchip who--with his advanced engineering classes--likely knew how to do this as well, but knew Jahkar might need everyone he could get his hands on.

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.24

Reepchip was actually trembling--he'd been in training, yes, but this was actual combat and he felt very vulnerable.  He tried to put himself in the mindset of knowing that his warren was under attack, and he had to help defend it, but his efforts didn't help.  He still had no idea why he'd been sent here--or why Admiral MacLeod had accepted him.  When he heard that the Admiral was gone, the only thing he could think of to  do was pray to the Custodian of the Lost--she buried those lost at sea, would she do the same for one lost in Space?

And most important, when this ship--this warren--was invaded, would he be able to follow orders?  Or would he simply freeze up? Hopefully the former.

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Fearless* Bridge

Stardate 1812.25

She watched the sensors carefully to see what the following warbird was going to do. Just when it seemed the warbird was going to veer to port to avoid most of the lifepods and the approaching quantum torpedoes, three photon torpedoes suddenly appeared in the warbird’s path, causing it to take evasive maneuvers to veer upward too late. One quantum torpedo and two of the photon torpedoes struck the bow of the ship, collapsing the shield allowing a single photon torpedo to break through. Preet had seen the Fearless’ maneuver and was just barely able to get into position for a pincer attack to fire her torpedoes.

“Warbird, decloaking dead ahead!” Tactical yelled. “They’re firing!”

Mayla’s hands were already moving before he finished his sentence. She tapped the impulse drive override and put the ship in full reverse. The maneuver slowed the ship down considerably and with the remaining forward momentum, rolled the ship on to the starboard side to put the attacking ship into the Fearless’ sweet spot to bring all of their weapons to bear. Tactical already did this maneuver a few minutes ago with MacLeod and was able to fire a full barrage quickly.

Disruptor fire blasted into the ship’s port shields, propelling the ship’s slide faster to starboard. But the Fearless returned the favor, planting three phaser array strikes and two photon torpedoes into the cloaking ship. The cloak shimmered for a second before reappearing. Hopefully that meant they had just taken the cloaking device offline.

"Engineering to bridge. Power has been restored, warp drive online!" Thompson reported.

Mayla saw the status on the warp drive switch to nominal. "Good work. Thank you Lt. Thompson." She quickly calculated a warp jump and activated the engage panel. Mayla had kept an open channel to Preet so she would know the maneuvers the Fearless would be doing. “Preet, keep the other warbird busy.”

“Affirmative!”

The Fearless was suddenly in two places for a split second before the first one disappeared. The second one was behind the warbird with the disabled cloaking device. Now they were in position to take the offensive.

“Full spread, fire at will,” the Trill commander ordered.

“Firing!”

“Last shuttle is away, Commander,” Sh’avelith reported.

Mayla juked the ship to starboard, getting inside the warbird’s turn radius as the quantum torpedoes rippled through the shields. Taking note of their own shield strength. With power augmented from the warp drive, the shields were recovering faster.

“Sir, Ra’yral reporting torpedoes are ready,” Sh’avelith said, now assisting Tactical with the weapons.

“Firing again.” The man at Tactical said in a more confident voice. The panic was passing now that whatever they had been doing was keeping them alive. He watched almost gleefully as the warbird started to slow down. “Their rear shields are down.”

She sent coordinates to Tactical for the Nested Egg Maneuver. “Beam a torpedo into the engineering spaces before they get them restored.” Sh’avelith’s fingers danced on the console and pressed the energize key.

Mayla saw the explosion rip open the warbird’s rear. And before it blossomed into a gigantic fireball, she turned the ship on its stern and pushed the ship to three quarters impulse. The inertial dampeners tried to keep up, but everyone by now has learned that the ship could lurch in any which way to keep it and its inhabitants alive. She looked at whatever sensors that were still working showed Preet was using all of the shuttles to fire their phasers at the warbird to keep it in view even though it was cloaked. It was like a swarm of bees stinging a large bird.

“Do you have a firing solution for that warbird?” Mayla yelled above the sound of a clattering panel that just exploded out from the ceiling near the rear of the bridge. A not so subtle reminder that the ship was heavily damaged.

“Affirmative!”

“Disable only.”

“Sir?” He said, suddenly taking his finger off the firing key. He was just about to blow the warbird out of existence.

