"Herecy"

Qelereth'Meshketh C'ruv's, Supreme Commander, IHV Light of Vindication
Alklaatu Verati'ss, Commander, IHV Shield of Resolution

IHV LIGHT OF VINDICATION: MATRON'S CHAMBER

"Commander - I find you lack of faith... disturbing."

The Supreme Commander of the Hydran WarFleet looked down upon the bowed figure of Alklaatu Verati'ss, one of her most capable war leaders. Verati'ss' accomplishments against the Lyrans spoke of a special combination of daring and maturity few Hydran males showed before their seventies. As the Cleansing progressed, the Shield of Resolution was always at the WarFleet's vanguard, bearing the brunt of the Romulan and Federation defenses while skillfully using her Fusion Cannons and Hellbores to prepare the enemy for the arrival of the StarGod.

Yet, amongst the Faithful there were whispers of Verati'ss, na-Count of the Adcherait Colony and Master of the Shield of Resolution.

Justifiably proud of his ship and crew, the commander was often the last to bow in thanks to his household gods. In following the lead of the Ulazhi, Verati'ss accepted the wisdom of their proposals - but not blindly. He had the annoying habit of questioning *everything*, and *everybody*... even those unaccustomed to providing answers.

Even now, as a new dawn rose for the Hydran people, Alklaatu Verati'ss stands before the Matron... with questions and doubt.

"Semantics, Matron", Verati'ss chittered confidently. "Consider it not a lack of faith, but rather a concern over our enemies development... and a belief that we have underestimated them."

Qelereth'Meshketh C'ruv's's three eyestalks glared at the Commander.

"Underestimate? Are you insane Verati'ss? They have been driven out of our new territories - Ch'Rihan is ours! Our allies are enroute to press our advantage with us as we speak. All this... and you speak of underestimating the enemy?"

Despite the Matron's incredulous wrath, Verati'ss stood firm in his conviction. "The statistics support my opinion, Matron. Our fighter supremacy was maintained through numbers only - the new version of the Federation "Rogue" fightercraft has bet our challenge admirably.

Further - their fighter wings attack and defend with considerably more tactical cohesion than our own. Their pilots don't fight for personal glories or the honor of their clans."

"Are they here, Commander?"

"No, but..."

"Then the observation is irrelevant" the Matron concluded. "We will discipline the fighter pilots and increase their exposure to the Ulazhi writings guaranteeing our victory. I agree that our pilots need to be more focused, Commander Verati'ss - I simply believe that we have different opinions as to the object of that focus."

"Matron-leader, I'm not certain I know what you mean", Verati'ss lied as smoothly as he could. ~This is different. She's never been so...

religions before.~

Matron Qelereth'Meshketh paused before answering, weighing the Commander's accomplishments against his persistent lack of piety. "I think you do, Verati'ss. I think you know exactly of which I speak."

A twitch of her leftmost eyestalk quickly brought an altern bearing a datapod. "Your lack of faith is well documented - even by the crew of the Shield of Resolution. While you accept the acts of the StarGod, you almost never offer praise for the Deliverence it has given and Cleansing it now inspires."

~My own crew!~ Names and possibilities raced through Alklaatu Verati'ss mind. ~So soon! I knew there was rumblings of discontent, but this...~ "I would know the names of my accusers, Matron! As Master of the Shield of Resolution, it is my right!"

Two of Qelereth'Meshketh's eyestalks reviewed the names as the third glared at the Commander. "The names are many Verati'ss, and I command here... I do not obey the commands of others. It's time you remembered your place and who you are." Gracelessly, she rose from her throne and descended the dias. As she did so, six well-armed troopers entered the chamber and surrounded the surprised Commander.

"Matron... you can't be serious!"

"Commander, I assure you... sending you to the Inquisition was not a jovial decision", Qelereth replied quietly as she passed the prisoner.

"Perhaps they will be able to assist you in fully understanding the truly amazing events that are unfolding in our times. It's...

important you appreciate the gifts the StarGod has provided, Verati'ss. It's important you truly believe."

"But the Shield of Resolution..."

"Will be ably commanded by Tklenat J'oolak'k, her Wing Commander", the Matron said as she left the chamber. "After all, while faith is it's own reward na-Count, sometimes the *correct* piety should be given a bounty of its own." A cold gleam shone from the lone eye looking back at a stunned Alklaatu Verati'ss.

"Perhaps the Inquisition will show you the wisdom of that as well."

"Death Company"

Featuring:

Lieutenant Sanguinus Ephrial Templar
101st Battallion Marine Chaplain
AND
The surviving fragments of the Last Chancers and a little known merc unit known as the "Black Dragoons."

================

Resistance Undercity

================

Deviants, heretics, outlaws, murders, thieves: the scum of the Federation. Criminals all. Banded together and formed into suicide squads, these were the "heart and soul" of the unit known at the "Black Dragoons," men and women offered a life of constant warfare as opposed to the meager existance of a penal colony. They understood that they would not be hailed as heroes, and many of them didn't care:

the chance to deal death unfettered and unleashed was more than payment enough.

Much like SF Intelligence, these were people not often heard about, and for good reason. As a mercenary organization, this was one of the few the Federation employed: they performed the dirty jobs best kept out of public view, and should things go wrong a perfect scapegoat was already available to take the blame away from the government.

A unit of them, company sized, had been attached to the Last Chancers at the last minute as one of those "right place right time"

situations, with the expectation that they would not survive the up and coming hostilities should they actually occur. When the fighting had begun, the Black Dragoons company had been right at the front, and the ferocity of their fighting had given pause to even the most unrully of the true Last Chancers. And yet it hadn't been enough.

They had actually suceeded in spurring on their fellow federation citizens, halting the hydran advance for precious moments before being overrun.

And now, all that was left of the Last Chancers was little more than a platoon sized element: most of those were Black Dragoons. Still, in the short time they had been together, these unrully individuals had formed a bond unlike any other, and with but one outsider. Battle Chaplain Templar, of the Miranda's 101st Battalion. He had sparked something within each of them as he ministered to their spiritual needs. Templar did not stop to ponder precicely what it was that they were so taken with, but it had manifested in a willingness to fight under his care like none other, not even previously, during the bloodiest moments of the initial assault. He had led them on at least a dozen different operations in the past week serving as screening forces. With each operation they became more in tune with each other and with him, operating with a selflessness uncharacteristic in even the most giving and unwavering of individuals.

And now, he stood before them once again. Not as their leader, but as a warrior, an equal. "Brothers and Sisters," he began. "Once again we gather on the eve of battle and bow our heads for the Fallen.

Those who have come and died before us have paved the path to our future with their lives. This is a blessing and a gift to covet, we shall not squander it meaninglesly. But tonight is a night diferent than before."

He gestured to a set of crates behind him, in which could be found sets of marine armor. He had selected each item himself from amongst that with the dead no longer required use of, and save for certain details they were completly black. The shoulders were scored with a large red X, and red drops of blood had been painted over the heart on each chest plate, one under each of the power points of the combadges.

"Tonight, you are no longer Black Dragoons, nor Last Chancers. We leave behind such names as these units are no longer in existance.

Tonight you shed your old lives and don the armor of a new path: the path of the Death Company."

Half an hour later the newly christened Death Company stood before Templar resplendent in their new, if well used, battle armor. 'They are now complete,' Templar mused as he smiled and held out his arms.

"Let us kneel, Brothers and Sisters," he said as he tood a knee.

"Rise with me, as battle brothers and battle sisters! Anoint your weapons with the tears of the dead, and sleep tonight upon the beds of angels! Tomorow we go out to wage war again. Tomorow we fight the Hydran enemy and bring Death upon their door!"

"HUZZAH!" Cried one, a smallish woman who was no less deadly than her larger bretheren as she took to her feet. "HUZZAH!" She cried again, lifting a fist in the air. Again and again the shout was raised, untill the entire platoon, some 32 Death Company troopers, veterans all, were standing and shouting it, fists pumping the air with each telling. "HUZZAH! HUZZAH! HUZZAH! .... "

"For All Our Sons and Daughters" Part Two

Featuring, from the IKS T'Kengra;

Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe - Engineering Assistant IKS T'Kengra

And from the USS Galaxy;

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Assistant Chief of Engineering USS Galaxy
2nd Lieutenant Steven Jonas, CO - 2nd Platoon, SFMC, USS Galaxy
Ensign Keldan - Operations Officer, USS Galaxy
Michael McDowell - Civilian Engineering Specialist

(Set three days after the Romulan and Federation Fleet withdrawal from the 'Fight for Romulus')

***IKS T'Kengra, crew quarters***

Dhanishta cast a worried eye towards her sisters curt reply yet nodded towards Keldan, "We were looking over the ideas we went through yesterday, there are two that stand out as the best course of action. Kel suggests that we break up into two teams, and I have to agree with him. We can do more damage that way." For a second she debated if that was such a good idea as the words passed from her lips. She really didn't want to break

up the group, she didn't want to leave Michael or her sister, or Keldan, or for that matter the only guy who was qualified to shoot a rifle!

Keldan picked up several pads in succession and began dispersing them to the rest of the team. He punched up the data for the Annihilus group of ships so everyone could see what he was about to talk about.

"This battle group looks to be the weak link in the Hydrans' chain, if the sensor data we received from the Klingons is accurate. The group lost two of its support ships and the Annihilus itself suffered critical damage to most of its systems during the attack. Their defensive systems are offline and sensors and communications have been intermittent due to radiation saturation from a destroyed impulse pylon. The Klingons should be able to beam us in at any number of points on board the Annihilus or one of its support vessels without them being able to detect us. Most of its personnel have been moved off ship pending repairs."

"The other ship to look at is the Hammer of Absolution. It went almost totally undamaged during the fighting. It also has only a skeleton crew aboard at the moment, and is providing backup support to the Annihilus. Normally it serves as missile boat, however, and it should have a good stock of Hellbores left on board."

"The key to getting on board one or both these ships will be the timing. Our window of opportunity will start in just over an hour, when the nearest Hydran system patrol moves out of range. The window will close when they have finished reparations on the impulse pylon. Judging by the decrease in radiation levels, it should be no more than a couple hours that their sensors and communications will be back online."

"As far as teams go, we can all go together in one team, or split up. But we've isolated three main objectives that should be feasible."

"The first is to gather information on the Hellbore missiles and, if possible, commandeer one. While you were all sleeping last night, I was down in the cargo bay rummaging through piles of Klingon scrap and salvage. One of the things I managed to put together is this small 'detector'." He flipped a small coin-like disc in Dhanishta's direction, "Both Jonas and I were directly exposed to the Hellbore's radiation on board the Galaxy. With Mortan's assistance, I was able to isolate that radiation signature in our tissue and used it as the basis for this thing. Unfortunately, it won't tell you much. You'll have to be fairly close for it to work, if it works at all. But at least there's a chance it will help you find a Hellbore energy signature."

"Thanks" Dhani replied catching the device and looking it over as he continued talking. Already she was formulating a plan in her mind of who was going on which assignment, it was clear which one Keldan thought she would take!

"The second goal will be to cause as much damage as we possibly can to the Annihilus' internal systems. I've included a list of primary, secondary, and tertiary targets to look over. Of course, what gets taken out will likely be a result of what we can find once we get there."

"The third objective, which I'm going to take on myself, is to try to infiltrate the Hydran's information system. I still have my tricorder, although it was badly damaged. I've managed to fix it using the aforementioned Klingon junk. If the Annihilus has suffered critical computer systems failure, as I believe it has, it should be easier for me to get past their security and get at whatever information I can find. And wreak as much havoc along the way as I can."

Dhanishta smiled her agreement. "Well you have done your homework." she said, a little embarrassed that she spent more of the night on personal endeavors rather than preparation.

"What about shields? Or do you see these as being one way trips?" Steven asked. He wasn't afraid of death, though he always preferred to stay as far from it as possible.

Dhanishta shook her head, "We won't be able to beam out at all." she replied looking up from the padd. "Once the Klingons drop us off we are on our own. By splitting into two teams we have more chance of success and survival. Once the Hydran clock on to what we are doing we won't have much time. The only means of escape once detected will be the escape pods on the ship, or if you can get to them and figure out how to use them, then the transporters. However, from what I hear they are using transporter scramblers, so that option is only viable if they are knocked off line. Perhaps we should make that an objective too?" she suggested looking at Keldan.

