Task Force 43 (v3 rewrite)

[Zcenicx]

Hello everyone,
And yes, the rumors of my stories' demise have been greatly exaggerated. I'll use the same excuse as I did last time and blame work, but I've also had my hands full with a translation project I got hired to do earlier this year. I like writing my own stories, but they don't pay the bills do they?

Anyways..

I could have started with writing an entirely new chapter, and to be quite frank I did too. Then I saw that my own recollection of the story as I had progressed it didn't fit too well with what I'd actually written. In some cases I'd simply forgotten about a side story I'd prepared and built up and in others I completely replaced a character I was progressing with simple one-shot persona.

Also, many of you who read the story last time had several good points, and after I went through the story and checked I not only found several source errors which just got worse as the story progressed, but also several things which were plain wrong from a canonical standpoint. I also wanted to polish the story up a bit and actually bring it to the level I'm capable of now but wasn't back then.

Last time I worked on the story I had posted 37 chapters, and I had another one prepared. As I started to work on it though I took complete creative license and actually rewrote some things from chapter one straight up to the end, and also extended what I'd already written before. As I'm an avid fan of knowing what I wrote when I color code my editions, but looking back on my chapters is like looking at a rainbow.

When I started noticing I was extending every chapter I touched by on average 25% (800-3000 words more per chapter) I pretty much gave up and effectively rewrote it the way I wanted it. I've already done two passes during the fall, and now I'm doing what I hope will be the final polish before you get to read it again.

I'm always open to suggestions, and since I'm rewriting parts I'm not against doing that either - within reason. I'm not changing the way the story eventually plays out, but I am open to ideas and even entirely new plot twists. And let me promise you this - even someone who still has a perfect memory of this story (and for those who don't the original is still archived here) there are a lot of new twists in this version you've never seen before.

//Z


FAQ:
What is TF43?
- TF43 is a larger-scale crossover between post-Nemesis Star Trek and Minbari War era Babylon 5 which spans a larger than usual time scale as well. There are also direct theft of ideas from among others Andromeda, Stargate, nBSG, Gundam and Starship Troopers just to name a few embedded in the story.

Can I find the entire story somewhere without having to scroll through X lines of comments and posts?
- Yup. There's a thread under the Creative Writing Archive containing nothing but the actual original story. There will be a new one with this version shortly, but won't always be updated the same day as this thread.

Your weapon X doesn't conform to canon Y!
- Creative license, in some cases. In others, it's a decision I've made to keep the story writeable, readable, but mainly enjoyable. In essence, I treat phasers as particle masers, pulse phasers as high-energy relativistic plasma, and torpedoes as warp-capable (in the fed version at least) missiles. B5 weaponry is rarely thoroughly explained, so I try to make them believable, but still scalable.

Feds/B5 race X have Super-powerful-curb-stomp-weapon XYZ123 too! Why don't they use them?
- The US have nukes too, why didn't they simply glass Baghdad? Same reason. Also, in the end the story has to be enjoyable, no matter how many super techs I have to throw in, or throw out.
- Another reason is that I'm balancing in some of the Andromeda tech as well, and adding too many and too different techs means I'd be forced to write a techno babble story - which I have no intention to do (on purpose). If you want that, go look at FF.net - there are plenty there.

Why don't you have AI drones or completely AI-run ships?
- Currently, for the same reason the actual series never do. It's simply not fun. I may or may not add them later on, it'll be a question of how the story progresses. More likely add than not though.

What power do I as a reader have over the story?
- Depends on your idea. I rarely ignore constructive criticism nor well formulated ideas, unless completely incompatible with the story or my writing style. Whining won't work though.

And finally: I will not, no matter how much you whine about it, change my scaling of the different races more than fractions. The reason is simple, I need balance. Without balance the fic ends really quickly and that's not my intention. This is not a curbstomp fic, nor is it (I hope) a wank-fic either. It's what I'd personally like to see happen in a ST/B5 crossover in which there's so much balance involved you actually need a good story too.



Story-wide standard changes and set standards
- All distances and measurements are now in METRIC instead of Imperial (inches, feet, miles, you know...)
-Times are now described in 24-hour standard instead of 12-hour AM/PM.
- Fed timeline begins at a more correct date of 2380, not 2386. The appropriate changes have been made to their tech base.
- Photon = M/AM reaction, Quantum = ZPE reaction, Transphasic = Phase-shifting Quantum torpedo
- Warp scale used is V=C*W^(3.3333+f(W)) where f(W)= -0.5 log10(10 - W), if 9.0<W<=10.0 (or in other words Voyager standard scale).
- No, hyperspace isn't necessarily faster than warp, but then again the reverse isn't always true either. It depends on the route and what's in the way.
- Phaser = Phased Hadron Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. I don't care what canon says on this one. Phasers are now thus considered particle instead of energy weapons, as nadions should technically be considered hadrons considering their canon effect.
- Minbari neutron weapons are considered masers (free-neutron masers more specifically) by this author.
- Pulse weapons fire balls of plasmatic particles, and as such both Feds and B5 races have pulse weapons. There's a major difference between what particles said plasma is made from though.
- I finally succumbed to reality. People do cuss, and people do curse. Now mine does so too, but not without good reason.



Disclaimer:
Star Trek, Andromeda and all associated material is the intellectual property of Paramount.
Stargate and all associated material is the intellectual property of Warner Bros.
Babylon 5 and all associated material is the intellectual property of J. Michael Straczynski (I think...)
Gundam and all associated material is the intellectual property of Sunrise.

And so on.

The story, storyline, most characters and all modified ship designs are the intellectual property of me.

Please don't sell the material, it'll just make JMS or someone over at Paramount sue you for royalties. Please don't try to pawn the story off as your own either, since that's just plain rude to me.

[Zcenicx]

Background


An introduction to the Romulan-Federation conflict of 2380
by vice admiral William Ross

Throughout the Dominion War, a conflict which began in the year 2372 and lasted for four long and bloody years, Starfleet had continually suffered massive losses both in ships and personnel at the hands of both the Dominion's own Jem Hadar armies and fleets as well as their Alpha Quadrant allies the Cardassians and the Breen. Due to the new development of dedicated military vessels that had started shortly before the war erupted, in preparation for a large Borg incursion or even invasion, the effective military force of Starfleet thus increased dramatically as the damaged or destroyed older model ships were replaced by this newer generation of more defined warships, even though the actual number of starships even decreased as the war continued to drag on.

One such example can be made in the development of the new Archangel-class strike carriers, a single one of these ships being more than twice the mass of even the massive but aging Excelsior class and carrying a military force equal to a small previous-generation battle group in indirect weaponry as well as fighters, interceptors and bombers. Another can be made as the war saw massive casualties among the older general-purpose ship classes that were still being kept in service, far beyond their initial decommissioning dates through numerous programs of refits and upgrades, such as the Excelsior, Miranda and even Constitution classes.

With the fact that these lost Excelsior class heavy explorers were replaced with the new and far more advanced Sovereign class battlecruisers, or that any of the just as old Constitution, Miranda or Ambassador class explorers were replaced with the newer and far more potent Akira, Luna, Intrepid and Prometheus cruiser classes, the average ship age got lower and lower while the already significant technological advantage of the Starfleet ships increased even further. The war also saw the development of an entirely new class of starships, short-range destroyer and gunboat classes such as the Norway, Steamrunner and Defiant classes, directly designed for short-ranged defensive warfare with a uniquely high amount of firepower for their size but with limited range, mainly meant to free up the long-ranged heavy Explorer ships for front line service where they'd do the most good instead of locking them down in planetary defense.

At the end of the Dominion War in late 2375, the higher echelons of Starfleet had still not fully realized what effects these few but quite significant factors had on the overall balance of power that had long governed the Alpha Quadrant. The people in charge were still too focused on replacing a number than they were replacing a specific amount of torpedo launchers or phasers, and even less so with only replacing an in their eyes mostly theoretical force ratio. This again constituted what was effectively seen by many other nations as a major build-up of military force, especially as much of the Starfleet personnel who had survived the war had also gained a lot of invaluable experience from real battles and interstellar warfare on a scale which had up until then been seen as so unlikely it hadn't even been seriously discussed, much less prepared for in training.

In 2376 Bajor finally joined the Federation as their main reason for postponing this action had been to protect themselves from getting involved in the ongoing war, and with the peace treaty between the Federation and the Dominion extensive trade agreements were subsequently signed between many Federation members and a number of Gamma Quadrant worlds belonging to the Dominion. With the wormhole now formally deep in Federation space and massive economic gains being made as a result relations with the only other remaining great power of the Alpha Quadrant, the Romulan Empire, worsened quickly.

2379 saw the return of the USS Voyager from the Delta Quadrant, which sparked yet another more or less extensive (depending on ship age) refit for just about every single Starfleet vessel in active service. The information and intelligence gained from captain Janeway and her crew about the Borg and other potential threats in that region of space scared the Admiralty to the point where the ships not capable to be refitted were simply decommissioned, and new ships quickly ordered from the shipyards to replace them. For the first time since the dark years of the Dominion War, both the massive shipyards at Utopia Planitia and San Francisco station were filled to capacity and many of the others close to as well.

After the Reman incident where the Sovereign-class ship USS Enterprise, flagship of and one of the most advanced vessels in all of Starfleet, was severely damaged by Romulan forces and the subsequent collapse of the Romulan government, the Federation Admiralty once again ordered ship improvements and as they saw what they perceived to be a real and imminent danger of being dragged into an armed conflict by either the Borg or the Romulan Empire, and in a worst case scenario both. All active ships of the line were refitted to carry the cutting edge technology transphasic torpedoes along their now standard load of zero-point warhead quantum ones, effectively rendering the older antimatter based photon torpedoes mostly obsolete for starship use.

Most ships were also refitted with the Voyager’s deployable armor in addition to their ablative hull armor, as well as a reverse-engineered version of the Borg's adaptive and regenerative shielding and the more powerful Type XV Phaser emitters. The fact that this constituted a severe breach of the temporal prime directive didn't seem to bother the Admiralty too much, as they saw themselves being faced with the distinct possibility of a war on two fronts against enemies just as strong as, or in the case of the Borg even stronger than, they were.

Another new addition was that the heavy explorer class ships regained the flank pulse cannon banks that had been dropped from Starfleet starship designs more than a hundred years earlier with the last ships of the dedicated battleship classes being scrapped, though this time they were installed with the Type XV particle emitters as a base. It was a subject of long and heated debate in the Federation council, but as these ships were the very backbone of the Federation's defensive forces it was agreed to be a prudent decision and a necessary step in order to safeguard the widespread and hard to defend nation. The difference in effect against civilizations with better shielding technology was impressive, as where the phaser beams were effectively surgical instruments which tried to drill through the shield in one localized spot, the phaser pulse cannons were easier compared to hitting them with a sledgehammer and grinding them down through sheer overwhelming brute force.

At the time as the Federation was reconsidering its relationship with the then shattered and unstable Romulan Empire the restrictions of the Treaty of Algeron were becoming a strategic problem. With the Reman incident in recent history and a number of other conflicts both before and since, the treaty was officially broken in early 2380 as some of the most modern ships were equipped with the Federation's own cloaking technology, phasing devices, as they were refitted. This alternative cloaking technology wasn't just a more reliable cloaking device than the Romulan version but also made the ship using the device effectively impervious to enemy fire while they were out of phase, something the Romulans had never been able to achieve with their own cloaks. The only real drawback was that while this technology could effectively hide them, it didn't make finding their opposition any easier as the phase difference actually made it harder to sense the minute energy a cloaking device would emit.

It can and has been argued that the members of the Admiralty were quite ignorant to miss the fact that their rapid refitting program and subsequent expansion of the Starfleet greatly disturbed the military balance and force ratio of the entire quadrant, but in reality they were just thinking like any other Federation citizen or Starfleet officer would. They didn't recognize the increased number of modern Explorer ships and heavier and better armed cruisers as a direct increase in military force, since they weren't intended or meant to be used as such against other nations of the Alpha Quadrant, even though they were designed with this function as a direct requirement against threats such as the Borg.

This did not mean that the other powers saw it that way. The Akira alone, which had been mass produced during and after the war, had by now almost entirely replaced the Ambassador and Challenger classes and had more military force in a single starship than both of its predecessors combined. The Sovereign also by far outmatched any of the Excelsior- or even the much newer Galaxy-class ships it replaced, and even the quite small Defiant class could easily outgun a previous era line cruiser such as the Miranda or Constellation classes.

While the Klingon High Council didn't necessarily disapprove of their now blood allies becoming more powerful, at least not publically, and the Cardassians and the Breen being too weak to be able to do more than launch a formal protest, the Romulans did. In May of 2380, with the assassination of commander Dodondra and the subsequent failure of the USS Titan's mission to stabilize the region, the Romulan Star Empire launched a synchronized series of attacks against several of the Federation outposts along the Neutral Zone, without a formal declaration of war being sent until several weeks later citing the Federation's disregard for the Algeron treaty and their massive military buildup as their main casus belli.

Perhaps a more realistic and critical examination of the reasons for the Romulan War would show that the Empire had been shattered and in great turmoil ever since the Reman Incident and that as in so many of our own comparable historical cases a war against an external and historical foe may very well have been the only way to once again unite the disputing factions and restore order to the ever increasing chaos enveloping most of the Empire. This view is compounded by the Romulan battle groups seemingly avoiding all direct contact with larger Federation forces, or for that matter any larger battle fleet action, while instead focusing on less defended targets such as stations near the Neutral Zone and sending raiding parties into Federation space to destroy valuable but less strategically important resources.

[Zcenicx]

Prologue


Admiral’s log, Stardate 57503.0.
Vice admiral Samuel West, commanding officer of Task Force 43, Fifth Fleet.
Copy to Starfleet Command, San Francisco and Fifth Fleet Headquarters, Deep Space 7.

This has been a very, very long week for me and my personnel. The constant attacks and increasing casualties we’ve been forced to endure the last few days have been tiring, both mentally and physically. Today the task force came upon the wreckage of a ship we presume was once the USS Okinawa. There was little left to suggest it had once been a ship, much less a proud Starfleet vessel representing the Federations latest attempt at a new peace treaty, except for what we could get out of the computer’s metallurgical analysis. She never even made it into Romulan space to deliver her request for a tentative ceasefire.

This war made little sense when it started, and it makes even less now. Two months and countless lives later the border hasn’t shifted a single meter, and no peace offer has been even discussed. No demands have even been issued. The Romulans seem intent on destroying each and every one of us, and no one seems to know why. Even then they do little more than peck away at us one or two ships at a time, and avoiding any forces that may give them an equal fight as well as they can. I don't know which is hardest to bear, that they use these ruthless tactics or that they seem to lack any overall strategy to do more than ever so slowly bleed us dry. As my science officer so calmly put it, ‘the actions of the Romulans are illogical’. In fact, even a war of attrition such as this is mainly pointless as the material losses we do incur are easily replaced. It's the losses in personnel that aren't, but even there the losses are too slow to do more than damage our morale. I cannot understand how they hope to win a war against the Federation fighting this way.

Even so, they seem content to use their normal stealth hit and run tactics rather than face us in open battle. We lost the Hera to a surprise attack such as that while she was investigating the Okinawa wreckage for survivors and computer logs. Two Warbirds decloaked just a few clicks off her bow and at point blank range and with surprise on their side she was simply overwhelmed by the Romulan ships' combined firepower. They paid dearly for their deeds as the Venture and Independence were quick to engage and destroy them before they could escape, but even so only a quarter of the Hera’s crew survived and the ship had to be evacuated and scuttled due to a warp core containment failure. Damn waste of a fine ship and a fine crew. We performed the burial ceremony for captain Ic'ovaq in the forward observation deck of the Albion, and sent her off with the highest military honors. I would like the Admiralty to convey my, and my captains’, sincerest condolences to her brood, mates and spawn back on Cariss.

We completed our evacuation of the Starfleet personnel and colonists from the damaged colony of Nelvana III. Most of the evacuated personnel have been assigned quarters on the Challenger and the Venture. Thank the gods the Galaxy class was constructed with evacuations in mind. We counted a total of just over 12,000 refugees, only a mere twenty percent of the original population of the complex but even so a surprisingly high number considering. The colony had suffered massive and extensive damage from being hit with disruptor weapons as well as concussion bombs, and casualties were still lying in the street when our ground forces transported down. There was no time to bury the dead as long range scanners picked up Romulan scout ships soon upon our arrival.

At 2200 hours yesterday we did however manage to find and recall the science vessels Darwin and Icarus. They reached and joined the task force at 0100 and 0150 hours today respectively. This brings the total amount of ships in the task force back to thirty-two, replacing the losses of the Hera and previously the Forager. While I’m well aware that two Nova-class science vessels can’t replace the military force of a single Nebula-class, much less a Galaxy-class starship, at this point it is my opinion that anything is far better than nothing as long as it can shoot. I just hope their captains have done their jobs and both kept their tactical officers trained and their targeting systems calibrated. I’ve attached them to the carrier wing as escorts for the time being, allowing them time to drill their crews back into combat shape and I’ve also transferred several veteran crewmen and officers from the combat vessels onto their ships to help with the transition.

To conclude my log, the Excelsior suffered another malfunction at 1800 hours yesterday. I’m glad the old lady’s still with us, even with the extensive damage she received during our last engagement, but it seems her age is finally beginning to show. Her port forward torpedo launcher misfired during a live fire test of the newly repaired systems, causing a hull breach on several levels as the photon torpedo exploded in the tube. Emergency force fields were deployed immediately but three crewmembers lost their lives in the explosion with another thirteen injured and still in the medical bay. I’ve decided to keep her away from the fighting until she passes a full diagnostic at Starbase 10.

The task force is still on course for Starbase 10 in sector 23 to repair and rearm. We’re traveling in force formation at a speed of warp 6. Estimated time of arrival is in two hours.

Computer, end log. 

[Zcenicx]

“That's fine with me, and trust me I know how hard it is to say no to an Orion captain, especially a female such."


Chapter 1


USS ALBION
FEDERATION SOVEREIGN-CLASS COMMAND BATTLECRUISER
TASK FORCE 43 FLAGSHIP


It’s funny how some things in life can be mistaken for others. Sounds are typically a good example as they can also trigger memories that one associates with them, like childhood memories or the face of a loved one. The piercing noise of a warming klaxon is not however one typically linked to happy memories, and definitely not when it goes off early in the morning after a long night of work. It did however directly associate with numerous very bad memories, and immediately roused him from his deep slumber.

“Yellow alert. Yellow alert. All crew respond to yellow alert. Admiral West, please report to the bridge as soon as possible.”

Roused but still just barely conscious enough to tap the communicator he was still wearing and acknowledge the request, he immediately rose and began to straighten out his uniform. A good night’s sleep was a rare commodity few in the higher ranks were blessed with these days, especially when in command of a Federation military task force operating inside the enemy battle line. With a hazy move he rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock, finally realizing that he'd only just fallen asleep just under an hour ago as he'd gotten back. He barely even remembered getting to his quarters, much less falling asleep. He'd pretty much landed in the bed and fallen asleep as his body hit the sheet, and he hadn't even been able to stay awake long enough to change out of his duty uniform before doing so.

Not that it really mattered, especially at a time such as this. He had always judged his current job to be leading his forces as effectively as possible in combat, not to look and act pristine at all times. That was perhaps unfortunately what had given him this task force and the rank of vice admiral in the first place, and even though he had his reservations about the posting and the job itself, he still thought a sound tactical mind was more important than being perfectly shaved or wearing spotless uniforms like most of the brass back at Starfleet Command usually seemed to prioritize. Not that he had much choice in the matter right now. Once you were placed in command of a battle group it was close to impossible to be reassigned until the war was over, unless you got yourself shipped off in a body bag or were forcefully removed due to negligence or dereliction of duty, and the admiral had no plans to end his career with either of those three.

Either way, he knew the ship's captain wouldn’t mind. For all the eccentricities of the admiral, he knew the captain would always forgive him his flaws and listen to what he had to say regardless of how he looked when he did. Brothers have a tendency to do so, and that was also a major part of why he had decided to place his flag on the Albion in the first place instead of requesting his own command ship. In peacetime it was almost unheard of and Starfleet would probably have serious recommendations against it, but this was wartime and in war certain things were overlooked if it didn't cause a severe issue. The personal ship preference of a flag officer was one of these things that were overlooked as long as it didn’t become a problem, and as both he and Henry were decorated career officers who had always put their duty first and this was just a small task force and not the entire fifth fleet command in question.

Exiting his quarters in as orderly fashion as he could, he was immediately saluted by the two visibly both armed and armored marines which had shadowed him ever since the start of this his latest assignment. He would have preferred not to bother with the escort as he didn’t foresee any attempts on his life while onboard the flagship, not any more so than while he'd been in command of the San Francisco fleet yards where he'd never had an escort at all, but unlike ship preference the personal security of a commanding admiral was not one of the things Starfleet overlooked, and certainly not in wartime. The two marines filed in a step behind him and followed in silence as he quickly made his way to the turbolift while still trying to get the still dense wool out of his mind.

The bridge of a Sovereign-class starship is quite large and very spacious compared to most other ships, and at just after seven in the morning it’s usually bustling with personnel due to the shift change which usually takes place at that time. Being at yellow alert didn’t actually increase or decrease the amount of people present but at least they didn’t move around as much as normal and the air was almost blissfully silent.

As the admiral exited the turbolift and walked onto the crowded bridge he immediately gestured for the rising and turning officers and enlisted crew to keep their seats and stations. All stations were manned, even the auxiliary consoles in the back, which was unusual. Normally the auxiliary tactical and engineering consoles were unmanned while not in combat but this was not the case now, and the admiral hazily remembered the yellow alert condition being issued. Even so it was an uncommon occurrence as the crew seemed tense, but even so they didn't show any of the normal apprehension or grim determination he'd expect if they knew the ship was preparing to momentarily enter combat.

He went towards the captain’s chair in the center, and the somewhat too calm appearance of his younger brother who was intensely studying a pad, seemingly unaware of his presence.
“Captain, I hope you had a good reason to interrupt my beauty sleep.” He said with just a hint of humor as he approached. "Especially as you know full well just how short it was."
“Ah, admiral, you’ve arrived. Good.” Captain Henry West actually looked a little unsettled as he rose from his chair, but if you didn't know him as well as his brother did you probably never would’ve noticed. “We’re within long-range sensor range of Starbase 10. The sensor returns we're getting are, well, somewhat distressing. I’ve ordered the fleet to speed up and we’re currently traveling at warp 8 while we await your assessment of the situation as well as your orders.”
“Somewhat distressing?" The admiral repeated. "You’re even more cryptic than usual, Henry.”
“Yes. I know.” Captain West looked at his brother sharply and continued in a low voice. “Not here. Come.” He motioned towards the ready room.

The two brothers, so much alike for any outside observer, looked practically identical in their command duty uniforms. Both were just over one point eight meters long, with much the same trained build and both had a fair complexion in no small part due to their being in space most of their adult lives. There was however a slight difference in haircut, as well as slightly more grey in the temples of the admiral. They weren't twins and their faces were hardly identical if both were present to compare with the other, but Henry and Samuel West were very clearly brothers only a few years apart, and no one could mistake them for anything else. The difference in uniform and rank insignia was usually the only thing unfamiliar crew or captains could use to easily distinguish one from the other. Luckily for most the two brothers had never held the same rank and only rarely been assigned to the same starship.

They moved into the captains ready room, one of the few places on the ship where the armored marines actually gave the admiral some privacy instead taking up positions on either side of the door. Samuel quickly landed in the sofa, his brother taking a seat close by, after the admiral had gone over to the replicator and ordered his ‘rough awakening drink’, a mixture of strong Klingon coffee, dark-roast Arabian coffee from Earth, syrup and a good deal of single malt scotch. Most would call it a quite vile witches brew and by most definitions it was as well, but the strong mix of caffeine, sugar and alcohol did work wonders with his alertness and that was really all that mattered, and after all, the taste wasn't quite bad enough to make him nauseous.

“So. Tell me what you found out, Henry. It must be quite bad because I doubt you'd be this secretive otherwise.”
“I actually don’t know, and that’s what scares me, Sam.” Finally letting go of his controlled emotions, the captain looked quite worried, and a slight bit apprehensive. “The sensor returns were somewhat garbled, possibly due to Romulan jamming, but from what we can read they would seem to indicate an ongoing attack on 10.”
The admiral had straightened up immediately as that bomb hit him. “For how long? How many?”
“Unknown. As I said the returns were garbled. Again, it could be because of jamming, but I can’t be sure. It could just be a faked sensor return, we know the Romulans have done that before to lure in ships and then slam the trap shut. This task force is quite a bit to chew, but we all know the Romulans and we're definitely not numerous enough not to be overwhelmed if they wanted us dead.”
“True.” The admiral took a sip of his coffee, and met his brother’s gaze. “But what if not?”
"Another possibility is that they're faking the returns to make us go there rather than somewhere else." Henry pointed out. “Still, if it truly is an attach in progress we’d estimate somewhere around a dozen Warbirds with escorts, which would be the usual force they've deployed in most of their raids. We haven’t been able to raise 10 on subspace either. All in all, not good news considering the state of the garrison.”
"And faking the returns would be pointless since we're already en route." Samuel sighed. “Damn it. Damn those Romulans. 10 has a garrison of eight ships, I know, but all of them are older vessels that by all rights should be decommissioned by now and the starbase itself isn't in much better shape either...”
“Admiral… I know. As you no doubt remember the captain of the Crazy Horse is my brother-in-law… and the Crazy Horse was one of the ships the Guard assigned to garrison 10…”
“Don’t remind me, Henry.” West snapped. “He’s a good friend of mine too, you know. We served together on the Galaxy.”
“I remember." The captain made a faint smile. "You were the one who introduced me to his sister.”
“Well then. What’s our roster? Which ships can we enter battle with?”
“Well, that’s the good part. Independence and Discovery both report ready for battle, as do Franklin and Berlin." The captain read off a small pad in his hand. "I’d keep the Excelsior in reserve due to her recent malfunctions but the Albion is, as always, at your service.”
“Ok, that gives us three Sovereigns and two Excelsiors. What about the other wings?”
“Both cruiser wings are ready for battle; the Lexington still has some battle damage but nothing she can’t handle or that would impact her combat performance. A single phaser array is still malfunctioning according to the latest report, but a Nebula has plenty of others available to use instead. Oh, and I reassigned the Gallant to the second frigate wing.”
“Hmm?” The admiral was fine with his brother’s decision, but was interested in hearing why he’d move an Intrepid-class destroyer together with his frigate wing.
“With the loss of the Crossbow while they were assigned to task force 58 their wing wasn’t complete anyways, and Maraat’s been bothering me since we launched that the wing needed some heavier cover. Plus, the Intrepid-class ships are the only capital ships we have that can keep up with the Sabers and Defiants in sub-light. T'Pan is a more experienced destroyer commander than Elisha, I mean captain Keyes, is so I merited my decision on that.”
“That's fine with me, and trust me I know how hard it is to say no to an Orion captain, especially a female such." He thought about it for a moment "T'Pan came from a Steamrunner command didn't he?"
"Correct, while Elisha as you well know is an experienced explorer commander." Henry nodded.
"Sounds good, and let’s keep the two Novas in reserve as well. I haven’t served with their commanding officers before, and I’m not too comfortable risking two inexperienced crews when I don’t necessarily have to. Same with the Gabriel, Michael and Excelsior.”
“Both carriers? Don’t you think we’d lose quite a lot of firepower?”
“Yes, but knowing Romulan tactics they’ll likely have cloaked ships on the perimeter that will try to ambush them either way, and we’d lose valuable ships from our capital strike in trying to defend them." The admiral explained. "We’re better off keeping them in reserve, as we'll most likely outnumber the raiding force using only capital ships and not launching fighters will reduce the risk of friendly fire incidents.”
"That is of course if this isn't all a Romulan trap, in which case we could well end up severely outnumbered ourselves." The captain replied fatalistically.
"In which case we'll be screwed either way." Admiral West replied with a scowl. "And we'd still be able to bring in the reserves guns blazing in less than a minute. I've seen them do combat launches, Henry. It doesn't take long."
“Roger that." The younger West nodded. "I'll relay that to the captains of the Akiras as well. No fighter launches until specifically ordered otherwise. Now, since you've decided we're to believe it's an attack, let’s get to work and draw up a battle plan.”
“Sounds good. Let’s tell the task force to increase to warp 9 while we work. If the Romulans are truly there, we'll want to get there as soon as possible. Let’s just hope there’s still someone around to appreciate the cavalry dropping in when we do.”