“I want you to disable that ship.” Mayla ordered while keeping an eye on the sensors. There might still be other warbirds out there. “I’m sending you coordinates for their power relay junctions, sensor array, and warp core couplings. Take them out. Fire when ready.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” He quickly tapped the few keys to lower the yield on the phasers and fired.

“Bridge to Jahkar, assemble an armed boarding party quickly. I want you to gain access to their computer core and find out how and why they attacked us. Take Railius with you. She’s familiar with Romulan tech.”

“Sir, Commander Railius is in sickbay. Radiation poisoning.” Sh’avelith reported.

Mayla let out a breath on hearing the news. “Acknowledged. Jahkar, take some transporter enhancers with you. If you can’t get access to the computer and the situation gets too hot, use the transporter to rip out the data core. I want to know who just killed the Admiral.”

“Acknowledged,” Jahkar responded promptly and briskly.

“Warbird’s propulsion is disabled, so is their sensor array,” the man at Tactical reported, now in a much calmer voice. “I’m getting power fluctuations throughout the ship.”

“Preet, keep buzzing that warbird. I’m sending over a boarding party.”

“Aye.”

Now that the battle had subsided a little, Mayla’s mind turned to other details of the attack. “Sh’avelith, those warbirds may have tracked us through warp. Investigate how that may have been possible. There could be a tracking device planted on board, or someone is sending them our course, bearing, and destination.”

Colonel Jahkar

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.28

Jahkar was teamed with a group of *Fearless* crew members, along with Reepchip, fighting a group of borders from the Romulan ship, when he heard several discouraging reports. MacLeod was dead. He had been like a father to him, especially during the time he had been involved with MacLeod’s half-Klingon daughter Chas’naH. He had no time to mourn his lost friend, at least he had died a warrior.

Further news came. Raillius was unconscious in the infirmary.  Daryl and Cody were there too.

As he pulled his mek’leth from the chest of a dead Orion, the last of their boarding party, Jahkar knew more would come. There would be further boarding action and it would be bloody. But when he received word from Vree to stand-by for transport to the Warbird, the Marine smiled.

Jahkar opened a comm-channel to the team, “This boarding party…I have seen four Romulans, three Orions, three humans and four Naausicans,” Jahkar muttered. “They are not in uniform, all civilian clothes. I’d say pirates, or terrorists.”

Vree responded back, calling for Jahkar and his team to prepare to board the enemy ship.

He also heard her concern about Raillius having knowledge of the Romulans, he almost wanted to interject that he was, in fact, half-Romulan. Though he was well versed in his Klingon heritage, he did have knowledge of some things Romulan.

As ordered, he assembled transport enhancers and he and the team readied for transport. By the time they were ready to beam over, Ryramorl had returned and rejoined them.

“Boarding party ready for transport.”

“Energize,” came Vree’s command. They were enveloped in swirling columns of sparkling light and a moment later, they were on the warbird, in her engineering compartment. There, they saw a mix of Romulans, humans and an Orion working frantically to contain plasma leaks and to regain the stability of the warp core.

“Take prisoners if you can,” he told the team. “Ryramorl and Reepchip, take four officers and secure the engineering compartment. Keep any Romulans at bay who try to come down here. The rest of you with me, we’ll locate and access the computer core.”

He took the five officers remaining and they set off toward the computer core, which was further into engineering, while the Carnora took their security officers and moved to seal off the section of the ship. Moving through the acrid smoke and past the blaring klaxons, Jahkar was forced to take out two Romulans who attempted to engage. Security stunned three more on the way.

They arrived at the computer core, a huge metal column which rose up into the structure of the ship, panels of glowing green light running up the shaft of the core. Jahkar motioned to an Ensign Samson who was among the team. Samson was a computer engineer and he carried all the equipment needed to access the computer core.

The team covered Samson as he worked, tapping into the Romulan computer core, where he began to systematically disable layers of security. Each layer was peeled away, getting Samson closer and closer to the raw data contained in the core.

A couple more pirates tried to attack them but were dispensed with by the boarding party. Jahkar opened a channel back to Fearless. “Jahkar to Vree,” he said, keying his comm-unit. “Samson is hacking the warp core. Resistance here is light. There are a lot of KIAs here.”

