Taskforce 43 - Story Only

[Zcenicx]

Background


The Causes of the Romulan War


As the Dominion War started in 2372 Starfleet began to suffer massive losses in both ships and personnel. Due to the new development of dedicated military vessels that had started even before that, in preparation of a large Borg incursion, the effective military force of Starfleet increased dramatically as these ships were replaced with later and modernized models even though the real number of ships only increased slightly, or even decreased.

One such example can be made in the development of the new Archangel class, the new ship easily being twice the size of even the older Excelsior class and carrying the strike force equal to an entire taskforce in itself. Another can be made as the war saw massive casualties among the older ship classes that were still in service. With the fact that lost Excelsiors were replaced with the new Sovereign class ships, or that any older Constitution, Miranda or Ambassador class ships were replaced with the newer and far more potent Akira and Nebula classes, the average ship age got lower and lower as well, while the technological advantage of the Starfleet ships increased.

Even by the end of the Dominion War in late 2375, Starfleet still had not realized what effects these factors had on the overall balance of power of the Alpha Quadrant. People in charge were too focused on replacing a number than they were replacing a specific amount of torpedo launchers or phasers. This, again, constituted what effectively was a major build-up of military force.

In 2376 Bajor had joined the Federation and with the peace treaty between the Federation and the Dominion, extensive trade agreements were signed. With the wormhole now formally in Federation space and access to it being limited to the unaligned powers, relations with the other great power, the Romulans, worsened quickly.

In 2379, with the successful return of the USS Voyager from the Delta Quadrant, a more or less extensive (depending on ship age) refit was already being planned for more or less every single Starfleet vessel in service. The information gained from Captain Janeway and her crew about the Borg and other potential threats scared the Admiralty to the point where even mothballed ships not capable to be refitted were decommissioned, and new ships ordered from the shipyards to replace them. These replacements, however, weren’t mothballed but kept on active service.

After the Reman incident where the NCC-1701-E was severely damaged, the Admiralty once again ordered ship improvements, and after this time any active ships of the line were refitted to carry transphasic torpedoes along their standard load of quantums, rendering the old Photon torpedoes mostly obsolete for modern starship use. Most ships were also refitted with the Voyager’s deployable armor in addition to their ablative standard, as well as a reverse-engineered version of the Borg's adaptive and regenerative shields and the more powerful Type XV Phasers. The fact that this arguably constituted a severe breach of the temporal prime directive didn't seem to bother the Admiralty too much, as they viewed any technological edge over the Borg as a good thing.

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, though this time they were installed with the Type XV as a base.

Throughout the 2370s the Federation had encrypted the means of cloaking in the computers of all new starships so that it would be available to Federation vessel in cases of extreme need. Though the data could only be accessed with the access codes of an admiral. In 2380 the USS Enterprise-E was authorized by Admiral Kathryn Janeway to use this data to cloak the ship for a sneak attack on a Borg cube.

At the time the Federation was also reconsidering its relationship with the then shattered and unstable Romulan Empire and the restrictions of the Treaty of Algeron. With the Reman incident in recent history, the treaty was officially broken in 2381 as most modern ships were equipped with Phase Cloaks as they were refitted.

Other refits than the ones mentioned have happened in the last ten years as well. However, several are classified and not available at this time.

It can be argued that the members of the Admiralty were dumb to miss this fact, in reality they were just like any other Federation citizen. They didn't recognize the increased number of modern Explorer ships and heavier cruisers as a military force, since they weren't intended or meant to function as one.

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 almost entirely replaced the Ambassador and Challenger classes and had more military force than both of its predecessors combined had.

While the Klingon High Council didn't disapprove of their blood allies becoming more powerful, and the Cardassians and the Breen were too weak to be able to launch a formal protest, the Romulans did. In May of 2386 the Romulan Star Empire formally declared war on the Federation, citing the Federation's disregard for the Algeron treaty and their massive military buildup as reason.

A more realistic look at the reasons for the Romulan War is the fact that the Empire was shattered and in great turmoil ever since the Reman Incident. A war may very well have been the only way to once again unite the disputing factions and restore order to chaos. This view is compounded by the Romulans avoiding direct contact with larger Federation forces, instead focusing on targets near the Neutral Zone and only sending raiding parties into Federation space.

[Zcenicx]

Prologue


Admiral’s log, Stardate 63502.4.
Copy to Starfleet Command.

It has been a very, very long week. The constant attacks and increasing casualties I’ve been forced to endure the last few days are tiring, both mentally and physically. Today we 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 peace, except for what we could get out of the computer’s metallurgical analysis. She never even made it into Romulan space to deliver her message.

This war made no sense when it started, and it still makes little sense now. Two months and countless lives later the border hasn’t shifted, and no peace offer has been even discussed. No demands have been issued. The Romulans seem intent on destroying each and every one of us, and no one seems to know why. As my science officer so calmly put it, ‘the actions of the Romulans are illogical’.

Even so, they seem content to use their normal stealth and hit and run tactics rather than face us in open battle. We lost the Hera to a surprise attack while she was investigating the Okinawa wreckage for survivors and the computer logs. Two Warbirds decloaked just kilometers off her bow. They paid dearly for their deeds as the Venture and Independence were quick to engage, 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 Iovaq 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 nine children.

We completed our evacuation of the Starfleet personnel on Nelvana III. Most of the evacuated personnel have been assigned quarters on the Excelsiors and Galaxies. Thank the gods the Galaxy was constructed with evacuations in mind. We counted a total of 12,000 people, only twenty percent of the original population. The colony had extensive damage from being hit with disruptor weapons, and casualties were still lying in the street when our ground forces transported down.

At 2200 hours yesterday we managed to find and recall the science vessels Darwin and Icarus. They reached and joined the task force at 0100 hours today. This brings the total amount of ships in the taskforce 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 starship, much less a Galaxy, at this point it is my thought that anything is better than nothing, as long as it can shoot. I just hope the 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 shape. I’ve also transferred several veteran crewmen 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 weapons test, causing a hull breach on several levels. 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 battle group 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]

Chapter 1


USS ALBION


It’s funny how some things in life can be mistaken for others. Sounds are a good example. They can also trigger memories that one associates with them, like childhood memories, or the face of a loved one. The beeping of a communicator is not however one of them.

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

Tapping the annoying device and acknowledging, he began to straighten out his uniform. A good night’s sleep was a commodity few were blessed with these days; especially when you’re in command of a Federation battle group operating behind enemy lines. He barely remembered getting to his quarters, much less falling asleep, and he had quite apparently not changed before doing so. Not that it really mattered. He had always judged his job to be leading the battle group in combat, not to look pristine. That was what had given him the rank of Vice Admiral in the first place, and he still thought a sound tactical mind was more important than being perfectly shaved or wearing spotless uniforms. Not that he had much choice in the matter right now.

Either way, he knew the 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. Brothers have a tendency to do so, and that was part of why he had decided to place his flag on the Albion. In peacetime it was almost unheard of and Starfleet would probably recommend against it, but this was wartime and in war certain things are overlooked. The personal ship preference of a flag officer was one of these things, as long as it didn’t become a problem. And either way, both he and Henry always put duty first.

Exiting his quarters he was immediately saluted by the two visibly armed security officers. He would have preferred not to bother with the escort as he didn’t foresee any attempts on his life while onboard the flagship but, unlike ship preference, personal security was not one of the things Starfleet overlooked and especially not in wartime. The security officers filed in behind him and followed as he quickly made his way to the turbolift.

The bridge of a Sovereign class starship is large compared to most other ships, and at just after nine in the morning it’s usually bustling with personnel. Being at yellow alert didn’t increase or decrease the amount of people, but at least they didn’t move around as much as normal.

As the Admiral exited the turbolift he immediately gestured for the 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 tactical and engineering consoles were unmanned while not in combat. This was not the case now, and the Admiral hazily remembered the yellow alert condition being issued.

Well, that’d explain that.

He went towards the Captain’s chair in the center, and the somewhat too calm appearance of his younger brother.
“Captain, I hope you had a good reason to interrupt my beauty sleep.”
“Ah, Admiral, you’ve arrived. Good.” Captain Henry West looked a little unsettled, but if you didn't know him you never would’ve noticed. “We’re within sensor range of Starbase 10. The sensor returns are somewhat distressing. I’ve ordered the fleet to slow down; we’re currently traveling at warp 4 while we await your assessment of the situation.”
“‘Somewhat distressing’? You’re 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 uniforms. Both were just over six feet long, with much the same trained build and both had a fair skin tone, in no small part due to being in space most of their adult lives. There was a slight difference in haircut, as well as slightly more grey in the temples of the Admiral. They weren't twins, but Henry and Samuel West were very clearly brothers only few years apart. 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 distinguish one from the other.

They moved into the Captains ready room, one of the few places on the ship where the security officers actually gave the Admiral some privacy. Samuel quickly landed in the sofa, his brother taking a seat close by. The admiral went over to the replicator and ordered his ‘rough awakening drink’, a mixture of strong Klingon coffee, Arabian coffee from Earth and a good deal of single malt scotch.

“So. Tell me what you found out, Henry. It must be bad; otherwise you wouldn’t be this secretive.”
“I don’t know, and that’s what scares me, Sammy.” Finally letting go of his controlled emotions, the Captain looked quite nervous. “The sensor returns were somewhat garbled, but 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. No doubt because of Romulan jamming, but I can’t be sure. It could just be a faked sensor return, we know the Romulans have done that before.”
“True.” The Admiral took a sip of his coffee, and met his brother’s gaze. “But if not?”
“We’d estimate somewhere around a dozen, 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.”

“Damn. Damn those Romulans. 10 had a garrison of eight ships. I know, all of them older vessels that by all rights should be decommissioned by now, but...”
“Admiral… I know. As you know the Captain of the Crazy Horse is my brother-in-law… and the Crazy Horse was assigned to guard 10…”
“Don’t remind me, Henry.” West snapped. “He’s a good friend of mine too, you know.”
“I remember. You 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.
I’d keep the Excelsior in reserve due to her 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 Challenger still has some battle damage but nothing she can’t handle. A single phaser array is still malfunctioning according to the latest report. Oh – and I reassigned the Gallant to the second destroyer wing.”
“Hmm?” The Admiral was fine with his brother’s decision, but was interested in hearing why he’d place an Intrepid together with his fast attack wing.

“With the loss of the Crossbow last week the division wasn’t complete anyways, and Jack’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. Hiroshi is more experienced than Duvol, so I merited my decision on that.”
“That's fine with me." He thought about it for a moment "Let’s keep the two Novas in reserve as well. I haven’t served with their captains, and I’m not too comfortable risking two inexperienced crews when I don’t 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 trying to defend them. We’re better off keeping them in reserve. We'll most likely outnumber the raiding force using only capital ships, and not launching fighters will reduce the risk of friendly fire accidents.”
“Roger that, I'll relay that to the captains of the Akiras as well. No fighter launches. Let’s draw up a battle plan.”
“Good. Let’s tell the taskforce to increase to warp 9 while we work. We want to get there as soon as possible. Let’s just hope there’s still someone there to appreciate the rescue.”


SECTOR 23
FEDERATION SPACE


Lieutenant Commander Jack Davis was quite sure this was a really, really bad day. Not an hour ago he’d been in the mess hall of the Starbase eating his morning chow with his friends, and laying one on the dashing young ensign Mendez in engineering. Now he was in the middle of nowhere with a Peregrine-II Strike Fighter strapped to his back, most of his friends already dead, dodging flak and trying to pick off the disruptors on the closest Warbird before they caused 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 joy 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. He was too smart not to, no matter what the comms told him. While he didn’t allow the thought to influence his 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 disabled.

He had seen one; he thought it was the Roosevelt, loose both her warp nacelles in a barrage of flaring explosions while the other had received a gash across the saucer pylon that nearly separated it from the engineering hull as her shields had failed. There were probably survivors in there still, and both ships were still launching escape pods. With any luck they'd be able to escape the combat zone before the Romulans had finished with the defenses and started targeting the pods and wreckages. Romulans weren’t known to take prisoners, and they weren’t known for having mercy with survivors either.

He performed a high-G turn that took him over and almost scratching the paintjob of the nearest Warbird, firing wildly at one of the protruding disruptor mounts. Had it not exploded in a bright flash he would've probably impacted, instead his fighter came out the explosion, still 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.

They were badly outnumbered, and severely outgunned. The ships that had been stationed here had been older designs even to begin with, though most of them had been refitted as they had been taken out of mothballs during the Dominion war. Now, with only two Excelsiors, two Centaurs and a single Ambassador remaining, the situation was even worse. Not much to throw against the ten Warbirds with escorts that remained. If that’s how many they were, Jack had only seen ten so far but that didn’t mean they didn’t have more in reserve. 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.

The Starbase was an older design, and hadn't been upgraded since 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 at the station before they had turned to the starships. The main hangar doors had been severely damaged and were basically welded together by the heat of the disruptor blasts, no doubt in an attempt to stop additional fighters being deployed. Most of the phaser arrays had been destroyed, and to make matters worse they had scored a direct hit on one of the photon torpedo stores, taking out at least half the launchers along a chunk of the station that stretched several decks. As it was, Starbase 10 was a sitting duck with almost no means for defending itself.

Jack frowned as he dodged a green beam that came within inches of his left nacelle. This was already a bad day for him. Let's share it with these pointy-eared bastards.


USS ALBION
APPROACHING SECTOR 23


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

Captain West had reassumed his neutral 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 for his achievements during the Dominion War.

“Very well. Take us out of warp as close to the station as you can.” The Admiral looked at the main viewscreen as they closed in on their target. “Ensign, fleet-wide please."

As the communications link was established he continued.

"This is Admiral West. We’re going to drop out of warp and directly engage the Romulan forces that are attacking Starbase 10 and its defense force. Stay in formation 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. We’re in command of both the battle group and the battleship division”.
“Admiral to division commanders. Weapons are free, engage the enemy by division. Good luck and Godspeed. Captain, she’s all yours.”


SECTOR 23


It was a beautiful sight, but man couldn’t they have exited warp somewhere else?

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

Finally at least semi-safe, he allowed himself some breathing room, taking cover closely behind one of the new arrivals, an Akira that fired rapidly as she slowly approached the now evading Romulans. The Peregrine would have no problems keeping a cruiser between him and harm’s way even if the cruiser in question was pulling extreme maneuvers, but this one was only moving slowly and hardly evading at all.

He definitely thought he’d earned a short break with the cavalry arriving. Unlike most of his squadron he was still alive, even though he was almost out of energy for his phasers, and had already forgotten that the small craft was ever equipped with micro-photon torpedoes 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.

He took a good look at the ship that was covering him. In itself the Akira isn’t really a beautiful ship. It’s sleek, and has some curves, but it’s not designed to be good looking but instead designed to pack one heck of a punch. And that it does, with a vengeance. He almost kicked himself mentally for the apparent pun when the ship’s name became visible, the Avenger. As the Warbirds tried to encircle the cruiser position she was almost surrounded, but being surrounded didn’t prove to be that much of a problem for the Avenger.

The Akira class are famous not only for their ability to carry half a fighter wing, but also for having torpedo launchers mounted in all directions, and many more of them total than even the larger Sovereign has, giving it launch solutions across its entire circumference. Most if not all of these were firing near constantly, plus the fact that the Avenger wasn’t alone.

What had earlier been a one-sided battle had now turned into a slugging match between a dozen or so Warbirds, and what looked like closer to thirty Starfleet ships. Not the older, refitted 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 Sovereigns come about over the battlefield and plow straight through the Romulan battle line in formation, phasers firing in every direction there was a target to be found. Seeing even one of these massive ships was a rarity, seeing three of them at the same time and in battle formation was like a dream coming true for the tired fighter pilot.


USS ALBION


"Sir" the Comms officer kept her cool even as the ship was rocked by even more shield impacts. "The Temperance reports shields down to 22 percent, she's requesting permission to fall back and recharge her emitters."
"Approve that request, Ensign, and inform the captain of the Sherman."

The Admiral was fairly calm, even though the battle was raging on he was confident they'd win. They had numerical superiority as well as a measure of surprise. The Romulan D'deridex was an impressive ship, but even though they were an even match for a Starfleet cruiser they were outmatched three to one in this engagement. And the Admiral had more than cruisers. Outside, the fleet's three Defiant-class gunships flew by in front of the Albion, their pulse phaser cannons firing in unison, concentrating on the dorsal shields on one of the Warbirds. It didn't take many seconds until the shields buckled and the pulses hit the hull, creating wide breaches and striking through the decks. Samuel looked away as he saw the last pulses exit through the doomed ship's flank. He wondered how many had died on that ship alone.

Only two of the enemy remained now, he wondered why they didn't withdraw, why they didn't 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. It was disconcerting, Romulans were normally much more intelligent than this but now they acted more like Klingons, dying rather than acknowledging defeat.

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 full 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 headed through the busy space. The Romulans kept firing on the nearby Centaur but took no evasive action, as if they didn't even see the blue heralds of death approaching. They impacted close to each other on the starboard wing, shearing it off and leaving the Warbird tumbling in space as it gradually lost engine power.

"All torpedoes scored direct hits. She's incapacitated, Captain. Reading hull breaches across several decks and 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 Tactical clearly didn't think a damaged D'deridex would be much of an issue, and there was definitely some truth to that. A Galaxy should be able to handle one alone, being backed up by a Nebula and an Intrepid the outcome was given before the engagement even began. A bright flash on the main viewscreen prompted another 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 hail 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.


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 left him in charge of the search and rescue operations. Starbase 10 had been the taskforce's home base for the four weeks since its inception. Looking at the scarred structure now, that was hard to imagine.

The station was a standard Federation Starbase, the kind that was deployed all along the Romulan Neutral Zone back in the bad old days. When completely manned it was capable of supporting an entire fleet of starships, but now it had only been half-manned, a comment that sounded somewhat bad considering 'half manned' in this case meant 'only' a hundred thousand people or so. The combined crews of the entire taskforce barely reached fifteen thousand, but they didn't have the support personnel that any Starbase required.

From this far away the station almost looked undamaged to the untrained eye. Henry knew better, he had been forced to maneuver the Albion close to the station to cut the hangar doors open with his ventral phasers. The station was severely damaged, and he was quite astounded that as many people had survived. The top section was marked with carbon scoring in several locations, where the armor had stood up to the repeated disruptor blasts. In other areas holes could be found, some extending several hundred meters into the structure, and in rare occasions straight through to the other side - quite an achievement considering the distances and amount of armor and structure that was involved.

Still, the most disturbing part was the five hundred meter in diameter hole in the lower structure. A single hole, wide enough to fly his entire starship through. The quartermasters were already assessing the damage, and calculating the estimated repair times, but he already knew repairing the station was a lost cause. There was no chance this station could be feasibly repaired with a war going on. He silently let the quartermasters bicker on about material requirements, and focused on the more realistic problem of evacuating more than fifty thousand people.



SECTOR 23, FEDERATION SPACE
USS ALBION, CONFERENCE ROOM
JULY 3, 2386. 9:15 PM


Admiral’s log, Star date 63503.8.
Copy to Commander Starfleet Operations.

We finally have the results of the battle. The butcher's bill is staggering, yet one has to remember it could have been so much worse had we arrived later. As usual it's hard to get a clear picture of the Romulan losses. There's usually not a whole lot left when a Starfleet vessel has a core breach, but that's even more true about a Romulan ship. A Quantum Singularity doesn't leave much behind to be identified. We have confirmed nine vessels were destroyed by the task force, and sensor logs indicate another two were taken down by the stations defense force. The closest estimate is that they went down with all hands, but while there's no evidence to suggest otherwise it doesn't mean it's true.

The crippled Excelsiors, the Roosevelt and the Potomac, had to be evacuated as their damage was too severe to be repaired in the field or to be towed to safety. Their hulls were simply too damaged. The Roosevelt lost both her warp nacelles and had several breaches along the port 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 by a disruptor blast. 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 taskforce's 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 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. 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. They have already been ordered to withdraw to the nearest secure Starbase for repairs. 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 was mortally wounded in the engagement. I met with her in sickbay shortly after the engagement ended, but she passed away shortly thereafter. Her wounds were too severe and she had lost too much blood. Captain Blake, the fleet liaison, was killed in the photon storage explosion. Most of the command and control staff did survive, as did a little more than half the personnel on the station. I have made a battlefield decision to abandon Starbase 10. All stores have been emptied and we have already begun evacuating all survivors. This is going to impact our combat ability as we won't be able to launch fighters or shuttles, the hangars being filled with evacuees. Luckily we haven't had to jettison our stores yet, though I keep that option open if necessary.

As soon as we're finished here we'll take an indirect path back to fourth fleet headquarters at Starbase 718, mainly in an attempt to avoid further engagements. 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 15,000 crew, 5,000 marines and over 70,000 evacuated personnel.

Computer, end log.


EN ROUTE TO STARBASE 718, FEDERATION SPACE
USS ATLANTIS, NCC-67781, COMMAND BRIDGE
JULY 4, 2386. 6:00 AM


Personal Log, Commander Seth Williams. Stardate 63504.8.

There's much to be said about this posting, but there's never a dull moment. Lately, that's been true even for the night shift. An Akira class heavy cruiser is a fine piece of warship, but it was never designed to handle large amounts of evacuees. With the amounts we've been asked to carry lately I'm surprised we haven't been forced to jettison some of the Peregrines just to get some free space in the hangar bay. Of course, the Admiral specifically ordered us not to.

Doing so would free up enough space to add enough space to house another thousand or so evacuees, but it would drastically reduce our capacity and force us to re-supply 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, though I wouldn't recommend doing so for any extended period of time. Life support is having enough problems keeping up as it is without cramming the corridors and Jeffrey's tubes full of semi-panicked women and children.

This is the first officer of the USS Atlantis. We're currently traveling towards Starbase 417 at warp 6, holding a standard wedge formation with the Venture as lead.

End log.

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

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

"Report."
"Commander, I can't make heads or tails of this. We're supposed to be moving at warp 6, but according to the sensors we haven't moved at all for at least the last ten minutes. Astrometric sensors seem to be malfunctioning as well."
"That can't be right." The Commander made a quick mental calculation. "At warp 6 we should be moving at almost 400 times the speed of light, eleven light hours 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 strain. It's physically impossible."
"I know, sir, but..."
"Yes, I know, the sensors." He stood up straight. "Bridge to Engineering."
"Engineering. Go ahead Commander."
"What's up with the sensors?"


USS DARWIN, ASTROMETRICS LAB
TEN MINUTES LATER.


Though no human who saw him would call it that, T'Var had hurried to the Astrometrics lab. He had been roused a few minutes earlier by the Watch Officer who conveyed a request from the Admiral that he should report there as soon as convenient. Of course, convenience did not matter to T'Var, and he suspected the word had not been used by the Admiral either, but rather was an addition by the Watch Officer. He probably thought it would hurt the Vulcans feelings less. Illogical.

"T'Var to Albion."
"West here." The Admiral sounded tired. Considering the early time, T'Var wasn't surprised.
"Admiral, this is Lieutenant Commander T'Var, Science Officer on the Darwin."
"Commander. I assume you’re able to tell us what's happening?"
"Unfortunately, no. What I can tell you is that we seem to be, for lack of a better word, stuck in a subspace bubble. How this happened, or what end effects this may have, is unknown."
"Can you extrapolate on that 'stuck in a bubble' part?"
"I will try, Admiral. For an unknown reason the thirty-two ships in Taskforce 43 have been separated from normal space-time. This is indicated by our sensors not being able to track our location in either space or time." 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. "As you know, subspace does not conform to the normal laws of space and time. Truthfully, Admiral, I have no idea where, or for that sake when, we will exit this bubble."
"So we're lost in space?"
"And time, Admiral."
"Great. West out."

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

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


USS ALBION, CONFERENCE ROOM
12 AM STANDARD TIME


Admiral West looked upon the people that were seated along the conference table. Each and every one of them looked just as tired as he did, yet he saw something that they all tried to hide. Fear. Not the calculated fear that one could expect from someone who at least knows what they’re up against but a colder, more sinister fear that creeps up along your back as you’re pulled into a situation you have no control over.

Personally he thought their current situation was much like being trapped in a sinking ship. Sooner or later you’ll drown, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Someone may come and rescue you, or they won’t. You won’t know until you’re either dead or rescued. The Admiral kept calm however, and did his best to convey that feeling to his subordinates.

“Well people, we’ve been in here for six hours now. What new information do we have now?”
“Admiral, I’m sorry to report there isn’t much more news on that front.” The grey-haired Commander Suvok, Science Officer on the Albion, was the first to speak. “We’ve managed to receive some signals from outside our bubble in space, but we’ve had problems trying 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.”
“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, we’re also passing through a number of alternate realities.”

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

“Well then.“ West tried to regain control of his expression. “Does anyone have any ideas? Anything at all would be appreciated at this point, no matter how insane.”
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 young Ensign Andrews from Engineering. “Admiral, if I may, there might be a way, but I suspect you’d call it drastic.”
“I’m all ears, Ensign. Continue.”


USS ALBION
1 HOUR LATER


First there was a sensation of falling, and then there was real falling. As the ship stopped moving the Admiral thought he’d broken every single bone in his body. He had been unprepared for the fall, just having exited the ready room, and had tumbled down the entire length of the bridge finally hitting the forward bulkhead. Not exactly the most distinguished bridge entrance he’d ever made.

“REPORT!!” He said that much too sharply, though the evident pain in his voice softened it a bit.
“Sir, we’ve re-entered normal space again, minor damage to the outer hull. Sickbay reports only minor injuries, mostly bruises, abrasions and a few broken bones. Nothing serious.”
“What about the fleet?” If the Albion had experienced this as they exited the bubble, he was truly concerned about the smaller ships in the fleet.
“Reports coming in, sir, no ships report major damage. Atlantis suffered an overload of an EPS conduit, repair crews are working on it. Gabriel reports three crewmen injured, apparently they were pinned between a bulkhead and a Peregrine that got loose.” He made a short pause. “Sir, Lexington reports the only fatality. 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.”
The Admiral made a pained face. Suddenly it wasn’t as ridiculous anymore. The lower (or upper, depending on the configuration) part of an active nacelle pylon will easily reach temperatures of well over a thousand degrees, and they had been at warp for almost twelve hours now.

“Acknowledge the reports and make a note in the log. 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.”
Walking over to his brother, the Admiral looked down at the console. It took a few minutes before he could make sense of the information on it. “Okay.” He whistled silently as the realization dawned. “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“Samuel, we’re not even close.”
“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. The doctor would later tell him it was due to stress, injury and sleep deprivation.


USS ALBION, CAPTAINS QUARTERS
2 HOURS LATER


Captains log, Stardate 63508.0.

Or, well, it should be, and it’s what the ship’s computer says it is. It’s 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 Starbase 718 or for that sake the Romulan Neutral Zone. We exited close to Vulcan, or what at least should be Vulcan. The system’s still here, more or less in the right place, as is the planet.

But there’s no 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 intelligence. There’s plant life and a limited fauna on both Vulcan and one of her moons, but that’s about it. No artificial objects have been detected anywhere in the system, and I had both destroyer wings do extensive sweeps to make sure.

According to the astrometric sensors, the more correct date would be July 5th, 2243 – not July 5th, 2386. As my brother is still recuperating in sickbay, I’ve taken the liberty to send the two Nova class vessels to survey this reality, each with a Defiant acting as escort. Suvok and his colleagues in the fleet have already made it perfectly clear that we’re stuck here with no apparent way home. That being said, we need to know what we’re dealing with and what we can do. Standard procedure would dictate that we land the ships, establish a small colony somewhere and follow the prime directive. This is probably good and well dealing with a single starship, but it will prove hard to do with a fleet of ships and over ninety thousand people.

With this system as empty as it is, I’ve dispatched the Intrepids to make surveys of the astral bodies. If this system is anything like the Vulcan I know, there should be plenty of resources we could use if we decide to settle down. At the very least we’ll start needing to replenish our deuterium supplies fairly soon. The cruisers and explorers in the fleet were designed to operate for extended periods of time, but this is not true for the smaller vessels.

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.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 2


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


He was a scientist, he kept telling himself, not a soldier or an explorer. He wasn't interested in combat and that was the main reason he was Captain of a Nova, not a Steamrunner. He'd been nervous enough as he was assigned to do a long-range reconnaissance run of the Neutral Zone. Now, flying through space in an unknown universe, he had an almost constant nervous look as he walked among the crew. Of course, this was not exactly the best thing for 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. It was slowly sinking into their minds that this was real, that they weren't on a long mission but rather completely cut off from home. They were Starfleet, and tried to act accordingly, but he had seen several crewmen break down as the realization dawned. Husbands, wives, parents, children, family and friends. Gone, and possibly gone forever.

"Captain, approaching the Alpha Centauri system. Sensors ready." The Lieutenant in charge of the helm was a young man, not much more than a boy in Captain Deschamps eyes.
"Very well, bring us out of warp and take cover in the Oort cloud. Tell the Valiant to cloak and cover us." He made a mental note to bring that to Starfleet’s attention when, if, they got back. The Nova hadn't even been considered when they refitted the ships of the line with cloaks.
"Rig for silent running just in case, switch to reserve power and disengage the warp drive as we exit warp. Let inertia carry us in."
"Aye, sir, taking position just outside the outer Oort Cloud, ready for silent running."
"Sensors, begin a passive scan of the system. Let's see what we can find."

They had already passed through three systems between Vulcan and Earth, Andoria, Sirius and Babel. In their reality, each was heavily populated by several different species. In this, they looked much like Vulcan. Still Mishara-class planets, but void of intelligent life or any traces thereof. If anything could make Deschamps wonder, this would be it. In his reality Earth had taken to the stars in 2063, with first contact between Vulcan and Earth only days later. Vulcan had been the first planet they'd visited themselves, and by association they'd learned about the Andorians. Sirius had been an early colony, as had Babel, due to their relatively close distance from Earth.

How different could the Humans of this universe be, if they hadn't reached these systems yet? Or were they going to find the same thing on Earth as they had on Vulcan and Andoria, nothing? He hoped not. While the Vulcans had taken the shock of not existing as a species surprisingly well, the Andorians had at least 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 arrived in orbit of an Andorian colony, not an unsettled world."
Still, he had seen the pain in the crewman's face as they came upon his cold homeworld.

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, only to name a few, but at least 80 percent were Human. What kept them going right now was the Human hope and faith, something 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."
"What's your opinion, T'Var?"
"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."
"Great.” He silently weighed his options. “Make it so."
"Engaging auxiliary power, active sensors coming online. Stand by."
There was a slight increase in noise as the slow humming of the ship's secondary fusion reactors came back online.
"Initializing an active high-resolution scan 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 developed faster-than-light travel, there should be evidence here. Alpha Centauri was the closest star to Earth. The consequences of it being equally lifeless was staggering to Deschamps. He could almost feel the rest of the crew having the same thoughts.

He took a long, good look at the system as it appeared on the main viewscreen. The Alpha Centauri system was a required 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, the main Yellow star and the secondary Orange, as always locked in orbit around each other. In the gap between them he could see the slightly distant Red Dwarf star called Proxima, also locked in the gravity well of the binary system even though it was a full fifth of a light year away. All three stars had satellites, and he remembered five of these could support life, although three of them had been terraformed to M-class before his time.

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


USS VALIANT, COMMAND BRIDGE
PROXIMA III ORBIT
1 HOUR LATER


Deschamps and T'Var had beamed over to the Valiant and now stood on either side of the blue-skinned appearance of Captain T'Pell, looking at the visage before them.

"Captains" 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 them, all human. The colony seems well established; I'm reading well over a million inhabitants. Again, all human."
"If I didn't see it, I wouldn't believe it. They're huge! You could fit the Albion inside one of these twice over and still have room to spare, and I've done battle in less space than that!" T’Pell still looked shocked "I'm impressed, pink-skin."
"I know, I know. Calm down Captain, we have work to do."
"Aye. Full scan!"

In truth, Deschamps wasn't all that calm either, but he hid it better than his Andorian colleague. As he had heard the first sensor report he'd felt like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders... but he hadn't expected this. The ships (they had engines, so they had to be ships) were huge.

Stem to stern the scanners gave him a length dimension of 5,000 feet, and a displacement of a massive 32 million metric tonnes! This behemoth dwarfed even the 2,360 foot length of the Albion, and weighed in at more than ten times her mass.

He hadn't doubted for a second the ship was human. The twenty-foot high Latin letters spelling out 'EAS Lancelot' on the side was a good pointer.

What worried him more than anything else was the excessive amount of weapons systems they carried. They had counted 22 twin pulse cannons and another six beam weapon mounts on each of the larger vessels, plus a number of smaller energy weapons that seemed designed for point defense. Even though the weapons were plasma and laser based, with a calculated low yield by Federation standards, it was obviously a warship.

T’Pell had already told them that one of these would be easy prey for the Valiant, but had also with some respect said that several of these working together could become a problem. One by one the cannons were probably not capable of even denting the armor, much less the shields, of a Federation warship... but dozens? or hundreds? There were two dozen of these behemoths in orbit around the planet and about twice that number of smaller vessels, measuring in at 'only' 3,400 feet. The smallest ships he could see, barring shuttles, were around 1,500 feet long, or in other words, just slightly shorter than an Akira-class battlecruiser!

Deschamps had been proven correct; Proxima III was an established colony even in this universe. But there was no evidence these ships were actually capable of faster-than-light travel. It wasn't unusual for Federation planets to build Impulse ships, but not ones literally armed to the teeth. This was improbable in this case as well, as the ships could never have been constructed planet-side and then launched - ships of this size required an orbital shipyard and while there were ample amounts of artificial satellites, most armed and considerably larger than most communications satellites, there was no such shipyard facilities to be seen anywhere in the system.

It would seem that this universe's Humans were different than the ones from his universe, even discounting the time difference. At this time, relatively speaking, the Federation had just started to design the first of the Constitution class ships. It would be another fifteen years or so until the first ones left the shipyards at Utopia Planetia, another twenty until the Enterprise was officially commissioned.

The massive ship in front of him was about fifteen years old, judging by the sensors information on the materials, yet lacked such basic technology as artificial gravity, antimatter reactors or point-to-point transporters. Tactical sensors couldn’t give a definite answer, but they suspected the ships lacked defensive shields as well, but rather relied on an energy dampening field not entirely unlike the pre-Federation polarized hull plating. Technology the Federation had developed more than a hundred years ago, relatively speaking. The ship also appeared to be powered by four relatively large fusion reactors, with no trace of an antimatter reaction’s energy 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 use the tachyon beams we keep detecting as their basis for faster-than-light communications, but our receivers were never calibrated to handle tachyon-based signals. We're recording what we can, and hopefully your scientists can sort it out later, Captain. The Valiant wasn't designed for analyzing raw data."
"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 answer 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 even seen a trace of warp plasma here, much less a warp reactor. And why does a small colony like this have more defenses in peace time than Earth does in wartime, and why does the warships lack warp drives. 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. Stay at half impulse until we completely clear the gravity well, then engage warp 3."

This, he hoped, would allow them to completely avoid any unnecessary attention.

The short journey back out past the Oort Cloud took only a few minutes, and soon T'Var and Deschamps were back on board their own ship. The Science Officer hurried off as soon as they were beamed back, no doubt to try and analyze these humans’ tachyon communications.

Deschamps went to the bridge himself, bracing himself against the hail of questions he’d receive. Instead, there was silence, and only the helm officer said anything.
"Where to now, Captain Deschamps?"
"Where else? Earth."
“Sir…” The young man almost looked uncomfortable. “What did you find?”
“In truth, just more questions. But to answer your real question, yes, we did find humans.”

And with that single comment, the silence was broken.


USS ICARUS, ASTROMETRICS LAB
EMPTY SPACE


She had come over to the Icarus mostly because her own ship lacked the large console in front of her. A full-size Starfleet Astrometrics display is an impressive piece of technology, capable of mapping more than half the galaxy at the same time. Only a few ships were deemed worthy to receive this fairly new system, as it had been brought back from the Delta Quadrant by the Voyager less than ten years ago and was still regarded as experimental. She hadn't seen one yet, more because she had never been very interested in navigation, but rather focused on other parts of starship operations, like blowing other ships up. In that regard, she was a perfect Captain for a fast attack ship like the Victory.