[Zcenicx]

"And then finally when he thought he was out of danger he came within inches of becoming the proverbial bug on the windscreen of a Nebula-class line cruiser."


SECTOR 23
FEDERATION SPACE


Lieutenant commander Davis was quite sure this was the worst day ever in his probably soon to end life. Not even a full hour ago he’d been in the mess hall of the Starbase eating his morning chow, having a pleasant conversation about the latest sporting results with his friends while laying one on the dashing young ensign Mendez in engineering as she'd entered. Now he was quite literally stuck all alone in the middle of nowhere with a Peregrine-II strike fighter strapped to his back, most of his friends already dead while dodging flak and trying to pick off the disruptors on the closest Warbird before they could cause even more damage to the station. Still, even though he consciously hated every second he was out here risking his life, he very much lived for it. The risk, the adrenaline, the constant stream of endorphins, it was like liquid excitement pumping through his veins. It takes a certain kind of person to be a fighter pilot, and Jack was definitely one of them.

He did realize the good guys were losing though. He was too smart not to, no matter what the comms told him. While he didn’t allow the thought to in any way influence his combat performance, it was quite evident to anyone with eyes and ears. Of the eight ships that were assigned to protect the Starbase one had been destroyed in a spectacular explosion that must have been a warp core breach and two more, both of the heavier Excelsior class, were visibly damaged and probably disabled since the amount of fire they'd put out had suddenly not just slowed down but stopped entirely.

He had seen one; he thought it was the Roosevelt, loose both her warp nacelles in a barrage of flaring explosions while the other whose name he didn't know had received a gash across the saucer pylon so deep that it had nearly separated the saucer from the engineering hull when her shields had failed. There were probably survivors in there still as both ships were still launching escape pods, and with any luck the poor souls inside would be able to escape the combat zone before the Romulans had finished with the rapidly decreasing defenses and started targeting the pods and wreckages. Romulans weren’t known to take a lot of prisoners, but then again they weren’t exactly known for being too nice to the ones they did either. Out of the two even Davis would've preferred the quick and painless death a disruptor offered compared to weeks of torture and probably death by starvation.

He performed a turn so sharp that the inertial dampeners were just barely able to cope, which took him over and almost scratching the paintjob of the nearest Warbird while all the time firing wildly at one of the protruding disruptor mounts. Had it not exploded in a bright flash as he rapidly closed the distance he would've probably impacted, instead his fighter came out the explosion with still partially molten debris clinging to the fuselage of the Peregrine. He didn’t care much about the debris, as his shields were already down and the emitters weren't in any shape to be reinitialized, but he did swallow twice when he noticed some of it had etched itself into the canopy and he realized he was lucky as hell it hadn't burned through as that would've opened the cockpit to space in a hurry.

The defenders were badly outnumbered and severely outgunned as the ships that had been stationed at the Starbase had been older designs even to begin with, though most of them had been refitted as much as possible in the limited time they had as they were taken out of mothballs during the Dominion war. Now, with only two Excelsiors, two Centaurs and a single Ambassador remaining operational the situation was quickly becoming desperate. The aged and by all rights obsolete ships weren't much to throw against the ten Warbirds with escorts that remained on the attacking side. If that was really how many they were, Jack had only seen ten so far but that didn’t mean they didn’t have more in reserve. Even so the Federation ships had fought valiantly so far, evident in no small part in the disabled Warbird that hung silently behind the Starbase visible through the numerous breaches in the stations hull, he just wasn't sure it'd make any real difference to the final outcome of the battle.

The Starbase itself was of an older design, constructed back in the time before the Algernon treaty, and hadn't been upgraded since long before the Dominion War. It had been hit badly and put out of commission right from the start. Even as the Romulans engaged, they had fired several volleys of disruptor fire at the station before they had turned to the starships. The main hangar doors had been severely damaged and were effectively welded together by the heat of the disruptor blasts, no doubt in an attempt to stop additional fighters from being deployed. Most of the phaser arrays and photon launchers had been destroyed early on as well, and to make matters worse they had scored a direct hit on one of the station's massive antimatter fuel pods, taking out at least half the torpedo launchers along with vaporizing a sizeable chunk of the station that stretched several decks. As it was, Starbase 10 was a sitting duck with almost no means left to defend itself.

Jack frowned as he dodged a foot-thick green particle beam that came within inches of his left nacelle. This was already a bad day for him. All he wanted to do now was to share it with these pointy-eared bastards.


USS ALBION
APPROACHING SECTOR 23


“Admiral, the fleet reports battle condition set and formations assumed. We're approaching Starbase 10 and we estimate we'll arrive within two minutes.”

Captain West had reassumed his neutral poker face, but his emotions were still there, hiding somewhere beneath that steel face. He had never liked going into battle, which many thought ironic seeing as how he’d been awarded several medals, including the Medal of Honor, for his achievements during the Dominion War. Still, knowing how to do a job well rarely required liking it and that was the case for most of the respectable Starfleet officers.

“Very well. Take us out of warp as close to the station as you can, and if at all possible between it and the Romulan advance.” The admiral looked at the main viewscreen as they closed in on their target. “Ensign, give me fleet-wide please."

As the communications link was established he continued.

"This is admiral West. We’re going to drop out of warp and as we do we will immediately engage the Romulan forces that are attacking Starbase 10 and its defense force. Stay in your assigned formations and watch out for friendly targets, orders will be channeled through your division commanders.”
“We have confirmations coming in sir. Venture, Challenger, Sherman, and Gallant report their divisions have linked up successfully. We’re in command of both the battle group and the main battlecruiser division.”
"Very well." The admiral nodded, and as the numbers on the console in front of him quickly approached zero he spoke up again. “Admiral to division commanders. Weapons are free, engage the enemy by division. Good luck and God speed." He turned to his brother. "Captain, she’s all yours.”


SECTOR 23


It was a beautiful sight, but man couldn’t they have decided to exit warp somewhere, anywhere, else?

Davis had almost gotten himself killed twice already, but getting shot down by a Warbird was something he was at least consciously prepared for. Flying headlong into the side of an Akira wasn’t, and probably never would be. He'd had to execute several emergency turns to avoid first a blue-glowing nacelle, then a nacelle pylon, and then finally when he thought he was out of danger he came within inches of becoming the proverbial bug on the windscreen of a Nebula-class line cruiser. What had earlier been empty space was now filled with what must have been a full Starfleet heavy cruiser attack wing, and definitely not somewhere you'd want to fly a small and damaged fighter on emergency boost.

Finally at least semi-safe, he allowed himself some breathing room by taking cover closely behind one of the new arrivals, an Akira that fired her heavy weapons in rapid succession as she slowly approached the now disorganized Romulan battle line. The Peregrine would typically have no problems keeping a cruiser between him and harm’s way even if the cruiser in question was pulling extreme maneuvers, and this one was only moving slowly and hardly evading at all which gave Davis some time to recover from his adrenaline high.

He definitely thought he’d earned a short break with the cavalry arriving, as unlike most of his squadron he was at least still alive, even though he was almost completely out of energy for his phasers and had already forgotten that the small craft had ever been equipped with micro-photon missiles as they'd run out that long ago. It felt like he'd been fighting for a week, and even though it was closer to an hour it was still a long fight by any measure as there'd been no chance or even any option to land to repair and rearm, much less get reinforcements.

He took a good look at the ship that he was taking cover behind. All in all the Akira wasn't really a beautiful ship. It’s sleek, has some curves, but it’s not meant to be good looking but instead designed to pack one hell of a punch. And that it did, with a vengeance. He almost kicked himself mentally for the apparent pun when the ship’s name became visible, the USS Avenger. As the Warbirds and their lighter escorts finally starter to respond to the new presence and tried to encircle the cruiser position she was momentarily cut off from her formation and almost surrounded, but one of their ships being surrounded didn’t prove to be that much of an issue for the Avenger, nor to the other cruisers in her wing.

The Akira class heavy cruisers are famous not only for their unique ability among the cruiser class ships to carry a two full starfighter wings, but also for having a superfluous number of quantum torpedo launchers mounted in pretty much every direction one could be pointed, even quite a lot more of them total than the much larger Sovereign battlecruiser has, which gives it effective firing solutions across its entire circumference. Most if not all of these were all of a sudden firing a near constant stream of torpedoes at the hostile battleships and frigate-sized escorts, plus the fact that the Avenger even when cut off wasn’t alone. The other cruisers had quickly regrouped and in turn surrounded the Romulans, trapping the Warbirds in a very deadly and equally effective zero-point energy warhead crossfire.

What had earlier been an almost entirely one-sided battle had now turned into an all-out slugging match between a dozen or so remaining Warbirds and escorts, many of their smaller brethren being little more than scrap after the Starfleet reinforcements arrived, and what looked like closer to thirty Starfleet ships. Not the older, refitted but still obsolete models that had gotten their behinds served on silver platters, but rather the newer top of the line ships. He smiled to himself as he saw three (three!!) of the sleek-looking Sovereign-class battlecruisers come about over the main battle plane and plow down straight through the Romulan center in triangle formation, phasers and torpedoes firing rapidly in every direction there was a target to be found. Seeing even one of these massive and highly advanced ships in battle was a rarity for a mere garrison pilot, seeing three of them at the same time and in a full battle formation was like a dream come true for the tired fighter pilot.


USS ALBION


"Sir" the communications officer kept her cool even as the ship was rocked by even more shield impacts. "The Temperance reports that her shields have been taken down to 22 percent, and is requesting permission to fall back and recycle her emitters before she suffers hull damage."
"Approve that request, ensign, and inform captain Claudier of the Sherman of this new development."

The admiral was keeping fairly calm as well, even though the battle was still raging on outside he was confident they'd win with what he'd been forced to call acceptable losses. His gut had been correct and they had the numerical superiority as well as the ever so important measure of surprise he'd been gambling on when they'd planned their counterattack. The Romulan D'deridex-class warship was indeed an impressive warship, capable of going head to head with just about any lone Starfleet cruiser except possibly an Akira, but even so they were not only outmatched three to one in this engagement but the admiral had more than just standard cruisers engaged in the battle as well.

Outside, the fleet's three Defiant-class gunships flew by in front of the Albion, their pulse phaser cannons firing rapidly and in unison, all three of them concentrating their fire on the dorsal shield emitters on one of the Warbirds. It didn't take many seconds until the shields buckled and the high-powered nadion particle pulses hit the hull, creating wide breaches and striking clean through to the decks below. Samuel looked away as he saw the last few pulses exit through the doomed ship's flank leaving the tell-tale glowing edges of a phaser weapon impact. He quickly wondered how many had died on that ship alone, then brushed that thought aside. He had enough to worry about in his own camp without wasting time thinking about enemy casualties.

Only two of the Warbirds remained by now and he quickly wondered why they didn't just withdraw, why they didn't seem to see the futility of attacking a full Federation battle group with only two damaged ships, but it was something he had gotten used to during the last few engagements they'd had with them. It was disconcerting, Romulans were normally much more intelligent than this but now they acted more like Klingons, dying as a way to gain honor rather than acknowledging defeat. Not that it really mattered in the tactical sense, they stayed and kept fighting and thus they simply had to be destroyed. Strategically however it became an increasingly severe problem as this also increased the Starfleet losses.

He was brought back to reality by the sound of his brother's voice. "Lock on to the Warbird attacking the Centaur and fire a spread of quantum torpedoes."

The tactical officer didn't even bother to respond, but rather just executed the order. Three glowing blue balls shot out of the front of the ship and carved a bluish streak clean through the busy space. The Romulans kept firing on the nearby Centaur and took no evasive action, as if they didn't even see the bright blue heralds of death as they were rapidly approaching. They impacted close to each other on the starboard wing, neatly shearing it off from the rest of the fuselage and leaving the Warbird tumbling uncontrollably in space as it quickly lost engine power.

"All torpedoes scored direct hits. She's incapacitated, captain. Reading hull breaches across several decks and what looks like catastrophic life support failure."
"May whatever gods they worship have mercy on their souls." The captain almost looked sad. "What's the status of the remaining Warbirds?"
"Only one still remains, Venture, Bellerophon and Lexington are already engaging."

The lieutenant in charge of the tactical systems clearly didn't think a single and heavily damaged D'deridex would be much of an issue for three modern and fully operational Starfleet ships, and there was definitely some truth to that opinion. A Galaxy-class battlecruiser should be able to handle an undamaged Warbird alone, even if probably not leaving the battle unscathed, and with a Galaxy being backed up by both a Nebula and an Intrepid the outcome was effectively guaranteed before the engagement even began. A bright flash on the main viewscreen prompted another dry comment.

"Correction, sir. No hostile ships remain operational."

The admiral rose from his seat close to the comms console. "Good work, good work all of you. Now let's see what we've arrived to. Try to get a signal through to the survivors on Starbase 10, and get me a report on the status on the defense force and survivors."

He just knew this was going to be yet another long day.

[Zcenicx]

"Lieutenant, if we were standing still and pushing the engines this hard we'd be ripped to pieces by the warp field strain alone. It's physically impossible."


USS ALBION
TWO HOURS LATER


Captain West looked out through the small window in his ready room. His brother had already beamed over to the Starbase and that had effectively left him, as being the captain of the task force's flagship, in charge of the spaceborne search and rescue operations. Starbase 10 had been the task force's home base for the last two weeks, ever since they'd been transferred to the front, but looking at the scarred structure now it was hard to imagine it had even been operational just a few hours ago.

The station had been a standard Type-IV Starbase, the kind that was deployed all along the Romulan Neutral Zone back in the bad old days. When completely manned it was supposedly capable of supporting an entire fleet of starships, but since its glory days during the previous conflict with the Romulans it had effectively been mothballed. Only recently with the new conflict already raging had it been reactivated and still had not even been half-manned, a comment that was more than just somewhat misleading considering 'half manned' in the case of a Federation starbase meant 'only' close to a eighty thousand people or so. The combined ship crews of the entire task force barely reached fifteen thousand, but then again they didn't have the amounts of support personnel that any Starbase required, nor families or civilians. Even a fairly small Federation starbase was by any other civilization's measure a massive structure, and a forward base type such as the Type-IV wasn't even close to be considered small as its top section was well over a kilometer and a half in diameter.

From this far away the station almost looked undamaged to the untrained eye, but of course Henry knew better, he had been forced to maneuver the Albion close enough to the station to cut open the hangar doors with precision fire from his ventral phaser arrays. The station was in fact more than just severely damaged, damage in numerous sections was so extreme that the station barely even held together, and he was quite astounded that as many people as did had survived and that most of the structure still had a breathable atmosphere. The top section was marked with pitch-black carbon scoring in numerous locations where the armor had stood up to the repeated disruptor blasts. In other areas deep holes and craters could be found, some extending several hundred meters into the structure, and in rare occasions straight through to the other side which was actually quite an achievement considering the distances and sheer amounts of armor and structure that was involved in such a feat.

Still, perhaps the most disturbing part of it all was the three hundred meter in diameter crater in the lower structure, caused by the large antimatter fuel pod's catastrophic failure. A single hole, wide enough to fly his entire starship into. The only consolation was that the antimatter pods were stored as far away from populated areas as possible, and that the fail-safe mechanisms of the other three pods had successfully kicked in and prevented a massive chain-reaction detonation. If not, Henry doubted if there'd be any survivors at all.

The fleet quartermasters were already assessing the damage, and calculating the estimated repair times and cost estimates, but he already knew the station was in all relevant aspects a lost cause. There was simply no chance this station could be feasibly repaired with a war going on, and even in peacetime it was just as likely it'd simply be replaced by a more modern station or just be retired completely. There was simply no real gain to be had in repairing a more than a century old and technologically completely obsolete space station. He silently let the quartermasters bicker on about material requirements and focused on the more realistic problem of evacuating more than fifty thousand survivors and whatever spare parts and ordnance that could be salvaged from the wreckage before they scuttled the remains. If nothing else they could definitely use a refill of their torpedo stores.


SECTOR 23, FEDERATION SPACE
USS ALBION, CONFERENCE ROOM


Admiral’s log, Stardate 57502.4.
Copy to Commander of Starfleet Operations and Fifth Fleet Headquarters.

We finally have the full results of the battle. The butcher's bill is staggering to say the least, yet one has to remember the fact that it could have been so much worse had we arrived only minutes later. As usual it's hard to get a clear picture of the Romulan losses, as there's usually not a whole lot left when a Starfleet vessel has a core breach but even less in the case of a Romulan ship. A quantum singularity doesn't leave much behind to be identified. We have confirmed nine D'deridex were destroyed by the task force, and sensor logs indicate another two were taken down by the station defense force. Another twenty or so escorts have also been confirmed destroyed. The assumption we have to make is that they went down with all hands as we never detected any life pods, but while there's no evidence to suggest otherwise it doesn't mean it's necessarily true. For all we know, their pods may be cloaked.

The crippled Excelsiors, the Roosevelt and the Potomac, had to be evacuated as they had sustained damage far too severe to be repaired in the field or for them to realistically survive us towing them to a repair facility. Their hulls were simply too damaged. The Roosevelt lost both her warp nacelles and had several deep breaches along the port-side engineering hull, while the Potomac’s bridge pylon finally gave in separating the saucer from the rest of the ship. Their supplies, crew and vital components have been removed and the ships are being scuttled by being towed into the local star. Of the total 1300 crew, 600 were rescued along with captain Bryn of the Roosevelt. Captain M'zari of the Potomac died along with most of her command staff as the bridge was hit directly by a disruptor blast. However, by using components cannibalized from the two ships, captain Sato reports the Excelsior is once again in full working order. Most of what and who could be saved from the two ships have been redistributed along the task force's own three Excelsiors as these will be able to utilize them directly.

The Centaur suffered major damage during the engagement; our engineers believe it unlikely she will ever be able to fly again. The damage to her nacelles, warp reactor and shield systems is extensive. Still, most of the crew survived and have been evacuated to the Venture along with what could be salvaged of the ship's supplies. Unfortunately we were unable to find any survivors at all from the Crazy Horse. According to the sensor logs, she went down with all hands due to a warp containment breach caused by several torpedoes impacting the engineering deck, at least one being a direct hit to the reactor room. Captain West will have to bear the grim news to his wife and her family. The Crazy Horse’s officers and crew will be mourned by us all.

The remaining ships in the defense force have all been damaged, some extensively, but are still warp capable or at least towable. They have already been ordered to withdraw to the nearest secure Starbase for repairs using a roundabout route to avoid any unsecured areas. Judging by the force the Romulans used in this attack they wouldn't stand a chance against another attack if one came and I'm not comfortable sacrificing four ships and crews for one crippled Starbase.

While on the subject... We had to cut the Starbase's hangar doors open with our phasers to gain access. Vice admiral Thornwall had been mortally wounded in the engagement and while I saw her in sickbay shortly after the engagement ended she hadn't regained consciousness and passed away shortly thereafter. The doctors say her wounds were too severe and that she had lost far too much blood before she got there for there to have been any chance of saving her.

Captain Blake, the fleet liaison, was unfortunately killed in the antimatter pod explosion. Most of the command and control staff however did somehow manage to survive, as did more than half the personnel on the station. I have made a battlefield command decision to abandon and scuttle what's left of Starbase 10 due to the excessive damage suffered and the state of the systems that still remain partially operational.

All available space on the ships in the task force have been converted to storage and living quarters, and we have already begun evacuating the survivors. This is naturally going to impact our combat ability as several of our ships won't be able to launch fighters or shuttles as in some cases the hangars are being filled with evacuees, spare parts or munitions. Luckily we haven't had to use any of the critical areas yet, though I keep that option open if necessary. I won't cram people into torpedo tubes, but I won't leave people behind either.

As soon as we're finished here we'll take an indirect path back to fifth fleet headquarters at Deep Space 7, mainly in an attempt to avoid further engagements if we can. We'll be carrying a precious cargo we can't take any extraordinary risks with. By the time we leave, we'll be carrying over 20,000 crew, 5,000 marines and a grand total of over 70,000 total evacuated personnel and civilians.

Computer, end log.


USS ATLANTIS, COMMAND BRIDGE
EN ROUTE TO DEEP SPACE 7, FEDERATION SPACE
JULY 4TH, 2380. 6:00 AM


Bridge log, commander Seth Williams. Stardate 57506.1.

There's much to be said about this posting, but there's never a dull moment on the front line. Lately, that has been true even for the graveyard shift. An Akira-class heavy cruiser is a fine piece of warship, but it was never designed to handle evacuees and certainly not the large amounts we have on board presently. With the number we've been asked to carry I'm actually quite surprised we haven't been forced to jettison some of the Peregrines just to get some free space to house them in the hangar bay. Of course, the admiral specifically ordered us not to without his express permission.

Doing so would free up enough space to house another three, four hundred or so evacuees albeit not very comfortably, but it would of course drastically reduce our combat capacity and force us to resupply a lot more and a bit earlier than planned. As it is I'm fairly confident we could move most of the people out of the hangar in case of emergency and actually be able to launch the fighters, though I wouldn't recommend doing so for any extended period of time. Our life support systems are having enough problems keeping up as it is without us cramming the corridors and Jeffrey's tubes full of semi-panicked men, women and children.

This is the first officer of the USS Atlantis. We're currently traveling towards Deep Space 7 at warp 8, holding a standard diamond formation with the Venture as lead.

End log.

Seth looked around the dimly-lit bridge for a second as the log console retracted back into the armrest of the captain's chair. Being on the night shift usually meant spending a few hours of fairly boring time on the bridge making sure the ship didn't drift out of formation and that their warp field didn't graze any other ships'. If that happened the consequences could very well be disastrous, especially in the tight formation they were traveling in, but the computerized navigation system rarely if ever had trouble keeping its distance without being constantly monitored. Still, better safe and bored than sorry and dead.

"Commander, could you take a look at this please."

The young second lieutenant in charge of the sensor console was a quite good looking dark haired Betazoid. Commander Williams rose from his seat and went over to the science station.

"Report, lieutenant."
"Commander, I can't make heads or tails of this sensor report. Engine output and warp field dynamics indicate we're supposed to be moving at warp 8, but according to the rest of the sensors we haven't moved at all for at least the last ten minutes. Astrometric sensors seem to be indicating the same phenomena as well, as our position relative to the closest stars has remained exactly the same."
"That can't be right." The commander made a quick mental calculation. "At warp 8 we should be moving at just over a thousand times the speed of light, a light week in the last ten minutes alone."
"I know, sir, but that's not what the sensors are saying."
"Lieutenant, if we were standing still and pushing the engines this hard we'd be ripped to pieces by the warp field strain alone. It's physically impossible. Not to mention that according to these same sensors which say we're standing still the rest of the task force are pushing just as many cochranes through their warp fields as we are."
"I know, sir, but the alternative would be that all measurable stars and stellar objects were moving at the same speed too, and all of them in the exact same direction."
"Yes, I know, and that's also impossible." He stood up straight. "Bridge to engineering."
"Engineering here, go ahead commander."
"What's up with the sensors?"

[Zcenicx]

“Well, Toto, I have a strong feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“Not even close, Sam.”


USS DARWIN, ASTROMETRICS LAB
TEN MINUTES LATER.


Though no human who saw him would call it that, T'Var had actually hurried as he'd made his way to the astrometrics lab. He had been roused just a few minutes earlier by the watch officer who politely conveyed a request from the admiral that he should report there at his earliest convenience. Of course, convenience didn't really matter to T'Var, and he suspected the word had not actually been used by the admiral either but rather was an addition by the watch officer who probably thought it would hurt the Vulcan's feelings less about being roused as early as he had, or that it'd make the ship's first officer less irritated. Illogical, but hardly unexpected of a Human.

"Commander T'Var to Albion, reporting as ordered."
"Admiral West here." The admiral sounded tired but considering the early hour T'Var wasn't really surprised.
"Admiral, this is commander T'Var, I am the first and science officer on the Darwin."
"Commander. I hope you’re able to tell us what's happening?"
"Unfortunately, I would have to disappoint you by saying no." T'Var paused as he triple-checked his screens. "What I can tell you is that we seem to be, for lack of a better word, stuck in a bubble of subspace. How this happened, or for that matter what end effects this may have, is as of yet unknown to me."
"Can you extrapolate on that 'stuck in a bubble' part?" The admiral's voice requested.
"I will try, admiral." T'Var thought for a second. "For an unknown reason the thirty-two ships of Task Force 43 have been separated from our normal space-time. This is the reason our sensors are not able to track our location or movement in either space or time, but instead report what I'd most closely describe as an echo imprinted on the surface of the bubble. Due to our close proximity to each other it does however seem all the ships in the task force are enveloped in the same anomaly and not several different ones."

A small line formed on T'Var’s forehead, giving him a concerned or perhaps worried look. It was, as always, hard to assign emotions to the minute facial expressions of a Vulcan, but this one was clear enough to be apparent to most other humanoids.

"As you know, subspace does not conform to the normal laws of space time. Truthfully, admiral, I have no idea if, where, or for that sake when we will be able to exit this bubble, or even where we are presently."
"So we're lost in space?"
"And time, admiral."
"Great." T'Var could hear the frown that presently dressed the admiral's face. "West out."

T'Var went back to study the sensor output again. He hadn't misread them. For some reason which he couldn't explain he had hoped that he had. He was Vulcan, and as such considered himself an embodiment of logic and reason. But as their current situation was anything but logical he felt himself frustrated as he was unable to do his duty. Hopelessness, as well as helplessness, can both be considered emotions and while he wasn't used to either he was quite sure that he felt both right now as he could not understand nor explain the situation, or for that sake do anything about it.

Of course, neither could anyone else, and among everyone that knew what was happening the feeling was quite mutual.


USS ALBION
CONFERENCE ROOM
1100 HOURS STANDARD TIME


Admiral West looked upon the people that were seated around the fairly large conference table. Each and every one of them looked just as tired and worried as he did, yet he saw something that they all tried to hide as well as they could. It was most definitely fear, but not the calculated fear that one could expect from someone who at least knows what they’re up against but instead it was a colder, more sinister fear that creeps up along your back as you’re pulled into a situation you have absolutely no control over or even an understanding of.

Personally he thought their current situation was much like being trapped in a sinking ship. Sooner or later you'd either drown, or someone may come and rescue you. You won’t know until you’re either dead or rescued and there’d be nothing you could do about it. Ironically even he could see the morbidity of him comparing the situation his task force was in with the axiom of Schrodinger's cat. The Admiral tried to keep calm however, and however hard it was he tried to do his best to convey that feeling to his subordinates. He was at least somewhat successful.