Keldan smiled, "The defensive screens onboard the Annihilus are not operational, but those on the Hammer of Absolution and the other support vessels most likely are. As Dhanishta said, there will be no coming back to the T'Kengra, so in that regard it is a one-way trip. Use of their transporters would instantly alert them to our presence and should only be used as a last resort. That being said, I will be spending my time trying to isolate various ship's systems, including the transporters, to see what we can get to work to our advantage."

Dhanishta continued, "I have transferred some of the key information Qel supplied us with onto data padds." she paused and retreated to the corner of the room to gather up her own little project. "The padds contain the basics of the Hydran physiology, I thought that might be useful, seeing as we are in a kill or be killed situation, knowing where to strike will aid our chances of survival." She passed round a padd to each member of the group.

"You will also find details on the Hydran language. The Klingons did quite a good job on this, I have to say, yet obviously it's lacking quite a bit. I don't know how good everyone's Hydran is, mine is…. nonexistent. So this will at least give us an idea of what we are dealing with when we get there."

Keldan waited a few moments to see if anyone had any other comments before proceeding. "As far as the end of this little venture, I've indicated the suspected locations of their main shuttlebays and escape pods. The Annihilus is at the L4 point, so it will be quite a bumpy trip to Romulus. Fortunately, the majority of the Hydran fleet is near Remus, so you should only have to worry about patrols. Try to target the northern continent on ch'Rihan, some distance from the capital." Keldan looked at Michael, "If

we can make it into the capital, we can try finding some friends Michael and I made on our last trip there."

Dhanishta frowned slightly, she hadn't heard about that little trip. She filed the information away to ask him at a later date; that was if there would be a later!

"Has anyone ever covertly boarded an alien vessel before?" Steven asked, as he tried to shake of the remnants of the headache he had had all morning.

"I've infiltrated an alien vessel, though it wasn't exactly 'covertly,'" Keldan stated flatly. "During the Dominion war I was part of a Security detail that boarded a Jem'Hadar warship. We weren't able to take over the vessel, but we did manage to cripple it before we were forced to retreat."

Dhanishta pulled a face of discontent at the question, "Not recently." she replied, "Not ever really." she added trying to hide how she felt about it all. She wouldn't deny that it was a good idea, but she knew that she was an underdog so to speak and that no one on the Galaxy would let her lead such a mission, ever. These sorts of things were best left in the hands of the professionals and the question just highlighted the fact that she was a novice and really didn't have a clue what she was doing. Although she would argue otherwise, so she wasn't an intelligence agent, or a marine, just a lowly engineer, but she had taken the command course at the academy, she had studied battle plans, inelegance briefings and made the decisions, yes it was all simulations, but she knew she could do this. She wasn't about to let her training go to waste, let the Hydrans get away with what they had done to Romulus, and it wasn't even about the Romulans any more, at least not to Dhani. It was about saving the rest of the universe from hostile take over. It was about preserving justice, restoring the balance and hopefully peace.

"So, who's going where?" the half-breed marine asked.

Dhani looked round the room, this was one of those command situations she had trained for; she smiled at the realization. "Keldan will head up team bravo. Your objectives are to infiltrate and sabotage the Annihilus. Secondary objectives that you have devised are fine with me. I want that ship taken out, it must not be operative, and preferably destroyed by the time the Fleet returns. You have Kala and Michael at your disposal."

"Jonas and I will take the Hammer of Absolution and commandeer a Hellbore, we will inflict as much damage as possible before bailing out. Our secondary objective will be to gather any tactical information we can regarding the Starbeast and relay whatever we can to Starfleet. We can't win this war ourselves but the more damage we can do the better."

Keldan waited for any final comments. He looked at the chronometer readout on the padd and then the rest of the group. "It's currently 7:10 hours. I suggest we make whatever final preparations we need and meet back in the main transporter room at 8:00 for beam out."

Kala nodded, the flood of information over the last twenty minutes had frankly overwhelmed her. She was ready for a nap at least, or maybe pounding on Mortan till he gave in and administered her with a hefty dose of pain killers.

"The plan sounds great." she said, "Will see you all in the transporter room." without another word Kala walked out.

Dhani stared at the door as her sister left. It was obvious she was not in a good mood. That certainly would hamper their mission. And she wasn't about to let this be the way she remembered her if it came to that. "I will see you all then, gear up and put your game faces on." she told the others as she too walked to the door, following in the wake of her twin.

"Failure to Disclose"

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas - Second Platoon CO, SFMC – USS Galaxy
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe – Engineering assistant – IKS T'Kengra

****

Mess Hall
IKS T'Kengra

****

(Set two days after the Romulan and Federation Fleet withdrawal from the 'Fight for Romulas')

"And the little runt begged for his life, with tears falling down his cheeks." K'mranic roared, taking another swig of bloodwine before continuing, "Where was the honor in killing such a pathetic wretch like that? So I growled at him and told him if I ever saw him in the sector again I'd hunt him down. And he ran like a weakling, knocking into three of four waitresses and customers before disappearing out the door. And I haven't seen him since!" He roared with laughter.

Kala laughed so hard that bloodwine actually came out of her nose; she turned through her fits trying to contain herself and looked at Jonas, wondering if he kept up with the conversation, K'mranic had a way of telling anecdotes that had you reeling for days.

Despite the level of bloodwine in his system, Steven didn't find his story funny, but laughed along with the rest. He didn't want to insult the Klingons. Who knew how they'd react in their drunken state. "The Ferengi probably ended up in some shithole like Cardassia." He said, between laughs.

K'mranic looked at him for a moment, all laughter forgotten, causing Steven to gulp. But moments later he burst out laughing. "Now that is funny." He slapped Steven on the shoulder.

A loud bang could be heard as one of the other Klingons slipped unconscious and their head slammed into the table. Steven laughed, pointing at him. "He can't hold his bloodwine..."drawing more laughter from the others.

****

A Bedroom
Klingon Ship T'Kengra

****

Steven awoke with a groan. His head was pounding like no tomorrow, his throat was dry and he was sweating a lot. He knew he'd been in this state many times in his life, but none with the likes of what he now felt. To say he was feeling like shit was an understatement. It was a lot worse.

He had a hangover. And not just a normal hangover. He had the mother of all hangovers.

A slim bare arm appeared in his hazy vision as it wrapped itself around his torso, its owner leaning against his back as he lay on his side. Steven could smell a sweet smell of perfume, a slight frangipani scent. He felt a woman's chest against his back as she snuggled up to him and he smiled. She couldn't resist him. Faylin didn't have the restraint to resist him.

Despite the headache, he tried to remember the first time they had been together. It seemed like forever since then, but in reality had been less than a week ago. The day before the Hydrans attacked, that's when it had been. When she had been informed that she was being deployed to the planet. Wait! She was on the planet, maybe even dead, so how could she be... His mind reeled at the thought.

Carefully picking up the arm, he pushed it over his body and back to it's owner before he rolled forward on the bed. His eyes came upon a sleeping form, who murmured "come back to bed" as he moved.

It wasn't Faylin.

The woman before him was very different from her. Most notably the flaming red hair that lay gently over her face as she slept.

The movement caused Kala to open an eye groggily. She hadn't piled that much bloodwine away since victory had been declared over the Dominion. She smiled, that had been one hell of a night. Her relationship with K'Vol had its good moments; though she had been sore for weeks afterwards!

For a moment her smile lingered as she stared up at the form of her lover, but her smile slowly faded as she noticed several startling inconsistencies. For a start the blurry form before her was a lot shorter than she remembered. His shoulders were slimmer, in fact his whole body was different, his skin tone too.

She leaned forward, through her still slightly inebriated state, wobbling on her arms as she did, for a closer look. His hair was shorter, a lot shorter…. "K'Vol?" she called out, wincing as the noise sent a sharp pain through her head.

Though that was nothing compared to the dawning realization that it was not her Klingon consort before her, but someone else… Her stomach turned threatening to throw up bile to add to the disheveled state she was in. ~Fuck!~ was the only word that ran through her mind, on repeat!

"Ah, no. It's Steven." Steven said as he rubbed his face, trying to get his brain to fire into gear.

Kala winced, his voice sent another shooting pain through her skull, she groaned her acknowledgment before resting her head on the scrunched up sheet.

"Eh, what happened last night? My mind seems to have fallen asleep."

"We drank…" Kala mumbled into the sheet, "we drank to prepare our bodies for the upcoming battle……. I think I held my bloodwine like a true warrior…?" she glanced up at the bloke in her bed, or was it his bed (?), hoping for the reply to be 'yes', but he was still swaying and holding his head like it was going to sprout legs and wander off all by itself.

Lethargically she pushed herself up on to all fours and proceeded to crawl over him and out of the bed, the sheet followed, tangled round her ankle.

Half way across the room she paused to kick the sheet away, but the effort was too much and she let her naked body collapse to the floor, quite an undignified 'pit-stop', "Nothing like going to war with a hangover…" she groaned rolling on to her back.

"I feel like a cat shat in my mouth." she observed. Not that Steven really needed to know that, but Kala lacked certain social graces; years of living with Klingons had changed her somewhat. Though in retrospect she never had been in the class of the 'delicate wall flower', that was all Nishta's gig. She was the fire cracker and Dhanishta was the logical, quite, sophisticated one.

"Now that's a mental image I'd rather not have." he said as the headache eased slightly. Seeing that she had collapsed to the ground, he tried to get up to help her but failed miserably. "Are you alright down there?"

Kala looked up at him with those lazy eyes, a chorus of bongo drums behind them, "Yeah.." she replied, though her tone dictated otherwise. "I'll be fine." she added, "just need some coffee."

"Um, did we...?"

Kala closed her eyes and chuckled, "With that much alcohol I'd be surprised if it was even humanly possible…" she shrugged, groaned once more and tried to get up.

"Ugh," he rubbed at his face again, "I didn't think I had that much to drink." He replied as he tried to get up from the bed. Managing to get to a seated position, he laughed lightly at the woman's failed attempt to get up. Shaking his head to get the cobwebs out, he rose shakily and trudged over to her fallen form. Kneeling down, despite the sudden ache that filled his mind, he held out a hand to help her stand up. Without thinking, his eyes drifted to her naked body, admiring the curves of the sexy red-headed Trill. Finally realizing what he was doing, he looked up at her, and seeing her looking at him, grinned. "You have a beautiful body, Kala."

Kala looked down at herself and then back up at Steven…(was it?), "Well thank you." she replied smiling swaying her hips slightly at the compliment, "Your not too bad yourself." she told him, a sly smile creeping across her lips as she looked over his naked form.

"Um, who is K'Vol? You mentioned the name when you woke up."

"Ah…yeah…" Kala fidgeted uncomfortably, her eyes anywhere but on the man before her. Sidestepping him she went for the kitchen area in search of coffee, "He's the First Officer of the ship." she informed him as she breezed past.

"Oh and yeah….. sorta, kinda like my boyfriend…." she added with a brief smile, though the smile was at the coffee.

"He's not gonna barge in on us like this is he?" Steven asked looking around the spartan quarters he had been assigned after Mortan released him.

Kala frowned, "These are *your* quarters aren't they?" she asked rhetorically, "So no, contrary to popular belief, Klingons do actually have manners. Just not quite the same as humans." she muttered poring herself a cup, "Your want one?" she asked indicating the steaming coffee.

Hunting around, Steven picked up piece after piece of clothing, trying to find his trousers. He picked up a small piece of clothing and held it up, noting the serious lack of material, what there was of it was silky to the touch and the slight rose pattern on front of the red panties. "Um, I think these are yours!" Steven held them up for her to see.

Kala looked up from the position she had taken; slouching over the work bench, head first into the steam rising from her mug. She shook her head, "Nope they aren't mine. I go commando. Don't you remember?" she asked quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh dear." Steven murmured. "Eh no, I kind of can't recall much after the drinking. And yes, a cup of coffee would go down quite nicely about now."

Doing up his trousers, he walked over to Kala and the steaming coffee that she was making. "So, what do you do on this boat? Other than sleep with Marines when they arrive?" he winked at her.

Kala obliged pouring him a cup of the ol' hangover killer she contemplated a suitable retort to his accusation. When none was forthcoming through the pounding in her skull she shrugged and handed him the mug. "I am an Engineer." she replied, "Just like Nish." she smiled thinking of her sister. It wasn't often that the 'Starfleet princess' got to see how the other half lived.