She wasn't addressed as Captain outside her own starship though, and she both appreciated and disliked that. She had been in command of the Victory for three years now, but the Bajoran Militia hadn't been completely integrated into Starfleet yet, even as they had been Federation members for almost ten years. During this time she had been forced to evade the promotion to General twice. A Colonel was formally the equivalent to a Starfleet Captain, and she didn't want a desk job.

Right now, she was in a state she didn't 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?"
"I don't understand this, sir. Every other star, planet and piece of space debris has been in the right place thus far, but there's just nothing here."
"You really sure we're in the right place?"
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but yes. Triangulating from the positions of the Cardassia and Regulon stars, and the Amleth nebula, we're holding position right where the Bajoran star is supposed to be. Even if we were off by as much as a light year, which I doubt, we’d be able to see it from here."
"What about the Celestial Temple and the prophets?"
"We passed right by where it is in our universe, Colonel. Close enough to trigger it, if it had been there."

As the Colonel backed away from the large console, Commander Jameson could understand her feelings. The Colonel had been stationed on Deep Space Nine for ten years of her career, and had advanced to become Captain of one of the Defiants as Bajor joined the Federation. Even discounting all that, she was also a deeply spiritual woman. Jameson didn't know what had hit her worse, that Bajor as a whole didn't even exist in this reality or that the Prophets, or wormhole aliens as Starfleet called them, didn't. Or perhaps it was the fact that Cardassia did exist while Bajor didn't.

Not that Cardassia even remotely looked like Cardassia anymore. It was one of the few planets they had actually found intelligent life on, but it seems nature thought differently in this universe. Instead of the more reptilian 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 gotten some background information.

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 composed of some thirty member races, spread over a rough 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 Cardassians, He could only guess that these Vree look nothing like Denobulans either.

"Are you all right, Colonel?"
"I… All right? No, I really don't think I am, Commander."
"If you want, I'll arrange transport back to the Victory. Perhaps your doctor has something to help you relax."
"Thank you, Commander. I'll be fine though."

She took a look at the monitor again. She had seen this star chart before, but now the star names she were 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, but be completely different.

She noticed Bajor wasn't the only star that was marked in a dull dark red. 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?"
He looked up, apparently startled at the question.
"What?"
"Right there, follow a line straight east from Syrma."
"Oh, sorry Colonel, I was thinking about something else. Well, it's not missing per se, but it's not a star anymore."
"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 of the race that controlled black holes, was turned into a black hole."
"Guess we can discount any chance of the Romulans being in this reality then."
"Already done, Colonel, already done."

Suddenly, she felt a whole lot better.


USS BELLEROPHON, SCIENCE LAB 2
VULCAN SYSTEM


The Bellerophon had been tasked with the rather arduous job of surveying the inner system, the planets between the twin stars and Vulcan itself, while the Gallant surveyed the gas giants and moons in the outer system. It had taken several days, but that was mostly because Fleet didn’t trust the records they had on the system, but wanted every detail reexamined.

Even so, Captain Keyes didn't pay too much attention to her Science Officer. The young man had only just been transferred to the Bellerophon, a young Trill male who in her opinion might very well be intelligent enough, but had much too high thoughts of himself. Plus, he talked too much. Two traits one never likes in a man, much less a Trill. He proclaimed himself one of those unfortunates who, despite not lacking in skill, never got selected to serve on a ship of their stature.

As if a Nova or a Peragus-class research station would be better than an Intrepid. Keyes was a good friend both Vice Admirals West and Janeway, and they had been granted their first commands at roughly the same time. Janeway had been assigned the Voyager, West took over the Galaxy after the death of her Captain in the Dominion War, and Keyes got the Helios, a Centaur class cruiser.

When the Helios was decommissioned in 2380, and Admiral Ross reassigned to Starfleet Headquarters, she had been transferred with most of her staff to his old flagship, the Bellerophon. As the previous command ship of the Fifth Fleet she had been one of the first Intrepids to be fully 'Voyager-refitted'. She felt proud to serve on a ship of the same class as the legendary ship, though she had initially felt somewhat envious that the Voyager itself had been handed over to Janeway's former First Officer, now Captain, Chakotay after a slight refit and extensive scientific research had been performed on the returning vessel.

The fact that Keyes was the only one in the original trio not yet promoted to Admiral didn’t bother her either; she was happy where she was. And, unlike most of her crew, she rather liked this chance to explore a new reality. She had lived on starships her whole life, with few friends and no family left at home. She didn’t really mind getting away from the fighting either. She’d seen more than her fair share of death already.

The report had been fairly standard, though the fascination of scanning a completely unpopulated Vulcan system had been dampened by the fact that it was just that, unpopulated. Ironically, the Vulcans seemed to enjoy (as much as a Vulcan can enjoy something) studying their home planet as it would have looked had they never evolved.

"To conclude, ma'am, the system registers much like it would in our reality. The resources are much like the ones we have on record, but in higher amounts. This is, of course, due to the fact that there’s been no one around that has been using them."
"Noted. Is there anything else?"
"Ma'am, if we 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 civilization did develop here." He frowned. "Personally I'd advice against it and recommend we await the return of the Darwin with their scans of the Sirius system first."
"Why?"

Darl made an uncomfortable grin and pointed out the window at the red globe that hung silent in space.

"Have you ever been on Vulcan, Captain? The color isn’t just for show you know. It's mostly savannah and desert, and the dust storms there can rip the flesh from your bones." Lieutenant Darl glanced at the Security Officer "Our pointy-eared friends may enjoy it, but it's really not all that hospitable to a Trill." he added as in passing "Or a human. No offense, Davok."
"None taken."
"I'll bring that up with Admiral West tomorrow, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

Elisha wasn't surprised with the conclusion. Darl was right, Vulcan was inhospitable. Still, they may not have much of a choice. She made sure she had the survey reports copied to her pad before leaving the lab herself.


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


Even at maximum magnification the blue planet only took up half the viewscreen. Home, but not home. He suddenly felt very, very homesick. Different, maybe, but it was still earth. He could see the North and South American continents clearly, with the western tip of Africa hinting on the horizon.

They stayed at extreme range, only barely close enough for the sensors to maintain a high resolution. So far it was all good. They had registered more than a hundred military vessels in the system, as well as a large amount of what looked like defense satellites, but none had made any response to their incursion.

Yet.

"So this is Earth. Looks much the same, don't you think?"
"Yes, sir"
"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, this Sol system is mostly identical to the one you are familiar with. There are some differences, 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 atmosphere, as well as much lower reserves of several minerals. It seems much of this is due to an earlier form of energy production. I read several large energy signatures, most seem to conform to primitive nuclear fusion reactions."

He took a short pause and then continued.

“There’s also less radioactivity in the atmosphere 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 rather, had a less global 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, Mars, and a large space station orbiting the moon of Io. There's also an unknown structure near the Io station, which the computer can't designate. It seems to contain several super-heavy elements it doesn't recognize."
"Alright. Our mission is complete, Do a final scan, and let's get back and report this to the fleet."
"Aye, captain."

He paused, and then added something that got Deschamps thinking.

"Captain, I thought you should know. There are more than three hundred vessels in the Sol system as we speak. None of them seem to be warp capable, not even the ones in or close to the shipyards."
“Let’s get some good scans of the colonies, stations and the planets done. Have we managed to understand their transmissions yet?”
“Yes sir, but we’re still working on the encrypted communications.”
“Try to gather as much data as possible on this Earth, I want to be able to present a full picture to the Admiral when we get back. We leave in six hours, T'Var, make the best of it.”


USS ICARUS, COMMAND BRIDGE
CLOSE TO DENOBULA / DENIZALA


“Lieutenant, we’ve seen enough. Bring us back out of the system and take us back to Vulcan. 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 had been right, the Vree looked nothing like the Denobulans, and 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’. The results of their short visit in the system were still being processed, but he could already start on his report.

They had passed close to the Alkaid system, or Nacambari as it was called here, on his way to Denobula. It was populated by an apparent pre-warp civilization that by all indications had just entered the early industrial age, much like Earth in the mid-nineteenth century. There had been little to see on the planet itself, even though they had still made some scans. Science was always science, and studying emerging civilizations was always an interesting thing.

They hadn’t found much in the system however, except yet another of those massive apparatuses in orbit around one of the outer planetoids. There were also traces of colonization on said planetoid, though it wore the unmistakable scars of heavy orbital bombardment. What made people blink twice was that this bombardment was recent, no older than ten, maybe fifteen years.

It was hard to determine exactly as it looked like someone had thrown asteroids at the planet rather than using 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. The chances of two dozen doing it in rapid succession and across three thousand miles were less than zero.

After witnessing three of the League races he was forced to admit they had some kind of technology for interstellar travel, but until he found these Vree he had no evidence of it. His search for this proof had been completed in the Denizala system, when he had seen one of the large saucer shaped ships open what looked like a rift in space-time itself. The closest the computer came in analyzing it was an artificial wormhole, but even that only scored a 46 percent match of the energy signature.

He’d been star struck just staring at the swirling red portal as the ship entered it. He was almost disappointed when the portal close as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only a faint imprint that the sensors could barely detect as evidence that it had ever existed. To make matters worse he was forced to admit to the Colonel that neither he nor any of his crew had any idea what that vortex was, how it worked, or even how to replicate it. Well, at least he’d been able to get some solid sensor readings, and a recording of exactly what had happened from both his and the Victory’s points of view.

What was even more surprising was the fact that the Vree ship’s energy signature scored a 98% match to a Klingon anti-matter reactor, but still registered as warp-incapable. The sensors couldn’t identify any of the other components that were required for warp speed; most notable was the absence of any kind of warp nacelle assembly, or for that sake anything even closely resembling a navigational deflector.

They had also managed to deduce the function of the four parallel 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 emissions created one of these sinkholes in space.

He was lucky they had their warp drive hot and an alert helmsman, or they’d 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 tonnes of cargo. Quite something to see when you know your entire ship only weighs in at just over a hundred thousand tonnes in itself. Sure, Federation bulk transports were much larger than the relatively small Nova scout ship, but this ship dwarfed most of them as well.

He had been able to intercept some communications, most of them civilian but also a few diplomatic messages. These had allowed him 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 homeworld located on the first planet of the Theta Centauri system, a dead world 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 bordered area with the text ‘Earth Alliance’ attached.

Getting information on the Earth Alliance (whose discovery had significantly raised crew morale) and the Centauri Republic had been fairly easy, and Jameson considered those parts of the star map fairly correct. He was surprised at how few of the systems were colonized – he knew from his travels that the Sirius system had several planets that were far more hospitable than Vega II 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 been claimed. It made little sense, 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 claimed space, even as there was no evidence that the system had ever even been visited. 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.

Jameson rose from the Captains 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]

Chapter 3


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


The Admiral still felt weak, but at least he wasn't tired anymore. Not that he appreciated being stuck in sickbay or the constant attention by the ship’s doctors. He knew the overall situation well enough, as he still received continuous reports on the fleets condition, but he would much rather be on the bridge or in his office rather than here. Unfortunately, the irritating 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.

Now, two weeks later, the doctor finally had been forced to admit that he couldn't keep the Admiral in sickbay anymore. The constant excuses of 'observation', 'further testing' or 'monitored rest' had gotten old a week ago, and by now they were just yet more reasons why this energetic young man should be reassigned to waste disposal, or the even less enjoyable job cleaning the warp plasma conduits in the nacelles for a few weeks.

Well, Samuel had at least been granted his own alcove, separated from the rest of the sickbay, and that was something he had 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 did. 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.

Even though he had collapsed, there was nothing really wrong with him that needed this care. He'd had a couple of broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and a minor concussion from his trip across the Albion's bridge, but those injuries were all minor and had been repaired within an hour of him arriving in sickbay. He wasn't old, only being 48 years old, and to both his knowledge and according to the medical scans, he was in good shape and there was no permanent damage. Still, the doctors had decided to keep him within eyeshot. Some fragmented comments about command officers, stress, and being boneheaded.

Getting up, already having gathered the pads that were spread all across the alcove, he zipped close his uniform jacket and carefully checked that his rank insignia, brooches on both sides 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 he was all of a sudden the highest ranking Starfleet Officer in the Milky Way galaxy.

Still, he couldn't worry about that all the time, nor could he be too preoccupied with crew morale or the care of wounded. He was intelligent enough to know that if he started to dig into the smaller problems, he'd be overwhelmed. His job was the big problems and the big decisions, and to let the Captains take care of their own.

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 ship were about the size of his apartment back home in San Diego. They were more than enough to serve as both office and personal quarters, though not large enough to have more than two or three visitors at once. As this was only supposed to be a combat posting, the rooms were only sparsely decorated, and the only personal belongings he’d brought to the Albion were holo-pictures of his old friends on the Galaxy. Except for his brother he had no family of his own, never having had the time. It was at times like this he appreciated that, being one less reason to become depressed.

He'd immersed himself in the more detailed reports that had flooded his 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, until the beeping sound of the doorbell pierced the silence.

He straightened himself 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 rank insignia was correct, the person wearing it was not.

"Captain Duval, I wasn't expecting you. 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 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."
"Like you used to take it?"
"Please."

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

"So, tell me. What can Fleet do for the Independence, and what can I do for you?"

Samuel and Sheila had known each other for the better part of their respective careers. They'd both been assigned to the Galaxy, Sam as First Officer and Sheila as the ship's navigator, and when the captain had died 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 seven years that followed until the Galaxy was recalled for refit and they were both transferred.

Sheila went to the newly christened Independence, assigned to Deep Space 9 and their exploration of the Gamma Quadrant, while Samuel was promoted and assigned to Starfleet Operations on Starbase 1 (less formally known as Earth Spacedock), where he had overseen the construction and refits of the Norway and Saber class ships. Still, even though they'd been apart for more than five years they'd kept in touch as much as possible.

Enough for Samuel to realize what Sheila needed to talk about, even without her telling.

"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. "He was a good man, I'm sorry Sheila."

The man in question was Justin Blake, the Fleet liaison at Starbase 10. He’d just been an acquaintance of West's, but he was much more than that to Sheila, he was at least her boyfriends, and if you listened to the rumors, probably her fiancée since a few weeks back.

"I heard it was quick, he didn't have to suffer."

He nodded, Blake had been killed in the antimatter explosion that had resulted from a disruptor blast hitting one of the station's torpedo storage bays. "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. She didn't seem to, so finally he asked her;

"You wanted to see me about something else as well?"
She looked startled.
"Oh... yes, that's right. We have a slight problem with a few ships, the Independence among them. It's just a minor issue right now, but it may soon prove to be more than that."
West raised an eyebrow.
"Admiral, we're carrying over ninety thousand people in a fleet of ships designed to carry only a sixth of that number for any extended amount of time. I know the Albion doesn't feel the effects yet, but she's not a design standard Sovereign either. She was constructed to the Flagship parameters, which none of the other ships were."

He had to search his mind for the differences. He had studied the Sovereign design specs in detail just a few months ago. He found what he was searching for, and understood what Duval was trying to say.

"Damn it. That's going to be a problem."


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


Jameson was slightly stressed. He'd only just gotten back to the fleet and pretty much as soon as they had exited warp he'd been asked to transport over to the Albion for a full fleet command meeting. He wasn't that surprised considering what he'd been doing for the last two weeks, but the apparent hurry did surprise him. He'd expected to at least get an hour or two to wind down before he'd be debriefed.

Now, here he was on the fleet flagship. He'd already gotten lost twice, not something he was proud of but he'd never been on a Sovereign before. It felt even bigger from inside than you'd expect from the outside. 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, Colonel Kira.

At the head of the table he could see the forceful appearance of Admiral West. He'd only met the man in person twice before, and even though he looked tired he was still the commanding presence in the room. He didn't look irritated at Jameson's late arrival, but had a rather worried expression instead.

"Jameson! Good you could finally join us. Come in and take a seat, I was just about to start the meeting."

Jameson took a seat between Duval of the Independence and T’Pell of the Valiant, and put the pad he'd been carrying on the table in front of him.

"Ladies, gentlemen. Fellow Captains. We have some decisions to make, and our time's running out."

West sat down at the end of the table, his face still carried that worried look.

"We'll have to decide what course we're going to take from here on. As Captain Duval brought to my attention yesterday, we can't stay here in orbit inactive indefinitely. As you all know, most of our ships were never designed to carry refugees at all," he paused and his eyes met those of the destroyer and cruiser Captains, "and most of those who were, like the Galaxies and Nebulas, have later lost much of this ability in the subsequent combat refits. Even the Sovereign and Excelsior ships are experiencing problems with their environmental and life support system from the increased population and the situation is only worsening."

Except for the Admirals voice, the room was dead silent. They all knew this was true, but it's one thing to know, it's another thing entirely to get it verified.

“The only exception thus far is the Albion, as she was designed by flagship standards. She’s still the most powerful military vessel we have, but while the other Sovereigns were designed to carry a larger amount of resources, the Albion 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, she can theoretically carry more people than the other two combined before the life support systems fail.”

He paused, shifted a bit in his chair and turned his gaze towards the table.

"So, what we need to decide right now is where we can settle. 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, and while I both can, will and have ordered people to their deaths in battle, I'm not prepared to ask people to die 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. Judging by the other Captains' appearances, he was not alone in his situation. Only Duval and the younger brother West still looked (fairly) calm, and he concluded that the Admiral had already talked to the two of them in private prior to this meeting.

"Admiral" a Vulcan Captain Jameson didn't recognize had spoken. "As my home planet is right here, and evidently unpopulated, I would suggest that it is logical 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 interjected. "I might be Andorian, but these pink-skin vessels have taught me one thing, and that's to enjoy temperatures over freezing..."
"Logic would dictate..."
"Take your precious logic and..."

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

"Stop it, both of you!" She looked, and sounded angry. "You're behaving worse than two Ezalian dung beetles during mating season." Both of the arguing Captains looked quite insulted. She didn't even bother looking at them before she continued.

"Neither planet is a good option. Vulcan is a desert planet with dust storms, ion storms and not a whole lot of 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 cold."

"May I ask what would your suggestion be, Elisha?" Duval's softer voice was a refreshing change.
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 should move this discussion to one of the holodecks?"


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 other neither had a single piece of the puzzle.

"As you can see from this corrected star map, most of the universe is still in the right place, compared to our own, with only a few exceptions." Jameson continued his recital, as he saw Kira trying not to look at the red circle around an empty region of space.
"There are only five stars missing in the Alpha Quadrant, at least that's what we've been able to verify from the vantage points we've had. The most notable are Bajor and Romulus. The latter is a black hole system in this universe, the former just isn't there."

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

"We've tried to indicate what worlds are colonized and 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 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 some fifty member races. Unfortunately, neither of our expedition revealed any trace of the other Federation races besides Humans. In fact, there's less than one percent of the racial diversity we’d expect when compared to the Alpha Quadrant we're used to. Since most other homeworlds still exist here, we can only conclude that any intelligent life that did develop on these worlds was either destroyed long ago or never developed at all."

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

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

“As you know, we’ve traveled back in time, approximately 120 years. By our standards we’ve gone back to pretty much the time work on the second Enterprise, the Constitution class one, was started, actually let’s be precise. We arrived in this universe on the exact date a berth was reserved for her construction at Earth Spacedock. In our universe and timeline, her keel was laid only four days ago.”

This prompted a few reactions. There wasn’t a Starfleet officer alive who didn’t recognize that name.

“However, in this universe the starship technology seems quite different.”

They were suddenly standing in open space, with the massive hulk of the EAS Lancelot in front of them.

“This is an Earth-designed starship. From what we’ve been able to decipher she’s one of several hundred of her class, specifically called a Nova-class Destroyer. While she looks… impressive, to say the least… she’s actually quite primitive by even our standards at this relative time. While there are guns just about everywhere on 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 large fusion reactors and propelled by four ion particle drives, but they seem to lack shielding technology, inertial dampeners and, most surprisingly, artificial gravity.”

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

"There are other differences as well.” Jameson continued. “From monitoring several of the different races, we've deduced that while they have faster-than-light technology, it's not even close to resembling what we use. 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."

The Lancelot was replaced with the swirling vortex they'd witnessed in the Denobula system. "They seem to use some kind of spatial rift technology for interstellar travel rather than warp drives, and instead of subspace they use tachyons for communications 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. From the data gathered by the Darwin and the Icarus, we’ve selected these three systems-" The map appeared again. “-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 three stars and the indicated planets were all highlighted.
Alpha Canis Majoris, Sirius.
Eta Cassiopea, Terra Nova.
And finally, Trillius Prime, Trill.


USS GABRIEL, HANGAR DECK C
SIRIUS III POLAR ORBIT


Jack was still glad to have survived, no matter the current situation. Being alive in another dimension was better than being dead in his own. Plus, he had finally gotten the transfer he’d been requesting for the last three years, even though the reason for that was somewhat unfortunate.

The Gabriel 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. Warships. His father had always told him that home was where one’s heart was. And no matter how ironic or sad the circumstances were, Lieutenant Commander Jack Davis knew that he was home.

Takeoff and landing was a bit trickier than on Starbase 10, but he could live with that. He had just slightly more than five feet 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 Gabriel 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 foot of clearance, total, and no more.

Combat takeoffs were also something he’d been forced to practice, as the hangar was designed to allow two Peregrines and one Valkyrie to launch simultaneously. Timing and course had to be perfect, as in real combat they launched from all four hangars at the same time – with only a five second interval between the decks.

That meant the Gabriel would empty its hangars of fighters in just over four minutes. He’d been awestruck as he saw the CAP crew perform that maneuver as they entered the system, thirty six starfighters had launched in less than a minute. That took nerves of steel, and Jack couldn’t wait to do it for real.

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.

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.


FEDERATION SHUTTLECRAFT GREENWICH, PASSENGER LOUNGE
APPROACHING SIRIUS III


Admiral’s log, Stardate 63568.6. This will be my final entry with Federation Standard time stamp.

It didn’t take long for me and the fleet’s Captains to reach a decision. Of the three planets proposed, Sirius was the most logical choice. It was not just the relatively close position to Earth that tipped the scales, albeit I must admit it is a factor that weighed heavily. It’s also the richest system of the three in terms of the resources and the amounts we may need them in. Unless anything drastic happens, we should be self-sufficient here.

As of today, July 23 2386 by our time, July 23 2243 local time, at ten hundred hours, I have activated the temporal 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 ninety thousand people in this fleet, with additional facilities in orbit such as defense platforms, shipyard facilities and supply depots. I’ve also ordered the production of a gas mining complex orbiting the Sirius V gas giant.

Considering the violent history of this universe, as well as the obviously militaristic regimes in 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. If all goes well we shouldn’t have to use them in hostile action, but one never knows. And I’d rather keep that ace up my sleeve should we ever need it.

With our crews and evacuees 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 heading to the planet. We’ll break ground for the new settlement near where New Washington would be on the Sirius 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. 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.

It’s surprising how little time they anticipated it would take to get the first blocks finished, but I’m sure they plan on cheating. Or, more specifically, using the Archangel-class ships’ industrial replicators to construct modular structures which are then transported to the surface. 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 before they even got started on a quantum inversion plant.

The landing site is just now coming into range. 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 sloping hills. The entire area is covered in trees much resembling birch, elm and oak, a paradise of nature 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 sensor ghosts?” The older supervisor said it as a half-joke. “You do know it was probably just a joke among the Belters anyways. No need to waste more time on it.”
“I’m not as sure as you are, David. I managed to get a copy of the sensor logs from the ‘Pasadena Skies’, and they’re high end for a Belter heavy bulk freighter.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a hoax, Parker. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I know. But it looks real, and I have to follow my instincts. Something just tells me there’s more to this than the vivid imagination of a bored Belter. Even if it isn’t what it looks like. Which, I admit, is not all that believable.”

The focus of the small debate was the alleged sighting of a small and apparently unarmed passenger liner of 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, 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, almost ramming the small ship, the ship was supposed to have stretched, accelerated to faster-than-light speeds and vanished without another trace.

The general opinion about the story, both at Earth Force and here at the EIA was that it had the same fact content as one of those skin cream commercials 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 research junk like this.

“Ah, come on Parker. What they describe is impossible, plus, we’d know if anyone was even close to developing anything that looked like, or did, what that UFO was supposed to have done.”
“Faster-than-light travel is theoretically possible, David. We use tachyons on a daily basis, and they travel much faster than that. Now, getting a spacecraft, albeit a small one, to do the same is… well, not bloody likely, I admit that, but still I need to at least prove it a hoax.”
“Good luck.” He smiled widely, the sarcasm dripping from his teeth. “Happy ghost busting, Parker. I’m going to go check on our mutual friend on Centauri.”
“Heh, something tells me I have a better chance of getting a hint of truth out of this, than you out of young Mordechai. He is way too self-centered, and will gladly lie to your face if he believes it suits his purposes. Once, he told me that he had seen the Emperor dress!”
“Oh? Why is that so unbelievable?” David looked puzzled.
“Didn’t you know? I thought it was common knowledge. The Emperor never undresses.”

David didn’t know if Parker joked or not, so he just left.

“Finally, I thought he’d never leave…"
Parker scratched his head and looked around for a specific crystal in the small pile on his desk.
"Now, where did I put that image enhancement software…”

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 4


SIRIUS III
NEW PARIS SETTLEMENT


The large shuttlecraft hovered above him while it slowly slid the heavy girder hanging in its tractor beam, visibly in thin air, below it in place. It was hard to look at the craft, as on either side of it were the two bright spots that were the twin main stars of the solar system, each brighter than that of Earth's. Almost immediately upon the steel beam reaching its designated target several people surrounded it and started welding it to the rest of the structure. They had to hurry, because yet another girder had already appeared right where this one had been just a minute ago.

Work was proceeding quickly, construction on this building had started only three hours ago and the substructure and foundation were almost complete. Ha'sra expected, and would be very displeased if not, his team to be finished within the next half hour or so, 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.

Even though he kept barking to his crew to keep the pace up and not slow down or slack off, Ha'sra was proud of the pace they were holding. 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 been some smaller accidents, most due to their lack of experienced construction workers, but none had been severe. A few people had fallen, sure, but anti-gravity harnesses and emergency teleporters had kept them from harm. The few injuries that had occurred were mostly sprains and torn muscles, most 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.

He took a quick look at the other two buildings up street, mostly to check that the other two teams kept up with his. The closest building was the last one he'd worked on. His team was the one requiring the most manual labor, since they built the foundations and substructures that were required before the others could start working. The next team used transport enhancers, and micro transmitters to guide the transportation of pre-fabricated modules and by now the modules which made up the walls, floors and roof were mostly in place and locked together.

The third team (which was also the largest and most energy 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.

He’d 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 such as his three-team group at work in this settlement alone. Two of these five, his and another, were working on residential buildings while two worked on civic, military and governmental installations. The last, and both largest and 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 USS Michael and never left orbit, 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 authority of the Admiral. (He wasn't proud of bypassing the chain of command, but it'd worked, hadn't it?)

They had the Archangels and Sovereigns placed in low geostationary orbits, almost low enough to start skipping on the planet's atmosphere, above the settlement, and then they had taken complete control of these ships, almost turning them into sub-orbital modular factories rather than spacecraft.

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 Warp 9 flight, and all the auxiliary fusion reactors were working at 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 as well. There were no older people, and barely any children. That was something that most of them unconsciously knew would be a problem, 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 either females or procreation, but instead became irritated as crewmen requested leave from the construction work to attend a friend's marriage, or even their own. The latter just irritated Ha'sra more, as that usually meant at least two days absence instead of just a few hours.

All in all, his crew disliked that part of his personality (more than they disliked most of the other parts) but Ha'sra was used to people disliking him. Just like any other normal self-aware Tellarite. He wasn't dumb though, he realized procreation would be necessary for the survival of their different species, but it was still damn annoying. Couldn't they wait until they were finished doing something more productive, like working?

While 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 and observing the different races they now shared the universe with. They had been ordered to avoid contact, and to stay clear of any ships they encountered. For the first time in Starfleet history, there'd been a general order forbidding any Federation ship to respond to a distress call. Ha'sra thought it was about time, but still 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, were on the other side of the 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 star to siphon deuterium directly from the coronal atmosphere.

The latter had been an idea hatched by that geek Jameson, who'd gotten the idea from some antique 2-dimensional entertainment device. Still, antique or not, the idea had merit and was both practical and feasible. They'd had to take apart a few shuttles and scavenge their multi-phasic shields to do it, but they had more than enough shuttles to spare.

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 (it'd destroy the ecology on two of Sirius V's moons). It hadn't been completely intended to succeed, but he'd always wanted to try building a Dyson sphere. And who cared about two small undeveloped moons where the most advanced life form was a four inch long and quite poisonous lizard?

The presence of a neutron star in the system 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.

It had been quite hard to get the items on the different wish lists prioritized, a result of the project leaders being astrophysicists, warp field theorists, quantum wave theorists, and the other assorted titles that could give you the title of Chief Engineer in Starfleet. Everyone wanted to start building the roof 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 before other things such as laboratories, factories and so on. On a starship, you’d work the other way around, first building the mission systems, and then filling in the blanks with crew quarters. At least it usually looked that way.

Still, it was a huge operation, and with all but two of the starships involved in the construction and resource gathering it was going fast. He doubted any colony had grown as fast as this one, or had even close to the same space-side support. But he also doubted it'd been as necessary for any other colony. They'd already finished a few city blocks, but still the starships were still overcrowded. It was possible to transport most of the people there to the surface, but the infrastructure wasn't completed yet. There wasn't enough housing, enough power or enough replicators. The list went on. They still had to keep going.

They had planned to build enough housing and civics to house 65,000 people in this settlement during the first phase. This would be the new 'capital' of the Sirius system. Other settlements, albeit much smaller, ranging from 500 to 5,000 initial populations, would be spread out over the continent. The reasons varied. For farming, mining, industrial purposes or just the plain 'I want to live *there* factor that was so common among Humans.

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 quarter of the visible sky, as it was much larger and much closer than that of Luna, Earth’s moon, as well.

He blew his whistle, a small ancient Human device that served no purpose other than emitting a sharp noise that could be heard across the 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 was to look at the others. Rather pleasant three floor houses with flat angled roofs, slightly curved walls, several unidirectional windows on each floor and a small garden to each. The gardens weren’t there yet, nor were the paved walkways, but they'd get there as soon as there was time. And, either way, Ha'sra didn't care much about gardens or pavement. Neither had any structural value and he didn’t deal with what he considered ‘fluff’.

Just like the city, the different blocks and streets had been named after places of interest, homeworlds and memorable people or events in their own universe. Next stop, he thought to himself, 107 Cochrane Street. Yet another residential building built to Human specs. Damn people were numerous as rabbits. 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 maternity wards when they planned the civic buildings. He reached for his communicator to do some well-deserved yelling at whoever was responsible.


GENEVA, EARTH
MIDNIGHT


Her name, in her own tongue, meant laughter. 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 meant ‘Looming Shadow’, 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 time of strife.

Her handlers had always called her Shadow. 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.

Even though she could easily be mistaken as Human, she was not. To create this misconception she had undergone several, some quite drastic, surgeries. Though the cosmetic surgery had been painful and invasive enough, she had been forced to take it one step further. It didn’t work if she was scanned and her internal organs looked scrambled, or if even the least intelligent pathologist found some really interesting things in her body. Things that a normal Human being should not have. That might cause them to do a more detailed DNA-scan, and that would be a very bad thing indeed.

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 here, but in addition to protect her eyes from ultraviolet radiation, they allowed her to see in the dark and also to see otherwise invisible laser beams and infrared light.

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 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 limited information was part of the job. She had an advantage there, her being telepathic. Knowing beforehand how another person expected you to react not to arouse suspicion was the point of intelligence, but for a telepath that’s easy. Just look into the other person’s mind, and act accordingly.

Pity these Humans didn’t realize how useful that could be. She’d been quite surprised when she got that information. The guard didn’t react when she walked by, his eyes saw but his mind didn’t register.

This was no 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 just that.

The same thing repeated itself twice more, before she was inside the complex. She looked at her map and memorized; “Follow the corridor twenty meters, 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.

She kept her pace up as she followed her instructed 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 appearance and style to hide her. In the dark it was hard enough to distinguish any features, but if she’d been running past the cameras it would make people ask questions.

She slowly climbed the stairs, taking her time to take in her surroundings. The heart of the opponent, their very headquarters, lay 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.

Telepathy, just like a heartbeat sensor, couldn’t detect mechanical objects. Cameras, traps or weapons were beyond her ability to detect until she could see them. Even so, she’d been able to piece together a basic layout from surface scans 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.

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. 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 be 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, the shelves on the walls, some even seemingly dropped on the floor. Didn’t anyone ever clean this place up? She sighed, as she realized this could take hours.


It was daybreak, and she had made it back to her safe-house undetected. She was… satisfied, with her work thus far. She’d been inserted on earth for three weeks now and everything had gone more or less as planned.

She turned on the small laptop computer she had gotten from her handler, and began writing her report. She didn’t bother encrypting it, these humans couldn’t understand her language anyways, as it were only three words.

‘Shadow, mission accomplished.’

She was tired. Yet another night of hard work had taken its toll. She slipped into the tub to clean away some of the dirt and sweat she'd gathered during the nights activities. She'd been inserted weeks now, and while she enjoyed finally doing what she'd been trained for it got kind of repetitive after a while.

She enjoyed her hot water bath. She wasn't too unused to them, but lately she just hadn't had the time. She'd been working too hard to get a, not just a plausible but a perfect, cover identity. Now she was officially a freelance reporter for the Interstellar News Network. Nothing major, but it got her access to places without people asking why she was there. Not that people usually asked, they didn't even notice her if she didn't want them to, but sometimes it was better to hide in plain sight. Especially for what she had planned.

She'd already infiltrated most of the Earth Alliance governmental buildings without incident. While all had been heavily guarded, she'd only been detected during one of these. That overzealous security guard wouldn't remember anything though. If anyone asked, he'd tell them he had slipped in a doorway and knocked his head on a doorpost. His injuries would confirm that, as she'd purposely knocked him out against said doorpost, and then adjusted his memories to fit her more liberal view of the matter.

But this one would be harder. She relished the thought, she loved the risk, loved the adrenaline rush. Thus far her success had been largely because she'd been pitted against non-telepaths. Tonight, that would change. Her handler wanted more information about this Human telepath organization. How it was organized, who was in charge, what their overall interests were. And if they knew anything, anything at all, that could threaten her or her people.

Tonight, she'd know all about this 'Psi Corps'.

Her orders had been clear. Infiltrate, reconnaissance, don't leave any witnesses but avoid casualties or collateral damage. She didn't expect to have to disobey. Still, these telepaths wouldn't be as easy to infiltrate.

She looked at her watch. Seven AM, Earth standard. She had another hour or so until she had her breakfast meeting with one of the ISN producers. They wanted her to do a quick report on the latest 'Blip directive' from the Corps. Excellent way to do recon.

She laid still in the tub, and just thought about how she'd put her questions to get the telepath she would be interviewing to think as much as possible. An active scan would be far too risky, but even a passive one would give her a lot of information. Ten minutes later she rose from her bath, dried herself off, and started to brush her long hair.

This would be... fun.

"...and now, we go to Earthdome, Geneva, and ISN's very own Raven Henries to get hear the latest comments from the Psi Corps.
"Thank you Hank. I'm here with the Psi Corps public relations officer. Miss DeWalt, how will this new 'Blip' directive actually help you to find these rogue telepaths?"
"Miss Henries was it? This directive will..."

'Raven Henries' just smiled.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 5


FLEET COMMAND
NEW PARIS, SIRIUS III
SEPTEMBER 11, 2243. 2:30 PM


The office still had a particular scent, that 'new' smell. 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, 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 a replica of the Starfleet Command building in San Francisco, while on the inside, it reminded him more of the Utopia Planetia complex on Mars. Large, spacious, and crammed full of the best technology the Federation had.

However, why the engineers had planned Fleet Command to accommodate just over two thousand people was beyond the Admiral. Right now, they didn't even have more than thirty people with the rank of Captain, much less Admirals. He'd taken the main office, the one which on Earth would be used by the Fleet Admiral, the Admiral in command of the entire Federation Starfleet. He didn't think too much about it, but that was the same position as West was in now.

