"Shangri-La"

Colonel For'kel Arvelion- SFMC
Commanding Officer
188th Furies Detachment

Chief Petty Officer Berilyn Suum-Arvelion
Transporter Chief
USS Galaxy

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

While he had been on the doomed space station, For'kel hadn't afforded himself the opportunity to think things over. It was an unsaid pact between him and Berilyn, to concentrate on their respective duties rather than allow themselves to be distracted by the thought that the dearest loved one, the one they'd volunteered and vowed to share their lives and souls with, was in harms way. It worked some times better than it did others, but always in the back of one's mind there was that realization... that the last time you saw your lover and spouse could very well be the last.

Fortunately the action on Deep Space 5 had been fast paced. They got in, rescued the refugees, and got out. In a way, he was grateful the order hadn't been given to take the station, but that was on a purely personal and somewhat greedy level, because it allowed him to get back here. Tactically and strategically he still believed it the wrong call, and in the end that would only make the war last longer, cost more lives, so on and so forth.

It took a few hours to organize things in Marine Country. Bunks were being set up to serve the surplus personnel and civilians brought on from the station, and security was still an issue. The Colonel had seen to the posting of guards, the establishment of care teams to tend to the ambulatory, while medics and nurses moved the more severely injured to the better equipped facilities of the Galaxy's sickbay. Contact information for next of kin of those who survived had to be gathered, meals prepared and dispensed, hygiene services provided and weapons and gear stowed. (Rifles and side arms were kept at the ready for obvious reasons.) New clothing and bedding had to be replicated and provided, and a head count taken. It was a lot of work to see to, and on top of it all there were letters he needed to write for roughly three-dozen Marines lost in the course of the rescue. Eventually however, things had settled down.

"Colonel." Major Shaw walked up, PADD in hand. "My final report for you, sir."

He and Shaw had talked about transfers pretty much since they arrived on the Galaxy. His interest was in chasing that damnable engineer he met on the Miranda, who had been called back to Earth for service at the embassy there to the Federation. It would mean one of his most trusted crewmates and his XO would be leaving his side after over a decade of service. They'd been together for... damn he didn't even remember how long, simply that fate had apparently deemed it long enough. "Are you sure this is what you want, Pete?"

The Betazoid Marine nodded. "She is, Fork."

Arvelion smiled. He knew that look, that sparkle in Pete's eyes whenever he saw her. It was the same exact look that he exchanged with Berilyn even today. There wasn't any particular reason to force Pete to stay, not that he could do that to the man anyway. Besides, the Colonel had a romantic side, as an idealist and a husband he certainly understood that some things were simply meant to be. "You're a hell of a Marine Major. It's going to be impossible to find a replacement, but I do suppose 'someone' should know what they're talking about when they teach combat skills to those cadets at the Academy."

Shaw smirked. "It's in the best interests of the Corps, sir." Winning an instructorship at Starfleet Academy was no small feat. It signified you'd reached the pinnacle of your career, and were among the most elite in an already elite group of individuals. Definitely a place Pete belonged.

"All right then." The Stagnorian signed off on the report, and the transfer orders, before handing the PADD back and taking the man's arm. "Stow your gear and get all your things together. If you ever change your mind, I expect to be the first to know."

"Semper Fidelis, sir." Shaw nodded, before giving his boss a slap on the back. "It's been a pleasure serving with you."

"Likewise." There was no truly good way of saying goodbye, and that meant there was no real reason to carry out a long and contrived exchange. Some things just couldn't be stopped, and chief among them was love. Speaking of... "Captain Maivia, you're in charge down here until shift change. Two platoons should be on duty for six hours each cycle to look after these people and provide sentries."

He didn't really hear the Capellan's response, but knew what it would be. It didn't really matter anyway, as he was determined that tonight, the war would remain outside the doors. He had accumulated quite a bit of leave and liberty time, and intended on using some of it.

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

Wow!

Who knew that the long lost, legendary paradise of Shangri-La would be found, let alone that it would be located entirety within the area of their bedroom?

Even that description seemed woefully inadequate when being embroiled in the fires of such passion, but Berilyn had long ago given up any attempt to try and qualify her relationship with her husband in words. The only two who would ever need to understand after all, were there. Besides, such bliss tended to come at the sacrifice of higher brain functions, such as language or deep thoughts.

This was hardly their first time... Koren was testament to that, and every instance such as this shared with someone you loved, 'truly' loved, was bound to be wonderful... but anyone who'd been married longer than a few months could tell you that there were times when it was wonderful, and then there were times where, as Crewman Talsso would so crudely put it, that it was 'speck-Fucking-tacular'! Although time had come at a premium between them, especially as of late, love was certainly never lacking in their relationship. Of course there were other ways of expressing it... and despite Koren's arrival, their transfer off of the Miranda (following a rather emotionally draining instance with Era which lead to a bit of a falling out between them), settling in on the Galaxy and the extremely long nights with the Marines training, he always seemed to find a way to make a minute or two for them. It was incredibly sweet really, to be so adored. Be it a shy attempt at a love letter, a specially prepared dinner, or even just leaning on the sofa and listening to some of the classical musical forms, every moment with him was wonderful.

She had no clue what prompted this particular explosion of passion that had erupted between them practically the moment they met up after the ordeal of Deep Space Five and had been running ever since... nor did she really care at this particular moment. It might have been the alleviation of the pent up stress she felt following the whole incident with Era and Koren, or it could have been whatever pent up stress he brought with him from the transfer, retraining of the Marines, her limited withdrawal following what happened with Era, and what happened on Deep Space Five... or it could simply have been hormonal, emotional, physical... she just didn't know what conspired to make this time so special. Whatever it was though, whatever they felt, it sure as hell felt right!

She had no clue as to how much time precisely had passed... minutes bled into hours, and hours reached almost a day entire. They hadn't even bothered stopping to eat, and had left the care of Koren to Sasha, the Bajoran medic who loved children was all too happy to care for the baby. As soon as he was dropped off, they trotted in... half undressed before even finding the mattress. Night gave way to day, and by now they were well into a new night. The exhaustion was almost too much to bear, but the contentment, the feeling of an incredibly profound desire being aroused, pushed them on. Berilyn was a very well read woman by any means of comparison, especially so for an enlistee. She knew well her husband's culture framed marriage in the metaphor of the greatest of all battles... ironic for a society that had been free of warfare until space flight. The ancient Terran battle of Marathon was certainly seeming like an apt description of the night. She couldn't help but wonder which one of them would surrender first to weariness, knowing she was most definitely on the cusp herself.

Trill mythology focused on the water. The famous purple oceans of the Trill homeworld leant themselves to iconic story-telling marvelously. It emphasized the ebb and flow of all events, like the tide washing ashore... or in this instance the movement of one body against another. Two very different takes on the same basic concept, and although diametrically opposed, exceedingly complimentary.

Her thoughts became as scattered as their articles of clothing when another ripple of electrifying tantalization cut through her. It left her gasping, breathless and speechless save for the one name on the tip of her tongue. "For'kel?" How weakly his name came out, like a whisper in the wind, surprised even her.

She felt his hands follow from her legs... gliding effortlessly over the trail of spots that lead over the outside of her thighs and waist, before finding the tips of her fingers and interlacing with them. Her head was swimming, her body caught in a tempest of sensations induced by every touch, every caress, every hot and humid kiss unleashed. She hadn't noticed the way he slowly raised her arms above her head, setting them down against the pillows in a tender pin. It was easy enough to maintain with one arm, given how tired she was... and the profound lack of will to actually try to break it. An earthquake ran through her when she felt his breath on her neck, inches from her ear.

"Shhhh."

In the darkness, there was an unexplainable quality to her husband... alien and yet so very familiar. It was a quality he'd displayed far too little as of late... to the point that she found it difficult to recall the last time she was so struck. Effort had strained his voice, giving it a different tone all together, and she couldn't help but to find an exotic thrill in it. She closed her eyes, a breath catching in her throat as she nodded, the sweet sensations of surrender enhanced by the feeling of strong hands against her. True to her nature however, she didn't intend on giving up easily.

Summoning what strength she could, she launched herself forward, getting close enough to brush the base of his neck with her lips, before gravity, the physical hold on her, and her husbands weight conspired to push her back to the mattress once more. She sank into the mattress top, the light whimpering sound she conceded to fate. She wanted nothing more, and nothing less, than him. Berilyn Suum-Arvelion had always been the 'most' beautiful of all sentient creatures in For'kel's eyes. It was a beauty that went well beyond her considerably pleasing aesthetic appearance. She had a formidable spirit with an indomitable will, unyielding passion for her beliefs, and an incredibly compassionate soul which sought nothing more, he was convinced, than to love. She was by no means a pacifist, but certainly believed that peace always deserved a chance. So driven by this belief was she, that he was convinced she'd be more than willing to give her life for another's if that was all that was at stake. For some reason, he couldn't figure it out, that was one of her most admirable qualities. She was the mother of his son, the face he awoke to every morning, and the last thing he was fortunate enough to set his eyes upon at night. She had a melodic, singer's voice and a laugh that struck chords as distinct, and majestic, as church bells. She had a smile bright enough that the very stars they traveled among were put to shame by it's brilliance, and an uncanny ability to make him smile when it was the last thing he felt like doing. She provided an adventure every time she got mad, and sometimes became so worked up that you couldn't help but laugh. She was an intellectual if one could ever said to be such, but opted instead to maintain a simple rating aboard a starship, working one of the most complicated and undervalued system aboard. Must have been a career choice mimicking life, he figured. Her lips were as soft and inviting as a fresh-water natural spa, and she exuded a feeling of the most unbelievable serenity. Blonde hair, green eyes, and beautifully crafted features conspired to provide an intensely beautiful facade to what was an indescribable treasure of a soul. Yes, he might have been repeating himself by thinking so, but damn it he was a little distracted. Her porcelain skin and statuesque body prompted a recall of memories, all very happy. The first time they saw each other, their first date and how childish that seemed to go, their first kiss and the horrid 'sucking' sound that gave away mutual inexperience, their first 'time' like now, the first time they moved in together, their first son... their love was the product of a great many firsts to be sure, and in his mind no stronger proof of a force greater than the physical realm could ever be provided. They were significantly different people, from two very different backgrounds and places... indeed, such an encounter could not have been simple coincidence. Above it all, she was all the proof he needed to be reminded that no matter how costly the battle, there were some things worth fighting, and dying, for. Some things were just meant to be.

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

At some point, who knew when it was, they'd fallen asleep. Berilyn knew this, because she awoke to find herself still comfortably tucked into his arms, and his nose nuzzling the nape of her neck. She took a deep breath, happy to bathe in the moment, if only for a moment, before she expertly went about the task of slipping out of his grasp 'without' disturbing him... the latter being where a certain amount of light-stepping and dancer-like flexibility came into play.

Normally she would be all too happy to throw on one of any of her slip gowns and simply walk out to see how Koren was doing. She was in far too comfortable a mood to do so 'just' yet though, besides there was a list of 'updates' that had come from their volunteer babysitter over the course of their prolonged... ahem... evening, but none of them expressed any immediacy. Most of them were commentaries about how 'cute' or 'well behaved' he was, as if a mother could forget.

So instead of heading out first thing in the... umm... well no, it wasn't quite 'after' noon yet now, was it? In either case, rather than immediately begin moving, she elected to bask a couple of minutes, and maybe enjoy a glass of wine... or champagne. Better yet, that drink For'kel had gotten her to try the picnic they had right before coming aboard! What was it called agai... oh, Lurenian Rose Champagne! Yup, that was it!