"And just to clarify, I don't normally sleep with random Starfleet Marines." she leveled her gaze at him, the last thing she needed was a reputation. She tried to smile it off but the truth was getting to her. She hadn't been happy with K'Vol for a long time now. They had been through their rough times, both cheated at one point or another, yet still they stayed together in a round about way.

Part of her was too afraid to let the relationship die completely, and the other half just wanted her freedom back; the grass is always greener syndrome.

"I was joking about that." He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "I wasn't implying anything. And despite your beauty, if I wasn't drunk I probably wouldn't have... You know." He nodded to the bed.

~Well that's nice~ Kala thought looking at him with venom in her eyes, "Guess I don't need to ask what you do, 'marine' is pretty self explanatory. Saves me from having to make small talk." her smile was thin and her tone slightly scathing.

"Well, I'm an injured marine and so I don't do much at the moment. Just patrolling the halls, oh and being sucked out of starships by the vacuum of space." he smiled.

"Did you ever get taught about tone and body language?" she asked her eyes narrowing on him. Waving her hand she brushed off whatever reply he had and made a move from the work bench.

Pausing in her poignant hard footsteps, she had never been so insulted! He had practically said that she was only bedding material under the influence of alcohol! Charming, if this was the compliment of men on a Starfleet vessel she was A) extremely content to stay aboard the T'Kengra, and B) completely understood why her sister was well on her way into old-maid-hood!

"I'm going to grab a shower, then I will be leaving." she told him, her demeanor cold as ice. "It's lucky for you that we are on the same side." she added walking away from him.

It took Steven a few moments to realize just what had happened. "Wait, please. I didn't mean it like that. It's just... there's someone back on the Galaxy that I've kinda fallen for. I like her a lot and want to see if we are right for each other. That's what I meant. I didn't mean to imply that I'd only sleep with you when I'm drunk. Far from it. I..." Giving up, he walked over to the bed and sat down.

Kala gave him a stare that would freeze a sun, "Really?" she asked slowly, "Interesting that you're so enamored with this woman yet her name hasn't come up ONCE in conversation since you got here!"

"So? I've been trying my hardest not to think about Faylin as much as possible. Last I heard she was MIA down on the planet. And I can't do a damn thing about it. And every time I think of her, I realize that I might never see her again. And I lose my concentration." He lay back on the bed. "So sorry if I haven't mentioned her to you." His voice raised up a notch. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted the hangover gone.

Kala shook her head, "I really don't care that you have a girlfriend," she told him bluntly, "but most people tend to mention that they are with someone else before they seduce another, drunk or not. It's no excuse!" she almost shouted, but knew that would only add to her headache so refrained.

"And before you mention double standards, K'Vol is my ex, we still see each other, though or relationship has pretty much died out. So my failure to disclose has no lasting effects to me or to him. Your's however, if your falling for this girl… well let me tell you, you have royally fucked that up!" she shook her head again and almost chuckled at his blunder, men, fucking men!

Steven shook his head in anger. Not at Kala, but at himself for getting into the situation. "So I seduced you then, did I? Cause it sure looked like you were drinking as much as me."

Kala let out a laugh that could cut duraniam, "Yeah but I'm not the one with a sweetheart back home am I?" she questioned him, "Me sleeping with you betrays no one. And for the record I drank more, I know my limits, I was wasted yes, but this is the T'Kengra…"she shrugged, "I'm always wasted on the eve of a battle! And I wasn't trying to impress, maybe you should learn your tolerance level. You could have said no, at no point in time did you *ever* mention that you had a girlfriend, at *no* point in time did you ever refuse, or indicate that you weren't interested, in fact from the moment you woke up you were hitting on me. Don't you dare try to turn this around on me." she shook her head at him and stormed off into the bathroom ~Mental note, never sleep with a marine!~

~Again!~ she added stepping into the shower.

"A New Level" Part Two

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe, Assistant Chief Engineer USS Galaxy
& Michael McDowell, Civilian Engineering Specialist USS Galaxy

(Set two days after the Romulan and Federation Fleet withdrawal from the 'Fight for Romulas')

*** Location IKS T'Kengra, crew quarters***

The walk to Kala's quarters, where Dhani was staying during the duration of their visit on the T'Kengra was made in relative silence. Only a small amount of chit chat flowing back and forth between the two of them, and even that limited conversation seemed strained as they both wracked their brains to come up with as much irrelevant tripe they could to fill the awkward silence that descended between them.

Once inside Dhani felt the tension rise even more. She chided herself and scratched her head as she stood in the middle of her sister's spartan and cramped living space. "You want a drink?" she offered Michael along with one of her cover-up smiles.

"Yeah, that would be nice." Michael looked around the room. It was rather small and empty. Pure Klingon style, although there were signs that indicated that these quarters were owned by a woman.

Dhani took her time as she fixed them both a drink wondering what the hell she was going to say, how she was going to say it and all the rest. For a moment she cursed her sister for not having a higher rank and there for a larger set of quarters and there for more room to avoid somebody!

The silence that fell between them suddenly felt awkward. It never had been that way. On the Galaxy, when they'd been together in their quarters, such moments had passed without notice...but now it was different. Michael concentrated on the trivial stuff that was to be found in the room, like the peculiar flower on the small table to the right of him and a Klingon type of PADD that lay next to it.

"Here ya go." Dhani said as she returned drinks in hand. And again the atmosphere arose between them, all Dhani could do was stand there, lamely, stroking the condensation on the side of her glass.

"Thanks." Michael took the drink from her. Their hands touched and he felt a tingling sensation through his body which, in turn, increased his heart rate by a few beats per minute. He kept looking in her eyes as he drank some of the beverage she had given him, not able to break away.

"Hey!" Dhani exclaimed after a while of standing before him as if her feet were nailed to the floor, "I have that information on the Hydran that Qel gave us in the briefing. It doesn't have the details on the occupation, but it has as much physiological data on the Hydran as the Klingons saw fit to take notes on." she began to rummage round the room locating the wads of data padds.

"Unfortunately Klingons aren't that great on taking detailed notes about another species," she continued, nose in a bag, butt in the air as she bent over to pick them up, "but they have noted the best striking points on a Hydran body." she paused and looked over to Michael, "Ya gotta love a warrior race." she mused.

"Also they have given us all the information in the Hydran language, which I think will be useful to us. I took the time to write down all the plan possibilities that we came up with earlier. Tomorrow we will need to pick a plan and then just jump in, probably to our deaths, but hey I'm an optimist." It wasn't until now that she noticed the perplexed look Michael was giving her as she babbled on, she hadn't even realized that she was just talking to fill in the silence, "Erm yeah, so, I also have the ship plans here too, they are of course outdated now but they will be a good study. I think we need to prepare ourselves... Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked abruptly, dumping the bag of data pads down in the middle of the floor.

"Well, I..." Michael searched for the right words but got the feeling that whatever he would say it would sound a bit silly. It was at these moments that he wished he could be somewhere else. On the other hand, the only place he wanted to be was with Dhani. "I thought you wanted to talk to me about something else? It sounded like it was important. Ehm, not that this isn't important...just that I didn't expect this to come around."

"Oh!" Dhani exclaimed a little put out. She knew why Michael thought that she wanted to talk about something else, she had sounded rather serious and indicated the topic to be something other than the mission, yet now they were here together, she didn't really want to talk about them. Well she did, she just didn't know where to start, or how to for that matter.

Again the silence descended, and Dhani felt herself getting irritated at how the atmosphere changed between them. Frankly she hated this. After a moment she just shrugged and gracefully lowered herself into the nearest chair; she gave up. Placing her drink on the floor she leaned forward and rested her head in her hands and just stared out across the floor. There was no point just dribbling crap for the sake of trying to make the situation better, it obviously wasn't helping. She wondered if anything would.

Would talking change anything or just make things worse? If she told him how truly scared she felt, what would happen then? She was terrified that if she did follow through on that kiss, if she did let him into all of her life, then she would inevitably hurt him in the worst way. Her life was a mess, she was a mess and she knew it, didn't like to admit it, but then not everyone goes running to a counselor in the middle of the night with

memories of killing children. Not everyone, for that matter, goes running to Victor Von Death Man to ask how much blood stains their hands. To get Michael involved in that, that part of herself that secretly longed to be part of that black world, that craved it like some deranged psychopath, she would have to share all of herself with him for she couldn't not be with him otherwise. And she couldn't, or rather didn't want to share that part of herself with him. Frankly she didn't want to even recognize that part of herself existed, let alone try to explain it to anyone else.

And then there was the flip side, backing out and not following through on the kiss, which was the safest option, for both of them. But even in doing that she could still break his heart. If he really liked her as much as she felt he did, then for her to turn around and whack the breaks on, that itself could destroy all they had. And she valued what they had more than her own life. She sighed, either way there was pain and hurt, either way

she had to make a decision that she didn't want to make.

"Dhani?" Michael said softly as he sat down beside her. "Is there something wrong? I know things have changed a lot between us...but I was hoping that a good thing?" There was a pause before he finally had the courage to say out loud what had been on his mind for the last 4 or 5 months. He couldn't hide it anymore. The feeling had become too strong to suppress. "I love you Dhani. I'm sure you know that by now."

Dhani froze. She felt her stomach lurch at his words. A chill swept through her and she felt her hands trembling. She had known that, sure, she wasn't stupid. But to hear him say it, to hear the words aloud made them real, almost corporeal. In that moment everything seemed to slow down, her vision blurred as her head turned to face him. Why did that line fill her mind with dread? And it wasn't just her mind, her whole body reacted to the words, and she wasn't sure if it was in a good way.

"You love me?" she repeated her voice far off as if she were in a dream state. Her eyes looked at him yet through him at the same time as she processed her reaction. It took a while for her to realize that she was holding her breath, waiting for him to answer. She didn't know why but her eyes stung as she stared at the wall over his shoulder, they welled and before she could restrain them a tear rolled down her paled cheek.

Michael watched the tear as it flowed down Dhani's cheek. A frown appeared on his face which immediately was replaced by a look that radiated compassion. Her reaction was totally different then he'd expected. He reached out and removed the tear with his thumb, thereby softly caressing her cheek. "Something IS wrong, isn't it?"

Dhani almost backed at the touch. She felt him more strongly when they were close, and right now she was so confused with her own feelings, the last thing she wanted to do was confuse hers with his. Lowering her head she refused to meet his gaze. She just couldn't be here; she couldn't deal with this now. Why now? Why did everything have to be so complicated? Sharply she stood up and walked across the room to the window. When she stared out at the stars things usually became clearer. That, or she just fell into a trance as she stared at them and that seemed to make everything better. Folding her arms across her chest she hugged her slight frame, still shaking slightly with cold. The room wasn't cold, the room was a constant temperature; it was just her.

Standing there she tried to ignore the fact that he was sitting behind her, watching her, needing answers. She could feel him, it was almost like she couldn't escape him, yet she never wanted to. Even though she felt as if she was being suffocated, still, she knew that it wasn't by him; it was her own insecurities that choked her.

Slowly, quietly she spoke, "I love you too." she said her tone full of sorrow. "But I am afraid." There she said it. Almost as painful as dragging teeth she supposed. Admitting feelings for her was difficult; they were still alien to her.

So now, finally, it was out it the open. Michael's heart skipped a beat when he heard Dhani's words. They instantly washed away the doubt he'd lived with for so long. The emotion it invoked was overwhelming. It felt like he could take on everything that would be thrown at him now that he knew she loved him too.

After some moments that feeling was tempered by the knowledge that Dhani still was burdened by...something. He could sense it via their telepathic link. She tried to hide it from him, but some seeped through nonetheless. It was tormenting her and Michael couldn't bear to see her going through that. He stood up and walked to Dhani. Standing behind her he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Leaning closer to her he whispered in her ear. "I'm here Dhani... I'll be there for you when you need me, and I do believe that we can beat this thing together that makes you afraid. ...You can lean on me whenever you want."

"That's just the problem." Dhani replied feeling her breath quicken at his touch. "If I 'lean' on you, if I told you just half of my past, the things that I think about, the things that I feel…. The things that I have done…" her voice lowered as she trailed off, staring intently at the stars beyond the window to stop herself from weeping, "I would loose you," she said softly, "and I am terrified of loosing you."