“Well people, we’ve been in here for hours now." He suppressed a yawn. "What new information do we have?”
“Admiral, I’m sorry to say that there isn’t really that much more news at all to report.” The grey-haired commander Suvok, science officer of the Albion, was the first to speak. “We’ve managed to receive some signals from outside our bubble in space, but we’ve encountered problems when we try to analyze them.” West noticed Suvok didn’t look afraid like the other people. Damn Vulcans. After a short pause he continued. “There are other issues as well. It seems my colleague on the Darwin was incorrect about one thing.”
“In what way, commander?” Now he really had the attention of everyone in the room.
“We’re not just unstuck in time and space, but according to what little information the sensors are able to glean from the outside and we can actually make sense of, we’re also passing through a number of alternate realities. At least one of these signals had a Terran Alliance pattern, one which we know belongs in a parallel universe, while others have signatures that are completely unknown to us.”

If there was ever a comment less appreciated, no one present knew of it.

“Well then.“ West tried desperately to regain control of his dumbstruck expression. “Does anyone have any ideas? Anything at all would be appreciated at this point, no matter how insane it sounds in your head.”
There was absolute silence in the room. The Admiral thought he could probably hear a needle fall, everyone was that silent. They didn’t even move. Then he heard the almost embarrassed voice of a young engineer West thought was named Andrews. “Admiral, if I may, there might be a way but I suspect you’d probably call it drastic, and quite possibly dangerous almost to the point of suicidal.”
“I’m all ears, ensign. Please continue.”


1 HOUR LATER


First there was simply the sensation of falling, and then there was real falling. As the ship suddenly and completely stopped moving the admiral thought he’d broken every single bone in his body. He had been totally unprepared for the fall just having exited the ready room, and had thus not only fallen to the ground but tumbled down the entire length of the bridge finally being halted by impacting the forward bulkhead. Not exactly the most distinguished bridge entrance he’d made in his career, but quite possibly the most painful.

He'd known that there'd be quite a bit of a shock as the entire task force shut down their warp engines abruptly, not through the usual procedure of a quick but still gradual shutdown but in this case by simply closing the injectors and letting the engines for lack of a better description stall out. There was a reason the maneuver had required disabling numerous engine and reactor safety protocols, and this was it. Even the best inertial dampeners in the known galaxy couldn't really fully cope with that kind of deceleration, and a real worry was that they wouldn't cope at all but leave the crews as paste on the forward walls of every room they occupied.

“REPORT!!” He said a bit too sharply, though the evident pain in his voice softened it a bit.
“Sir, the maneuver worked and we’ve successfully managed to re-enter normal space again, engineering reports that the ship's in good condition with the only side effect being minor stress damage to the outer hull." The operations officer reported as he read the reports coming in from the rest of the ship. "Sickbay likewise reports only minor injuries, mostly bruises, abrasions, cuts and a few broken bones. Nothing really serious and no fatalities.”
“What about the rest of the fleet?” If the Albion had experienced this much of a disturbance as they exited the bubble, the admiral was truly concerned about the smaller ships in the fleet.
“Reports are still coming in, sir." The communications officer replied, and then frowned. "That's strange. All of the task force should have dropped out within seconds of each other, and probably still be in formation."
"And?" West asked.
"Well, as it is we're scattered over an area of almost two entire light weeks, and judging by the timestamps on some of the reports I'm receiving the first ship dropped out fifteen minutes ago and others are still nowhere to be found."
"What was that T'Var was saying?" West made a deep sigh. "Space and time?"
"Well, so far no ships report any kind of major damage. Atlantis suffered an overload of an EPS conduit but her repair crews are already working on it. Gabriel reports three crewmen seriously injured, apparently they were pinned between a bulkhead and a Peregrine that tore loose from the securing bolts, and the Columbia has lost main power but is in otherwise good condition.” He made a short pause. “Sir, Lexington reports the only fatality so far. One of their engineering crew lost his footing and fell down an access shaft.”
“He fell?” Somehow, the admiral thought it was just a ridiculous way to die on a starship.
“Yes sir. He fell. Straight down the entire length of the port nacelle pylon.” He paused. "That's a drop of roughly fifty meters, sir, and he died instantly as he impacted the warp plasma containment field."

The admiral almost winced and made a pained face. Suddenly it wasn’t as ridiculous anymore. The lower, or upper depending on the hull configuration, section of an active nacelle pylon will easily reach temperatures of well over a thousand degrees centigrade, and the magnetic containment fields were by necessity so highly charged they'd tear out the iron from your blood straight through your skin if you were unfortunate enough to get too close. Falling straight into this hellhole would be instantly fatal and leave little behind to identify.

“Acknowledge the reports and make a note in the log." West moaned from the pain in his side. "Now, can anyone tell me where we are?”
“Samuel” Captain West stood over by the science console alongside commander Suvok. “You’d better take a look at this.”
Steadying himself on the rails and limping over to his brother, the admiral looked down at the console. It took a few moments before he could make sense of the information on it. “Okay.” He whistled silently as the realization dawned. “Well, Toto, I have a strong feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“Not even close, Sam.”
“Well, tell me if we find the Tin Woodman or the Scarecrow around here somewhere, would you?” And with that final comment, the admiral collapsed into unconsciousness. The doctor would later tell him it was due to the combined effects of stress, injury and sleep deprivation.


USS ALBION, CAPTAINS QUARTERS
2 HOURS LATER


Captains log, Stardate 57507.0.

Or, well, that's the date it should be, and it’s what the ship’s computer says it is. It’s according to what I've been told not quite true anymore though. It seems Suvok and T’Var were right about one thing at least; we most certainly were floating through space, time and alternate realities. We’re not even close to Deep Space 7, or for that sake the Romulan Neutral Zone. In reality we exited the warp bubble close to Vulcan, or what at least should be the planet Vulcan. The system’s still here, more or less in the right place, as is the planet.

What's not there though is any evidence to support that the planet ever developed sentient life in this reality, something the Vulcans in the crew seem to handle with far too much ease for my nerves. The entire system seems void of any trace of intelligent life. There is plant life, as well as a limited fauna on both Vulcan and one of her moons, but that’s about it. No artificial objects, not even debris, have been detected anywhere in the system, and I've had both destroyer wings do extensive sensor sweeps to make sure. We also haven't been able to detect the slightest trace of subspace communications, something which is ominous to say the least considering our close proximity to numerous other Federation home worlds including our own.

According to the astrometric sensors, stellar drift calculations and background radiation levels, the more correct date would be July 5th, 2243 – not July 5th, 2380. As my brother is still recuperating in sickbay I’ve taken the liberty to send the two Nova-class science vessels to make a survey of the local cluster in this reality, each with a Defiant gunship acting as close escort just in case.

Suvok and his scientific colleagues in the fleet have already made it perfectly clear that we’re stuck here with no apparent way home, at least for the time being, and that extensive research will need to be made into the phenomena that brought us here before we can even make any guesses as to whether it'll ever be possible. That being said, we need to know what we’re dealing with and what we can do as just idling in orbit around an uninhabited planet isn't really a viable long-term solution.

Standard procedure would dictate that we land the ships, establish a small colony somewhere and follow the prime directive living out our lives without attracting any attention. This is probably good and well dealing with just the crew of a single starship, but it will prove hard to do with a fleet of ships and roughly a hundred thousand people. There's simply no way we can support a population of that size without retaining our technological level, and that'll require both supplies and a comparatively significant industrial base.

With this system as empty as it is, I’ve dispatched the Intrepids to make surveys of the local astral bodies. If this system is anything like the Vulcan I know, there should be plenty of resources we could use if we do decide to settle down. At the very least we’ll start needing to replenish our deuterium and antimatter supplies fairly soon. The cruisers and explorer ships in the fleet were designed to operate for extended periods of time, but this is unfortunately not quite as true for the smaller vessels and the larger lack the capacity to produce enough to spare especially with the increased load carrying five times the recommended maximum amount of people puts on the secondary systems such as life support and replicators.

Still, as the skies above Vulcan seem abandoned enough for now we’re awaiting the return of the Darwin and Icarus, and for the admiral to return to duty before we make any more decisions about our future ‘here in the rabbit hole’, as my dear brother would say.

Computer, end log.

[Zcenicx]

Author's notes:

These three parts are pretty much the Trekverse prequel to the story, and I felt I had to give them a better sendoff. All in all, the piece is ~5k words longer than it used to be.

Total change B-1: 8,200 to 12,700 words

Background
Due to some timeline issues I had to rephrase a lot, and ended up rewriting almost the entire piece to also include some basics for technologies and uses for existing such I invented myself. The way it ended up being finished is also more in line with the events preceding the Titan series and the later Borg invasion of 2381.
Progression: ~950 to ~1750 words.

Prologue
Fixed a number of things I later changed in the story, such as ship names, and also changed numerous details to give an overall more descriptive and dramatic writing style. Admiral West's feelings about the Romulans and the actual background the war gives become a lot clearer.
Progression: ~685 to ~970 words.

Chapter 1 - Prequel
I was about to say the chapter underwent some spit and polish, but after checking my original version versus the new one I actually added about 50% more words and removed about half the commas.
Progression: ~6560 to ~10,000 words(!)
- I changed out my never since mentioned security guards to the Starfleet Marines I use later in the story, and lined up the entire chapter so it doesn't contradict later descriptions especially of the West brothers.
- I added a bit of a dark feeling to the chapter overall, and in my own opinion at least I've improved the battle descriptions to the same standards as those I've written later in the story.
- Davis (the SB10 fighter jock I reuse and abuse later on as well) also gets a confidence boost and some actual feelings in this version.
- I also rewrote the Starbase's descriptive narrative to make its fate more realistic.
- I fixed a great deal of names and ships and their correlations to correspond to their introduction in later chapters, such as Elisha Keyes being the captain of the Bellerophon and not some never again heard of Trill.
- Also, I actually wrote several new lines which now describes just how they actually got out of the subspace event, and a number of lines to introduce the reader to the temporal distances involved in it.
- Added some personality to the West brothers, as well as some changes that makes their dynamic better suited to that in later chapters, and hints to future developments as well.

...and more, that I didn't bother writing down.

[kclcmdr]

Banzai, Sir Z.... Welcome Back...

TOC :
Zcenicx - Task Force 43 v3 (Archive Story Only)
Taskforce43_ST_B5 XOver Ver.3
AUTHOR_______CHAPTER________TITLE____________Description_________________


Zcenicx.FAQ -.ReWrite3 -_TF43; Archives; CreativeLicence; Feds/B5; Scale; Power; Weaponary; Engines; Reality
Zcenicx.BackGround -.2380 -_DominionWar; StarFleet; Romulans; Archangel, Sovereign, BalanceOfPower, VoyagerTech, Remans
Zcenicx.32 Avatar Personæ -.Appendix -_Valkyria DN; Sovereign BC; Akira CA; Nebula CL; Luna CLAA; Nova FF; BaseStation
Zcenicx.StarBase Babylon -.Babylon5 -_FedBuilt; Blue-SF; Green-Diplo; Red-Commerical; Brown-Residential; Grey-Mech_Eng; Yellow-MAM
Zcenicx.Starships1 -.Starfleet -_Excalibur CA; Stargazer CAh; Hephaestus CAe; Noble CAa; Nomad CA
Zcenicx.Starships2 -.Starfleet -_Maelstrom = NCC-95812 (Armoured); Typhoon (Armored Nacelles)