First thing was first though, she needed something to wear. The door to the bedroom closed slid open with a hushed hiss, and on her side (read three-quarters) of the closet, she began thumbing through her bed wear. She had absolutely no intention of putting on pink slippers and a flannel nightgown, so that was out immediately. She thumbed through her other options, slip-ons in several colors, a couple of gowns and robes of all kinds of origins... she kept going until she came to one of For'kel's (and likewise one of her) favorite things to wear.

It was rather ironic that given the wide array of lingerie available to her that she'd accumulated over the past year or two, that she went with a baseball jersey. It was an all white, button down shirt that was fairly long for a shirt, and fairly short for a dress, stopping on the northern part of her thighs on the sides, and the hem dropping only slightly more elsewhere. On the jersey itself, in bright red letters read 'Marvels', the colors of a newly established baseball team, the Martian Marvels. Thin red lines adorned the short sleeves as well, and although she had no clue 'who' number seven was (the jersey was nameless), she felt it best typified how lucky she'd been. Matching scarlet underwear, and she was ready to enjoy the crimson colored drink.

"Computer, one glass of Lurenian Rose Champagne." As it shimmered, she thought it best to provide some kind of ambiance. "Play selection Bery one, track one, twenty percent volume."

As the drink fizzled into existence, the sound of Lee Anne Rhymes' "Nothin' Bout Love Makes Sense' played in the background. She found herself eventually gripped in the throws of nearly delirious happiness, dancing without a partner to the song, glass in hand. Everyone needed a break from 'life' every now and again. It was truly a great day to be alive.

OOC - occurs concurrently with the DS5 rescue operation.

"Third movement in D"
'Ancient Melody' Part 5

Lieutenant Miramon Terrik
Counseling Officer/Temporary Navigation Officer

Lieutenant Jarajen "Quattro" Quaaliu
CAG

Lieutenant JG Victor Krieghoff
Security Second

Lieutenant JG Valentina "Eve" Kyznetsova
Intelligence Officer - Technical Operations Mission Specialist

Ensign John C. Richardson Ph.D.
Diplomatic Officer/Mission Security

Ensign Lali Indrakshi
Intelligence Officer (Oded)

Ensign Goddard
Intelligence Officer

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

Lali turned her head toward Valentina. "You have to listen to this transmission. We can't wait until it gets to the rear intelligence post and someone hears it. You just have to!"

A short corridor carved into the rock led to the operational section of the hidden listening post. The narrow cavern walls were the opposite of what lay within - a circular hall equipped with the state of the art signal interception technology. Screens and computer consoles covered the walls almost completely, and six radiant pillars ascended four meters from the floor, the gelpacks within storing, analyzing, decrypting and retransmitting an incredible wealth of information.

Lali approached the nearest pillar, detached an earpiece from it, and offered it to Valentina. As the mission specialist placed the tiny piece in her ear, Lali quickly configured the pillar to relay the transmissions from the channel she listened to earlier.

It was mere luck on her side - she got bored while Valentina pursued the more technical parts of the reconfiguration, and to pass the time sat down on one of the local data analysis posts and began to cruise through the various channels, like a teen with a nervous finger on her holovid's remote. Private chats, business conversations, the laconic exchange of information between shuttles passing by - the communications intercepted by the station were an endless ocean of words.

And by complete coincidence, her ears caught three, very distinct words, translated in real-time from Hydran.

Deep, Space, and Five.

Valentina got back down to work, the reason they were here, while listening to the transmission at the same time. Mental compartmentalization was a wonderful trick sometimes. The message was intriguing, and she knew that the sooner it got back, the better. {Glory and Valediction En route to DS5. Tier 2 and 3 targets selected. Fleets to engage according to Prophesy and Revelation.} Tagging it with a flag specifically keyed for LT Bental, she got back to work.

With the wing of Hydran fighters progressing steadily closer at the extreme range of his fighter's sensors, Jarajen knew that it was only a matter of time before the Hydrans picked up the Federation craft. The stealth-technology was good, but the wing's course would bring them perilously close to their location. Again, the channel was opened to Valentina.

[Lieutenant.]

Valentina sighed as she continued her work. "What is it Sir? I don't mean to be rude but we're kind of busy here as well. I take it the Hydrans are still closing." It wasn't a question so much as a statement - he wouldn't call otherwise.

[This one will try to purchase the mission time], the Nassari said through gritted teeth as he powered up the starfighter's warp drive. [The asteroid field has given this one inspiration, and will use it to distract the Hydran-maj wing approaching. Understand, there is no chance in defeating them - only the possibility of granting time.]

"Have they showed signs of detecting us yet?"

[This one thinks not.]

"The fighters are on the same course and heading, their weapons and defenses are still in the same posture as when we noted them. My gut tells me they haven't seen us." Val sighed, stopping her work for a scant few seconds as she turned her full attentions to this problem. "Right now we've got another problem, just as big. Two fleets are en route to DS5, with intentions to strike deeper into Federation territory. One, we need to get this information out towards our people ASAP. Two, some here think it'd be a good idea to try and divert them. Somehow."

As she continued the cyborg returned to work on the systems, inputting key algorithms and lines of code. "Frankly I don't have the time nor expertise to pull off such a scheme, so survival of our crew is paramount, second is the survival of this station. I know you're the overall authority, but as mission specialist I wish to inform you that it's my recommendation that we take no action until we are positive they have seen us. My recommendation, Sir, is that you power down your warp drive as that will certainly show up on their sensors. I can hear it's subsonic frequencies over the com."

[Agreed, Lieutenant. Warp drive is now offline]. Jarajen felt icy sweat slide down his spine as he powered down all key systems. Should the Hydran wing detect their group they would have only seconds to flee... or die. [This one has boosted passive sensor output and will monitor the foe, but keep in mind out discussion on disengagement - should the wing change course we must evacuate immediately. No debate.]

"I hadn't planned on debating that one, Lieutenant. I want us gone as soon as physically possible," Miramon observed, seriousness simply dripping from his voice. "Make sure you're in a position to reactivate your engines in the shortest amount of time, because if we have got to go, we'll be looking for a fast exit, and I don't want you trailing behind. Got it?"

[The *Counselor* should not have any worries about this *pilot*], Jarajen said quietly over the comm as his cockpit went dark. [He should focus more on practicing his hobby, and making certain the runabout is ready to depart. Quaaliu out.]

The flight of Hydran fighters crept nearer and nearer to the listening post and the small craft floating outside. The life signs within were safe from detection, but the fighter and runabout were another matter. Even with their systems on stand-by and the sensor stealthing systems in place, there was always a chance, and if someone got too close it was almost a foregone conclusion they would be seen. Within the cockpit of the lead Hydran, the pilot watched as a pair of low-energy blips showed up on his sensor display. It happened every so often, but not here, not in this section of the asteroid field. Her beaks chittered, then she shook her head and made a note of the position of the blips, signaling her flight to continue their course. Once out of sensor range they would come back around and lie in wait. If they were real, she would pounce. If they were another sensor ghost, at least later flights would be aware and wouldn't go wasting ordinance on wild monkey chases.

~~~~~~~~Back inside the Barracks~~~~~~~~

Victor finished working on the second of the teams 'uninvited guests' and reached for the medical kit's abbreviated med-scanner. Not as effective as a full medical tricorder, but better than nothing, they were included in all field kits of this size or larger. Running it over the pair, he checked the readings and nodded, satisfied that there was nothing else to do. Nothing medically-speaking, anyway.

Packing the kit away, he moved to the doorway that led further into the listening post, positioning himself so that he could watch the two. He had his tricorder set to monitor them and signal him if they started to return to consciousness, but it was always better to back up that sort of thing. Neither of the two had anything on them except their clothing - he'd long since removed anything but that and packed it away for someone with more analysis experience to look at - but, if he was being conservative, that only left several hundred other ways they might be dangerous.

If he'd had his way, he would have drugged the pair, or used a tricorder to match their brains' sleep cycle patterns and run an identical current through them, or simply stunned them repeatedly to keep them out until the team returned to Galaxy, thus alleviating any threat the pair posed to the team. He hadn't done any of those things on the chance that they might know something that Intelligence would want to know - for example, how they'd learned of the listening post and gotten into it - or in the event that they knew something that would assist in increasing the Chance of Mission Success. On the other hand, in the unpleasant event that the team was stranded here, he did know who was going to be eliminated first in the interests of stretching life support and supplies.

Speaking of spending time here.... "Is there a time estimate, Lieutenant?" he called down the corridor. "I'll need to know in advance so arrangements can be made for the two prisoners."

"Another hour," Valentina called back. "The appropriate codes are in place, the system is going through the install and reboot procedures, which include a Level 1 diagnostic. Once all the lights in here are green, we're clear to leave." Moments later Valentina and Lali emerged from the Core, the rest of the time spent would be for waiting to see if anything went wrong. "Now, we've monitored a transmission headed to DS5. There are two Hydran fleets on the way, and Ensign Indrakshi feels we should do something about it. As diverting two entire fleets isn't something I'm familiar with, and I don't believe we're equipped to do such a task, I'm opening the floor. We have one hour to debate and put a plan into action. If we can't get it to work by the time we're due to depart, we scrub it and hope we have a higher top speed than the fleets."

Victor considered that for a few minutes. He wasn't an expert at many things, but he did know about laying false trails. "Is there any way to insert Federation traffic for them to intercept? Or sensor feeds? Say, of a fleet of ships they'd consider dangerous like a Federation Task Force or a fleet of cloaked Romulan vessels moving into Hydran space?"

Valentina shook her head. "The only transmitter these posts have installed is keyed specifically for broadcasting to the designated receiver station. It would take two more cycles of reprogramming to get it reconfigured for the deception and then reconfigured AGAIN to transmit back to where we need it to go."

"Impractical, then," the Security officer agreed. "Can we code a warning into the outgoing feed to whoever is picking these messages up and let them pass along the warning?"

The cyborg nodded. "The message has been flagged with a 'priority - Urgent!' codifier, it'll be the first thing any of our people will even see."

"I'm not certain what else there is that we can do, then," Victor replied, checking on his prisoners again; one never knew when someone would come to and do something unfortunate. "Even if we were capable of physically engaging them," he added dryly, "two fleets is a bit much, even for me."

[This one has a suggestion], Quattro said at last, breaking the silence of his watch.

"Fire away," Victor suggested. "Figuratively speaking, of course."

[Over Romulus, the Hydran-maj followed the lead of a creature they held to be divine], Jarajen recalled reviewing tactical data from the battle when he was at the Saturn station. [Intercepted comm traffic suggests the Hydran-maj were divided as to how much reverence the leviathan demanded. We know that the starbeast created very low, resounding subspace frequencies - could we not make such echoes by reflecting a signal off the nebula cluster seventy light-years coreward? If we cannot divert all the Hydran-maj, perhaps we can hold the interest of the more pious ones... the confusion alone could possibly slow their progress.]

"That's not bad as ideas go," Victor mused. "We've got the same problems with transmission though... unless we can use the runabout's comm suite to broadcast the signal. That's a bit far out on the technical side for me, though - but maybe not for our more technically-oriented teammates. What about it, Lieutenants? Ensigns?"

Valentina finally shook her head. "We don't have the technical capabilities to pull any of these off. The best we can hope for is LT Bental having the foresight to know whom to send the information to get the best results. In the mean time, the updates are almost done. Lieutenant Krieghoff, please see our guests to the runabout. Ensign Indrakshi and I will remain behind to oversee the final stages, and then we'll beam out and depart." With that Valentina turned around and headed back into the core, confident everyone else would do what needed to be done.

~~~~~~~~20 minutes later~~~~~~~~

The Order of Magnificent Deliverence held their places in Hydran society jealously. Refining spacefighter traditions when humanity was just beginning to harness the winds of their planet with canvass for wooden ships, the Order had centuries of service and commitment to duty behind them - a glorious history that recent events in quadrant wars had tarnished. Nyrek Jshaai was determined to maintain the honorifics of her Sisterhood... even during patrols. The wing from the Shield of Resolution streaked through what was formerly Federation space in an orderly, precicely practiced formation developed over a thousand years ago.