She turned around to face him, his hands trailing across the fabric of her clothing. "If we did this, if we got together, like a couple, and it didn't work out, I don't think I could stand the pain." Looking up her eyes locked onto his eyes, "You are my *best* friend. I never thought of you in that way. And then standing there, so close to you, feeling your breath across my skin, and then that kiss!" she shook her head her eyes never leaving his face, "I can't go through that pain again." she said feeling a pang in her chest. "I lost Chang for the most stupidest of reasons, I couldn't stand to lose you for real ones."

Michael sighed. He averted his eyes when he thought about what to say to Dhani. In a way he did understand her, but he was not prepared to let this chance pass by just like that. If he did, it would never come again. It was only after some long seconds of silence that he spoke again. "Would you believe me if I say I feel the same way? I don't know what I will do if I ever loose you." He looked up again and into her eyes. "But I'm willing to take that chance because I think it's worth taking. You're worth it."

Dhani smiled softly, "Michael you don't understand. If we got together, we risk all this." she said gently placing her hand on his chest. Her heart broke as she resisted what could be the most wonderful thing in her life. She had never been looking for someone to share her life with. She never felt that need to belong to another, not since Chang at any rate. Yet now she was so close to all that she had ever possibly wanted. All the dreams she had shared with Chang, all the plans they had made of family and future, they where here, knocking at her door. She knew the list of possibilities stretched to infinity and beyond, she had no idea what a future with Michael could contain. Her soul cried out for her to take that leap of faith. Screamed at her to just let go of all that held her back and freefall into the unknown, because in her heart she knew that no matter what happened Michael would always catch her. Yet still fear and doubt held her back.

As she looked into his eyes she already knew that no matter what happened now, what they had, the friendship she valued so much, was already changing. The shift was afoot and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Hairs across her body stood on end, electrified by the air that cracked around them as she stared into his deep blue eyes.

"Tell me..." Michael gently removed a few hairs out of Dhani's face."...when did risk ever hold you back?"

The rush overwhelmed her as his fingers brushed her skin. When did everything change? Her heart rate increased, her breathing quickened and she realized for the first time that these were really her emotions. She moved forward, her body inching into his. "I never had anything to loose before." she replied in a near whisper.

Michael's voice could barely be heard as he spoke softly in Dhani's ear. "Right now, I don't see anyone loosing anything here." He moved forward and carefully planted a kiss in her neck. He felt his body react as he smelled her perfume.

The sensation that cascaded through her was enough to make her dizzy. His lips tickled her skin, sending ripples of pleasure throughout her body. She felt her mind fuzz as heat ran up her spine. Pulling back from him she took his face in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. Softly her thumbs grazed his cheeks before they lowered, retreating behind his neck to pull him into a deep kiss.

The emotions came over him like an avalanche as Michael surrendered himself to them. The kiss, along with their passionate embrace, seemed to last for hours and almost took his breath away. In the end he was the one that interrupted the kiss. As he went down, he explored Dhani's neck and kissed her on several spots along the way. His hands went places where he'd never touched her before. Michael had held these feelings for Dhani inside him or so long, had to suppress for years, and now he couldn't hold back anymore...could barely even control them.

At first it was like two starving animals that hadn't eaten in weeks as their hands franticly explored each others bodies, their kisses fast and hard as they moved throughout the room, finally coming to rest by the sofa. Their lips never parted as they slowly lowered to the cushions below.

Everything else fell away as they became lost in each other. The war, the T'kengra, almost dying, the mission; all of it a blur as their minds opened to each other just like the first time they had kissed.

Emotions flowed through the psychic link. She could feel the sensations that ran through him as her nails gently raked his back, she could feel the pleasure her touch gave him. It was truly amazing; to be able to feel his pleasure, it accented hers. And she knew from the placement of his hands that he felt it too.

Their bond seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment. She had no idea how their bond came to be, if she thought back she would realize that they had always had it. From the first time she saw him, feeling that she had known him for years, to the moment when she first spoke to him with telepathy and he heard her. From that moment on there was something special between them. Dhanishta had never read up on her Betazoid heritage, her mother was a mute and for both her children to possess telepathy had been a medical mystery, yet if Dhani had been brought up on Betazed or if her mother had seen fit to supply her children with any information about their culture, Dhani would have realized long go that Michael was in fact her imzadi.

At some point in time clothes flew in all sorts of directions, garments littered the floor as they lay together. Breathing softly, as their naked bodies intertwined gazing deeply into each others eyes their movements slowed, all urgency forgotten as they savored their time together. It was more than sex, it was more than 'making love' it was two souls joining, becoming one.

"For All Our Sons and Daughters" Part One

Featuring, from the IKS T'Kengra;

Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe - Engineering Assistant IKS T'Kengra

And from the USS Galaxy;

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Assistant Chief of Engineering USS Galaxy
2nd Lieutenant Steven Jonas, CO - 2nd Platoon, SFMC, USS Galaxy
Ensign Keldan - Operations Officer, USS Galaxy
Michael McDowell - Civilian Engineering Specialist

(Set three days after the Romulan and Federation Fleet withdrawal from the 'Fight for Romulus')

***IKS T'Kengra, crew quarters***

"Right, from the scans this morning we have a choice of destination," Dhanishta said looking at Keldan, "I prefer Risa to be honest." she cast him a joking smile as she continued to sieve through the information spread out on the table before them. Handing him a data padd with the passive scans the crew of the T'Kengra had taken of the Hydran fleet a little under an hour ago she folded her arms, "What do you think?" she asked.

"You should try Hanamaula Bay in Kauai, on Earth. It's out of the way, and has less of a touristy feel. A truly enchanting place." Keldan held the pad up, staring intently at the information it displayed, but shook his head. "No plan that involves the Klingons is viable. It was magnanimous of them to have rescued us from a slow death in deep space

but expecting any assistance in our plans from here on out would be tantamount to disaster." Pausing a minute, he thought maybe he should add 'sorry', to his statement, since Dhanishta's relations with the Klingons was already being stretched to the limit. But these were the facts, and they couldn't build plans using a support they could not reliably depend on. He tossed the pad into the growing discard pile and grabbed two more.

Dhanishta nodded slowly. In the peripheral of her vision she saw Michael exit from the bathroom, dripping. She couldn't help but smile as he crossed the room and headed for the bedroom. They had both been over the plans several times during the course of the previous evening. In fact they had spent most of the night awake, getting only little sleep. Although not all that time was spent making daring plans to take over hostile Hydran ships! Again a smile crept on to her lips as she listened to what Keldan had to say.

"I think these two represent the best chance for success. We can infiltrate one or the other, or have one team hit each. It doesn't really matter since there'll be no comm. between teams anyway. I think it marginally increases our chance of success to hit two different ships." He let out a small chuckle. "It will certainly do more damage that way.

I'd suggest hitting the ships in this group." He handed one of the padds to Dhanishta. "The warship Annihilus sustained heavy damage during the battle and is undergoing extensive repairs at the L4 point. We could infiltrate it and one of its support ships, assuming the data the Klingons received is accurate." It had better be accurate, Keldan thought. It was the last bit of help they were going to get from them. But then a small smile snuck into the corner of his mouth. He raised his voice so everyone in the room could hear. "What do you think of that as a two-pronged approach, Michael?"

"As my Father would say; seen from a mathematical standpoint, such an approach has indeed a greater chance of success. All factors for both cases being equal and assuming both Teams are equally equipped to do the job of course." Michael said as he walked out of the bedroom towards the group. "Right, I bet he be would proud hearing me say that." he added semi-seriously.

Dhanishta's smile widened as Michael stepped into the room. Her body tingled with excitement every time she looked at him. It had been a difficult challenge to get out of bed, let alone have a shower and then get dressed. But someone had to be dressed before answering the door to let Keldan in! For a moment Dhani wondered why fate had been so cruel as to throw them together now, when in less than a few hours one of them, or both of them could well be dead. She desperately wanted to walk the few steps between them to stand at his side, to hold him, kiss him good morning, to feel his hands across her body, the warmth they emanated, the shear amount of emotion she felt through his touch… but her desires to flaunt her new found love were curbed by the need to be professional and part of her wanted to hide it too. Their relationship wasn't for prying eyes or inquiring minds. It was theirs and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, she didn't want to share it with the world, not yet at least.

"So," Dhani said unable to wipe the grin off her face, "We are going for a two pronged approach then, I like that idea better we..."

Keldan interjected, "Where are Kala and Jonas? We are going to have to get this plan moving assuming everyone is in agreement."

A frown crossed Dhani's face as she checked the time, "They should be here by now." she replied, "Did you see them about on your way here Kel?"

"No. They could be anywhere aboard ship, together or apart, for all I know." he replied.

As if on queue the doors parted revealing a red faced Jonas and an equally red faced Kala. Despite the load he was carrying, Steven paused to let Kala enter the room first.

"Yeah, sorry we are late." Kala said casting a wary eye to Jonas, "I bumped into him in the Mess hall this morning, we got talking about the mission and lost track of time." Smiling slightly she crossed the room and took a seat at her desk, picking up one of the strewn padds she scanned it briefly before tossing it back down and resting her head in

her hands, a slight moan escaped her lips.

Steven dropped the stuff in his hands onto the nearest empty table and began sorting it out. It wasn't the best gear around, but being that they were alone on a Klingon ship, it was the best he could do at such short notice. He began handing out weapons to each of the Galaxy crew members that stood nearby.

Michael took one of the hand weapons Steven gave him. "You know, it's been a while for me. I could do with some target practice. Shame that they don't have a Holodeck here." He looked at the Klingon type weapon, "They agreed to let us use these?"

"Sorry, they don't have much available that doesn't look Klingon, so I grabbed what I could. Besides, we can hope to not need them."

Kala looked up, swiveling in her chair she answered Michael, "It depends on how you define the term 'agreed'." she said flatly. She was still slightly pissed off with Jonas, and her headache hadn't totally passed. Kala never was one for mornings, groaning again she rubbed her temples.

"The only non Klingon weapon around is my own weapon which I still had with me from when we were rescued. And as the person with the most experience in combat, I'll be using that. Of course, if you'd prefer to carry sticks and a bag of stones to throw at the Hydrans, then be my guest." he grinned.

Keldan walked over and began looking through the items on the table. "You shouldn't underestimate the damage potential of a good, heavy rock. It may not take the enemy out, but it certainly does slow them down a bit, especially if your aim is true."

Wandering towards Kala, Dhani stole a moment to whisper in her ear, "Where were you last night?" she asked curious. She was in fact thankful that her sister hadn't come home, but as the same time she was a little worried, the amount of drink she had seen her sister consume before she left the mess hall was immense, that coupled with the leering marine… yeah, she wanted to know!

Kala didn't even look up, "I stayed with K'Vol last night." she replied evenly. "Thought you might prefer the bed to yourself, I would have called but I was pretty wasted." she added. Flashing a smile she stood up and went to get a drink, but the question from Jonas made her pause.

"So, what's the plan?" Steven asked as he looked at Dhani and Kala standing next to each other. The similarities between them were uncanny. If it wasn't for the hair, and now that he saw them together, their eyes, he would swear that they were exactly the same.

"Blitzkreig"

Flt. Admiral Victor Murdock

And a bunch of others. Characters used without permission. So nyah.

21 Days after the withdrawal

-------------------------

Combat Information Center
Deck 8, USS Miranda

-------------------------

"Two minutes." Captain Albrecht called out from across the CIC's main holotank. Murdock's aide was standing opposite the table from the Admiral, who was watching the holographic display, arms folded.

Murdock nodded briskly as the long-range scans came into sharper focus, with data that was being collated from the scanners of all the ships in the Allied fleet - something that was taking some serious number crunching on the part of the ship's computers. The Ops people had actually had to fire up the old tertiary core - from back when the ship had been MVAM capable - to avoid any adverse affect on Miranda's systems.

Still, Victor couldn't help but marvel at the the constant detail the CiC afforded him - hell, he could see everything from here.

Beside him stood Commander Dawson - Gail - who was overjoyed at being back aboard Miranda, despite the circumstances. He could relate - but then, it was a little more special for her, given that her husband was the Miranda's Chief Engineer.

Lieutenant' Daniels, one of the Miranda's Tactical staff, was standing nearby was well. With the Gorn he'd met earlier - Lieutenant K'aa - on the bridge, Daniels was nominally in charge of the CIC. As far as the Miranda's crew went, regardless.