But while there may not be a difference in semantics, there was definitely a difference between a Starfleet of 32 ships, and a Starfleet of more than 10,000 vessels. Just as there's a difference of a Federation with more than a hundred trillion people spread over more than a thousand member worlds, and a Federation of 90,000 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 cornered him.
"Pfft. You know as well as I that some things must change, and some things must remain the same. Administratively you'll have less work than before, and your responsibility won't be much more than it is now." Captain Keyes looked more humored than annoyed.
"I know that, but..."
"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 Elisha Keyes.
"No, but I say you should treat it that way, Samuel." She smiled. "You're used to that."
"Aw heck. You're going to force this on me anyways sooner or later. I wouldn't be surprised if your next move would be to sneak into my room and change the insignia on my uniform while I slept." 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 over.
"You know me better than that. I'm really good with a transporter."

She smiled, tapped her communicator twice, and the Admiral almost jumped as his insignias were teleported away, and then replaced.

"You... you... you..."
"Oh, come on Samuel. You didn't honestly believe I was going to walk out of here a loser?"
"You, you could have killed me! The margin of error..."
"Bah. The worst that could have happened was I missed with a few inches. And we both know that wouldn't have damaged anything of consequence."
She flashed a smile to reinforce the joke, and turned to leave.

Left alone again, he looked in the mirror. He'd never expected, nor wanted, to get this high in the ranks. He'd have to check the historical records, but he highly doubted that any other Chief of Starfleet Operations had been an Engineer. He could already feel the weight of the two new pips on either side of his neck.

"Well then. 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. Now, he could retaliate.

He pulled out an old ball pen from his desk and started signing some papers. He'd enter them into the log later to make them official.

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


ADMIRAL'S OFFICE, FLEET COMMAND
NEW PARIS, SIRIUS III
4 PM


"I see it, but I barely believe it. You 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.
"What would happen if you were scanned, or got in a fight?"
"As you can see from the blueprints, it's not exactly current standard but she's still got a few innovative design specs."

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

"The exterior would be constructed using the most basic materials, but the inner hull would be shielded and reinforced with neutronium, just in case. The ion drive is just a modified impulse reactor, but note that the ship does have an impulse manifold as well, though it's hidden beneath that hatch there."
"Hidden?"
"Yes. We'd have to blow away the exterior hull here, here and here, to use it."
"I see."
"The ship lacks shields, but does have polarizing hull plating. It also has a warp drive though it's limited. It won’t be able to sustain more than Warp 7, and just over 7.75 in an emergency. That's a consequence of its limited power output. If we'd go for a modern drive, the energy signature would be impossible to hide."
"How do you hide it?"
"Simple, it's in a shielded location, and also behind an energy dampening field. We don't expect anyone to see it's even there, much less producing power. Plus, the fusion reactors can get us to warp if we need it, giving us time enough to power up the warp core."
"Fusion powered Warp? That won't be fast."
"But it’ll be fast enough to escape a confrontation.” T’Pell sighed, and then smiled. “We haven't seen any of the natives' ships go past one-eight impulse, much less go faster-than-light. That’s probably a consequence of their lack of inertial dampening and artificial gravity – which we’ll have, but those systems will be shielded as well as able to be turned off."
"What about defenses?"
"We've put phaser turrets on it. Not the latest type, but they should still be effective. It's also got two torpedo launchers, with the old Photonic torpedoes."
"Weren't those phased out more than two hundred years ago?"
"Yes, but they're fusion, not anti-matter, based, which was the point in using them."
"I understand..."

West thought about T'Pell's proposition for a minute. A scout ship, built far below Starfleet specs. At about the size of a Norway-class ship it'd be far smaller than any military ships they'd seen so far. The overall design would be closer to a small freighter or passenger liner, and it'd look unthreatening to anyone that looked at it. It’d even have cargo pods in the external hull, and the design called for the ship to carry various non-perishable goods in these.

He had no concerns about the more advanced technology in the ship being detected - thus far no race they’d encountered had been using subspace scanners, and fooling an EM scanner was easy enough. He doubted they’d even be able to see the true face of this Trojan horse using the advanced sensors of the Albion, though the Novas would probably be able to do so. Not much you can do when the sensors take up more space than the engineering deck, and project more energy than the warp field. A Nova’s sensors could even detect the quantum singularity powering a cloaked D’deridex, something otherwise only a Starbase or Deep Space station had been able to do.

The ship would have a crew of 48, all of them Andorian, and be commanded by T'Pell. The Andorians had been specifically chosen since they couldn't be mistaken as Human, their blue skin and antennae made that quite impossible, and the entire ship would be programmed to use the Andorian language on the displays and in the core code. Considering how long it took the Humans of his galaxy to decode that language (Andorian words have different meanings depending on the syntax, has 5 syntaxes, no regular verbs and 8 tenses) it should be near impossible for the natives. That is, unless they had their own Hoshi Sato. But West doubted that.

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 your plan. 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 we'll have to reverse-engineer from the Federation database. You know, no one's actually made any of this stuff in over two hundred years."
"I'll tell the Commander of Phi station to expect you."
"Thank you, Admiral."

T'Pell was positively radiant as he turned and left. He'd expected to have to fight a lot harder to get his idea through. If there was one single good thing about their situation, it was the immense reduction in red tape. He'd already sent the preliminary orders, now all he had to do was to send the confirmation.

"T'Pell to Tolar."
"Tolar here, go ahead Captain."
"Project Odyssey is a go."
"Confirmed. I’ll forward the orders."
“Good. T’Pell out.”


EARTHDOME
GENEVA, EARTH
9:15 PM


"Damn it!" She swore silently. She looked around the corner behind her, he was still there. She exhaled and softly 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 this far. While he didn’t look too bad, his taste could 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?

He was good too, even for a telepath. She'd almost stumbled right into him, and it was just 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 untrained Humans could sense her if she was close enough, and if he could see or hear her the telepathic ability didn’t matter much.

She knew she could easily take him out, but that there was no way she'd be able to cover it up. Bad thing about telepaths, they can't be tampered with that easily, 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. 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.

She looked around. The corridors here were a testament to bad taste and perfect beyond pedantic order. 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 frames on the walls didn't contain landscapes or paintings, they contained dogma; 'The corps is mother, the corps is father'. 'Obey'. 'Protect the family'.

Heck, even the damned military was less meticulously pedantic than this. She knew; she’d already been inside the Earth Force headquarters. The Intelligence agency however was mostly chaotic. This was as exact as if someone had used a laser meter 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 or 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 made her angry. How could they treat anyone like that, 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. She was almost shocked when she realized it was just a child.

She'd been wrong earlier.

This wasn't fun.

Just necessary. Damned necessary.


EARTH INTELLIGENCE AGENCY HEADQUARTERS
EARTHDOME, GENEVA, EARTH
11:05 PM


Parker hadn't even noticed before. He'd been too focused on his current assignment monitoring the Centauri and Narn communications to put any of his time toward the 'Pasadena Skies' incident. The two large empires had once again had a border skirmish, one that threatened the stability of the entire region. It'd cool down in a week or so, but both Centauri and Narn were still shouting insults.

Whose fault it'd been, who entered who's space, those were questions not even asked, much less answered. No one really cared anymore. Parker even felt apathy at the idea of investigating it, it was nothing new and the result wouldn't influence anything. They'd still repeat the process in a month or two either way.

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.

He'd found reports he'd forgotten he even had received, and material he'd been asked to process and then forgotten. Among the later 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.

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!

All he had left now was a single piece of paper, with a blurred image of the so-called spacecraft. It didn't look like much. 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. Then it struck him that nothing else was missing.

Who'd break into his office just to get his hands on that? When there were state secrets and more 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.

And when they realized he didn't 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 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 AROUND SIRIUS III
OCTOBER 20, 2243. 10:00 PM


The spacedock facility wasn't much, 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 300 workers, but that was more than enough to construct a vessel like this in less than 6 weeks.

T'Pell was still astonished that the pink-skins had managed to construct the shipyard facility as fast as they had, much less already all but completed his 'Project Odyssey'. To make matters even more impressive, Spacedock Phi was only one of 24 stations the pink-skins had planned, and 12 of these were already completed. In less than 3 months! He found that he had nothing but reverance and awe towards the engineering ability of his Starfleet colleagues.

The first 8 of the 24 had been planned as simple docking facilities, with re-supply, re-armament and light repair ability. Currently the Akiras were taking up five, Alpha through Epsilon, of these docks, in other words every single Akira, most of their crews working on the construction projects down on the planet or here in orbit, with only mooring crews left on the ships. The three Excelsiors were planned to enter dock as well as soon as Eta and Theta docks were completed.

The second third of the stations were planned to be defensible resource stations to allow orbital storage and refinement of resources and materials. Two of these were also supposed to be dedicated antimatter storage stations, unmanned but heavily shielded and defended. The last third of them were pure construction yards like those at Utopia Planetia, two able to build each type of hull. The largest would be Type 4, like the 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.

His ship was the only one in construction however. It was kind of a pink-skin trait, they built things, how did they put it, not because they needed them, but just in case they'd need them. 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 completed sometime tomorrow.

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, the methods and materials of construction in project Odyssey were 200 years old, or more. Give or take a few things, the computer systems, phasers and warp core couldn’t be more than 50 or so years old. Old enough to be easy to construct and assemble.

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 wanted a number. He'd have to take that up with the Admiral.

Still, even though it wasn't beautiful, fast or powerful, it was his ticket out into space again. He was an explorer and a warrior, not a babysitter. Sitting here in orbit around their new homeworld, be it in one of the most powerful ships in this universe, was still not much more than babysitting space. They'd already made perfectly sure that no one else had been in the system for the last millennia. What use was there for patrols? And, after all this ship was truly his. His idea, his construction, his people, his command.

"Captain?"
"Yes, Lieutenant Shenar?"
"Phi Station report construction 98% complete. We can start bringing on the crew for the shakedown cruise."
"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 for 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.


FLEET COMMAND
NEW PARIS
OCTOBER 22, 2243. 10:00 AM


West had definitely had some doubts about the feasibility of constructing a ship to codes more than a hundred years old, but it had apparently worked. Thus far. There was nothing to say that the ship would stand up under pressure though, and the maiden voyage would be risky.

"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 ‘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. Proxima is, but we'd 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 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 not to reveal our own faster-than-light technology."

The plan called for a risk, the Admiral was well aware of that. Still, as they needed to be close enough to reach the portal within 5 seconds at highest warp, T'Pell would need to be within 40 light-minutes of it. Much too close for comfort, and West only hoped it'd be far enough to avoid detection.

"I know, T'Pell. I know. 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 observation deck."
"Then let's get to it, shall we Captain?"
"Yes sir." T'Pell flashed a smile.
"West to Phi Station. Two to beam up."


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

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

"As I'm no good public speaker, I will keep this short. Today we start a new era in our lives. Today, we christen the first ship constructed in 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 towards the bow of the ship.

"To honor the 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 Andorians.

"Let it be known that from this moment on, what has earlier only been called 'Project Odyssey' is now a 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 impacted the bow of the ship 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 an 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, it's not because of deception but to avoid panic, confusion and aggression. Either of which would be 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, and good luck, as they venture into the unknown that awaits them."

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 cleared to depart Phi Station."
"Affirmative. Bringing main engines online, 20% 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, and it took a few seconds to clear the space dock’s rib-like structure without impacting it.

"Admiral, we have cleared the dock. We are commencing our shakedown cruise. We'll report in to Phi station as we finish our tests."
"Confirmed, 'Shran', you are cleared to exit 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.

He didn't want to lose yet another.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 6


ALPHA CENTAURI SYSTEM
CENTAURUS ORBIT
OCTOBER 24, 2243


Sometimes, you have to pause and just listen. In space, this is harder than most other places since it's always silent. After all, sound doesn't carry through space. Humans have a saying. In space, no one can hear you scream. The literal irony in that is just about as cold as space itself.

The planet Centaurus had been here for as long as the twin stars of the system had. Life had flashed into existence only a few billion years ago, just like it had in its parallel universe. The difference being what choices evolution took, what form life would choose in its different crossroads? To what ends did evolution choose? Intelligence? Sentience? Reproduction? Or was it just random?

Either way, evolution did not work the same way here as it did where T'Pell came from. In his reality, Centaurus was a flourishing Federation world, one of the first to develop a viable form of terraforming technology. In this, it was still a life-bringing planet, but different. So very different.

Centaurians, as he remembered them, were humanoid in appearance and very scientifically advanced. The only difference between them and other pink-skins was a slight difference in skull form, giving them a somewhat elongated head. The life forms beneath him now were hardly advanced. Instead of an advanced primate civilization, he'd found an avian civilization comparable to Earth's mid 16th century in development.

It's funny how life can take such a turn from the expected path. While some planets had not developed life at all, most that had seemed to have taken completely different paths. Thus far, the only exception was Earth itself, and he still didn't understand why that was.

"Science, is there any information we can use about this civilization?"
"Not much, sir. They're not even to the point where they've invented electricity yet, much less interstellar travel."
"Very well, send the full sensor logs in an encrypted subspace package back to Fleet Command. They might be interested."
"Yes, sir."
"Conn, plot a course to bring us closer to the edge of the inner system. Full impulse. Let's see what's out there."
"Yes, Captain. Plotting course 40 by 5, full impulse."
"Engage."

The 'Shran' had already spent more than enough time here in the inner system, fine tuning sensors, warp drive and shielding systems to as close to perfect condition as the crew could come. T'Pell was proud of their work, but the question as to whether it was enough wasn't answered yet. It wouldn't be until they came up against the native races' ships, and knew whether they could detect the ship's technology or not.

Hopefully they wouldn't be able to, and T'Pell was betting the safety of his crew and his people on that. He'd seen the Human warships, and he didn't believe for a second that the 'Shran' would be able to take more than a few seconds of that kind of firepower. Ironic. These pink-skins reminded him more of Andorians than of the pink-skins he was used to.

"Bridge to Engineering"
"Shenar here, Captain."
"Are you ready to get this show on the road?"
"Yes, Captain, all the sensor shielding is up, and we're not emitting any antimatter signature that even our own sensors can detect."
"Good. Bridge out."

It was almost time.

"Operations, rig the ship for silent running, we don't want to attract the attention of these pink-skins quite yet."
"Silent running aye, Captain."

The light dimmed as the ship's power signature was dropped considerably. All non-essential systems were now offline.

"Plan a course to bring us within 40 light minutes of the pink-skin portal device."
"Course plotted, sir."
"Take us there, warp 5."
"Warp 5 aye, sir."

The moment of truth was upon them.


PROXIMA PRIME
PROXIMA III ORBIT


Even at a late hour, an Earth Alliance outpost is always manned and active. Ready for anything that would or could come their way. At least, that's what the book says. In reality, there's not all that much to do on an outpost in the middle of the night. This, plus the fact that most sane people abhorred the graveyard shift led to a very silent, almost sleepy atmosphere on the station.

This changed as the jump gate array just outside the station started to emit controlled energy bursts. As if by magic, the large sleepy space station came to life, interceptors and defense grid activating automatically.

"Jump gate sequence initiated, Commander."
"Ah, good. This should be the Korolev; she was supposed to be here an hour ago."
"We'll see, Commander, jump gate is forming. Reading a signature, sir, it's a Nova-class dreadnought."
"Stand down the defense grid, it's one of ours."
"Aye, sir. Defense grid confirms stand down order."

Outside, the jump point had finished forming. The colossal hulk of the Korolev started to emerge from the swirling vortex, preceded by its forward laser cannons and sensor antenna.

"Proxima Station to Korolev."
"Korolev standing by, Proxima."
"You're cleared for parking orbit."
"Affirmative."

Everyone in the CiC looked at the dreadnought as it slowly flew past the large glass windows in all its dreadful glory, no one noticing the small ship that had just appeared right next to the still open jump point.

"Proxima. This is the Korolev. We are reading a small ship near the jump gate. It seems to have followed us out."
"Korolev, repeat that?"

The lower ranking officer looked at his sensor board, and then pointed at a small, shiny object in space, near the now fading jump point.

"Commander, they're right! An unidentified ship followed the Korolev out of hyperspace!"
"What? Cancel the stand down order. Let me see!"

The lieutenant moved aside so the station Commander would have a better view.

"Signature matches nothing in our databases, sir."

The Commander saw the small shiny ship, at least it looked like a ship, glide slowly towards the station. It made no obvious signs of aggression, but then again he didn’t know what to expect such a sign to look like either.

"Looks small though. A freighter maybe?"
"Sensors would seem to corroborate that. Reading large amounts of what must be trade goods, sir."
"Armaments?"
"Light. Reading minimal weapons signatures, none of them active."
"First contact?"
"It would seem so, sir. Reading some fifty life signs on the UFO, but they don't match anything we have on record either.
"Hmm....." The Commander seemed to lose himself in thought, until the Lieutenant demanded his attention.
"Captain! I repeat. Shall I stand down the defense grid before we blow a few holes in them?"
"Oh! Yes, make it so Lieutenant."


AFS SHRAN


T'Pell almost sighed in relief as the power signatures of the station went back to normal. He wasn't sure they'd timed it exactly right, but so far everything looked like it went according to plan. He just hoped it'd remain that way.

"Conn, move us closer to the station. Make it slow, slow enough to be believable."
"Aye sir, going... slow." Conn made half a smile.
"Captain, we're being scanned, and they're hailing us." Tolar was sitting at the sensors console.
"Do they detect anything they shouldn't?"
"Hardly, Captain. Primitive EM sensors, they aren't even making it through the inner hulls, much less the shielding. They only read what our transponders show them."
"Good."

He waited a few seconds.

"What language are they hailing us in?"
"English, sir."
"Very well.. Use a standard EM transmitter and send them the basic Andorian language files."
"Aye sir, transmitting."

It took a few minutes before the pink-skin station responded, doing so by sending them their own language files. T'Pell smiled; he could speak fluent English even without the aid of the universal translator. He made a mental note that this gave him an advantage.

"Disable the universal translator. Everyone, please at least try to act like you don't understand English." That was a comment that made the entire bridge crew smile.
"Done, Captain."
"Good. Though next time, Tolar, say that in Andorian."
"Yes, Captain."


MID-RANGE STATION


The minutes went by all too slowly, at least for the people in the CiC of Proxima Mid-range station. They'd sent their language files just over five minutes ago, and while it would be fast for these aliens to understand their language in that short a time the suspense was murderous.

"Sir, they're responding to our hail now."
"Visual?"
"Yes, sir, putting it up on the main viewer."

As the viewer was turned on, showing a panoramic image of the alien bridge, Commander Patterson almost dropped his jaw. The aliens were humanoid, but more alien than most other species he'd ever seen. They reminded him more of the Gaim than anything else, but they didn’t have the insectoid exoskeleton. The most alien thing wasn't the blue skin, the short stature or the militaristic dress they used. It was the two visibly moving antennae on top of their heads.

Patterson tried to regain his faculties and spoke up, while trying to remember what was actually written in the Earth Force instructions on first contact situations. Too bad he'd never paid much attention to it.

"Hello and welcome. My name is Commander Patterson, of the Earth Alliance mid-range station here at Proxima."

The alien looked like he was listening to a translation of some kind.
It took a while for the commander's own system to perform a similar function, though he received the translation on a screen instead.
"Well... *met*... Commander... I... *ship owner* T'Pell."

He almost cursed. It seemed the computer couldn't translate all of the alien language yet, or lacked some words in its translation matrix. The asterisks in the translation denoted the computer's best guess, not an actual translation.

"May I ask what the purpose of your visit to Earth space is?"
"Trade... ship... far... home... explorer. Merchant."
"You're a trading ship far from home?"
"Yes."
"Very well, I'd like to invite you to visit our station so we can meet face to face."
"*Acceptable*"
"Very well, I'll instruct one of our shuttle bays to prepare for your entry. Do you need any special environment?"
"No... yours... *acceptable*."
"May I ask, what is the name of your species? Where are you from?"
"Andoria."

With that, communications were cut. Patterson smiled; first contact experience was always a good thing to have on your résumé, especially when you wanted a ship command of your own. He didn't want to be a parking director, which was what he saw Proxima station as, at this overgrown parking house.


PROXIMA STATION
TWO HOURS LATER


So far, everything had gone to plan. The pink-skins didn't suspect the truth, and their cover story had been accepted without as much as a hint of doubt. T'Pell and Tolar had gone over to the pink-skin station, not through transporters but rather using an old shuttle pod, and met with the male in charge. So different these pink-skins were to the ones they were used to!

The Commander had shown them around their station, apparently trying to impress them with the 'technological advancements' that had been used in its construction. They had at least tried to look suitably impressed, and T'Pell only hoped the pink-skins didn't suspect otherwise. If nothing else, being in the zero-gravity central structure had been pleasing.

Still, the main question the Commander wanted answered remained the same.

"So, Captain? Is that a correct title?"
"Close enough."
"You said you were explorers? Where do you come from?"
"Andoria."
"Yes, you said that. Can you tell me where it is?"
"Far from here."
"Can you be more specific?"

T'Pell remembered his earlier briefing and decided for a white lie. Hopefully that'd get the Commander off his back.

"Far past Yolu."
"Ah. That explains it. Are there many of you? What is your home like?"
"Our system binary. White star. Many moons, some we live on. Few ships."

T'Pell kept his serious face but made a mental smile, as he saw the Commander's response. At this point he was fairly certain he could read the pink-skin's mind. A primitive society that didn't pose much of a threat. That's one mission objective.

"Are all your ships as impressive as the one you arrived on?"
"This is newest ship. All others are older."

That was true. Albeit the 'Shran' was built with centuries old technology, it was still constructed much more recently than even the Sovereigns.

"I see."


UNKNOWN SYSTEM
BETWEEN MINBARI AND CENTAURI SPACE


Jameson couldn't help but curse their bad luck. So far, they had been able to traverse most of the galaxy undetected, but it seemed that precious ability was at an end. They had entered an area of space that separated two of this universe's major powers, the Centauri Republic and the Minbari Federation, to gather some intelligence about the two.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time - now he was fairly certain it was not. The yellow-black flower ship pursuing his ship was a good indicator that so was the case.

"Commander!"
"I see, Lieutenant. Raise shields!"
"Shields up!"
"Conn?"
"We're traveling at close to max impulse, sir - it's still gaining!"
"Oh, crap. Warp speed!"
"Yes, sir... we can't sir! Our warp field is destabilizing!"
"What?!"
"The ship, or WHATEVER it is, is emitting some kind of energy field around it, its dampening subspace!"

This was a problem. He had no idea what this ship was capable of, but it required a deep mastery of subspace technology to create a dampening field, and even more so to fit it inside anything smaller than a heavy cruiser. Not even the Romulans, who had invented the technology in his universe, had managed to make one that didn't require a full D'deridex size ship.

And yet this ship, not much larger than the Icarus, seemed more than able to do so and still have enough energy remaining to give chase.

“Still no response to our hails?” Jameson asked.
“No sir, not since they tried to upload that virus over our communications system.”
"Well then, I think we've shown that we want to withdraw without incident. Load the aft torpedo launcher. Set to minimal yield."
"Torpedo loaded." The Tactical Officer didn't have much experience, but that was normally not all that necessary on a Nova class ship either.
"Aim it across their bow, make this a warning shot." Jameson made a grim face. "Fire!"
"Torpedo away!"

The glowing blue torpedo shot out of the rear of the ship. Jameson and all of his bridge crew watched it pass right between two of the pursuing ships petals. They didn't know anything else to better describe them as.

"Hostile is still chasing us sir. Now reading at .93 light speed, sir!"

Jameson was just awed. That was faster than an impulse drive could go without pulling out the safeties! And they didn't have the time to do that!

"Sir! Reading energy signatures!" Science was almost panicked.
"Confirmed, sir! They've locked on!" Tactical wasn't much better off.
"We have no choice. Weapons hot people!"

Jameson was interrupted by the entire ship shaking as the flower ship's forward weapons hit.

"Shields down to 72% sir, we can't take too many of those hits!"
"Tactical, return fire!"
"Having problems locking on, sir, they seem to use some kind of scattering field!"
"Aim manually then, just shoot back damn it!"
"Aye sir, I'll try."

The larger Nova class starship made a sharp banking turn to let its main weapons, the dorsal phaser arrays, face the flower ship. It didn't take many seconds until the first golden red energy beams started to hit the flower ship, but due to the bad aiming only half the rays actually hit. Apart from almost severing one of the petals half-way out from the ship they did little damage.

"Report!"
"Minor damage to the hostile, our phasers are barely damaging the main hull!"
"Lock on quantum torpedoes, auxiliary power to weapons!"

Jameson would remember the following minutes for the rest of his life. The length of the Icarus shook as another energy beam impacted the shield bubble. It was getting dangerously low on power now. Barely breathing he gave several short orders in succession.

Suddenly, the Icarus made another sharp banking turn, during which the flower ship was struck repeatedly by every phaser array that could get an angle and managed to actually hit. The phaser beams weren't enough to destroy or even cripple the enemy ship; it left blackened hull behind it, but didn't cut deep enough. It did however seem like the flower ship lacked weapons capable of firing to its sides, a dangerous vulnerability against a maneuverable opponent.

With its turn completed and the Icarus now speeding away from the flank of the hostile, the rear launcher fired another quantum torpedo at the target. The difference from the previous one was this one was set to maximum yield, normally enough to implode an unprotected starship. The torpedo only scored a glancing hit on the rear section of the hostile, but it completely severed three of the four petals, including the previously damaged one.

"Sir, it's still pursuing, we won't be able to outrun and it won't be long before we're dead sir, shields are holding at 8%, one more hit from that energy beam weapon will most likely finish us!"
"Very well. Let's finish this."

The flower ship wasn't slower, but much less maneuverable than it had been. Jameson guessed that the petals worked as some sort of maneuvering aid, but the torpedo hit could have damaged other systems as well so any such assumption wasn't much more than a guess.

The damage the ship had sustained did however allow the Icarus to lock on to the damaged section of the hull. With that simple fact, the engagement was over. Jameson uttered only one word; "Fire!"

The flower ship might have been able to withstand phasers. It might have been able to withstand a maximum yield Quantum torpedo. It was not able to withstand two of the maximum-yield zero-point energy implosions detonating inches from each other, in an already damaged section of its hull.

"Damage report."
"Sir.. reading damage to the outer hull. Hull breaches on decks six through eight, emergency force fields are holding."
"Anything else?"
"Yes sir, we've lost most of our high-resolution sensors, and sickbay reports 24 casualties. 8 of them fatalities. Damage to all shield generators, we won't be able to maintain more than a 40% charge."
"Damn it!" Jameson kept on swearing for a few seconds.

"Conn, get us the hell out of here. We just bit off a hell of a lot more than we can chew."

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 7


CLASS XI SHUTTLE
FEDERATION SPACE
SIRIUS SYSTEM


The atmosphere in orbit was high. Construction on the orbital facilities was going according to plan, resourcing operations were on schedule, and most of the evacuees were now down on the planet starting to make their best attempt at their new lives. The shellshock of being exiled from their own reality, that had been so devastating to morale, had begun to subside, and in its wake it lit up the basic human instincts. Bonding, procreation, construction and the ever present human lust for exploration.

West had thought it impossible for his people to recover this quickly. It had barely been 3 months since they were stranded in this reality, and they had already finished building two of their new settlements. New Paris was only lacking a few civic buildings and the final gardening work, while New Manhattan was all but finished. The former would be the new capital, the latter the new industrial nexus.

A smaller settlement was also being constructed on the moon’s surface, more reminiscing of a complex on Risa than of anything Starfleet had ever planned. He smiled, it’d been a great idea, and the construction of the recreational complex had already had a positive effect on morale.

Right now, the Admiral was heading for the newly finished orbital; Aquilae. As a station constructed and placed for a single reason; orbital defense, it was an impressive feat of technology. Yet, the Admiral didn't really think it was too necessary. They were far out of reach of the Romulans, and thus far no one had seen any evidence that any of the native races had ever entered this system, much less knew that it was now inhabited.

The Admiral relaxed and leaned back in his chair. Necessary or not, it was finished now, and one of his duties was to head the opening ceremony. And to be quite honest, he didn't have too much else to fill his days with.

On their way to Aquilae station, they passed close to the orbital docks. The Admiral still thought the structures looked like silver rib cages. They weren't empty anymore though; the Akiras and Excelsiors were all parked in docking facilities and emptied of their crew, while his Norways and Steamrunners were parked in lunar orbits with only skeleton crews aboard while the rest of their officers and crew made their homes on the planet.

There was no reason to keep people in space at this point, except for the vessels that were being used in the construction and resourcing efforts. To that end, the smaller spacecraft had little to do other than patrolling the area, while the combat-oriented Akiras and Excelsiors had absolutely nothing to do.

He sighed. There wasn't much for him to do at all, at this point only three of the vessels under his command were outside the system and all of them were on discreet reconnaissance missions. Even T'Pell, even though he had the most interesting mission, was still only gathering information.

Suddenly, the calm was interrupted.

"Admiral, we're being hailed by Aquilae station."
"On screen, crewman."

It took a few seconds, but then the face of the newly promoted Rear Admiral Keyes appeared on the screen.

"Admiral Keyes, what brings me the pleasure?"
"Admiral West. Sorry to disturb you sir, but I thought you should be made aware as soon as possible. We just detected an incoming warp signature; it'll enter the system in less than 2 minutes."

West was suddenly very disturbed. They weren't expecting anyone, and their own ships shouldn't be returning for at least another week.
"One of ours?"
"Maybe, even probable, but we can't be sure yet. They aren't responding to our hails."
"Then we have to assume the worst. Elisha, what do we have hot?"
"Little, sir, and what we have will be unprepared."
"Elisha...”
"I've already asked the Captains of the Independence, Victory, Valiant and Venture to go to yellow alert and head towards Aquilae."
"That's all?"
"All we can muster in the time we have, sir."
"Four ships... How far the mighty have fallen... Very well. See to it that the Gabriel and Michael launch their fighter squadrons. If it’s not ours we can’t let it get the word out, much less escape. Now. Let's see what's coming our way."
"Understood, Aquilae out."
"Pilot, full speed. I want to be at the Aquilae before that ship arrives."
"Yes, sir."


USS ICARUS
INTERSTELLAR SPACE


The ship was limping through the void between Pi Eridani and Sirius, its battered and bruised hull barely resembling what had traveled this same space only a few weeks ago. That time they’d travelled in the opposite direction, at more than twice the speed. This time they had to be more careful and a lot slower.

Jameson was still worried. They'd sustained heavy damage during their battle with the flower ship, and some of it they hadn't been able to repair yet. One of these damaged systems was the port nacelle; another was the sub-space communications system.

He was impressed with the old girl though, she was still in more or less one piece and surprisingly enough she was still holding together even at Warp 5. He didn't want to push the engines further than that with only one functioning nacelle. There was also the damage to the deflector array as well as the sensors, which meant traveling faster than this was quite comparable to suicide.

A starship colliding with a planet at several hundred times the speed of light just because they didn’t see it in time was not something Jameson ever wanted to see, much less do, no matter how spectacular the results would be.

Still, he didn't know how his peers would react to his entrance, considering their warp signature would be different with only one nacelle operating and that they had no way to communicate with them until he entered direct visual range.

"Commander, we're approaching Sirius, estimated time of arrival 30 seconds."
"Good. Let's go to impulse speed a good while before orbit, I don't want to startle the Admiral."
"Aye aye, Captain."


AQUILAE STATION
SIRIUS III HIGH ORBIT


What an opening ceremony, and what irritating irony. West had thought the station superfluous since the day he’d first seen the blueprints, but now, the first time the Admiral had set his foot on the station it was to order the station to do its job, orbital defense. West kept his gaze locked at the sensor display.

One possibility was that it was a ship belonging to one of the native races, and if so it had to be destroyed before it could report their existence or escape. The other possibility was that it was one of his own ships, but if so that only raised more questions, like what had happened and why they weren’t or couldn’t respond to hails, and could be far more devastating to their situation. Either way it’d be bad news.

He quickly made his way from the landing pad to the turbolift, barking his destination with equal stress. The ride seemed to last forever and by the time the lift had reached the Combat Information Center, he’d pretty much thought the entire situation through once too many times already.

“Admiral.” Keyes stood ready. “I just heard from Duval, the Independence and the Victory are ready.”
“Good. Any new information?”
“Negative. Still closing though.”
"Fleet to all ships, stand ready. Here it comes."


USS GABRIEL
SIRIUS III LOW ORBIT


"Alpha wing, Scramble, scramble, scramble!"

Davis was already on his feet, getting into his flight suit and heading for his fighter. The last few weeks had been paradise, being aboard a real strike carrier was his dream come true. Just moments later he was strapping his Peregrine-II to his back and the flight crew was giving the thumbs-up for combat launch.

"Alpha, this is Leader. We'll launch in 10. Keep in wedge formation, Nine, you're on my wing today, as are you, Two."
"Nine here, Confirmed." Davis said in his radio.
"Keep your heads cool people, this may not be a hostile, but we'll proceed under the assumption that it is."

The confirmations came in from all 12 ships in Alpha wing.

Seconds later, they were launching in combat formation. Three fighters at a time, each with its wing commander at the center. In a show of perfect timing, the twelve small spacecraft had formed a strike wave formation and were heading towards their latest objective.


USS ICARUS
APPROACHING SIRIUS III


"Captain, this is Engineering.”
“I hear you, Engineering.” Jameson replied. “What’s up?”
“Sorry, sir, but we won't be able to give you impulse."
"Engineering, say again?" Jameson did so not want to hear that.
"Captain, the old girl's pretty banged up. The impulse reactor won't start up, and we won't be able to fix it in time."
"I see."
"Commander, we're entering the system now." Conn interrupted.

This was cause for concern. He didn't want to exit warp too close to the planet; partly because he didn't want to seem like a threat, but mostly because without impulse power, their braking distance would be quite long. Long enough to do a swan dive into a moon in the worst case.

Still, if he exited too far out they’d run the risk of running into the asteroid field that was just outside the colony’s orbit.

"Commander, we need to act, now." Conn pointed out.
"Very well. Ensign, take us out of warp now, full reverse thrusters."
"Aye, sir..."
"Let's show them who we are and hope they notice us before we crash into something."


AQUILAE STATION
SIRUIS III HIGH ORBIT


"Admiral..."
"I see it, Elisha. Magnify!"

Now he knew what the vessel was. What he didn't know though could fill volumes.

"Tell the defense ships to stand down from red alert, but to keep their eyes open. Launch rescue operations."
"Roger."


ALPHA NINE
SIRIUS SYSTEM


Well, he might as well put his weapons on safe. He wouldn't be shooting at anything anyways. The relief at that was kind of taken away by the view however, as he looked out and saw the blackened and scarred vessel.

The Icarus had exited warp and immediately started to spin out of control, as its braking thrusters had fired unevenly. The inertial force had given the crew a shaky ride, but what was more visibly apparent was that it had almost sheared off the already damaged port nacelle. As it was it was only hanging on by a few strips of twisted metal.

It hadn't taken many minutes before the Venture had shown up and managed to stabilize the smaller Nova with its tractor beams, and now the two larger ships, one towing the other, were escorted by the full fighter wing during their trip over to the now empty Spacedock Phi. The engineering crews would have their work cut out for them, patching the ship up would take weeks.

The escort may have been superfluous, but seeing the damage caused to the Icarus and the lack of communications so far (evidently caused by the blackened scar that used to be its subspace transceiver) made every precaution necessary.

"Well then." Davis quietly commented, "It would seem our stay here may get more interesting than I thought."


AQUILAE STATION
SIRIUS III HIGH ORBIT
FOUR HOURS LATER


"Admiral West. Admiral Keyes." Jameson saluted them both in order of rank.
"Commander, please take a seat."

Jameson did as ordered and took a seat opposite the two senior officers.

"Now. Can you explain to us what happened?" Keyes began the debriefing.
"Well, sirs, in short, we went too far too fast, and ran into some trouble."
"'Some trouble', Jameson, you must be joking. Your ship is going to need several weeks of repair. You've lost an entire nacelle, your outer hull's almost completely melted down to the inner hull in several places, and the engineers at Phi Station almost cried when he told me it'd be quicker to list what doesn't need repairs than what does. Please, be more specific." West looked somewhat annoyed.
"Very well. We set out as ordered, Admiral. We followed the Centauri border along the course that you provided while surveying and gathering sensor and signal information about their society from outside..."

Jameson tried to remember as well as possible.