The Hydran wing commander cursed as her display light up like a Gropbl's Gleep! Blorping and Purbling out commands over her fighter's com frequency, she engaged her impulse engines at full, twisting and weaving around the asteroids. ~Federation!~ There was no doubt in her mind, the runabout confirmed it. They had been observing for who knew how long!! Curse her fellow flight leaders! They reported no activity, and many of them were so complacent they never logged the occasional sensor ghosts they ALL ran into!!!! //We have the advantage my sisters! The minefield will not hamper us, while the Monkeys have to be careful. Engage at will!.//

Entering into the minefield the Hydrans flew dangerously close to the warheads, heedless of caution for the IFF transponders would ensure their safety. What they didn't count on was Quattro.

The Nassari had brought his starfighter in fast, even through the minefield and brought up his first target. The Hydran starfighters were small and sleek, making difficult targets at the best of times, but so far Quattro wasn't aiming at the fighters - rather the large, photon mines they chose to fly close to.

A mine exploded near the trailing Hydran fighter, ripping up it's fuselage in an explosion meant to damage a capitol ship, destroying the fighter. Quattro came to full impulse behind the Hydrans, taking potshots at the mines, and not the fighters themselves. Meanwhile Eve sat at the station in the aft compartment of the Runabout, Victor nearby. She had plugged into the vessel through an ODN line and was directing the fire control's targeting of the craft's single aft phaser strip. Precision was needed, and her mind was faster than the computer. Quality AND quantity. A second fighter was taken out as its pilot panicked, banking away too hard and ramming straight into another mine.

Of course, one of the major difficulties of fighting defensively in combat was that you had to work hard to hit the other guy while simultaneously not getting hit yourself; and Miramon was doing everything possible to ensure that the latter didn't happen. He wasn't too concerned about firing on the Hydrans - the mines were doing that job, and it was what Quattro had been assigned to the mission for, so as far as the Bajoran was concerned, simply outrunning the Hydrans was far more important than outgunning them.

Right now, he was on a similar tack to Eve - sure, he could fly the ship using the computer-adjusted controls, but he'd always preferred to fly manually, because he could use a control yoke to perform more precise and gut-wrenching maneuvers (thank the Prophets for Inertial Dampening!) than he'd have been able to using the standard co-ordinate and velocity input the computer generally required.

"Everyone okay back there?" he called back into the rear compartment from the cockpit. His usual philosophy was very much silence while flying, but for the moment, he was more concerned about his passengers. The dampeners could only do so much to preserve the contents of one's stomach.

"Good enough," Victor replied as he frowned at readouts in front of him. "But before we go shooting up the landscape any further, has anyone considered that we're making a great big sign that 'Someone Was Here' for the Triad intelligence analysts to spot? A bit counterproductive to keeping the relay point a secret, isn't it?"

Valentina smirked as she directed another shot with the aft phaser strip, intending more to keep the pursuing fighters dodging more than they were shooting. "Well, us being caught out by their fighters is a big sign saying we were here as well, wouldn't you agree Lieutenant?"

Another Hydran was damaged by an exploding mine, peeling off to lick its wounds. "The hope is that they will think we were it and won't scour the area in EVA suits."

"Better than no plan at all," Victor conceded.

Quattro had kept the debate on the runabout open on his comm, but had no opportunity to engage in the conversation. Five Hydran fighters were now three, and they had learned from the events of the last ten minutes. The smaller fighters were keeping their distance from the mines, and while two were alternating in keeping the Nassari occupied the other was harrassing the runabout with cobalt-blue fusion beams.

Despite his dislike for the Bajoran's attitude and chosen profession, he had to admire the Counselor's abilities as a flier. ~Such a waste~, he mused as he performed a corkscrew immelman to stave off the Hydran on is aft. The manoeuvre succeeded in placing his fighter behind his adversaries. Still, while opening fire with his phasers, he knew that at close range the Hydrans still had the advantage in terms of firepower, numbers, and manoeuverability.

[Lieutenant Terrick, the minefield has served its purpose. The Counselor must plot a course on the 'zed' axis and go to warp immediately. This one can occupy the Hydran-maj for enough time.]

"Copy that, Lieutenant!" Miramon called over the comm system, although he felt his reply was a little more exuberant than usual, simply because he was trying desperately to retain his concentration in a situation where there were an awful lot of variables to keep in mind. The runabout was just about coming clear of the minefield, which meant that they could easily plot an appropriate warp jump and get the heck out of there. Of course, he'd already set an appropriate jump in the ship's computer, making sure that they took a somewhat circuitous route so as to prevent them being followed by the Hydran ships all the way back to the Galaxy.

"Just don't any stupid risks, Quaaliu," he said sincerely. "We can get clear, but make sure you can as well. I don't want to have to come back here to retrieve your body. Rendevous with us back at the Galaxy."

Disengaging from the aft compartment consol Valentina moved forward. "Lieutenant Terrick, as soon as we're clear, punch it. Quatro can take well enough care of himself."

Scant moments later, the Runabout flashed off into the distance.

OOC: For those of you that are new to the sim...Faylin McAlister is a shape shifter.

"All I Know"

Faylin McAlister
Civy

Lt. JG. Ophelia Zamora
JAG - USS Galaxy

Lt. Alex Rodriguez
Security - Tuscany Outpost

Location: Tuscany

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

Inserting the card key in the lock, she waited a minute to gain entrance into the hotel room on the fifth floor of the Hyat that rested on the outskirts of the Tuscany outpost. As a civilian, she had to pay for everything, something that she had grown accustomed to not doing since her time in the Fleet. Stepping into the small room, she smirked as she glanced at the 'modern' decor. The Queen sized bed rested against the back wall under the usual gaudy attempt at a painting of wild flowers in a field. Fortunately, the woman would not be here long enough to enjoy it's discreet attempt at peace.

Slinging the black case on the mattress, Faylin sat heavily down beside it, drawing a long breath that resulted in an abrupt sigh. Weaving her fingers in with each other, she bent her wrists back, resulting in a cracking that would give most a shiver. She took a second, scratched the tip of her nose with her index finger and reached over unclasping the lock on the case.

Her plan was executed...at least the planning of it was. The actual 'doing' would come in thirty minutes....when...according to the duty roster...her target would be found sipping a Corona in his personal quarters. She would give him the pleasure of that last drop of alcohol before....well....she did her job.

Extracting the necessary equipment, she concealed the phaser under her shirt on her right side, and the ancient gun with silencer on her left side. The woman slid a few orbs into her pants pocket, permitting a small smile to play on her lips as she did so. Straightening her shirt with a ritualistic tug, McAlister lastly peeled back a small clear sticker and placed it on her right index finger. She left the hotel room exactly as she found it, except for the case that slept on the mattress.

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

Location: Alex Rodriguez Personal Quarters (Lt. JG. Ophelia Zamora's Ex Husband)

The home of the security officer was just like every other cookie cutter Starfleet outpost housing. She stepped up to the chime, rang it, and quickly flipped her long black hair over her shoulder.

It had been an overly long, dramatic shift. All the man had wanted was to be left alone. How ironic he thought as he grumbled and stood from his slouching position on the couch. Scratching the hair on his chest with his right hand, his left grabbed the beverage as he made his way to the door. He would get rid of who ever it was...so he could concentrate on the Universal Football game finals between the Klingon Titans and the Earth Eradicators.

Flexing her wrist, the woman waited until the door slowly started to open. Within a matter of a second, she was standing in front of him with a sly look on her face.

"Ophe............"

"Yeah." She spat as her open palm flashed up and hit him with force underneath his nose.

His dark eyes grew instantly wide as a howl of pain escaped his vocal cords and cut through the air. She halted her assault for long enough to press her index finger against his index finger on his left hand for but a mere second.

"What are you????' He grasped before he felt himself being stunned stupid by a weapon he knew all to well. Falling to the hard floor, he gave her a look of sheer wonderment.

"Shutup." She hissed. Slipping two black orbs out of her pocket, she placed them by him and activated them. The shimmery force field enacted, holding him prisoner as she calmly walked over to his security console and placed the sticker with his newly embedded fingerprint up to the identification screen.

"Access granted. Security clearance....level 10." The computer groaned to life. The woman grinned. Her homework on her replacement had paid off in more ways than one. His clearance was high enough for what she had needed.

"Personnel file for lt. Jebediah Baile, Marine. Assignment USS Galaxy."

Pulling the chair up under her bottom, she sat with her back to the man as her eyes scanned the information. "There...you are." She whispered. Extracting a small disk from her breast pocket, she inserted it into the console, making a copy of Baile's information. Her eyes continued to scan the embedded information that was in his file revealing the location of the Crow's encampment. Because Baile was not forth coming with the information himself, she had to find another way to get it.

"Ophelia....please...I've missed you." His words sounded nasally, mixed with the blood that was still pouring from his nasal passages.

The woman snorted before spinning in the seat and glancing at him. "Pathetic." She muttered.

"Not such a big man now...are we?" She stood, extracting the weapon with the silencer on the barrel and leveled it at him.

"I've changed...I really have! Just come back and you'll see! I'm sorry...I'm sorry for all those things I did to you...I'll never do it again....please."

"Oh, I'm sure..."

"Lia....let me out of here....we can start over."

Faylin looked at his shivering form. What was once a man of determination sat before her with blood trickling down his face. She took a moment to study him. A slight curl to her glossy lips presented itself. "I really did love you....I still do." She tilted her head to the side with a quizzical look washing over her delicate features. "Why? Why did you have to beat me?"

"I...I don't know....What are you going to do to me?"

McAlister said nothing as she leaned over and turned the force field off. Standing to her full height, she sighed as she held the weapon steady.

"Honey?"

Her mouth drew into a thin line as Fay's index finger tucked itself into the trigger. She drew his look into her mind as the bullet silently sped through his head and exited out the back of his brain. It was a gorgeous pattern of art she had left on the wall behind him. The swirls of grey matter and dark crimson were so poetic in nature, it was enough to make her proud of her artistic ability as his body slowly slumped to the floor with a dead thud of everlasting grief.

"That's for Ophelia............................." McAlister whispered.

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

Location: USS Galaxy

Sitting behind the polished desk, Zamora instantly looked up, her bloodshot eyes locking onto the pale eggshell color of the wall opposite of her. A wave of nausea suddenly hit her for some reason. Shaking her head, she lowered her vision and went back to the draft of the legal form in front of her as she took a long draw from her coffee cup.

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

Location: Personal Quarters of Alex Rodriguez

Before Fay left his quarters, she felt a release of the usual eroticism that occurred after a routine kill. There was only one thing left to do. Tilting her head upwards, McAlister noted the small blinking red light that flashed in the upper left hand corner of the room and smiled brightly as Lt. Ophelia Zamora was known to do recently. She was off the hook...and before too long...Lt. Ophelia Zamora would be in for the fight of her life.