Much like the Hydrans had when they had attacked, the Allied Fleet was coming into the system perpendicular to the solar ecliptic - that way, they could penetrate directly until they reached Romulus's gravity field.

And they were coming in *fast*. Dangerously so, perhaps, but that was part of the plan.

--------------------

Near-Romulus space
Vengeance One
(Cloaked Romulan science vessel, IRV Dolvarus)

---------------------------------

Commander Varel looked askance at her Starfleet counterpart - or more accurately, at the device that took up the majority of his small vessel's cargo bay. "You are certain then, Gorham, that this device of yours will work?"

"Yeah, more or less." Nate responded. The Commander was a member of the Starfleet Corps of Engineer's theoretical design team - one that came up with a load of new technologies, like the device in front of them. "We call it the SSP generator."

"Sub Space Pulse generator, yes?" Varel asked. "And interesting concept, based, I beleive, on old electromagnetic pulse devices?"

"Yeah, exactly." the engineer replied. "EMPs used to be able to knock technology out, but most cultures shield against that now. SSP, though, is a new approach to the same thing. So we hit that button, and every ship within range - which oughtta be their whole fleet - will be disabled."

"For how long?" the Romulan asked.

"Oh.. i dunno." Gorham shrugged. "Three, four minutes?"

"That is not much time."

"Could be everything." he replied, and checked his chrono.

"And the T'Kith'Kin vessels?" Varel asked. "How will this device affect them? They utilize no mechanical technology - everything they have his bioengineered."

"Yeah, I, uh..." the Bostonian shrugged. "I have no idea."

The Romulan woman raised a Vulcanoid eyebrow. "Then this should be..

interesting."

The timer beeped then.

"Well.." Nate started. "Here we go..."

------------------------

Near-Romulus Space

------------------------

As the Dolvarus decloaked, ships of the Hydran Warfleet - and their rather numerous T'Kith'Kin and Breen allies - moved into action. There was a great deal of consternation about how the small Romulan vessel had evaded thier anti-proton nets, but they had very little time to do anything as the subspace pulse spread throughout the fleet.

Within seconds, every Hydran and Breen ship was effectively disabled, all computer systems forced into a shutdown mode by the subspace pulse.

Fifteen seconds later, the Allied fleet came out of warp just on the edge of Romulus' gravity field, below the solar ecliptic. One third of the fleet, led by the Miranda, Galaxy and the IRV Praetor - which carried the Empress and the remainder of the senate. Another third of the Fleet, led by the Cheyenne, the Scimitar II, and the Dar'chak, came in from below the ecliptic, surrounding the occupying Triad fleet on both sides. The final elements came in also from above, but at an an angle that allowed them an approach paralell with the ecliptic within minutes. The third force was led by the Valdore, the K'mpec, and the Atlantia.

The Hydran warfleet was surrounded - and completely defenseless.

Except for the three-hundred fully functional vessels of the T'kith'Kin Hive.

-------------------------

Combat Information Center
Deck 8, USS Miranda

-------------------------

"The shield is still up." Albrecht reported.

"Not suprisin," Murdock noted. "If the rebels were waitin for us to show up before takin it down, then they'll be makin their move soon.

Put the ground forces on standby. We'll launch hoppers soon's we get a hole in that field. Notify the Marines."

"On it." Albrecht replied.

"Out with it, Mr. Daniels." the Admiral continued, having noticed the young tactical officer's expression.

"Uh, yes, sir." the Lieutenant began. "The SSP worked, sir - but not on the T'Kith'Kin ships. The Starbeast isn't affected, either."

"As expected." Murdock nodded. "Allright. Scramble the fighters. And Dawson - get me an all-ships channel."

"You're up." the Intelligence officer replied.

"All ships, this is Admiral Murdock." he began. "Disable those ships while they're defenseless. All fighters concentrate on disabling Hydran launch bays. Don't kill unless ye have to. All ships, weapons free. Fire at will."

The last part was an order he knew would end up disobeyed, but he had to give it. it was a dirty tactic, taking shots at people who couldn't defend themselves, but - hopefully - the allied fleet would limit thier shots at the disabled craft to disabling shots.

Some wouldn't, he knew. But every Triad ship out of the fight was one less to take on the allies. And with nearly even odds - twelve hundred ships on both sides - and the future of the quadrant at stake..

well, it was something they'd have to live with.

On the holotank, swarms of Starfleet, Romulan, Klingon and Reman fighters boiled out of thier launch bays, moving to attack. From the big ships, phaser and disruptor fire began to lance out as the T'kith'kin ships were moving to intercept.

The Romulans had returned to their homeworld, and they'd brought friends.

-------------------------

Main Bridge
Deck 1, USS Miranda

-------------------------

Captain Jaxom sat in the center seat of the Miranda, trying not to think of what had happened to the last man who'd sat in that chair, the last time they'd been at Romulus.

Miranda was understaffed, like a lot of the senior ships in the fleet, having loaned a lot of personell out to the other, understaffed ships.

Murdock really had dredged up everything he could get his hands on for this.

Behind him, K'aa stood at the Tactical station, softly snorting breath out of his nostrils. To his left, Jack Dawson, who was his Acting XO - was also manning the ops station, since Erigone had taken temporary command of a little Defiant, the Sparta. Cernu was at sciences again, and John Ramirez was at the helm. Dakota was at communications, of course, and Shaav and Jenna De'dro were running things down in Engineering.

McKeon and Weber were both at the Intel stations, the former tracking the Starbeast, and the latter, everything else. There was an open channel to CIC, for the ship's own tactical analysis, as well as Murdock's command line.

As Murdock's orders came over the comm, Jaal added his own.

"Lieutenant K'aa, let's open up strong." the Trill ordered. "Go with the cannon."

"Target, sssir?"

"Something big."

----------------------------

Romulus surface
Ki Baratan outskirts
former Tal Shi'ar Bunker

----------------------------

Kerec and his team - a hodgepodge of unificationists, military personnel, and some Starfleet people - all started as a display in the bunker they were checking out came to life.

"Elements.." he breathed, seeing the display of the situation in orbit above.

"Kerec to Carniero." he said immediately, activating his comm. "The fleet's here! Are we ready to bring down the shield?"

["Uh.. yeah. Sure."] the erratic engineer replied. ["Give me.. ah..

give me a little bit."]

"How long?"

["I'll let you know."] Carniero replied, and closed the comm.

Then he set about contacting Arvelion, who was out on a mission, and Elaithin, who was as well.

Arvelion responded, and was ready. He had several operations planned already - and was in the process of engaging some of them.

From Elaithin's team, there was no reply.

OOC: This happens right before 'Blitzkrieg'

"Battle Ready"

or

"Playalien: Miss October"

Acting Captain Jaal Jaxom
Lieutenant Th'Khiss K'aa

"Tactical and Sciencesss have modified a type one probe to pierce the hide of the Ssstarbeassst and deliver a payload of Borg-type nano-probesss. The only variable would be the time they take to reach the creaturesss cortex and conflict with their T'Kith T'Kin targetsss."

Jaal nodded and moved on to the next console monitoring the Miranda's repair progress.

"Repairsss to the main canonsss and phassser arraysss are complete.

Shieldsss and ablative armor generatorsss and have been repaired and are operating normally, though sssome of the damage to the Miranda'sss superssstructure will require drydock for full repairsss."

Jaal glanced back to K'aa and nodded again, "I knew about the superstructure. That thing hit us harder than anything else I can remember."

"Quantum and photon torpedoesss and other ordnance from Admiral Murdock'sss transssport have been loaded. Launchersss are remain fully operational."

That, at least, make the Trill commander crack a small smile.

"Extra Communicationss and Fighter Control personnel have been reassigned to the CIC to try hijacking the communication sssignalss of the Hydran fightersss – essstimatessss are we may only get twelve to fifteen sssecondssss of interruption of their tactical grid, but in a dogfight, I'm certain that will be ssssignificant." K'aa narrowed his eyes and gave the Trill a cursory glance, Jaal's reactions not being quite what the reptilian had come to expect.

"Ten seconds is an eternity to a fighter pilot," Jaal commented as he moved to the next console lining the bridge's port wall. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"Hrrrr… Beta Shift has remained insssolent throughout the conflict – they are presssently loaded in the forward torpedo tubesss and awaiting your command to open fire: the Galaxy could ussse a coat of red paint anywaysss…"

Jaal stood up straight and looked at the Gorn tilting his head with a deeply furrowed brow. "Are you fucking with me Lieutenant?" Others on the bridge who were eavesdropping stopped and smirked. Janeen, at the ops console, had to cover her mouth to stop herself from giggling out loud.

The commander looked around the bridge at the other officers on duty.

They quickly buried their noses in their work. Jaal noted some were trying to hide amused expressions. It was a good thing. It meant morale wasn't completely in the shitter after the recent defeat.

The Gorn's eyes finally widened to their usual size. "Hssss… merely making sssure you were lisssstening. You ssseem… unussssually preoccupied Captain – there are a few more itemsss of businesss to discuss."

Truth be told, the commander was a bit pre-occupied. Not only were there nearly three hundred Klingon and Reman ships outside, not only did the Old Man himself show up with the rest of the Federation's Starfleet, not only were they getting ready to go up against the Hydrans and their pet again, and not only did was his younger sister getting a taste of 'real war' while still taking her academy classes... Era was still out there... somewhere... hopefully still alive and uncaptured. Better to be slightly distracted now, when it's relatively safe, than later in the heat of battle.

If they failed here the Hydran invasion machine would keep going...

and how long before it reached... home?

Jaal's eyes narrowed this time. He liked K'aa despite him almost eating his sister in the CiC over six months ago. Well, that was according to Janeen. The elder Jaxom was sure it hadn't panned out 'quite' that way. "Let's adjourn to the ready room. Shall we?"

==Captain's Ready Room==

Jaal replicated himself a steaming mug of coffee and gestured for K'aa to help himself. Soon, the hulking reptilian was seated before him with a large, ceramic flagon of boiling water.

"Whatcha got for me?" the Trill asked after taking a generous sip from his mug.

"A number of thingsss", K'aa drawled. "Firssstly – Ensssign Tagra hasss devisssed a shield modification of quite extraordinary qualitiesss. He isss running tactical simulationsssss now, but in a nutshell – we may be able to divert the damaging energy of the Hydran Hellbore to bolssster our own shieldsss and recharge the main cannon more quickly. The preliminary data lookssss quite promisssing." He handed Jaal a PADD with a detailed overview of the project, as well as a realtime replay of the last simulation.

Jaal studied the PADD intently for a moment. "This is good... I'm impressed." He looked up at K'aa, "Keeping our own shields in tact will be a plus too. I'm not sure the ablative armor will be as effective as before... especially on the saucer section where that 'thing' hit us."

"Sssecondly, I need to assk – during the firssst battle over ch'Rihan, the transsssphassic torpedoesss were not usssed." K'aa lowered his hissing basso to a quieter, more serious tone. "Hasss Ssstarfleet given usss permissssion to ussse the full meansss to accomplish a proper attack? Can the Miranda ussse her full capabilitiesss? Asss acting CTO, I need to know what resssourcesss are available as our ssstrategic environment developsss."

The Trill rubbed his chin in thought while listening. That was a real good question. "Those things were designed to be used against the Borg, as I'm sure you know. It takes the top two commanding officers of the ship to authorize their use. Captain Summers never mentioned them during the battle. Naturally, I followed his lead." Jaal paused strolled leisurely over to the window. "Had I been in command..." he nodded to the fleet outside, "You can bet your tail we would've used them." The Trill suddenly turned to face K'aa again, "Murock is in command now... I don't know what he's going to do... just yet... but I'll make sure to offer the suggestion."

"Excellent. That leadsss to our next pice of businessss - sssomething that might be... dissstasssteful." K'aa offered Jaal another PADD, this one with an animated sequence of a lithe, semi-naked Deltan female performing an intricate, graceful choreography.

Jaal's left eyebrow rose in curiosity. His never left the PADD as he quipped, "I've always been a fan of Deltan pornography... but what's this got to do with the Hydrans and their pet?"

"Ssssorry. Sssplit the dissplay with the sssecondary animated sssequence - you'll sssee that the graphic of the nubile young woman bearsss relevance." K'aa remained absolutely still, but the Trill swore that the reptilian had darkened a shade or two of green.