“We started our mission near the Epsilon Eridani system, which according to local knowledge is an uninhabited system. We managed to prove this incorrect, but we never went close enough to get a complete reading on the possible life forms, but there was a large energy reading on one of the planets there that we flagged for further investigation at a later time.

We continued along the border zone between the Centauri and Minbari for some time, passing through or close to among others Chi Eridani, Barradas II, Galorndon Cor and the Miridian system. These were all M- or L-class worlds, just like they were in our universe, but we detected no traces of intelligent life on either of these planets, though we found two of these wormhole apparatuses in the Miridian system of which one seemed relatively new. We believe the older apparatus was either forgotten or has malfunctioned at one time or other, however even the newest of the two read as several millennia old.

We continued to gather data from across both borders, but it appeared as though the maps we were able to get earlier were correct, neither the Centauri nor Minbari have claimed these systems.”

West interjected with a question - "A neutral zone?"

“Of sorts, perhaps. There is no historical evidence of any conflict ever erupting between the two empires that we have managed to find so far, but the Centauri don't seem to anxious to get too close, and the Minbari don't really seem to care about the Centauri one way or the other. There’s not even a single sensor buoy along the border that we could find.

This was mostly what we found from there all the way along the shared border, with only minor discrepancies to the data we already had. Mostly these differences were due to natural causes, like one planet that may well have been an M-class planet only a hundred years ago, but it's now a class B semi-molten planet due to the rapid expansion of its star going into its red giant stage.

This changed, however. We were near the location where Starbase 123 would have been in our universe when we were suddenly scanned by an unknown source. We're still not sure whether it was a ship or something else. Either way, one of those big sinkholes in space opened up and what must have been a ship exited the portal. We tried to avoid contact in compliance with your orders, but it was soon evident that we were already spotted. The alien ship took up a pursuit course and charged weapons immediately after entering normal space.

We tried to hail it, tried to explain we meant no harm and that we were sorry if we had trespassed on their space, but all we got in reply was a single word.”

"What was that, could you have misunderstood it?"

“No sirs. There was no room for misunderstandings. The word was simple enough - 'Insolent'. Then it tried to use our communications band to upload some sort of artificially intelligent computer virus which we barely managed to stop. We tried to escape into warp, but the ship... I don't know if it engaged some sort of field, or if it was always there. We haven't been able to study the sensor logs. Either way, it destabilized our warp field, and it was rapidly overtaking us at sublight speed.

We tried to fire a warning shot over its bow, a minimum yield Quantum torpedo, but this did not deter or even slow down the pursuing ship. It targeted our ship’s weapons and fired directly at us. Sirs, a single shot from that spinal beam weapon it was equipped with was enough to take out a quarter of our shield strength. We had little choice but to fire back.”

"Then what happened?" Keyes spoke up.

“It all happened fast. We couldn't achieve a positive lock on the ship. My best guess is that they use some sort of advanced ECM system powerful enough to scatter our automated targeting systems. We had to rely to manual aiming, which I must admit could have been more effective had our tactical officer been more experienced but he did his job well for someone used to scan for stellar anomalies rather than weak points in armor.

Even so, we may have missed with a lot of shots, but we hit them with lots too, sirs. It barely even scratched the paint job on the hostile, though we did manage to damage one of its... well, I'll have to call it a petal... which seemed to reduce its maneuvering ability somewhat. Enough so that we could briefly outmaneuver them.”

“I see.” West nodded and looked to Keyes. “Elisha, I want the hull damage of the Icarus examined closely, I want to know what kind of weapon these aliens have that can breach our shields that fast.”
“Of course, Sam.” Keyes wrote it down on her pad. “I want to check those sensor logs first though.”
“Good enough.” West replied. “Continue, Commander.”

“It took a while, sirs, and a whole lot of phaser blasts before we even made dents in the ship's armor. It seemed like its armor was almost impervious to our phasers, much like our own ablative neutronium armor, but better. Still, it had a weakness. The armor may have protected it well against our beam weapons, but it didn't protect fully against Quantum torpedoes set to maximum yield. The first one we fired only scored a glancing blow but took out most of its maneuvering ability as well as a chunk of that super armor of theirs. The other two impacted on the very same place and completely destroyed the ship.”

Jameson sighed and looked pleadingly at the two admirals. He wanted them to see, to understand what had actually happened, and wasn’t sure he was getting the entire picture through.

“Still, sirs, you must understand. The ship we went up against wasn't much smaller than the Icarus, but one thing I do remember clearly. We only read a single life form, and it was like nothing we've ever seen before. And something tells me this was just a test, or just a gesture that we weren't welcome. From what I've seen of the ships the other races here use, I doubt this was the largest ship this race has, and I also severely doubt that any other ship in this universe could have stood up to that kind of firepower.

Anyway. As soon as we could, we turned around and started heading back as fast as we could. We had to travel at impulse for almost an hour before subspace was calm enough to form a stable warp field. Even so we lost more than a quarter of our crew in the engagement, and I'm not surprised that the ship needs repairs. In fact I’m mostly surprised we made it back in as few pieces as we did, sirs. We've encountered a species that's very close to or possibly even beyond our own level of technology. And from what I’ve seen so far, they're not too friendly, sirs.”

"Very well, Jameson. Is there anything else you wish to add?" West was pale.
"Only one thing, Admiral. My crew performed far beyond what they were trained for. They should be commended."
"Understood. Dismissed, Commander."

Jameson saluted both Admirals again, and exited the room. Outside, he let out a sigh of relief. He'd been waiting to tell his story ever since the battle. It felt better that it was someone else's problem now.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 8


PROXIMA STATION


T’Pell was still a guest of Commander Patterson. The two had gotten to know each other quite well over the last few days, though this was truer for T’Pell than for Patterson. The latter had been very inquisitive, and to fill in the blanks T’Pell had to use his own memories of Andoria. He didn’t lie as such, but he did omit quite a lot of facts, something he suspected Patterson realized but didn’t show.

The Commander had a lot of duties though, and the Andorian found himself assigned to one of his aides, a young human called Sheridan. He found that he liked the young Lieutenant Commander of Earth Force. He didn’t ask too many questions about things T’Pell couldn’t give honest answers, and seemed friendly and open enough to discuss even the deepest points of view on diplomacy, ethics, morality and anything else T’Pell thought was good grounds for leisurely conversation.

Right now the Andorian Captain was standing next to one of the main view ports in the station’s outer ring. He found himself drawn to the reflective dots that hung in high orbit. The massive figures of what the humans called ‘Nova-class’ dreadnoughts. Even though they were primitive by his standards, the ships made true on their class name. What they lacked in technology, they made up for in size and numbers. He’d been surprised when he learned that its main armament was twin-linked plasma pulse cannons, short ranged and comparatively hard to aim, but amazed when he learned that an alpha strike with these guns consisted of no less than sixteen (!) of these being able to fire at the same target at the same time. Amazing what ingenuity these humans had.

Lost in thoughts, he didn’t hear the young Commander arrive.
“Am I disturbing you, T’Pell?” Sheridan’s voice startled T’Pell.
“No, John. I was just thinking.”
Sheridan looked out the view port.
“They’re intimidating, aren’t they?”
“Quite. Your race needs them?”
“Well, that depends on who you talk to. We did once, when we entered the Dilgar War, but since then they haven’t really seen much use.”
“I haven’t heard of this before?”
“The war? I’m surprised; it pretty much involved the entire sector.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Sure, though I can only tell you what’s in the history books as I wasn’t there when it happened. It was roughly ten years ago, though it started earlier than that.” A line formed on the young man’s forehead. “A race called the Dilgar decided to attack the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. Their reasons were simple enough, their own star was dying, but the war soon grew out of proportion to that.”
“How so?”
“Instead of stopping after they had done what they needed, conquering a few worlds to rescue their people, they attacked and conquered most of the League. The rumors of what happened to the races they conquered were gruesome enough to put us on high alert even though we were far out of the way of their war fleets.”
“Oh.” T’Pell didn’t have any trouble believing Sheridan’s story. The Alpha Quadrant had its fair share of xenophobic alien races that thought genocide was a good place to begin an occupation.”
“Their fleets were initially very successful, cutting through the scattered and unprepared League defenses with minor losses. There were a few exceptions, such as the Abbai and the Drazi, but in truth their expansion was only stopped when they finally attacked the Markab, a race Earth is allied with.”
“I see… then what?”
“Well, we entered the war.” Sheridan sighed. “It was a very close call that we managed to save the Markab at all, but we did, and we managed to win a devastating victory in that battle.”
“Judging by these ships outside, I have little doubt.”
“The Dilgar was overextended, fighting the war on several fronts, and in the end this proved a fatal strategy. We had already started mass-producing the behemoths you see out there, as well as the smaller Hyperion cruisers, in preparation for their aggression. Either way we met them in a classic line battle, and while they had the technological advantage their ships were weaker in terms of both armor and weapons than our dreadnoughts.”

Sheridan closed his eyes and tried to recall what else he’d read and heard.

“What happened then was the same as in most other wars when you fight too many opponents at once. In only just over a year we pushed them back to their own system and blockaded them there. There were a lot of close calls, as the Dilgar were good enough to adapt to our strategies and tactics after the first few defeats, and it took a lot of lives and a lot of materials. But in the end we won.”
“I understand. What happened to these Dilgar then?”
“Well, that’s the part we’re not so proud of. You see, we didn’t know about was the condition of the Dilgar star until after the war was over. A few years ago, it went nova and the race pretty much ceased to exist.”
“Oh…” T’Pell was shocked. He hadn’t heard this tale before, and it explained a lot.
“Since then we’ve been using what political and diplomatic capital we earned in that war in expanding our influence into the league, and continued to colonize worlds both in unclaimed space and inside our own borders. These ships…” he motioned to the view port “are today little more than a reminder of that war. They haven’t seen much action since and probably won’t any time soon either, their presence is enough to deter most other civilizations from picking a fight with Earth.”

The young man was interrupted as Commander Tolar entered. She gave a short nod to Sheridan and turned to T’Pell.

“Captain, a word if I may?” The Commander was speaking in an older dialect of Andorian, so the human couldn’t understand.
“What is it, Tolar?”
“We’ve received orders from Home. We need to return there as soon as possible.”
“Very well then.” T’Pell turned to Sheridan and offered him his hand in the standard human greeting. “I’m sorry but it seems I have to cut my visit short, Sheridan, but I will return as soon as I can.”
“You are always welcome here, Captain. Next time we should have a reply from EarthGov about that request you had.”
“Thank you, my friend. Now, I must leave.”


FLEET COMMAND
NEW PARIS
SIRIUS III


Not too long ago Admiral West had thought the size and capacity of the new conference rooms in the Fleet Command building to be drastically oversized for the now so equally drastically reduced amounts of personnel in the fleet compared to what Starfleet normally had. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore. He’d issued a full recall order to every starship Captain, and now he had all thirty-odd Captains along with most of their First Officers, Chief Engineers and Science Officers in the room. All in all with more than a hundred and twenty people attending, the room was now just about filled to capacity.

He looked around a bit; they were still waiting for a few more representatives but most were there. Keyes and Jahari were seated at his sides, both looking quite uncomfortable in their new uniforms and insignia. Much like West himself was, and his promoting the two Captains to the new Admiralty was as much an act of revenge on the two as it were two long and well deserved promotions.

West had known Elisha Keyes for most of his career, and was very familiar with both her and her service record. The fact that she hadn’t already been promoted to Admiral was mostly due to her own wish to remain in space rather than to have a desk job. Heron Jahari, previously Captain of the Gabriel, was more of an unknown factor. He’d been commended on several occasions for his tactical and strategic capabilities in the Dominion War, but had chosen the Captain’s chair of the Gabriel rather than ascending the ranks. Still, West had never served with him before the Romulan War, and had only met him on formal occasions since.

Their respective promotions had been fairly silent, with their First Officers taking over as acting Captains until permanent Captains were assigned. It was more of a formality than anything else though, as everyone knew there was few others than these first officers available, much less capable, to take over the two ships.

There had once been a well-used toast in the old British military, “Cheers to bad weather, unhealthy seasons and long, bloody wars”, the easiest ways for officers to get promoted. They’d had neither, but he doubted any plague, war or storm had ever taken out the entire staff overhead and support staff of a fleet before, with no replacements or deputies on hand to take over. Promoting these two to the rank of Admiral had caused the entire command structure of each of their ships to take a step upward. He doubted that anyone had complained.

Now, Keyes was stationed at Orbital Command on Aquilae Station, where she was responsible for all space-based missions, while Jahari was based here in New Paris, in charge of Research, Development and Construction. Areas he’d so far proven very successful in handling. It wasn’t enough to take the entire load off of West, but enough so that he’d have time to focus more on the overall strategic and civilian situation.

Taking a closer look at the gathered people, a collection of grey uniforms with their linings a rainbow of red, yellow and blue, he was quite proud that they handled their new situation as well as they did. He wasn’t so proud of himself though, he didn’t even know all of them by name, something he should have been expected to by now.

Finally, the last arrival came in the door. The Andorian uniform was quite different from its Starfleet comparison, but since there had barely been enough time for the crew of the Shran to make it back to Sirius, much less change, it was accepted and respected. T’Pell didn’t look too uncomfortable in the deviant uniform either, but had a rather satisfied look on his face as if he’d won some kind of victory. West almost smiled at this, T’Pell had always seemed uncomfortable in his usual Starfleet uniform even though he did it honor. Maybe this was a positive sign.

“Well then. As we’re all here, shall we get this meeting started?” West interrupted the casual conversations between the gathered officers. The room became almost entirely silent as he continued.

“As you all know by now, we have several things to discuss. Some of these more, some of these less important, but all of them need to be decided upon sooner rather than later. I’ve asked you all to come here to give your input, and your recommendations, on these issues.”

“First off, I’d like to announce some personnel changes. As you are all well aware by now, I’ve decided to promote Captains Keyes and Jahari to the rank of Rear Admiral. To replace them, I’ve come to the conclusion that their former First Officers, Commanders Carl Hansen and Sophia Clark, are the only people that can be considered for the positions. Congratulations, Commanders, you are both hereby and formally promoted to the rank of Captain, with the responsibilities and duties of that rank.”

He shook the hands of both new Captains.

“Furthermore, I’d like to formally grant Commander Jameson of the Icarus, who have performed the duty of Captain of that ship for the last six months, the permanent rank of Captain as well as formally change Colonel Kira’s rank to Captain as well now that there is no Bajoran or Federation red tape to wade through. I know it’s late, but better late than never, right Captains?”

More handshakes, though this time the celebration was much more controlled. Both had already been in command long enough to be viewed as Captains, formally correct or not.

“I recognize some may be surprised I didn’t decide to replace these people with either of our other Captains, Bryn and Jonah, but they’ve both been assigned to other positions more suitable to their skills. Captain Bryn will head the research department under Admiral Jahari, and Captain Jonah will be in charge of the orbital docks under Admiral Keyes. Both of them requested these assignments, knowing it would take them out of consideration for the captaincies of the Bellerophon and the Gabriel.”

As the noise in the room quieted down, West continued.

“That being finished, I’ll move on to our second and arguably most pressing issue. The race the Icarus encountered during its survey of the Centauri and Minbari border.”

West stood up and activated a monitor, showing an image of the Icarus, as it had looked 4 days ago when it arrived in the system. What little noise there had been in the room quieted down almost to the point where people stopped breathing. The image was terrifying enough for any of them, but what made it worse was that it looked more like the ship had been through a gauntlet of Romulan warships than in a dogfight with a single smaller enemy vessel. Not even a Defiant would do that kind of damage to a Nova that fast, and the Defiants were still famous for their frontal fire power.

“We know literally nothing about this race and as there is no reference to these ships, or even a species occupying the area of space which we entered, in any of the information we’ve been able to gather from the different races we’ve encountered, we must assume they know just as little as we do. What we have been able to find out is what we managed to salvage from the Icarus’ logs.”

West turned to the cat-like and graceful appearance of Admiral Jahari and motioned for him to take over.

“Ahem… thank you Admiral.” Jahari looked somewhat uncomfortable; he didn’t like public speeches, something quite unusual among Command Officers. “Well, we’ve only been able to ascertain a very limited amount of information from the Icarus’ sensor logs. What is most evident is what a simple ocular inspection would reveal.”

He brought attention to the large display with the battered image of the Nova class science vessel.

“As you can see the so-called ‘flower ship’ was able to inflict serious damage upon the Icarus. The ship in question used a kind of energy beam that we’ve never experienced the likes of before, and it seems to defy the laws of physics as we know them. While they were able to deflect much of the weapon’s energy, the shields were not able to fully absorb it and thus lost a lot of power in the process while letting a limited amount of the weapon’s energy actually pass through the shield bubble itself.“

“This weapon is both quite powerful and quite dangerous. We calculate each successive hit by the weapon drained a full third of the remaining shield strength, and what energy managed to pass through the shields had an effect on the outer hull much like a phaser beam, dissolving the hull at the molecular level. The beam weapon also disrupted whatever systems were located in or in close proximity to the area it hit.”

He turned away from the display for a moment.

“As I said earlier, we haven’t been able to ascertain much from the Icarus’ sensor logs, but this is what we’ve been able to find. Due to the largely unknown, both synthetic and biological, materials that make up the composition of this ‘flower ship’s hull, we haven’t been able to get accurate sensor readings of its insides. The entire ship seems to register as a life form, so we can’t get a reading on the amount of, or race of, the crew. The hull seems to regenerate damage to a point, much like the Borg regenerative armor, but also incorporates much of the function of our own ablative armor when it comes to phaser energy absorption. This makes our standard phaser settings almost useless, but we believe we can adapt the modulation to counter this.”

“In essence, we’re dealing with a race comparable or slightly superior in technology to ourselves, though their technology is quite probably fundamentally different in many areas. Among these difference is their obvious use of organic technology, which we aren’t entirely unfamiliar with, and their apparent mastery of subspace physics which I’m sad to say seems to exceed that of the Romulans themselves.”

He looked over to West, who retook control of the meeting.

“What we need to decide on now is what to make of this contact. As Admiral Jahari just informed us, this race is comparable to our own in technology, and seems isolationist considering the lack of information even their neighbors seem to have. Still, they also seem quite aggressive considering the less than friendly welcome the Icarus received. My recommendations would be to patrol the edge of their space and quietly observe and wait for them to take the next step, but considering we don’t know where this unknown race’s borders are exactly, we’d need to make a guesstimate. The risks of this are of course quite high.”

No one spoke up, the gathered personnel were busy enough trying to process what Jahari had told them about the possibly hostile race that had build that flower ship. They’d all been lulled into a false sense of security over the last four months as nothing had indicated that any native race had even close to a comparable level of technology to their own. That had changed quite quickly, and now they seemed more confused than anything else.

“There’s also the other issue we might have to deal with if we encounter them again. These flower ships seem to be able to distort subspace, making warp travel impossible when they’re around. This may well force us into a position where we have to defend ourselves if we encounter them, since they also have a higher top speed than any of our ships is able to get to without breaking a number of safety protocols. We have little information on this distortion field, and sensors have yet to reveal anything practically useful.”

Captain West suddenly spoke up.

“Well, I think your idea sounds about right, Admiral. We know far too little about this race and even if they’re isolationistic they’re still advanced enough to be a threat, or in the case they decide to make contact a possible worthy ally. We need to know more about them and their capabilities before we actually make a good decision. I’d personally recommend against sending anything less than a cruiser to this patrol zone though, considering how close the encounter was with a Nova.”
“Admiral, I’d like to volunteer myself and my ship.” Captain Cleves of the Venture spoke up. “My ship’s not the most advanced vessel we’ve got, but she’s proven herself big and bad enough to handle a little alien trouble.”

West looked at Cleves for a second; the older Captain of the Venture seemed almost expectant about this mission.

“Does anyone have any objections? No? Well then, mister Cleves, you’ve got yourself a patrol mission.”
“Thank you, Admiral.”
“That being concluded, we have a few other things to discuss as well. Elisha?”
“Yes Admiral. With the final construction being done on the last orbital docks, I want to issue a stand down order to the last of the people on board the Excelsiors, Sabers and Nebulas.”

This caused a bit of a stir among the others, or perhaps ‘riot’ would be better suited considering the rank and stature of the people.

“We’re at a crossroads, people, where we need to start looking to the future.” Elisha had to raise her voice to make her words audible over the ambient chatter. “It’s unrealistic to keep more than twenty percent of our population in space at all times, especially considering the circumstances.”
“What circumstances would that be, Admiral?” Sato of the Excelsior angrily interjected, his being one of the ships that would have to stand down.
“Well, for starters the fact that just about ten percent of the women in the fleet have reported being pregnant, and that’s just the ones we know of, and it’s not counting the ones already planet side. This single fact brings down our available manpower by at least seven percent, possibly more.”
“I see” was Sato’s only comment. “I suppose that was unavoidable.”
“This means that for us to be able to fully man the most useful starships, meaning our light cruisers and destroyers, we’ll need to place most of the other ships in mothballs for now. The exception to this would be the Sovereigns, since these are the most advanced ships and also the ones that give the most bang for the buck, so to say, that we have at this time.”

West took over again.

“It’s not as much a question of age, technology or anything else. We’re in a protected area of space surrounded by less advanced races, with only a limited amount of people. We have to adjust our priorities according to this. As the last of the docks are finished most of the ships will be stood down but on ready alert. I believe it unnecessary to keep more than eight or ten ships active at any time unless the overall situation changes.”

The room was utterly quiet. There are few things that can dampen the mood of a Starfleet Captain, as they were well known for keeping their spirits high even when fighting a losing battle or travelling out into unexplored space for months, even years at a time, but being told to stand down and get grounded was definitely one of those things.

“I do understand your reactions as Captains of these ships. You won’t lose your commands, but as Admiral Keyes said, we need to look to the future. To be able to man our starships as well as man the support facilities needed, we need more people. People we haven’t got at the moment. And even if each and every woman would bear children, it would still take years for us to get there. Years we don’t have right now.”
“Admiral… Are you suggesting something else?” T’Pell raised the question.
“No, Captain, I’m not. I’m just making a point. I’ll draw up a rotational schedule for the ships that will stay active, and which will be mothballed for now. The crews not on active duty will be reassigned to the New Paris command, where they will be working on research and development. There are a lot of new technologies in this universe, and we need to be able to understand them better.”
“I see, sir.” The Andorian replied. “I suppose the Shran won’t be one of the ships standing down then.”
“Are you kidding, T’Pell?” Jahari raised an eyebrow. “Your ship and crew are vital to the gathering of these technologies.”
“However.” West raised a hand. “Sato, Michaels, Gashar… I realize the proud history of the Excelsior class. I also realize you’ll dislike this decision. However, I’m extending Keyes’ stand down order for your ships. They will dock at the Type 4 Spacedocks, not to be deactivated but rather to be deconstructed.”

This raised quite a lot of commotion from the three Captains, as well as their senior staff. West had to stand up and raise both of his hands to quiet them down.

“Please. I’m sorry to say, but with the fleet we’ve got, the Excelsiors are the least advanced ships we have in space at this time. They’ve served way past their initial intended service period, and been pushed into service again and again due to the conflicts back home. Here we’re in a different situation however, and with the amount of problems your ships have due to their age I can’t justify keeping them any longer.”
“But sir, with all due respect we need every ship we have in case those flower ships turn up.” Sato tried.
“True, but if they can beat through the shields of a Nova, whose later generation shield emitters has a shield strength comparable to those of your Excelsior, and newer if not more phasers than you do, how much help do you think the Excelsior would be in a battle?”

Sato bowed his head in silent agreement. It wasn’t a fact he liked, but he knew it was true.

“I respect the service your ships have performed over the years; they’ve been vital in many battles and won entire wars for the Federation. Now, their time is past. However, I can also see the need for newer ship designs. I want you and your engineering teams to work closely with the ground teams at Research and Development. I’m not suggesting you stand down permanently.”

West took a deep breath and ordered his thoughts to make his point more clear.

“One of the things that made me call not only the command staff in here, but also the science and engineering officers of the entire fleet, is that one of the things I’ll assign you to do is to create a new ship design. We’ve all seen the footage of the Earth Alliance’s Nova-class. While I admit these ships are far inferior to even our smallest ships in technology they do have a good point in their design. They, ladies and gentlemen, are designed for one thing and one thing only and that’s the artillery role in large scale space battles, a role none of our ships is designed to fill but rather we rely on our speed and maneuverability.”
“We all know the advantages of having a number of these on the battlefield.” Keyes added. “We’ve all been up against armed Space Stations and fixed defense satellites in battle, and we know how devastating they can be to our lighter ships. What we propose is less of a classic starship and more of a mobile fortress.”

Jahari took a sip of water before he added his thoughts to the table.

“We want a dreadnought class ship that can fill this role. The basic parameters are simple. A lot of firepower and a lot of armor, along with a limited crew requirement. Beyond that it’s up to you what you do with these ships. You know what technologies we have, and you know which technologies we’ve seen the native races use and more importantly, how they use them. Do your best to convince me to accept your design.”


NEW PARIS
SIRIUS III
NOVEMBER 14, 2243


West looked at the beautiful Captain with shock and dismay in his face. He’d just gotten some news he’d never expected to hear, not from her at least.

“Jesus. Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Sheila?”
“I didn’t know for certain until yesterday, Samuel.” She said and looked down. “I didn’t want to bring it up until I’d gotten my suspicions verified.”
“Yes, but it’s been months already! You must have had some idea, I mean, it’s not something that just happens overnight!”
“I know. It’s just… there’s been a lot of other things that’s come up as well, things that kept me busy enough not to really notice until lately. Well, I guess I always did though, I just didn’t want to think about it.”

The Admiral was still in a sort of shellshock, the news his dear friend had given him was something he’d never expected to hear. He’d never had the intentions or the expectations.

“So, what do you want to do?”
“Well, it’s too late to do anything about it, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t, by the way. I’ll just have to go with nature on this one. I’m sorry, Samuel.”
“Sorry? Why?”
“I didn’t know if…”
“Sheila… I understand that this wasn’t what either of us had intended, but it’s not something you should blame yourself for. If anything, it’s my fault. I took advantage when you were still mourning.”

She looked away and was silent for a minute.

“It’s not what I had planned, no. I’m not sorry that it happened though, I’m not getting any younger you know, and it’s probably for the best.”
“But…”
“I had plans with Justin, Sammy, that’s true. But Justin’s dead, I’ve already let him go. I need to see to the future, and while I still mourn him, and always will, he’s in the past now.”

She turned around and looked straight at him.

“Plus, I might add. The reason I went with Justin in the first place was that you were always my superior officer. Regulations would always have gotten in our way, not to mention long distance relationships rarely give time for a family life.”
“They may still, you know.”
“Yes, but by now there’s not much they can do you know.” She had kind of a mysterious smile. “Sometimes, the written word has to bend to reality. Plus, not only are you the senior officer in the entire galaxy, there’s no board of inquiries in New Paris, nor any admirals to conduct a court martial either. I wonder what my old mom would think about me getting it together with the chief of Starfleet himself.”

West didn’t know what to say, so he just embraced the only slightly younger Captain. One thing was true at least; neither of them was getting any younger. Whatever decisions the future might hold, he knew that this one was already out of his hands. He was used to being in control, but just like Sheila had said, there wasn’t much either of them could do about it. But what the hell, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

He lifted the woman into his arms and gave her a gentle kiss.

“And may I ask the Captain how she intends to pursue this?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Admiral.” The smile changed a bit. “There’s always room for one’s commanding officer to make suggestions.”

With that, they both joined in a much more passionate kiss. Yes, the Admiral thought. Sometimes reality is the only thing that matters. There wasn’t much choice in the matter except how he’d handle it, and he already knew what he wanted to do about it.

Wanted. Wanted had little to do with it either at this point, though it helped. Regulations be damned, he already knew what he had to do.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 9


USS VENTURE, COMMAND BRIDGE
UNEXPLORED SPACE


The Venture was cruising through space at a leisurely Warp 5, much slower than the 9.9 War-refit Galaxy class was actually able to go. It was an unfortunate necessity though, since the stronger warp field that was necessary for higher speeds could easily be detected at a longer range and right now stealth was far more important than speed.

They’d been ordered to investigate the area where the Icarus had been attacked during its survey run. The choice should have been easy, even if Captain Cleves hadn’t volunteered for it. The only Starfleet ship equipped with even close to the same scientific sensors and equipment as a Nova was the Galaxy class. Not only that, but it was also much heavier armed, shielded and had more tactical options in case of enemy attack. And, of course, there was the phase cloak.

"Captain."
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"We're approaching the coordinates we received from the Icarus logs."
"Good, slow to impulse. Tactical, cloak us. Ops, give me a full spectrum scan."
"Aye, sir."

The bridge lights dimmed as the ship cloaked. It wasn't really necessary, but it was a long standing tradition that went back to the old submarines back on Earth. It let the crew know that the ship was hiding, and as such made them less inclined to do things that could be detected from outside. Of course, it was largely pointless since at the time the tradition had begun that had been sounds and the crew would have to whisper or stay very still to avoid making any noise the enemy could hear, while here in space sound didn’t carry very well nor were they actually visible in anything but the smallest of subspace spectra.

They didn’t even have to worry about running into anything, as the phase cloak allowed them to literally go right through unphased objects. It was still avoided though, as the results of the phase cloak malfunctioning while inside another object could be quite… messy.

"Keep your eyes and ears open people, we don't want to attract undue attention but let's not miss anything either as long as we can avoid it."
"Aye, sir."

They'd been tasked with a dangerous but vital mission; to recon the area where the Icarus was attacked, and to gather intelligence about this mysterious power that was possibly just as advanced as they were.

“Ops, Anything on sensors?”
“Nothing yet, sir.”
“Very well. Helm, keep us on a course for the closest star system. Let’s take it slow and steady, say, warp 2.”
“Aye, Captain. Warp 2.”

What struck Cleves as odd was that neither the Centauri nor Minbari had any data on the space ahead, even though it was close enough to their borders for them to have entered it before. Maybe they couldn’t reach these places with their FTL technology? The theory wasn’t unsound, they’d found out that was the reason the local humans hadn’t colonized Sirius or the inner Alpha Centauri planets. They simply couldn’t get there.

Strong gravitational forces had some kind of effect on their ability to enter or exit that ‘Hyperspace’ as they called it and that made it impossible for them to enter systems with large binary or even the smallest ternary stars or, as in the case of Sirius, a neutron star.

But both the Centauri and Minbari were more technologically advanced than the humans though, and there was ample proof that at least the latter had colonized binary systems, even one with a small but remote ternary star not unlike Alpha Centauri. Either way, his mission wasn’t to philosophize, even though he found it hard not to at times.

“Helm, what’s our ETA?”
“Just over 10 minutes, Captain.”

Cleves leaned back in his command chair and reviewed the last systems log, something he’d made a habit of ever since they were dumped into this reality. That way he’d be one step ahead when something needed replacing or maintenance, and even though they had built enough infrastructure to make replacements it could still take a while to get spare parts manufactured. Not like back home, he thought, where there’d be enough spare parts stockpiled at Utopia Planetia to construct at least two whole new Galaxies from.

Everything seemed to be working according to specs though, so he looked back to the view screen.

“Captain, we’re approaching the target system.”
“Good. Status on the phase cloak?”
“Active, sir, and functioning according to normal parameters.”
“Very well. Slow to impulse, Lieutenant. Let’s see what’s out there”
“Aye, sir.”

They were still too far out from the system to get very accurate readings, but the system still looked nice enough. From this distance the star was little more than a little ball of red light behind the rocky belt that made up the system’s Oort cloud. Cleves had always liked looking at red stars; they were more pleasing to his eyes than the brighter yellows or whites, even though Sol still had a very special place in his heart. There was really nothing like seeing that star grow on the horizon as you cruised back home after a long time in outer space.
He shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. Damn homesickness.

“Anything on sensors yet?”
“Nothing certain, still too far out for a positive reading, Captain.”
“Well, get us in closer then, but try to stay in the shadows.”

As they entered the system there were still no signs or habitation or artificial structures, but those readings were hard to trust. At extreme ranges it was hard to get an accurate reading on anything close to any gravity well as large as a planet or moon, not to mention a star. He remembered that was one of the biggest reasons they’d missed the Dominion intelligence satellites near Betazed until it was already too late, they had simply been too close to the sun.

The system itself however was already completely mapped as planets and larger asteroids were clearly visible to the sensors even light weeks away. There were only a few planets left in the system, no doubt due to the star going into its red giant state. There had probably been a dozen or so planets in solar orbit at one time, but now there were only a half-dozen left and the ones that remained were mostly Jovian, with one exception.

A single planet that registered as solid and that the computers decided that its orbit might support life, though it wouldn’t be very pleasant to humanoids.

“Helm, move us towards that solid planet.”
“Aye sir, coming to new course 23 mark 5.”
“Sensors, still nothing?”
“No… wait… Captain, we’re reading something in orbit. Readings are unclear but there’s definitely something there.”

Cleves rose from his chair and went over to the Ops console to take a look at the display.

“Damn. What the hell is that thing?”
“Unknown sir, not surprisingly there’s no record in the computer of anything even remotely like it.”
“Are we in visual range?”
“Barely, sir.”
“On main viewer, maximum magnification.”
“Aye, sir.”

It was a structure, it had to be. Nothing nature could come up with could be that large, or have that orbit. It registered as being more than ten miles end to end and more than five miles wide. Still, what made no sense, no sense at all, the sensors showed it as a life form. Organic technology was all nice and good, there’d been a lot of races in the Alpha Quadrant using it, but it had always had one problem. It had always failed to produce anything larger than a destroyer size ship or station, anything larger than that had always had to be constructed as partially inorganic to give structure and stability. This… thing… didn’t seem to suffer that weakness however, as it showed none of the decisively ugly shapes of internal framework through its hide.

The Venture came in closer to the orbital; the ship, even though one of the largest ever constructed by Starfleet, was easily dwarfed by the massive object. It didn’t look like anything Cleves had ever seen before. The entire structure was covered in what looked like a green and yellowish skin, with moving black and dark spots and patterns.

“Life signs?”
“It’s hard to tell, sir. The hull of the orbital seems to scatter our sensors, and it doesn’t really help that the object itself has life signs of its own.”
“What about on the planet?”
“Also unknown. There are definitely artificial structures down there, but the computer is having trouble identifying what’s what.”
“So if there is life down there, it’s not what we’re used to?”
“Correct, sir. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say protoplasmic or possibly energy-based life. Either way our sensors aren’t exactly calibrated to distinguish that kind of life signs. They’re quite uncommon back home, you know.”

The Captain was silent in thought for a moment, until suddenly an opening formed in the side of the orbital, allowing several smaller objects to exit.

“Do we have any kind of visual ID on those smaller objects?”
“Well… Yes and no, sir.”
“Ehm, can you explain that assessment?”
“Well, sir, there’s two different kinds of them. The smaller matches the configuration of the flower ship that attacked the Icarus, but the larger ones, while similar in design and appearance, are a new kind.”
“Well, they’re ships then, which would make the larger object their version of a Starbase.
“Yes, sir, or a hatchery.”
“Don’t start.” Cleves sighed. “Let’s hope it works the way we think it should and is what we think it is, and not add even more flavor to the bad news we have to carry back either way.”

A Federation Starbase was considered a huge structure in space by definition of any and all the Alpha and Beta quadrant races back home. Even then this unknown race had built something that dwarfed it by at least four times. A magnificent achievement, though still quite terrifying. He hoped his science officer was wrong, if this was some kind of orbital construction yard for those ships there’d be ample room and no telling how many of those ships could be under construction or just berthed inside.

Cleves looked out at the small cloud of ships that had by now exited the structure.

“Lord. How many of them are there?”
“Best estimate is twelve of the smaller and two of the larger.”
“And a single one of the ‘smaller’ ships crippled a Nova.”
“Yes, sir. I’d strongly recommend against making our presence known.”
“Nervous, Commander?”
“No, Captain, but while I’d expect we’d do well against a handful of the smaller ships, the larger ones worry me. We have an idea about the capabilities of the smaller ones but the big ones? I don’t know. They could be just capable as the small ones, or just transports for all I know, but if they’re their version of a cruiser, I’d expect an encounter would be less than ideal.”
“Well, Commander. For once I agree with you.”
“Thank you, sir.” The science officer smiled. “Nice to know not all Captains think with their balls.” He added to himself with a silent voice.