"Final Movement"
Ancient Melody (Side-plot end)

Lieutenant Junior Grade Valentina "Eve" Dimitrieva Kyznetsova
Intelligence Officer, USS Galaxy - Technical Operations

~~~~~~~~
Officer's log, Stardate (XXXXX.X)

We have returned to the Galaxy plus two personnel, Goddard and Com-d'Vile. Starfleet records corroborate their identities and purposes within this sector. Our mission was successful in the intended aim of reprogramming the listening post to new output and encryption parameters. Upon our departure we were engaged by a flight of Hydran fighters. The runabout and fighter suffered only superficial damages. By utilizing the hydran minefield in the area we were able to eventually disengage from the fighters, the Runabout departing first while 'Quatro' kept the hydran attention. He followed shortly thereafter.

Only time will tell us if the hydrans discover or otherwise neutralize the listening post. There are approximately a half dozen more listening posts scattered through space on our side of the old Federation-Hydran border. With the apparent success of this venture, I feel it likely that teams will be sent to the other posts to both ensure their security as well as to likewise alter their now outdated protocols. A fully detailed report has been submitted to Lieutenant Bental as protocol dictates.

On a side note, after our return and debriefing, I stopped by Marine Country. Apparently the marines, for this one operation at least, have acquiesced to utilizing more specialized information gathering devices rather than simply their combat tricorders and the like. The Marine CO, Colonel Arvellion, expressed a desire to return the surveillance devices back to the Intelligence inventory. After a brief discussion it was agreed that the marines would retain the devices in the event of future use. I have therefore downloaded all of the captured data and passed it up to LT Raynor for the analytical department to pour over. I have also, with COL Arvellion's permission, given 4 marines a block of instruction on the basic maintenance, use, and installation of the sensory devices. This will give the marines a wider degree of flexibility, and they won't have to keep coming back to us.

On a personal note, I agree with the Colonel's assessment that it is the Intelligence department's duty to provide what information we can to combat the Opposition. However, after some small amount of research I find that some of the most reliable intelligence reports have come, not from covert operatives or listening posts, but rather from the front line troops. Those in direct conflict and contact with the Opposition know more than any what they are facing and by equipping the marines with these sensory devices, we give other units, Marine and Fleet alike, a better chance. Granted by the time the information is dissemination it won't be accurate up to the minute, but it's better than waiting for some spook in a sneak suit to find something out weeks after it's usefulness has expired.

"The Backyard Door" - Queen's Gambit epilogue

By Oded Magger

* * *

Deep Space.

Away from any star, two spaceship glide toward each other, their sublight engines powered down. They gracefully slow down, one passing below the other, and both come to a full stop.

A flexible sleeve extends from the bottom one, which bears no signs that identify its passengers as Hydrans. It makes contact with the other ship's airlock, and expands slowly as the vacuum within begins to be filled with oxygen-rich atmosphere.

A while later, several figures emerge from the bottom ship, and begin to climb up, skillfully lifting their broad bodies with two of their three arms.

* * *

Elsewhere, and at about the same time, A wrinkled-face Ferengi sits on a cushioned chair in a Spartan-looking meeting chamber, his weathered hand grasping firmly the golden Ferengi-head ornament on top of his cane. He does not display any emotion ? years of bargaining and bartering fixed a passive mask on his face.

Two close-set eyes concentrate on the opponent on the other side of the table. The Ferengi never thought he would barter for his right to barter, definitely not with THEM.

The Hydran is male. The Ferengi was doubtless that there are other Hydrans like him scattered across the Galaxy right now, and that all the rest were females. He knew Hydran culture enough, and being sent a male representative demonstrated that the Hydrans studied the Ferengi culture as well.

What might sound like a good, firm start for a partnership was a complete opposite.

"Your threat is lacking foundation.", the Ferengi tells the Hydran, leaning left in his seat. "We are of more value to you running our trade lanes, than joining the Triad. There are many factors who trade with us and are going to be curious as for why the Ferengi stopped filling their ports with merchandise. And who is going to fill the void? You? By blockading our worlds, you will only increase hostility toward your cause."

The Hydran's beak produces clicking sounds, and the translation followed.

"If I were of the Federation, I would tell you that the Galaxy is better off without greedy Ferengi tainting the trade routes with their foul schemes. Or, I would ignore you completely ? a species like yourself, what threat does it pose? You seek profit, but not through conquest but through exploiting that which exists."

The Hydran poses, and both of them wait for him to make his point.

"We, on the other hand, choose not to overlook you."

* * *

"We were overlooked ourselves."

Light years away, near the now torn stitch between Federation and Hydran space, four Dreshayans stand up with their arms folded. The defiant stance resembles that of a Human folding his arms in more than one way, even though in the Dreshayans' case the arms are flexible and lacking any joints.

Curious creatures, the Hydran envoy thinks as she continues to persuade the four. She was picked because of her unusually short stature, since those who sent her did not want to the envoy to project patronization.

Despite the 'good' intentions, she was still significantly taller than the tallest of the four, Commodore Adair.

"What are you proposing?" the Commodore inquires. His head, she notices, is lifted up in arrogance. So be it.

"We propose our support in solving the Vered cluster issue in exchange for your support."

One of the Dreshayan Captains tries to draw the Commodore's attention. He ignores it.

"Don't play with us, three-eyed wench. We will not agree to any force invading our territory."

"We have no intention to invade; We ask for a one-year right of passage. The Sovereignty does not wish to battle the fleet of Dreshaya, or I wouldn't be here. And let me tell you more."

The Dreshayans would never admit it, but the Hydran task force could annihilate the Dreshayan fleet and the homeworlds' defenses if they wished to. Moreover, it would not slow them down more than the destruction of DS5 already did.

All of those present in the room were aware of this. None brought it up, each one for his or her own reasons.

"We are very sensitive about losing colonies. It happened to us. That is why we sympathize with your side of the Vered cluster conflict. The Federation colonists have no right to plow and mine planets which were ones Dreshayan."

The Dreshayan captains voice their agreement. All except for the Commodore.

"You are not here out of sympathy."

"We are here because we can drink two Slura cones at once. Driving the Federation off Vered is a common interest. If it can be done without a fight, even better."

"How?"

The Hydran's eye stalks focus on the Commodore. She speaks up.

"You present their president an Ultimatum."

* * *

After hours of conversation, the elder Ferengi finally motions to his aide that the meeting was nearly over.

"Your proposal is interesting, but I choose to wait for now.", He says.

"You are going to sit down and see how the Triad's campaign turns out." The Hydran states the obvious.

The Ferengi's face remains still.

"Makes sense. I assume there is a rule of acquisition related?"

"Perhaps."

"Let me assure you." The Hydran says, "The more we succeed, the less attractive our proposal will become. You would do the same, of course. And in the mean time, the rivers of Latinum will dry."

"If you must."

The Hydran makes a confident expression. The sovereignty's political scientists made some very interesting assessment regarding how being siege would affect the Ferengi. The Hydrans didn't even need to put forces on all of the Ferengi's borders ? merely to hold the side which faces the Federation and the other major forces of the quadrant.

"You will reconsider."

* * *

"So it is settled." Says the Hydran, and extends his arm.

The man in front of his takes it, then responds with a Hydran gesture. It is difficult, since he is a Human that has only two arms and no eye-stalks whatsoever, but he still manages to make it without losing face or ridiculing himself.

The men around him would never dare to gloat at him even if he had done it butt naked and wearing a clown's top.

"My men will give yours a list of coded channels to contact us when needed." The Human says. He has a quiet voice, much like a faraway tsunami before it reaches the shore.

"Agreed. I trust we will speak again soon, Mr. Bental."

The Hydrans turn away and leave. The elastic sleeve detaches itself from the Bental-owned starship with a hiss, and the two vessels wrap to their separate ways.

"Grim Task"

Rear Admiral Megarex
Operation 'Safe Haven' Coordinator

* * * USS Nightview * * *

The Bolian Admiral turned off his console with mixed emotions. Three hours earlier, when he received the call and discovered the president, Admiral Murdock and Admiral Price on the other side of the line, he assumed that he was about to be briefed before being dispatched to the front lines, on a mission of great importance on the front line.

He was right, but not in a way he desired. Not the slightest.

Perhaps, he considered as he stormed out of the office, he should have kept his political aspirations low. It was no secret among the top circles of both Starfleet and Bolarus that Megarex intended to advance as much as he can in the fleet ? and then retire to take key role within the Bolian domestic leadership. The current leading figures of the various political parties were all concerned by the emergence of this new player ? charismatic, relatively young, active, and popular. A genuine Dominon war hero, and a fine example of a Bolian.

It was not being his future political opponents to trick him like this before he even wet his blue soles in Bolian politics.

Bastards.

It was, he knew, more logical that the president simply picked him because this operation could explode in their face.

"Sir!" One of his aides, an Andorian Shen bearing a Commander's rank, flanked him and joined his brisk stride. "What was that about?"

"sh'Pakto, we need to set course for the Vered cluster. I need you to get me these Captains as soon as possible. We have no time to waste."

Megarex offered the Commander the black rugged PADD he was holding. Most of the names didn't ring any bells, and the ship's registration numbers suggested that they were transports. There were a few famous names though, like Captain M'Kantu of the Galaxy.

"The Vered cluster is somewhat off the predicted course of the Triad invasion force. It isn't the best tactical spot for a fight." The Shen indicated.

The Bolian shook his head. "Fight. Fight! Who said anything about a fight?"

* * * Vered Cluster, Epsilon Vered, Inner Asteroid Belt * * *

The annoying alerts from the mining station's sensor array woke Yehoshua up from his afternoon doze. He cursed and launched a kick at the computer. The thing was considered a premium piece of hardware back when Captain Kirk was gawking at girls in high school.

When several kicks did not help to fix things, he straightened up, swore again, and took a closer look at the display.

"Fucking midgets."

The communication system was forced to life, and after some noisy protests the static was replaced by the voice of Adi, who was driving the fighter. It was an odd mix between a freighter and a small combat vessel. Probably the same effect one would have fixing a twin phaser gatling guns on top of a truck.

"What is it?" Adi asked. Her voice was cute and sweet, not hinting that the woman behind it was married with eight children, pregnant with the ninth and looked a little like a Truck-with-gatling-phasers herself.

"Damn midgets hauled their debris from their side of the belt toward us. They're aiming for Robominer three this time."

"Mind your language, Joshua, you are talking to?"

"A married woman, yea." He sighed. Adi was more religious than him so she was quite touchy about things like curses and mining on Shabbat. "Seven minutes to impact. Wish I could see that Dreshayan right now, I would break his bloody nose."

"Let me worry about bloody noises."

They had troubles with the Dreshayans. Everyone had trouble with the Dreshayans, but until last month at least the mining operation here at the inner belt did not suffer from interference. Then, a Dreshayan team appeared and began to mine, and both parties were giving each other hard time pretty soon.

From their end of the deal, Joshua flooded the Dreshayans' radio frequency with Hassidic music ? hey, it was supposed to make people joyous ? and moved the robominers to asteroids closer to the Dreshayan base. Adi and the others even ended up firing a few warning shots. The Dreshayan tried to pay back by launching their garbage toward the Robominers. A piece of junk moving at high speed could disable a robominer for weeks, and replacement parts were hard to come by anywhere in the cluster.

As for Starfleet intervention in settling the dispute ? well, they gave up on that long ago. Since they were little, Adi and Joshua's parents taught them that out here they were on their own and they needed no one to babysit them. If they wanted to be pampered, they could always catch a shuttle to the core worlds where Shabbat was no longer upheld and even in Israel most people forgot what it meant to be Jewish.

Back in her 'truck', Adi took the controls and began to maneuver toward the upcoming debris. She dodged some of the larger rocks, then positioned the 'truck' in a relatively open space. She could see the Dreshayans' debris rushing toward them ? products of the shortlings' mining operation.

"Don't do to your friend what you don't want to be done to you." She quoted, and tapped one of her controls. Part of the hull sled open, and a small module protruded. The repulse beam.