Activating the second sequence, a tactical schematic of the Starbeast appeared next to that of the Deltan dancer. After concentrating on both images, Jaal slowly began to see a pattern emerge - the tentacle movement of the creature was timed almost exactly to the limb movement of the Deltan female. K'aa offered his own observation as the sequence repeated. "Complimentsss of Lieutenant Bentall on the Exeter

- we've run the comparisonsss a number of timesss with different persssonel in the CIC. The resultssss are the sssame - Missster Bentall believess that there isss a Deltan component in whatever the Hydransss are using to control the creature. If the data isss correct, the Ssstarbeassst 'telegraphsss' its blowsss - a ussseful piece of information, yesss?"

Jaal finally looked up from the PADD, "Useful? OH this will be useful all right. Send my compliments to Mister Bentall."

"Absssolutely", the Gorn replied. The information, if the Starbeast used the same sequence of movements in its attacks, would be priceless in battling the creature. K'aa appreciated the knowledge of the Exeter's present CTO - but didn't press as to how Bentall had become such an expert on Deltan dance. ~Some things are better left unknown.~

"Lassstly, Captain - I'd like to go over what you expect from Tactical in the upcoming battle." K'aa wiped his eyes with his nictitating membranes to get a clearer view of Jaxom's expressions. "My battle experience on the bridge hasss been limited to our recent engagement with the Borg under Captain Sssummersss. Different Captain...

different circumstancesss."

Jaal nodded. "It's simple K'aa, really," the Trill stated with a stern expression. They guy who'd been in so much trouble at Starfleet Academy for pranks and practical jokes was gone. Nothing remained now but the Starfleet commander suddenly in command of a ship of the line.

"Next time we go against those Hydrans and their pet K'aa... I expect us to win."

"The Prisoner"

Alklaatu Verati'ss, Former Commander, IHV Shield of Resolution

IHV LIGHT OF VINDICATION, INQUISITOR'S BRIG
=====================================

The lights of the cramped cell flickered, then faded into a merciless cold blackness. Sounds that once vibrated through the Light of Vindication's hull, the hum of the reactor, the constant flowing of the air pumps, the static hissing of various force-fields - all came to an almost absolute quiet. The only sounds were the chittering clamor of Hydran fear and panic.

~Ah, Matron - I warned you not to underestimate them.~

Had he been a normal prisoner, Verati'ss may have been able to have sprung and overwhelmed his guards, but as a heretic the customary chains and shackles not been overlooked by the Inquisition. The lone guard, draped in the vermilion robes of the Inquisition, shifted nervously on his three legs and hefted his now useless disruptor and peered futiley into the absolute darkness.

Quietly, the former Master of the Shield of Resolution offered some advice to his captor. "I'm no threat guard - your chains have seen to that. You should..."

"Silence heretic filth!" was the guards curt, squealing answer.

Verati'ss could see nothing, but the shuffling sounds of the guards feet faded into silence as he trundled off into the main corridor.

Alone, the na-Count permitted himself to allow the tension in his body to bleed out, and to breathe freely for the first time in days.

He did not dwell on the ceaseless interrogation that lacked questions, or the maddening politeness of the Inquisitor's voice, or even the stony silence of the T'Kith T'Kin "observer" who peered over the guardrail to see Verati'ss' torture. His thoughts, however useless the Matron thought of them, was of his fine ship and the crew that had betrayed him.

As Master and Commander of the Shield of Resolution, he had served for over fifteen 'Qel, as the Hydran Kingdom surged from obscurity to once again being a galactic power. She had fought at Havras, and the battles before and since. She had met Lyran flotillas and dealt them bitter defeat as she had sup'd the nectar of victory. She had served to crush the first two Galae the Rihannsu had sent to fave them, and had performed exceedingly well over the skies of ch'Rihan itself.

Now, like the rest of the Hydran fleet, she was powerless, and cold.

Out in the corridor, a wide-eyed Verati'ss could see the occasional flicker of light and knew the source didn't come from the systems of the Light of Vindication. His suspicions were proven when the Hydran warship shook, and echoed with the sound of explosions and the squeal of twisting, shattering metal.

~Phaser fire. Torpedoes. Many of them. Do you see now, Matron?

Vigilance ensures a lasting victory, not faith. Faith is best left for better things... more precious things than a soldier's lot.~ A minute later, the cell lights flickered and the hum of the Light of Vindication's reactor shook the hull once more, but the cold feeling of the darkness didn't leave Alklaatu Verati'ss.

~Minutes! By the gods! Minutes! What have they done to us?~

~What have we done to ourselves?~

"We Happy Few"

Captain T'Riele, Commanding Officer
Commander Ranjit Singh, Executive Officer

Bridge, USS Sao Paulo
=================

"Forty seconds to arrival. Phaser arrays charged, torpedoes armed and at the ready, Captain."

"As discussed Commander Singh - long range targets to be the first on the Miranda's port flank. We'll keep close to her this time, Number One. The fighters will come to us this time." To herself, T'Riele had many misgivings of the upcoming battle, but not as many as the first battle over ch'Rihan. This time, while many questions about the enemy remained vague, the direction of the fleet was not guided by a firmer, more steady hand.

Today, Victor Murdock went to war.

She wasn't sure how the elderly human had managed it, but both the Remans and Klingons were now firmly involved in the conflict and the fleet, divided into three, met the enemy in a more strategic, more logical fashion. The late Captain Summers, to his credit, had met the enemy with a bold defensive strategy that would have shattered any other force, but too many riddles flew with the Hydrans that day.

Riddles only the dead have answers for.

"Time, Number One?"

"Twenty seconds, Captain." Ranjit Singh was amazed at T'Riel's level of composure as they approached ch'Rihan for the second time. Her cool logic had cut through much of the usual tension a buildup before a battle usually developed, but today you could chill water by placing it next to the Vulcan. His amazement turned to surprise when the Captain asked a question.

"Mister Singh, do you like Macbeth?"

"The Scottish Play Captain?" With the fleet quickly nearing the Hydran fleet, the Sikh wasn't sure where T'Riel was going with her question.

A lesson for sure - but which one? "Not one of my favorites, but popular with the crowds for certain."

"Why the 'Scottish Play'?"

"Well, it's usually bad luck when you have to perform it" Singh offered. "In the past, any production that was cut short due to poor sales was quickly replaced with the Scottish Play. It's real name became associated with misfortune in the theatre."

"Ah. I was curious. Thank you, Number One." The answer seemed to placate the Vulcan until she made a second inquiry.

"And what about 'break a leg'?"

"Ten seconds. It means 'good luck'. When you 'break a leg', you're bowing and receiving the grace and accolades of your audience.

Captain... where are you going with this?"

T'Riel simply offered a raised eyebrow to her first officer. "To ch'Rihan, Mister Singh - where I want nothing broken, supersticiously or otherwise, on the Sao Paolo. Let the Hydrans distract themselves with their ideologies Commander, and let us meet them with strategy, tactical brilliance, and applied physics."

Singh smiled at the Captain's attempt at a humorous rebuke. "Consider myself chastised, Captain. We're coming out of warp, tac'ing alongside the Miranda's port. Shields up. The Hydrans... they're not alone Captain. Scanners are picking up approximately five - hundred other vessels... mostly T'kith T'Kin living hulls, a few hundred Breen craft. This'll make the first battle look like a cakewalk!"

T'Riel seemed both unsurprised and unrattled. "We knew they'd be here. Tactical: commence firing on the pre-selected target."

The Defiant-class Sao Paulo shook as her heavy ordnance bore into the first Hydran strike cruiser, which blossomed a bright orange-white plume in the dark silhouette of eclipsing ch'Rihan.

Nervously, Commander Ranjit Singh oversaw the power operations that made the Sao Paulo function most effectively, but subconsiously another verse crossed his mind before the fleet fully entered the fray.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition:

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

So began the Second Battle of Romulus.

"The JAG and the Marine"
(Front Lines of Love and War)

(8 days after the fleet withdraws - Occurs before "Snapped" and "A Kept Woman")

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG/Security, USS Galaxy

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
CO - Second Platoon
Furies 188th Detachment, USS Galaxy

****

ch'Rihan

****

"What are the reactions when a JAG and a Marine see a snake?" Faylin asked the small group.

"Don't know... what?" Retorted Bear.

"A JAG advises the snake on the rules of engagement and the law of war as it pertains to the snake and its defensive posture. A Marine, on the other hand, shoots it, giggles, and goes off looking for more snakes."

Laughter filled the room at the bad joke. The door slightly open, anyone in the main hall could pick out Faylin's feminine laughter over all the other male chuckles.

He was still amazed at how many Hydran patrols he had had to avoid as he slowly made his way back. He had managed to steer clear of them and now found himself back among the marines that formed the resistance.

His chest still hurt with each breath, and he was starting to feel a little light headed.

As he walked down the hall, he could hear Faylin's laugh coming from within a doorway. He thought about saying hi, but spotted her big friend standing next to her and decided to just continue on. Steven didn't feel in the mood for a fight, even if it was a verbal one.

Bear nudged her, as he saw Steven walking through the corridor.

Knitting her eyebrows and standing, she peeked around the large cherry finish door, and upon recognizing him, flung the door wide open and went charging up to him, squeezing him with a large hug. "Oh God, you're safe!"

Steven grimaced as she hugged him, the broken rib pushing dangerously hard against his lung. Grabbing her arms, he pushed her off of him, before placing his hand upon his chest. "Easy Fay, My chest hurts like hell."

"Come on then....the medical station is at the end of the hall." It's not that far. She wrapped her hand around his hand, whether he wanted her to or not.

They walked in silence down the hall, guiding him over to a cot while wildly waiting for a doctor. "Where do you hurt?"

"You mean other than my heart?" He replied, trying to figure out what her next hurtful plan was.

"What's wrong Steven? Is it about Bear?"

"Yes... eh.. no. God, this is hard. I did something wrong. I know that.

But I wanted to have an open and honest relationship, so I didn't lie.

I didn't hide the truth. And you treated me like crap. And then ran off with that big oaf. And made me feel like you never cared about me.

Like I was some fling you wanted to forget."

"Look. All things on the table? I was hurt when you told me about sleeping with someone else. I was more hurt than you can imagine. I treated you, the way I felt. The prank war is still on, isn't it?

Because the total so far is me two, you zero." Faylin smiled slightly, then placed her hand on his hand. "Bear and I are only friends......that's it honey. It was sneaky and underhanded, yet I wanted to get even with you. I never slept with him."

"You serious? Cause I nearly chose not to come back due to how I thought you felt about me"

"You want to know how I feel about you? You really want to know?"

Faylin paused.

"Yes... please."

"Oh Jonas.....I love you....ya big grunt. I don't know how I can make it any clearer."

Steven stopped in his tracks, having been floored by what she had said.

Turing to her, he reached up with his good hand, and cupped her chin, bringing her to him. Giving her a quick kiss on the lips, he smiled.

"I love you too."

Faylin's eyes softened as she sighed with contentment. "Took a war to have us tell that to each other. I'd hate to see what needs to happen to get to the next step." She stated with a light chuckle.

"Now, babe, how about you get me to the doc, so he can make me better so I can do something I've wanted to do with you since we parted up on the Galaxy?" He was grinning from ear to ear. A marked improvement on a few minutes before.

"Before I get a doctor, you need to tell me what you want to do with me....."

Steven smiled. "You know what I want."

"Nope, I don't. You have to explain it to me....in lay mans terms."

Faylin giggled.

He traced her lips with his fingers. "Oh ok. I want you. I want every inch of you, like there's no tomorrow. I want to make wild passionate love to you, Faylin. Satisfied with that answer?"

She froze. "That'll work."

"And what pray tell, do you want to do with my injury ravaged body?"

"Nothing until you get a shower....you stink."

"For that hon, I don't think I'll have one for a week" Steven poked his tounge out at her when he had finished speaking.

"Oh, and you can talk. Where's the flash nail polish and your beautiful perfume?"

"We are in a war soldier. I don't have time for beauty treatments!"

She stated with a mock For'kel imitation.

"Where's the doctor?" She stated with a twinge of aggrivation.

"Are you that eager to get it on again?" He asked feeling the aggrivation in her voice as she queried the doctor's location.

"Steven....grow up." She stated in a firm, Marishish type tone of voice.

He grinned. "Cause I'm quite content to just hold you close at the moment."