Samson looked up as Jahkar made his report, “I’m in. Establishing an uplink between the core and Fearless.”

“*Fearless*. You are tapped into the computer core,” said Jahkar. “We’ll hold the core until the download is complete, then beam us out.”

Back to top

## S1, E1, Act 10 **Arrival at Ops Base One**

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Fearless* Bridge

Stardate 1812.28

“Keep that data stream going,” Mayla ordered as she had to pull the *Fearless* away from the warbird when the suspected third warbird decloaked beneath them. This time, there was no way to avoid it and the ship took the full brunt of the blast.

“Shields down to 23%,” someone yelled from another station. That’s when Mayla glanced over and saw a betazoid male with a gash on the side of his head sitting at the science station.

“Track that warbird, Tactical.” Mayla hadn’t had the time or opportunity to ask his name nor his rank. “And fire whenever you get the chance.” She rolled the ship onto the starboard side. “Give me control of the tertiary weapons array.” A new panel appeared on her console as Tactical gave her access to four of the 16 phaser arrays, one on each side of the ship, and two of the rear photon torpedo launchers. While she pushed the ship in a tight orbit around the disabled warbird, following the third warbird, she quickly tapped in various firing solutions based on her maneuvers in a well practiced dance of her hands. With her in control of some of the phasers, she can fire them much quicker as she can anticipate where the Fearless was going to be at.

The third warbird cloaked just as a phaser blast enveloped it briefly. Mayla gave new orders to Preet. “We need a shuttle sweep, Lieutenant. We have to find that last warbird.”

“I’m on it,” Preet responded quickly.

“Sir, Security reports of intruders on deck 2. Mixed races boarding party.”

“So definitely not the Romulans doing this then,” Sh’avelith said.

Mayla kept silent for a moment, suddenly remembering what Railius had reported earlier. Her tactics for this last warbird will have to be changed. “How much longer to download that data?”

“Eight minutes, at least,” Sh’avelith said.

Eight minutes was a long time. If these were pirates or mercenaries, and if they find out what Jahkar’s team was doing, they might try to destroy their own warbird.

It was as if the other warbird read Mayla’s mind. Or rather, she read their minds. The warbird decloaked just as it started an attack run on the wounded warbird. “Preet, ram all of the shuttles into that attacking warbird!”

Before Preet could put out the order, the warbird opened fire with disruptors and blasted through the bow section of the ship. Mayla pushed the ship to one quarter impulse to close the range to the warbird before it could turn around for another attack run. Even at the extreme range of the phasers, she opened fire with her single phaser array and gave the warbird a glancing blow before it cloaked again.

“Beam back the boarding party immediately,” Mayla ordered.

“We’ve lost transporter lock on the away team!” Sh’avelith yelled. “Some type of interference emanating from the warbird.”

“Some sort of electronic field generator is now interfering with all the sensors,” the betazoid said as he scanned their own scans of the ship. “I think it has something to do with their cloaking device.”

“Preet, watch for the warbird, and continue your sweep with the shuttles. We need to buy some time to break through the jam-”

“This is Commander Alantris on board the warbird! I need immediate transport from the disabled warbird!”

“How did she get over there?” The man at Tactical started saying. But Mayla interrupted him. There was no time to think about that now. Maybe she was snatched at the initial barrage when the Fearless shields were momentarily went down.

“Do you have a lock on her?”

“Negative. But I have her location. She is at the center of that interference. She may have caused it.”

“Give the boarding party her location and order them to go retrieve her on the double. Modify the transporter enhancers to break through that interference. That remaining warbird is intent on destroying that ship.”

Lt. Ryramorl Ra’yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

Romulan Warbird

Stardate 1812.28

Ryramorl might have only been a lieutenant in Starfleet, but he did have some experience giving orders back home, so he barked out to the four officers the positions he wanted to take, each behind consoles for cover. “Ensign Reepchip, can you get to a higher vantage point?”

Reepchip’s eyes darted upwards. “Negative, sir. Nothing for me to climb onto.”

“Hide behind the door then.”