She waited for just the right time.

The effect was swift. The debris practically bounced back, hitting a very large rock. The few fragments that missed the repulse beam were quickly annihilated by the gatling phasers. Then, the 'truck' accelerated, using the asteroid as cover to approach the Dreshayan miners.

They must've realized that some sort of taboo was broken, because they gathered their small shuttlepod around the main mining ship. The truck bobbed from its asteroid cover, and while the shuttlepods began to fire at the oncoming rocks, she fired at the nearby mineral reach rocks.

Several good hits were enough to trigger the chain reaction. Chaos came to the belt ? rocks exploding, Dreshayan shuttlepods rushing here and there, explosions sending debris in all direction.

Some of the pods tried to return fire. One of them hit the unshielded port side of the truck, but weapon was weak and the reinforced hull sustained the damage. Adi kept a safe distance from the pods until they ceased their fire and docked with the mining ship.

The ship began to retreat.

Adi opened a channel to the Dreshayans. "Next time, throw your garbage at someone else! If you get back to look for more trouble, I assure you, there'll be many more of us."

That was a common threat which often became true. Over the years, they taught the Dreshayans the hard way not to deal with the colonists. That's the only language these uppity bastards understand ? force.

The Dreshayans, however, did something very untypical.

They responded.

"Don't worry, Human, you won't be here much longer. Our ancestors' lands will be freed of your filth."

"That a fact?" Adi murmured, but turned the truck around.

She did not dedicate more thought to the matter, and would not dedicate any further thought until Starfleet will come to expel her from the only home she ever knew.

The Federation News Net

"Good Evening, I'm Dorega Arevlir with the 1800 hour broadcast of the Federation News Net.

Our Top Story today: Federation Colonists in the remote Vered cluster have been ordered to evacuate. The location was settled by a variety of member species nearly fifty years ago. Hostilities broke out almost immediately between the settlers and the Dershayans, an species native to that region. The Dershayans claim to the planets within the Vered cluster is based upon information within their archives stating that their ancestors settled colonies within the clusters. Archaeological reports have found evidence of previous settlements on a few worlds, but their origins do not fall in line with ancient Dershayan culture. The Dershayan government has declined to comment on this fact, and though they have not openly declared war with the Federation, many of their citizens have engaged in aggressive actions with Federation Colonists.

"Now the future of the Vered Cluster will be dramatically different from what any of the colonists could have imagined.

"Last night an emergency meeting was called by the President behind closed doors. In attendance were Senators on the Colonial Committee as well as top members of Starfleet's Admiralty to include the Admirals Murdoc and Price. Immediately afterwards, a task force was ordered to assemble with a singular mission. Removal of all Federation citizens currently residing within the Vered cluster.

"The Federation Council released to the Associated Press that the reason for the evacuation is due to their proximity to Triad controlled space. With the relatively minimal Starfleet presence in the area Triad forces could easily overwhelm what Starfleet could put in their way. The Dershayan fleet, while impressive, is equally powerless to stop a hostile advance through their territory even without the need to protect the worlds they claim. The President must protect his people, the Council states. In order to do this, he is pulling them back behind established lines of defence. The Federation will abandon the Vered colonies in order to consolidate Starfleet's forces in the area.

"Leading the Task Force is none other than the USS Galaxy, commanded by Captain Daren M'Kantu. Rear Admiral Megarex, who is coordinating this venture, has agreed to allow journalist teams to be embeded within the fleet of starships to evacuate the colonies.

"And in other news, a man was found dead in his home earlier today. Starfleet has had a personal hand in the investigation as the man in question was himself an officer within the Security department. Investigators state they have reliable evidence but have declined at this time to identify their suspect.

"And now it's time for Sports. Med?"

"Medarha Jendoln here for FNN Sports. The Klingon Titans have destroyed the Earth Eradicators in a blowout game. The final score was an astonishing 224 to 0! Averaging 8 touchdowns per quarter ......

[OOC: This is Max and Victory's last post regarding "Queen's Gambit", which now places them on the Galaxy. /OOC]

"Med Evac"

PO2 Maxwell
PO3 Victory

The feeling and weight of a phaser in hand was comforting. The feeling of firing one was exciting. Getting fired on sucked. And that's the situation that they were all in at that moment. The hoppers were leaving, the shuttle long gone, and it was Victory, a few Marines, and Max putting themselves between the remaining unmovable patients and the advancing Hydrans.

"Get some!" howled Max as he let off a few bursts of phaser fire, taking down a couple of soldiers. His reply was a heavy volley of weapons fire, causing him to duck behind some heavy crates that were placed there for some kind of barricade. He turned to the Marine Next to him and asked, "Any idea how much longer till they get a fix on the patients?"

"Shouldn't be much longer," was the reply in between shots. Max looked over his shoulder to see how Victory was doing.

Unlike Maxwell, Victory was unarmed. The only device in her hands was her medical tricorder. Several of the Marines had almost pleaded with her to take up arms, but she had staunchly refused. She was a nurse, she had no business firing a phaser when she had patients to care for. And caring for them she was. The last batch of wounded that the rescue teams had been unable to extract with the shuttles and hoppers had been gathered into a single barricaded corner of the compartment.

They were the wounded that were too badly injured to be easy to move. Internal injuries, spinal damage, missing limbs, all of the most dire nature. There was no way they could be moved far. A transporter was the only option for getting them out.

Of course the option always remained to leave them behind and save those that could be easily taken out of harms way. But that would go against every moral fiber in Victory's body and in Max's too, she knew that. So the two of them had remained, with a small contingent of Marines willing to help the pair of medics hold out until the Galaxy could swing close enough to the station to beam them all off in one pass.

That sounded a lot easier than it actually was. The enemy was getting close, pushing in all around. They would not be able to hold out much longer. It was a simple factor of numbers. Skill and bravery had nothing to do with it. The enemy had numerical superiority and sooner or later they would crush the last of the defenders and kill them and the wounded they fought to protect.

That was unless the Galaxy got to them in time, something which Victory very much hoped would be happening sooner rather than later.

She glanced up from the man she was tending, his spine was broken in three places and he had a ruptured lung. He was very lucky to be alive. She had just administered the last of the painkiller in her small inventory. She was the only one tending to the wounded. Even now Max had joined their five Marines in holding the line.

As her eyes swept across the six of them they cought on his, as he had glanced in her direction at the same moment. She gave him a quick, reassuring smile before the both of them had to turn their attention back to their duties at hand.

Satisfied that she was doing okay, Max turned his attention back to his more immediate concern: The blue menace that encroached upon them. One of the Marines with him, apparently a sniper, expertly dispatched one after another. He made perfect aim for the joints and breaks in the armor.

But it wasn't enough. They were steadily getting closer, and by now one of the defenders got taken out, decapitated by a well placed fusion weapon shot. One glanced confirmed the kill for Max. He took the Marine's phaser rifle, checked the power level, and like some mad maniac from an old Terran film, proceeded to fire both rifles in a spread. He knocked down several Hydrans, but their armor cought the brunt of the assault. And still they came.

He tapped the CommBadge on his uniform and shouted, "Maxwell to Galaxy, anytime now!!" He looked back at Victory again, hoping that none of the weapons fire had hit her.

The enemy was indeed getting too close for comfort now. Victory had thrown herself over one of the wounded to protect the young ensign from a shower of sparks ad debris that had been caused by a weapon impact that was all too close.

"How long until we get out of here?!" She asked as she swept some bits of hot debris away from the ensign with her bare hands. She turned to check on the others, just in time to see a Hydran trying to force his way through on one of the sides. Several of the Marines trained their weapons on the enemy and fired, but not before he got off a shot of his own.

The Hydran's shot had gone wide, his aim disrupted by the lethal phaser fire from the Marines that killed him. The shot than hit Victory in the left shoulder, rather than center of mass, causing her to spin as she was knocked off balance. Sparks and a small gout of fire erupted from the hit as she fell back on the deck with a loud thud.

When he heard the noise behind him, Max spared a quick glance to see what happened. What he saw was Victory on the ground, her left shoulder an absolute mess. "Vic!" he screamed over the high pitched whine of energy weapons fire from both sides. This has gone on long enough, as far as he was concerned.

"Maxwell to Galaxy," he shouted as he tapped his CommBadge. "Emergency EVAC NOW!!" He looked up in time to see two Hydrans trying to force their way through. Max's finger jammed on the fire button and phased energy erupted from his rifle, knocking both down. Then a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time took hold of him: a transporter field. Through the haze of dematerialization he watched one of the remaining Marines take a hit in the arm. He apparently didn't get caught in the transporter beam.

He rematerialized on a transporter pad and saw numerous Security Officers and Medical personnel in front of him. He looked around him and saw only two Marines,and one patient.

"Where's the rest of them?" Max demanded, already becoming frantic. If Victory was left behind...

"We distributed everyone throughout the various transporter rooms throughout the ship," someone said, apparently the Transporter Chief. Already the medical personnel moved in on the patient behind Max, the person with the severed spine that Victory was working on. He automatically gave report on the patient.

"Thirty-Eight year-old Terran, Alert and Oriented times four, fractures of the vertebrae at C-3, C-4, and T-1. Ruptured right lung, O2 saturation holding at around 90% with Tri-Ox administration. Vital signs are blood pressure 104/50, heart rate 112, sinus tach, respiratory rate 30, neuros..." He disappeared out of the Transporter Room with the patient and the Nurses.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the USS Galaxy, in another transporter room another wash of transporter beams had dissipated, leaving wounded people and one nurse with a smoking hole in her uniform laying on the cold pad. Internal systems had gone into automatic damage assessment mode after the initial shock of the energy weapon hit had been absorbed and distributed throughout her conductive armor mesh. Control circuits ok, muscular network ok, artificial nervous system ok, motor respons system ok. All of these checks happened in less than a second. But she was not concerned with them.

She was already pushing back to her feet and grabbing her medical tricorder to check on her patients. Not all of them were there, they must have been divvied up between the ships transporter rooms. there were, of course, a few too many to just beam up into one. Her spinal injury patient was missing, she hoped wherever he had ended up he was being tended to quickly. He was the worst injury.

As the medics rushed in she gave rundown of various patients conditions and needs, helped get people onto stretchers and sorted out for transport to sickbay. She paid little attention to the medic who had turned his attention to her.

"Miss, hold still a moment while I check your shoulder" he said, getting her attention with a firm but gentle hand on her opposite, undamaged shoulder.

"No, I'm fine. The others need you, I don't" she replied

"I insist, miss" he said in a more serious tone.

Victory glanced down at her shoulder. The uniform was burned away from her shoulder, tunic and undershirt blacked and featuring a nice big hole. The artificial skin was a mess, melted and burned through. But the shot had not pierced the armor mesh protected muscles.

"It's just cosmetic damage" she said as she tested the arm, movement was good, her system had cut out all pain receptors automatically when she had taken the hit, a handy little subroutine from her combat programming that enabled her to be shot and not be burdened with physical pain in a situation like the one she had just been in.

"Take care of the others, I dont need anything" she indicated an ensign with a sever burn to her face and neck.

The medic frowned, but did not argue, rather he went knelt by the burned woman, scanning her with his tricorder.

"Victory was beside him a second later. "She has second degree burns on her face and neck. Three broken ribs on her left side and a fractured ankle. "I administered 30cc's Rexlin about twenty minutes ago, enough to sedate her" she explained. "I did not have time to do more than take her pain away. There was just too much happening" she sighed, looking down at the sleeping ensign, wishing she had been able to do more than knock her out.