Steven staggered to the side. He was thankful that Faylin had her arm around him, or he would have crashed to the floor. " I think I need to lie down for a bit." He scratched at the wound on his forehead, letting dried flakes of blood fall to the ground. Reaching up, he carressed her cheek. "Sorry hon, I'm feeling a little tired..." Steven slipped backwards from his seated position onto the cot as his body began to go into shock at the loss of blood.

Looking around her surroundings, her eyebrows knitted in frustration.

"If I don't get a doctor over here, I'm doing the bloody work myself!"

McAlister bellowed. In an instant, a doctor appeared.

Looking up at Faylin, Steven couldn't help but smile. She was an amazing woman, and he was excited about the prospect of them making a life together. "I love you." he said as the doctor approached.

"Half a League, Half a League, Half a League onward"

Captain Kent Logan, Commanding Officer
USS London

"You heard the Admiral" Kent ordered, springing up out of his chair.

"Fire at will." He glanced towards the Tactical Officer, to watch him hit the firing sequence that the 'Commander had spent the approach to Romulus programming in. Logan wanted his crew to be ready when they arrived in system, and ready they definately were. As the Hydran and Breen ships sat defenseless, Kent couldn't help but be reminded of the times when he himself had been left all but defenseless on that Colony they had crash landed on in the Delta Quadrant.

Ten Years fighting the Jem'Hadarchanged him somewhat. He was less the Operations Officer he had been, before he became an Exec that is, and now more of a Tactician. More of a Fighter. Which made him realise instantly what he had to do. "Target the T'Kith'Kin ships, give them everything we've got." He glanced at his crew again, "lets do it for Captain Ramirez."

He saw smiles on the faces of those around the Bridge. Those who had served the London's beloved previous Commanding Officer. Revenge seemed to be a good motivator for anyone. Kent had never fought any of the other races though, and held no personal malice towards. But they had crossed a line, and ignited a War. And he was proud to be one of many wearing the uniform as the Massive Combined Fleet opened fire on the Enemy ships.

As a barrage of Torpedoes was unleased upon the T'Kith'Kin cruiser that the Sovereign Class starship bore down on, another ship fired its weapons at the London. The ship was still suffering from the last time that they'd been fired upon in Romulan Space, almost three weeks earlier.

"Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death, Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!

"Charge for the guns!" he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred." Kent muttered as the battle raged on. One of the crew looked at him, eitehr uncertain of the quote, or unsure why their Captain had chosen that moment to say those words.

"Tennyson" he said looking at the officer, before saying, "now lets make sure we don't join them." Returning to the Command Chair, Logan was glad to have known this crew. They were good Officers. He hoped with his life that the Second Battle of Romulus wouldn't be his last.

Well, he did hope that it would be his last battle,he just hoped he lived to see a peace beyond it.

"The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him a friend." he muttered, as he watched Two Quantum Torpedoes and a Phaser Volley rip open an Enemy ship. "So much for that..."

Lt.(JG) Deny Darmajava, Tactical Analyst, USS Miranda(npc)
Ensign T'Jaden "TJ" Tagra, Engineering Officer, USS Miranda

Deck 7, CIC

TJ and Darmajava had made significant progress on the shield modifications over the last several hours. TJ had finally figured out how to transition the shields when thier systems and reserves where full from the 'borrowed' energy of the Hellbore. The shilds operated at the same specs, fundamentally at least, so they could pass between one another when the computer changed thier size. But as with everything thus far, it was all theory.

"Alright, we're ready to start a full simulation. Could you keep an eye on the oscillations from the polaric splitter? I'm worried about feedback into out power conduits. Last thing we need is the Miranda lighting up like Fair St. Louis."

"OK - I've set up the required breakers", Darmajava echoed, his head still lodged in an open wall panel. "They should blow should it get too hot in here... I hope." Grunting, the Indonesian tac officer finished the last connection and closed the panel. "Last thing we need is an upset K'aa."

TJ tried not to chuckle too loudly, but it couldn't be helped, "I second that." His hands flew over the controls of the holotable as he entered some of the newer changes to the modifications. He already had Ensign Davidson and Petty Officer Oso working on the shield generators, so that part was going forward. All the technological needed was the programming and then all should work. However, with some of the changes made, all TJ's fellow Engineers could do was add the polaric splitter. If everything stayed on track, then most of the work ahead should just be on shunting power to the various systems, that's where the breakers came in, one of the many safeties they had come up with since K'aa had left them.

"I got the simulations ready. Also changed that damned conduit glitch, so the power feed to the ablative armor generators should be smooth. And I changed the ratings on the new transfer points to 250 terajoules."

Deny shot him a worried look, "Don't worry, they're rated at 325 to 375 terajoules."

"Well, that makes *all* the difference", Darmajava joked as he went over the tactical simulation's setup. "You think we're ready to light the fuse?"

"Let me check." TJ typed a few commands and read over the information, "Yep, we're ready."

The sim began with the Miranda surrounded by two diffrently coloured shields. A Hellbore came from an unseen Hydran ship and impacted the modified shields. The screen showed the energy wrapping around the shields and being drawn into the ship and sent it to the cannon, which fired eighty-five percent faster than ever recorded. TJ ordered several more hits, some several at once. The design worked perfectly. TJ turned to Deny, "Can't argue with those results. But I'm still not satisfied. That was just the Miranda up against four Hydran Capital ships. I'm going to run this as if we had this during our last battle."

He entered the commands and the Miranda banked and turned against the unseen enemies. The results changed drastically from the first sim. The modified shields shrank beneath the unchanged ones several times only to rise back up after several fusion beam hits. The cannon fired as predicted while the phasers fired at over one hundred and sixty percent of normal. Then the Starbeast appeared and the Miranda spun away.

"These results are much closer to what I'd consider reality. The modifications held, but the power conduits blew on Decks 8 and 17. Estimates are at over ninety percent fatalities. The oscillation program failed to keep up. We missed something." TJ walked away from the holotable trying to think of what to do. If that was a real fight, then several hundred poeple would have just died.

"Let's replay the sim just prior to the overload and see where the failure was", the tactician offered. "The problem with Deck 17 could be some system damage when the Miranda's saucer and main sections were fused. We could evacuate that deck, but Deck 8's Sciences, and I'm pretty sure they'll be damn busy analyzing the Starbeast when the fur starts to fly. Zooming into the affacted areas. Here we go."

"Can't argue with the Deck 17 scenario, since it's the most likely cause. But Deck 8 shouldn't be a problem," TJ replied as the sim zoomed. It showed a power condit that de-polorized from a resonant frequency, aparently a unforeseen fault in its particular design. It sent a cascade affect throughout the deck.

TJ hit his commbadge, "Ensign Tagra to Ensign Davidson and Petty Officer Oso. Which one of you can be pulled away for about 20 minutes?" Oso replied to the inquiry, "I can, sir. What's up?" "Julian, I need you to get to Deck 8, Section...16, power junction 87-Beta. Power Conduit 87-Beta 6A-3 needs to have a polaric splitter put on it in series-parrellel to the one before AND after it. That conduit has a fault in its design and make sure that the splitter has a resonant stabilizer and phase discriminator attached." "Got it, sir. Anything else?" TJ couldn't help the smile, "Not at the moment, but that can change. You might wanna get an extra cup of raktajino just in case. Tagra out."

TJ looked Deny in the eye, "If this works out, I'm buying those two, Chief Dawson, K'aa and you a bottle of Romulan Ale."

The tactical officer gave a sharp laugh, letting some of the stress diffuse. "Heh - if this works out, the three of us should pitch in and get *you* a case! Your concept's pretty slick, and if we can get it working without internally damaging the ship, it'll give the Hydrans as much of a surprise as they gave us! I am concerned about Deck 8 though - because it's a habitat level, there's a lot of life-support and utility conduits going through that deck. We can get the bridge to bulkhead Deck 17 off, but Deck 8?" The stocky Indonesian shrugged. "Let's try to anticipate the 'worst case' and nip it in the bud."

"I don't know how Smith would react to a whole case being aboard. I gave her enough of a headache with my barrel of Bloodwine," the hybrid replied, smirking as he did so. He reflected on the Deck 8 Problem for a moment or two. Life-support and Utility connections and what not aside, it was also just below where he was now. If K'aa hated things in the CIC broken, he could only imagine how he would feel about it collapsing into Deck 8, though TJ doubted that outcome...but given the history of this ship, one could never be too certain.

"What if we turn everything off on Deck 8 that is absolutly not required. The labs on Deck 10 could handle whatever Stellar Cartography and thier counterparts on Deck 8 need. No life-support, no lights...restrict the power flow to a minimum. We can hook up resonant stabilizers and phase discriminators to every power junction and tap. That would add another two hours to what we're doing, but it would also cut down on an overload by about seventy-eight percent, if not more."

Deny liked the idea, a broad smile widening on his haggard face. "I like it. Let's load the new parameters into the sim and run it again. We should make the suggestion regardless if the power conduits hold - just to be on the safe side." Darmajava's fingers flew as he entered the new revised scenario into the tactical database. "Alrighty then - we're good to go. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He nodded for Deny to start the sim.

The sim followed the new scenario flawlessly. Deck 17's power conduits still blew, but Deck 8's held. There was the usual overloads and blowouts, but nothing as deadly as the prior sim. "We did it," TJ said at near a whisper.

"YEAHHHOOO! WE DID IT!" Darmajava's delirious outburst was a sharp contrast to Tagra's quiet observation. The yell was accompanied by a hearty laugh and a friendly slap to TJ's back. "Gotta admit, when you first showed up with this idea I thought you'd hit your head in the last battle, but this is poetry, man! This is art!"

"Actually, I broke all my ribs, but close enough. I can't believe it though," TJ just looked at the holotable, eyes wide.

Smiling, the Indonesion went to another workstation and accessed the LCARS display. "Good news - K'aa's on the bridge with the Captain. If you hustle, you could certainly add to the quality of the conversation."

"Ah...no. I think I'll pass. I'm gonna go help Davidson and Oso finish up then head to Shield Control and get any loose ends taken care of." TJ downloaded everything to his PADD and sent a copy to K'aa and Dawson. He thanked Deny for everything and headed out of the CIC. Soon, everything will come together and TJ will see if his gamble will pay off.

Ensign T'Jaden "TJ" Tagra, Engineering Officer, USS Miranda

Deck 39, Main Engineering

Over the last couple weeks, TJ had been focusing on nothing but the shield modifications and now they where heading back to Romulus. Now better time for a full real-life test.

Now since the Old Man was in control, TJ had a refound hope in thier ability to win. That, and the new style ships he eyed when they took position. Strange looking, but considering that they apparently held a massive amount of fighters, he couldn't argue with the logic of its design.

His shield modifications and design had been shared with the rest of the fleet, so his gamble had grown. If it worked, those three words kept him up for hours at a time, at the expence of Jacen's patience.

After the generators where worked on, he, Davidson and Oso filled Deck 8 with all the precautions that TJ and Deny had come up with. Now, Decks 8 and 17 where evacuated due to the threat they posed to the crew. Now, all TJ could do was sit at a console in the upper areas of Engineering while the modifications came on-line. He monitored everything from the oscillations to the computer interfaces between Engineering and the CIC. He didn't doubt that Deny was doing the same upstairs.

Now, as he did not so long ago, he waited. This time, however, TJ hoped that he'd make it through without breaking anything.

? Where the Graves Their Own? ?

By Various NPC's

*****

Tal'Anathar, Romulus

*****

Three weeks ago, Tal'Anathar fell to the Hydran ground offensive.

It was a battle bloodier than expected, where the combined defenses of local Rihannsu Militia and Starfleet Security troops from the 102'nd Tars and the Last Chancers of the USS Thunderchild were not enough to blunt the initial thrust towards the capital. As a trade and transportation hub of the province and an unfortunate roadblock to the administrative heart to the empire, The Battle of Tal'Anathar Ridge became an inevitability.

The first wave of the attackers landed at the ridge of the Tal'Anathar Valley, overlooking the small city and the troops contained therein. It was there that the Hydrans positioned artillery and troops to rain down on the city's defenders, using the valley's lip to great advantage. While the rest of the army pressed on to more deadly opponents near the capital, rearguard units held back Tal'Anathar's defenders. Their defeat was an inevitability.