Zcenicx.Prologue -.DeepSpace7 -_TaskForce43; RomulanBorder, Hit&Run, StarShipRecall, Warp6
Zcenicx.CH_01a -.TF43 -_Albion; YellowAlert, Henry&Samuel, Padd&Sensors, Garrison10, Romulans
Zcenicx.CH_01b -.Sector23 -_Davis, Roosevelt, SB10, West, WarpingIn, Akira, Albion, Defiants, RomulanWarbirds KIA'd
Zcenicx.CH_01c -.USSAlbion -_Losses, Capt.West, StarBase10 Smashed, Butcher'sBill, Blake, Seth, Moving Yet Not
Zcenicx.CH_01d -.USS Darwin -_T'Var, West, BubbleWarpEffect, Conference, Suvok, BrakingManeuvers, WrongPlace
Zcenicx.CH_02a -.USS Darwin -_Recon, T'Pell&T'Var, Deschamps, Tachyons??, Alpha Centauri, Humans!, MoreQuestions
Zcenicx.CH_02b -.USS Icarus -_Jameson, Vree?, NoVulcans&Romulans, NoBajor; Bellerophon, Keyes, Darl&Elisha
Zcenicx.CH_02c -.USS Darwin -_SimiliarEarth, T'Var&Deschamps, Jameson, LeagueRaces, TF34 Hiding in EA Space
Zcenicx.CH_03a -.USS Albion -_Sickbay, Samuel, Reports, Duval&Sheila, Blake, SB10 Survivors, Crew Survival&Comfort
Zcenicx.CH_03b -.USS Albion -_Jameson&Duval, Conference&Options, Settling, T'Vell&Keyes, HoloDeck, Deschamps, Sirius
Zcenicx.CH_03c -.USS Michael -_Jack, Sirius III, Home; Parker, SensorGhosts, Mordechai, Centauri Court
Zcenicx.CH_04a -.Sirius III -_ElysiumSettlement, Colonize, Ha'sra, Tellarite, Jameson, ModularBldgs
Zcenicx.CH_04b -.Geneva EA -_FemaleSpy, Reports&Observations, Telepath, EarthDomeComplex; Elysium, Elisha&West
Zcenicx.CH_05a -.Sirius III -_T'Pell&West, Tolar; EarthDome, Alfred&Spy, DeWalt Scan'd, DamnedNecessary
Zcenicx.CH_05b -.Geneva EA -_Parker, DataCrystals; Phi; T'Pell, SpecialStarship, Shenar; Oslo; West, AFS Thy'lek Shran
Zcenicx.CH_06a -.Centaurus -_Evolution&Centaurians, Shran&Shenar; Proxima; Korolev, FirstContact, AFS Shran, T'Pell&Tolar
Zcenicx.CH_06b -.DeepSpace -_Jameson, RedAlert, WarpDestabilizing, Intruder, Torpedo&Phaser, FlowerShip
Zcenicx.CH_07a -.Sirius -_Orbit, West&Keyes, Aquilae, USS Icarus, LimpingHome, USS Michael, Scramble, AlphaWing
Zcenicx.CH_07b -.Icarus -_Jameson, AquilaeStation, Elisha, Alpha9, Davis, West&Keyes, NeutralZone, Relief
Zcenicx.CH_08a -.Proxima -_T'Pell&Sheridan, Novas, DilgarWar, Markab, Tolar; Sirius; West, Keyes, Promotions
Zcenicx.CH_08b -.SF Cmd -_Icarus, UnknownRace, FlowerShip, Jahari, West, Elisha, FleetActivities
Zcenicx.CH_08c -.SF Cmd -_Meeting, T'Pell&Keyes, MothBall, Jahari, EA Designs; Elysium; West&Sheila, Kiss&Love
Zcenicx.CH_09a -.Venture -_Cleves, TheBorder, Ehm, Scanning, Protoplasmic? Energy??, New LifeForms
Zcenicx.CH_09b -.Sirius III -_Elisha&West, Keyes, Excelsiors, EMH System, TechImprovements, Projects
Zcenicx.CH_09c -.Darwin -_SigmaDraconis, Inhabited, T'Var, Pre-Warp CIV, Deschamps, Fed Survivors
Zcenicx.CH_10a -.Elysium -_Christmas, Sammy&West, Memorial, Plans, Elisha, Big I, Secret
Zcenicx.CH_10b -.Sirius III -_StationMeeting, West, Elisha, Darwin, Samuel
Zcenicx.CH_10c -.Aquilae -_Cleves&Deschamps, Sensors, BioStructure, Keyes, T'Var, Fellow Feds
Zcenicx.CH_10d -.Independence -_West&Sheila, Robots, Clearance, John Hancock AI,
Zcenicx.CH_11a -.NewEdinburgh -_Prof.Stevenson&Diane, History, Faith, AgeTurmoil, Jonah, BeamUp
Zcenicx.CH_11b -.UnknownLOC -_Diane&Jonah, Corridors, Meeting, Conversation, TheView
Zcenicx.CH_11c -.PolarOrbit -_Stevenson&Diane, UFP?, OldLegends, West, Speculations, Draconians
Zcenicx.CH_11d -.HoursLater -_Recital, Victoria, Jonah&Suvok, West, Hologram, Henry, EnteringOrbit
Zcenicx.CH_12a -.SigmaDraconis -_Diplomats, Ambassador, Fontaine&Cook, Chancellor, History, Avators
Zcenicx.CH_12b -.USS Abion -_Stevenson&Kelly, Antimatter, Jonah, Plasma, Tech, C, Victoria, Michelle
Zcenicx.CH_12c -.NewLondon -_CouncilChambers, Callaghan&Bannerman, Fontaine, EHM, SubSpaceBubble, Halsey
Zcenicx.CH_13a -.Aquilae -_Sirius; Keyes&Korash, Detection, Elisha, Bellerophon, Sophia, HyperspaceEvent
Zcenicx.CH_13b -.Endeavour -_Fontaine, Cook, Halsey, Albion, Tactical, Enemy Ships
Zcenicx.CH_13c -.Endeavour -_Cook&LaSalle; Vorlons; Apprehension, StarFleet, Battle, BOOM!
Zcenicx.CH_13d -.Endeavour -_Cook, PPCs, Marcel, LaSalle, Halsey, Vorlon DNs, Evasive
Zcenicx.CH_14a -.Endeavour -_Cook&Halsey, Albion, West, Draconis III, Victoria&Stevenson, Jonah, Suvok
Zcenicx.CH_14b -.NewLondon -_PhoenixCouncil, Callaghan&Britney, Keyes, Wardens, USS Michael, Gonzo
Zcenicx.CH_15a -.Albion -_Draconis, Victoria&West, Hancock, Vorlons, Vancouver, FlowerShips
Zcenicx.CH_15b -.Endeavour -_Cook&Marcel, Discovery, Rodriguez, Halsey, Keyes&Kira
Zcenicx.CH_15c -.Albion -_Elisha&West, Keyes, DivineMichael, KnowKNOW, Judgment, VorlonsBaffled
Zcenicx.CH_15d -.Draconis -_Davis&Seraph, VorlonsWithdraw, Victoria&West, Endeavour&Discovery
Zcenicx.CH_16a -.Endeavour -_Batter'd, Halsey, Elysium, Fontaine, Murdoch, Cook, HumptyDumpty
Zcenicx.CH_16b -.Albion -_Meeting, Warders&Seleyans, Suvok, Vorlons, Sheila, West, Hancock, Duval
Zcenicx.CH_16c -.Phoenix -_Draconis, Council, Plague, Covert, FederationReborn, Speech
Zcenicx.CH_17a -.Sirius -_Elysium; Bannerman, Vim&Jar, Herron, Replicators, STCommand
Zcenicx.CH_17b -.Elysium -_Bannerman, West&Keyes, TechTrade, Fontaine, Draconians
Zcenicx.CH_17c -.SigmaDraconis -_Halsey, TheBattle, Stevenson, Jonah, Cook, Athena
Zcenicx.CH_18a -.SiriusSys -_Endeavour, Cook&Halsey, KIAs, Promotions&Transfers, LaSalle
Zcenicx.CH_18b -.Elysium -_SFCmD, Halsey, Avators, Jahari&Suvok, Black&Anderson, West, Valkyria
Zcenicx.CH_19a -.Sirius -_Odin, New Starship, Jahari, Halsey, Mist, Advance AI, Humour
Zcenicx.CH_19b -.Odin -_ValkyriaClass, Shakedown, Black&Halsey, Char, Cadets, Suvok, Mist
Zcenicx.CH_19c -.OrionSys -_T'Pell, Sheridan, Lexington, The Shran
Zcenicx.CH_20a -.SiriusSys -_AquilaeStation, VorlonDebris, Elisha&Athena, LondoMsg
Zcenicx.CH_20b -.EarthDome -_Geneva, Spy, Lefcourt&Sheridan, Jankowski, Kyle&Hicks, Parker
Zcenicx.CH_20c -.AFS Shran -_OrionSys, Tolar&T'Pell, Odin&Shran, Halsey, Shenar, Iona TheGhost
Zcenicx.CH_21a -.Sirius -_Elysium, Hawkes&West, West, EA&Minbari, FirstContact
Zcenicx.CH_21b -.SF CmD -_Sheila&West, Samuel, Nelson, Independence, Horatio, Duty
Zcenicx.CH_21c -.Sirius -_Avenger, Quinn, Grayson, Shipyard, Tyrell, Michael, Hawkes, Helen
Zcenicx.CH_22a -.BetaRigel -_Odin, Halsey&T'Pell, EA&Minbari, TechDiff, Black, Char&Suvok
Zcenicx.CH_22b -.Odin -_HyperspaceVortexes, EA, Minbari, Sensors, Errors, EA Fires, Black&Mist
Zcenicx.CH_22c -.Sirius -_Albion, Victoria&Henry, Cmdrs, EA Beta7 KIA'd, Jahari&Samuel, West
Zcenicx.CH_23a -.JerichoC -_T'Pell, Minbari Genocide, Sheridan, TheHunt, Tolar, Lexington
Zcenicx.CH_23b -.AFS Shran -_Tolar&T'Pell, Shenar, Tachyons, Survivors, GanyaIvanov, HonourGuest
Zcenicx.CH_23c -.Valhalla -_Awaken, Lexington KIA'd, MinbariSurvivors, Recovery, Sheridan
Zcenicx.CH_23d -.ISIS -_Valhalla, Wheelchair, HospitalComplex, Sheridan&West, Sirius, Human, Stuck
Zcenicx.CH_24a -.Beta9 -_Duval, EA&Minbari, Sheila&Hancock, Rescue, EA Slaughtered
Zcenicx.CH_24b -.ISIS -_Sheridan, Rest&Recovery, ST Starships, Athena, Anti-Matter
Zcenicx.CH_24c -.Sirius -_Elysium, Sheridan&West, Caitian, Jahari&Iona, Choices
Zcenicx.CH_24d -.Aquilae -_Sheridan, Shipyard, FedTech, T'Pell, HoloDeck, NotUREarth
Zcenicx.CH_25a -.Sirius -_Delphi, Draconians, Sheridan&Sophia, AI Avatars, UFPHIS, Ships
Zcenicx.CH_25b -.VulcanYd -_Odin, Buildup, JahariTeam, West&George, Halsey, Minbari, Iona
Zcenicx.CH_26a -.Elysium -_Sheridan&Sophia, AM, PowerSource&Reactors, Quantum&Deuterium
Zcenicx.CH_26b -.Sirius -_Academy, Sophia, TheBasics, Beacons, Luna&Nebula
Zcenicx.CH_26c -.Orion -_Victory; Kira, Minbari, Velon, Exposed, Battle, BUGOUT!
Zcenicx.CH_27a -.Elysium -_Exiles, Halsey&Jahari, West&Grayson, Sheridan&Valeris
Zcenicx.CH_27b -.Sirius -_Jahari&Sheridan, Minbari, OGA, Keyes, Marines, West
Zcenicx.CH_27c -.Orion IV -_Night, Kira&Car, Phekk!, Phasers&Rifles, RiverBank
Zcenicx.CH_27d -.River -_Kira, MinbariSP, Richards, EAfolks; Odin; Mist&Halsey
Zcenicx.CH_27e -.Odin -_Furies, Battle, Minbari, Akiras, Char, Velon&Kira
Zcenicx.CH_28a -.Orion IV -_Harrin&Sharpe, Marines, Mist, Kira&Velon, Delvin
Zcenicx.CH_28b -.AlphaPt -_Sharpe&Dunham, FireFight, Odin, Tinashi, Halsey, Mist
Zcenicx.CH_28c -.FoxtrotPt -_FireBalls, Heralds, Firfight, Rout, MinbariRetreating
Zcenicx.CH_28d -.AlphaPt -_Sharpe, Aurora, Dunham, FIRE!, RulesOfEngagement
Zcenicx.CH_28e -.Blockade -_Avenger, Grayson, Helen, Scanning, MinbariShuttle
Zcenicx.CH_29a -.Orion -_Odin; Halsey&West, OneEscapee, Keyes, Conference, Mist
Zcenicx.CH_29b -.Valen'tha -_Lenonn, Setai, OrionSys, Delenn, Sineval, Intel
Zcenicx.CH_29c -.Aquilae -_Sirius; Jameson&Kirk, Icarus, Jonah, Eclipse
Zcenicx.CH_29d -.FED DN -_Odin; Halsey&Sheridan, MinbariSurvivors, AlphaCentauri
Zcenicx.CH_30a -.Elysium -_West, PrimeDirective, NewGuys, Korash, Draconis&Sirius
Zcenicx.CH_30b -.Valen'tha -_Delenn, GreyCouncil, Hedronn, NewFaction, Rangers
Zcenicx.CH_30c -.Sirius -_Duval&Samuel, FindValen'tha, SectionSix, Proxima, MinbariScout
Zcenicx.CH_31a -.Sirius -_Surprise; Kira&Aubrey, Maturin, Darwin, Minbari POW
Zcenicx.CH_31b -.Sirius -_MinbariPilot, Iona, Q&As, Ghelan, Anla’shok’Na, West
Zcenicx.CH_31c -.Risa -_Minbari, Duval&Hancock, Crystals, Sheila, Lenonn
Zcenicx.CH_32a -.Sirius -_ISIS; Jaden& EAFolks, Ivanov, Bayard, Choices, Vim, Atlantis
Zcenicx.CH_32b -.Surprise -_West, Deschamps, Duval, Akiras, Meetings, Sleep
Zcenicx.CH_32c -.BetaRigel -_Independence; Anla'shok, FirstOnes, GreyCouncil, Duval&Lenonn
Zcenicx.CH_32d -.AlphaCentauri -_Sheridan, Jorani&Char, Vee'zak, Suvok, Meeting
Zcenicx.CH_32e -.BetaRigel -_Surprise; TimeTravel, Lenonn&Kira, Halsey
Zcenicx.CH_33a -.BetaRigel -_Moon, West&Kira, Marines, Minbari, Lenonn, Duval
Zcenicx.CH_33b -.BetaRigel -_West&Duval, Lenonn&Xal, Delenn, Politics, GrayCouncil, Choices
Zcenicx.CH_33c -.Odin -_HoldingPos; Valeris&T'Pell, Jurgen, Halsey, BattlePlans
Zcenicx.CH_33d -.RigelX -_West&Marcus, GrayCouncil, Delenn, Lenonn, Xal
Zcenicx.CH_34a -.Proxima -_Albion; Sheridan, Starfleet, Victoria, TheLine, Minbari
Zcenicx.CH_34b -.Valen'tha -_Delenn, Shakiri, Peace?, Morann, Madness
Zcenicx.CH_34c -.Albion -_Sheridan, ShakiriAdvances, Halsey, Michael, Lefcourt
Zcenicx.CH_34d -.Venture -_Cleves, Sharlins, FIRE!, ReturnFire, Gallant, DanceOfWar
Zcenicx.CH_34e -.Avenger -_Helen&Nemesis, Grayson, Akira, Davis&Sanders, Sakai, Sinclair, BOOM!
Zcenicx.CH_35a -.Achilles -_Lefcourt, BattleRoyale, LaSalle, Cook, Halsey&Marcel, Losses
Zcenicx.CH_35b -.Valen'tha -_Minbari, Delenn, Shakiri, Vote, Halsey, Renown, Aceh, BOOM!
Zcenicx.CH_35c -.Valen'tha -_Delenn&Zakat, Hedronn, Shakiri, Coplann&Morann, Yield
Zcenicx.CH_35d -.Medusa -_Alexei&Lefcourt, EF&SF, Odin, Halsey, Mist, Minbari,
Zcenicx.CH_36a -.Proxima -_Albion; Halsey; Odin; Victoria, Lefcourt&Garibaldi
Zcenicx.CH_37a -.Proxima -_Surprise; West&Sheila, Helen, ButchersBill, Grayson&Keyes, Cadets
Zcenicx.CH_37b -.Proxima -_Elisha&West, Personnel, Bannerman, Halsey&Duval, Grayson, DesperateChoices
Zcenicx.CH_37c -.Geneva -_EarthEA, West&Fontaine, Willard&Levy, Sheridan, DefGrid, EASurvivors, Choices
Zcenicx.CH_38a -.SolSys -_West, Delegation, Geneva, Mistakes, EarthAlliance Reaction
Zcenicx.CH_38b -.SolSys -_Surprise, Sheridan&West, Mars&Earth, Terraforming, Fontaine, Problems
Zcenicx.CH_38c -.SolSys -_T'Pell, Sheridan, Shenar&West, Akira, Twins4Tolar, SheridanPromoted, Aubrey
Zcenicx.CH_38d -.Albion -_Cleves&Malloy, Victoria, Phobos, Shipyards, Duval
Zcenicx.CH_38e -.Surprise -_West, Aubrey, Minbari, Kira, Vorlons, Delenn, Cleaved, Kosh
Zcenicx.CH_39a -.SolSys -_Surprise; Conference, West&Delenn, Kosh&Hedronn, Survivors, Duval, Sheridan
Zcenicx.CH_39b -.Geneva -_Fontaine&Clark, Votes, MarsSecedes, Tessa, Kira, West, EAFOverMars
Zcenicx.CH_40a -.PolarOrbit -_Mars; Duval, Samuel, EF&SF, West, Hancock, Sheila, Tyrell
Zcenicx.CH_40b -.Valen'tha -_Delenn&Warrior, EF, Morann, MarsIncident, West&Kira, Delenn, Behind&Front
Zcenicx.CH_40c -.EarthOrbit -_Meeting, EF, SF, Minbar, David, Sheridan, Santiago, West&Delenn, Hedronn
Zcenicx.CH_41a -.Valen'tha -_West&Delenn, Bramner, Jameson&Iona, Debts, Promises
Zcenicx.CH_41b -.Mars -_MarsDome1, Tessa&Amanda, Federation, Sheila, Lefcourt, Fontaine&West
Zcenicx.CH_42a -.SolSys -_Kira&Halsey, Aubrey, Transporters, Delenn, Sirius, Holodeck, AntiMatterEngines
Zcenicx.CH_42b -.Sirius -_West, Hedronn&Bramner, WarpCore; Mars; Iona, PSI, FedMarines, Xal, Avalon
Zcenicx.CH_43a -.SolSys -_Satais&West, Halsey&Sophia, Hedronn, Peoni, Minerals&Chemicals, Kira
Zcenicx.CH_43b -.Mars -_DavidSheridan, Edgars, Credits, Levy, Deschamps, Asteroids, Odin&Thor
Zcenicx.CH_43c -.Surprise -_Odin, Delenn, Darwin, Asteroids, Impacts, IronRich
Zcenicx.CH_43d -.SolSys -_Sheridan, Londo, Minbari&Centauri, Deschamps, Deimos, Ceres Moved
Zcenicx.CH_44a -.Albion -_Victoria&halsey, Marines, LONAN, Londo, MarsAtmosphere, G'Kar, Terraforming
Zcenicx.CH_44b -.Atlantis -_Isis, West, Mars, Carter, EF Refugees, HospitalComplexes, Holloran
Zcenicx.CH_45a -.Elysium -_Sirius, West, Cadets, Elisha, Jahari, Valentine, Slips, Mars&EF Recuits
Zcenicx.CH_45b -.Mars -_Tharsis; Tessa, Vim, NewCityBlocks, Peregrines&Lancets, Ceres, Amanda, Clarke
Zcenicx.CH_46a -.Harlequin -_Akira; Sheridan&Belle, Clarke&Pirates, Sol, T'Pell, PSICs, Refugees
Zcenicx.CH_46b -.Elysium -_Sirius; Meridan&Zephyr, Immigrants, UtopiaPlanitia, Sophia&West, AIBodies
Zcenicx.CH_47a -.Mars -_UPYards, Jonah&Keyes, Shakiri&Skardili, Threats&Bluffs, PlanetaryBatteries
Zcenicx.CH_47b -.Zephyr -_SyriaPlanum, DefWing91, Ganya, PhaserPulseFire, PointDefense, MinbariVsFeds
Zcenicx.CH_47c -.Skriia -_Skardili&Shakiri, SurrenderTerms, OutCast, Halsey, Valentine, Vim&Tessa, Time
Zcenicx.CH_48a -.NYEarth -_Erica, Fired, Headaches, Marsies, Burglar'd, Megan, Decisions, JFK Spaceport
Zcenicx.CH_48b -.JFKSP -_Erica&Megan, Dirtbag, Choices, RunDownDump, Iona?, Sharp Blue Light
Zcenicx.CH_48c -.USS Eclipse -_Erica&Megan, Iona, NewDigs, BlueMarbleMars, StarBase Phobos, Vol, CityZephyr
Zcenicx.CH_49a -.SB PortRoyal -_Valeris&Keyes, Gray&Sheridan, Copernicus, Warp9TooSlow, Hyperdrive
Zcenicx.CH_49b -.EpsilonEridani -_Valeris&Sheridan, EA B4, Krantz, YellowAlert, Intruders&Chronitons, Halsey&Hiu
Zcenicx.CH_50a -.SB Babylon -_USS Surprise, Kira, Docking, West&Halsey, EF, BlueSection, Alex, Engineering
Zcenicx.CH_50b -.Mars -_EAEmbassy; Tessa&Lien, ClarkeRising, JeffSinclair, David&JohnSheridan, Sabine&Diana
Zcenicx.CH_51a -.SB Babylon1 -_Sinclair&MacDougan, Vesta, BigMother!, HUGE Doors, Starfury, Tractors, Kira&Lauren
Zcenicx.CH_51b -.SB Babylon2 -_Takashima&Jeff, SectionColors, Ambassadors, Nira, SF Security, PSICorps
Zcenicx.CH_51c -.SB Babylon3 -_Sinclair, Arnassians, Garibaldi&Lyta, Delvin, Smuggler, Peeps, Lauren, G'Kar, Kira
Zcenicx.CH_51d -.SB Babylon4 -_BioDome; Sinclair, Delenn, Triluminary, Lauren, Kosh, Nebuchadnezzar, G'Kar,
Zcenicx.CH_52a -.EpsilonEridani -_Takashima, EA Warlock, Duval, Hidoshi, SusanIvanova, TaliaWinters, Greetings
Zcenicx.CH_52b -.StarBase Babylon -_Garibaldi&Ivanova, Devlin, Kanar, Mollari, Duval, Delenn, Chat
Zcenicx.CH_52c -.BlueLvl1 -_Darren, Raiders, Sinclair, Muar, Crane, EAPolitics, Susan, USS Electra
Zcenicx.CH_52d -.GreenLvl1 -_Vir&Mollari, Video, G'Kar, Fight, Devlin, Precog, Carn, Fate
Zcenicx.CH_52e -.CentaurEmbassy -_Kosh&Duval, EmergencySession, SessionInOrder, G'Kar&Carn, Vote, POW'dNarn
Zcenicx.CH_53a -.SB_Babylon -_Takashima, Minbari, Kira&Duval, Delenn, SoulHunters, Sinclair, Quiries
Zcenicx.CH_53b -.Promenade -_Duval&Londo, G'Kar, Ko D'Ath, Trakis, Dance
Zcenicx.CH_53c -.DockingRing -_Franklin&Ivanova, Takashima, Vance, Archeology, Ikarra, OrganicVase
Zcenicx.CH_53d -.Med-Lab1 -_Stephen&Vance, Cain, OrganicTech, Nelson, AlienArtifacts, Droids, Nebuchadnezzar, Iona
Zcenicx.CH_54a -.SB Babylon -_Garibaldi&Devlin, Delenn&Lennier, Sinclair&Catherine, Bajor Eatery, OldTimes
Zcenicx.CH_54b -.Customs -_Devlin, Bester&Kira, Kelsey, JasonIronheart, Boxila, Iona&Talia, PSI Control
Zcenicx.CH_54c -.Customs -_Bester&Devlin, Boxila, Iona, Cain, Delenn&Mayan, Roberts, HomeGuard,
Zcenicx.CH_54d -.SB Babylon -_Kira&Devlin, Nebuchadnezzar, Garibaldi, Biggs, Sinclair, Abbai
Zcenicx.CH_55a -.Sirius -_West&Nira, Iona&Talia, Pro-EartherBigots, Nelson, SF FleetStrengths
Zcenicx.CH_55b -.Isis -_Iona&Talia, Dr. Cain, Telepathic, PSICorps, Psilosynine, Trust
Zcenicx.CH_55c -.SB Babylon -_Devlin&Garibaldi, Deathwalker&Na'toth, Cain&Jha'Dur, Lennier, Anti-Agapic
Zcenicx.CH_55d -.CouncilChm -_Duval&Mollari, Awal'Mirza, CoinFlip, Sinclair&G'Kar, ResearchWiped
Zcenicx.CH_56a -.SB Babylon1 -_Devlin&Garibaldi, Mollari&Reno, Ladira, Prophecy&Visions, TheEye
Zcenicx.CH_56b -.SB Babylon2 -_G'Kar&Morden, Delenn, Shadows, Duval, Mollari, Pestering
Zcenicx.CH_56c -.SB Babylon3 -_Takashima&Devlin, Anderson, Intruder, USS Galent, Londo&Morden
Zcenicx.CH_57a -.SB Babylon1 -_West&Halsey, Duval, TheEye, Sivas, Shadows, Valeris, Inquiries
Zcenicx.CH_57b -.SB Babylon2 -_Security; Devlin&Sinclair, Ganya&Susan, HoloSims, Starfury&Lancet
Zcenicx.CH_57c -.SB Babylon3 -_Security; Devlin&Susan, Ganya, Sinclair, Sims, Nebuchadnezzar
Zcenicx.CH_58a -.SB Babylon1 -_West&Duval, BramnerRIP, Morden, WhatDoYouWant, FreedomOfChoice
Zcenicx.CH_58b -.SB Babylon2 -_Takashima, SeismicDisturbances, Surface, Adelphi, SurfaceBeacon, Laurel
Zcenicx.CH_58c -.SB Babylon3 -_Duval&Mollari, Delenn, Trade, PrimeDirective, Dickering, Draal
Zcenicx.CH_58d -.SB Babylon4 -_Kira&Isagi, Fissure, Nebuchadnezzar, Devlin&Sakai, Praetorian, Marines
Zcenicx.CH_58e -.SB Babylon5 -_Draal&Delenn, MinbariPath, SeaOfStars, TheFederation, Valen, Londo
Zcenicx.CH_59a -.Epsilon III -_Devlin&Takashima, Complex, Praetorians, Sakai, Medic, Toran, EF, Ellis
Zcenicx.CH_59b -.SB Babylon1 -_Devlin&Takashima, Londo, Cain, Patient, Duval&Kira, CriticalMass, Messy
Zcenicx.CH_59c -.SB Babylon1 -_Medical; Delenn&Draal, Cain&Duval, Takashima, Pierce; Takarn, StandOff, Varn
Zcenicx.CH_59d -.SB Babylon2 -_Duval&Delenn, Draal, Kira, Self-Sacrifice, MedicalBay, Varn&Cain, Decisions
Zcenicx.CH_59e -.SB Babylon3 -_Kira&Duval, Takashima, Praetorian, Pierce, Draal, Takashima, Apologies
Zcenicx.CH_60a -.USS Agamemnon -_Sheridan, Kira, Sector14, Chronitons, Babylon4, Bayard, Survivors
Zcenicx.CH_60b -.SB Babylon1 -_Mollari&G'Kar, Duval&Delenn, Santiago, SolSystem, Samuel, Ragesh III
Zcenicx.CH_60c -.SB Babylon2 -_Vir&Mollari, NibbledByCats, Morden, Quadrant 37, New Message, FedToQ37
Zcenicx.CH_60d -.UtopiaPlanitia -_ Spacedock, Halsey&Lianna, EarthForceOne, CEC, Valentine
Zcenicx.CH_61a -.Quadrant37 -_ Grayson, USS Loki, AI Avatar, Ash, Ragesh, Bellatrix, Intruders
Zcenicx.CH_61b -.EpsilonEridani -_ Devlin, Security, Garibaldi, CieronKIA'd, Cain, VicarKIA'd, Lockdown
Zcenicx.CH_61c -.MarsSpace -_ Nathal&Hague, OrganicAlienBomb, Halsey, EarthForceOne, Babylon5, Shadows
Zcenicx.CH_61d -.MarsOrbit -_ Halsey&Mist, Claudier&T'Pan, Lt.Black, Harlequin, Hague&Santiago, Anderson
Zcenicx.CH_62a -.Quadrant37 -_ Loki, Grayson&Ash, Narns, Shadows, Illustrious, Payback, BattleRoyale
Zcenicx.CH_62b -.SolSys -_ Mars, Raiders, Sovereigns, Halsey&Mist, StarFleet, Tricobalt
Zcenicx.CH_62c -.Quadrant37 -_ Ash&Grayson, Transphasic&TriCobalts, Losses, Shockwaves
Zcenicx.CH_62d -.SolSys -_ Odin, Sensors, Halsey, Explosions, Enemy Withdraws, Damages
Zcenicx.CH_62e -.SolSys -_ Odin, Mist&Halsey, West, Babylon5, Talia, ClarkeCoup, Santiago
Zcenicx.CH_63 -.Mars -_ Santiago&Lianna, V'Tal&Montoya, EA VidFeed, Halsey, ClarkeCoup, Tessa, Fontaine
Zcenicx.CH_63a -.Mars -_ Santiago&Fontaine, Tharsis, ISN, Carter, Clark's Coup, MegaCorps, Sorila, Halsey
Zcenicx.CH_63b -.USS Agamemon -_ Sheridan&Sabine, Rescue&Recovery, EF, Santiago, Hague, EarthCivilWar
Zcenicx.CH_64a -.Minbar -_ Ambassador Pavel, Minbari Culture, Kelshon, Thoughts, Firefight, VAdm West
Zcenicx.CH_64b -.Sirius -_ West, Emperor Turhan's Death, Keyes, Abbai&Centauri, Carthagia, Elisha, Narns
Zcenicx.CH_64c -.EpsilonEridani -_ Delenn, WarriorCaste, Marcus, MinbariUnrest, Anla'shok, Embassies
Zcenicx.CH_65a -.OrionSys -_ SophiaClark, ISN, ClarkLoyalists, Nava, Andromeda, Rest
Zcenicx.CH_65b -.EpsilonEridani -_ Sheila&Delenn, Minbari, Thestreib, Duval, Shadows
Zcenicx.CH_65c -.Quadrant37 -_ USS Thor; Cordey, Narns, Aurora, Spectators, G'Sten, Centauri
Zcenicx.CH_66a -.BassenRift -_ USS Retribution, Craig, Volunteers, Curie, Walker, Simon
Zcenicx.CH_66b -.Elysium -_ Sirius; West, Narns, Clarkists, AI Nelson, WeaponsLoads, Corday
Zcenicx.CH_66c -.Admiral -_ West&Kara, Aylam, Sophia, Janine, Grades
Zcenicx.CH_66d -.Space -_ USS Retribution; Craig; Proxima; Walker, Pierce
Zcenicx.CH_66e -.Proxima -_ USS Balder; Subspace Anomaly, Aylarn, Kara, TaskForce59
Zcenicx.CH_67a -.Leonis Sys -_ TF59, Samantha, Alyam, Sensors, Craig, Dal, Of The Starfleet
Zcenicx.CH_67b -.Antigone -_ Meeting, Craig&Caeron, Sam&West, BassenRift, Mizan, Keyes, SSOI AI
Zcenicx.CH_67c -.Antigone -_ West&Antigone; Sheila, Halsey, EA Earth, Craig, RomulanCivilWar, Rift
Zcenicx.CH_68a -.SiriusSys -_ Antigone; NewFederation; SiriusMarsDraconis; Walker&Sammie, West&Craig
Zcenicx.CH_68b -.SiriusSys -_ Elysium; West, Androids, NewGalaxySitRep, Clarkists, AI Holograms
Zcenicx.CH_68c -.SiriusSys -_ Valkyria; Craig&Yzak, Aerie, StrategicClearance, Walker, Tam, Mist&Halsey
Zcenicx.CH_69a -.EpsilonEridani -_ SB Babylon; Sinclair&Susan, Sinclair EA Ambassador, Delenn&Neroon
Zcenicx.CH_69b -.MinbarSpace -_ Agamemnon; Adm.Halsey's Speech, Sheridan, Marcus, EA Shadow Starships
Zcenicx.CH_69c -.Minbar Sys -_ USS Odin; Mist&Halsey, Streib&Minbar, Sarhat, BattleRoyale, West
Zcenicx.CH_69d -.Minbar Sys -_ Sharlins&Tinashis, AM Torpedoes, Mist&Halsey, Craig&West, FTRs, Engage
Zcenicx.CH_70a -.Minbar Sys1 -_ Agamemnon; Nebula&Steamrunners, Sharlin&Tinashi, Sheridan, Broadsides
Zcenicx.CH_70b -.Minbar Sys2 -_ Halsey, Minbari Sentinels, Mist, Odin, Streibs, Akiras
Zcenicx.CH_70c -.Minbar Sys3 -_ Agamemnon; Sheridan, Lancets, DarkStars, Va'Denn, Mist&Halsey, Maneuvers
Zcenicx.CH_70d -.Minbar Sys4 -_ Terra Cimmeria; Dragoons, PodBoarders Away!; Col.Perez, Marines, Jenkins&Sharp





*Updates will be rendered whenever Zcenicx Posts them ... please forward any questions on any errors to links to kclcmdr for corrections....thank you
**...This post will/can either be deleted or modified If/When so ordered by Zcenicx
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NEW TOC Link 273

[Aspriles]

Freakin awesome! Welcome back dude.

Welcome back.

[Hypochondriac]

Yess Wahooo, The story is still alive

Welcome Back

Now hurry up post the other chapters you finished rewriting. Don't leave us hanging

[Kosst Amojan]

I really liked this story, glad it's back.

[Ruirk]

Awesome! Nice to see you writing again.

[Aaron Fox]

ITS ALIVE!

Good story in versions 1 and two but now it has to live up to the predesesors. Keep up the good work! I salute you!

[Zcenicx]

"If I didn't see it, I wouldn't believe it. They're absolutely huge! You could fit the Albion and the Discovery inside one of them end to end and still have room to spare, and I've done battle in less space than even that!"


Chapter 2


USS DARWIN, COMMAND BRIDGE
CLOSE TO ALPHA CENTAURI
JULY 16TH, 2243

He was a scientist, at least he kept telling himself that he was, and not a soldier or an explorer. He wasn't interested in blowing other ships up nor dashing aimlessly through unknown space, and that was the main reason he was in command of a Nova-class research vessel and not a Steamrunner or Intrepid. He'd been nervous enough when he'd been assigned to do a long-range reconnaissance run of the Neutral Zone. Now, flying through potentially hostile space in a completely unknown universe, he had an almost constant nervous look as he walked among the crew and this of course was not exactly the best thing imaginable for the general crew morale. Still, as the scientists they were, both he and his crew kept busy trying to get a clearer view of their surroundings.

They'd been trapped here in this alternate universe for eleven days now and it was slowly beginning to sink into their minds that this was real, that they weren't on a long term mission but rather completely and quite possibly permanently cut off from home. They were Starfleet officers and tried to act accordingly, but he had seen several crewmen start to break down as the realization of their situation dawned. Husbands, wives, parents, children, family and friends. They were all gone, and possibly gone forever.

"Captain, we're approaching the Alpha Centauri system. Sensors are ready to commence a full-spectrum scan." The helm officer was a young man, not much more than a boy in captain Deschamps eyes. Still, he seemed young enough to still see their new circumstances as an adventure rather than a tragedy like most others did.
Tell the Valiant to cloak and cover us."

He made a mental note to bring that to Starfleet’s attention when, or rather if, they ever got back. The Nova-class ships, just like the other frigates, hadn't even been considered when they refitted the ships of the line with cloaks. Mostly because they lacked the power generation and computational power, but the Defiant class at least got to keep their copied Romulan cloaking devices.

"Roger, captain T'Pell acknowledges as well."

"Rig for silent running just in case someone out there has their eyes or ears peered, and switch to reserve power. Disengage the warp drive as soon as we exit warp. Let our inertia carry us in only parrying with the thrusters."
"Aye, sir, taking position just outside the outer Oort Cloud on thrusters only. All stations report silent running aye."
"Very well, let's begin by making a passive scan of the system. Let's see what we can find."

They'd been sent on the more important, in his mind at least, of the two surveys namely to examine the systems leading up to and including the Sol system. They'd already passed through three of the systems located between Vulcan and Earth, and these were Andoria, Sirius and Babel. In their reality, each was heavily populated by several different sentient species but in this darker version they looked much like Vulcan. While still Mishara-class planets, except for Andor which was its usual ice-covered class P, they were all completely void of intelligent life or any traces thereof. If anything could make Deschamps wonder about fate or destiny, this would be it.

In his reality Earth had developed faster-than-light travel and officially taken to the stars in 2063, with first contact between Vulcan and Earth coming only days later. Vulcan had been the first planet they'd visited, and by association they'd learned about many other races among them the Andorians. Sirius had been a very early Earth colony and so had Babel due to their relatively close distance from Earth. How different could the Humans of this universe be, if they hadn't even reached these nearby and clearly still inhabitable systems yet?

Or were they going to find the same thing on Earth as they had on Vulcan and Andoria, as in a green and lush planet but with no trace of even the most ancient Human civilization? He hoped not. While the Vulcans had taken the shock of not existing as a species surprisingly well, and the Andorians at least had been warned of what to expect - as one of the Andorian crewmen had said;
"If the Vulcans were gone and Andoria remained, we'd have most likely arrived in orbit of an Andorian colony, not an unsettled world."
- he had still seen the pain in the same crewman's face as they came upon his cold but now barren and completely lifeless home world. Not even the snow drakes or ice worms seemed to ever have existed.

If the same was true for Earth… he dared not think the thought to its end. There was a lot of different races in the fleet, Vulcans, Andorians, Bolians, Tellarites, Klingons, Bajorans, Trill and Betazoid only to name a few, but at least three quarters and likely even more were Human. What kept them going right now was the so typical Human hope, faith and sheer stubbornness, which was also and surprisingly something many of the other races seemed to take a great deal of comfort in.

A few minutes passed in the relative silence of the bridge. "Anything, ensign?"
“I'm reading something, but I'm not sure what. Passive scans can't give me a high enough resolution at this range. I'm detecting low levels of tachyon radiation, but no subspace activity and no warp signatures."
"Tachyons?" Deschamps wondered. "What's your opinion, T'Var?"
"Well, captain, I lack sufficient data to make even a preliminary conclusion. I would recommend we do an active scan to gather more data, as there seems to be no evidence of subspace technology in the system, but there is of course a risk of detection I cannot discount simply because I can't see what's out there."
"Great, either we see and risk being seen, or we don't see at all...” He silently weighed his options. “Make it so."
"Engaging auxiliary power, active sensors are coming back online. Stand by." There was a slight increase in the ambient noise as the soft humming of the ship's secondary fusion reactors came back online. "Initializing an active high-resolution scan of the system now, sir."

It felt like every single person on the ship was holding their breath in expectation. So far this universe had proven to be a mirror image of their own, even if it was a lifeless and empty one thus far. If the human race did exist in this universe, and they had indeed developed faster-than-light travel like they should have, there should be some evidence of that here. Alpha Centauri was by far the closest star system from Earth, it was practically in Earth's own back yard, and the consequences of it being equally lifeless to the other colony and home worlds they'd passed on the way would be staggering to Deschamps. He could almost feel the rest of the crew going through the very same thoughts and emotions.

He took a long, good look at the system as it was ever so slowly re-rendered from the active scan data on the main viewscreen. The Alpha Centauri system was and had always been a required field of study at the Starfleet Academy of Science and he'd been fascinated by it even in the early years of his life.

The ternary star system was just as beautiful in this universe as at home. He could clearly see the central stars of Rigil Kent and Toliman, the main yellow star and the secondary orange, as always locked in their dancing orbit around each other. In the distance above them he thought he could see the slightly distant red dwarf star called Proxima, also locked in the gravity well of the binary system and considered part of the same system even though it was a full fifth of a light year away. All three stars had natural satellites, and he remembered five of these could natively support life, and another three of them had early been terraformed to M-class though this was done long before his lifetime.

"Captain..." The wild face of the ensign at sensors got the attention of both T'Var and Deschamps. "You are so not going to believe this."


USS VALIANT, COMMAND BRIDGE
PROXIMA III POLAR ORBIT
1 HOUR LATER


Deschamps and T'Var had now been beamed over to the Valiant and now stood on either side of the blue-skinned appearance of captain T'Pell, the fleet's only Andorian captain, and all three were standing there in relative silence looking at the visage before them while they awaited confirmation.

"Captains, we've finished the preliminary analysis.." T'Var looked as calm as ever. "I can confirm that the ships are indeed of human origin. There are more than two hundred life signs on board each of the ships in this sector of the system, and all of them register as genetically pure humans to the sensors. The colony consists of a series of domed complexes and seems to be well enough established as I'm reading well over a million inhabitants and a significant planet-based industrial base. Again, all of them register as human. The only exception is a single life form on one of the orbital stations whose life signs the computer is unable to identify."
"If I didn't see it, I wouldn't believe it. They're absolutely huge! You could fit the Albion and the Discovery inside one of them end to end and still have room to spare, and I've done battle in less space than even that!" T’Pell still looked shocked. "I'm quite impressed with your race's capability, pink-skin."
"I know, I know." Deschamps sneered. "Calm down captain, we do have work to do."
"Aye." He nodded. "Make a full-spectrum scan, and relay all our data to the Darwin as we get it!"

In truth, Deschamps wasn't all that calm either, but he definitely hid it better than his Andorian colleague did. As he had heard the first preliminary sensor report he'd felt like a huge weight was immediately lifted from his shoulders... but in all truth whatever he'd expected, he hadn't expected this. The ships, they had engines so they had to be ships, were simply huge. Stem to stern the scanners gave him a length dimension of just over fifteen hundred meters, and an estimated displacement of a massive 32 million metric tons! This behemoth dwarfed even the almost seven hundred meter length of a Sovereign-class battlecruiser, the arguably most advanced and powerful conventional warship of the entire Federation Starfleet, and weighed in at more than ten times their mass.

Ever since he had first laid eyes on it he hadn't doubted for a second the ship was human in origin. The ten meter high Latin letters spelling out 'Lancelot' on the side was a good pointer. He could accept a whole lot, especially under the current circumstances, but that another, any other, race would both spell in human lettering and know the legend of Camelot was just a completely ridiculous proposition. What did worry him however, more than anything else, was the excessive amount of weapons systems these ships carried.

They had counted two dozen twin-muzzle plasma cannons and another six large-bore beam weapon mounts on each of the larger vessels, plus a number of smaller energy weapons that seemed designed for point defense or short-ranged precision fire. Even though the weapons were plasma and laser based, with a calculated medium to low yield by Federation standards, it was quite obviously a warship and more than likely capable of causing trouble even for a Starfleet vessel in large enough numbers.