They kept their phasers on the door--and soon enough,it swished open to reveal a group of three Nausicaans.  The four crewmen and Ryramorl defenders promptly opened fire, nailing two, but the third managed to avoid being hit. The third Nausicaan promptly raised his energy weapon, but couldn’t get a good shot.  He drew a bead on one of the crewmen as he walked in but that’s as far as he got when Reepchip’s beam got him square in the back. Ryramorl gave him a nod. “You two, help me seize their weapons. You three, cover us,” said Ryramorl, including Reepchip in the covering. They removed the energy weapons and, to Ryramorl pleased surprise, several grenades. If need be, they could leave a little present behind.

Then he heard from the Fearless. He radioed Jahkar. “Sir!  I just heard that Commander Alantris is on this ship. Commander Vree wants us to retrieve her! Awaiting orders, sir!”

Lt. Cody Beckett

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1812.31

The haze slowly lifted and familiar sounds rang into his ears as Cody gained consciousness. He was still in Sickbay. Even the soft ambient light hurted his eyes. He pinched  until it got better. He tried to get up, but a wave of nausea made him lay down swiftly. A nurse came towards him and administered him a hypospray. The nausea disappeared. Slowly he sat up. He felt awful. The nurse had a stern look on her face.

“You suffer from radiation sickness” she said in a wry tone.

Cody grimaced “Oh really…” he started, but the look from the nurse made him shut up.

“I’ve administered you suppressants for the radiation effects and some adrenaline and steroids to stay on your feet….” Cody gazed at her. This wasn’t standard protocol. But apparently, being sick was something to be done later within Shadow Operations. Apparently not when the ship was being blown to pieces.

“Thanks for patching me up”, he said as he carefully got off the bed and made a few steps to check his balance. The steroids kicked in as he felt better with every step. He opened comms to Commander Vree. “Lt. Beckett to Commander Vree. Where do you need me ?”

As he waited for Vree to respond, he walked over to Thompson. He was still unconscious. The EMH just finished his surgical sequences to replace a large area of Thompson’s skin on his arms.

“He will be out for a while” the EMH stated. “And you should lay down too. You are in no condition to perform your duties.”

“Thanks for the heads up Doc” Cody replied, while he walked to Raillius. She was slowly awaking, but she looked pale. A few nurses where administering all kinds of meds and checking her vitals continuously.

Then, He walked out of Sickbay and made his way to the bridge.

Colonel Jahkar

Romulan Warbird

Stardate 1901.02

Jahkar heard Ryramorl in his ear mike. He keyed the device to respond, "Go find her. We're almost done here. Meet us back on *Fearless*. Jahkar out."

One of Jahkar's team, an Ensign Sizemore, turned from his tricorder and spoke, "Colonel, the warbird's warp core is going to breech in a matter of minutes. We need to get out of here ASAP."

Jahkar turned to Ensign Samson. "How long until the upload is completed?"

Samson held up a finger while he watched the display on the large padd he carried, then, after a ten second delay, he looked to Jahkar, "Upload complete. The Romulan data banks are over on Fearless."

The Federation Marine looked back up the corridor, past the smoke and dead bodies, and then looked to his team, "Get back to Fearless. I'm going to go back up Ryramorl and Reepchip."

"Aye sir," Samson said, packing in his computer gear. He tapped his comm-badge, "Samson to Fearless. Beam out everyone inside the pattern enhancers."

While they'd been working, the rest of the team had set up the pattern enhancers around the section of engineering they were in. From inside the circle the enhancers had formed, the away team beamed out. Jahkar immediately grabbed up the four enhancers and tossed them into a dufflebag he then slung over one shoulder. With his rifle in hand, the half Klingon-Romulan made his way into the depths of the dying warbird, trying to locate his team mates and Alantris.

"Jahkar to Ryramorl," he keyed his comm-unit. "I'm bringing up your six. Let me know if you find the commander. I'll catch up to you soon."

Lieutenant Ryramorl Ra'yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

Romulan Warbird

Stardate 1901.02

"Jahkar to Ryramorl. I'm bringing up your six. Let me know if you find the commander. I'll catch up to you soon."

"Ryramorl to Jahkar. Reepchip will give you a...sonic lock," said Ryramorl, trying to think of how to translate the term into English. "Reepchip:  call out to him," he then ordered Reepchip.  Reepchip gave a few barks, then Ryramorl said "Bark lower. He might not be able to hear that high."  Reepchip did, and one crewman nodded. "Yeah, we can hear that."