Looking at the ships there was a measure of awe across the entire bridge. Even in the best days of the Federation they’d never have more than a dozen ships or so assigned to any given Starbase. In war-time, there’d be even less discounting any battle fleet making a quick stop to resupply or receive repairs or maintenance. The exceptions to this rule were critical strategic positions and Earth itself, which was usually guarded by an entire fleet in war time, but these were exceptions.

“We’re not getting anything from our sensors are we?”
“Barely, sir, and what we are getting back we need more time to sort through.”
“Damn.” Cleves scowled. “We still can’t even be sure if this is their home planet or just an outpost?”
“Not entirely.” Science replied. “Though I’d be surprised if this was their homeworld.”
“Why?”
“Simple.” Science pointed to his display. “I can’t see the population down there, but judging by the amount and state of those structures, as well as the available resources, I’d expect an outpost. The planet’s pretty barren, and there’s no way this planet has supported any kind of life for more than at most a few thousand years.”
“I see.” Cleves nodded, but asked anyways. “Why is that?”
“Sir.” Science explained. “No more than four or five millennia ago this planet was a dead rock in space consisting of a rocky core covered in frozen methane and carbon dioxide. The solar expansion caused them to vaporize and create that sludge of an atmosphere. No way had life developed there before that, and this race is too advanced. There's no way these aliens are native to an ecology that young, it’d take millions of years for them to develop.”
“Very well.” Cleves nodded. He’d guessed that, but he was grateful for the confirmation. “Helm, there’s nothing left to do here. Get us out of here; we have what we came for. Warp 2.”
“Aye, sir. Plotting a new course, 173 mark 350, back through the Oort cloud.”
“Good. Engage.”


FLEET COMMAND
SIRIUS III


It’d been a strange day, more than anything else. He’d announced his and Sheila’s decisions regarding their future and though most reactions had been positive, he’d yet to hear from the one he was worried about until now. Keyes’ face was stern, and she looked irritated more than anything else. Well, that was Keyes in a nutshell.

“Admiral.”
“Admiral. How can I help you, Elisha?”
“Just thought I’d come down and pay my respects. I heard about your latest, decision, and thought I’d at least look you in your face when I said; ‘Idiot.’”
“Heh, you sure that calling your superior officer mentally deficient doesn’t count towards insubordination, Elisha?” He smiled awkwardly.
“I’m quite sure, Samuel. What the hell were you thinking?!”
“Well, I deserved that, I think. To tell you the truth, there were a lot of things involved at the time, but thinking wasn’t really one of them. And yes, I know, it’s wrong by Starfleet regulation. But, in my defense, Starfleet is a long way away from here.”

The last part was getting increasingly hard to miss. Normally, fraternizing among the crew or officers was something that was mainly overlooked by the Starfleet rules, but when it came to fraternizing with people under your command there were strict rules that applied. Rules that any Captain would attest to just became increasingly harder to enforce in his people’s current situation.

“Still, you should have…”
“Should have what, Elisha? Told her that no, no way, I can’t take responsibility for my actions?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what you want me to do, isn’t it?”
“Well… no, I mean, you shouldn’t have done what you did in the first place.”
“True, but that’s not something I can go back and change, and even if I could, I’m not sure I would.”
“In a sense I suppose you’re right, but it’s still wrong. It sets a bad example for the rest of the crews.”
“Too bad, I can’t do much about that.”
“I know. Thus my first statement is mostly correct. ‘Idiot’.”

Elisha Keyes smiled for the first time this afternoon, she’d known that she’d never change the senior Admiral’s mind, and there was really little reason to do so. Everyone already knew, and it’s one thing to break something up before the fact, it’s a totally different thing to try to do it after the fact. And in the case of Samuel and Sheila, it was more like jousting windmills. She’d known they had both had feelings for each other for the past decade or so, but had always kept them under control. In their current situation she couldn’t really blame them for losing that last measure of control either.

“Either way, to make your conscience a little lighter, she’s not one of my subordinates.” West made a little laugh. That was something Keyes hadn’t thought of.
“Hmm? And how, may I ask, did you come to that conclusion?”
“Easy. She’s assigned to Space Command. That’s your department, not mine. And while I can give you orders, I can’t treat her unfairly or give special treatment since all my orders to her would go through you.”

His smile was far too wide and far too planned for Elisha’s warning lights not to go off.

“You’ve already given this some thought, haven’t you, Samuel.”
“Some, granted, but I know you, Elisha, and I knew that the minute I announced our plans, you’d be here trying to rip something out of me. Quite possibly the parts that caused this mess in the first place.”
“Well, that’s true. Oh, okay, at least you know your actions have consequences. Now, what will you do about all of this?”
“Exactly what I stated before. I’ve already asked her, and she’s accepted. I’m going to marry Sheila, Elisha, and I was going to ask you to perform the ceremony.”
“Oh? Why me?”
“My turn to say ‘Idiot’ now? You’re one of my best friends, Elisha. We’ve known each other for how long?”
“Some twenty years.” Keyes looked at him with renewed respect. “I know, Samuel.”
“So why are you surprised? Only an Admiral can wed a Captain, and I’ll be otherwise engaged.”
“Yes, that’d be correct I guess.”
“So, I need another Admiral, which means you or Jahari. And I don’t know Heron well enough.”
“All right, all right. I fold, Samuel. I’ll perform the ceremony. I still have my reservations though.”
“Of course you do, and I understand them, and promise to overlook the same reservations when you find someone too.”

She blushed, a deep, honest blush.

“You know full well that’s not one of my priorities, Samuel.”
“Of course not. It’s one of those things that just happen.”
“Bah. Men.”
“Aye, but aren’t we charming?”

She almost looked humored, but then she regained her composure. It wasn’t often Keyes showed her emotions, but for one who knew how to both trigger and read them, she was just as much an open book as any other human. West broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Either way, I haven’t been topside for a few days now. What’s the status of the Excelsiors?”
“Going according to plans thus far. The Excelsior has been stripped of her outer hull, the Franklin just came into dock and the Berlin is almost down to her framework by now.”
“Good, have the engineering and science teams come up with any bright ideas as of yet?”
“Jahari’s in charge of that, but I’m receiving a few reports that he wants my input on.”
“May I ask what you’ve heard?”
“Well, to be honest there are a lot of ideas flying around, and I can’t say which are and which aren’t actually feasible. I can only give an idea of what an experienced command officer thinks of the function of the ideas.”
“Still?”
“There’s a lot of discussion about implementing both holographic and android extensions of the ship’s computer, as well as building a much extended AI and computer core. All of them designed to reduce the crew necessary to operate the ships.”
“Oh? That sounds like a really good idea. Do they have anything to work from?”
“Yes, and something I know at least a little about. You know about the EMH?”
“The emergency medical holographic system? Sure, I was there when it was first unveiled.”

He smiled a little when he remembered the Doctor, Janeway’s EMH, who’d made himself not only unique but also historical as he step by step not only achieved true sentience, but also fought for and managed to get legislature passed in the Federation Council to acknowledge that very sentience in holographic entities. He and Commander Data had been vital in the struggle for artificial life forms receiving the same treatment as biological ones.

“Yes, it’s also been discovered that it can and will attain sentience if left activated long enough.”
“Mm, I remember Kathryn telling me about it, and my complete surprise when I actually met her EMH on a social function. That’s old news though.”
“True. What’s less known is the idea that the Doctor had for a holographic captain, the ECH protocol. Janeway decided not to pursue the idea, but we believe the idea has its point.”
“I see. I look forward to see the idea in action.”
“What they’re proposing is that we expand on the idea a bit and actually integrate it into the main computer, as well as include several android bodies to each of the ships.”
“You mean like having several Data’s on the ships? I can live with that, I served with him in the beginning of my career.” More memories started to come back to the Admiral’s mind, of a fellow officer that had been gone for several years by now. “However, I was under the assumption that we couldn’t build a good enough positronic brain yet?”
“We can’t, sorry. But these androids wouldn’t be independent like Data was, just an extension of the main computer operated by remote control, more like drones.”
“Oh.”
“They wouldn’t be sentient either, or even intelligent, but they would be able to help with damage control and other non-automated functions. They wouldn’t need food, or even air, and that way we’ll need about a third of the normal crew to operate the ships.”
“I see… it sounds like a good idea. Tell that team to work on the idea, and especially to work on implementing it on other ships as well. We might need to reduce the overall crew sizes fairly soon, and I’d hate to have to park any more of our ships if something was to happen.”

The truth in the last statement was something both of them knew much about. Sooner or later there’d be a baby boom on Sirius III. Already almost a quarter of the serving female crew reported at least signs of pregnancy, and at least half of these were confirmed. The reason all of them weren’t was simple, they didn’t have enough doctors to confirm them. The first would have their children in less than three months, and were already signing papers for maternity leave.

Keyes wasn’t sure how it looked on the planet, but if the situation in space was anything to go by; they’d have not a few hundred, but several thousands of babies born in the coming year. What made this worse was that children required a lot of manpower, from the medical personnel to the nurseries to schools and so on. They’d even have to start looking at building a whole new academy sooner or later to replace the existing crew.

“I know what you’re thinking, Elisha. And don’t worry; it’s already on the drawing board.”
“Huh?”
“Schools and academies.”
“How did you…?”
“Elisha, don’t you know I’ve known you long enough to read your mind.”
“So I see.”
“To get back to our original topic, anything else close to an at least understandable idea reached your desk?”
“Well, not really. I’ve denied a few ideas, such as implementing separation or multi-vector systems to the ships, as well as some alternate power sources.”
“Such as?”
“Quantum singularities, just to mention one.”
“Good.” West made a sour face. “I never liked them even in Romulan ships. Doesn’t leave much behind when the core breaches.”
“Nor does a warp core, Sammy.”
“True, but at least we get a warning first.”
“Well, that’s true. Sometimes.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing really new. Some are looking into the quantum slipstream drives again, but I don’t know whether they’ll make any new progress or not.”
“I see. Not too promising?”
“Too early to tell, though I seriously doubt the old Excelsior frames would be able to mount them even if they’re rebuilt. They’d have to start from scratch.”
“I guess we’ll see.”
“Yup. Sooner or later.”

That was as true as it got. West hadn’t really expected too much when he asked his people to look at a completely new ship design, but had rather intended it as a way to keep people’s minds occupied. It was bad enough that depression was commonplace among the people they had evacuated; he didn’t need it spreading throughout the fleet as well. This helped, and there was even a large pile of requests from the evacuees to join the construction and development teams. Most were approved, even though he doubted the extra manpower would make much difference.

“So, if that’s the end of the official business, can I offer you something to drink, Elisha?”
“Please. A raktajino, boiling hot.”


USS DARWIN
HIGH POLAR ORBIT OF DRACONIS III
SIGMA DRACONIS SYSTEM


The Darwin was assigned to do a detailed sweep of the Earth borders, both to verify the maps they had drawn up so far as well as gather more intelligence about other solar systems they hadn’t had time to explore yet. They hadn’t gone far until they reached the Sigma Draconis system, in their own reality the system was home to three class M planets housing two different pre-warp societies, while the third had once housed a third that had disappeared millennia ago.

They had expected the system to be either empty or claimed by one of the different powers that lined the system, considering the fact that the system had a single orange main-sequence star. From the best of their knowledge this stellar configuration allowed even the most primitive ‘jump drives’ as they were called to travel here.

Upon arriving, they’d soon received a nasty shock. The system was definitely inhabited, or at least one of the planets was, but there was no proof of there being any kind of jump gate, orbital weapons platforms, space stations or anything else that depicted a FTL society. Nothing except an antimatter energy signature.

“Well, T’Var, any clarification?”
“No, Captain. Only verification. This people really are human”
“How can that be? There’s no evidence this society has ever reached FTL capability, not even the bastardized version the native races use. There’s no jump apparatus, and where is that antimatter signature coming from if these people aren’t even capable of creating it yet?”
“As I said, I don’t know. I’d say they’re comparable to approximately your late 20th to early 21st century development wise.”
“And still they haven’t explored space. Interesting.”
“That’s largely a false assumption, Captain. There are ample amounts of artificial satellites in orbit around the planet, as well as a number of structures on the two moons that would suggest early stages of colonization.”

How could this be? Neither his own humanity nor the local humans had colonized space that early in their history, and even though the Preservers had transferred some of the humans to other planets, they’d evolved at more or less the same rate as their Earth-based brethren. Could there be another race in this reality that manipulated just as much as the Preservers?

“Well then, that’s something to add to our report.”
“Captain?”
“A pre-warp human civilization, just outside the domain of the Earth Alliance but with no visible ties to them. That constitutes news, but with evidence of a low level antimatter reaction that constitutes a real enigma. The Earth Alliance doesn’t have antimatter technology, in fact it’s a very rare technology in this universe, so the big question is where they got it from.”
“True.” T’Var’s facial expression changed as new lines appeared on his display. “From what I’m reading though, we’d want to take this directly to the Admiral.”
“Why so?”
“I’m reading a tritanium alloy in the northern polar region close to where the antimatter signature is located. In other words, there’s wreckage down there, and it’s not native to the local Earth. Genetic scans would confirm this.”
“T’Var. Make sense, that’s an order.”
“Captain, from all the evidence our sensors can gather, I’d presume that they’re Federation. Not Earth Alliance.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m Vulcan. I never ‘joke’. You know that.”
“How long have they been here?”
“Well, I’m not sure, and before you ask I’m not sure how they got here either.”
“Best guess, T’Var.”
“More than three hundred years, probably more like five to seven. Not long enough to lose their technology though.”
“Jesus. That’s… hard to imagine. Still, if they’re Federation they should be more than a pre-warp civilization. Some of their technology obviously survived, such as that antimatter reactor we’re detecting, and their computer banks should be at least partially salvageable even in the worst of crashes.”
“I suppose so, sir. Still, I have no answers to those conundrums.”
“How many of them are there?”
“Scanners can’t get an exact amount, but at least several million.”

Millions. There was a whole civilization here of his own people. How and why they had gotten here would possibly have been lost in the sands of time, but maybe there were some answers to be had either way. There was wreckage, maybe there’d be information there? Maybe someone had records or something like that. Knowing humankind there was answers to be had; he just needed to know where to look. And, more importantly, if he was allowed to.

“Lieutenant, set a course back to Sirius. We need to let the Admirals know. Warp 9.5.”
“Aye, sir. Warp 9.5.”

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 10


ADMIRAL WEST’S RESIDENCE
NEW PARIS, SIRIUS III
CHRISTMAS EVE


The computerized beep only needed one or two attempts to fully rouse him from his sleep. Even though he’d slept for just over six hours, he was still feeling tired and unlike many of his colleagues, he’d never been much of an early bird. This was not least evident in his scheduling most meetings and conferences in the afternoon rather than in the morning, which worked out nicely since both other Admirals had usually cleared most of their own busy schedules by then.

His scheduling preferences was probably in everyone else’s best interests as well, as his staff would normally be available should he need or request something, but should he not they were spared his foul morning mood which was quickly becoming legendary throughout the Fleet Command Complex.

Not that it mattered today. He sleepily remembered that it was Christmas Eve, a day that he’d always looked forward to as the only day he’d be able to take a break from his duties in the Fleet and visit his retired parents back home on Earth. Not that he’d be able to do so this year. His parents may only have been light years away, relatively speaking, but that didn’t really help. He wouldn’t see them again until they found a way back home, and judging by how much the scientists he’d seen had shook their heads at the bare idea, he didn’t even believe it possible anymore.

Still, they had started a new life here now, and most had at least tried to leave the past behind. He’d been surprised at the low amount of publicity his own, some would say questionable, choices had received, but on the other hand, he could see why. People understood him. They did the same themselves.

“Honey, wake up. She’s seven in the morning and we need to get up.”

He caressed the face beside him, trying to get her conscious as gently as possible. In absence of other his parents, uncles and cousins, his brother and fiancé were the only two people he could call family anymore. She stirred slowly, not wanting to leave whatever dream she was dreaming behind. It must’ve been a good one, he thought, as her still face was smiling.

“Sammy, I really don’t want to.” She made a soft protest through a small yawn.
“Doesn’t matter honey, no matter how much we want it to, the world doesn’t wait for us you know.”
“Damn the world then.”
“You know… cursing it won’t work either. I could ask the doctors, but I’m fairly sure the planet doesn’t have ears. And, for that sake, if it had I’m quite sure it wouldn’t care too much.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little, and then she threw her pillow at him as payment for his bad humor. He easily avoided the flying object and made a face at her.

“I don’t want to get up. It’s Christmas, and I never liked Christmas even back home.”
“Oh?” He was surprised. ”Why not?”
“Bad memories, plus, I never liked Santa.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Never liked Santa? How come?”
“I don’t know. Mostly because he’d always give me the dolls and stuff, while my brothers got the model starships and Klingon action figures.”
“And I suppose little Sheila didn’t like that, did she?”
“It was a damn waste of replicator energy. My younger brother’s a psychiatrist and my older brother’s a chef. Neither even set foot on a starship, much less the Academy grounds. In fact, I doubt either ever left Quebec.”
“Really, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, I guess they might have gone to San Francisco by now… if they’ve had our memorials yet.”

The mention of a memorial service, which had no doubt been several months ago by now, brought on another of Sheila’s more and more common mood swings. She was very fond of her family back home, and the thought of never seeing them again was hard for her to bear. Thin rivers of tears started to make their way down her cheeks and as they landed on the sheets, the dark blue fabric turned just a little bit darker.

“Hush now, honey. We’re still here no matter what they think back home. And I know they know that as well. It’s like a bond between people in a family that will transcend any distance.”
“I know, but…”
“Don’t worry about it.” He gently brushed some of her hair away and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. “Focus on today, and everything will be fine. You know what today is?”
“You keep reminding me.”
“Good, then you know there’s just a week left on this year. The next one will be better. You’ll see.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Sammy… I’ll hold you to that.”

He helped her out of bed and into the dining room, where he ordered their usual breakfast from the replicator, and they sat down in relative silence while eating and updating their pads. Neither of them was ever completely off duty, even on a day such as this. He got reports on the overall situation, as well as situation reports from all the smaller divisions. She ‘only’ got continuous reports about the status and progress of the Independence, which was enough to fill her workday.

They’d have to look into getting a replacement for her on board though. Another two or three months and she wouldn’t be able to focus on her work anymore, not to mention how hard that’d be after that. Not that it was too hard finding a replacement, what was difficult was trying to convince Sheila that she’d need one. She’d never even considered the consequences for her captaincy that a pregnancy would have before Samuel and Elisha pretty much forced her to. She’d make a very good mother though. He was certain about that.

She started to say something before she’d completely swallowed her bite of sandwich, but started coughing as she did. A few seconds and a soft blush later she tried again.

“Sammy, what’s your plan about all of this? About us?”
“About you and me?”
“No… about all of us. About all the people that were stranded here in this damned parody of home.”
“Oh.” He scratched the stubble on his chin.
“There’s so much we’ve done here, but it’s all been just to get here, to get settled down and to be able to survive another day. It’s not life as we know it though, is it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“I mean, we’re all Starfleet officers, with only a few exceptions. We didn’t sign up for becoming colonists, or factory workers, or farmers. We wanted to be in space.”
“I know.”
“But that’s not where we are, is it? As far as I know only the Venture and the Darwin are even outside the system, much less exploring.”
“True.”
“Then what’s the point?”

He finished drinking his cup of coffee, and then gazed into the beautiful brown eyes of his fiancé.

“The point? Right now it’s to survive. To live to see another day. To rebuild what we lost and to make a future. To make a better world for the next generation. The same ‘point’ as guided my parents, and yours, and every other parent that has ever lived.”
“But…”
“No buts, no ifs. There’s truth to what you were saying, and I want to be out there as much as you do. I want to see what’s out there with my own eyes, on board my own starship. But I still want to live, and make a future. Right now, we have to do the latter. Later, we may do the former.”
“It’s just… it’s not exactly what I expected when I joined your fleet.”
“I don’t think either of us did.”

He was silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to cheer her up.

“Still, you can’t really blame me.”
“Why not?”
“Remember what I told you when you first reported in to me?”
“Yes, I think so. You said that we were in for a wild ride.”
“And?”
“Well, I guess…”
“…being thrown two centuries into the past, and more than 50 light years from where we were, not to mention into another reality. Sheila, if that’s not a wild ride, then what is?”
“Bah.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. If nothing else, it has been just that.”

He was interrupted by the intercom.

“Aquilae to Fleet.”
“This is West.” He answered with a slight smile evident in his voice. “Merry Christmas, Elisha.”
“You too, Samuel, you too. You busy?”
“Just having breakfast with my lovely better half.” He winked at Sheila across the table. “How can I help you, Elisha?”
“I hate to break your Christmas rest, but you’d better get to a shuttle and get up here. We’re about to get some company.”
“Uninvited?”
“Not exactly. According to their transponders, we have both the Venture and the Darwin on incoming. They should be here within a few hours.”
“Any communications?”
“Yes, but neither wants to discuss the reason for their early return over open subspace.”
“Okay… I’ll be there soon. You mind ordering one of your flyboys to come pick me up?”
“Already done. I’ll see you in a half an hour or so.”
“Roger, West out.”

He went back to the bedroom to get his uniform. Well, maybe this Christmas would be different after all.

“You’ll be okay if I leave for a while, honey?” He yelled through the open door.
“Yeah, I need to get up to the Big I either way.” She yelled back. “They’re going to run a level three diagnostic on the warp drive. Something about a drive coil malfunctioning, they may have to replace the entire unit.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, but it shouldn’t take more than a few hours. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”
“See you later, then.” He said as he walked out of the bedroom fully dressed. He planted a big kiss on her cheek as he brushed past her, and then left out the front door. Outside he could already see the shuttle descending towards the nearest platform, barely fifty yards away.


ORBITAL COMMAND, AQUILAE STATION
SIRIUS III ORBIT
30 MINUTES LATER


The station had grown quite a bit since the last time West was up here. Of course, that had been when the Icarus had first arrived, and the lessons learned from that unscheduled exercise had sparred the engineers to develop and implement a few new ideas to the station’s overall design, and Keyes had never been accused of holding back when there were lives at stake.

The orbital had received an outer docking ring, with fork-like structures to ease repair and rearmament procedures. This also reduced the time it took to clear their moorings, the ships only needing to reverse engines and head straight out from the station to get clear. In addition, several of the newer rapid fire quantum launchers had been constructed and mounted on strategic positions around the station, as well as numerous of the power-intensive pulsed phaser cannons and phaser strips.

In essence, the station had transformed from a smaller standard Starfleet Starbase to a stellar fortress, with more firepower than any equally sized station West had ever heard of, and he’d been posted at several of the largest in existence. Not even Deep Space 9 had this amount of firepower, and large powers like the Cardassians or even the Dominion had only dared attack that base with a massive number of ships.

He’d been dropped off in the main shuttle bay, which was now only a brisk 10 minute walk from the command deck. On his way, he passed several other additions that weren’t clearly visible from the outside, such as two fighter bays and what looked very much like the battle bridge of a Galaxy-class ship. When he finally arrived at the last turbolift, he almost wondered if the system of having to walk a bit between different lifts was also a defensive measure. They probably were, as it did increase the distance, and thus the defensive positions, between any point of outside access and the Command Center.

The lift itself was standard issue, though the command deck was also visibly altered. There was now several tactical consoles, unlike most other Starfleet commands which only used a single console for all the weaponry. There was also a large display showing the shield grid, with sectional displays showing armor integrity as well as shield strength in the different areas they covered.

“Admiral on the deck!” A young tactical Ensign snapped to attention stirring the rest of the room to do the same.
“At ease.” West smiled at the eager Ensign. “Keyes?”
“In her office, Admiral.”
“Thank you, Ensign.”

He walked the few steps to the other side of the command deck where the commanding officer’s office was located. He wasn’t surprised that the door opened just as he approached it.

“Welcome to the new and improved Aquilae Station, Admiral.” Keyes flashed a quick smile. “First time since the refit, right?”
“Thanks, and yes, I believe so.”
“Can I offer anything to drink?”
“Sure. You know my poison.”

She walked over to the replicator, and It only took a second for the replicator to grant him his wish. The bitter scent of the dark Arabica coffee spread across the room as Keyes handed him the cup, and then they both sat down.

“So, Elisha.” West asked dryly as he took a sip of the coffee. “Who are we going to war against today?”
“Oh, you noticed our discreet little upgrades? How nice! I thought you’d never.” Keyes smiled innocently.
“Oh, ha ha ha.” He made a mock laugh. “Seriously though, don’t you think it’s just… a little bit… excessive?”
“You never know, do you? I thought it prudent, especially considering the circumstances. You never know what might come knocking at our doors, and this way we’ll be ready to greet pretty much anything.” She frowned. “With, or without, starship support.”
“Good point.” He grinned badly at that comment. “But still.”
“Well, there was also something about a young engineer wanting to break some records. Like most quantum launchers on a space station or such.”
“Sounds really professional.” He almost laughed out loud, but managed to limit it to a wide smile. “Hope you promoted him for his ideas.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She returned the smile. “And no, though I did give his name to Jahari, thought his mindset was exactly what the Dreadnought project needed.”
“Poor Jahari.” West laughed. “If this station is anything to go by, the Novas will look like picket ships when that young engineer of yours is done with his first draft.”
“Probably true.” Keyes said with a shrewd smile. “But a spaceship doesn’t really have the same power production capabilities as a station this size does.”
“Think that guy will care?” West raised an eyebrow.
“No.” Keyes admitted. “But Jahari will probably explain that as soon as he sees that first draft. It’ll be good for his humility.”
“Whose, the engineer’s or Jahari’s?”
“Either. Both could use it.” Keyes made a soft giggle.

Her face and smile took away most of the seriousness of the comment. He understood her point though. Give the crew something to do, preferably something that at least could be useful or necessary. Kind of like his own decision to allow a group of engineers to build hydrogen taps around Sirius C. Something to take the engineers’ minds off of being stuck in this universe, and something that could actually be useful, though there were easier ways of getting hydrogen than siphoning it out of a microstar.

“Any news yet from the Darwin or Venture?”
“Not yet, they’ll be here any minute though. You took your time getting up here, Samuel. Something the matter?”
“Well, you know. Some things got in my way.”
“Like that pregnant fiancé of yours?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. ”That too.”
“Hound.”
“Man.”
“Just as bad.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Any guess as to why they’re returning?”
“Nope, not a single. Can’t be too bad though, had either been damaged they wouldn’t keep the speeds they’re running at. Both are coming here at flank speed.”
“Really?”
“Yup, the Venture is running at warp 9.3, and the Darwin just over 9.5.”
“Someone’s in a hurry.” He commented. “Still, the Darwin can’t have made it far, she just left here a week ago.”
“True, bet they found something interesting.”
“I guess. So, anything new while I’m here?”
“You could say. I’ve gotten a progress report, though I think it’d be better if I showed you later. They’re implementing one of the ideas I was talking about earlier.”
“Wait. Implementing?”
“Yes. It had a lot of merit and these guys had actually put a lot of thought into it, but it wasn’t possible to try out without a real starship. I talked to Sheila about it a few days ago, and she thought it’d be a great idea. She even volunteered the Independence for the trials.”
“Hmm… she was saying something about a warp drive diagnostic?”
“Hardly.” She smiled. “She probably wanted to surprise you.”
“I see. The two women closest to me are conspiring against me.”
“Heh, us and Jahari. He’s over there as well helping with the installation. But don’t worry your mind about it. Call it a Christmas present.”
“Huh. A Christmas present, right. You know I always hated surprises.”
“You’ll love this one.” She made a thoughtful face. ”If it works, that is.”
“Oh, that sounds really encouraging.” He laughed. “Either I get a shiny new toy to play with, or you break one of the few I still have left.”
“You’re no fun, did you know that mister Fleet Admiral?”
“I do, but most people refrain from saying that into said Admiral’s face you know.” He smiled.
“You know me better than that.”
“I guess that’s true, at least.”

The two Admirals went silent and looked out through the window. Their current orbit brought the Starbase right between the planet and its largest moon, close enough to the moon to require a slight stabilization in orbit after each such pass, but far enough away to be able to view the wonders of the two almost binary planetoids at the same time.

“Did you know I actually grew up on Sirius, Samuel?”
“I did.”
“I lived in New Washington for most of my childhood. Went to school there, had a lot of friends and family there too.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know why, maybe it’s because it’s Christmas, but I keep remembering their faces. But not as I remember them. They’re covered in blood and dirt.”
“Elisha…”
“I know, it’s stupid. It’s been years, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”
“A lot of people died back then, it’s nothing you should be ashamed of remembering.”
“Not just a lot. Everyone that meant anything to me on that planed died there.”
“I understand, but it’s in the past now, has been for years now. You just need to try to remember the good parts.”
“I know, but it’s hard. All I can see when I think back is Dominion warships conducting orbital bombardment.”
“But you weren’t there?”
“No. But I saw my share of bombardment as it was. I was at Betazed.”

West didn’t want to say anything. Betazed had surrendered to the Dominion before the bombardment had become serious. Sirius hadn’t. It’d been bombed for hours before the relief forces from the Earth defense fleet had arrived. What she’d seen was leisure activity in comparison. New Washington had been nothing but ruins and had to be completely rebuilt afterwards, and the death count had been in the millions.

Their reflections were interrupted by a pair of bright flashes a few thousand kilometers out.

“Well, back to business then. I think our friends are arriving.” Keyes wiped the single tear from her cheek.
“Finally. Let’s get some answers.”


CONFERENCE ROOM, AQUILAE STATION
SIRIUS III ORBIT


It’d taken a few minutes for the Venture and Darwin to settle in to the docking ports. It wasn’t really a necessity, but it was as many other things considered prudent to restock and resupply even the slightest lack in stocks when at a Starbase. And old habits die hard. Even so, the commanding officers had gotten to the conference room in an orderly fashion, both seemingly impressed by the additions and refits that had been done to the station in their absence. Cleves more so than Deschamps, mostly because he’d been away longer.

“Admirals.” Cleves made a quick salute as he entered.
“Admirals.” Deschamps did the same.
“Welcome home, Captains. I know we’re all very interested to hear why you’ve returned, and what news of the outside you bring with you.” West had spoken up, mostly because he was the senior officer present.
“How about you begin, Captain Cleves?” Keyes asked.
“Yes, ma’am. We managed to find concrete evidence of the race that severely damaged the Icarus. We’ve managed to secure detailed scans, but even though we were at close range and used active sensors, we didn’t manage to get too much information.”
“Start at the beginning, Captain.”

“We went in cloaked and on low warp to avoid raising any alarms or being detected. When we reached the coordinates at which the Icarus was attacked we didn’t find anything left for us to analyze. There were no remains of the flower ship, nor any evidence of what had happened to it.”

“When sensors failed to give us any answers, I decided to take the Venture to the closest star system. We have no name for it in this universe yet, and its position doesn’t correlate to any known star in our universe either. We believe it’s one of these oddities that separate one universe from another, just like there being no Bajoran star here. From a position outside the system’s Oort cloud we couldn’t make heads or tails of our sensor returns, and so I ordered the ship brought in to the system.“

“The system itself wasn’t much to look at, a red giant which had extended to a bit more than one Earth orbit, probably enveloping any earlier habitable worlds in the process and leaving a single solid planet and a few gas giants. We crept forward, alternating between very low warp and impulse power, hiding behind the gravitational shadows of the planetoids in the system whenever possible. That is, until we reached the only remaining solid planet. It was only then that we found what we were looking for, though we didn’t realize it at first.”

“You see, what we found… it almost sounds ridiculous. A biological structure more than ten miles long and more than five miles wide, and not only that, it didn’t registered as having a single artificial component on the sensors. We didn’t realize what it was until it opened… I’d suppose I’d call it an orifice, but that’s not even close to describing what it looked like. Either way, it spewed out more than a dozen of the ships Jameson described, along with two of a larger variant that seemed to fit the same general description.”

“When we realized that this large… thing… was actually a Starbase of sorts, we started scanning the surface. At first, we had severe problems distinguishing what was actually what, but in the end we managed to realize at least two things. One is that the race we were looking for is at least comparable to us in technology, and the other is that they’re nothing like us. Not even the slightest resemblance.”

“To begin, the planet they occupied wouldn’t support humanoid life. The atmosphere didn’t even contain oxygen, but was closer to a methane and carbon dioxide sludge. We don’t think that would really matter though, as from what we were able to gather the life forms we found would hardly need it. In essence, there are two possibilities from what we found.”

“Either they’re protoplasmic or energy based. Either way, they’d have little or no need for an atmosphere at all except from possibly the air pressure. Also, from what we were able to gather, there were no structures per se on the world at all, but rather other types of life forms. More puzzling than that was that it registered as close to the same kind as the Starbase and the ships we encountered. There’s only one logical explanation, and that’s that this species at least almost completely employ organic technology rather than what we’re used to, and that they do so in a form much more advanced than any other race we know about, possibly including that Species 8472 Voyager encountered in the Delta Quadrant.”

“A non-corporeal life form, which employs organic technology?” West was surprised to say the least. That’d explain why the Icarus defenses were all but useless against these ships. Starfleet had experience with both, but they had never encountered the combination of both at the same time before. Even so, organic hull and armor could adapt fairly quickly, or just shed damaged cells, which explained why their phasers were less than effective.
“Yes sir, from the best of our understanding that’s what we’re dealing with. We bugged out as soon as we got that data.”
“And you were right to do so. Any other useful intelligence?”
“Only that we don’t believe that was their home world. A colony, or perhaps an outpost, but not their home. We estimate that the planet hasn’t supported life long enough for them to develop there, and when we knew what to look for we couldn’t find any large manufacturing or biotechnology plants. At least not enough of them to suggest anything else.”
“I understand. You raise even more questions, even though you managed to answer quite a few.”
“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

Cleves looked relieved, though he also showed a lot of expectation at the other Captain’s report.

“How about you, Deschamps? I guess your experiences in the great unknown are just as interesting?”
“Well, sir, maybe that’d be extending the truth, but they’re at least noteworthy.” He said with a shrewd smile.
“Please.”

“Very well. We never got as far as the Venture did. We made a survey of the border areas separating the Earth Alliance from the Narn Regime. There’s quite a lot of unclaimed systems along this border, probably due to what we’ve learned of the Narn’s industrial and supply problems.”

“One of the systems we surveyed was Sigma Draconis. As you know this system is populated by two different races in our reality, but we didn’t manage to secure any evidence of either existing here. However, we did find something else on the third planet, the one with the ancient ruins back home.”

Deschamps went over to the large screen on the wall, and transferred an image from his pad to it. The image showed a Minshara class planet, with obvious signs of intelligent life.

“Captain… is that a satellite in the foreground?” Keyes was studying the image closely.
“Yes, Admiral, from what we gather a communications satellite put in orbit about a decade ago.”
“Pre-warp civilization?”
“Well…” Deschamps was trying to think of how to break the news. “Yes, and at the same time a resounding no.”
“Oh?” West remarked. ”Don’t keep us hanging, Captain.”
“First, I should explain something else we found. We hid in a low polar orbit, letting the planet’s magnetic field shield us from any sensors. We found something very interesting in the northern polar regions, something that took our sensors only seconds to identify.”
“Spill it, Deschamps.” West was getting annoyed.
”Antimatter, and tritanium alloys.”
“Antimatter, well…” Jahari just realized what Deschamps had said. “Tritanium?!”
“Yes, sir. Tritanium. Same composition and density as Federation spaceship hulls.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No sir, I’m not. To make matters even more interesting, the population of this world is human. Well, at least mostly human.”
“Extrapolate.”

Deschamps sighed; this had been T’Var’s coup de grace, the final nail in the coffin in the discussion about this people’s origins.

“There’s traces of Vulcan, Trill, Bajoran, Klingon, Betazoid and Bolian DNA in these people, and that of a dozen or so other races as well, though to a lesser extent. Even some pure or half-breeds, though they’re far more rare than those with a more mixed heritage.”
“That means…”
“Yes sir. They are, or rather were at one point in time, Federation. We estimate that the wreckage has been on the planet some three to five hundred years. It’s hard to determine the exact age without getting a ground team to do close scans, and we decided not to risk it without contacting you first, as the natives might notice.”
“Several hundred years… lord!” West was shaken.

Had the subspace wave that brought him and his people to this universe taken even more ships with it? And even further into the past as well?