T’Pell had already told them that one of these would be easy prey for even the relatively small Valiant, but had also with some respect stated that several of these working together could become a serious problem. One by one the cannons were probably not capable doing more than denting the shields, much less so damage the armor, of a Federation warship... but dozens? or hundreds? Neither captain had any illusions that whatever ship they piloted into combat against these ships would eventually succumb under the massive amount of brute force they could put out, but they also knew their own perhaps less powerful in raw energy output but in turn far more advanced weaponry would take a staggering number of them out in return.

There were two dozen of these behemoths in orbit around the planet and about twice that number of smaller vessels, measuring in at 'only' just over a kilometer. The smallest ships he could see, barring shuttles or single-pilot fighters, were around four hundred and fifty meters long, or in other words just slightly shorter than an Akira-class heavy cruiser. To make matters worse on the Starfleet captains, the hulls on most of these vessels were also patched in various places, in a pattern that could only be due to sustaining what in some cases must have been heavy battle damage, and most likely from equivalent forms of weaponry as the ones these ships were carrying.

Deschamps had been proven correct, Proxima III was indeed an established human colony even in this mirror universe. But something that surprised him was that there was still no evidence to be found that these ships were actually independently capable of faster-than-light travel. Not that it was that unusual for Federation planets to build impulse ships for intra-system patrols or transports, but those ships wouldn't be literally armed to the teeth or quite this massive.

This was actually improbable in this case as well, as the ships could never have been constructed planet-side and then launched into space. Ships of this size and even more importantly shape always required an orbital shipyard, and while there were ample amounts of artificial satellites, most armed and considerably larger than most dedicated communications satellites, there was no such shipyard facilities to be seen anywhere in the system nor any evidence such had ever existed here either. In fact the only evidence in orbit of any kind of starship support facilities was what they assumed to be a mothball yard and a larger orbital control and defense station.

It would seem that this universe's humans had developed quite differently than the ones from his universe, even discounting the time difference. At this time, relatively speaking of course, the Federation had just started to build the first batch of the Constitution-class ships. It would be another two years or so until the first ones left the shipyards at Utopia Planitia but even so these alternate universe human ships lacked many of the technologies the Federation had taken for granted long before even that.

The massive ship in front of him was about fifteen to twenty years old, judging by the information on the materials the sensors had been able to give, yet lacked such basic space-faring technology as artificial gravity, subspace communications arrays, hydrogen ram scoops or point-to-point matter transporters. Tactical sensors couldn’t give a definite answer, but they suspected the ships lacked defensive shielding as well instead relying on an energy dampening grid not entirely unlike the pre-Federation polarized hull plating his own people had come up with. In other words, they were lacking technology the Federation had developed or encountered more than a hundred years ago, again relatively speaking. The ships also appeared to be powered solely by four truly massive but again fairly primitive fusion reactors, with no trace of an antimatter reaction’s particle decay signature.

"We still aren't able to decipher their communications, sirs." The middle-aged officer that had spoken was unfamiliar to Deschamps, but was dressed in the color of an operations officer. "We've deduced that they do indeed use the tachyon beams we keep detecting as their basis for faster-than-light communications, at least the signal patterns conform to those you'd use in a communications band, but our receivers were never calibrated to handle tachyon-based signals and we lack a lot of the equipment necessary to make sense of particle-based information carriers. We're recording what we can and hopefully your scientists can sort it out later captain, but the Valiant won't be able to do more as she was never designed for analyzing this kind of raw data as anything but a source for target tracking."
"Very well, lieutenant." He turned back to the viewscreen. "So this is how humanity has evolved in this universe. Well, now that we've answered one question, how about we try answering some more?"
"Like what?" T’Pell asked.
"Like how did these ships, or for that sake the people on the planet, get here.” Deschamps frowned. “I haven't seen even the most minute trace of warp plasma here, much less any sign of a warp reactor. Why does a small colony like this have more defenses in peace time than our Earth does in wartime, and why does the warships lack both warp drives, any kind of identifiable nacelle assembly, deflectors or antimatter reactors. Should I go on?"
"Never mind then.” The Andorian sighed. “You pink-skin scientists and your questions. Helm, set a course back to the Darwin, but stay at half impulse until we completely clear the gravity well and then engage warp 3."
This, he hoped, would allow them to completely avoid any unwanted attention.

The short journey back out past the Oort cloud took only a few minutes, and soon T'Var and Deschamps were once again back on board their own ship. The science officer hurried off as soon as they were beamed back, no doubt to try and analyze this other human civilization's tachyon communications that the rest of the science ship's expert crew were already sifting through trying to understand the technology behind in order to decode.

Deschamps went to the bridge himself, bracing himself against the hail of questions he was quite sure he’d receive. Instead, as he entered the small bridge there was only silence, and only the helm officer said anything at all.
"Where to now, captain Deschamps?"
"Where else? Earth." Deschamps replied as he walked over to and sat down in his chair, his expert poker face revealing nothing at all to the obvious irritation of the bridge crew.
“Sir…if we may ask...” The young man asked after a few more seconds, almost looking uncomfortable in the protracted silence. “What did you find?”
“In truth, just more questions." He replied and then looked at the young officer with a faint smile. "But to answer your real question, yes, we did find humans.”

And with that single comment, the silence was broken.

[Zcenicx]

"Still, no matter how stoic you were used to the Vulcans being them not showing the slightest remorse about their race not even existing here was just plain creepy."


USS ICARUS, ASTROMETRICS LAB
EMPTY SPACE


The main reason why she had come over to the Icarus in the first place was because her own ship lacked the large and very specific display unit which was right in front of her. A full-size Starfleet Astrometrics display array is an impressive piece of technology, capable of mapping more than half the galaxy and analyze thousands of teraquads of data at the same time. Only a few ships were deemed worthy to receive this fairly new Borg-designed system, as it had been brought back from the Delta Quadrant by the Voyager only a few years ago and was still mostly regarded as experimental and unproven technology. She hadn't previously seen one in use though, even though this was mostly because she had never been very interested in navigation or stellar cartography but rather focused on other just as traditional but less peaceful parts of ship operations such as blowing other people's ships up. In that regard she was a perfect captain for a fast attack gunship like the Victory.

Right now, she was however in a state of mind she didn't quite like. Fear and irritation mixed in her face as she realized what commander Jameson, de facto captain of the Icarus, was trying to tell her.

"Well, where the hell are we then?" She asked.
"I don't understand this either, ma'am. Every other star, planet and piece of space debris has been in more or less the right place thus far, but there's just nothing here."
"You're really sure we're in the right place?"
"I'm sorry captain, but yes. Triangulating from the positions of the Cardassia and Regulon stars as well as the Badlands and the Amleth nebula, all points we've clearly identified as being right where they should, we're holding position right where the Bajoran star is supposed to be. And by all rights even if we were off by as much as a light year, which I seriously doubt with this piece of technology right here, we’d easily be able to see it from here with our own eyes, not to mention the astrometrics scanners."
"What about the Celestial Temple and the Prophets?"
"We passed right by where it is in our universe, captain. We were actually close enough to trigger it, had it been where it was supposed to be."

As the captain backed away from the large console, commander Jameson could understand her feelings. Not only had she been born on Bajor, she'd fought in the liberation war and then been stationed on Deep Space 9 for ten years of her career. She'd recently and by all means unfortunately for all involved been outmaneuvered in that position by another Bajoran officer, a despicable toad with admiral's insignia called Natal Garran who'd had zero command skill but golden connections in the Bajoran government.

The results from his political backstabbing would have most probably destroyed her career if not for her own friends within the Starfleet brass intervening. There'd been no way to get her back into command of Deep Space 9, but at least she'd been given command of a newly refit Defiant-class gunship by her friend and war comrade William Ross, and he along with chancellor Martok and ambassador Worf had even managed to put her on the fast track to promotion, seeing as how she'd be readily able to challenge Natal as an admiral herself.

Even discounting all that, she was also a deeply spiritual woman and everyone around her knew that. Jameson didn't know what had hit her worse, that Bajor as a whole didn't even exist in this reality, that the Prophets were nowhere to be found, or the fact that Cardassia did still exist while Bajor didn't.

Not that Cardassia even remotely looked like Cardassia in this reality. It was one of the few planets they had actually found intelligent life on, but it seemed nature had thought quite differently in this universe than it had in theirs. Instead of the reptilian-humanoid Cardassians, another race had evolved that called themselves the Yolu. It had taken some time to decrypt their communications and language, but once that was done they had managed to get some background information on not only the Yolu themselves but several other races and civilizations in the area of space they were surveying. They'd even learned of the existence of a Human civilization as well, news that had considerably helped the morale aboard both ships.

The area they had been exploring for the last two weeks had skimmed the border of what was called 'the League of Non-Aligned Worlds'. Apparently it was a loose economic and political alliance composed of some thirty member races, spread over a roughly triangular area of the galaxy with Beta Trianguli, Cardassia and Ferenginar lining up on the west border, the Typhon Expanse marking the northeast corner, and the east border glancing the Romulan Neutral Zone as it traversed back towards the southwest, just barely enveloping Mu Herculis and Denobula.

Denobula seemed to be this League’s closest system to Earth, though they called it Denizala, and was claimed by a race called the Vree. Judging by the differences in appearance of these Yolu compared to their own universe's Cardassians, he could only guess that these Vree would look nothing like the mostly human-like Denobulans either.

"Are you all right, captain?"
"I… All right?" She shook her head in disbelief. "No, I really don't think I am, commander."
"If you want, I'll arrange transport back to the Victory. Perhaps your ship's doctor has something to help you relax."
"Thank you commander but I assure you, I'll be fine."

She took a look at the holographic monitor again. She had seen this star chart before, but now the star names she was used to were toned a darker blue which usually denoted unexplored space, with only a few colored dots where the original star names had appendices with the ones that were used in this universe. As the initial shock started to subside she found that it was actually quite fascinating how alike these two universes were, but yet so very different. A star could be a light year out of position but otherwise exactly the same, another could be in exactly the right place otherwise be completely different. Some stars weren't even the right color or size. Still, they were all there or at least showed evidence that they had been at one point or another.

She noticed Bajor wasn't the only star that was marked in the dull dark red that indicated a missing star system. She tried to force a smile, pointed and asked the question as innocently as she could.
"Commander, is it just me, or is there another star missing?"
"What?" He looked up, apparently startled at the question.
"Right there, follow a line straight east from Syrma."
"Oh, I'm sorry, captain, I was thinking about something else." He replied. "Well, it's not missing per se, not like Bajor is, but it's not a star anymore either."
"What do you mean?"
"It was, but unlike that same star in our reality, there was no civilization living there that was advanced enough to stop its natural decay. A few hundred years ago, it collapsed, just like it would have in our reality."
"Collapsed? You mean...?"
"Yes. Ironic, isn't it. The home system of the race that learned to tame the power of black holes was turned into a black hole." He paused. "This universe probably developed much like our own, but just like actions have consequences, the lack of actions would naturally also have consequences. Most of the differences we see are most likely due to events that occurred differently here than in our own universe."
"Guess we can officially discount any chance of the Romulans being in this reality then."
"Already done, colonel, already done." He replied. "Actually not even by me either. As they were a sub-species of the Vulcans, the possibility of them being around was already zero and they were discounted as soon as we arrived in the Vulcan system."

Misery as always loves company, and suddenly she felt a whole lot better.


USS BELLEROPHON
VULCAN SYSTEM


The Bellerophon had been tasked with the rather arduous job of making a detailed survey of the inner Vulcan system, in other words using the Intrepid class' high-resolution scanners to make a full report on the resource levels of the planets and planetoids between the twin stars and Vulcan itself, while her sister ship Gallant made a very similar survey of the gas giants and moons located in the outer system. It had taken several days to complete their assignment but that was mostly because the goons that handled Fleet Command during the admiral's recuperation didn’t think they could trust the records they had on the system and wanted every detail re-examined.

Even so, captain Keyes didn't pay too much attention to her science officer as he actually reported their findings in exactly as much detail as the paper-pushers wanted, which was also so much more than she cared to even bother try listening to. The young man had only just been transferred to the Bellerophon before the ship at her request had been transferred from the Mars defense forces to Task Force 43. Even though the young Trill male looked good enough and had the grades to match, in her opinion at least he might very well be intelligent enough for the position but had a severe problem in that he thought much too high of himself plus the fact that he talked too much. Two traits one never liked in a man, much less an over-intelligent Trill who as she'd early learned had a severe ego complex.

He proclaimed himself one of those unfortunates who, despite not lacking in skill, never got selected to serve on a ship or station suitable to said skills. As if a Nova or a Peragus-class research station would be better than an Intrepid. One had to interrupt his usual complaining quickly, or he'd start to go on about how the Trill symbiosis committee had made a grave mistake in turning his applications down and it usually only went downhill from there. Even so, she didn't have much choice but to keep him around anymore, as while a transfer was hard to push through in wartime, it was even worse now.

Keyes was a good and long-time friend of both vice admirals West and Janeway, and they had been granted their first commands at roughly the same time, just like many others in the ongoing war as career advancing positions unfortunately opened up quickly and in quick succession. Janeway had been assigned the brand new Voyager, West took over the Galaxy after the death of her captain in the Dominion War and Keyes got the Helios, an aging but still proud Centaur class cruiser. When the Helios was decommissioned after the war and admiral Ross was promoted and reassigned to Starfleet Headquarters she had been transferred with most of her staff to take command of his old flagship, the Intrepid-class destroyer Bellerophon.

As the previous command ship of the Fifth Fleet, and personal flagship of a very high-profile admiral, she had been one of the first Intrepids to be fully 'Voyager-refitted' when her old friend had returned home to the Alpha Quadrant. She felt proud to serve on a ship of the same class as her dear friend's legendary ship, though she had initially felt somewhat envious that the Voyager itself had been handed over to Janeway's former first officer after a slight refit and extensive research had been performed on the returning vessels new systems.

Initially Janeway had only been selected for command of the new ship's shakedown cruise, the final choice still undecided between her and Keyes, but events beyond anyone's control had decided for them. Even knowing what had actually happened to the ship during that shakedown cruise didn't change her mind, and she honestly believed she'd be just as able to handle what Janeway went through as she'd been. Probably better, as Janeway had always focused more on science than engineering or tactics. Those were West's and her specialties.

The fact that Keyes was the only one in the original trio not yet promoted to the rank of admiral didn’t really bother her too much however as she was more than happy where she was and, unlike most of her crew, she rather liked this chance to re-explore their own back yard in an entirely new reality. She had lived on starships her whole life with few close friends, since the war she had no family left at home at all, and she didn’t really mind getting away from the fighting either. She’d seen more than her fair share of death already. They all had.

The report the science officer was just finishing had been fairly standard and could have been easily cut down to the phrase 'the records were mostly correct and we just wasted a lot of time on a fool's errand', and the fascination of scanning a completely unpopulated Vulcan system had been dampened by the fact that it was just that, unpopulated. Ironically enough, the Vulcans themselves seemed to enjoy (as much as a Vulcan can enjoy something) studying their home planet as it would have looked had they never evolved. It seemed to give them a perspective on things perhaps few others could appreciate. Still, no matter how stoic you were used to the Vulcans being them not showing the slightest remorse about their race not even existing here was just plain creepy.

"To conclude my report, ma'am, the system registers much like it would have in our own reality. The resources are much like the ones we have on record, but in higher amounts. This is, of course, mostly due to the fact that there’s been no one around that's been using them."
"Noted. Is there anything else?" She immediately kicked herself for using her standard phrase.
"Ma'am, if we do decide to follow the prime directive, some would say Vulcan would be as good a place as any to set down. Resource wise it's true, after all, as we all know a warp-capable civilization did in fact develop here and there are indeed ample amounts of most of the resources we'd need." He frowned. "Personally I'd advice against it and recommend we await the return of the Darwin with their scans of the Babel and Sirius systems, as well as the Icarus' scans of Alpha Centauri, first."
"Why?" She asked with renewed interest.

Darl made an uncomfortable grin and pointed out the window at the red globe that hung silently in space only a few light minutes away.

"Have you ever been to Vulcan, captain? As in outside the cities and temple complexes? The color isn’t just for show you know. It's mostly just dry savannah and hot arid deserts where the dust storms can and will rip the flesh from your bones in an instant." Darl glanced at the security officer at his station. "Our pointy-eared friends may very well enjoy the place, but it's really not all that hospitable to a Trill."
"Understood." Keyes nodded.
"Or a human. No offense, Davok." He added as in passing.
"None taken."
"I'll bring that up with admiral West tomorrow, lieutenant. Dismissed." She gestured for him to leave with her hand.

Elisha wasn't surprised with the conclusion. Darl may be a self-indulgent and overintelligent prick, but he was right, Vulcan was hardly considered to be the most hospitable planet in Federation space. Still, depending on what was out there they might not have much of a choice. She made sure she had the survey reports copied to her pad before leaving the bridge herself.

[Zcenicx]

"He was a little apprehensive at the fact that the entire fleet were essentially hiding out within what was effectively by most other races considered to be Earth-claimed space."


USS DARWIN, COMMAND BRIDGE
SOL, BEYOND PLUTO ORBIT
JULY 21ST, 2243


Even at maximum magnification the azure blue planet only took up less than a quarter of the viewscreen at this extreme range. To most of the crew this planet was considered home, but he also knew it wasn't really their home. However different the people on it may be though, it was still very much Earth. He could see the North and South American continents clearly, with the western tip of Africa hinting on the horizon. Looked like rain over the east coast and clear skies over California. He suddenly felt very, very homesick.

They stayed at extreme range, only barely close enough for the sensors to maintain an effective high-resolution scan. So far it was all good, but in the short time they'd been there they had already registered more than two thousand military vessels, some scattered around the system but most converged in the areas close to Earth, Mars and Jupiter, as well as a large amount of what looked like defense satellites, but as far as they could see none of them had made any response to their silent incursion.

Yet.

"So this is Earth. Looks much the same, don't you think?"
"Yes, sir" One of the bridge crew behind him said with a longing tone in her voice. "Discounting the rest, it's home."
"What's the good word, T'Var?"

The Vulcan looked absent in thought. Deschamps almost laughed, that was the most he had looked like the good old T'Var, the man that Paul had gotten to know over the last few years and was used to, in weeks.

"Well, captain, even in close detail this Sol system is almost exactly identical to the one you are familiar with. There are some differences in the Earth's biosphere, but they are minute and I assume they have more to do with the different path your race appears to have taken in this reality."
Deschamps couldn't help smiling as he asked him to extrapolate.
"There is a considerably higher level of carbon dioxide, carbon particles and nitrous oxides in the Earth's atmosphere, as well as much lower reserves of several minerals. It seems much of this is due to an earlier form of energy production, most likely petrochemical and coal-based. I read several large energy signatures, most seem to conform to the same kind of by our standards primitive nuclear fusion reactors that we encountered in the Proxima sub-system."

He took a short pause and then continued.

“There’s also less radioactivity in the atmosphere and soil than in that of our Earth, if I read this correctly I come to the conclusion that they didn’t suffer your third World War, or perhaps rather had a less global or apocalyptic version of it.
"Any other differences?"
"Yes, captain. There are several large space stations in orbit, as well as colonies on the Earth's moon and on Mars, which is in what looks like an early stage of terraforming, and a large space station orbiting Jupiter's moon of Io. There's also the same kind of unknown structure near the Io station as we encountered in Proxima, which the computer still can't designate. Since we're close enough to get a good look I can tell you it seems to contain several super-heavy and some sub-dimensional elements it doesn't recognize."
"Alright. Our mission here is complete, and I won't risk going closer in with that much military hardware in our way no matter if we think they can see us or not." Paul ordered. "Do a final scan, and then let's get back home and report this to the fleet."
"Aye, captain." The helm officer reported. He paused, and then added something that got Deschamps thinking. "Captain, I thought you should know. There are a total exceeding more than four thousand vessels in the Sol system as we speak, many of them bulk freighters and military vessels that logically are badly suited for intra-system only operation. Even so, not a single one of them seem to be warp capable, not even the ones in or close to the orbital shipyards at either Luna or Mars."
“Considering that conforms to our scans at Proxima, I'm not terribly surprised. They must have another way of faster-than-light travel that they use rather than the ones we're familiar with." He pondered the question for a second. "Let’s get some good scans of the colonies, stations and the planets done. Have we managed to understand their regular transmissions yet?”
“Yes sir, that really wasn't hard at all as they use pretty much the same radio frequencies as your own civilization did before subspace transmissions became standard practice, but we’re still working on the encrypted communications as well as their tachyon network.”
“Try to gather as much data as possible on this Earth, especially their historical and political data, and if possible the reason behind them having this spaceborne armada. I want to be able to present a full picture to the Admiral when we get back, and not being able to explain why this Earth has a mobilized military force by far exceeding the size of the entire Fifth Fleet is kind of embarrassing. We leave in three hours, T'Var, make the best of it.”


USS ICARUS, COMMAND BRIDGE
CLOSE TO DENOBULA / DENIZALA


“Lieutenant, I think we’ve seen enough now. Bring us back out of the system and take us back to Vulcan at best speed.” Jameson had taken his seat again after checking that the sensor information had been correctly entered for the computer’s analysis.
“Aye sir, plotting a course back to the fleet and engaging at warp 9.”

Commander Jameson's initial guess had been right on the money, the Vree really did look nothing like the Denobulans, and both their own appearance and that of their ships made him remember all those old classic two-dimensional movies he’d wasted his youth on, like ‘War of the Worlds’ or ‘Mars Attacks’. His history buff helm officer had even called them 'Roswell Grays', whatever that meant. The sensor results of their short visit in the system were still being processed by the science teams and computers, but he could already start on his report by simply describing what he'd witnessed with his own eyes.

They had passed close to the Alkaid system, or Nacambari as it was called here, on their way to Denobula. It was populated by a pre-warp civilization of an insectoid race that by all indications had just entered the early industrial age, with a developmental level much like Earth's in the mid-nineteenth century. They hadn't been too surprised to see numerous differences from the standard development pattern of such races, for one example they lived in what seemed to be a collective hive mind governing them which had also apparently slowed down their scientific advancements quite drastically, as they'd taken centuries to develop technology his own world had developed in less than a decade. There had been little that he would call interesting to see on the planet itself, even though they had still made some scans. After all science was always science and studying emerging civilizations was always interesting enough to make someone say the quick stop required to do so had been definitely worthwhile.

They hadn’t found much else of note in the system however, except yet another of those massive apparatuses in orbit around one of the outer planetoids but in what seemed to be a state of grave disrepair. For the first time they'd found traces of colonization, on said planetoid no less, though the new discovery had a definite downside in that it also wore the unmistakable scars of suffering through heavy orbital bombardment. What made people blink twice was that this bombardment seemed to be fairly recent, sensor data put their estimations at no longer than twenty and probably closer to fifteen years ago.

It was hard to determine exactly as it looked more like if someone had thrown asteroids or solid metal shells at the planet rather than using weapons more familiar to the Starfleet crew such as energy weapons or bombs. They had already analyzed and rejected the possibility of this being a natural phenomenon as the chances of a single asteroid entering the atmosphere of a planet at close to a ninety degree angle is low enough, and the chances of two dozen doing it in rapid succession in a perfectly linear pattern and across a total of three thousand kilometers were pretty much zero.

After witnessing three of the League races he'd been forced to admit they simply had to have some kind of technology for interstellar travel, but until he found these Vree he had no actual or tangible evidence of exactly what it was or how it worked. His search for this proof had been effectively completed in the Denizala system when he had seen one of the large saucer shaped ships open what looked very much like a tear in the very fabric of space-time itself only to enter it and vanish completely from all but the most subtle subspace bands. The closest the computer had been able to get in analyzing this phenomenon was an artificial wormhole, but even that only scored a low-grade partial match of the energy signature.

He’d been star struck just staring at the swirling red portal as the ship had quickly entered it, and he'd almost been disappointed when the portal closed just as quickly as it had appeared leaving only a faint imprint that the sensors could barely detect as evidence that it had ever existed in the first place. To make matters worse he was forced to admit to the suddenly inquisitive Bajoran captain that neither he nor any of his crew had any idea what that vortex was, how it worked, or even how to replicate it. His best scientists and sensor analyst had been just as awestruck as he'd been, and were still trying to wrap their heads about the basic principles involved in opening such a portal, not to mention getting it stable enough to enter and more importantly exit in a safe and effective manner. Well, at least he’d been able to get some solid sensor readings and a detailed recording of exactly what had happened from his and the Victory’s points of view. Whatever good that would do except prove what they already knew in the first place, that this place wasn't home anymore and that the rules had changed.

What was even more surprising, something which in itself was nigh impossible as it stood, was the fact that the Vree ship’s energy source scored a 98% energy signature match to a third generation or Kirk-era Klingon antimatter reactor. The sensors couldn’t identify any of the other components that were required for the faster-than-light drive except that the ship carried an unknown heavy mineral in its main energy matrix. Whatever this portal technology was it was so completely alien to what the Federation and associated races had ever encountered that the computers didn't even know where to start looking much less give any answers.

They had however managed to deduce the function of the four parallel metal beam structure, as they’d been able to see them activate from a very close perspective. While performing a deep structural scan on the apparently abandoned derelict it had suddenly activated, the four beams using thrusters to expand the distance between them and through a series of controlled high energy particle emissions created another one of these sinkholes in space. The revelation they'd been given had been one only appreciated quite a while later however, as they had been too busy trying to save their own asses rather than study sensor data at the time.

The crew had been lucky they had their warp drive hot as well as an alert helmsman, or they’d probably have ended up being rammed by one of the most massive ships he’d ever seen. The ship in question looked primitive but had measured in at more than three kilometers in length and it carried at least a ten million metric tons of various types of what was assumed to be civilian cargo. Quite something to see when you know your entire ship only weighs in at just over a hundred thousand tons in itself. Sure, Federation bulk transports were also by necessity much larger than the relatively small Nova science ship, but this ship dwarfed most if not all of those as well. Judging by what the sensors told them the ship was carrying, he made the educated guess that the Vree lacked any form of molecular replication as there would otherwise be no reason to transport, or considering the ship looked like it was of human design more likely import, among others sweet water from one planet to another at a probably high price. Water is just too simple a molecule to not be able to replicate if you could replicate anything at all.

They had been able to intercept some communications, most of them civilian but also a few low-level diplomatic messages. These had allowed Jameson to add yet another few names to the star map. Most of the former Romulan Empire had now been replaced with something called ‘the Centauri Republic’, their home world located on the first planet of the Theta Centauri system, ironically enough a dead world that had never developed any form of life in Jameson’s universe. Most of Klingon space was now replaced with a shaded area with the annotation ‘Minbari Federation?’ and the area closest to Sol, including several systems like Vega, Alpha Centauri, Orion, Deneb, Draylax and Altair were in a blue-bordered area with the text ‘Earth Alliance’ attached.

Getting information on the Earth Alliance and the Centauri Republic had been quite simple, and Jameson considered those parts of the star map to be mostly correct, discounting any classified military outposts or secret resourcing operations in other systems. He was surprised at how few of the systems in the claimed space that were colonized as he knew from his travels that among many others the Sirius system had several planets that were far more hospitable than Vega II, Draylax Prime or Proxima III was, but apparently it had been overlooked for colonization, as had both Andoria and Vulcan, while Orion system (which is located just past Vulcan seen from Earth) had likewise been claimed even though it by Federation standards wouldn't even classify as M-class even though it had a mostly breathable atmosphere. It made little sense from his point of view, but he was starting to suspect that this alternative faster-than-light technology had its limitations. It was the only theory that could explain these apparent conundrums.