A stretcher arrived and the pair of them gently lifted the Ensign onto it and departed from the transporter room. Sickbay was not far, this transporter room being on the same deck and one section over. As they moved, Victory had little time to think of things other than administering treatment to her patient. But even so, at the back of her mind she hoped Max had made it out alright. The last few moments had been chaos.

"Sensitive and Decisive"

Featuring Captain Daren R. M'Kantu
Rear Admiral Megarex

"I am sorry that it reached the news before we could speak, Daren. So little seems to escape the media these days."

Captain M'Kantu's wise eyes observed the image of the Bolian on the screen. His fingers interlaced beneath his chin, providing some rest to a sore head. Apologies were cheap, but it was not Rear Admiral Megarsh that he to face the inquiries of his men before even being briefed. 'Wait patiently', he told Bental when the latter came to express his concerns regarding the mission. 'We were not told anything official yet'.

They were now.

"What's done is done, Megarex." Captain M'kantu responded.

The Bolian smirked. "Good reaction. That's precisely why Price recommended you for the task. You're one of the most level-headed people I know, Daren. I can't think of other Starfleet Captain who can handle the challenges ahead as well as you."

Daren sighed inwardly. It's been twenty years since he worked with Megarex, and the man was still too cordial and still enjoyed using big slogans. Exactly what this grim task required ? a copywriter to make it look better than what it was.

"So we are going to evacuate the colonists of Vered cluster." He said, attempting to make the Admiral get to the point.

"Yes?"

"Are they willing to evacuate? Has anyone spoken with them?"

The smile vanished from the Bolian's face. "People from the liaison corps have been in continuous contact with the colony leaders even before it became public. Some are willing to evacuate, some will cooperate, and others? are less easy to persuade."

Megarex scratched his brow. "In fact, we suspect that it was they who informed the FNN."

Petty excuse, thought Daren. This was war time, so the government's hold over the news service was tighter than usual.

"I understand we are talking about a few dozen thousands?"

"Spread across several star systems. The Galaxy and six transport vessels will be handling the most populated region."

"I see."

"I can see that you are concerned, Daren. I understand you. We all are. One wrong move, a single drop of blood n the wrong place, and this could explode. This is why we need people like you, and like your crew, to handle it. We hope that the colonists will understand that we are not abandoning them ? we are sending them heroes of DS5! We-"

"I don't think that someone who is going to be taken by force from his home would care if a 'hero' comes to do it." Daren indicated dryly. Megarex's charisma worked very little magic on him. No slogan is going to change the fact that his men were ordered to do something which was as far from heroic as possible.

"Starfleet did a lot of preparatory work in a very short time span." The Admiral continued, abandoning fancy words and mottos for the time being. "We brought together a very large team of psychologists, political analysts and other specialists. All have been working night and day to make this as smooth as possible and to prepare to every scenario. Once you rendezvous with the Nightview, these people are going to work closely with your crew and prepare them for the task. Dallas and Elessidil are still assigned to the Galaxy?"

Daren nodded.

"Good. I was told the Galaxy has a strong counseling department. We'll need each and every one of them to prepare the crew mentally."

"And once we reach the cluster?"

"Your men will divide to teams, contact the colonists, and help them pack and evacuate. The main 'think-tank' described how we want to do this quite accurately: 'With sensitivity and decisiveness'. With sensitivity, we hope to disarm any potential situations and make the transit as comfortable as possible. With decisiveness, we'll see to it that it happens, period."

"I think that this kind of operation requires more than a couple of weeks of preparation. My men will do the work, of course, but they are exhausted physically and mentally."

"It's an ugly job, Daren, but someone has to do it." The Bolian sighed, "I already explained to you why you are the best choice."

The Captain did not require any explanation. His stoic gaze remained leveled. Of course he will do it. He had his orders.

How many villains throughout history explained their actions with this exact explanation? 'I had orders'?

It was not that Daren was sure evicting the colonists was a mistake. The Hydrans indeed approach Vered, and Starfleet was spread too thin to protect the cluster. Plus, the Dreshayan claims weren't without a base despite the way the FNN tried to present things. It was one of these cases where both sides ? the colonists and the Dreshayans ? were half right.

But all of this won't make the task of pulling people out of their homes easier. In his mind's eye, the Captain could imagine women screaming at officers in uniform, old men sheding a tear, and brash idealistic youngsters waving flags behind barricades. All of this was waiting his crew, instead of the rest they deserved.

"Any other information I should know for the time being?" The Captain asked.

"Only that you are doing the Federation a great service, and that your effort is appreciated greatly. We'll iron the fine details face to face, not over subspace. My aides will send you relevant material and the standard mission dossiers we're giving to all of the commanders in the field."

"I understand."

"Sensitive and decisive, Captain. Remember that. Megarex out."

The screen went blank, and Daren's head sank a little more. Sensitivity and decisiveness. Indeed.

He made a short prayer to Allah, hoping that those behind Megarex truly thought it out.

"Making Promises"

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commanding Officer

CMC Madden Jayce
Chief of the Boat

****

To say that Madden was happy to see the station destroyed would be an understatement; Deep Space Five had seen nothing but pain and tragedy in the past three years and for the structure to finally be out of its misery was a welcome event. Having watched from the bridge as it blew a day earlier, the Galaxy Chief of the Boat felt a little more at peace, as though something in the universe and entrenched deep within her own spirit was finally at rest. This was not to say that the scars left from her time alone and besieged on the Dithparu haunted station littered with the corpses of her colleagues were healed; it would take much more than a beautiful explosion for that. But at the very least she could categorically say that it was now done.

She just wished she had been able to be involved in the final sabotage.

The Hydrans hadn't followed, and as everyone chipped in to help with the post-battle clean up, Galaxy's crew was beginning to get back into its usual routine while they waited for the next assignment to come in. Given the situation in which the Federation had once again found itself, no one doubted it would take long for it to come. Yet in the meanwhile, they were content to decompress from the stress of recent events and to address issues they had been forced by violent necessity to postpone.

Such had brought her back to the bridge.

"Captain," the Master Chief said, leaning in toward the skipper, her voice low. "I was wondering if I might be able to speak with you a moment."

Daren looked up from the padd he was reviewing, studied Madden for a moment, and then nodded. "Of course, CoB. Give me just a moment here." He checked off several items, initialed them, and handed the padd back to the ensign waiting for it. As the young man headed for the turbolifts, Daren stood and motioned for Madden to follow him, "Let's use my office; there are some things I need to check there."

The petite Betazoid followed him into his ready room and paused a moment, watching her Commanding Officer. She respected M'Kantu in many ways. He had a command style that tended toward the traditional; he didn't get too close to anyone, kept a very clear diversionary line. He was the Captain. A lot of them didn't do that these days, many tried to be friends with their crew or, at the very least, their senior staff.

"I know you are busy, Sir, so I will make this brief. May I speak freely?" she questioned.

"By all means, go ahead."

She nodded. "I represent the vast majority of your crew. More than seventy percent of the people on this ship fall under my purview. They're the ones who are the front lines. It's simply the law of numbers. Yet I've continuously been excluded from staff meetings, meetings that on almost any other ship of the line my position would be included on. I was wondering why this was."

Daren paused for a moment and thought back to the long string of meetings that had marked his tour aboard Galaxy. Embarrassingly, the Master Chief was correct; even more embarrassingly, Daren knew the reason why. He sighed and waved Madden to a seat as he sat down himself, eyeing the now-cold cup of coffee on his desk and wondering how long it had been there.

"Because I'm old, Master Chief."

"You're old, sir?"

"I'm old, CoB -- or at least old-fashioned," Daren explained. "When I was learning command, the line between officers and enlisted personnel was, well, more defined. Sharper. More of a wall than a line to be honest; although the attitudes that led to that are likely well before your time. And despite the time that's passed, I'm still commanding in many of the same ways I learned back as an Ensign and a Lieutenant. I'm so used to the wall being there that I don't see it any more. Matters aren't helped by the fact that issues dealing with enlisted personnel are all handled by individual department heads and by you, so I never see them unless someone's about to be court-martialed. That's why." He leaned back and shook his head. "Not a particularly good reason, I grant you, and certainly an embarrassing one, but there it is."

"And Captain, I not only understand that, I can respect it," Madden said. "As any one of my people would be able to tell you, I like the traditions. I appreciate the separation, the distinction; in many ways, I even encourage and foster it. I think it can be good for everyone. But nonetheless, there are some things about tradition that have changed for a reason, and this is one of them. Enlisteds represent seventy percent of the crew and over eighty-five percent of the casualties. The most recent battle is proof enough of that. These people have unique issues and concerns and need to have some one with their specific interests sitting on major meetings, especially those involving tactical advances on a captured space station."

"Fair enough, CoB. I can't do anything about the past meetings, but I'll make certain that you're added to the list for any future meetings... and we both know that with a war on there are going to be plenty more of those soon enough."

"I appreciate that, Sir," she said with a curt nod.

"Is there any thing else?"

"No, Sir, that would be all. Unless you need anything from me?"

"No... Yes, yes I do," he corrected himself. "This is going to be a war, CoB. A real one, like the Dominion War, not the protracted battles we fought at Romulus. Many of the enlisted crew weren't out of basic training then, and they're not going to understand what it means... but you do. They need to be ready for it, to understand what's coming. Can you work on that?"

"Don't you worry," she said, tilting a somber half-smile toward the Galaxy's commanding officer. "I'm a step ahead. I'll take care of my kids if you take care of yours, and between us? I can promise you this, Captain -- we'll be ready for anything the Triad can throw at us."

"Well, You Asked..."

Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Chief Counselor

Crewman Marcus Stiles
NPC

"Paxa root tea," Brian said, setting one cup of steaming beige liquid on the coffee table and keeping one for himself before taking a seat across from the young crewman.

Marcus Stiles had been coming to the counselor for a number of weeks now. It seemed that after only a few months aboard the Galaxy, stress was becoming an issue for him. Not an unusual situation by any means, Brian was actually enjoying what was by comparison a relatively simple problem. None of the of mind-boggling peculiarities of a Zev Raynor, or the non-stop combativeness of a Dhanishta Eshe. Crewman Stiles was the kind of person who was actually willing and able to be helped and for whom standard techniques of psychotherapy usually worked.

"Thank you, Counselor." The young man accepted the drink without hesitation. He was used to the ritual now: he arrived feeling somewhat anxious, the counselor began the session with a friendly smile and a warm cup of Marcus' favorite beverage, then Marcus relaxed a little, ready to talk and continue working on his state of mind.

"Well, how did it go this week?"

"Better, Sir."

Elessidil smiled. "'Brian' is still okay here, Marcus." Though he generally preferred a more relaxed atmosphere in his sessions, Brian made it a particular point to try to encourage Stiles to call him by his first name. It was one more way to ease the tension that the young man seemed to perpetually carry with him. "What made this week better?"

"Well, S-, Brian, I tried some of the, uh, the meditation techniques you showed me last time. Every day before my shift, I sat alone in my bunk and focused on what I had to do. I thought through my routine shift duties and the people who would be there and reminded myself that it was all familiar, that it was all stuff I'd been through every day before."

"That's good," the counselor said encouragingly. "Did you find that it made it easier to start the day?"

"Yes, it did. There was one day when Commander Corgan asked me to run a level-three diagnostic on all the brig containment systems and report back to him in three hours, but I did it. I didn't panic, I didn't start to feel light-headed...I just reminded myself that it was just a task, not a way to try to 'get me' or anything."

It was obvious that Marcus felt a bit of pride at this accomplishment, and Brian wasted no time in reinforcing it. "Marcus, are you hearing yourself? Three weeks ago you would have had a panic attack if Commander Corgan had even spoken to you by name. This time, you not only talked to him, you accepted a pretty significant task and performed it without it crushing you with stress. You should be very, very proud of yourself."

"Well, Sir, I uh, I guess I kinda am."