But the conflict in the valley didn't end there. Sometime during the seige, there was an attempt by the Rihannsu-Federation force to break out of the ring of guns and troops. Being in a valley, the defenders were at a disadvantage, and their only routes of escape were upwards, with no air or orbital support, no chance but their willingness to take appalling casulties. The best route was the main road, where the slope was at its lowest, but where its guns were the strongest. It was decided that a charge with fast transport, Federation Argo's and Hoppers as well as Romulan equivalents, were to dash out and make a run for the main force before it was too late.

A rather poor moment of judgement for the commander that forced the massacre of many good troops, and it was there that The Battle of Tal'Anathar Ridge was borne. The Hydrans needed only to wait, guns trained and locked onto target, adjusting and aiming faster than a vehicle could ever hope, and fire at the advancing troops to stop their lunacy.

What happened next was bloodier than even the conflicts in this very valley that preceeded the great migration, in which factions of the followers of the Talon fought over what was a pristine, virgin planet to make what is now today referred as the Romulan Star Empire.

Atole Tekri knew this ground well, for it was the duty of all children of the empire to know the sacrifices of heroes past to make their stellar spanning superpower. Tal'Anathar was the witness to turning points in Rihannsu history, and without its events there was no empire.

Under personal cloaking suits, her three man team of Tal'Shiar infiltrators were on the periphery of what was left of the historic city to see the results. She saw the wrecks of the war machines, a disparaging number of them Romulan, not enough Hydrans. So too were the dead, the Federation troops lifeless and red, Romulans green and pale, and still not enough Hydrans. The city, once Romulan, was filled with prisoners under the supervision of Hydran troops, its ancient spires and domes either smoking husks or planted with the banner of the Hydra.

She was sickened by the sight. ~ ? Is Tal'Anathar witnessing another turn in history? ? ~ She couldn't help but think as her infiltration team inched closer to the city on their bellies. ~ ? Here, the wars of the past helped define the empire. What am I witnessing today? Is the empire going to end on the same field where it started? ? ~ Her inquisitive mind unsatiated, she watched for Hydran patrols. There were some distant, and it looked like they were busy with prisoners. Atole Tekri signalled in Tal'Shiar silent ops sign language that they were not spotted. When they reached the shadowy shelter of an expansive (and yet untouched by war) Anatharian poplar, the infiltration team climbed up. Its branches were thick with fall leaves. They could hide here without the cloak suits being activated.

She deactivated the cloak suit with a sigh of relief. Though the Tal'Shiar said the suit was safe to wear under normal conditions, nobody was willing to put trust in it, and Atole did swear that it made her teeth vibrate. Her teammates seemed to agree. Their reshifted bodies appeared, and each wore relief on their face.

The third in the group was a younger officer named Rik'u, and he had the ernestness of youth and the strength of a bull. His intellect matched his brawn, but as a professional interrogator under the emergency draft of the Tal'Shiar's active land forces, there wasn't much to his job that needed more than his brain was capable. He was imaginative enough, and for an interrogator he was an honest and likable man.

The first of their group, however, was a man Atole Tekri respected. Arturo Rantar was a seasoned ops member of the Tal'Shiar's rapid response units. His hair was salt and pepper gray, his face seen its fair share of reconstruction from wounds varying from blade to plasma fire. Grizzled as he was, he had a wizened, protective streak with his charges and more than once did he save their lives. Originally assigned to a three man team, the rest of his unit was scattered on other parts of the Empire and cut off from the main planet. As an impromptu measure, he grabbed two eligible Tal'Shiar agents and gave them an emergency draft to join in his black ops operation. As Atole already took her physical and combat training, and experienced in spying on foreign powers, she became the second in the group.

Then they were sent to spy on enemy movements deep in their own territory. The casulty rate of this kind of mission was high, only the Tal'Shiar with their stealth suits could do it. As a further stroke of humour, high command sent Atole, thought of as a human lover, where humans were sent to fight and die.

The Tal'Shiar, she concluded, didn't know her well enough. She gladly took the mission and was yet bothered by the human component. She thought of the Terran species as no different than any other, and certainly not better than Romulans. It was one particular human she loved, but lost forever, and it was their daughter that motivated her to go when she was exhausted, fight when she was afraid.

She thought of Nuhir in the shelters, protected by family retainers.

It was her she fought for.

? Sighting ahead. Five centons, towards the city. ? Arturo whispered to Tekri's ear. The warmth of his breath, though his voice businesslike, was warm and reassuring on her neck. ? Rik'u, the recorder. ?

? Yes sir. ? Rik'u unlimbered a small hand recorder, aiming through a gap in the trees.

Atole was perplexed, but she looked with binoculars at what Arturo was hinting at. Her binoculars increased her view, and she saw well into the city limits.

A gasp escaped her lips. Arturo covered it with his hand.

? Watch. ? He hissed gently.

Her eyes wanted to pry away, but dared on by her nerves and reinforced by Arturo's steady hand, Atole watched.

She saw at the outskirts graves, thousands of them, lined in neat rows unlike the funeral pyres of a Rihannsu masoleum her kind preferred. They were human graves, dug human style, enough for their bodies to not be molested by predators and left buried inside, marked by a peculiar cross or an upturned phaser rifle with a resting helmet.

The odd sight was the humans, lined in rows and watched by Hydran shock troopers, digging more holes with the cross markers. The humans were digging graves. Atole wondered if they belonged to the diggers.

Meanwhile, Romulan civilians were in an opposing pit, digging, ragged with exhaustion under the guns of the Hydrans. Their hole was bigger and longer, and the workers didn't look like combatants. They were civilians trapped behind enemy lines. Soldiers and civilians dug. Children and the old were not even spared. All dug

Were the graves their own?

? Audio. Patch it to our suits. ? Arturo ordered.

? Aye, sir. ? Rik'u

Audio came in through Atole's earpiece. From a distance it crackled and squelched, but she heard the shovels plunge into and gouge out chunks of earth, and thud into their piles. She could even hear the ragged breathing of the humans as they dug graves. Feet shuffled in, and rifles clattered as Hydrans lined up near the graves. Despondent human faces look at their captives with forlorn hope and disdain, looking up from their shallow graves at pointed weapon.

The Hydrans barked and hissed in their garbled language. Through her translator she heard orders for the humans to stand up in front of their holes. The humans obeyed, flashes of hate in their eyes, exhaustion muting their feelings.

? Keep recording. ? Arturo whispered.

Atole interjected, ? Sir, should we not help them. It is only a small patrol. We can take them. ?

? Quiet. ? Arturo stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, ? Watch. ?

On her audio feed, Atole heard the Hydran officer bark and order. The civilans stopped digging and lined themselves up to their hole. Hydran soldiers started to take position in front of the prisoners, checking the settings of their rifles and aiming them at the throng of prisoners.

Atole dreaded the sight, and begged to unseen gods for the Hydrans to stop.

One of the Federation officers, a commander with black hair, a human from the look of him, took two steps towards the Hydrans, bringing with it every rifle from their squad aimed straight for him. Bold and unafraid, though haunted by the death he saw, the officer looked defiantly at his enemy. His chin high in the air, he began to sing.

? What the devil is that noise. ? Rik'u said offhandedly, ? I swear, the man is no opera singer. ?

Atole answered, ? It is the Federation Anthem. ?

Arturo breathed, ? Good. This is what I want. Keep recording. ?

? But sir. ? Atole said.

? No! ? Arturo snapped, his patience strained, ? Watch. You'll see. ?

? No... ? Atole heard herself escape.

She lost her concentration on what she was to say while she heard the commander sing. She was unfamiliar with the words, and in their alien tongue sounded too blunt and plodding to be eloquent. But in the sight of a massacre, the last of his group standing in front of their graves, he sang it as if it was a litany, a prayer to heaven for deliverance, his final act of defiance. He sang about the love of his home, his ideals, the life he led, his ideaologies being his last weapon, pointed at the listening Hydrans like a gleaming spear.

An uncaring mass of disruptor beams cut short the anthem. The Hydrans, having enough of the last act of defiance, shot the commanding officer down. His chest sprouting a searing energy wound, his body slumped over and tumbled into the grave. The rest of his comrades followed, the Hydrans energy weapons lancing through the human's bodies. Their eyes wide with fear, the officers stood in parade ground, ramrod straightness, accepting the end.

All died in the span of ten seconds, and as flippantly as he gave the order, the Hydran officer waved over an industrial excavator, and the graves were smoothed over with dirt. The civilians at the other mass grave, looking on with terror at their captors, huddled close and didn't move away. Children huddled close to their mothers, the wounded Romulan soldiers held up by their healthier comrades, old men and young alike acting as a shield for the weaker members, looked at their captors with contempt.

The Hydran officer, with one wave, cut them all down with phaser fire. They were more numerous, and their deaths took longer, but their dicipline and bravery were no different than the stoic Federation officers. The group shrank as bodies crumpled, then the group became no more. All were dead from the Hydran's withering disruptor fire. None could survive.

The Hydran's captured excavator pushed to bodies into the mass grave and covered it over. Signalling that the operation was over, the Hydran officer, waved for his patrol to leave the mass graves alone.

All that time, Tekri did not move. She was paralyzed by the sight of so many of her countrymen, dead by a butcher's act. Her green blood boiled to a hellish simmer, until she thought the only way to cool her temperment was to take her disruptor rifle and shoot each one of the patrol dead! The dead deseved better treatment than this, she reasoned to herself, the dead did not deserve to die without a chance.

Brave soldiers. Women. Children. Easily it could have been her family, her daughter, her lover.

Her.

The butcher had to answer for his acts.

? Atole. ? Arturo snapped Tekri out of her train of thought. Even at the edge of insubordination, Arturo showed incredible patience and calm. With a mention of her name, said in his sagelike calm, stopped her impetuous actions.

She saw what she was doing. Still angered, she said, ? I am sorry, Sir. ?

He chuckled slightly, an act that brought with it a flash of anger in Tekri's throat, but swallowed when she heard the meaning behind the mirth. ? Atole, you want to go out there and avenge the fallen like a good Romulan centurion. I cannot falt you for that. We serve the people. When the people are hurt, we must save them. Your duty and your sense of honour compel you to do this. For that I am glad. ?

Rik'u scoffed, ? Mine doesn't. The civilians and soldiers did not fight well and the rest were just humans. ?

? That's because you're a fool, Rik'u, and that is why you man the recorder. ? Arturo silenced the third of the group. The hulking Rik'u shut up, leaving that confrontation wounded, and Arturo's mood yet unblighted, ? Besides, the humans held themselves well in death. In their own way, they fight to the end. A hateful stare, an anthem, trying their best to be unafraid. Their last actions still fight the Hydrans. It must make them mad. So, I must commend the humans for a brave death. In their own alien way, they acted nobly. ? He directed to Atole, ? Surely, being around humans, this comes as no surprise. ?

Atole gasped, ? Being around humans, you'll know that everything they do surprises me. You can never figure them out. ?

Arturo took her comment as a jest. ? Young one, too true. ? He said with a pat on her shoulder, ? And did you see our people? ?

Atole answered, ? I did. They died needlessly. ?

? Were you not paying attention? ? Arturo said more seriously, ? They were martyrs when presented right. Why do you think we stayed behind and recorded this instead of freeing them from this execution? Even if we could save them, what good would it do? We cannot escort them behind enemy lines, even the strongest were weary and would be hunted down by Hydran patrols easily. But in their deaths we have a more powerful weapon. Think about it, Atole. Tell me, how can this be used in our advantage? ?

Atole had to think a moment, but reflecting on it, she saw what Arturo was trying to point out all along. Their deaths, inevitable as they were, would anger the Romulans and the Federation. This treatment of their solders and the civilians would not be ignored, and would give the allies the edge against their enemy. Soldiers fought harder when their homes were destroyed, took revenge when their kin were dead, pushed harder to rescue when the innocent were in danger.

Her realization came to her, sickeningly cold. Arturo was right, and she wanted to feel guilty, but could not.

? We should get closer. ? Atole suggested, reactivating her cloaking suit, ? And get some pictures. ?

Arturo nodded, ? Ours or theirs first? ?

Atole said, ? Ours. Terrans tend to be more outraged by civilian casulties. ?

She saw Arturo nod his approval before being enveloped by the cloaking field.

"Catchup"

(12 days after the fleet withdraws - Occurs before "Snapped" and "A Kept Woman"))

Second Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies XO
Furies 188th Detachment, USS Galaxy

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
CO - Second Platoon
Furies 188th Detachment, USS Galaxy

With

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG/Security, USS Galaxy

****

ch'Rihan

****