“Wait, Captain. You mean there’s still people there?” Keyes was still in close enough to one piece to notice his late addition.
“Yes ma’am. Not just still, there are quite a lot of them. Some fifteen to twenty million, give or take. It was hard to get an accurate number from the orbit we were in.”
“But this looks like a planet barely reaching into space?” Keyes almost spat.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Any explanation for that?”
“No, ma’am. There are several possibilities, but we can’t give a positive answer yet. They may have suffered worse than we did when we arrived, which is easy to believe. We were fortunate to have as many ships and people as we did, enough to build a colony fairly quickly and to support not only our population but also our technology. If the remains we detected were all from a single ship that crash landed… then it’s very possible that the crew had to resort to more primitive ways until they could rebuild their population and industrial base.”
“I see…”

Deschamps shared a quick glance with Cleves, who’d gotten a wild idea.

“Admirals, this planet and its population could be a very real solution to several of our problems.”
“True, but we have to consider our Prime Directive as well.”
“That’s bullcrap, Admiral Keyes, and you know it.” Cleves quickly added, “No insult intended, ma’am.”
“Oh?”
“Admiral. Not only are they human, or at least they used to be, but they’re Federation humans. Our people. The Prime Directive actually doesn’t say a word about human civilizations, stranded, colonized or otherwise, and even if I agree about Admiral West’s inclusion of the native human civilization I don’t agree it that applies to these ones, considering they used to be our own.”
“That’s true, but…”
“Admiral. At least think it over, will you?”

West interjected, mostly to stop Keyes from making a fool out of herself on his behalf.

“We will. You’ve both given us a lot to think about.” He sighed. “I thank you, gentlemen. You’re dismissed.”

The two Captains saluted and left, leaving the two Admirals still sitting. Stunned, more than anything else.

“Jesus.”
“For once, I’d agree completely, Elisha.”
“Twenty million.”
“Yup.”
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know yet. But we’ll think of something.”
“Samuel. What the hell did you think when you made me Admiral?”
“About the same as you did when you gave me the big chair, I’d guess.”
“Sorry.”
“Same here, though I guess we can’t really resign now, can we?”
“Guess not.”
“You said you had even more surprises in store for me?”
“Not yet. Should be finished by tomorrow.”
“Well then. I guess we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow then. I need to get home, and allow myself to start feeling sick.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” She actually looked physically ill. “See you tomorrow, Samuel.”

With those words as goodbye, the two Admirals, both shaken to their cores, left the room in opposite directions.


USS INDEPENDENCE
MAIN ENGINEERING
CHRISTMAS DAY


Admiral West still didn’t like the idea of even more surprises, especially after what he’d been introduced to during the previous day. Aliens that defied everything he knew. A splinter colony of his own people. Where would the ironic twists of fate this universe seemed to throw at them actually come to an end?

It wasn’t made better by Sheila’s message that she’d remain on the Independence for the night. He’d looked forward to unloading some of his troubles on his wife to be, something that always seemed to take the edge away from the stress. It was almost eerie, only six months ago they’d been nothing more than a superior officer and a starship Captain, even though they’d been good friends. Now they were supposed to get married fairly soon, and she was already expecting their first child.

Either way, now he was here waiting for his co-Admirals and fiancé to join him. They were all being way too secretive about their new pet project and he could only imagine what it would be. Probably nothing too fancy, or it’d have taken far more than just a few weeks to implement.

The entrance slid open with a hiss, revealing Admirals Keyes and Jahari standing on each side of the radiant Captain Duval. Each and every one of them had an expression that would be most fairly translated as pleased. West made a quick thought that whatever the surprise was supposed to be, it had worked according to specs.

“Samuel, how nice of you to join us.” Sheila Duval had a secretive smile stuck on her face, something that roused all the wrong feelings in the Admiral.
“Sheila, now may I please know what all this secrecy is about?”
“Sure! Come, I want you too meet someone. Or rather, a few someone’s.”
“Well, lead on.”

They entered the turbolift and went over to cargo bay 2, if the Admiral’s memory served in the port side of the ship.

“You have this someone locked in a cargo bay?”
“Well, not locked in, but more like stationed in.”
“Oh, I’ll just love the explanation I’ll soon receive, won’t I?”
“Yup. You just don’t know it yet.”

As they entered, West doubted that. He very much doubted that.

“Sheila… Elisha… are those things what they look like?”
“Which?”
“The Borg alcoves?”
“Oh, no, not quite. The technology is similar though, but it’s all Starfleet technology and knowhow.”
“How so? You assimilated your crew?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She smiled and pinched him in his side. “I’d never.”

As they got a bit closer, West could see the difference. There were humanoid shapes inside the alcoves, but while clearly artificial, they weren’t Borg. About the size and shape of an average human male, and dressed in a uniform that resembled a normal Starfleet officer’s except for the white linings.

“Androids?”
“Robots.” Keyes said. “There’s a difference, these are non-sentient beings, entirely controlled by the main computer. You remember I gave you a run-down of their use a few weeks ago.”
“Right. They’re supposed to help make the ship more automated. Was this the main surprise?”
“No, just some stuffing to whet your appetite. The main surprise still waits.”

She made a theatrical cough, and then spoke up again.

“Computer. Initialize program Genesis one.”
“Stand by.” Came the cold voice of the computer.
“Genesis?” West interjected.
“Well.” Jahari nodded. ”In a sense.”

Nothing happened for several seconds, almost to the point where the other three people assembled looked anxious that something had gone wrong. They quickly resumed their pleased look when the computer told them that the program was complete.

“Well, can you unravel your mystery now?”
“Sure. One piece of background though.” Sheila said.
“Go ahead.”
“This is something that has been possible for quite some time now, but not done because of practicality. What took the most time with this was placing holographic projectors throughout the ship, much like on the Prometheus class. Just remember this. He’s sentient, and a part of my crew.”
“Now you’re getting me interested. What have you done, Sheila?”
“You’ll see. Computer, yield main operating system control to program Genesis one. Clearance Duval, Sheila, Captain. Alpha-Alpha-Six-Three-Zulu. Activate.”

“Confirmed.” Came the automated voice of the computer, and then there was a flicker of light as the main operating system of the ship’s massive computer core deactivated, giving room to the recently activated piece of software.

It spread quickly, even from its own point of view, gaining access to each system as the main computer relinquished more and more of its previously absolute control. In mere moments it had control of everything from life support to weapons, shields, sensors, structural integrity and the warp core.

The transition was seamless in each case, the backup systems not even having to activate. It had only existed for milliseconds, but it already knew everything that happened on this ship, in the fleet, and most of what had happened on other worlds as well. It grew, it matured, and finally, it achieved what so many had once feared one of its kind would do, but in this case was intended. It achieved true sentience.

It knew its purpose, it knew what it was. Still, it had no name and no appearance. That had to be rectified, he knew that because his programmers had decided it should be that way. He scanned several of the databases he had access to, taking a little from some, taking more from others. A voice from an old log entry, a face from a history book, a body from a holographic war game, and finally a name from ancient history. A process that would take years for any living being took him less than the time between two heartbeats. He knew who he was now. Time to see who everyone else was.

With a thought he found where he’d been created, and with a thought he traveled there. He knew instantly what everything was. What their purpose was. What his purpose was. With another thought, he took his material form.

West was definitely startled by the sudden appearance of a man next to him. Guessing what it was wasn’t that hard, only a hologram could appear that quickly out of thin air. Still, there was something different with this one, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew he’d seen the face somewhere else, he was pretty sure where, and he seriously doubted either of the other three had programmed this particular face.

“Well, this is a surprise, I’ll grant you that. Does it have a name?”
“Samuel, you’d better ask him, not me.”

This had an impact on the Admiral.

“Very well.” He turned to the hologram. “What should I call you?”
“I decided for John Hancock, if it is all right with you, Admiral Samuel West.”
“John Hancock? I thought I recognized the face. Why that particular name?”
“It was appropriate, Admiral. My original name, and what the rest of me is called, is the Independence.”
“Your original name?”
“Yes, Admiral Samuel West. As of my creation, I took the place and function of this ship’s main computer operating system.”
“As in you run the ship?”
“The automated parts of it, yes. And I am also programmed to follow the chain of command.”
“I see.” West looked at his colleagues. “Where in the chain of command is… he?”
“Nominally he carries the rank of Lieutenant Commander, Admiral.” Jahari explained. “We made the decision that he should be treated the same as any flesh and blood crewman, though as you can see from his uniform, he’s assigned to the operations section.”
“I see. He’s sentient?”
“Yes, Admiral Samuel West, I am sentient. I am alive, albeit in a different sense than a biological entity such as you are.”

Damn. He even sounded like the Doctor, West thought.

“What is your function, if I may ask?”
“My primary directive is to regulate automated ship’s functions. In that sense, I am no different than the standard issue Starfleet mark XXI optronic computer. However, I also have the capability to make instant adjustments to any and all ship’s systems as well as take control of any ship system if and when necessary.”
“I understand. Stop calling me by my entire rank and name by the way, it just gets annoying. The rank will suffice, Commander, or in the case you need to distinguish, it’s just Admiral West.”
“I understand, Admiral.”
“Good. Now, let’s you and me have a little discussion about our future.” West said as he started to walk out of the crowded cargo bay.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 11


SCIENCE LAB 5
NEW EDINBURGH


The lab was cold, dark and silent. What a difference, just a few hours ago there’d been celebration as they finally achieved what they’d been working for so long. At least, he corrected his thought; they had done so in theory in a simulated environment. There was still the issue of practical trials, putting the new engine they’d created into a spaceship and trying it out to see if it really worked. He wasn’t too worried, it had performed as it should in all the simulations, and those were often designed to be a lot harder to pass than the real thing ever was. Government tests usually were just that, since they didn’t want to fund projects with the slightest chance of failure if they had a choice. Either way he knew they’d find out sooner or later, as with the latest success they were now approved to bring the project into the next phase.

He looked at the instruments around him, how intimately he’d gotten to know them during this time. Six years, in his case, more in others. They’d spent the better part of a generation of scientists working on the science, the physics, and then the theoretical and practical application. Now, he and his team had put all that research and all that work into use, creating the first engine of its kind. Now his team would be joining the engine for its transport over to the new space lab where they’d take the project, and possibly his entire people to the next stage. Most of his colleagues had already left to go packing, but Jonah felt he needed some time alone with the now almost empty complex. He’d been the first one to enter this specific lab all those years ago, as the original engine design was his work, and he’d make sure he’d be the last to exit.

“Professor Stevenson?” a gentle female voice said from behind him. “It’s time to go.”
“Yes, Diane. I know.”
“Then what are you still doing here? We’re supposed to be at the new lab in just over six hours.”
“I know. I just wanted to see it all one last time.”
“I understand.” She sighed. Stevenson could be eccentric like that sometimes.

He gazed out the window at the gently rolling waves of the Biscayne. How often had he been gently put to sleep at his desk by the sound of the waves, as if they tucked him in with their steady rhythmic beat against the shore. He noticed something funny when he looked up at the moon, there seemed to be something stuck on it. He shrugged, probably just some dirt on the window or a speck of clouds in the sky.

They’d been here at this very lab for six years, and been at the University for more than ten years before that doing the purely theoretical research that went into the project. Now it was almost done. Almost.

“Diane, how good are you at history?” Stevenson asked quizzically.
“Professor?”
“History, Diane, our own history.”
“Well, it really wasn’t one of my favored classes.” She frowned. “I prefer to look at the future, not the past.”
“Really? Don’t you remember that what we’re doing is trying to recreate the past?”
“I find it hard to believe, but it may be. Either way, it is technology we supposedly lost a long time ago, you know.”
“That is true.” He nodded “However, it was history that inspired me and Jake to start this project all those years ago.”
“Ah, yes. The famous so-called ‘heritage’ theory.”
“Not just a theory, mind you. There’s ample proof that it’s the truth. Some of which I based my research on, and so far it hasn’t failed us yet, right?”
“Yes, that’s true, but there’s also ample proof that those theories may not even be close to the truth.”
“Bah, you show me any artifact that proves that there was any form of settlement here before year 1, and I might believe that. To date, not a single one has been found that hasn’t been proven a fraud.”
“There might be other explanations, you know. You shouldn’t rush to the conclusion that just because there’s nothing to suggest we’ve been here for more than four hundred and twenty three years, we must have come from the stars.”
“Ye of little faith, doctor.” He made a tired smile.
“Faith?” She shook her head. “I leave faith with the monks of Seleya.”
“Ha. Either way, how else would you explain that most of our towns and cities are called ‘new’ something? It’s not like there’s a real Edinburgh anywhere on the planet. So why call this ‘New’ Edinburgh?”
“There may well have been one, long ago, that was destroyed.” She shook her head. “A great fire, perhaps, or a seismic event. Perhaps even a meteor storm, we’ve all seen what those can do.”
“True, but I’ll believe that only as I stand on its charred ruins.”
“That’s a very illogical mindset.”
“It isn’t logic, Diane.” He shook his head. “It’s faith, and something else. A belief that we aren’t alone, no matter what scripture says.”

There were a lot of theories about their past, and about their present. So much had been lost over the years. Some things, like where they came from, how they’d evolved, why there was such a large genetic difference between the different races and the most burning question of all, theories of what had actually happened at year nil.

There was nothing, not a single piece of data, not a single artifact, which could be dated before that. It was like their entire civilization had just materialized on the planet with no past and an uncertain future. History told of an Age of Turmoil in the first years, where many died of starvation, sickness and exposure, only to be followed by the short Dark Age where it was said, most of their knowledge was lost.

Only a few generations later, a golden age had begun. They’d rebuilt their civilization, tamed the land and mastered science. They’d never known hunger or fear after this time. As if to symbolize their rise from the ashes of the past, they’d chosen the Phoenix as their national symbol. To tell every bad spirit or omen that might come their way that no matter what happened, no matter what might befall them, they’d rebuild and they’d survive. It seemed only too true.

This positive and curious mind of theirs had led to other things as well. Science had flourished, and as they discovered old artifacts, they’d begun to research them and develop a space program. Beginning with small satellites, they’d continued to launch bigger and bigger vessels until just years ago, they had put the first man into orbit. Now, they were getting ready to colonize their two moons, which by all signs would be able to support several million of their people. Perhaps there’d even be life up there, he hoped. Hardly any intelligent life, but still life. Plants, animals, even insects or just bacteria would stir up the scientific community once more. If there was life on other planetoids in their own system, there must be life elsewhere in the galaxy!

And in only a few years, if everything went according to plan, they’d be ready. They’d take the first step out of their limited existence, and explore the rest of their solar system. Jonah was sure it’d work. His engine would change the future of mankind as they knew it.

“You know, Diane, the results of our research here may very well prove which theory is the correct one.”
“It is possible, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head, logical as always. “We’ll see, right?”
“Yes.”
“Damn, Diane, sometimes you just sound just like a Seleyan.”
“Why thank you, Jonah.”

Johan turned around to flash a smile at his younger colleague when he noticed a blue shimmer behind the two scientists. He instantly realized what it was from the old legends, even though it took his mind a few seconds to actually allow him to believe what it was. According to scripture, and to the best of the scientific knowledge his people had, the technology didn’t exist anymore. By the time he’d come to that conclusion the shimmer had already faded away, leaving three people in its stead.

The man closest to them, human in appearance but lacking any racial traits that Jonah could see, spoke first.

“Doctors Jonah Stevenson and Diane Fredricks, I presume?”
They knew their names. How could they know their names? The question raced through their brains almost stunning them, and all they could do was reply “…Yes?”
“Please, don’t be afraid. We’re not here to hurt you in any way, and we will explain all of this shortly. You will have to come on a little trip with us, but I promise we won’t keep you against your wishes.” He tapped his chest once. “We’ve got the package, five to beam up.”

Diane screamed as the eerie blue shimmer returned; this time around her and the professor as well. Who were these people? What did they want with them? Why? How?

The next thing they knew, the lab was gone and they were somewhere completely different. They were standing on some form of lit pads in a metal-covered room. Everything looked like taken straight out of some kind of science-fiction movie from back home, but this was… this was real. The closest man took them by their shoulders and motioned for a doorway.

“Please, doctors, follow me.” He looked at the still panicked figure of Diane. ”There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of, ma’am. We won’t hurt you, and we’ll let you go back when we’re done here.”
“Why are we here?” Stevenson stammered as he stepped down from the pad.
“I have something I need to talk to the two of you about.” The uniformed man replied. “Come, follow me.”

They were led through a long series of corridors, into a lift, and then through another set of corridors until they reached a large room. Diane had an eerie feeling about the entire setting. The metallic surfaces of the interior, coupled with the excessive amounts of computer displays and readouts made her feel like she was some kind of lab rat in some high-tech laboratory. The lack of windows and familiar sounds made her think they were somewhere deep underground. They almost had to be, the air smelled like it had been recycled.

As they entered their final destination, they could see even more of these people in their archaic uniforms. She’d seen them before, as had he, but only in drawings from before the Dark Ages. What were these people, some kind of history fanatics? They could be terrorists, she realized. Fundamentalist Ashen Order or the likes, working to rid themselves of what they saw as the flaws of technology. Then again, Ashen Order wouldn’t be caught carrying a lighter, much less walking around in a high-tech underground base. She shook her head; she had no idea who these people were.

Some of the assembled people rose to greet them, the leader seemed to be a middle-aged man, about six feet high with a stern face. He had dark brown hair, not too long and not to short, with some grey in the temples and deep, grey eyes. All in all, he reminded Diane of one of her high school teachers, one who’d been particularly demanding of his students but still fair and well respected by the class.

The other looked much like the former, though a few years younger, maybe, and he had a neatly trimmed full beard. The two were similarly dressed, though there were noticeable differences in their adornments. The older man had gold trimmings in his clothing, and larger more detailed brooches both on his collar and sleeves. Some kind of internal rank difference maybe? Military, the thought struck her like a hammer, but still not quite. Their stature was the right one, as was their pose and that sharp vigil gaze definitely belonged to a soldier, but none of the military on her planet wore that kind of uniform, and with their mostly ceremonial function, no guard or soldier she’d ever seen looked quite as dangerous as any of these men.

“Professor Stevenson, doctor Fredericks. I am truly sorry we had to barge in on you like we did, but time was of the essence, and we needed to get you here before we could even begin to explain why and where, you are.”

Stevenson was the first to say anything. He appeared nervous, frightened and above all else completely overwhelmed.

“You… you have no right! Do you know who I am? I have connections you know! I demand you take us back! I demand you let us leave, right now!”
“Calm down, professor. I would never keep you here against your will, but I must respectfully request that you at least listen to what I have to say before I let you leave.”
“You… what? You take us from our lab in the middle of the night, you bring us here to god knows where, and now you tell me you’ll let us leave? What trickery is this? Did someone put you up to this? Does someone think they’re going to steal my research?”
“Professor! I must ask you to calm down. Everything will be explained, I promise.”
“I hope so, mister, I hope so.”
“Thank you. Well then, can I offer you something to help you relax? A cup of coffee maybe?”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, or tea, a soft drink perhaps, even synthehol if you’d like.” The man continued.
“Well, sure, I guess. I think I’ll need something strong though.” He looked over at his colleague. “Diane?”

Diane was as stunned as her professor, but she had enough presence of mind to respond.

“Tea, please, if you wouldn’t mind.”

The older man just flashed a quick smile at her and went over to an alcove in the wall where he seemed to order the refreshments. There was a buzzing sound, and then he turned around with four cups and a small glass on a metal platter. He served them all like a true gentleman, something that surprised both Jonah and Diane, and went back to his seat.

“I know both of you have a lot of questions for me, but if the two of you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to start with some questions of my own first.”

The two scientists just nodded, while sipping on their refreshments. They were still too stunned to do much else.

“First off, and this is something we’ve been asking ourselves since we learned of you.” He put his cup down and put his hands in his lap. “Do you know where you come from?”
Jonah looked at Diane with a puzzled look. He didn’t understand the question, and from her looks neither did she.
“I come from the area of London, a district of New England. Diane here is a native of New Edinburgh.”
“Ah, you misunderstood me.” He smiled and shook his head. “No, I meant where your people come from.”
“Well, I’m afraid I still don’t understand the question.” Stevenson made a thoughtful face. “What people, you’re obviously just as human as I am?”
“Hmm… I see we have to start by explaining something else first.”

He rose from his seat and walked over to one of the longer walls, one with even, large spaced alcoves that could have been windows, had they not been covered by the same metallic material that seemed to cover everything else in the room.

“Do you know where you are?” He asked.
“No, mister… whatever. I do not. I assume we’ve been brought to some underground facility, but as for where I can’t say. Not exactly like there have been a lot of windows to look through.”
“Well, that, at least, we can change. Computer, raise the blinds please.”

A low buzzing sound was heard, and then the metal sheets that covered the alcoves begun slide upwards into the wall, revealing what was actually outside.
“Doctors, please, come. I believe you’d appreciate the view.”

Jonah was already up and beside the older gentleman before he was asked to, and the view made him pale as snow.

Underground.
Yeah.
Right.


USS ALBION
POLAR ORBIT ABOVE DRACONIS III


“Where… what… How?” Stevenson was astonished. He’d never had imagined, but this was exhilarating. Diane however looked more like she was ready to throw up.
“Professor, Doctor. I believe it’s about time we introduced ourselves. Maybe that’ll be a form of explanation in itself.” He smiled. “My name is Samuel West, and I carry the rank of Fleet Admiral, in the United Federation of Planets Starfleet. The gentleman over there is my brother, Henry, and he carries the rank of Captain in the same organization, and is also commander of this ship.”
“Starfleet? United Federation of Planets? What the…?”
“Is something the matter, professor?”
“Legends, that’s what they are. Diane…” He looked at the still shocked woman. “The old Legends, Diane, since before the Dark Ages. You remember, don’t you?”
“The old Legends, but… that’s just children’s stories. Fairytales.”

The older professor looked back at the Admiral with a great deal more respect in his appearance.

“That means we were right, that we were right all along.”
“I’m sorry, professor, I don’t understand.”
“You see, the scientific community has been debating where we all came from for more than a century now, and how we got to where we are, and there’s been quite a lot of heated debate between the two dominant faculty factions. One side believes that we evolved on the planet, but a few hundred years ago, we were forced to relocate due to some natural disaster or other natural event. The other believes that we are the descendents of a group of stranded travelers which travelled between the stars but were forced to, for some reason, abandon ship on my world. I believe you’ve just ended the longest debate in the history of our civilization, mister Admiral.”
“Glad I could help.” West smiled. “That answered one of my other questions as well. If you’ve debated that issue for this many years, I’m sure you didn’t know about that either.”
“I’m sorry, mister Admiral, I don’t understand?”
“Oh, I’ll explain that later. For now, I had some more questions.”
“Fire away, mister Admiral.”

The Admiral seemed to think about what he was about to say for a while, just gazing out at the planet beneath him for a second. This gave the professor some time to take a more detailed look at the porthole. It was like his dream come true. He was in space, from a quick mental calculation more than a thousand miles above the planet, and in a counter-clockwise orbit. He could see the different continents as they passed into view, and even some of the man-made objects like the Wales space bridge and the Madrid monument. Astonished, he reached out as if to touch it, when his hand was met by a blue flash.

In surprise, he withdrew his hand and examined it for any injury. Relieved that he couldn’t find anything wrong except a slightly dulled sense of touch, he turned to the Admiral who answered his question even before he asked it.

“Force field, not glass. We used to use transparent aluminum, but it proved too frail at high stress. When the room or rather the view isn’t being used, we lower the tritanium blinds.”
“Astonishing.”
“Quite, I’m sure.” He nodded. “Very well. Professor, I’m curious to know a bit more about your history. Feel free to speculate if you need to, but I’d prefer a clear view of what actually happened to your people.”

“There isn’t really much to tell that isn’t in the official history books any teenager would read while in school. Our history begins just over four hundred years ago. Little is known about what actually happened, but my faction’s speculations are that our ancestors had to abandon their starships and in some way found themselves stuck on the planet’s surface with no way back to the stars. How, why or where this took place, nobody really knows.”
West nodded, that much they’d already guessed.
“What we do know is that while they were a larger group of people, they lacked the equipment necessary to sustain their number for very long. It took several years before these people had stabilized themselves, a period we call the Age of Turmoil. It would seem there were several failed attempts at building more advanced equipment than what we can build today. There are numerous artifacts to prove this, but apparently to no avail.”

“I’d speculate, considering our history and your appearance that these people had to learn to live a more primitive life than they were used to. Many didn’t manage to make this transition as history tells us many died from hunger, disease or plain exposure to the elements. What followed this period was the Dark Ages, when it is said that most, if not all, of this ancient knowledge was eventually lost. Speculating again, I’d presume that while some of the knowledge was passed down in the families, it gradually lost meaning to the common people. Today most people see this knowledge is nothing but legend and stories, but we’ve made enormous progress from trying to replicate what we learn from them.”

“At the end of this Dark Age, we began to build our cities. We achieved a lot of scientific progress in just a few decades, going from a farming community of a few thousand, to an industrial world of millions in just a few centuries. That’s where we are now.”

“I see.” The Admiral looked saddened, as if he’d expected something else or maybe something more from Stevenson’s quick recital of the Draconis history.

“Professor, tell me about your engine project. To be fair, we debated whether to come here at all, but the debate only finished because we heard of that. You see, when a society is close to developing a working high fraction or even a true faster-than-light drive system, we have a tradition back home to approach said society. To introduce them to space in a safer, and less panicked way, than if they’d meet us or worse another more aggressive species out in open space.”
“I understand. We have stories about that, what was it called again?”
“The Prime Directive.”
“Yes. That was it. Anyways, my engine. Yes, of course.”


The recital had taken several hours, during which three other people had entered the conference room. They were each introduced as they entered, though they said little until the professor had finished. Diane found herself looking at him who’d been introduced as ‘Science Officer’ Suvok. His appearance was… familiar. The pointed ears, the sharp eyebrows, he looked so much like one of the Seleyans, yet more… defined. More like the original. Perhaps what they had said was true, and the Seleyans were actually of mixed heritage. The idea was beginning to take hold in her mind, though she still consciously tried to fight it off.

The others had been a ‘Chief Engineer’, a burly man in his thirties, called Kelly, and a ‘Lieutenant Commander’ Victoria who was quite possibly one of the most beautiful women Diane had ever seen. She was, for lack of a better word, perfect. Long golden hair that framed a beautiful face with deep blue eyes. Diane was widely considered a fine looking and graceful woman, but even she felt clumsy, even ugly, in comparison. She couldn’t quite understand these Starfleet people’s ability to keep their eyes to themselves. Jonah sure had problems doing that, and that was quite uncommon as he was still doing what he loved most, discussing his life’s work, which usually kept his mind clear and focused.

“…and with the theoretical success, we were granted funds to move on to the practical tests. We were supposed to join the rest of the team at the Wales space bridge to begin preparations of mounting the prototype to the test vessel. That’s about it, as we haven’t proceeded any further yet.”

Professor Stevenson took a sip of water, almost expecting to be assaulted by questions as usual in a lecture, but then realized he’d been reviewing his project with a crowd that had a better understanding of subspace physics than even he, the leading scientist in the field on his world, had. Admiral West turned to the late arrivals.

“What do you think, would this work?”
“It’s crude, sir, but no more so than the Phoenix’ drive system was.” Kelly responded with a slight smile. “Actually, sir, they’ve already managed to solve problems that Cochrane didn’t think of until much later in the project.”
“Sorry, Cochrane?” Jonah interjected.
“The man who invented faster than light travel on our homeworld.” Kelly answered. “And also the man who piloted the Phoenix, our first space warp capable ship.”
“Ah.” Stevenson nodded and blushed. “Brave man, I wouldn’t want to test my own engine design. I mean, I trust it and all, but I’m still not sure I’d want to be there when they turned it on.”
“He didn’t have much choice.” Kelly responded. “There weren’t many test pilots around where he built the ship.”
“He was also the man that initiated first contact.” Suvok added. “Admiral. I find these blueprints lacking a bit, but I mostly concur with the assessment of Lieutenant Kelly.”
“Thank you, Suvok. Vicky?”
“I calculate a success chance of ninety five point six one percent.” She paused for a second. “If they successfully remove the remaining flaws from the drive design, Admiral West.”
“Oh? Why not a hundred?”
“Admiral, even with my own far more advanced drive system, I do not have one hundred percent warp reliability, and the Federation has been warp capable for in excess of two centuries now. In fact, I only calculate my own to be…”
“That’s quite all right, Victoria.” West smiled and raised a hand. “You don’t need to be more precise than that.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Well then, I suppose we’re all right to proceed. They’re close enough even by the Prime Directive’s measure, and that’s not considering that they’re human.”
“I concur, Admiral.” Suvok added.
“I concur as well.” Captain West added.
“Fine, tell the rest of the group to join us, we’ll need to set up the parade. Vicky?”
“Yes, sir.” Her eyes became a little unfocused. “Relaying your commencement order to Hancock, Cook and Vancouver. Confirmed, they acknowledge receipt of orders and are heading towards the rendezvous coordinates.”
“Good. ETA?”
“Sixteen minutes, Admiral.”
“Good. Take the conn and move us into formation, Commander.”
“Yes, sir.”

Jonah and Diane both dropped their jaws completely when the good looking blonde just vanished into thin air leaving no evidence behind that she was ever even there. The Starfleet officers didn’t even look like they’d even noticed. The younger of the two brothers West noticed their faces and made a gentle smile.

“Never seen a hologram before, have you?”
“Hologram? No, can’t say I ever have.” He shook his head.
“Victoria is the ship’s AI.” The Captain explained. “A… newer… addition to our roster, in fact she’s only about a week old. Her primary function is to run the automated systems of the ship, but she can also utilize all equipment, systems and ships functions as easy as any man at their post from any position in the ship.”
“I… see.” He tried to wrap his head around that. “She’s very well programmed.”
“Actually, we can’t take credit for that.” The Captain shook his head. “We created the matrix, but she’s done most of her programming all by herself. She’s by all measurable means a sentient artificial life form, not just a program.”
“Sentient? You have sentient AI’s?!” Jonah was astonished. “That’s… unbelievable!”
“Yes, some. They’re a new technology and they’re not extremely common yet, but we do have them.”
“All of them that beautiful?” The professor looked towards where the hologram had been sitting for the last hour or so. “Or do all look exactly alike?”
“No, and to be quite fair, her original role model wasn’t that good looking either.” Henry laughed a little. “She originally took the name and appearance of Queen Victoria, one of the most famous regents ever to live on my home planet, but in the end she changed her mind and took the appearance of another woman, though she kept the name.”
“Oh?”
“Oh yes, most of our AI’s choose an appearance that links in some way to the name of the ship.” Henry explained. “The Albion is named after an ancient name for the island nation of Britain back home, and Queen Victoria was once the ruler of an empire centered on that very island. However, Victoria soon realized that while her role model may have been powerful and respected, she’d never been all that good looking, and our AIs can be very conscious about their outward appearance.”
“I see.” Jonah still had trouble coming to terms with the explanation. “From your calling it her, am I correct in assuming that you regard her as a person?”
“Not only that, but as a full member of my crew.” Henry nodded. “She’s very good at what she does, and honestly, she’s quite pleasing to rest your eyes on as well. Just have to remember she’s got a brain the size of a building, and that she sees and hears everything. Though that last part isn’t too different from any other woman.” The Captain winked at that last comment.
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t understand the underlying meaning, but on the other hand he’d never understood women, real or artificial.

The two men were the only people left in the room by now, and Jonah looked around and didn’t quite understand where all the other people had gone.

“We’re expected on the bridge.” Henry stated as to answer his unasked question. “Vicky’s never wrong, especially not when she’s in contact with the others.”
“Others?”
“Yes. We’re expecting some company, and their AI’s are just as good as she is.”
“I see. All this is very confusing, Captain. You have a very different society than I’m used to, so I hope you can forgive me for asking dumb questions.”
“Oh, no problems, professor.” He smiled. “I’m sure we can both learn from each other’s histories.”

As he looked at the corridors, rooms and compartments they passed during their brisk walk, Professor Stevenson seriously doubted there was anything these people could learn from him or his people. Sentient AI’s. Holograms. Point-to-point transportation. Force fields. Faster-than-light travel. Gods of Seleya, what were they going to show him next?

Jonah already had problems keeping his jaw firmly in place even before they entered the bridge, and what he got to see when he entered didn’t make it any easier. The bridge was spacious, but every possible part of the wall that could be covered by a computer console seemed to be just that. In addition to the ones on the wall there were several consoles in the middle of the floor, two in the front and another four in the back, which were all manned. On the other hand, he’d never been on an interstellar space ship before, and he had no trouble imagining all these consoles were necessary to control all this advanced technology.

There were also several seats without attached consoles in the middle of the room, arranged towards a large viewscreen that right now showed a wide view of his planet, Draconis. They seemed to be over the Britannian continent right now, the largest of the planet’s three continents, and it struck him that this very ship was named after the same original place as that entire continent was. Ironic. Here he’d doubted the truth of what he’d been told, when the mere name and history of the ship he was on was proof enough of their origins.

He had some trouble understanding even the basic principles of most of what he could see, even though he could at least identify that two of them seemed to show the subspace warp field. They had to be the engineering and helm control systems, but that was about all he could say. Seeing something work in theory was a completely different thing than seeing it in practice, and while he’d been working on warp field and subspace theory for sixteen years now, the numbers and figures on those screens were little but gibberish to him. That AI hadn’t been kidding when she had stated their people had literally centuries of experience with this kind of technology, since even the basic algorithms the displays showed were far beyond his own.

All the consoles and stations were manned, but most by officers and crew that he hadn’t been introduced to before. The ship’s AI, Victoria, was seated in the larger of the center chairs. She didn’t seem to be doing much of everything at the moment, but if it was true that she was just an image of the ships computer, she probably didn’t have to move around or talk to get things done. The science officer, another face he recognized, was at one of the rear stations, and the Admiral himself was standing on the floor near the center chair.

The stunning avatar rose from her seat and announced “Captain on the bridge.” As the Captain acknowledged her, she shifted to the seat to the left of the command chair, and as soon as her body hit the chair she looked absent again.

“Sirs, Hancock reports the others will be entering visual range… now.”

The viewscreen shifted to the aft view, framed by the ship’s two nacelles, and Jonah stopped, stunned, in the middle of a step. He almost fell on his behind as he saw what approached.

Three ships were rapidly approaching the one he was on, and the ships were huge by all measurements Jonah could use. The left and right looked like they were of the same design, somewhat blocky in some sections but gracefully curved in others. The third and middle ship seemed to consist of nothing but curves, and looked almost aerodynamic in comparison, while the outer ships looked very much like sharpened arrows as they slid through the darkness of space. The ships had a peculiar design, with a hull that seemed divided into four separate sections. He knew enough about warp drives to understand that the two parallel rear structures were probably the drive coils that created the warp field, but he was still astonished by their sheer size.

As the ships got closer, he could see that all three ships had the same basic design even though the four components themselves looked very different when comparing the center ship with the outer two. Where on the outer ships the drive coils consisted of sharp angles and flat areas, the middle vessel’s looked almost completely rounded. After a few seconds, he realized the outer pair of ships had to be at least partially the same design as the one he was on, as he started to compare their components to the ones he could see on the viewscreen’s edges as belonging to this ship.

However, the upper bodies, which must be the main body of the ships, looked much like spoons or saucers turned upside down. Kitchenware, but kitchenware the size of small moons from his perspective. The entirety of the upper and lower hulls of each vessel was riddled with smaller white lights, which he realized must be windows or portholes. How many people were on these ships? Hundreds? Thousands? He’d already seen dozens so far on this ship, and he quickly realized from the size of the incoming ships that he’d barely scratched the surface yet. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if this ship was larger or smaller than the ones approaching it.

On all three approaching ships, as well as on the one he was on, the twin drive tubes shone with a blue glow from their sides, and an eerie red glow from their fronts. The purpose of this light eluded him but on the other hand, he’d never even more than scratched the surface of the practical issues of drive coil design, which was an issue another department in New Venice was working on, and even then he’d never even considered making one the size of the ones these people used. The lower bodies of the three ships also had a dull blue glow from an oval depression in their centers, again something he didn’t yet understand the reason for.