Ryramorl knew it was giving away their position, but in this instance, it didn't really matter. Jahkar would recognize the barking and yapping as belonging to no other and he could likely follow it.

A thought flickered through the big Carnora's mind--if they had the time, lessons in the Carnora Military Calling Code could come in handy. The six made their way through the shuddering ship, Ryramorl and Reepchip trying to remember the layouts of the Warbird.  Ryramorl then radioed Mayla Vree.

"Ryramorl to Vree:  We're seeking Commander Alantris, do you know where she is?  Also, Reepchip's giving Jahkar a sonic lock on our position. Tell Alantris to listen for a high-pitched barking; that's him." Vree would be able to hear Reepchip's barking over the radio.

Commander Mayla Vree

*USS Fearless* Bridge

Stardate 1901.04

Mayla nodded to herself lightly, acknowledging a report that surprisingly came over her subvocal. It was time to finish this. Her attention quickly turned back to watching the shields recharge slightly faster than normal with help from the warp core. She brought the ship in an orbit around the warbird to try to get in between it and the attacking warbird. Preet continued her sweeps with the shuttles as the *Fearless* quickly prepared tactical firing packages to be activated as soon as the ship decloaked.

“Any word from the rest of the boarding party?”

“I've pinpointed the Commander's location and provided coordinates to Lieutenant Ra'yral. Jahkar is on his way to back him up.” Sh'avelith said.

“Warbird decloaking off our starboard aft!” Tactical yelled.

“Fire tactical package seven,” Mayla said, firing all of the port saucer section thrusters and the starboard aft thrusters to swing the bow of the ship to starboard to bring the full barrage of nine phaser arrays to bear.

When the warbird saw the the glow of the Fearless' phaser arrays, it broke off its attack run and cloaked again. Mayla could see Preet and several shuttles converging on the warbird's last known location, firing their phasers.

“Interference has ebbed, we have transporter lock on the rest of the boarding party and the Commander!”

“Initiate extraction. Did we get the core downloaded?”

“It's finished.”

“Lieutenant Preet, end game. Let’s open a hole.” Mayla ordered calmly.

“Affirmative.” She loaded her final firing solution into her targeting computer and filtered it down to the shuttles.

Mayla took the *Fearless* on a slightly wider orbit to pull away from the warbird to lure the attacker in. Preet also moved her shuttles to open a hole. Both were ready as soon as the warbird decloaked predictably for another attack run on the other warbird. Both had already calculated the angles of attack the warbird would come in at. By the time the ship began to decloak, Preet and the Fearless concentrated all of their firepower on the single target. There was no escape. Just as the warbird fired several torpedoes at its wounded mate, four phaser arrays, and a full spread of photon and quantum torpedoes was already on its way to the attacking warbird.

Both warbirds exploded into brilliant twin suns that caused everyone to cover their eyes. When the brightness subsided, all they could see now were the lines of a darkened holodeck.

"Holodeck is offline," the computer announced from above. "Primary shipwide systems restored."

Mayla took a deep breath and let it out as the sim ended. The message she received over her subvoc reported that the intense holosim had to end soon. Raillius surprised them all with a team building exercise that sapped resources from the rest of the ship. The Fearless had had to shut down other systems to reroute power and computer cycles to the holodeck to maintain the sim.

She stood up from what was the chair at the helm of the *Fearless* and took note that everyone in the team was present before giving her next order.

“Meet back here for sim debriefing in 30 minutes. Dismissed.”

Lieutenant Ryramorl Ra'yral

Ensign Reepchip Charatetet

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1901.04

There was a silence as Ryramorl and Reepchip found themselves themselves in the holodeck of an evidently unharmed Fearless. As the reality of the situation set in, Reepchip began uttering a low-pitched (for him) growl. His trembling paws made it impossible for him to holster his phaser and it clattered to the floor as he suffered a fit of post-combat shakes.  Ryramorl inwardly winced; Reepchip’s breakdown would be noted by Jahkar, Vree, and Raillus, and he hoped they wouldn’t dismiss Reepchip as completely unfit for combat.  He touched Reepchip’s shoulder, and the Muran’s shaking subsided to the point where he could pick up his phaser.

“I thought we were really under attack!” Reepchip growled once they were out of earshot.  “I thought we were as good as dead!”