He was a little apprehensive at the fact that the entire fleet were essentially hiding out within what was effectively by most other races considered to be Earth-claimed space, even when there was no evidence that the system had ever even been visited much less claimed or tagged for colonization by the Alliance or anyone else. But in the end he knew it wasn’t his decision on where they should be or what they should do. All he had to do was to follow orders and do his job, and right now that was something he could take comfort in. He'd leave the rest up to the higher ranked people who had actually accepted that kind of work in the first place.

"Well then, I think I'll go get some sleep. It's been a while." Jameson rose from the captain's chair. It was late, and it had been a long day. “Lieutenant, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my quarters if anything should come up.”
“Yes, sir. Good night, commander.”

Tomorrow would be a long day too.

[Zcenicx]

"I know the Albion doesn't feel the effects yet, but she's not a design standard Sovereign either."


Chapter 3


USS ALBION, DECK 8 SICKBAY
GEOSTATIONARY ORBIT ABOVE VULCAN
JULY 19TH, 2243. 10:00 HOURS


The admiral still felt a little weak, but at least he wasn't as tired as he had been anymore. Not that he'd actually appreciated being stuck in sickbay or the constant attention he'd been getting from the ship’s doctors all that much even then. He knew the overall situation well enough, he had still received continuous reports on the fleets condition, but he would much rather be on the bridge or in his office where he could do his job much more effectively rather than stuck down here. Unfortunately the irritating young doctor had told him straight to his face that since he didn't trust the admiral to take it easy he couldn't let him go back to duty, and when the admiral tried to object he'd just left the room and locked the door behind him. There weren't many people in all of Starfleet that could lock a vice admiral in his room, but a mere starship physician could just refer to it as a medical decision and suddenly whatever rank you had just became utterly and effectively meaningless.

Now, more than two weeks later, the doctor had finally been forced to admit that he couldn't give any realistic reasons to justify keeping the admiral in sickbay anymore. The constant excuses of 'observation', 'further testing' or 'monitored rest' had already started to get old a week ago, and by now they were just rapidly becoming yet more reasons why this energetic young man should be reassigned to waste disposal, or the even less enjoyable job of cleaning the warp plasma conduits in the nacelles for a few weeks. Or months. He would have to think about that.

Well, Samuel had at least been given his own alcove, separated with a door no less from the rest of the sickbay's patients and personnel, and that small but important measure of privacy was something he had actually quite appreciated. If nothing else it somewhat shielded his ears from the noise the other occupants made. He hadn't entirely realized how many wounded they had picked up from Starbase 10, but now that he'd been in close proximity to a number of them he'd been shown the reality of the situation. He almost felt guilty taking up an entire alcove all by himself when there were obviously, at least from his point of view, others that needed it more. Of course, when he'd taken that point up with the doctor he'd merely shrugged and told him to get some more rest while he could.

Even though he had collapsed, there was nothing really wrong with him that needed this kind of advanced or for that sake long-term care. He'd suffered a couple of broken ribs, a sprained wrist and a minor concussion from his quick flying lesson across the Albion's bridge, but those injuries were all by their standards minor and had all been easily repaired within an hour of him arriving in sickbay. He wasn't old or decrepit, just barely past his fortieth birthday in a society that regularly lived in good health well past their hundreds, and to both his own knowledge and according to the medical scans he'd seen he was in fairly good physical shape and there had been no permanent damage either. Still, the doctors had decided to keep him within eyeshot with some fragmented comments about command officers, stress, and being boneheaded, all stated just low enough to ensure a demotion wouldn't be very rapidly handed out but still loudly enough for him to hear every word.

Getting up and already having gathered the numerous pads that had just minutes ago been spread all over the alcove he zipped up his black and gray duty uniform jacket and carefully checked that his rank insignia, a brooch on either side of the collar forming three golden pips in a golden rectangle, were in their correct places and that they weren't lopsided. Even though he normally wouldn't care too much about it there was enough confusion and fear on the ship without a lopsided admiral walking around, especially considering the fact that as far as anyone could tell he was all of a sudden the highest ranking Starfleet officer in the entire Milky Way galaxy, or the rest of the universe for that matter.

Still, he couldn't worry about that all the time nor could he be too preoccupied with crew morale or the care of wounded, no matter how deeply he felt about these issues. He was more than intelligent enough to know that if he started to dig too deeply into the smaller problems he'd quickly be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of them and effectively become useless. His job was the big problems and the big decisions, and to let the captains and by association their own officers take care of their own smaller ones free of his interference. With only a wave and a smile to the duty nurse, he left sickbay in the care of her and the doctors and left to go make some of those big decisions about the big problems.

The admiral's quarters on the Albion were about the size of his apartment back home in San Diego, which actually said more about the size of his apartment than about the living quarters. They were more than large enough to serve as both office and personal quarters, though not large enough to have more than two or three visitors at any given time. As this had only been supposed to be a temporary combat posting the rooms were only sparsely decorated, and the only personal belongings he’d brought with him to the Albion were holo-pictures of his old friends on the Galaxy and a copy of his parents wedding picture. Except for his brother he had no family of his own since their parents had passed away several years ago, him never having had the time to make one rather than not actually wanting one. It was at times like this he appreciated that, being that it was one less reason to become depressed. He'd seen far too many crewmen start falling apart inside as they realized what family they had probably already thought they were dead, and that the chances of them getting home to disprove that were slim to non-existent.

He immersed himself in the more detailed reports that had literally flooded his small desk in his absence, making short notes on another pad about what issues to request more information on, what decision should be made in others on a second, and what decisions he wasn't even supposed to make on a third, until the beeping sound of the doorbell pierced the silence.

He straightened himself up and pushed a few pads away as he said "Enter."
He'd have expected his brother to be the first one to come by, but even though the uniform color and rank insignia was correct, the person wearing it was not.

"Captain Duval!" He gave her a honest smile and quickly rose and walked up to give her a quick hug. "I wasn't expecting visitors and even less so you, though you are of course just as welcome as always. What can I do for you?"
He motioned for her to sit down in one of the chairs across the desk.
"Admiral, I'm glad you've recovered." She thanked him with a tired smile and sat down in the offered chair. "The fleet's mostly silent, and I'm here as much because I need a friend to talk to as much as in my official capacity."
"I understand, Sheila, trust me, I do."
"Still…"
West looked at his watch, then continued; "Can I get you something? It's almost lunch time and I've lived on nothing but sickbay rations for the last two weeks."
"Just coffee, Sam, but thanks for offering."
"Like you used to take it?"
"That'll do nicely."

He rose and went over to the replicator, returning a minute later with two steaming cups of coffee, one with just a bit of synthetic scotch in and the other with milk and sugar.

"So, tell me. What can fleet command do for the Independence, and more importantly what can I do for you?"

Samuel and Sheila had known each other for the better part of their respective careers, as they'd both been assigned to the Galaxy for several years, Sam as first officer and Sheila as the ship's navigator, and when the captain had been killed in the Dominion War they had each taken a step up the career ladder. West as the new captain, and Duval as the new first officer. Their friendship had been cemented during the three years that followed until the Galaxy was finally recalled for a full service and refit, and at that time they were both promoted and subsequently transferred.

Sheila had been given command of the newly christened Sovereign-class starship Independence, assigned to Deep Space 9 and their exploration of the Gamma Quadrant, while Samuel was assigned to oversee Starfleet's ship re-development operations at the San Francisco fleet yards (less formally known as Earth Spacedock), where he had worked on among others the so-called Borg refits of the Norway and Saber class ships. Being forty thousand light years apart put a strain on any friendship, but even though they'd been apart for more than three years they'd kept in touch as much as possible.

Enough for Samuel to know exactly what Sheila needed to talk about, even without her telling, and enough for her to be open about it to him.

"It must be hard for you. I read the report as well."
"It was a damn waste, Sam, a damn waste of a damn good man."
He just nodded. "I didn't know him personally, but I doubt you'd have accepted him if he wasn't. I'm sorry, Sheila."

The man in question was Justin Blake, the fleet liaison at Starbase 10. He’d just been a formal acquaintance of West's, being that he rarely spoke to him except in reports and requests, but he was much more than that to Sheila, he was at least her boyfriend, and if you listened to the rumors floating about the crew probably her fiancée until just a few weeks ago. Samuel knew well the truth behind it, they had quite correctly been engaged but for some reason he didn't know the exact details about they'd broken it off just after the war broke out and she'd been transferred to his command.

Ironically he was somewhat delighted in that fact, he didn't really like it but he'd been envious of Blake ever since he'd started seeing Sheila. Sam and Sheila had been one of those unfortunate pairs who had always had feelings for one another, strong ones at that, but had always been hindered by regulations as both were Starfleet officers of differing rank and in the same command structure. It was yet another one of the reasons he'd never made a family of his own, as most of the women he met were in the same situation and he had always subconsciously compared them with the woman now drinking coffee in his quarters.

"I heard it was quick, that he didn't have to suffer." She sighed. "We had our differences, but I still feel he didn't deserve that."

He nodded, Blake had been killed in the massive explosion that had resulted from a disruptor blast hitting one of the station's antimatter pods, you didn't typically survive that for more than fractions of a second. "I can verify that. He never felt a thing."

Sheila just stared emptily into the wall beside him. He felt it would be inconsiderable to say anything, so he just waited for her to snap out of it for a few minutes but as she didn't seem to do so on her own he finally broke the silence and asked her.

"While I am sorry about Justin." He said. "You wanted to see me about something else as well?"
"Oh... yes, that's right." She looked startled. "We have a slight but increasingly important problem with a few of our ships, and unfortunately I have to admit that the Independence is one among them. It's just a minor issue right now, but it may soon prove to be more than that unless we find a lasting solution very quickly."
West raised an eyebrow.
"Admiral, we're carrying over a hundred, actually closer to a hundred and five thousand people in a fleet of ships designed to carry only a sixth of that number for an extended period of time. I know the Albion doesn't feel the effects yet, but she's not a design standard Sovereign either. Unlike the space superiority design of the Independence, or the long-range survey design of the Discovery, she was constructed to the command and control, or as it's also known the flagship parameters."

He had to search his mind for the differences. He had studied the Sovereign design specs in detail just a few months ago and he did know most Sovereign-class ships were specialized towards a specific function, though still able to perform most others to a high standard as well. Even so, they weren't identical and Sheila was quite correct that some of the differences were also quite important. He found what he was searching for, and understood what Duval was trying to avoid saying outright.

"Damn it. You're right, that's going to be a problem."

[Zcenicx]

"This is an Earth-designed starship as they look in this universe, and yes she really is this big. From what we’ve been able to decipher she’s also not unique but rather one of several hundred of her class."


USS ALBION, CONFERENCE ROOM
GEOSTATIONARY ORBIT ABOVE VULCAN
18 HOURS LATER


Jameson was slightly stressed as he almost ran down the corridors from the turbolift exit. He'd only just gotten back to the fleet and pretty much as soon as they had exited warp he'd been ordered to transport over to the Albion for a full-fledged Fleet Command meeting. He wasn't that surprised considering what he'd been doing for the last two weeks or what he'd seen while doing it, but the apparent hurry did both surprise and worry him just as he'd been surprised that these orders were given before he'd even reported back. He'd expected to at least get an hour or two to wind down before he'd be debriefed and for the meeting being between him and a select few of his peers, not every single one.

Now, here he was on the task force's flagship running down a corridor. He'd already gotten lost twice, not something he was proud of but in his defense he'd never even set his foot on a Sovereign before today. It felt even bigger when actually being inside than you'd expect by looking at it from the outside, especially as the ship at first glance was visually very similar to his much smaller Nova. Finally getting to the conference room he found the door open and most, if not all, of the other ship captains already seated. That included, as if to spite him, the red-headed figure of captain Kira.

At the head of the table he could see the graying but still quite forceful appearance of the task force's commanding officer, vice admiral West. He'd only met the man in person once before, and even though he looked a little bit tired he was still undoubtedly the commanding presence in the room. He didn't look irritated at Jameson's late arrival, but had a rather worried expression instead, something that surprised him more than anything else.

"Jameson! Good you could finally join us. Come in and take a seat, I was just about to start the meeting and it just wouldn't be right to do that without the guests of honor, now would it?"

Jameson took a seat between captains Duval of the Independence and T’Pell of the Valiant, giving each of them as both were formally his superiors a quick nod of respect, and put the data pads he'd been carrying on the table in front of him.

"Ladies, gentlemen. Fellow captains. Now that I'm finally out of sickbay we have some decisions we have to make, and rapidly as well since I've been informed that our available time is quickly running out."

West sat down at the end of the table, and his face still carried that worried look even as it was quickly covered by stern resolve.

"We'll have to decide on what course we're going to take from here on out. As captain Duval thankfully brought to my attention yesterday we won't be able to stay here in orbit inactive indefinitely. As you all know most of the ships in this task force are combat or exploration vessels which were never designed to carry refugees at all, much less for a very prolonged period of time." He paused and his eyes met those of the destroyer and cruiser captains. "Also, most of those who were, like the Galaxies and Nebulas, have later lost much of this ability in the subsequent combat refits they've undergone, something I know I'm personally at least partially to blame for. Even the Sovereign and Excelsior-class ships are starting to experience problems with their environmental and life support system from the strain caused by the increased onboard population, and the situation is only worsening as we stay here."

Except for the admirals voice, the room was dead silent. They all knew this was true, but it's one thing to know something and another thing entirely to get it verified and to hear that everyone else also knew.

“The only exception thus far is the Albion, as she was designed by flagship standards. She’s still the arguably most powerful military vessel we have available, but while the other Sovereigns were designed to carry a larger amount of weapons and ordnance in one case, more fuel and better more powerful sensors in the other, the Albion among other things has redundant high-efficiency air filtration and life support systems to combat biological or chemical warfare. That’s the reason she’s got an extra deck compared to the Independence or Discovery, and why she can at least in theory carry more people than the other two combined before the life support systems even start to strain.”

He paused, shifted a bit in his chair and turned his gaze towards the assembly once more.

"So, what we need to decide on right now is where we can settle down. Not if we should do so, or how we can get home. We won't find a way back home before we start losing a whole lot of people due to system failures and while I both can, will and have ordered people to their deaths in battle, I'm not prepared to ask people to die of asphyxia or starvation simply because we don't want to face reality. I want options people, options and opinions. Now, start talking."

Even Jameson was shocked by the admiral’s directness, and judging by the other captains' appearances he was hardly alone in his reaction either. Only Duval and the younger brother West still looked at least fairly calm, and he concluded that the admiral had already talked to the two of them at length in private prior to this meeting. It wasn't surprising either, as the admiral had already stated that Duval had brought it up and of course the captain of the Albion would be the best source of information about what made his ship different from the others.

"Admiral" a Vulcan captain who Jameson didn't recognize had spoken. "As my home planet is right here below us and so evidently unpopulated, I would suggest that it is the most logical choice for us to settle here. There are ample amounts of resources readily available to the fleet, and..."
"We could just as well settle on Andoria, and even *I* don't think that'd be our best option!" T’Pell quickly interjected. "I might be Andorian and I may still long for my home city below the frozen sea, but these pink-skin vessels have taught me one thing, and that's to enjoy temperatures that stay above freezing..."
"Logic would dictate..."
"Take your precious logic and shove..."

The argument between the Vulcan and the Andorian quickly escalated, but was just as suddenly stopped dead as the sharp voice of captain Keyes broke through.

"Stop it, both of you!" She both looked and sounded angry. "You're behaving worse than two Ezalian dung beetles during mating season." The two arguing captains suddenly stopped dead in their tracks and both looked quite insulted, and by all rights. Jameson knew just how hilarious what she'd described looked. She didn't even bother looking at them before she continued.

"Neither planet is a good option. Vulcan is a desert planet with deadly dust storms, electrical storms which even in our own universe causes the Vulcans numerous problems, and crucially not a whole lot of natural sweet water. Andoria on the other hand has plenty of water, but what it lacks in dust storms and heat it makes up for in blizzards and a surface temperature that has even your naturally adapted species living below ground in geothermally heated caverns."
"May I ask what would your suggestion be, Elisha?" Duval's softer voice was a refreshing change from Keyes' sharp tone.
Keyes quickly replied with another question. "Jameson, Deschamps. We've heard you found some other races out there, among them humans. What more information did you manage to gather on your expeditions?"

Jameson looked at Deschamps. They were thinking the same thing. Deschamps spoke first.
"Admiral, perhaps we could move this discussion to one of the holodecks?"
"I have to concur that it would be a more suitable locale for an effective debrief." Jameson added.

Admiral West just nodded and motioned for the door.


USS ALBION, HOLODECK 1


Jameson and Deschamps had needed a little time to get their holodeck program working and to verify their facts with each other. Each had been able to get parts of the picture, in some places it overlapped, and in others it had been discovered neither had a single piece of the puzzle. What became a problem was that some of the information didn't match, but they attributed these anomalies to local politics and differences in points of view between the different local races. One such area was the border between the Narn and the Centauri, where the two combined had collected no less than six different versions of exactly which systems belonged to which of the two empires.

"As you can see from this corrected star map, most of this universe seems to still be in the right place when compared to our own, with only a few although noteworthy exceptions." Jameson continued his recital, as he saw Kira trying not to look at the red circle around a now empty region of space. "As far as we can tell there are only five stars missing in the entire Alpha Quadrant when compared to the ones present in our own universe, at least that's as far as we've been able to verify this data from the vantage points we've had."
"The most notable are of course those of Bajor and Romulus." Deschamps stated. "The latter is a black hole system in this universe, the former just isn't there. Two of the others have gone nova in this universe while the fifth seems to have collided with another star and thus effectively been swallowed up. We attribute some of these differences to the chaos effect, that the same event won't always happen the same way if repeated with the exact same variables, and some of it to the absence of some variables such as for example there being no Romulans on Romulus to intercede."
"That'd also be the reason why some planets haven't developed life, and others went a completely different path than they did in ours." Jameson continued. "We surmise that most if not even all of the differences between this universe and our own may very well stem from a single event happening in a different way than it should have several millions, possibly even billions, of years ago."

This prompted a few looks from the other Captains, but Deschamps quickly took over.

"We've tried to indicate what worlds are colonized and which are otherwise claimed by the different powers that exist here on this map. The three single-colored areas-" He pointed towards a blue, red and green area bordering each other in succession. "-seem to be governed by mostly single-race societies called the Earth Alliance-" He indicated the blue blob centered around Earth "-the Centauri Republic-" The green area that covered most of the Romulan Star Empire flashed. "-and the Minbari Federation." The red, formerly Klingon, area flashed.

He took a sip of water from the holographic tray.

"The larger purple area is a sort of loose economic alliance called 'the League of Non-Aligned Worlds', which comprises a total of some fifty member races. Unfortunately, neither of our expeditions revealed any trace of any other Federation races besides humans and a surprising fact is that even counting a number of pre-warp civilizations we've found there's still less than ten percent of the racial diversity we’d expect when compared to the Alpha Quadrant we're used to. Since most other home worlds still exist here and are quite frequently just as habitable as we'd expect, we can only conclude that any intelligent life that did develop on these worlds was either destroyed long ago or never developed at all. This has also raised some questions as to whether our own universe has experienced some kind of event that increased the odds of intelligent life actually developing."

"It is also not an entirely correct statement to say that humans exist here either, even though we're very closely related my science teams analyzed the genetic structure of these humans and we were able to find several important genetic differences. While we're still close enough to be considered the same species, the differences between us are larger than between any two given human races, like African and Chinese, that developed on either version of Earth, ours or theirs."

Deschamps stepped back again, handing the recital back to Jameson.

“There are other differences between us as well. As you all know we’ve traveled back in time approximately 120 years. By our standards we’ve gone back to pretty much the time work was started on building the Constitution-class cruisers. Actually let’s be precise, we arrived in this universe on the exact date berths were reserved at the San Francisco fleet yards for the prototype and design proof ships NX-1700 and NX-1701, later known by their christened names Constitution and Enterprise. In our universe and with our timeline, the Constitution's keel was laid out only four days ago.”

This prompted a few reactions and quick comments among the crowd of ship commanders. There wasn’t a Starfleet officer alive who didn’t recognize those names, or who didn't know the name of the Enterprise's most famous captain.

“However, in this universe the starship technology Earth has available seems to be quite different from what we'd expect to see and what we're used to.”
They were suddenly standing in what looked like open space above a dark planet, with the massive hulk of the EAS Lancelot rendered in front of them.
“This is an Earth-designed starship as they look in this universe, and yes she really is this big. From what we’ve been able to decipher she’s also not unique but rather one of several hundred of her class, specifically called a Nova-class dreadnought. While she looks… impressive, to say the least, she’s actually designed around technology we would see as quite primitive by our standards even at this relative time." He paused to take a sip of water and let the image in front of them sink in. "Discounting the fact that there are guns mounted just about everywhere they could be welded to her superstructure, we counted a total of 34 offensive weapon mounts and numerous defensive, these are all laser or plasma based. The ship is powered entirely by a number of large but relatively primitive fusion reactors, and propelled by four ion particle drives. However, the ship lacks any known form of shielding technology, any kind of effective inertial dampeners and, perhaps most surprisingly, artificial gravity.”

“The technological difference is actually far greater than even that.” Deschamps interjected. “According to what we were able to find on their information network, the Galaxy Net, this Earth lacks even the most basic form of molecular replication, transporter, holographic, subspace, force field, antimatter or impulse technologies, all of these being fields we were already taking pretty much for granted in this point in our own timeline.”

"There are numerous other differences as well.” Jameson continued. “From monitoring several of the different races we've deduced that while they do indeed have faster-than-light technology, it's not even remotely close to resembling what we use or anything we've ever encountered before in our own universe. While we've found evidence of antimatter technology, we have only confirmed its use as a power source and as a weapon, not as a means of propulsion like our warp engines. In fact, I doubt any ships we've seen so far would survive even traveling at a fractional, much less a relativistic, speed. They're simply not designed to be able to hold up against the accelerating stress, and completely lack any form of deflector array."

The Lancelot faded out and was replaced with the swirling vortex they'd witnessed in the Denobula system. "This is what they seem to use instead, some kind of spatial or dimensional rift technology for interstellar travel rather than warp drives, and instead of subspace they use tachyon particles for communication and sensors."

The image changed again to indicate the four beam structure. "This structure seems to be the only way most of their ships are able to enter or exit this spatial rift, and it's our understanding that any system lacking one of these would be unexplored or at the very least unclaimed. From the data gathered by the Darwin and the Icarus, we’ve selected these three systems-" The map appeared again with three systems highlighted. “-as our recommendations for a settlement. All of these are unexplored, unclaimed, and have Mishara class planets well within Earth parameters. We also know there are enough resources to fit our needs.”
The map zoomed in and the three stars and the indicated planets were all brought into view.
"Alpha Canis Majoris also known as Sirius. Eta Cassiopeia or as we call it Terra Nova, and finally Trillius Prime and the Trill homeworld." Jameson counted them off.
"Our recommendation in this case would be the Sirius system, not only because it is unclaimed but also since its location ensures us that whatever resources the system lacks itself are readily available in nearby and likewise unclaimed systems." Deschamps shrugged. "Other than that, they are all good options for settling down."

[Zcenicx]

"Trust me, if the Centauri Emperor had lost his hair we'd have heard about it from a lot more sources than just him. It'd be the greatest story of the year to anyone and everyone in the entire Centauri court."


USS MICHAEL, HANGAR DECK C
SIRIUS III POLAR ORBIT
AUGUST 2ND, 2243


Jack was still glad to have survived, no matter what the current situation was. Being alive in another dimension was after all a far better option than being dead in his own. Plus, he had finally gotten the transfer to a combat carrier he’d been requesting for the last three years, even though the reason for said transfer was of course somewhat unfortunate for a lot of other people.

The Michael had it all, fighters, interceptors, shuttles, runabouts, just to name a few, and more than enough professionals handling these machines just like what they were. His father had always told him that home was where one’s heart was, and no matter how ironic, terrible or sad the circumstances were lieutenant commander Jack Davis knew that he was home.

Take-off and landing was a bit trickier than it had been on Starbase 10, but he could live with that. He had just slightly more than one and a half meters of clearance from the roof and floor to the hull of his Peregrine, less than he was used to but this was mostly because the Michael effectively had four hangar decks stacked on top of each other. The hangar bay doors were designed to allow the largest type of Federation shuttle a thirty centimeters of clearance, total, and no more. Pilot skill wasn't just an assumed fact, it was a requirement for not just your own survival but that of those around you as well.

Combat takeoffs were also something he’d been forced to practice, as the hangar was designed to be just wide enough for two Peregrines and one Valkyrie to launch simultaneously in a close wedge formation. Timing and course had to be perfect, as in real combat they launched from all four hangars at almost the exact same time, the delay being only a five second interval between the first and last decks. In real combat, that would be handled by the fighters' autopilots as to not cause a massive incident, but during training it was usually a frightening hands-on experience.

That meant the Michael could empty its hangars of fighters in just over two minutes if and when necessary, and he’d been awestruck as he saw the CAP crew perform that maneuver as soon as they'd entered the system, thirty six starfighters had launched in less than half a minute. That took nerves of steel and Jack couldn’t wait to do it for real himself one day.

Still, he had a lot of work ahead of him before they'd trust a mere former garrison pilot to do something most experienced carrier pilots still dreaded no matter what they actually told you. He hadn't even been assigned to a combat squadron yet, but he knew that was just a question of time, training and proving your mettle. He still had his sights set on an empty seat in the carrier's crack team, the Angel wing. That posting didn't mean just learning to master a combat launch though, it meant becoming an expert at it. At that and at so much more, he reminded himself.

Today, his job wasn’t combat though, but rather a dull VIP transfer. As per tradition when a new colony was established the would-be founder always touched ground from a shuttle and always carried one of those old shovels to take the symbolic first steps towards the new foundation.

He turned away from the repaired, refitted, repainted and rearmed sleek Peregrine-II starfighter that had been so close to becoming his coffin, and turned instead to the, comparatively, bulky shape of a Type-11 shuttle. The admiral would be arriving any minute now along with most of the fleet’s engineering, science and command officers. He wouldn't be the only pilot charged with shuttle duty today, as there was no way more than a hundred people could fit in a single tin can, but rather twelve of them had been neatly parked along the hanger floor in order of rank and ship class. He managed a smile though, his was after all the first one in the line.


FEDERATION RUNABOUT GREENWICH, PASSENGER LOUNGE
APPROACHING SIRIUS III


Admiral’s log, Stardate 57586.4. This will be my final entry with a Federation standard timestamp.
It didn’t take long for me and the fleet’s Captains to reach a final decision, as of the three planets proposed Sirius was just as Deschamps pointed out the most logical choice. It was not just the relatively close position to Earth that tipped the scales for me, albeit I must admit it is a factor that weighed heavily, but it’s also the richest system of the three in terms of the resources we'd need and the amounts we may need them in. Unless anything drastic happens, we should be self-sufficient here.

As of today, August 2nd, 2380 by our time, same date 2243 local time, at ten hundred hours, I have activated the prime directive by reason of protecting this universe’s timeline and natural development. Orders have been given to construct a new permanent settlement here on Sirius III to house the close to a hundred thousand people we carry in this fleet, with additional facilities in orbit such as defense platforms, shipyard facilities and supply depots to ensure our continued welfare. I’ve also after a number of such requests ordered the production of a gas mining complex orbiting the Sirius V gas giant.