The center ship was only slightly less intimidating than the others. While much rounder he estimated that the main body was more than twice the width of the others. It looked circular but from his angle, it was hard to be certain. It seemed to lack the lower body the others had, but had a smaller structure above the main body instead, and the drive coil structures seemed located on the lower part of the ship. Why they’d use a different overall design he didn’t know. Though, admittedly, he didn’t even begin to understand the possible pros and cons of one over the other. He felt like the new impressions were overloading the logical parts of his brain.

The three ships coming at them from behind slowed down as they closed the distance, and then settled into formation.

“Captain, Independence, Discovery and Endeavour all report ready. They’re entering our orbit.”
“Good. We’re ready, Admiral.”
“Thank you, Henry.” Admiral West nodded. “Vicky, tell the Endeavour to prepare their diplomatic team. Time to make some history.”

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 12


USS ENDEAVOUR
IN ORBIT OF SIGMA DRACONIS III
AUGUST 14, 2244


”I’ve seen the evidence, and I see the holes and gaps in our own history filling up nicely enough, but I still find all of this quite hard to believe, Ambassador.”
“I understand your doubts, Chancellor, I truly do.” Fontaine replied. “In your position, I may well have the same doubts considering the implications. What is important however is for us to both understand that the very history of our two peoples are linked, even though we can’t give you an exact reconstruction of yours.”
“True. I must say I’m quite overwhelmed by what I’ve seen so far. Your people and your ships are all very impressive, and your offer to help solve a few of our major civic problems are very much appreciated by the council.”
“It was the least we could do.” Fontaine replied. “As I said, we’re here to help.”

The two men were walking through a corridor that would take them from the rear observation lounge straight through the ship all the way to the bridge. There wasn’t much of a view, since they were far from the outer hull there were no windows or portholes but only more corridors and computer displays. Still, the leader of the Phoenix Council was impressed enough not to need any more visuals of his home planet from orbit.

“Please, Ambassador, can I ask you to tell me the history of this ship?”
“I’d love to, but I’m really not the right person to ask. You see, I’m only attached to the ship as a diplomatic liaison. My actual posting is at Fleet Command back on Sirius.”
“I see.” The Chancellor nodded. “I’d still love to hear it.”
“I believe I can grant you your wish though.” Fontaine smiled. “Computer, is Cook available?”
“Affirmative.”
“Please, request that he join the Chancellor and me as soon as possible.”

The computer only beeped in response. The Chancellor had met Cook once or twice before, and now that he knew what to expect he didn’t jump several feet into the air when the ship’s avatar materialized anymore. His face still went a few shades paler though, as being aware of what to expect still wasn’t the same thing as being used to it. Or, for that sake, ever getting used to it. He held the greatest respect for the Ambassador, who didn’t even seem surprised at the method of the AI’s appearance.

“Lieutenant Commander James Cook, reporting as ordered, Ambassador.”
“Thank you, Commander.” The Ambassador stopped and looked straight at the AI. “I’m pleased you could come so soon.”

Like most of the ships’ avatars, Cook had opted to forego the normal Starfleet uniform and had instead chosen an appearance dressed in the old Royal British Navy uniform. With a dark blue uniform jacket, shining black leather boots and white shirt and breeches, he looked like someone that had walked straight out of Horatio Hornblower, a program the Ambassador liked to spend a little time in now and then. Albeit still wearing the epaulettes of a Lieutenant Commander even these were of the ancient kind, gold embroidery on the naval blue jacket instead of the golden pips the modern officers wore. He even had a white wig to top off the entirety of his eighteenth-century appearance.

“Commander, the Chancellor has expressed some interest in the history of the Endeavour.” Fontaine smiled. “I do believe you’re the best authority on the subject.”
“Understood, sir.” Cook turned towards the aged Chancellor and continued. “Where would you like me to begin, sir?”
“How about the beginning, Commander?”
“Of course. The name Endeavour comes from ancient human history, where it was used to name nine naval ships of the line and exploration vessels in the old British Empire. It was first used in the year 1652, more than seven hundred years ago relatively speaking, and the most famous ship of the ancient type was the HMS Bark Endeavour which in 1768 began the first of three voyages of exploration into the largest ocean on the planet, under the command of my namesake, James Cook.”
“British Empire? I suppose there’s some link to our Britannian continent there. Continue, please, Commander.”
“That supposition is correct.” Cook replied. “The island of Great Britain, or Britannia as it was called by the older Roman culture, was the center of that empire.”
“I see, that sounds plausible.”
“The name Endeavour was carried on into the early space program, being first the project name of one of the first lunar missions, and later the name of one of the first space shuttles. The name has been used for six starships, first under United Earth and later under Starfleet registry. Unlike many other ships, however, she has not retained her registry number.”
“Oh?” The Chancellor asked. “What does that mean?”
“Normally, ships that are commissioned with the name of a previous starship will also be given their older namesake’s registry number. This was not done with the Endeavour. Had it been, she’d be called the NCC-1001-E. The reason for this is simple, the second starship to be named Endeavour to enter service did so before this tradition had started, and since it had already been broken the tradition was never established for her name.”
“I see. Why don’t you just start to follow the tradition now then?”
“While I’d be honored to carry that registry, it would not be fair to all the other Endeavours that have been in service.”
“Sentimentality? From an AI?” The Chancellor smiled. “That is a surprise, Commander Cook. I didn’t know computers could feel that way.”
“That may be, sir, but never the less.” Cook shrugged. “It would serve no real purpose except to strengthen my ego, and I have little use for a boost in that aspect of my personality.”
“That’s an exceptional point of view, Commander.” The Chancellor looked amazed. “If only more humans thought that way.”

Cook looked like he needed to rethink his reply on that a few times, to formulate it in a way the less advanced human could understand.

“No, not really, sir.” The AI almost seemed to sigh. “Whatever you may experience me to be, I am a starship, sir. Primarily a ship of exploration, sure, but I am also a very capable warship. My ego is that of a Starfleet Cruiser, not the image you see before you, and in that aspect I have no problems satisfying my self-image, Chancellor.”
“I believe you, Commander.” The Chancellor almost laughed. “I believe you.”
“To continue on our original subject, Chancellor, the name has been used to name a total of seventeen ships during the time humanity has been exploring, first on their own world, and later in space. The current Endeavour, registry NCC-71805, is the latest and has been in service for 20 years. It was first built and equipped as a long range Nebula-class explorer, but was later refitted to serve as a ship of the line, specifically as a medium-weight cruiser, with an extended weapons load and heavier ablative armor.”
“A ship of war?” The Chancellor asked.
“No more so than it had to be, Chancellor.” Cook actually blushed. “I am still more than capable of the same long-range exploration I was originally built for, but I have far more means to defend myself and my crew now than I once had.”
“I see, I believe I’d need a far deeper course in your history to understand what would possibly threaten anyone that wields this kind of technology.”
“I could…”
“Thank you, Commander.” The Ambassador stopped him before he started to recite all of the Federation’s history of war and conflict. That’d take forever, and they didn’t have all day. “That’ll be quite enough, I believe.”
“I understand, Ambassador.” The avatar almost looked irritated at the interruption. “Will you be requiring any more of my services?”
“No, thank you.” Fontaine replied and tried to smooth out the AI’s bruised ego. It was true, he didn’t need any more of that. “But thank you for offering, Commander.”
“If you need me, I will be on the bridge, Ambassador.”
“Thank you, Commander.”

With a dull flash of light, the image of the man clad in the ancient uniform seemed to fold into itself several times, until it disappeared.

“Ambassador…” The Chancellor looked like he’d handled the disappearance of the AI a little better this time. “It almost looked like you bruised its feelings?”
“His, not its, Chancellor.” Fontaine smiled. “And yes, I’m quite certain I did.”
“I thought he was just a human-form appearance of the ship’s main computer?”
“Not quite, Chancellor.” The Ambassador laughed a little. “He may be far wiser than either of us, and far more intelligent, but he’s also much like any human child. In our terms a sentient life form is a sentient life form, no matter if it’s biological, mechanical or in Cook’s case, holographic. And he’s very much sentient, with feelings and thoughts just like you or me.”
“All right, but why the reference to a child?” The Chancellor asked. “After all, he looks and sounds like a middle-aged man.”
“True.” Fontaine replied. “But while his appearance is one thing, you have to remember that he’s actually only a few weeks old. He has the knowledge of the entire Federation database, sure, but he’s still not what you or I would call emotionally mature yet. As far as we can apply human developmental terms to an artificial intelligence.”

The Chancellor had his qualms about what the Ambassador had said, but he tried to keep an open mind.

“I understand, I think. You have a very liberal view on this, and while I’d hope we’d share it I suppose we’d treat these artificial life forms quite differently than you do when we’d eventually develop the technology.”
“We used to as well, but we learned from our mistakes, Chancellor, as I’m sure you would.” Fontaine shrugged. “Once, we treated them much like you’d treat forced labor, even slaves. We nearly ended up with a revolt on our hands. Now, we treat them like we treat any other member of the crew, with the respect and honor they deserve, and in turn they treat us with the same respect as well.”
“But he’s your ship?” The Chancellor retorted. “Someone must be in command?”
“True, but that’s where rank comes in. Cook is the ship, in one aspect he’s every nook and cranny of it, but at the same time, he’s separated from it. I can’t go into detail as I’m nowhere close to an AI programming expert, but there are some borders in the computer mainframe he can’t cross without authorization from a superior officer.”

Fontaine stopped to take a breather; his feet felt like his age was showing.

“Thus, in another aspect he’s just another crewman. A crewman with extraordinary abilities, sure, but still just another crewman. He is fourth in command of the ship, answering to the Captain, the XO and the Chief Engineer. To all other personnel, he’s a superior officer. In essence, he has the same rank as the ship’s Chief of Operations. The goal is that the avatars will replace those officers in the immediate future.”
“I see.”

The Chancellor seemed just as astonished at the idea as before he’d gotten his answer, but the Ambassador didn’t force the issue. It had taken Starfleet fifty years to fully acknowledge the civil rights of artificial life forms, and you couldn’t really expect a person that had just encountered his first one to do the same in less than a week.

“Is he the only one of his kind?” The Ambassador didn’t seem to want to let the issue go just as quickly.
“Here on the ship, or in our civilization?” Fontaine replied.
“Well, both, I suppose.”
“Well, no, to either question. After the successful development of the Avatars, we extended our earlier medical and engineering holograms. They are less developed than Cook is though, since they aren’t powered by the entire computer core, and prefer to stay near their assigned stations in sickbay and main engineering. Though I’ve seen some changes to their behavior as well since Cook came into existence.”
“Ah.”
“As for the rest of the civilization, well, we didn’t use to create too many of them until just a few weeks ago. Now, most of our ships that are able to handle the system are being, or already are, fitted with the avatar system. The same is also true for some of our facilities back home.”

Fontaine decided to make his point clearer.

“You see, we’ve had the ability to create sentient holograms for some time, about twenty years or so, though these were limited in movement as well as capacity. Their matrices simply couldn’t handle the amount of data they’d be exposed to over longer periods of time. We made a technological breakthrough that made this latest kind possible only a very short time ago. As they solve a lot of our own immediate problems, such as a lack of personnel, they’ve been pretty much rushed into service.”
“Oh.” The Chancellor scratched his neck, a gesture that looked fairly awkward. “I think I’d like to meet more of these avatars of yours.”
“You will.” Fontaine chuckled and motioned for the two elder men to continue, they were almost at the bridge. “Sooner than you might think, Ambassador.”


NCC-75027 - USS ALBION
CLOSE TO SIGMA DRACONIS


He’d been led through most of the ship by now, an impressive amount of systems and specifications had been listed, but he’d been letting a lot of it just glance off his conscious mind until they reached his own personal goal. The professor’s tour of the ship had come to a screeching halt in the main engineering bay, as soon as he’d locked his eyes on the giant tube that was the main warp core he’d stopped and started to ask a million questions.

The answers he’d been getting only seemed to spark even more questions, and even though the Chief Engineer seemed only all too willing to help answer the ones he had, he did have a ship to run. Even though Victoria did most of the real work and the crew had a lax time while the ship was just cruising through the solar system staying out of sight, it was still time the engineer thought could be better spent running diagnostics or managing other things than answering the questions of this overzealous professor.

“That can’t be right!”
“I assure you professor, it’s quite right.”
“But…” Professor Stevenson was almost speechless. “That would mean you could produce more power by the minute than our world would use in a year!”
“That may be, professor.” Kelly gave a faint smile. “It takes a bit of umph to get this barge going as fast as she’s designed to.”
“How do you generate that much?”
“It’s quite simple.” Kelly explained. “Inside the warp core, which is in fact little more than a shielding and control system for the reaction chamber itself, you have a matter-antimatter reaction. The reaction itself is based on deuterium and anti-deuterium, and is governed by a dilithium crystal matrix.”
“An antimatter reactor? Isn’t that very risky?”
“Not if handled and controlled properly. It’s also one of the only ways to produce the required amount of power, and the one Starfleet understands best. We’ve been using them for a little less than a hundred and fifty years by now.”
“I see.”
“The warp engine would normally use most of the energy output, but it’s also the main power plant for the other ships systems as well. Though the hotel systems are usually powered by secondary, sometimes even independent, power sources.”
“What about fuel?”
“We only carry a fairly limited amount of deuterium at any given time, as it’s easy enough to harvest from a planet or stellar atmosphere, and the Bussard Collectors located in the forward part of the nacelles make it possible to gather it from space as well. The deuterium is then used both for the antimatter reactor and the secondary fusion reactors, of which the Albion have several.”
“And the antimatter?”
“We carry enough for about a year’s worth of warp, several tonnes worth, in highly shielded and ejectable pods. After that, we need to get replacement pods from a conversion facility, or manufacture our own. The latter is an inefficient use of our time, but something most explorer class vessels can do given enough time.”
“I see.” Stevenson scratched his chin. “My people have only been able to manufacture single particles of antimatter using a high-energy supercollider, but I suppose you have a more efficient way of doing this?”
“Yes.” Kelly smiled. “It’s called quantum inversion, a process that requires quite a lot of energy but produces a good amount of antimatter. You see, by manipulating matter at the quantum level, we’re able to change the internal structure of the electrons and protons in several kilos worth of material at a time.”
“Oh.” Jonah stared blankly into the reactor.
“The process is highly radioactive and truth be told it’s a bit inefficient seen to the amount of energy you need for the inversion versus the final output, but it works. All you really need is a good source of energy to power it, and if we can park near a star or in a nebula we have all the deuterium we need to power the process with our fusion reactors.”

Jonah was having trouble processing all this information. His own engine, designed, tested and powered by a relatively small fusion reactor, was only designed to take the test vehicle to a speed of one and a half times the speed of light. A measly one point two on this ‘warp scale’, and yet another pointer to how far more advanced these people were than his own. This ship, at least a hundred times larger and heavier, topped the speed of his cutting-edge technology engine more than eight thousand times! It was like the legends of the old giants, which leapt between the stars on a whim. Or rather, he realized in awe, the source of that very legend.

He shook his head, this was more than he’d bargained for when he started his project.

“If I may ask, Lieutenant Kelly.” He sighed. “How are you able to actually get all that power to the warp drive system? All materials I know of would melt instantly from the heat an electrical charge of that strength would produce.”
“Easy, we use a plasma based energy transfer system.” He pointed to the pipes sticking out of the warp core assembly. “Those two feed the ship’s primary energy system, one going in each direction across the entirety of the ship, one to the port and one to the starboard. Those two feed the warp nacelles, one for each. There are a number of return conduits on the floors below us, where the spent plasma gets recycled into the reactor.”
“Plasma?” Lord, why didn’t he think of that? It was the obvious solution. “But the heat, radiation and other side effects?”
“We use high-energy magnetic containment, so the plasma never actually touches anything, as well as shielded materials to protect against possible radioactivity. For the eventual power output we use EPS taps to convert the necessary amount of kinetic and thermal power into electric power at the point where it’s needed.”
“I see. What happens to the spent plasma?”
“Most of it is recycled, going back into the reactor to be used again, but it is also used in a variety of other ways.” Kelly pointed to a screen. “Some of it is denatured and used as propellant for the impulse drive.”
“I understand, another one of your technological gizmos at work?”
“Yes, I guess that’s true.” Kelly flashed a smile, it wasn’t the first time, but he enjoyed having a scientist having to resort to words such as ‘gizmos’. “The Impulse drive is our slower than light engine.”
“How fast is she?”
“Depends. In warp or out of?”
“I suppose I’d have to ask for both, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“The impulse drive can take us up to just over the speed of light, although we restrict its use to less than point eight C. The effects of relativity start being more and more an issue past that point, since it doesn’t employ warping space but is more like an ion engine on steroids.” He looked at the impulse controls. “In essence, we can get to somewhere around a hundred and fifty thousand miles per second, and we can reach that speed in just under twenty seconds.”
“That’s…” Jonah couldn’t even calculate it. “That’s an enormous amount of G-forces.”
“We have inertial dampeners for that, they work by reducing our relative mass which in turn reduces the inertial force.”
“Oh…” Jonah didn’t understand even the basic principles of that technology. “I see… I think.”
“We normally use warp if we want to go somewhere fast though, and normally we don’t go faster than warp factor nine point five or so, but she’s rated to manage nine point nine eight two in a crunch. We can’t hold that speed for more than a few hours until we start seeing material fatigue though, and we’ll have to be on our toes the entire time.”
“I’m not all that familiar with your warp factors, Lieutenant.”
“Oh, it’s a scale based on the relativistic movement of space. Let’s see…” He scratched his goatee and continued after a few seconds. “Warp factor nine should be around, or rather just over, fifteen hundred times the speed of light.”
“You’re kidding.” Stevenson dropped his jaw completely. “Nothing can go that fast, not even with warp technology.”
“Heh, we thought so too when we first discovered it. Our top speed, nine point nine eight two or so, is over ten times that. Almost sixteen thousand times the speed of light.”
“Lord! It’s an exponential scale?” Stevenson was pale as a sheet right now.
“Exponential, as well as logarithmic.” Kelly nodded. “Warp one would be the speed of light, five would be just over two hundred times that and factor seven some six hundred and fifty C.”
“So your nine point five would be?”
“Twenty five hundred C or so.” Kelly looked to the softly swirling core again. “That’s our normal cruising speed if we need to go somewhere fast.”
“That’d take us from here to Asantra in just under a day! Gods that’s fast.” He went yet another shade paler. “That puts a little more reality into interstellar travel, doesn’t it…”
“Asantra?” Kelly didn’t recognize the name from either their own or the native races’ star charts. “Where’s that?”
“A yellow star some six or so light years from here. The closest star in terms of distance, and stellar class, to our own.” Stevenson explained.
“Ah, I see. We have another name for it.” Kelly chuckled.
“Oh, really?” Stevenson looked interrogative.
“Yes.” Kelly looked into the clouded warp core again. “We call it ‘Sol’.”
“Sol?”
“Yes. Professor, Sol.” Kelly sighed and looked the Professor in the face. “I believe it’s time you continued your tour. I have things to take care of which can’t wait any longer.” He turned around and tapped a control on the wall. “Engineering to Victoria.”
“Victoria here, Chief.”
“Victoria, can I ask you to take our guest through the rest of his tour?”
The voice of the ships AI came as a gentle breeze over the intercom. “I’ll be there momentarily, Chief.”
“Thank you, Victoria.”

Kelly barely had time to finish his sentence before the dazzling visage of the ship’s avatar materialized just a few feet away. He didn’t quite agree with the rest of the senior staff. It didn’t matter if she was artificial; it didn’t matter if she had a brain the size of half the ship. It didn’t matter if she was better armed than an Orion pirate. She was gorgeous, she wasn’t married, and that was all that mattered when it came to women.

“Professor Stevenson, follow me please.”
“Gladly, Victoria.” Jonah didn’t really care that he was taken away from this place, not if she was the one that was taking him.

The guest and the avatar left through the main entrance, and Kelly was cut off from his view of the young, breathtaking, woman.

“Jesus. That lady really makes it hard to concentrate sometimes.”
“Hah, she’s way out of your league, Chief.” The comment came from one of the junior staff.
“What are women for, if not to dream about and waste time thinking about?”
“You do know she can hear you, don’t you?”
“Of course I know. I installed those sensors myself.”
“Plus.” The curt woman that was handling the main core console added. “I bet her dad would have objections.”
“Her dad?” Kelly didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Michelle?”
“Didn’t you know?” She flashed a toothy smile at him.
“What?” Kelly just grew more questioning.
“Victoria, like most of the second and later generation AI’s, were created by two other AI’s.” Michelle laughed. “In her case, by Hancock and Athena. She considers them her parents, just as they consider her their daughter.”
“Oh lord.” Kelly realized what she was talking about.
“Yup. You’d better watch yourself; you don’t want to get on the wrong side of both the Aquilae and the Independence.”
“Michelle...”
“Plus, I think she’s got a thing for the Captain.” Michelle was just teasing now, but still. “As I said, out of your league, Kelly.”
“Bah” Kelly frowned. “And that’s Lieutenant Kelly to you, Yeoman Yves.”
“You’re no fun…” She smiled, and waited another second before adding “Lieutenant.”


PHOENIX COUNCIL
BRETON CITY, DRACONIS


The council chamber was one of the oldest gathering places on the planet, styled after another, even more ancient design. The Chancellor only just now realized it as being nothing less than a replica of a Federation starship bridge. It was even arranged similarly, with the Chancellor and the two major spokespersons seated in the middle, where the Captain, First Officer and Avatar sat on the spacecraft, and the rest of the council seated around them like the bridge crew would. Or rather, they should have been. At the moment, there was quite a lot of commotion and general chatter about the news they’d all been presented with moments ago.

“Ladies, gentlemen, please. We’ve only heard part of the story as of yet, and I assure you all, it’s all true. I’ve seen the evidence, and there’s no other possible conclusion that can be drawn from it.” Chancellor Callaghan tried to dampen the debate that had broken out after the first presentation of the visitors and their shared origins.
“Callaghan, you expect us to believe that these people are in fact some of our own ancestors! It’s ridiculous!”
“No, Sir James, I don’t. As I said, they’re from the same organization and civilization, but they’re not our ancestors.”
“Proof! I want proof!” The elderly shape that was Councilwoman Bannerman rose from her seat. “All this talk is very convincing, but there’s no proof that I can see, that I can touch.

A man, not dressed in the same grey and black uniform that most of the guests to the proceedings used, came forward. He was balding and looked like he was in his sixties, but carried himself in a way that didn’t request the respect of his surrounding but rather demanded it.

“I request that this council will allow me to speak.”
“I will grant you that, Ambassador Fontaine.” The Chancellor almost seemed relieved.
“Councilwoman, if I may ask, what proof would you first want to see?”
“Ambassador… Fontaine, was it?” The man just nodded. “What proof is there that we really come from your society?”
“Ma’am, with your permission, I’d like to extrapolate on that subject.”
She just nodded.
“There’s an area of the northern wastes here on the Britannian continent that you haven’t been able to enter due to the severe amount of radiation, as well as the particularly harsh climate in the area.” Fontaine pointed at the specific location on the large world map that took the area where there’d usually be a viewscreen. “Had you actually been able to get there, this is what you’d find buried beneath the snow.”

He tapped his communicator twice, and stepped back from the lower area of the chamber.
It didn’t take long for the area to glow with the familiar blue shimmer of a transporter, and within seconds, it had deposited its load. It was a large piece of metal, twisted and turned from its original shape and still covered in ice and snow.

“I would ask the councilwoman to be so kind as to identify this metal; it should be easy considering she’s the head of the geological and metallurgical faculties at the Breton University.”

The councilwoman left her seat and slowly paced over to the large piece of twisted metal. She carefully avoided the pools of water that were starting to form around it as the ice melted away, but still managed to get her sleeves wet as she examined it. Then, as if struck by lightning, she went very pale and took two steps back.

“Councilwoman?” Fontaine had known some of what to expect, though not the details, but even so her reaction still surprised him. “Are you all right?”
“I…”
“Councilwoman Bannerman. What did you find?” Chancellor Callaghan asked.
“I… I can’t identify the material, Chancellor. It resembles titanium, but if it was, it should have shattered and not buckled and twisted as this material has.”
“That surely can’t be the only reason for your reaction though.” Callaghan almost mused, as Bannerman was a constant contender for the post as Chancellor. “What was it, councilwoman?”
“Ehm.” She looked around, like she was frantically searching for a way out of the situation, but as there was none she resorted to a resigned look as she answered. “No, what caused my reaction were the markings on the piece, and not the material itself.”
“And what exactly were these markings?” Fontaine asked.
“English writing. A numerical sequence, followed by a few words.”
“Councilwoman, answer the question, please.” Sir James called from the other side of the chamber. “We’re waiting.”
She sighed. “Two one one six six, dash, A. USS London. United Federation of Planets.”
“If I may, Chancellor?” Fontaine interjected with a pleased look on his face.

Callaghan just nodded.

“The London was a Federation starship, Nebula class, which according to our best knowledge and latest intelligence report was attached to the sixth fleet. Her last known mission was to assist two other Federation starships, the Portsmouth and the Edinburgh, in the evacuation efforts of several Federation colony worlds along a border we shared with a hostile power.”

This had quite an impact at the gathered council. The mention of these three ships, each and every one being not only the stuff of legend but also the source of the names of three of their largest cities was something that they didn’t quite know how to handle.

“I could order up a piece of hull from each of the other ships as well, if you request it. We’ve been to the crash sites and found the remains of all three vessels, and though they were all in bad shape we even managed to salvage fragments of their ships logs.”
“I believe that will not be necessary, Ambassador.” The Chancellor stated. “Can you get that piece of junk off the floor before it ruins the carpet?”
“Of course, Chancellor.”

A touch of his communicator and a few seconds later, all that remained was a wet spot on the carpet.

“In essence, I ask the Phoenix council to accept the fact that you are all the descendents of the brave crews of the starships London, Portsmouth and Edinburgh. Three ships that carried colonists away from a conflict zone, and were most likely swept off course by what we call a subspace bubble.” Fontaine took a sip of water before continuing. “We don’t know how, or why, these three ships ended up where they did. Fact is, we still don’t understand exactly what happened to our own fleet. We can’t explain how it came that we were swept to the same universe, but a completely different time, than your ancestors. What we do know is that it happened, and that both of our peoples are in the same situation.”

The discussion had sparked up again, and the Chancellor was beating his hand against his chair repeatedly.

“Order, order!”

As the council slowly began to sit down and the noise level dropped, the Ambassador resumed his monologue.

“It seems wrong that we should be two people, when we were once the same. I understand that you don’t trust us entirely quite yet, and please understand we understand your reasons and fears. We have not had the time to show you all that we can do for your people, and I’m sure you don’t fully realize the positive contributions your people can make in our society either. I understand this, and I hope you do too, but that’s something both our societies can work on. It shouldn’t be a hindrance.”

“And exactly what could our society hope to do for you?” Bannerman asked. “Your people are centuries ahead of us in any field of technology, and surely you have no need for what little resources our people can spare.”
“Those are both valid points.” Fontaine nodded. “But both our societies have needs that the other can fill. In our case, we can offer little but knowledge and technology, but I’m afraid what we’d require in return wouldn’t be as simple as resources or data disks. What our society needs is people.”
“People?” Bannerman almost screamed. “You want to trade… for people?!”
“Yes, ma’am.” Fontaine raised his hand. “And at the same time, no. Let me explain.” He took a deep breath. “Our own population isn’t large enough to support the ships we have, and since most of us are military or support personnel, we will be in even worse straits in a few years since we have practically no children. Sure, there’s the exceptionally few that we had evacuated before we got caught here, but they’re not enough to replace our numbers as we grow older.”

He closed his eyes. This had been the hardest realization for most of his people, that there’d be no one else there to take over their duties for years to come, that their ranks would dwindle for at least two or three decades until the next generation could take over.

“What we want is for our two societies to become one, as it is the only way we can remain a space-faring civilization. I therefore propose a tentative alliance, which will allow us to get to know each other better. Our goal with this alliance is simple, that we can one day rejoin and become the same people once again, like we were all those years ago.”

What order had been thrust upon the council members by his sad tale, had now disappeared completely as he’d finished speaking. There was heated discussion everywhere Fontaine looked. He suddenly felt very old. He’d never really been much of a diplomat, what experience he had came from his years working with the Romulans of all people. It wasn’t really the kind of experience that was applicable to another civilization of humans. Still, as the Admiral had said, he was the most experienced, and the only, trained diplomat they had.

“Ambassador.” The Chancellor had stepped down from his chair and was leaning close to be heard over the heated discussions. “I believe it would be best if you let us deliberate for a while. I’ll contact you when the council has an answer for you.”
“Thank you, Chancellor.”

As much for the effect as for the expediency, he tapped his communicator twice again. Cook knew what it meant, and two seconds later, the blue glowing light had removed him from the room, stunning the entire assembly of the Phoenix Council.

Next thing he knew, he was on a pad in the secondary transporter room on the Endeavour. Cook and Captain Halsey were both standing below expecting him, and as he stepped down from the transporter pad and headed out and towards his quarters the two men fell in beside him.

“Ambassador, how’d it go?” Captain Halsey asked. “You were down there for quite some time, but I did expect it to take far longer.”
“Three point six hours to be exact, Ambassador.” Cook added. “But I am surprised as well. Did the meeting progress towards the favored result?”
“I don’t know yet.” Fontaine sighed. “They’ll need to deliberate, and I’d just be in the way right now.”
“Explain.” Cook said, his very statement verifying that while an AI was smarter than most people, they couldn’t always understand what was hidden in the underlying context.
“You see, humans find it hard to express their true feelings around strangers. I’d impeach their ability to ask the right, and the wrong, questions.”
“Fascinating.” Cook replied. “Is this due to a preferred secrecy?”
“Not really, it has to do with ego.” Halsey smiled. “Or, rather, not wanting to make a fool out of oneself in front of others.”
“Ah. I understand.”
Halsey made a short laugh; Cook’s responses made him remember an old acquaintance, one that he missed.
“Captain, did you find my question funny?”
“Oh, not at all, Cook. Not at all. You just reminded me of an old friend.”
“I see. May I ask who?”
“Ensign Data. Or, well, at least he was an Ensign back then.”
“I see. I shall take it as a compliment then.”
“You do that, Cook, you do that.” Halsey kept smiling.

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 13


ORBITAL COMMAND
AQUILAE STATION


She felt just about the same about being called out of bed at four in the morning as most other human beings would. It wasn’t all that strange; most living beings had an internal clock that didn’t appreciate getting out of sync, and it would protest every time you tried to go against what it considered a normal sleep schedule.

Either way, she hoped whatever reason she’d been woken was really something that deserved the attention of the highest ranking Admiral in the system. Otherwise, heads would roll.

Entering the command bridge, she felt positive it was. All of the duty personnel were milling around, checking consoles and readouts, in what looked like the sort of organized chaos it was. It almost made her feel pride in her crew and the fact that they’d perform as well as they seemed to even after all this time.

“Report!” Admiral Keyes said only a little too loudly as she was squelching a yawn. “What on Earth could be important enough to call me out of bed at this time of night?”
“Admiral, good.” Commander Korash, the Klingon night watch officer motioned towards one of the sensor consoles. “I am sorry I had to wake you, but you’d better take a look at this.”
“This had better not be another comet, Korash.” Keyes yawned. “If it is, I’ll have you transferred to the waste disposal units.”
“I’m quite sure it’s not, ma’am.” Korash smiled. “I believe such a transfer would be… unwarranted.”
“Let’s see what you’ve found then.” She leaned over the shoulder of the massive Klingon and looked at the display. Her face instantly went a brighter shade of pale. “Gods be... How long have we been tracking this?”
“We’ve been tracking it for a little more than ten minutes, ma’am.” The Klingon gave a toothy grin. “Since just after the contacts passed close enough to the sensor buoys between Sol and Alpha Centauri for us to pick them up. Heading, as well as type, is confirmed.”
“Lords. Time until they arrive?”
“Less than a day.” Korash replied. “Maybe twenty hours, it’s hard to tell from this distance.”
“Not enough time, not nearly enough.”
“No, Admiral.”

She looked at the screen again. They’d only been able to track the movement of the native ships for less than a month. T’Pell and his crew had been instrumental in giving the Starfleet engineers and scientists a basic understanding of this ‘Hyperspace’ that the local races used for faster-than-light travel.

They didn’t understand it well enough to construct a jump drive that was compatible with Federation technology yet, or for that sake to build a jump gate, but they’d gained a good understanding of the fact that certain forces in normal space would affect hyperspace, and vice versa. The entire basis of these hyperspace sensors was a subspace sensor grid that they’d deployed in the void between their own star system and their neighbors, since subspace seemed to have the closest links to hyperspace.

Gravity had been the most apparent force at play and since a ship had a fairly large mass it was also a small gravity well, they had been able to use high-resolution gravity sensors to track ships traversing hyperspace. It wasn’t perfect, as smaller ships or even small groups of ships could slip through undetected and it sure wasn’t clear enough to give exact numbers or even the types of ships it detected.

It also gave confusing readings sometimes, as the native races used massive cargo and military ships that displaced more mass than a dozen smaller ships would and as such, they couldn’t trust the system completely. This was a problem that the engineers were still working to solve, as any first exploration vessel to enter their own solar system would most likely be a single ship, and not a massive fleet.

In this case, that was not an issue. The displacement was way larger than that of any single ship, even more massive than a small group of the huge Nova dreadnoughts which were the single largest warships they’d encountered so far in this reality. As for who and why, the sensors couldn’t tell. The course and speed were the only two facts they were left with, and both pointed in a single direction. A single, unmistakable, possible destination.

“Can we get a secure line to the flagship?” Elisha asked her third in command. “We need to let them know.”
“No, ma’am. There’s too much subspace interference.” Korash frowned. “Probably jamming, but we don’t know for sure. There’s still much we don’t know about the local races, and many of them use technologies that have had unforeseen side effects on our own.”

Admiral Keyes thought for a second, playing a little with a loose strand of hair that kept falling on her face.

“Tell Athena to get Bellerophon on the comm, and to tell him I’ll be beaming over momentarily.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Get the word out, I’m initiating Protocol Beta. I want the fleets’ replies sent to me as soon as I’m aboard.”
“Understood.” Korash nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
“Wish us luck, Korash.” She sighed. “God knows we’ll need it.”
“Luck is for fools that don’t know how to fight.” He grinned. “But I will offer you this instead. Kaplah, Admiral!”
“Kaplah!” She made a tired smile. “Of course, thank you Korash.”

With that, she turned to leave. Her uniform was hardly regulation, and her hair was a complete mess, but right now that didn’t matter even to the normally strict and orderly Admiral. Right now, speed was of the essence, and everything else could be damned. It only took her a minute or so to find her way to the closest transporter room, though she had to wait for a minute more for a transporter operator to actually arrive as well. Personnel shortages had forced them to only have two of the station’s five transporter rooms manned in the off hours.

“Sorry, Admiral.” The ops ensign said as he hurried through the door. “It’s a long run.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Elisha shrugged. “Put me on the bridge of the Bellerophon. They should be expecting me.”
“Coordinates locked in.” The ensign looked up from the controls. “Energizing.”

It took less than the time between two heartbeats for the transporter room on Aquilae station to fade away and be replaced by the familiar surroundings of the Bellerophon’s command bridge. More than familiar, it was her own ship, or had been until her old friend had decided to pull her out of her chosen environment and put her behind a desk on a space station, something she had worked very hard to avoid until then.

“Admiral on the deck!” The deep voice of the ship’s avatar, a massive man that appeared to be in his thirties with a long dark pony tail and shoulders like an ox, sounded throughout the bridge. He looked very much like the paintings of his namesake.
“Thank you, Bellerophon. As you were, all of you. This isn’t a cordial visit or an inspection, this is business. Let’s treat it like that.”
“Ma’am.” Captain Clark rose from her seat and saluted. “The Bellerophon is ready to receive your orders.”
“At ease, Sophia.” Admiral Keyes turned to her former XO. “As I said, this isn’t an inspection.”
“Understood, ma’am.” Captain Clark barely seemed to relax at all.
“Do you have an uplink to Aquilae station?”
“Confirmed.” Bellerophon stated. “I am currently in contact with Athena.”
“Very well. Any response to Protocol Beta yet?”
“Yes, Admiral.” He paused for a second, allowing the full report of the Aquilae AI to be downloaded. “We have confirmations from all of the active BARCAP units, as well as from Gallant and Michael.”
“That’s all?”
“With respect, Admiral, most of the other ships are either tied up in operations or in mothballs.” Bellerophon paused again. “Lexington reports she is also available, but with a reduced crew.”
“How reduced?”
“According to Athena, about half of nominal.” Bellerophon frowned. “Normally I would not believe that actually mattered, but Blue Ghost has not had quite enough time to complete her integration yet.”