“As did I, which was probably the point. The training sims have the weakness that we KNOW they are training sims, and we are more confident and careless.”

Reepchip growled.  “And then to turn into a week-old cubling in front of everyone--”

Ryramorl gripped Reepchip’s shoulder and turned him so they were face-to-face.  “You’re not the first one I’ve seen to be rattled by their first combative experience. Hell, even I was. You’re tin, Reepchip, and that showed, but Jahkar will get copper in you yet. Now, I need to make sure my battle armour is actually in the armoury.”

It wasn’t, so Ryramorl headed back to his quarters, getting his battle armour and--after a moment of thought--the weapons he used as a Royal Bodyguard as well. True, his armour  wasn’t Starfleet standard, but it could be repainted to show UFP colours instead of that of the Carnora Pentarchy. Reepchip helped him carry some of the smaller stuff. As Ryramorl placed his armour in the armoury, he made a mental note to talk to whoever was in charge of the stores at their home base to make sure there was some sort of armour for Reepchip to wear.  Heck, a uniform was likely to be an issue; he even wondered if they still had his. The two Carnoras headed back to the holodeck for the briefing, Reepchip now in control of himself.

Lieutenant Daryl Thompson

*USS Fearless*; Holodeck

Stardate 1901.05

Daryl was impressed. Commander Raillius had pulled off a convincing holosim. The team had been forced to handle a variation of hard, maybe even impossible situations thrown at them. As far as he could tell, they handled well. Well, they would find out in 30 mins when debriefed.

Lieutenant Cody Beckett

*USS Fearless*; Holodeck

Stardate 1901.05

Cody was utterly surprised when the characteristic lines of the holodeck appeared. It all had been a simulation ! He looked around, and saw Thompson and Raillius standing a few feet away from him. HIs brain had to wrap around the fact that what he saw moments ago, Thompson and Raillius both unconscious on a biobed in Sickbay, had been a holographic impression. As they were dismissed, Cody went back to his quarters. He needed a few moments to sort his thoughts, So much had happened the past hour. Guess he needed to learn to cope with these hectic situations. He shook his head and exhaled as he entered his quarter and sat down.

“Green Tea, hot” he stated, and the next moment the replicator hummed and a steaming hot cup of green tea materialized. As he took the tea, the door chimed. It was Thompson.

“Come in” Beckett replied. The door opened and Thompson stepped inside.

“Daryl. What can I do for ya ?” Cody asked. “Want some tea ?”

Daryl shook his head “No thanks. Just checking how you are doing. The holosim was pretty intense”.

“Heck yeah it was” Cody nodded. “I really thought we would be blown to smithereens. Raillius did a thorough job with that holosim.”

Thompson agreed. “Yeah she did. I am still wondering how the holodeck managed to simulate the radiation and chemical burns and the nausea we felt. “

Cody nodded. “Yeah indeed. As soon as the holosim ended, all symptoms where gone.“ He frowned, as this would mean that the holosim would have to be able to modify several neurological patterns in their brains. Not impossible, but not normally done within a holosim.

Daryl grinned. “Let’s ask Raillius sometime. Guess she has the answer."

Cody nodded in agreement and sipped his tea.

Commander T’Aayla Raillius

*USS Fearless*, Briefing Room

Stardate 1901.06

“Before the Commander speaks, she asked me to say a few words about the simulation. First, this type of surprise simulation will not be run again. Anything that happens in the future will be real. The reason is that you can have no thoughts moving forward that what is happening to you might *‘be just’*’ a simulation. It will be real and you should treat it as such.”  She let that sink in.

“The sim was designed to place each of you in situations that challenged your judgement and dedication to your teammates.” She paused for effect, “Nothing builds trust better than seeing your teammates risking their lives for you and for the good of the ship. You will of course be running your actions over in your heads and analyzing what happened. This is good, make sure to build on the positives you find, and correct the negatives. The sim was designed to be as close to real world operations as possible.

"The holodeck safeties were changed to allow any injury that could be repaired 100% in our sickbay. You couldn’t be killed, but you could break your arm. Your bruises are real. The pain you felt was real. The core of the simulation was from a program I ran on Fearless over ten years ago when I served as her first officer under Captain Sortha, a Gorn exchange officer. The program was still in her holosim memory banks, and in that program I had replicated the Fearless down to the smallest detail for internal training purposes. Captain Sortha always felt real bruises and real blood did a body good.