Considering the apparently violent history of this universe, as well as the obviously militaristic and in many cases despotic regimes ruling several of the races we’ve encountered, we’ll keep our heads down but our eyes open and our guns loaded. I won’t be dissolving the fleet, decommissioning the ships or use them as spare parts, no matter what the directive requires of me. Well, not most of them at least. If all goes well we shouldn’t have to ever use them in hostile action, but one never knows and I’d rather keep that ace in my sleeve should we ever need it.

With our crews and evacuees likely being the only Federation there is in this universe, I suppose we’ll have to discuss our future organization as well, sooner or later. It’s not a debate I’m looking forward to, but I am still quite certain it’ll come up.

I’m heading the delegation bound for the planet. We’ll break ground on the new settlement near where New Washington would be on the Sirius that I remember. We’ve yet to settle for a name, but considering I delegated that speech to Elisha, I’m sure she’ll come up with something fitting considering she was born and raised here. The plans for the first parts of the settlement are already complete, and the engineering crews on all ships are working double shifts at the moment, trying to get everything started. My only requirement was that the settlement should be constructed in a way that makes it hard if not impossible to visually identify from anything but a close-range visual inspection. I have no doubt I'll be pleasantly satisfied.

It’s surprising how little time they anticipated it would take to get the first stage of construction finished, but I’m sure they plan on cheating. Or, more specifically, using the Archangel-class carriers’ industrial-sized replicators to construct modular structures which are then transported to the surface, as it's what I would have done had I still been a ship's engineer. As long as it works I’m fine with that, I just hope they don’t get their priorities too twisted up. I don’t want to get a report that the fleet’s run out of antimatter just because they decided to build a spa complex before they even got started on a quantum inversion plant or a deuterium refinery.

The landing site is just now coming into range. I still think we picked a beautiful spot to start our new life. A peninsula stretching out into one of the larger lakes, cut off from the mainland by gently rolling hills. The entire area is covered in trees much resembling birch, elm and oak, and I'm told there are ample amounts of herbivore wildlife around as well. All in all a paradise of nature's own creation in a temperate climate such as this. I’m told we can expect snow in the winter too. I don’t know why, but looking down at this scenery reminds me of home. Not the apartment in San Diego, but the town I grew up in near Stockholm.

It seems I must cut this log entry short as I’ll soon be required in my official function. Let me just add that this may be the end of one life, but it’s the start of an entirely new age. For me and for my crew.
Computer, end log. Transmit the previous entry to the USS Albion, clearance code West, Omega-four-three-Zulu.


EARTH INTELLIGENCE AGENCY HEADQUARTERS
EARTHDOME, GENEVA


“So, Parker, you still chasing those sensor ghosts?” The older intelligence supervisor said it with the sarcastic tone of a half-joke. “You do know it was probably just a practical joke among the Belters anyways. No need to waste any more of your or for that sake the Agency's time on it.”
“I’m not as confident it's a fraud as you are, David. I managed to get a copy of the sensor logs from the ‘Pasadena Skies’, and they’re high end especially for a Belter heavy bulk freighter. The detail is much higher than you'd expect, and high enough for them to be hard to fake even down on the third floor.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a hoax Parker, and you know that." David shrugged. "It wouldn’t exactly be the first time they did that, and the last time they did it took us almost a year to positively dismiss it as the hoax it was. They're probably still laughing about the ghost busting on the fifth floor today.”
“I know, I know." Parker sighed but tightened his grip on the crystal he was holding. "But it looks real enough to warrant an investigation and I have to follow my instincts, David. Something just tells me there’s more to this than just the vivid imaginations of a bored Belter. Even if it isn’t what it looks like."
"A ship travelling faster than the speed of light?" David raised an eyebrow as he smiled. "Get real."
"I admit, it's not all that believable.” Parker shrugged. "We'll see, either way I am going to check it out."

The focus of the small debate was the alleged sighting of a small and apparently unarmed ship, probably a luxury passenger liner of what was obviously alien design, which was supposed to have been just sitting there right in front of the hyperspace window generator of a jump gate in Vree space completely oblivious of its location or situation. Then, just as the jump gate had activated and the ‘Pasadena Skies’, a Belt Alliance heavy bulk freighter had exited and almost rammed the small ship, the ship was supposed to have stretched, accelerated to what would have to be faster-than-light speeds and vanished without another trace. Not the most believable story, but the Belter ship had forwarded their sensor logs to Earth Force nonetheless, even though every single person who'd seen them since had gotten a good laugh out of it.

The general opinion about the story, both at Earthforce and here at the EIA was that it had about the same factual content as one of those skin cream commercials they showed on ISN, but while most intelligent analysts tended to follow that line of reasoning some others, including Parker, didn’t quite agree. Officially they were called conspiracy theorists, and regarded with about as much respect as the world showed the people that believed in the conspiracies about JFK, 9/11 or WW3. That hadn’t stopped them, and it didn’t stop Geoffrey Parker. What was even better was that he got paid to thoroughly research junk like this, but he had to admit he was skeptical as well. Still, people had thought the same about the twentieth-century UFO sightings until they'd made official contact with the Vree as well. One of Parker's favored quotes was 'just because you're paranoid doesn't mean people aren't out to get you'.

“Aw, come on Parker. What they describe is impossible, you do know that right?" David made a sneer. "Plus, we’d know if anyone was even close to developing anything that looked like, or for that sake actually did, what that UFO was supposed to have done.”
“You know as well as I do that faster-than-light travel is theoretically possible, David." Parker rebutted. "We use tachyons on a daily basis, and they travel much faster than that. Now, getting a spacecraft, especially one as small as that one, to do the same is… well, not bloody likely, I'll admit that, but still I need to at least prove it a hoax if it is.”
“Good luck.” David smiled widely, the sarcasm almost dense enough to be dripping from his teeth. “Happy ghost busting, Parker. While you're wasting your time on that I’m going to go check up on our mutual friend on Centauri.”
“Heh, something tells me I have a better chance of getting a hint of truth out of this." Parker held up the crystal and gave it a completely unnecessary cleaning with his shirt sleeve. "Then you'll ever have of getting something worthwhile out of young Lord Mordechai. He's just way too self-centered, and will gladly lie to your face if he believes it suits his purposes. Granted, most up and coming Centauri lords would."
"What makes you say that?" David asked, with a look on his face that showed that he clearly didn't understand Parker's point.
"Lord Mordechai is infamous for giving you just a hint of the truth you're looking for, but then he'll inflate the story with nonsense, misinformation or just plain lies in order to make him look more powerful or more influential than he really is." Parker smiled and rose from the table. "Once, he told me that he'd actually seen the Emperor dress, just to make it more believable that he'd seen the Emperor show the first signs of the Centauri version of chicken pox.”
“Oh? Why is that so unbelievable?” David looked puzzled. "As far as I know the pox is quite common among the Centauri, and has been ever since we made contact with them. It's just as harmless there as it is here though."
“Didn’t you know? I thought it was common knowledge." Parker smiled. "The Emperor never undresses except in his most private sanctum, somewhere a low-ranking Lord such as Mordechai would never be able to enter especially if the Emperor was in any way ill.”
"Yes, so?"
"Plus, the first signs of the pox on a Centauri is that their hair starts falling off, which is the real reason why they actually fear the disease." David started to leave the break area. "Trust me, if the Centauri Emperor had lost his hair we'd have heard about it from a lot more sources than just him. It'd be the greatest story of the year to anyone and everyone in the entire Centauri court."

Parker left before David had any chance to reply. He was a capable administrator, but how a man so gullible had ever gotten selected for intelligence duty was beyond Parker's wildest imaginations. As he got back to his office he scratched his head and looked around for a specific crystal in the large pile on his desk, hoping it was there so he wouldn't have to search through the numerous and equally large piles in the rest of the room.
"Now, where did I put that image enhancement software? I know it should be here somewhere..."

[Zcenicx]

"He'd always wanted to try building a Dyson sphere and who actually cared about two small and underdeveloped moons where the most advanced life form was a four inch long and quite poisonous lizard?"


Chapter 4


SIRIUS III
ELYSIUM SETTLEMENT
SEPTEMBER 9TH, 2243


The large Danube-class runabout hovered silently above him while it slowly slid the heavy metal alloy girder hanging below it in its tractor beam, visibly in thin air, into place. It was hard to look directly at the craft as there were two bright spots directly to the side of it, actually the twin main stars of the solar system, and each one was an order of magnitude brighter than the sun would be as seen on Earth although the white dwarf companion was visibly smaller than the main star. Even so Ha'sra had to constantly keep an eye on the slowly moving girder to make sure it was still secured as the slightest mistake and it could easily kill every single worker in the area.

No such mistakes had happened so far, and almost immediately upon the metal beam reaching its designated target several people surrounded it and using hand-held plasma torches started welding it in place to the rest of the structure. They had to hurry, because yet another girder had already appeared out of thin air right where this one had been just a minute ago, and the shuttle was already repositioning to pick it up.

Work was actually proceeding much quicker than planned, and while construction on this building had started only three hours ago the substructure and foundation were already close to complete. Ha'sra expected his team to be finished with this building within the next half hour or so, he would be very displeased if they weren't, and then they'd take a quick break before starting construction on the building next door. By the end of the day the three teams working in his area would have built three complete buildings if everything worked out according to plan, and considering how far ahead of schedule they were they'd probably be able to have the fourth building well under way before they stopped for the night.

Even though he kept barking to his crew to keep up the pace, not slow down or slack off, Ha'sra was actually quite proud of the pace they were holding even if he'd never voluntarily admit it. It had taken a few days to get the details all worked out, but now they had a system set up and so far there hadn't been any serious incidents. There had of course been some smaller accidents, most due to their lack of experienced construction workers, but none had been severe and small accidents were impossible to avoid in major construction such as this even if the people involved would've been experienced professionals.

A few people had fallen, sure, but safety gear such as anti-gravity harnesses and emergency teleporters had kept them away from any serious harm. The few injuries that actually had occurred were mostly sprains and torn muscles, most of which could be attributed to overexertion, bad training and poor technique. Something that'd reduced in frequency as work progressed though he kept telling anyone that'd listen that it was all a problem with the weaker Human physique, and that Tellarite workers would do better. The fact that no-one really listened didn't stop him from repeating it either. The only permanent injury sustained had been as a faulty plasma torch overloaded and practically vaporized the welder's hand, but even he couldn't blame the welder for what had obviously been equipment failure.

He took a quick look at the other two buildings up the street, mostly to check that the other two teams still kept up with his. The closest building was the last one his team had worked on, and his was the one requiring the highest amount of manual labor since they were the ones that built the foundations and substructures that were required before the other teams could even start working.

The next team used transport enhancers and micro-transmitters to precision-guide the transporters on the Gabriel and Michael, a slow but necessary process in order to get the pre-fabricated modules which made up the walls, floors and roof in exactly the right place. The slightest mistake would mean the module would have to be disassembled and reassembled by hand, something that had only happened once so far. By now most of them were already in place and locked together, and they were almost ready for their next building.

The third team (which was also the largest and most time intensive of the three) took care of the civic connections such as plumbing, power systems, heating etcetera, as well as installing all the comforts of life such as replicators, computers and communications. Ha'sra called them the fluff team for short, and constantly teased their supervisor about the fact that this team couldn't keep up with the other two. The fact that they were the only ones actually keeping on schedule didn't even enter into his thought process.

The Tellarite engineer had supervised colonization and reconstruction efforts before, but he'd never witnessed much less actually been involved in one such as this. There were five groups just like this three-team group at work in this settlement alone. Two of these five, his and another led by a Vulcan planetologist, were working on residential buildings while two worked on civic, industrial, military and governmental installations. The last, which was the largest and by far the most resource intensive, worked on industrial installations and facilities both planet-side and in orbit.

Technically there was a sixth team as well, but partially because they were entirely devoted to the construction of antimatter and fusion reactors and partially because they were entirely based in the construction bay of the Michael and almost never left orbit except for the few minutes the reactor installations took, they didn't really count.

He though back for a second. While the captains were still arguing about how to best plan and colonize the planet the engineers had already devised a plan and were already executing it on the direct authority of the admiral. He wasn't proud of bypassing the chain of command, but it'd worked, hadn't it? The admiral had only had a few requirements on the design of the settlement, and most of them had been worked in without any problems. The only real difference was that they'd had to create another team of botanists and ecologists which would go over the entire settlement once construction was finished, and that they had to dig a bit further down before they actually started laying the foundations.

They had moved the Archangels and Sovereigns into low geostationary orbits, almost low enough for the ships to start skipping on the planet's atmosphere, directly above the settlement and they had then effectively taken complete control of these ships almost turning them into sub-orbital modular factories rather than spacecraft. Raw materials were transported up, while structure parts were transported down, all in a rapid and thus far never-ending cycle.

He smiled as he thought about it. The warp core of the Gabriel, his own ship and arguably the largest and most advanced antimatter reactor in the fleet, was working under the same strain right now sitting still as it would during sustained warp 7 flight, and all the auxiliary fusion reactors were working at or above capacity as well. There was barely enough power left to stay in, much less leave, orbit.

There were other things differentiating this colonization from anything else yet tried or done as well. There were no older people, and barely any children. That was something that most of them unconsciously knew would become a problem later on, and also a probable cause for the extremely high amount of marriages there had been in the past month.

Ha'sra had never been very interested in females or for that sake procreation, but instead became more and more irritated as an ever-increasing amount of crewmen requested leave from the construction work to attend a friend's marriage, or even their own, as nature took its course and the crews and even the displaced refugees started pairing off. The latter just irritated Ha'sra more, as that usually meant at least two days of absence instead of just a few hours. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter, if he didn't approve it one of the captains or the admiral would, and since they were the ones performing the actual wedding ceremonies it wasn't too hard to get a hold of them either.

All in all, his crew disliked that part of the Tellarite engineer's personality, more so even than they disliked most of the other parts, but Ha'sra was just as used to people disliking him as any other normal self-aware Tellarite would be. He wasn't dumb, he realized procreation would be necessary for the long-term survival of their different species and that marriage was the logical first step for many of the species present, but he still found it damn annoying. Couldn't they wait to indulge their sex drive until they were finished doing something more productive, like working?

While most of the smaller ships were deployed on patrol, more a formality than a necessity in his opinion, the Nova-class ships were out on assignment mapping what areas they had failed to get intelligence about in other ways and observing the different races they now shared a universe with. They had been ordered to avoid contact if at all possible, and to stay clear of any ships they encountered. For the first time in Starfleet history there'd been a general order actually forbidding any Federation ship to respond to a distress call on pain of court martial. Ha'sra thought it was about time, but even under these circumstances he knew it was quite unlike normal Human behavior. He found himself liking that admiral of theirs more and more.

The other large ships like the Excelsiors, Galaxies and Nebulas made up a bucket line that stretched from the planet to the other side of the solar system, gathering and transporting fuel and materials from the outer asteroid belt and gas giants as well as constructing several smaller but very advanced stations in orbit of the system's outer microstar in order to siphon the star's ample amounts of deuterium directly from the coronal atmosphere. Working as they were they were burning through their fuel supplies faster than they would in the heat of combat, and they weren't moving around enough for the ships' Bussard collectors to be of any more use than as hood ornaments.

The solar hydrogen siphoning stations had been an idea hatched by that geek Jameson, who'd according to him at least gotten the idea from some antique 2-dimensional entertainment device. Still, antique device or not the idea had a lot of merit and was actually both practical and feasible. They'd been forced to take apart a few shuttles and scavenge their multi-phasic shields to do it, but they had more than enough shuttles to spare and it was a sacrifice well worth it to get the more than ample amounts of fuel the engineers had calculated the stations would produce.

Ha'sra had tried to get his idea through instead of Jameson's, but had in the end been overruled as too resource intensive and not ethically possible as it'd probably destroy the entire biosphere on two of Sirius V's moons. It hadn't been an idea completely intended to succeed, but he'd always wanted to try building a Dyson sphere and who actually cared about two small and underdeveloped moons where the most advanced life form was a four inch long and quite poisonous lizard?

The presence of a stable white dwarf in the system had also merited even more construction plans, but it'd have to wait until they could free up the resources. They had no real need for neutronium yet, they'd first need to start thinking about shipyards or other orbital construction facilities and even then it'd be a very energy-intensive project just to be able to safely retrieve the super-dense material.

It had been quite hard to get the items on the different wish lists prioritized, a result of the project leaders being some of the best astrophysicists, particle physicists, warp field theorists, molecular engineers, quantum wave theorists, and the other assorted scientific titles that could give you the title of chief engineer in Starfleet. Everyone wanted to start building the roof of their new society before they even started on the foundation, and sometimes it was hard for them to understand that such basic things as living quarters had to be built long before other things such as laboratories, factories and so on were even considered. On a starship, you’d work the other way around, first building the mission systems, and then filling in the empty spaces with crew quarters and storage bays. At least it usually looked that way when you got on the ship after it was completed.

Still, it was a huge operation and with all but two of their starships involved in either the construction or resource gathering operations it was going incredibly fast. He doubted any colony had ever grown as fast as this one, or had even close to the same space-side support. But then again he also doubted it had ever been as necessary for any other colony the Federation had made. They'd already finished a few city blocks, but the starships were still overcrowded and while it was technically possible to transport most of the people from up there to the surface the infrastructure wasn't completed yet and there wasn't enough housing, enough power or enough replicators. They could reduce the load on the starships, but the people down here would be cold, hungry and wet. The list went on and so they still had to keep going.

They had initially planned to build enough housing and civic buildings to house and support some 65,000 people in this settlement during the first phase. This would be the new 'capital' city of the Sirius system. Other settlements, albeit quite a bit smaller ranging from 500 to 5,000 initial populations, would be spread out over most of the continent. The reasons varied between which locations would be suitable for farming, mining, industrial purposes or just the plain 'I want to live just there' factor that was so common among the other so called more civilized races.

Two larger settlements, first phase to house 10,000 people in each, were planned on the closest moon which could be clearly seen in the sky above, it took up almost a large chunk of the visible sky as it was much larger and much closer than as an example Earth’s moon was. That wasn't likely to change either as due to the very small size difference between them both the planet and the moon were tidally locked to each other and the blue and green moon was close enough to be clearly visible even during the day.

He blew his whistle, a small device of ancient human design that served no real purpose other than emitting a sharp noise that could be heard across the entire construction site, to indicate that this site was finished and to get ready to move on to the next. The structure was still nothing but plasticrete and high-strength steel alloy beams, but he already knew what it'd look like tomorrow.

All he had to do to remind himself was to look at the other houses which had already been finished. Rather pleasantly laid out two-floor houses with flat angled roofs, slightly curved walls, several unidirectional windows on each floor and a small garden around each. The gardens weren’t there yet, nor were the paved walkways and the parts of the bottom floor that would be below ground were still surrounded by a trench, but they'd be there as soon as there was time to lay them down and clean the sites up. Either way, Ha'sra didn't really care much about gardens or pavement as neither had any structural value and he refused to deal with what he considered fluff.

Just like the city, the different blocks and streets had been named after mythological places or people from the various Human cultures. Next stop, he thought to himself, 107 Achilles Street. Yet another residential building built to Human specs. Damn people were just as numerous as rabbits, and he had no illusions about their procreation rate either. Next thing he expected to have to build was a daycare center.

Ha’sra sighed as he realized they’d forgotten all about daycare centers or for that matter maternity wards when they planned the civic buildings. He reached for his communicator to do some well-deserved yelling at whoever was responsible for that specific oversight and have it corrected preferably before the only available lot was in an industrial zone.

[Zcenicx]

"The worst that could have happened was I missed by a few inches, and we both know that wouldn't have damaged anything of consequence."


GENEVA, EARTH
MIDNIGHT


Her name meant laughter in her people's own tongue. That was hardly a name appropriate for the kind of work she did so she’d changed it when she got recruited. Her new name roughly translated as poisonous spider, and quite appropriately its use in her language was ominous. It was something one of her kind associated with a coming unseen death and in general a word best used to describe an unpleasant and slow such as well.

Her handlers had always called her by this name. She had several other names, but this was the one she was deep inside, beneath all the lies and barriers. To her knowledge only two people were still alive that knew the truth, the whole terrifying truth. One was her current handler, the other was her father. She hadn't spoken to the latter for months, ever since he'd found out what she actually did for a living.

Even though she could easily be mistaken as human, she was not. To create this misconception she had undergone several, and some quite drastic, surgeries. Though the cosmetic surgery had been painful and invasive enough, she had been forced to take it one step further. Her cover wouldn't work if she was scanned and her internal organs looked scrambled, and even the least intelligent pathologist would be quite puzzled if he found some of the really interesting things in her body no human was ever born with. Things that a normal human being could not have. That might cause them to do a more detailed DNA-scan, and that would be a very bad thing indeed, as there was just no way of hiding that away.

She looked up from her observation post, it was time for action. She took out two devices from her infiltration suit. One was a small PDA with a display, its only real function was to detect the small magnetic field around a beating heart and display it on a map. It wasn’t even holographic. The other was a pair of normal-looking and trendy sunglasses that looked like any you could buy in just about any store, but in addition to protecting her eyes from ultraviolet radiation the built-in sensor equipment also allowed her to see unhindered in the dark and even to see otherwise invisible laser beams and infrared light sources.

Neither was the best her people could produce, but they would pass even a close inspection by someone who didn’t know exactly what to look for. She slid into upright position, and went closer to the nearest guard post. It was time to get to work.

She had read everything she’d been given as background on these humans. How they behaved, reacted, thought and lived. She’d read better reports but to be frank having only limited information on her target was quite a normal part of the job. She had an advantage there in her being telepathic. Knowing beforehand how another person expected you to react and how not to arouse suspicion was the very point of having good intelligence, but for a telepath that was easy. All she needed to do was just to look into the other person’s mind, and act accordingly.

Pity these humans didn’t seem to realize just how useful that could be. She’d been quite surprised when she'd gotten that information. The guard didn’t even react when she walked by, his eyes saw but his mind didn’t register her presence. A simple mental command meant he wouldn't see, wouldn't hear and wouldn't even think of reaching for his alarm.

This complex was not a worthy challenge to infiltrate and she almost, though she understood why, disliked the assignment. What’s the difficulty for a telepath to infiltrate a society of non-telepaths, even in a secure compound as this, if they don’t have telepaths guarding it? And the telepaths they did have were weak, poorly trained, and wore uniforms and clear markings identifying them as being just what they were.

The same chain of events repeated itself twice more, before she was inside the complex. She looked at her map and memorized; “Follow the corridor twenty steps, turn left, continue until I reach the checkpoint. Up the stairs two floors, follow the corridor. Objective is behind the second door to my right.”

The Earthdome facility was fairly impressive, decorated as it was with nice looking paintings and decorative wood paneled walls. Even the carpet on the floor looked new and tasteful. She’d been surprised, civic buildings weren’t usually this enameled in her experience, but these humans seemed to use art and decorations as a measure of overwhelming their visitors by showing them the power that resided in the center point of human society.

She kept her pace up as she followed her memorized path, but didn’t hurry. It was easier to avoid suspicion if she didn’t appear suspicious in the first place. Plus, if there were any more security cameras around she’d have to trust her fake appearance and trained casual style to hide her. In the dark it was hard enough to distinguish any facial features so no-one would know exactly who walked past, but if she’d been running past the cameras it would probably make the people watching them ask unnecessary questions.

She slowly climbed the stairs, taking her time to take in her surroundings. The heart of the opponent, their very headquarters, lay just before her. She had an idea of what to expect as both her heartbeat sensor and her own telepathic ability told her what was around her, but she could never be completely sure that was all there was. She'd been wrong before, and in her line of work you either learned quickly from your mistakes or suffered the consequences as you made the same one again.

Telepathy, just like a heartbeat sensor, couldn’t detect any kind mechanical objects. Cameras, traps or weapons were beyond her ability to detect until she could actually see them with her own eyes. Even so she’d been able to piece together a basic layout from the surface scans she'd made of the people that worked here when they left work earlier this evening. She still had her doubts, as no one ever knows everything, but it was the best she had. Plus, she'd never trust that she knew everything even if she did.

She came up on the oak paneled door that was her target, and slowly inserted a little plastic card into a slot on the wall. The PDA lit up a series of scrolling numbers, trying to break through the security system and replicate the room owner’s card number. She’d already stolen his PIN code from his mind earlier. A few seconds later she heard a soft click as the locking bolt was retracted, and she entered the room without making a sound.

It had to have been one of the least orderly rooms she’d seen so far. Even worse than her little brother’s back when she was a child. She made a frown as she saw the piles of papers and crystals lying on the desk, overflowing the shelves on the walls, and some even seemingly carelessly dropped on the floor. Didn’t anyone ever clean this place up? She sighed as she realized this could very well take all night.


STARFLEET COMMAND
ELYSIUM, SIRIUS III
SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2243


The office still had a particular scent. You can only smell this specific scent in something that hasn't been used yet, like a spacecraft that's still in dry-dock, or a new house no-one’s lived in yet. It should smell this way, West decided, at least for a while. The scent reminded him that this was a new home, a new life, albeit one with new problems.

He'd transferred himself and his flag staff down to the planet as soon as the new fleet command complex was finished, and what a complex it was. On the outside it was almost an exact replica of the Starfleet Command building in San Francisco discounting the fact that more than half the building was built inside a fairly large hill, while on the inside it reminded him more of the Utopia Planitia ground-based fleet complex on Mars. Large, spacious, and crammed full of among the best technology the Federation had access to.

However, why the engineers had planned the Command complex to accommodate just over two thousand people was something that was still beyond the Admiral. Right now, they didn't even have more than thirty people with the rank of captain, much less admirals, and none of them had a real staff. He'd logically taken the main office, the one which on Earth would be occupied by fleet admiral Jellico, commanding officer of the entire Federation Starfleet. He didn't think too much about it but that was effectively the same position as West was in now.

But while there may not be a huge difference in semantics, there was definitely a difference between a Starfleet totaling 32 ships, and a Starfleet of fourteen entire fleets plus support ships and thousands of independent ships. Just as there was quite a difference between a Federation with more than a hundred trillion people spread across more than a thousand star systems and a Federation of less than a hundred thousand people spread over a single planet and its moon.

"I don't know, Elisha. It just seems so... wrong." West had tried to avoid this as long as possible, but the captains had finally been able to get him in a corner.
"Shush. You know as well as I do that some things must change, and some things must remain the same. Administratively if you do the intelligent thing and get yourself a staff you'll have less work than before, and your responsibilities won't be much more than it is now." Captain Keyes looked more humored than annoyed.
"I know that, but..." He tried to push back.
"But, but, but. Buts won't get you out of this. There are things that need to be done, and according to regulations you need to accept this to even be allowed to do those."
"So you say it's just a formality?" West was astonished she'd even say something like that. Rank had always been a strict issue with the always formal captain Elisha Keyes. "That's quite something coming from you."
"No, but what I am trying to say is that you should treat it that way, Samuel." She smiled. "You're used to that, after all."
"Aw heck. You're just going to force this on me anyways sooner or later, no matter what I think about it, aren't you?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't be surprised if your next move would be to sneak into my room and change out the rank insignia on my uniform while I was sleeping."
West just surrendered inside. He wasn't going to be able to avoid this any longer. He'd managed to do so for two months now, but the chase was finally over. His only bright light was that he could finally stop worrying about getting stuck for hours with someone trying to convince him.
"You know me better than that. After all, I'm really good with a transporter."

She smiled, tapped her communicator twice, and the Admiral almost jumped as his insignia, just fractions of an inch away from his neck, were first teleported away, and then replaced.