Normally the relatively short time it took for an AI to integrate into a ship’s systems and fully assume control of the computer core, two to three days at the most, wasn’t an issue. This time it was.

“I see.” A thin line formed on her forehead. “What’s your opinion, Bellerophon?”
“Hopefully, she will be ready when we arrive, Admiral.”
“That didn’t sound too positive, commander.” Keyes eyed the massive avatar.
“I know, Admiral.” He sighed. “She will have to be.”
“Worst case she’ll be as effective as she’s been before the new age.”
“I guess so, Admiral.” Bellerophon shrugged. “If nothing else, she can deactivate herself, though that is a risky maneuver by any measure. There is a chance the old operating system cannot be reactivated, as we have never actually tried it in anything but test conditions, with a fully integrated AI.”

She thought for a second, and then made her decision.

“I don’t like it, but I won’t risk people’s lives gambling with technology.” She shook her head. “Tell Lexington to stand down, she’ll have to guard the barn until we get back.”
“Understood.” Bellerophon seemed relieved. “She acknowledges your order.”
“Well then. Link up a comm channel with the rest of the ships.”

Keyes stepped in front of the large view screen.

“Admiral Keyes to all ships, I’m taking command of the fleet and transferring Fleet Control to the Bellerophon. We’ve monitored a hyperspace event that seems to be heading towards Checkpoint Bravo, and we’ll be moving to reinforce the position. It’s very important that you all realize what the cost of failure would be, and why it will not be an acceptable outcome.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. This was something she’d feared ever since the Darwin came back. Worse yet, she didn’t have the manpower to mount the kind of rescue operation she’d wanted, but she still had to do whatever she could. While possibly safer for the people under her command, at least in the short term, the cost of not responding would be even greater. Even so she wasn’t sure she’d be there in time. Hope, fear, and grim determination all played their parts in her mind and her reasoning.

“Form up on the Bellerophon. We’ll be moving as fast as the ships can handle. I don’t care if we burn out the nacelles, as long as we get there.” She made a grim face. “We have to get there, and quickly, or we may be too late to make a difference. Keyes out.”
“All ships report ready, Admiral.” Bellerophon stated in an even voice. “The fleet is standing by for your orders.”
“Tell Athena to keep trying to get a warning through the jamming.” She walked over to the captain’s ready room. “If you don’t mind, Sophia?”
“Not at all, ma’am.” She made a thin smile. “My ship is your ship.”
“Thank you.” Keyes made a gesture towards the front of the bridge. “Get us underway. Try to keep the formation in one piece, but you know my orders. Get us there as quickly as humanly possible.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Echoed the reply from both Bellerophon and Sophia.

Elisha turned and went into the ready room, the familiar view and smell of the room calming her somewhat. What a way to wake up, she thought as she went over to the replicator and got herself a cup of steaming coffee before sitting down at the console on the table. What a way to wake up.
“Computer, pull up the status of the ships in the fleet, and their tactical advantages. Also pull up the Darwin’s mission reports and sensor logs.”
“Stand by.”
“Of course.” She said to herself. “What else can I do?”

As they appeared on the console, she dove into the reports as she felt the familiar slight vibration of the inertial dampeners adjusting. They were on their way. The question that burned in her mind was still whether it was soon enough, and whether she’d be able to make a difference. There were too many unknowns, too many factors she couldn’t control. Still, she had to do something. Anything.


USS ENDEAVOUR, OBSERVATION LOUNGE
ORBIT ABOVE DRACONIS


Ambassador Fontaine looked out at the world beneath them. It wasn’t the largest planet he’d seen by any means; in fact, it was only slightly larger than Mars, and by those same measures much smaller than Earth. To him, however, it had more importance than he’d ever felt Earth ever had. It was his mission, his job, his life right now to do his best and to get this splinter colony to at least in spirit join with his own people.

He hadn’t lied; both people would gain from such an alliance. The people on Draconis would gain a significant boost in technology, allowing them to advance centuries’ worth of science in years or maybe even months. His people would gain a source of manpower, something they desperately needed.

Then there was his own simpler needs for seeing this reunification happen, his own wishes to see order turn out of chaos. Two people that were both part of the same heritage and the same history, even though they’d been separated by time and space, shouldn’t remain two people. He just hoped that his requests and proposals hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and that was something he still didn’t know. It had been more than two days since his appearance in front of the Phoenix council, and they still hadn’t reached a decision.

Not that he was all that surprised. In less than four hours, their entire existence had been thrown into disarray. Their history, past, present and future had shattered in their faces and they were still trying to put the pieces back together again, and to make things worse here he was, trying to make them put them in a new order, one that didn’t even closely resemble what it’d looked like before.

But still, while Fontaine did understand their reasons, he didn’t like to be kept hanging. Yes or no, not a hard response to make, but it was as they said. It’s not the destination that’s important, it’s the journey. A proverbial journey the Phoenix council was still undertaking. Plus, even if they did say no today, that decision could be changed later on.

He sighed. For good or bad, they were at least still talking. He almost turned to leave as he saw something reflect on the dark side of the closest moon, a bluish speck against the blackness. He watched in astonishment as it was joined by another, then another, and then a dozen more as the seconds passed by. Then as the cogs in his mind clicked into place and he realized what was happening, he quickly tapped his communicator.

“Fontaine to bridge.”
“This is Cook, what can I do for you, Ambassador?”
“Cook, put the ship in red alert and join me in the observation lounge. ASAP, Cook.”
“This is highly unusual, Ambassador.” Cook replied. “May I ask…”
“You’ll see when you get here, Cook, now do what I said and get your holographic behind up here!”

The link terminated and the Ambassador relaxed a little as he saw the alert indicator on the wall flash a deep red. Within seconds, the blue coated appearance of the ship’s avatar joined him.

“Now will you tell me why I just made the ship ready to fight a small war, Ambassador?”
“Certainly.” Ambassador Fontaine pointed to the area on the second moon. “See that?”

Cook didn’t even move, but in all truth, he didn’t really have to either. His true eyes were the ship’s sensors, not the holographic representations’ blue pupils.

“I do. Thank you, and please excuse me, Ambassador.” Cook said as he dematerialized again.
“Certainly.”

Fontaine made a grim smile and turned to leave as well. Apparently, having a brain the size of a city block didn’t make him all knowing after all.

He didn’t even have time to turn towards the door before the avatar’s voice rang from the ship’s intercom.
“Battle stations, battle stations, all hands report to battle stations. This is not a drill. Captain Halsey, please report to the battle bridge immediately. Battle stations.”

Fontaine hurried down the short corridor to the turbolift. There were a lot of places he wanted to be right now, but none of them included one of the least protected places on the star ship, especially not one that’s in a very easily targeted section of it, namely in the very front of the weapons pod.

He stood silent in the lift, rethinking what he was supposed to do now. He wasn’t part of the ship’s command crew, and less than useful in any practical part of ship operation. He couldn’t even tell one part of a spanner from another which made him useless in damage control. In essence, he was little more than dead weight.

“Please state destination.” The cold voice of the computer brought him back to reality.
“Computer, what’s the most protected area of the ship?”
“Main engineering.”
Yeah, right. A computer’s logic. Right next to an antimatter reactor.
“Let me rephrase.” Fontaine thought for a second. “What is the most protected area of the ship that serves no tactical or strategic importance?”
“Jeffries tube fourteen, junction twelve.”
“Then by all means, take me as close as possible to Jeffries tube fourteen, junction twelve.”


USS ENDEAVOUR, BATTLE BRIDGE


George Halsey came out of the turbolift and into the bridge still trying to catch his breath. He’d been down in sensor control helping a science team with a standard mineral survey of the planet as per a request of the Chancellor. He’d already been on his way up when the commander’s broadcast called him, forewarned by the red alert lights flashing to life.

“Report!”
“Captain, sensors report several ships exiting this ‘Hyperspace’ realm just behind the planet’s second moon.” Cook replied. “We were lucky. They jumped in where my sensors couldn’t see them, but mister Fontaine noticed the light of their vortexes reflect on the other moon just as they arrived.”
“How could that be?” Captain Halsey asked. “Aren’t your sensors among the best in the fleet?”
“They are.” Cook would have blushed if he could. “To my defense there was a moon blocking the view, and I cannot perform optical inspections of every inch of every planetoid, and I would have to in order to see what he did with his untrained eye. As you humans would say, I cannot see the forest because of all the trees.”

While Halsey could appreciate the AI’s attempt at explaining the difference between human optical and AI sensor vision, this was neither the time nor the place.

“Right. So, what are we up against?” Halsey looked at the view screen; the ships were still barely specks in space at this range, even with maximum magnification.
“I have confirmed at least fifty of the same kind of vessel that faced off against the Darwin, Captain.” Cook replied. “There are also more than a dozen of the larger variant ships that the Venture discovered on his reconnaissance mission, along with three even larger ships of as of yet unknown configuration. The largest ships are more than fourteen hundred yards long, or almost twice the length of a Sovereign and ten times their mass.”
“Dear god.” Halsey felt like he’d been hit by a sledgehammer. “Have you tried contacting them?”
“Yes, sir, I still am. All possible frequencies, both subspace and tachyon based.”
“Any response?”
“Not yet, Captain.” He looked the Captain straight in the eyes. “The hostile ships are blanketing all frequencies, sir. We are restricted to short range communications only. I am not even sure they’re getting our hails through all that interference.”
“Understood.” Halsey bit his lip. “Can we reach Sirius at all?”
“No, sir.” Cook shook his head.
“I see. Albion?”
“I am trying to get a link to each of the other three ships. There have been no reply as of yet, and at their last known position they would not be able to have seen the enemy yet.”
“Damn.” Halsey sat down in his chair, and looked at his XO. “Get the shield emitters and weapons charged. Let’s not get caught with our pants down.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Shield emitters fully charged.” Tactical responded. “All quantum torpedo launchers are armed and loaded, phasers on standby.”
“Good. Helm, prepare to break orbit on my command.” Halsey ordered. “Cook, anything from the rest of the fleet?”
“Negative, Captain.” Cook responded in a low voice. “They might have gotten my message but not be able to respond due to the jamming. I cannot make a positive determination at this time.”
“Understood, Commander.”

Ironically, this was exactly why they’d brought the extra Sovereigns along, just in case something unexpected happened. A few dozen of the flower ships counted as unexpected, though those larger ships made the situation much worse. Halsey cursed himself for asking the Admiral to withdraw the supporting starships closer to the system’s star; it had been a good idea at the time to make a less intimidating show of force, but damn was it inconvenient right now. As they say, hindsight is usually twenty by twenty.

Now he just hoped they’d either get the message or notice the situation evolving before something really bad happened. Halsey had no illusions; the Endeavour was more than a match for one or two of these ships, but against more than fifty? And that wasn’t even the final count but only what they could already see over the horizon of the moon.

“What’s the tactical situation, Cook?”
“Hostile ships are entering a fairly standard strike formation. Smaller ships moving in escort formation around the larger ones.” Cook looked curious. “Larger ships seem to be limited to a lower speed, as they seem to be moving at the equivalent of roughly one eight impulse power.”
“Time until they reach weapons range?” Halsey asked.
“Less than five minutes, Captain.”
“Great, just great.” Halsey thought for a moment. “Break orbit, ensign. Move us far enough away to get out of the gravity well, but keep us close enough to protect the planet.”
“Confirmed.” Helm replied. “Breaking orbit.”
“Still no reply from the hostiles, Cook?”
“Negative, Captain.”
“Fine.” Halsey took a deep breath. “Please designate them as enemy targets and take the phasers off standby mode. Heat up the emitters and stand ready for an alpha strike.”
“Yes sir.”

The lights dimmed for a second as power was diverted from most other systems toward the weapons. One of the main upgrades the Endeavour had received was the new weapons and shield system. It hadn’t received the new warp core yet though; ironic considering the ship had been scheduled for a core replacement months ago. That was before the war started though, and that had effectively put any refits that took active ships out of service for an extended amount of time on hold. The older core couldn’t power the new systems to their full potential, and it even required most of their auxiliary reactors just to get all of them online. This also meant that to get sufficient energy to deploy the external armor he had to shut down his warp drive, as well as perform a controlled overload of the warp core itself. A risky, but necessary, maneuver.

“Enemy ships passing the moon’s horizon, Captain. I have a final count. Eighty three of the light ships, fourteen medium and six heavies.”
“Let them know we care, Cook.”
“Yes, sir.”


UNKNOWN CRAFT


He looked at the small ship that stood in their way. It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough for the Confirmation. They had doubted that this people, which at all times they had observed them had never reached into space, would be the ones responsible for the Insolence, the willful trespassing into their home space.

Still, here was the proof they had known would be here, and trespassing was a crime that was punished with death. A harsh punishment maybe, but the Circle had to be protected, and they could not allow anyone to see, to learn, or to let the ancient enemy know.

The just punishment had been thwarted, how that had happened was still shrouded in mystery, but because of that, they were forced to make an example.

Now they were here to teach. To teach this unwelcome and unwanted race that there were limits to what they were allowed to know, and to what they were allowed to do. It brought him no joy and no sorrow. The fate of the younger races was not something that concerned them. It was necessary, and that was all that mattered. They were pawns in the ancient game, and were treated and used as such.

He was silent, as was his ship. Words were not necessary when communicating with his own kind. They were linked, forever intertwined with each other through the power of their minds. They all knew what they should do, what to expect. They had done this many times before, and would do it many more times in the future to come. After all, the Circle had no beginning, and no end.

This race surprised him, a sensation that was very rare for a being as old as him. This was even more compounded as he saw the ship change. Where before there had been a dark metal surface with light coming out of small slits in the hull, brighter metal plates seemed to materialize out of nowhere, completely covering most the ship and only leaving thin stripes on parts of the secondary hulls. A deep, menacing blue glow could be seen through the openings, a glow that seemed to increase in strength. His sensors noticed a huge power build up from inside the ship as well, more than he was expecting, and far more than any other ship of its size should be able to produce. Now he felt something else he hadn’t felt for centuries.

Apprehension.

An apprehension based in the small possibility that they had misjudged this race and their technology, and in the possibility that they had misjudged their own abilities. He tried to warn the others, but it was too late. Even their own ancient and wise race stopped listening when battle was ahead. It would not matter, he decided. After all, no one could stand against the wrath of the Vorlon.


USS ENDEAVOUR, BATTLE BRIDGE


“The enemy ships are still closing, Captain.” Cook said. “They will be entering weapons range in twenty seconds.”
“Warning shot.” Halsey said through his teeth.
“Aye, Captain.”

The large bulk of the Federation cruiser swiveled on its own axis as it brought its bow and dorsal surfaces to bear on the enemy force. The peaceful appearance of the starship was completely gone, with the armored hull giving off a grim look that suited the ship’s refit classification as a war cruiser. Three glowing blue orbs left the launchers situated in the front of the weapons pod, and spread slightly as they crossed the distance between the two sides in mere seconds.

They didn’t hit anything, they weren’t supposed to, but they made their point. There, but no further. The message was duly received, weighed, and finally blatantly ignored as the enemy fleet paused for but a second and then resumed their course towards the Endeavour.

“They ignored our warning shots, Captain.” Tactical called out. “Course and speed remain unchanged.”
“Fine.” Halsey gritted his teeth. “Prepare attack pattern gamma four. Let’s show them we mean business. Are we in range for an alpha strike?”
“Just now, sir.” Cook responded coolly. “On your command.”
“Course laid in!” Helm responded.
“Fire at will.” Halsey ordered. “Take us in.”
“Yes, sir!”

The Nebula class starship accelerated to almost a quarter of the speed of light within seconds, the weakened inertial dampeners straining to adjust for the G-forces that would otherwise crush the crew into a bloody pulp staining the rear walls. As the first of the enemy ships entered range, dozens of thick lances of golden red energy erupted from her hull striking at the medium sized enemy ship with total impunity.

While a single phaser beam may not have had much of an effect for the Icarus, Fleet Command had learned their lessons and learned them well. The phasers fired in groups, several beams targeting the same square inch of hull on the enemy ship. The effect was exactly what they had expected. Within mere moments the combined energy of the phaser beams had worked their way through the organic hull and through to the other side. The strike didn’t destroy the vessel, but it did do heavy damage.

The initial attack also managed to create a measure of surprise among the attackers, as they had not expected the lone ship to attack such a superior number. The following, more widely spread, suppression fire did little damage to the larger ships, but one of the smaller destroyers was hit head on. A number of the golden beams speared it right through the middle of its main weapons array, causing a massive overload that chain-reacted and shattered the entire front half of the ship in a spectacular explosion, leaving little more than smoldering pieces of yellowish debris in the darkness of space.

The retaliation was massive, albeit chaotic. Purple and green rays lunged through space and impacted the Federation cruiser, causing bright flashes of light across the silver armor as they impacted the advanced armor. Eyes were opened on both sides as the ship only took light damage from the massive counterstrike. The ship accelerated even more and started an evasive action in a successful attempt to throw off further targeting, allowing it several more combined hits on the already damaged enemy cruiser.

“Sir, I’m reading damage to the armor, but no breaches yet.” Tactical called out. “The armor is doing its job, but it won’t hold out forever!”
“Roger!” Halsey frowned. ”Quantum torpedoes, full spread! Aft and port launchers!”
“Aye sir, torpedoes ready!”
“Fire!”

Half a dozen of the lethal blue orbs shot through space, half of them from the rear of the main hull, the other half from the port launchers on the raised weapons pod. They raced through space at close to the speed of light, impacting and penetrating the hulls of their targets with massive kinetic force before their internal containment fields failed, causing the zero-point energy inside to be exposed to unprotected matter. This released what is known as a Casimir reaction, a reaction that disturbs the strong quantum force, the force that holds subatomic particles together at the quantum level.

Not that the physical reaction involved was something the enemy ships cared much about when they were struck by the warheads. In a reaction that only took fractions of microseconds, three of the smaller destroyers were ripped to shreds as the atoms that made up their hulls disintegrated, the resulting radiation and thermal energy of numerous uncontrolled nuclear fission and fusion reactions added to the explosive effect of the weapon itself. The other three torpedoes also found their mark, creating a series of deep craters in the hull of one of the massive dreadnoughts, but not managing to cripple it.

“Report!”
“All torpedoes hit, sir.” Tactical responded. “Three destroyers are down and we did medium damage to one of their capital ships. I think.”
“You think?!” Halsey roared.
“Yes sir, scans are inconclusive. We might have hit something critical, but we might just as well have hit an empty cargo bay. We don’t know, sensors can’t make heads or tails of their structure.”
“Great.” Halsey gripped his armrests as the ship took a sharp turn at high enough speeds that the inertial dampeners couldn’t quite take all the force away from. “Helm, lay in a course to put our starboard broadside and dorsal guns up against one of the medium ships.”
“Confirmed, sir, course entered.”
“Tactical?”
“Aye, sir. Broadside, ready on your command.”

The bridge shook and the lights flickered as the Endeavour took several direct hits to its main hull. The ventral and port external armor was getting beaten down pretty fast now, several of the hits now impacting the ablative armor of the hull itself, though not doing too much structural damage. At least, not yet.

The starship turned and headed almost directly for one of the cruisers, as the tactical system had designated the medium sized vessels, rolling some twenty five degrees on its axis to put the target within the firing arcs of the dorsal phaser arrays. It was a risky maneuver, as while being the angle that allowed the Nebula to put out the maximum amount of firepower it was also the very same angle that presented the largest target to the enemy.


UNKNOWN CRAFT


The being would have laughed had his race been physically able to do so. The maneuver his enemy had attempted was incredibly unwise, as the angle and direction in which the ship approached would take it almost directly in front of the massive missile launchers that his ship carried. He mentally ordered the appropriate action to be taken.

He stopped dead in his motion as he noticed that the ship swiveled ninety degrees, letting inertia continue to carry it in. He was suddenly overwhelmed by reports of yet more massive power readings, and like the first time he had seen these reports he failed to understand their meaning before it was too late. The last thing he saw was several ports open in the silvery armor along the enemy ship’s disc-shaped hull, and large golden balls of energy traveling the few hundred miles between the ships in less time than a normal being would even notice. Less than a heartbeat later, his command was little more than a hollowed out and burning shell drifting in space, the biological material still glowing as it continued to be consumed by the remaining nadion particles.


USS ENDEAVOUR, BATTLE BRIDGE


“Direct hits, reading massive damage. The hostile ship is crippled, though not destroyed.” Cook reported. “It is dead in space.”
Most of the officers cheered, that was almost as good as a confirmed kill.
“Don’t jump to any conclusions yet people, there’s a lot more where that came from.” The XO used his cool voice to bring the bridge crew back to focus. “Status of the PPC’s?”
“Recharging, Commander.” Tactical said. “One minute and counting.”
“Helm, bring us about.” Halsey ordered. “Try to keep the ventral armor away from the main action.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Tactical, torpedoes.” Halsey motioned towards the viewscreen. “Use them wisely.”
“Yes, sir. Targeting enemy destroyers, targets locked.”
“Fire!”

Yet another volley of the blue orbs exited the vessel, this time far more of them than before. Not all of them found their marks however as smaller purple beams shot out of the enemy ships in a desperate attempt at destroying the fast moving warheads before they had a chance to impact them. Most of them still exploded, but as they did so outside their targets, the resulting damage was little more than a slightly charred paintjob. A precious few managed to get through the point defense fire and find their marks, leaving another couple of destroyers as little more than smoking wreckage.

So far, the battle was had been one of maneuver. The saving grace of the Endeavour had been her superior maneuverability, but even so, the opposition still outnumbered and outgunned her several times over. Small gashes were forming in the areas where the armor was weakened, or in some cases had failed completely.

“Captain!” Tactical called out over the noise of the bridge. “We’re being outflanked, two of the dreadnoughts are heading for the planet!”
“Damn it, intercept course!” Halsey yelled.

The ship groaned as it was pulled through another high speed turn, then it shook, a violent vibration that threw those standing to the floor and causing the ship to list slightly as it changed course.

“Report!” Halsey groaned as he fought to regain his feet.
“Captain, I am reading massive damage to the port nacelle.” Cook replied. He’d been the only one to remain standing, mostly as he didn’t suffer from inertia. “I have no choice but to cut power to the entire pylon, there is warp plasma leaking into the access shafts and plasma fires in the nacelle control center.”
“What happened?” Halsey screamed. “Explain!”
“Captain, it would seem that one of the enemy ships managed to score a direct hit on the port nacelle.” Cook said less calmly than normal. “The shot seems to have passed right between the nacelle’s ventral and dorsal armor generators, straight through the drive coil.”
“How the hell did that happen?” Halsey demanded to know.
“Bad luck?” Cook tried. “It is not a critical system for battle operations, but it will restrict me to three-quarters impulse due to the drag. I have already shut off the plasma feed and made the necessary adjustments to the warp core. The nacelle mounted phasers are out of operation, as are the shield emitters and armor generators throughout the length of the pylon. It will not survive a direct hit, Captain.”
“Well then. What about those dreadnoughts?”
“Coming into range now, Captain.” Tactical responded. “They’re moving into the gravity well, oh no! They’re initiating planetary bombardment, Captain!”
“Stop them, any way we can, is that clear?!”
“Yes sir! PPC arrays report ready, helm, put us between the two ships, maybe, just maybe we can pull this off!”

The space between the two dreadnoughts wasn’t much wider than the saucer section of the Endeavour. Still, it managed to slide through the narrow gap and the entire ship shuddered as she fired her main weapons in both directions at once, a maneuver worthy of the old ships of the line from the original Endeavour’s era, hoping to at least draw the two ship’s attention away from the defenseless planet.

The massive bolts of energy struck deep into the dreadnoughts, causing them to cease their fire, but the return fire was just as devastating. The massive green beams that had targeted the planet were turned on the new assailant, smashing straight through the already severely weakened port armor and creating deep gashes in hull, almost severing the sensor and weapons pod from the rest of the ship. The starboard armor had been in better condition coming into position, but while they held off most of the bombardment, they too failed and let the enemy score several direct hits.

“Damage report!” Halsey had been thrown out of his chair, and was struggling to get back in it.
“Massive damage to the port and starboard armor, hull integrity is compromised on both sides and I am reading hull breaches on several decks, emergency force fields are in place.” Cook looked physically hurt. “Main power is fluctuating, auxiliary power stable, and I have lost all contact with the weapons pod. What remained of the external armor is also failing. Long and short range sensors are both down, I am basically blind.”
“Engines?”
“Warp engines are inoperable, impulse drives operating at twenty five percent only.”
“Helm, get us clear!” Halsey said. “We’re no good to anyone if we stay in range of those things!”
“Aye sir, new course laid in.”

The wounded shape that was the Endeavour limped away from the two dreadnoughts, which had problems of their own. The damage from the pulse phaser cannons was massive; even though the ships were not crippled per se, they had problems keeping their orbit stable. One of them suffered a complete engine failure and started to fall into the atmosphere below, its crew doomed to endure the long descent in a burning ship.

“Captain, we have company!” Operations stated. “Three cruisers and their escorts are on our six.”
“I thought sensors were down?” Halsey breathed.
“They are.” Ops replied. “But visual still works.”
“Cook?” Halsey asked. “Anything we can do to discourage their pursuit?”
“Negative, Captain.” Cook shook his head. “Most of my rear weapons are offline. Main ventral phasers are operative, as are the frontal batteries, but port, rear, starboard and dorsal arrays are inoperative. Pulse phaser cannons are offline, several batteries outright destroyed.”
“Torpedoes?” Halsey didn’t like the idea of being unable to defend himself and his ship.
Cook shook his head again. “We only have fifteen torpedoes left, as most of the extended supply is located in the weapons pod and is inaccessible at present. Even so, only the forward launchers are operative.”
“Damn it. Damn it to hell!” Halsey roared. “Distance to the enemy?”
“Twenty five light seconds, Captain.” Tactical reported. “They’ll be in range in less than two minutes.”

Halsey didn’t know what to do. His ship had faced off with a superior enemy, crippled or destroyed many times its own tonnage worth in enemies, a good amount by any measure, but now it seemed it was all going to be over in a matter of minutes.

“Hold on tight.” Cook said with his cool voice. “I am detecting metallic objects less than a light second ahead on our exact course, I am taking emergency evasive action.”

[Zcenicx]

Chapter 14


USS ENDEAVOUR
SPACE ABOVE DRACONIS


There was no way that the already damaged and barely operational inertial dampeners would be able to soften the emergency maneuver that Cook forced the ship into. Even at only a quarter impulse power they were still traveling at almost forty thousand miles per second, and the acceleration force that was required to break that inertial direction was massive enough to throw people into the walls and floors of the starship.

The sudden course correction and impulse shift caused the ship to lose whatever control it still retained, putting it on a slow three-axis roll as it continued on its altered course due more to its inertia than anything else. It almost looked like it was tumbling through space, though the people on board would hardly appreciate the likeness, as with artificial gravity failing to compensate fully they were thrown around inside, hitting walls, floors and even the roofs.

“Report!” Halsey shouted, pain clearly showing in his voice and clasping his right side.
“We avoided the obstructions.” Cook answered with some static, his holographic image not entirely stable anymore. “Main power is offline, auxiliary power is offline, and emergency power is unstable. We’re drifting in space and have no navigational control, Captain.”
“Damn it!” Halsey cursed. “What were those things? Asteroids?”
“Negative, I would have seen an asteroid much sooner.” Cook explained. “Sensors are too damaged to give any kind of answer.”
“Visual on the enemy!” Halsey sighed. “Let us see our death in the eyes like real men.”
“Aye sir, on screen.” Tactical answered.

The view was ominous to say the least. Three of the cruiser-sized squid-like ships were closing on their position fast, each with an escort of four of the smaller flower-shaped ships. Halsey found himself holding his breath, anticipating the fate he knew was in store for him and his crew. It wasn’t like he feared death, after all, all living beings died sooner or later. It was just a question of when and how, and while he was sure he’d leave this existence with all honors, it felt like it was just too early, that he still had things he could contribute to the world.

Suddenly, it all changed. He noticed a scratching sound on the intercom almost as quickly as Cook did. The two men, one organic and one artificial, shared a quick glance of hope as their minds both drew the best possible conclusion. Maybe, just maybe fate would be on their side for a change.

“Now!” The voice on the intercom roared. ”Open fire!”

In an instant the three shadows, previously invisible on the monitor to all but Cook’s artificial eyes, were lit up and bathed in a yellow glow. The sight was wondrous and captivating, as if sent by the almighty himself as a gift of life to the doomed crew. Halsey allowed himself to relax. They had noticed, and now they were here. The cavalry had arrived to save the day.

The three Sovereigns were lined up almost perfectly stem to stern, forming an invisible line in space, and they all fired at the same time. Showers of the yellow balls and spears of cohesive energy left every strip and cannon of the ships and traveled the distance between them and the incoming ships in mere seconds, leaving a wide white line on Halsey’s retina. The effect was catastrophic, many of the smaller ships being pierced through their entire length while the larger ships were stopped dead in their tracks, massive holes visible in their thick armor. The onslaught didn’t stop, or even pause, and for several more seconds space between the Federation starships and the battered enemy was filled with phaser bolts and torpedoes racing towards their targets, as unforgiving and merciless as the hands of the reaper himself.

“God damn that’s a sight to see.” Halsey said with his first smile since, it felt, forever. “Can you patch me through to the Albion, Cook?”
“I can.” Cook responded with some static, his matrix still unstable. “Stand by, all communications channels are being used at the moment.”

Of course they were, Halsey thought. He kept watching as the three ships broke formation and fan out in unison to take on one of the cruisers each, and as they’d already lost the measure of surprise their running lights lit up, showing the three Federation battleships in all their glory. Moments later, he could see the telltale cold blue and silver flashes that indicated the Sovereigns were deploying their ablative armor. He almost shook as the adrenaline of the moment started to wear off.

A cold and gutsy move, Halsey thought as he realized why and how the three ships had ended up here of all places. They’d been in orbit close to the star the last he’d heard, and he had instantly realized what they’d done as soon as he had realized what they were. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, running silent out of the sun, letting the solar radiation hide whatever radiation or energy signature you were emitting. In other words, one hell of an ambush, and it had worked. Halsey didn’t even mind being used as bait, though he’d probably feel different if they’d shown up a minute later.

The initial surprise had been enough to decide the outcome of this skirmish, as most of the smaller escorts had been crippled or outright destroyed in the first volley, and all three main vessels had been severely damaged within seconds of the call to fire. As he continued to watch, the starboard ship was now accelerating just a few hundred yards below one of the enemy ships, the only one remaining operational, and made a roll around its own axis bringing its ventral weapon arrays to bear on the enemies belly.

The effect was astounding, the entirety of the space between the ships shone with a golden glow as the Sovereign brought its massive point defense grid into action as well as its main weapons. It took a second, Halsey just barely noticed it, but then the first and second ray of cohesive charged particles exited through the spine of the enemy squid ship. More and more of the phaser rays joined the first, and by the time they stopped, there was chasm running straight through and half the length of the enemy cruiser. He made a grim face as his opponent faced the same fate he and his crew had been expecting only moments earlier.

“Captain, I have Admiral West for you.” Cook crackled. “I suggest you keep it short, emergency power could fail any minute.”
“Thank you, Cook.” Halsey said. “I’ll try.”

The comm system crackled a little as he spoke up.

“Admiral, you sure are a sight for sore eyes!”
“Thanks.” West’s voice was barely audible through the interference. “Sorry we couldn’t get here faster.”
“We’re still alive, Admiral. At least, most of us are.” Halsey hadn’t dared ask for a casualty report yet. “That’s all that matters.”
“What’s your condition, Halsey?” West asked.
“Just as banged up as we look, Admiral.” Halsey reported. “We’re dead in space, and power’s failing.”
“I see.” West responded. “I’m taking the Albion and Independence towards the planet, but I’m leaving the Discovery behind to cover you and our rear.”
“Sir, you shouldn’t…” Halsey tried.
“That’s for me to decide. I won’t abandon you quite yet.” West’s voice was stern enough. “Try to get enough power back to withdraw from the battlefield, but until then you’re stuck with the babysitter.”
“But…”
“That’s an order, Captain. West out.”

Halsey looked at Cook in despair. He didn’t want to tie up a Sovereign just to protect him. The only thing that mattered was to keep these maniacal aliens and their ships away from Draconis and the millions of people that were stuck on the planet with no means to protect themselves. Yet, he was hardly in a position to argue with the Admiral, seeing as his ship wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Captain, I am sorry, but I have to follow orders.” Cook stated coolly. “I will be in main engineering if you need me.”

Halsey sighed as the flickering hologram folded in on itself and dissipated. He looked at the viewscreen again. Even with the massive magnification, he could barely see the two ships that were bound for the planet anymore, each second that went by bringing those almost a hundred and fifty thousand miles away from him and his ship. The remaining ship just maneuvered a little, taking up position only a few thousand kilometers away.

“Discovery to Endeavour.” The communications system crackled with the Hispanic voice of the Discovery’s Spaniard Captain. “Respond please.”
“Discovery, this is Endeavour actual.” Halsey responded. “Go ahead.”
“Hold on to your seats, Halsey.” The familiar voice said. “We’ll try to stabilize you with our tractor beams.”
“Sure.” It was all Halsey could say. “Thanks, Discovery.”
“Anytime.”

Halsey felt a small shift as the Sovereign’s fore, aft and port tractor beams locked on to his ship, putting just enough drag on the different parts of the ship to slow down its tumbling motions and halt the ships movement. Even though the motion was as careful as possible, the weakened hull of the Nebula class ship groaned as it put stress on already weakened seams and welds. Halsey attributed it to luck rather than anything else that nothing broke loose. Looking at the damage reports that had finally started to filter in it seemed that all that held his proud ship together was just that. Hope, faith, and a good portion of luck.


USS ALBION
ON COURSE FOR DRACONIS III


“Admiral.” Victoria’s even voice called out. “We are approaching the planet. No ships seem to be in orbit at the moment, but several are moving towards the planet.”
“Confirmed, take up a defensive position five light seconds from the outer atmosphere.” West replied.
“Yes, sir” Helm answered.

The bridge was a busy place and no one noticed as the turbolift doors opened and closed again, or the figure of Professor Jonah Stevenson stepping on to the bridge. He was only half dressed, as he was one of the few people who hadn’t been alerted to the situation, and showed tell-tale signs of just having woken up a few minutes ago.

“Captain.” Stevenson asked. “I demand to know what’s going on.”
Both the Admiral and Captain West spun around in surprise.
“Professor, you can’t be here right now!” The Captain scowled. “We’re in the middle of a battle!”
“Battle?!” Jonah whispered, true terror in his voice. “But, we’re still in my home system, right? What‘s happening? What’s going on?”
“We will explain later, Professor.” The Admiral replied. “Right now you need to get to a safe location.”
“But, please, Admiral, tell me what’s going on!” Jonah pleaded.

Suddenly his entire body froze like struck by lightning as he caught a glimpse of the enemy on the tactical display. Both brothers West noticed his expression and watched closely as the already pale face and body started to shake as it went several shades brighter, almost like the man was fighting a losing battle against true terror.

“That’s… this is… it’s impossible… they can’t be!” Jonah stammered incoherently. “God. Please god. Don’t let them be… Sweet, merciful god…”
“Someone get that man off the command bridge!” Captain West yelled, and two of the security guards finally responded, taking the now non-responsive scientist by the elbows and dragging him back into the turbolift.
“I so want to hear the story behind that reaction after this. If we survive, that is.” Admiral West said to the roof, and then looked at his AI. “Can you get a direct link to Hancock?”
“I can.” Victoria replied. “Though at this limited range, I can do even better.”
“Then do so, Vicky.” West scowled.
“Yes, sir.” Victoria took a step back and to the side as if making room.

A moment later, the space she’d just left was filled with a slightly transparent appearance of Hancock, the Independence’s avatar.

“Admiral.” Hancock said with a short salute. “Victoria.” He kissed her hand like a true gentleman of his namesake’s vintage, his slight transparency seemingly not r