"That's fantastic. Did the report go well afterwards?"

The crewman beamed just a little. "Yeah, it did. He didn't really say anything about it, but he didn't seem like anything was wrong."

Brian chuckled. "I'm sure it was fine. He's not the kind of man to beat around the bush, you know. That's a very significant step, Marcus. Keep doing the morning meditation. Keep focusing yourself, remembering that most everything and everyone you're going to encounter in a day's work is something or someone you've dealt with before -- and now you can add level three brig diagnostics and Commander Corgan himself to that list." He took a sip of his tea, silently reveling in the moment of renewed self-confidence that washed over the other man.

"Now that we've got you on a good routine to start your day, we should look at some ways to reinforce your calm at the end of the day, especially at the end of a more difficult day." Immediately, Brian empathically sensed Marcus tense up inside at even the mention of the possibility of a more difficult day. Clearly, they still had some work to do. "Marcus, remember what we've talked about. Everyone has a hard day now and then, but it doesn't have to be something that breaks you down. If you keep yourself focused you can learn from those experiences and become stronger from them. You just have to remember that they're normal and that having a bad doesn't say anything about you as a person."

"I know," the crewman replied, his tone a little more tentative now.

"Let's say Commander Corgan gives you a task to do and it doesn't go well -- take a deep breath, Marcus, I'm just talking about a task that doesn't work out right away, not a complete disaster. Let's say your shift ends and you know the task didn't turn out the way you had hoped it would. How do you think you might react?"

"I- I'd feel like running away and hiding somewhere."

"Okay, that's not so strange. A lot of people would feel like that. The question is how are you going to deal with that feeling. You know you really can't go very far and that it's probably going to be something you'll have to face again sooner or later, but maybe as a first step you do something else to engage your mind. Almost like running away, but just for a bit, just long enough to clear your head. A holodeck program, maybe? Do you have any you like?"

"Well...yeah, I guess."

"Tell me about it."

"Well...there's this place on Risa I've been to...."

"Risa -- a very popular holodeck destination. Good place to relax. Tell me some more."

"Well, I don't go to the resorts or anything."

"Oh?" Brian inquired, genuinely interested.

"No. They're usually too crowded and stuff. There's a place further away, it's like a grassy field on a hill. There are trees, flowers...."

Brian could sense Marcus' mind slowly drifting into the idyllic scenario he'd described, an atypical sense of calm coming over him as he recalled the place in his mind's eye.

"I like to go there...well...." Stiles said, his voice trailing off with embarrassment.

"Go on," Brian gently prodded. "It sounds like a really nice place."

"Well...I like to go there...naked."

"Naked?" Brian repeated, grinning a little. "Nothing wrong with that. On Betazed we find relaxing naked more comfortable than anything."

Buoyed by the approval, Marcus continued. "The air is so warm there, and it just feels great feeling the warmth of the sun instead of the cold artificial light we're in here all day. I, I just like the feel of the grass beneath my feet..."

Stiles' cadence picked up a little, and Brian could tell that he'd found something that they could use for further focused relaxation.

"....and there are these sheep there..."

Sheep? The unexpected word echoed in Brian's mind for a moment.

"....they're so fluffy and warm..."

The *sheep* were warm? The counselor's grin began to fade as Marcus continued to lose himself in the scene.

"....and so cuddly and gentle...."

~Oh please...please don't let this go where I think it is,~ Brian silently prayed to any deity that could possibly hear him.

There was silence in the room for a moment as crewman Stiles drew his arms around himself, recreating the warmth he felt from the thought of his beloved holodeck program. Brian just sat there, frozen, watching with apprehension as the picture of serenity before him devolved into something more...disturbing.

Then Marcus' eyes rolled back in his head for an instant. "BAAAAAAAAN!"

Clutching his cup of tea, Elessidil stared, wide-eyed. His patient repeated the sound.

"BAAAAAAAAN!"

In all his years as a counselor, Brian had never encountered someone with this kind of....love....for animals. It suddenly became clear that stress was the least of crewman Stiles' problems.

"Um...Marcus...." there was a slight rasp to Brian's voice as he desperately tried to think of the most delicate way to handle this situation. On the one hand, it *was* Risa, after all; all manner of unusual things went on there (and preferably stayed there). He wasn't sure if it was the oddity or the unexpectedness of Marcus' reaction that concerned him more.

A moment went by before the counselor's voice registered and Stiles came back to reality. He seemed quite content, almost blissful. It was Brian who now felt stressed and uneasy, and the look of him holding onto a cup of tea like it was a life-preserver was hard not to notice.

"Counselor...I, I'm sorry. Did I say something...?"

"Oh, you said plenty," Brian hastily responded. "And uh, I think we should definitely talk some more about it. Later. Maybe next week even."

Marcus seemed a little perplexed but not embarrassed or concerned in the least about what he'd shared. "Well, sure....next week is fine I guess...."

"Great!" Brian said, forcing a broad smile as he rose to his feet to quickly escort Marcus to the door. "Next week it is. Same time. Keep up that meditation...."

As Stiles exited the counselor's office with a look of bewilderment on his face, Brian could only see one image: some poor unfortunate Risan sheep wondering what the hell was going on.

He realized that he would need the meditation this week more than Marcus Stiles.

"Still Not Early Enough"

Thorin Malik
Thorin Janna

****
Gamma Vered II
New B'Hala Colony

Morning broke early, too early, as it had a tendency to do. Groaning under the twisted pile of sheets, Malik rolled towards the center of the bed, trying in vain to escape the intensity of the sun's rays streaming in through the narrow windows on the western side of his house.

He'd never been a morning person, not even when he was a youngster. Oftentimes his parents and two brothers would be up hours before him, getting chores done while he snoozed away. His tendency to sleep in had led to his friends and family labeling him the lazy one of the brood, a nickname that was not entirely unjustified. But it wasn't that he hated the sunlight; on the contrary, he had enjoyed spending his days gazing out at the lush fields behind his family's modest house, watching the play of light through the leaves, dancing against the verdant grass and the few colorful patches of wildflowers that remained.

At least, he had enjoyed that until sometime around age fourteen. Until the inevitable day when he had woken up to find the fields on fire.

Cardassians, he'd feared, and his mother's screams traveling through the thin walls of their house only confirmed his fears. Body tensing unconsciously he'd rolled out of bed and grabbed the only item in the small bedroom he shared with his two brothers that could be considered a weapon. Barely over a meter long, he knew the walking staff wouldn't do much against the larger and stronger Cardassian soldiers. But he was a Bajoran, proud and strong, and almost a man grown. He wasn't going down without a fight.

Heart thumping loudly in his chest, the rush of blood through his ears making it nearly impossible to hear, he'd held on tightly to the smooth wooden staff and began to creep slowly from his room. Slowly, slowly he'd crept, sliding silently from his bedroom, bare feet making not a sound as he moved down the hallway towards the house's main room. Around the corner he could just see the metallic black and grey of the Cardassian military uniform, the sun through the windows playing off the textured fabric in strange ways. There were two of them, and they were standing with their backs to him, their attentions focused on something he couldn't quite see. If he could just creep closer, closer, just a little closer...

"Malik, no!" That was his mother again, the shrillness of her voice cutting through his thoughts. His eyes refocused on the situation, reflexes automatically warning him of the sudden danger from the very large, very shiny, very deadly pistol now being leveled at his head.

Time slowed (as it tended to do in these situations) as he dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding the first shot. A hail of green fire erupted above his head as he tried to scramble back to the relative safety of his room. Something suddenly tugged at his leg, weakly at first, then much harder as an iron grip clamped down upon his ankle, causing him to cry out in fear and pain. Swinging the walking stick blindly at his attacker he squirmed awkwardly onto his back...only to come face to face with the menacing grin of a Cardassian soldier.

"Going somewhere?" the soldier asked as he caught the end of the stick effortlessly in one hand. Malik froze, shock taking over, shutting down everything but the fight or flight response. And right now, he could do neither. The soldier's grin widened as he effortlessly tore the staff from Malik's grip and leveled his pistol at the boy. It was the last thing Malik saw before his world erupted in green fire and then everything went black.

And when he awoke--

"Husband..." There was a tug at the sheets, strong hands pulling them back, slowly exposing Malik to the warmth and the brightness of the sun. "Husband, wake up."

Groaning again, Malik tried in vain to roll away from the tugging, in the process getting his feet tangled up in the mess of sheets. He rolled again, and again...

And discovered gravity dutifully taking over, dragging him off the softness of his bed and onto the cold, hard wood of the floor.

Somewhere above him, his wife was snickering.

"Get up, lazy one," she told him, kicking half-heartedly at the tangle of sheets around his ankles. "It's late. Anton's been by already, at least a half hour ago."

"What about Kell?" Malik asked in a mumble, trying half-heartedly to extricate his feet from the sheets. "Surely he's..."

"Left for the site at daybreak."

"Ugh...and why did you let me sleep so late..."

"You needed it." She smiled, her grey eyes dancing with amusement, even though in his face-down position he wouldn't see her expression. After a moment, she squatted down and began to work on the sheets herself. "But now it's time--oh!"

Malik giggled mischievously as he reached out to circle his wife's tiny waist, pulling her off balance to tumble forward into his waiting arms. He embraced her tightly, feeling her body relax and respond to his as he showered her with kisses. "Mmmm...bet you didn't expect that..."

"Malik...Malik..." his wife tried to protest as she squirmed in his arms. "Malik, I've got customers downstairs," she finally got out, partially pulling back from her husband, "and you need to get dressed and get to work."

"So serious." He gave her an exaggerated pout as he watched her stand and dust off her already dusty apron. "You always have customers, Janna."

She frowned down at him, only half serious, and crossed her thin arms over her chest. "Alright, alright," Malik responded quickly, throwing up his hands in protest. "You win! You always win." Giving her a wink, he bounded to his feet with the vitality of a man half his age, then bent down to give her a light peck on the cheek. "I'll be down in a moment, love."

"You better," Janna replied, swatting him playfully on the backside before turning and sliding out of the small bedroom before he could do the same to her. Malik chuckled, watching her go before turning back to the windows, contemplating the rays of sunlight crisscrossing the room for just one moment more. Still too early, he thought after a moment. And still not early enough.

~Scientific Report~

Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Chief of Astronomy and Physics

Cutter sighed as he typed up the last bit of his report for the captain. As chief of astronomy and physics, it was his responsability to research and report on the known astrophysical properties of the stellar systems they traveled to and the phenomena they encounted. He had to do little research, fortunately, as there were other scientists serving beneath him who dedicated their careers to such research. He merely had to compile and summarize their findings, which was relatively easy, but extremely time consuming. As he sent off the report, he sighed again, reflecting on his assignment to one of the colony evacuation teams. Which meant further delays in his personal research. Always more delays.

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

To: Captain Daren M'Kantu
From: Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Subject: Astronomical Topography of the Vered Cluster
Date: ----

This report covers the astronomical topography of the 'Vered Cluster,' the current destination for the USS Galaxy, NCC 70637. For easy access and assimilation of information, the structure of this report is as follows:

I - The Vered Cluster: A Stellar Association - general information about the cluster and its astronomical classification.
II - Evidence for a weak R-Type Stellar Association classification - a description of the thin nebula that surrounds the cluster.
III - Stellar members of the Vered Cluster - general information about the stars that compose the cluster.
IV - Profiles of individual stars and stellar systems - information about the stars and stellar systems in the cluster. This section is broken down by star, and then again by major planetary members of that stellar system.
V - Departmental Alerts

I - The Vered Cluster: A Stellar Association

The Vered Cluster is located on the border of sectors 26 and 27, two of one hundred sectors in block 211 (as defined by the current sectoring system of the Federation Astronomical Cartographers Union (FACU)), located in the upper, galactic core side of the Federation. This region of space lies on the edge of Federation protected space, near the claimed boundaries of the Hydran Sovreignty.