"You... you... you..." The shock made it hard enough to breathe, not to mention speak. "Gods!"
"Oh, come on Samuel. You didn't honestly believe I was going to walk out of this office a loser?"
"You, you could have killed me!" He gasped. "The margin of error..."
"Bah, you worry too much" She smiled. "The worst that could have happened was I missed by a few inches, and we both know that wouldn't have damaged anything of consequence."
She flashed a smile to reinforce the joke, made a salute that was so sloppy it was more of a mockery than a formal goodbye, and turned to leave.

Left alone again, he looked in the mirror. He'd never expected nor wanted to ever get this high in the ranks. He'd have to check the historical records but he highly doubted that any other Commander in Chief of Starfleet Operations had started his career as an engineer. He could already feel the weight of the two new pips on either side of his neck, and even though captain Keyes was correct in that his actual responsibilities were mostly the same he now formally had the ability to make other changes, and make some that he'd already made official and permanent.

"Well then." He said silently to himself. "Let's get this circus on the road, and let's start with some payback."
He looked down at his desk. He'd been trying to avoid this rank change, but he'd realized it'd come sooner or later no matter what his own wishes were. After all, the captains didn't have too many admirals to choose from when it all came down to it, but now he could finally retaliate for the weeks of getting hounded about it. He pulled out an old ball pen from his desk and started signing some papers he'd prepared ahead of time. He'd enter them into the log later to make them official.

"So, they want to promote me, eh?"

[Zcenicx]

"Seriously, this human telepath organization took itself far too seriously when it required every single one of their own to dress up like members some kind of post-industrial freak show."


Chapter 5


ADMIRAL'S OFFICE, STARFLEET COMMAND
ELYSIUM, SIRIUS III
SEPTEMBER 14TH, 2243


"I see it, but I can barely believe it. You're really sure it would work?"
"Admiral, if I didn't believe that I wouldn't be bringing it to you, now would I?" T'Pell almost looked insulted. "In truth, I can guarantee it will."
"What would happen if you were scanned or got in a fight?"
"As you can see from the blueprints it's not exactly current design standard but she's still got a few innovative design specs to counter such an eventuality."

T'Pell pointed towards a few places of the pad to indicate just which he was talking about.

"The exterior would be constructed using what we would see as the most basic materials, but the inner hull would be shielded and reinforced with tritanium alloy just in case. The ion drive is in fact just a modified impulse reactor, but as you can see the ship does have a normal impulse manifold as well, though it's hidden beneath that hatch there."
"Hidden?"
"Yes. We'd have to blow away the exterior hull by use of explosive bolts here, here and here to use it, but it would work and make for a very effective getaway."
"I see." West nodded. "Ingenious."
"The ship lacks shields, but does have pre-Federation standard polarizing hull plating which we've managed to dial up the strength of quite a bit. It also has a warp drive though its effectiveness would be limited. It won’t be able to sustain more than Warp 7, and just over 7.75 in case of an emergency. That's a consequence of the reactor's limited power output. If we were to go for a modern reactor and warp drive, the energy signature would be so large it'd be impossible to hide."
"How do you hide it?"
"Simple, it's in a shielded location behind a quite modern energy dampening field. We don't expect anyone to see there's even a reactor in there, much less one producing that kind power. Plus, the fusion reactors can get us to warp if we need it, giving us more than enough time to power up the antimatter reactor core."
"Fusion-powered warp? That won't be fast."
"Quite right, but it’ll be fast enough to escape a confrontation and would only be used as a stop-gap until the main core comes online.” T’Pell sighed, and then smiled. “We haven't seen any of the native ships even reach fractional speeds, much less go full faster-than-light. That’s probably a consequence of their lack of inertial dampening and navigational deflectors, which we’ll have but those systems will be shielded from detection as well as able to be easily turned off."
"What about defenses?"
"We've put phase cannon turrets on it. Not even close to being the latest model, but even so they should still be quite effective against unshielded targets. It's also got two torpedo launchers, with the old photonic torpedoes."
"Weren't those phased out from active service more than two hundred years ago?"
"Yes, but they're fusion and not antimatter based, which was the main point in pulling their specs out of the archives and building them. They're a bit more powerful than the ones your NX-class used, but not much."
"I understand..."

West thought about T'Pell's proposition for a minute. A scout ship, built far below modern Starfleet design and technical specs. At about the size of a Norway-class destroyer it'd be far smaller than any of the native military ships they'd seen so far and the overall design would be closer to a small freighter or passenger liner. The entire point and what T'Pell hoped was that it'd look less than threatening to anyone that looked at it. To reinforce this illusion it would even have real cargo pods in the external hull and the design called for the ship to carry various non-perishable goods in these. The Andorian had even made a few suggestions as to exactly what in order to more easily pass for a visiting or wayward merchant.

He had no concerns about the more advanced technology in the ship being detected, as thus far no race they’d encountered had been using even the most basic form of subspace scanners and fooling an electromagnetic or particle-based scanner was easy enough. He doubted they’d even be able to see the true face of this Trojan horse using the far more advanced sensors of the Albion, though the Nova-class' much more detailed and multi-phase scans would no doubt be able to do so. Not much you can do when the sensors alone take up more space than the engineering deck, and can project more energy than the ship's combined weapons systems. A Nova’s sensors could even given enough time detect the quantum singularity powering a cloaked D’deridex, something that otherwise only a Starbase or Deep Space station had been able to do.

The ship would have a crew of thirty, all of them Andorian, and be commanded by T'Pell. The Andorians had according to T'Pell not only been chosen because they were his own people, but more specifically since they couldn't be mistaken as Human, their blue skin and antennae made that quite impossible. West had his doubts, but it helped the captain's case that he'd suggested that the entire ship would be programmed to use the Andorian language on the displays and in the core code. Considering how long it had taken the humans of his galaxy to decode that language, Andorian words have different meanings depending on the syntax has five possible syntaxes, no regular verbs and eight tenses, it should be near impossible for the natives. That is, unless they had their own version of the linguistic genius that was Hoshi Sato. But West doubted that, and if they did the odds of bumping into that one human was less than unlikely.

He still didn't like the idea, but it was worth a shot and T’Pell had made a good argument

"Very well, I’ll agree to approve your plan, on the condition that you put in a subspace locating beacon. I won't let you out in the galaxy on your own without being able to locate you in case of emergency." He rose from his chair and leaned over the desk to shake the Andorian captain's hand. "You have permission to build your ship. What will you need, captain?"
"Thank you, admiral, and I’ll need very little. A runabout and a pair of shuttles should provide us the warp core and fusion reactors. The rest of it we'll have to reverse-engineer from the Federation database. You know, no one's actually even tried to make a lot of this stuff in over two hundred years."
"Considering how long ago that equipment went out of service, I'm not surprised." West replied. "I'll tell the commander of Phi station to expect you."
"My thanks to you, admiral." The Andorian said with a sharp salute.

T'Pell was positively radiant as he turned and left. He had honestly expected to have to fight a lot harder, and a lot longer, to get his idea through but if there was one single good thing about their situation it was the immense reduction in the amount of red tape one had to mow through to get a good idea approved. Even so, he'd been certain enough of the meeting's outcome that he'd already sent the preliminary orders, and all he really had to do now was to send the confirmation.

"T'Pell to Tolar."
"Tolar here, go ahead captain." The reply from one of the few other high-ranked Andorians in the fleet came.
"Project Odyssey is a go, repeat, Odyssey is go."
"Confirmed. I’ll forward the orders."
“Good. T’Pell out.”


EARTHDOME
GENEVA, EARTH
21:15 HOURS


"Damn it!" She swore silently. She weighed the risk and took another glance around the corner behind her, but he was still there. She exhaled and softly, cautiously, touched his mind.

The man had power, that much was evident. Nowhere close to hers but still a lot compared to most of the other telepaths she'd encountered thus far. While he didn’t look too bad, his taste could definitely be better. Black uniform, black boots, black gloves. No jewelry except the badge indicating his status. Didn't he ever get bored looking in the mirror? Seriously, this human telepath organization took itself far too seriously when it required every single one of their own to dress up like members some kind of post-industrial freak show.

He was good too, especially for a human telepath. She'd almost stumbled right into him, and hard as it was to admit it was just pure dumb luck that had prevented that. She'd felt his presence way too late, but his boot had made a sound against the floor. Just a little noise, easily missed, but her expert senses had picked it up before he’d detected her presence. Even these poorly trained humans could sense her if she was close enough, and if he could see or hear her the telepathic ability didn’t really matter much anyways.

She knew she could easily take him out, but that there was no way she'd be able to cover it up for long. Bad thing about telepaths, they can't be tampered with as easily as a non-telepath, and another telepath could easily see the tampering even with just a surface scan.

She couldn't run either since he'd hear her. To make matters even worse, her way back was blocked by yet another of these black-dressed people. A less powerful one than this one, sure, but even so he’d announced his presence by softly singing some silly tune about a girl and a mountain. Ironic, it was due to most of her opposition being just as stupid as the man behind her that she'd been lulled into the false sense of security which had almost made her trip over the one in front. Hadn't the Psi-corps ever heard of quality control?

She looked around. The corridors here were a testament to the same excruciatingly bad taste and perfect beyond pedantic order as the uniforms its inhabitants wore. Every corridor looked exactly the same, every door looked the same, and even the sparse potted plants were exactly the same distance from the walls. The picture frames on the walls didn't contain landscapes or paintings either, they contained dogma; 'The corps is mother, the corps is father'. 'Obey'. 'Protect the family'. Even the most boring landscape picture would've been better suited to at least add some color to the otherwise almost sterile environment.

Heck, even the damned military was less meticulously pedantic than this. She knew; she’d already been inside the Earthforce headquarters. This building was all in all decorated as exactly as if someone had used a laser micrometer to measure the exact distance from roof and floor to the frames on the wall, and used the same laser meter to make sure the plants were all just exactly where they should. No taste, no imagination, or for that sake any soul whatsoever.

Suddenly, the silence was broken and she froze still, didn’t even breathe.

"Ah, there you are, Alfred."
"Sir?"
"Come, follow, I have some people in my office that would like to meet you."

She smiled. Finally the road ahead was clear. She knew exactly where to go, and exactly where her objective was. That fat bitch DeWalt had told her everything she needed to know, and even better, she didn't even realize it. She'd told her quite a bit she didn't want to know as well, and the memory of a few of those things was just sickening.

Before she'd arrived to Earth she'd never known what a blip was. Now she knew, and she knew what fate awaited them. The mere thought that humans, not to mention telepaths could do such things to each other made her beyond just angry. How could they treat anyone like that much less one of their own? She made a mental note to take that up with her handler in her report.

She stopped again, waiting for a presence to leave the corridor in front of her. This one was a lot less powerful than the previous, but the images she kept glancing from the untrained mind were distasteful to the point that she even started feeling nauseous. She was almost shocked when she realized it was just a child.

She'd been wrong earlier.

This wasn't fun at all, but it was both just and necessary. Damned necessary.

[Zcenicx]

"Outside, a bottle of Andorian ale began its final journey, not towards the more suitable destination of a fine crystal glass but rather towards the bow of the blocky ship."


EARTH INTELLIGENCE AGENCY HEADQUARTERS
EARTHDOME, GENEVA, EARTH
23:05 HOURS


Parker hadn't even noticed it before. He'd been too focused on his current actual assignment monitoring the Centauri and Narn communications to be able to put any of his time into researching the Pasadena Skies incident. The two large empires had once again had one of their regular small border skirmishes, but in the case of those two no matter how small the skirmish was it would still become yet another one that could possibly threaten the stability of the entire region and send shivers down the closer League races including the Drazi. It'd probably, hopefully, cool down in a week or so but both the Centauri and Narn governments were still shouting insults and rattling their sabers.

Whose fault it'd actually been, who had actually entered who's space first, those were questions not even asked, much less answered. No one really cared anymore. Parker even felt apathy at the idea of investigating it, as it was nothing new that either of the two hadn't done time and time again before, and the result of such an investigation wouldn't influence anything as neither would accept responsibility. Plus, they'd still repeat the process in a month or two either way no matter how much the Earth Alliance worked to prevent it.

Now, he couldn't for the life of him remember where he'd put his pet project crystals. He'd gone through his desk several times, looking at the contents of each and every one of the crystals he had in the drawers and boxes in his office, and even gone so far as to go through and organize the ones spread over the floor and shelves.

He'd found reports he'd forgotten he even had received, and material he'd been asked to process and then forgotten. Among the latter he'd found a very enticing video of a middle-aged senator and a very, very attractive young lady which didn't even remotely resemble his wife since twenty-something years. Material that in the wrong hands would mean a massive scandal that'd probably bring down half of Earth Gov was just lying on the floor of his office, and noone had actually cared. Oh well.

Still, what he was looking for simply wasn't there. He knew the crystals should be in his wall safe, but they weren't. He remembered taking them out, but he didn't remember putting them back in. But he always did. Or, at least, he used to. Not that the wall safe was a safe place, after all he'd forgotten the combination his first or second day and thus had never bothered to lock it, but why would someone steal those crystals when there were others like the one with the senator lying in the open? That one alone would be worth thousands of credits to any reporter in the world.

All he had left now was a single piece of paper, with a blurred image of the so-called spacecraft printed on it. It really didn't look like much and that's why he'd had it analyzed. An imaging expert he'd consulted had called it 'a bad smudge on a camera', but he'd made some progress to reconstruct the image on the original crystal... But where was it?!

Parker considered alerting security, it was standard procedure, but then it struck him that nothing else was missing, and who'd break into his office just to get his hands on that? When there were state secrets, grade A security reports, gold channel encryption data and even more of the same kind of material as the senator lying around as well, none of which were missing?

In fact, calling security would just make him look stupid since it'd prove just how much time he'd spent on this pet project, time he wasn't exactly allowed to spend on such trivial things. Not to mention how careless he'd been about storing all of these crystals, something any number of supervisors would happily use as an excuse to finally rid themselves of his sharp tongue. And when security realized he didn't even remember putting them back they'd just drop the case anyways since it wasn't anything important.

And then they'd fire Parker since he'd misplaced sensitive information. No, it wasn't worth it calling security. The thought, that this very specific insight wasn't his own, never even crossed his mind. No, he'd contact the man that had sent him the original crystal and ask if he had a copy. When he found the original he'd at worst have a spare. No big deal.

He'd later realize that he'd forgotten the guy's name.


SPACEDOCK PHI, OBSERVATION DECK.
GEOSTATIONARY ORBIT ABOVE SIRIUS III
OCTOBER 20TH, 2243


The spacedock facility wasn't much, that was of course according to Starfleet standards, but it was still impressive. It looked much like a ribcage a hundred meters wide and four hundred meters long, with worker drones scurrying about whatever was held firmly by the facility's mooring beams. It only had space enough for some three hundred workers, but when you added the autonomous drones that was more than enough to construct a simple vessel like this in less than six weeks from keel to christening.

T'Pell was however still astonished that the pink-skins had managed to construct the shipyard facility as fast as they had, not to mention that they had already all but completed his 'Project Odyssey'. To make matters even more impressive spacedock Phi was only one of two dozen such stations the pink-skins had planned to build and half of these were already completed. In less than three months! He found that he had nothing but reverence and awe towards the engineering ability and ingenuity of his Starfleet colleagues.

The first eight stations had been planned as simple docking facilities, with resupply, rearmament and light repair capabilities. Currently the Akiras were taking up five, Alpha through Epsilon, of these docks and in other words that meant that every single Akira, as most of their crews working on the construction projects down on the planet or here in orbit, were effectively mothballed with only mooring crews left on the ships. The three Excelsiors were planned to enter dock as well as soon as the Eta and Theta stations were completed.

The second batch of stations were planned to be defensible resourcing stations to allow orbital storage and refinement of raw resources and materials. Two of these were also supposed to be dedicated antimatter storage stations, unmanned but heavily shielded and defended. The last batch were pure construction yards like those at Utopia Planitia, two able to build each type of hull. The largest would be Type 4, the size of a Sovereign, with the scale going down to Type 1, capable of hull sizes comparative to the Defiant and Saber classes. Spacedock Phi, also known as Orbital 21, was a Type 2 shipyard and had been rushed to completion ahead of schedule to accommodate the construction of his ship, but that was also the reason the Excelsior docks were behind schedule.

His ship was the only one in construction so far, and there were still no plans to construct any new ships as far as he knew either. To him, building what would later become an entire shipyard complex was a waste of resources and time when there was every chance they'd never be used, but it was kind of a pink-skin trait. They built things, how did they put it, not because they actually needed them but so they had them in case they ever would. The Andorian captain didn't complain though, had they not he'd have to wait several more weeks for construction to be completed, while now it'd be finished probably sometime early tomorrow. It was still impressive that they had been able to construct his new ship no matter how small it truly was in just over six weeks.

The rapid progress of the construction of course had a lot to do with the simple materials used, and the overall lower quality work than was normal in Starfleet ships. After all, most of the methods and materials of construction in project Odyssey were two centuries old or in some cases even more. Give or take a few things, the computer systems, phasers and warp core couldn’t be more than perhaps fifty or so years old. Old enough to be easy to construct and assemble, and old enough that they didn't require the same level of precision in their assembly.

The main thing that was missing was a ship registry number and name. T'Pell already knew what he'd name the ship, but he was unsure whether he even wanted a number. He'd have to take that up with the admiral.

Still, even though it wasn't beautiful, fast or powerful he considered it his ticket out into space again. He was an explorer and a warrior, not a babysitter. Sitting here in orbit around their new home world, be it in one of the most powerful ships in this universe, was still not much more than babysitting empty space. They'd already made perfectly sure that no one else had even been close to, much less in the system for the last millennia. What use was there for patrols when a single subspace scanner would see far beyond the Oort?? And after all this ship was truly his. His idea, his construction, his people, his command. Not that the gunship he was leaving behind wasn't his, but when he'd taken command it'd already seen combat many times over in the hands of several other captains. This ship he'd be the very first to even enter.

"Captain?"
"Yes, lieutenant Shenar?"
"Phi Station report construction 98% complete. We can start bringing up the crew in preparation for the shakedown cruise which is scheduled for tomorrow at noon."
"Good. Inform commander Tolar, we should hurry."
"Sir, I must ask, why the outdated construction and technology? We'd be far more powerful and far more able to defend ourselves using a ship of more... current... design."
"A good question from an engineer, I suppose. The answer is simple. Passive stealth."
"Sir?"
"We don't want everyone to see what we're able to do, much less that we're far beyond them technologically."
"Ah. Deception." The engineer frowned as he didn't like the idea.
"No, Lieutenant. Not deception, denying a potential enemy information about us."
"Oh, I suppose that's all right then."
"Good. Now get to it, lieutenant. Tolar is waiting."
"Captain." Shenar slapped his boot heels together and made a salute, then left the observation deck.
"Tell Tolar to get the engraving done!" T'Pell shouted after Shenar just before the doors closed.

Yes. This ship would carry on the honorable history of Andoria even in this distant place.


OSLO
EARTH
11:00 PM


She'd been working on her relation with this senator for some time now. She didn't think much about it, she didn't love him but it was rather a business relation on her part. As for him, he was married, and old enough to be her father, but he didn't mind either.

The relationship had started only days after her insertion on Earth, more as a cover than a means of infiltration. Still, there were things he'd leak to her that could prove useful. He was only yet another useful tool in her inventory.

Since her near miss at the Psi-Corps headquarters she'd started to consolidate her position. She'd already been informed that her new mission was simple. Naturalize into the population, improve her position and stay undetected. She'd be kept in reserve for now. She couldn't prevent comparing herself to the sharp knife one kept in one's pocket, just in case.

She smiled and turned around in the bed, facing him. She didn't mind being kept in reserve. Plus, she might as well enjoy herself as long as she was here. Love or not, at least it wasn't boring.


STARFLEET COMMAND
ELYSIUM
OCTOBER 22ND, 2243


West had definitely had some doubts about the feasibility of constructing a ship to a code more than a hundred years old, but it had apparently worked out well enough thus far. There was nothing to say that the ship would stand up under pressure though, and the maiden voyage would be risky enough since he couldn't exactly send out any other ships in support if something went wrong.

"Well, T'Pell. I'm told by Phi station that your new ship is ready to be christened and put through its shakedown cruise."
"Yes, admiral, I've already ordered my crew to prepare for it. We’ll be ready when you are."
"What's your operational plan?"`
"A quick trial of the ion engines with the Valiant supporting in case something goes bad. Then a warp core test out to Sirius V orbit. If everything works, the next stop will be Alpha Centauri."
"Risky choice, considering that system's inhabited."
"Well, not really. The native civilizations in the actual system aren't advanced enough to be able to detect us even in orbit, and while Proxima is we'd still jump into the actual system close to Centaurus. We don't expect the native pink-skins to be able to detect us there as it’s almost a full fifth of a light-year away."
"Granted, but it's still a risky choice."
"Admiral, the entire mission is risky and with respect, it's the only way we'll be able to sneak up on one of those wormhole generators. We'll have to be able to time our entrance just right in order not to reveal our own faster-than-light technology."

The plan called for risk, the admiral was well aware of that. Still, as they needed to be close enough to reach the portal within just a few seconds at highest warp, T'Pell would need to get within a range of quite a bit less than a light hour away from it considering the slow speed of his warp engines. Much too close for comfort, and West only hoped it'd be far enough away to avoid detection.

"I know, T'Pell. I know." He made a soft sigh. "I don't have to like it though."
"I understand that, sir."
"You and your crew are ready for the christening ceremony?"
"Yes, sir, my crew's standing by on the Phi station observation deck."
"Then let's get to it, shall we captain?"
"Yes sir." T'Pell flashed a smile.
"West to Phi station." He said as he tapped his communicator. "Two to beam up."

The ship looked like something out of a history book, albeit not a Federation one. A blocky gray shape with crude lines and a rough surface, not even close to the fine curves and perfect finish of his old ship, but rather more like one of his own people's old spacecraft.

T'Pell took the small signaling device offered by the admiral.

"As I'm not a good public speaker, I'll try and keep this short. Today we start a new era in our lives. Today, we christen the first ship constructed at this our new home."

There was a round of applause as T'Pell pressed the button on the small device.
Outside, a bottle of Andorian ale began its final journey, not towards the more suitable destination of a fine crystal glass but rather towards the bow of the blocky ship.

"To honor the long standing military tradition the ship shall follow, I've requested and been granted permission to name her after one of the greatest heroes of my people."

There was more applause, especially from the assembled Andorians.

"Let it be known that from this moment on, what has earlier only been called 'Project Odyssey' is now a christened and commissioned Federation starship. Let it be known that her name shall ring throughout space as a vessel of honor. Let it be known, that her name shall be..."

He raised his hands to usher silence, and as the bottle slowly impacted the bow of the ship spreading its bluish content in free-floating blobs around it he continued.

"...the 'AFS Thy'lek Shran', after our very own Hravishran th'Zoarhi!"

The room literally exploded into applause. Not only had the ship received the name of a true Andorian folk hero, it had also received the designation of an Andorian fleet ship and not that of a Federation starship. They all knew why, but it was still cause for celebration.

T'Pell ushered silence again.

"The 'Shran' will be the Federation's envoy to the rest of the galaxy, our way of communicating and exploring without revealing ourselves to be what we are, a civilization belonging to another universe. While this means that we'll sail under the wrong flag and with false pretense, it's not because of our wish for deception but to avoid panic, confusion and aggression. Either of which would be more than detrimental to our continued peaceful existence."

With a final bow, he handed over the podium to the admiral again.

"Let us complete this commissioning ceremony with us all wishing our fellow comrades a safe journey, Godspeed and good luck as they venture into the unknown that awaits them." West concluded the ceremony.

With the entire room saluting them, the Andorians all made a sharp salute towards the admiral and turned to exit the room. Within minutes, they were aboard the 'Thy'lek Shran' and begun to warm up the engines.

West raised a hand to silence the room again, and then tapped his communicator.

"Admiral West to captain T'Pell."
"T'Pell here, admiral."
"The 'Shran' is hereby cleared to depart from Phi Station."
"Affirmative. Bringing main engines online, one fifth power, clear all moorings."

The rear of the bulky ship began to glow with a yellowish light as the ion engines were forced to push the ship out of its dock. It was a snug fit as the ship hardly conformed to standard Starfleet design, and it took a few seconds to clear the space dock’s rib-like structure without impacting it.

"Admiral, we have cleared the dock." T'Pell's voice echoed over the speakers. "We are commencing our shakedown cruise. We'll report in to Phi station as soon as we finish our tests."
"Confirmed, 'Shran', you are cleared to leave orbit. Good luck, T'Pell."
"Thank you, admiral. We'll see you, well, when we see you."

With that, the bulky ship pointed its bow towards open space and with a flash of light, she was gone. The admiral only hoped everything would go well. He'd already lost his fair share of friends, and he didn't want to lose yet another.

[Zcenicx]

Author's notes:

These four parts combine to form the introduction piece, before they make contact with any of the native races. Some things I decided to change had to start as early as here, and others I just polished up and expanded on. Again, people who remember the old version will notice drastic differences in several places.
You might have noticed I started posting a quote from the chapter before the part itself starts, hope you like the touch.

Please, as always I request reviews, especially from those of you that remember the original story but also from any new readers.
The main story is much the same, but even so there are so many and major changes in it I really like to know what you guys think about it now.
If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask them either.


Total change 2-5: 18,500 to 26,400 words
Total change so far: 26,700 to 39,100 words

Chapter 2
Progression: ~5450 to ~8375 words.
- Captain Kira's backstory is completely rewritten to match novel canon.
- Captain Keyes' background is better explained and her personality better suited to later chapters.
- The Nova missions are almost completely rewritten, hinting at some developments that won't happen for sometimes a few, sometimes even thirty or forty chapters.
- The entire chapter is expanded by ~3k words.

Chapter 3
Progression: ~4935 to ~7800 words.
- Duval is now correctly captain of the Independence rather than Discovery
- The entire conversation and background between West and Duval is now completely changed. She's a lot less a victim than she used to be, and reading between the lines this version is much better to account for their later relationship.
- All in all the narrative has been dramatically improved, especially in explaining the urgency of and the reasons for their choosing to settle on Sirius.
- The holodeck session also hints at even more of the future threads I've used, and a lot less of the ones I never adopted.
- Parker is a lot less wimpy than he used to be and the EIA conversation is in my own opinion a whole lot better.

Chapter 4
Progression: ~3475 to ~3950 to ~5040 words.
- I decided to change the names of every settlement in the Sirius system from this chapter on to be based on mythical places instead of the earlier standard version of "New" and then the name of a capital. It actually not only lets on to how the Starfleet personnel feels they're in an entirely different place when you hear the names, but also gives a lot more to the story in my opinion. Just wait 'til later chapters and you'll see what a simple name change can do for bylines.
- I rewrote a lot of the construction section to give a more Tellarite point of view on things, as well as making the Earth-based section darker as well.
- I changed numerous details to make another change I decided on in later chapters, and actually ended up with a better flow too.
- Both sections became a bit longer which didn't hurt the chapter either, even though it was still on the short side compared to most others.
- Moved a section from Chapter 5 to Chapter 4 to increase the chapter size.

Chapter 5
Progression: ~4680 to ~6080 to ~5170 words.
- Moved the entire first section back to chapter 4 in order to make the two chapters more equally sized.
One of the side effects of having written most of the story free-hand is that you end up with some inconsistencies even in chapters that follow each other, and that the grammar suffers sometimes. I think I finally got them all.
- I streamlined the character descriptions to better match how I portray them in later chapters as well, and hinted at some changes I've made later on as well.
- I also give a lot more detail and historical data (of which most is actually Star Trek canon) about the AFS Shran.


...and more, that I didn't bother writing down.