"This sim was running multiple scenarios simultaneously and was adaptive along a set of prearranged possible actions. It took up a large chunk of Fearless’  computing power, but Admiral MacLeod was convinced to … indulge me.” She allowed an impish smile that was unusually uncharacteristic of her stern demeanor and gave a glimpse into her former identity as Jamie T. Marcus, but only for a split second. The smile was quickly replaced by her usual serious sternness.

“The guiding principle of the sim was to place you and Fearless in a dangerous situation, but never to allow a quick death, or end to the sim quickly.” She paused, “Had Fearless been attacked by three D’deridex battleships, she would have been destroyed in seconds,” and unable to suppress a slight evil upturn from one corner of her mouth added, “Especially if I or one of my brothers from House Raillius was in command of them. As my father, the late Senator Raillius, constantly drilled into my head, *never underestimate your enemy.* It wouldn’t have ended as well in real life as it did in the simulation. There are no do-overs in real life.  Act accordingly.” She turned to Commander Vree, “Commander, they’re all yours.”

She sat down and noted that no one had recognized the simulation for what it was. At any time, if someone had simply said ‘end simulation’ or ‘display arch’ the simulation would have ended for that person. She would have recommended that person for promotion for their keen observation and deductive reasoning. There were minor details that were not right about Fearless, things she hadn’t had time to update, and the narrative of the story arc was just too… scripted. All put together, the odds of it having been real quickly approached zero on at least an x squared curve of probability versus time.

She also knew she had to talk to Commander Vree, not only about the crew reactions, but also about tactics.  She didn’t know about other Empires, but the Rihansuu fleet had instituted countermeasures to simply beaming in explosive devices on their ships, as well as the ability to beam aboard through a single downed shield years ago. The ship had to be nearly a burning hulk before such events could occur given redundant transporter scramblers throughout the ship. Point defense phaser banks had also been installed in response to swarm attacks from small Jem Hadar suicide craft and shuttles. The cloak phase time had been reduced dramatically, as well as shield rotation and refresh speeds. She’d have to walk a fine line between helping her current crew and not betraying her Rihansuu family and adoptive home.

Admiral Ian MacLeod

*USS Fearless*

Stardate 1901.06

The doors to the War Room slid open and MacLeod walked in, looking alive and well. He looked around at the team and smiled roguishly. “The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated,” the Scot said with an impish grin.

He stood at the head of the table and looked around, “Commanders Vree, Raillius, you can proceed with a debrief of the team when we deliver you to your base. For those of you overcome by radiation poisoning during the simulation, rest assure it was a very minor dose and was tailored to give you symptoms, but nothing else.

“I viewed your performances remotely and I am pleased, you all did well considering the fact you were faced with what was almost a Kobayashi Maru scenario. But, I will let your CO be the final word on your evaluations.

“We are arriving at Ops Base One. If you all would like, you can have front row seats on the bridge…well, make that standing room only. But please, join me.”

MacLeod turned and led the way onto the bridge of the *Fearless*. The scene was much different than it had been in the holodeck. Everyone was alive, the hull was in tact and on the viewscreen they could see Fearless entering an asteroid field

“We’re in the Argolis Cluster. The Krarron system, to be exact. Within this asteroid belt is a former mining facility originally operated by the Federation. It was abandoned 30 years ago but was seized and put into use by the Dominion as a Ketricil White distribution center during the war, 20 years ago.”

*Fearless* moved deeper into the field and soon, the ship was moving directly toward one ancient asteroid. As it appeared they would run directly into the rock face of the object, the “rock” suddenly wavered and disappeared – a hologram – revealing the open maw of a hangar bay.

*Fearless* slowly passed through the entrance and into the spacious cavern of the former mining facility. There were visible durasteel modules built into the walls of the asteroid cave, with an overhead lighting array. There was enough room in the cavern for Fearless, and possibly one large or two smaller vessels.

In the other berth a small escort class ship was docked, lights from the cavern ceiling directed down upon it, illuminating its hull. MacLeod looked back at the team and smiled, “There’s your ship. The *USS Resurrection.* As soon as we dock, you’re free to have a look at the facilities aboard the station and the *Resurrection*.”

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