The Vered Cluster is, by technical definition, not a stellar cluster as its name would suggest. It is, in fact, a stellar association, and may be classified as an attenuated R-association.

Stellar clusters are groups of stars which are gravitationally bound. The species that appear within the galactic plane are Open Clusters, which contain up to a few hundred members within a region of space the size of a two-by-two-by-two sector cube. The members of an Open Cluster form at approximately the same time from the same cloud of interstellar material. Thus, all the stars in a cluster share similar ages, chemical compositions and proper motions through space.

The Vered Cluster, in contrast, is made of no more than a dozen stars in a region of space five light years in diameter. These stars share a number of commonalities, indicating they were all formed from the same cloud of interstellar material. These commonalities include:

Age - The stars in the Vered Cluster are relatively young, approximately two billion years old. This figure was first approximated using Stromgren photometry and fitting to the main sequence. Upon human exploration, samples from dust and asteroids in orbit of the stars were gathered, and the stellar ages were confirmed using isotope-based dating methods.

Proper Motions - All the stars in the Vered Cluster have very similar proper motions through the Galaxy, moving in an opposite orbit around the galactic core, compared to other stars in the stellar neighborhood.

Metallicities - The stars in the Vered Cluster all have above average metallicities, and similar [Fe/H], [Si/H], [C/H], [N/H] and other metalic ratios.

Thus, it is clear that the stars in the Vered Cluster were once part of a larger open cluster, but, at some point in thier history, were expelled. In fact, current literature suggests a larger stellar association remnant of the same mother cluster exists over 400 parsecs past the Romulan empire. The stars in the Vered Cluster are not gravitationally bound to one another. Their current proximity is pure happenstance. Therefore, this group should be considered a stellar association.

II - Evidence for a weak R-Type Stellar Association classification

While the stars in the Vered Cluster are not gravitationally bound to one another, they are surrounded by a very thin nebula of dust and gas which is gravitationally bound to the set. The metalicity of this nebular material matches that of the stars in the cluster, as does its age, as indicated by isotopic aging techniques. This suggests the material that makes up the surrounding nebula is left over material from the larger cloud from which the stars formed.

The nebula is quite sparse, and offers no significant attenuation of light in the visible spectrum. However, it is heated by the stars of the Vered Cluster and reradiates this energy out in the form of radio and microwaves, allowing the cluster to be identified as an R-type stellar association. The magnitude of this radiation is quite low, however, and requires significant observation time for a sufficient S/N ratio to be reached.

III - Stellar members of the Vered Cluster

As stated above, the Vered Cluster is made up of no more than 12 stars located within a region of space 5 light years in diameter. In other words, the average distance between any of the stars in the cluster is about 2.2 light years.

All stellar members are relatively cool, low mass stars. Alpha, Beta and Gamma Vered are classified as G-type stars (G4V, G7V and G9V, respectively). All are slightly less luminous than Sol. Delta Vered through Theta Vered are classified as K-type stars and Iota Vered through Mu Vered are classified as cool, red M-type stars.

Four of the twelve stars are members of a binary system: Beta Vered is partnered with Mu Vered and Zeta Vered is partnered Eta Vered. Three additional stars are grouped together in a trinary system: Epsilon Vered is partnered with Lambda Vered, and that pair is orbited by Gamma Vered.

Due to their high metalicity, all stars in the cluster have debree in orbit as a result of their formation, ranging in size to small asteroids and other planetecimals to terrestrial planets, to small gas giants. Please reference the following sections for more detail on individual stars and their stellar systems.

Theta Vered is analomous due to its very low mass stellar system. No planets or large planeticimals orbit this member of the cluster. It is thought that this star suffered a close pass by another star, possibly another member of the cluster, and the material in orbit of Theta Vered was gravitationally ejected.

IV - Profiles of individual stars and stellar systems

A) Alpha Vered

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B1) Beta Vered

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B2) Mu Vered

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C1) Gamma Vered

Gamma Vered is classified as a G9V star. It has a temperature of 5400 K, a mass of 0.95 Sol and a radius of 0.93 Sol. It has a sidereal rotation period of 24.75 days. It is not variable and electromagnetically stable, for a star of its type.

Gamma Vered is part of a trinary star system. It is considered to be the third member as it orbits the other two members, Epsilon and Lamba Vered, in an elliptical orbit with a major axis of 213 AU, or in other words, greater than four times the distance between Sol and Pluto.

Gamma Vered has five major planetary bodies, three of which are terrestrial. They are designated Gamma Vered I, II, III, IV and V, and orbit at a distance of 0.44 AU, 0.81 AU, 0.87 AU, 1.12 AU and 3.4 AU, respectively. All are terrestrial planets except for Gamma Vered IV, which is a small gas giant. This star is also surrounded by a very loosely organized asteroid belt, or cloud, at a distance of 8.3 AU.

C1. A - Gamma Vered I - Gamma Vered I orbits at a distance of 0.44 AU and has a mass of 0.3 Earths. It is too close to its star to not massive enough to hold an atmosphere. It is classified as class B, geomorteus, or as class D, barren, and has geology similar to that of Mercury and Luna.

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C1. B - Gamma Vered II - Gamma Vered II is quite large, with a mass of of 1.12 Earths and a radius of 1.06 Earths. Its orbit falls into the habitable zone of its star. Gamma Vered II has a stable atmosphere which is composed of mostly Nitrogen and Oxygen, with trace amounts of Carbon Dioxide, Neon and other gases. Its atmosphere maintains an average surface temperature of 12 C, and its surface is covered with considerable amounts of liquid water. This planet is classified as class M, and is readily habitable by humans.

The planet's surface is approximately 50% water, 42% land, and 8% water ice. It has a rotation period of 26.4 hours and an axial tilt of 31 degrees, and so its seasons are more pronounced than those experienced on Earth. Because of this, areas above 40 degrees latitude are considered largely uninhabitable.

Climate in the habitable areas is mainly subtropical and temperate, but the temperature variations between seasons are much more pronounced than those on Earth.

Beta Vered 2 has two moons, designated a and b, both of which are about 0.2 Earths in diameter. The gravitational pull of these two satellites causes ocean tides that, when combined with certain weather phenomena, can be rather catastrophic.

Please see attached geological report for more information on this planet's geological and climatological systems.

C1.C - Gamma Vered III - Gamma Vered III is quite large, with a mass of 0.80 Earths and a radius of 0.75 Earths. Its orbit falls into the habitable zone of its star. Gamma Vered III has a stable atmosphere which is composed of mostly Nitrogen and Oxygen, with trace amounts of other gases. Its surface is covered with considerable amounts of liquid water. This planet is classified as class M, and is readily habitable by humans.

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C1.D - Gamma Vered IV - This planet is a small gas giant with reddish-orange tint. It has a mass of 42 Earths. It has for major satellites, designated Gamma Vered 2a through 2d, the largest of which, Gamma Vered 2c has a mass of 0.86 Earths. All satellites are tidally locked to the gas giant, and so experience a sidereal rotation period equal to the orbital period around the gas giant.

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C1.D.a - Gamma Vered IVa

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C1.D.b - Gamma Vered IVb

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C1.D.c - Gamma Vered IVc - This is the largest moon in orbit around Gamma Vered IV. It has a mass of 0.86 Earths, and thus is able to maintain a thin atmosphere, which is composed mostly of Argon, Oxygen and Carbon Dioxide. It has an orbit that sits on the edge of its planet's radiation belt and Gamma Vered IV sits at the edge of the stars habitable zone. As a result, this moon is classified as class L, marginal, and is capable of supporting human life.

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C1.D.d - Gamma Vered IVd

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C1.E - Gamma Vered V - This planet is moderately sized, with a mass of 0.75 Earths and a radius of 0.6 Earths. It orbits outside its star's habitable zone and has an average surface temperature of -120 C. It maintains a very cold atmosphere consisting of Nitrogen, Methane, Argon and Carbon Dioxide, and its surface is covered almost entirely with water ice. As a result, it is classified as class P, glaciated.

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C2) Epsilon Vered

Epsilon Vered is classified as a K1V class star. It has a temperature of 4800 K, a mass of 0.88 Sol a radius of 1.02 Sol, and a rotation period of 17 days. It is not variable and electromagnetically stable, for a star of its type.

Epsilon Vered is part of a trinary star system. Its closest partner, Lambda Vered, is the second dimmest member of the Vered Cluster and orbits at a distance of 23 AU, or a little farther than Uranus is from its star. The third partner, Gamma Vered, orbits at an average distance of 213 AU.

Epsilon Vered has four major planetary bodies that are in orbit of it, designated Epsilon Vered I, II, III and IV, and have an orbital distance of 0.43 AU, 0.67 AU, 0.72 AU and 1.43 AU, respectively. All are terrestrial planets. This star is also surrounded by an asteroid belt at a distance of 4.3 AU, which is most likely a failed planet that was ripped apart by the gravitational interaction with Lambda Vered system.

C2. A - Epsilon Vered I - This planet is small, with a mass of 0.049 Earths and a radius of 0.363 Earths. It is too small and is too close to its star to maintain an atmosphere. Thus, it is classified as class B, geomorteus, and has geology similar to that of Mercury.

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C2. B - Epsilon Vered II - This planet is quite large, with a mass of 0.92 Earths and a radius of 1.01 Earths. Its orbit falls into the habitable zone of its star. Epsilon Vered II has a stable atmosphere which is composed of mostly Nitrogen and Oxygen, with trace amounts of Argon and Carbon Dioxide. It has an average surface temperature of 16 C, and its surface is covered with considerable amounts of liquid water. This planet is classified as class M, and is readily habitable by humans.

Approximately 82% of the surface is covered with water, 16% with land and 2% with ice, centered on the planets poles. The land mass is organized into thirteen small continents.

Epsilon Vered II has a sidereal rotation period of 18.7 hours, and therefore spins faster than Earth. Its atmosphere is slightly thinner, and maintains a less effect greenhouse system than Earth does. As a result, the days get quite hot, but the nights get quite cold. This, coupled with the larger Coriolis forces creates severe wind patterns on the planet's surface.

During the day, winds blow in from the seas onto the land masses, driven by the cooler, higher pressure air that sits atop the oceans. At night, as the land cools back down, these winds shift direction and blow back out to the seas, whose top air is now warmer and of lower pressure. These winds have an average speed of 65 kph, with gusts up to 120 kph.

Epsilon Vered II has an axial tilt of 8 degrees, and therefore experiences only very mild seasons.

Epsilon Vered II has no known satellites.

Please see attached geological report for more information on this planet's geological and climatological systems.

C2. C - Epsilon Vered III - This planet is quite large, with a mass of 0.88 Earths and a radius of 0.95 Earths. Its orbit falls into the habitable zone of its star. Epsilon Vered III has a stable atmosphere which is composed of mostly Nitrogen and Oxygen, a small amount of Carbon Dioxide and trace amounts of Argon and Neon. It has an average surface temperature of 22 C, and its surface is covered with considerable amounts of liquid water. This planet is classified as class M, and is readily habitable by humans.

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C2. D - Epsilon Vered IV - This planet is of average size, with a mass of 0.55 Earths and a radius of 0.75 Earths. It is on the far edge of its stars habitable zone, but does maintain an atmosphere, composed mostly of Nitrogen and Carbon Dioxide, with trace amounts of Argon. It has an average surface temperature of -30 C, and its surface is covered with considerable amounts of water ice. This planet is classified as class K, adaptable, and has geology similar to Mars.

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C3) Lambda Vered

Lambda Vered is classified as a M9V class star. It has a temperature of 2550 K, a mass of 0.45 Sol a radius of 0.07 Sol, and a rotation period of 43 days. It is not variable and electromagnetically stable, for a star of its type.

Lambda Vered is part of a trinary star system. It orbits its larger partner, Epsilon Vered, at a distance of 23 AU, or a little farther than Uranus is from its star. The third partner, Gamma Vered, orbits at an average distance of 213 AU.

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D) Delta Vered

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E1) Zeta Vered

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E2) Eta Vered

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F) Theta Vered

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G) Iota Vered

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H) Kappa Vered

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V - Departmental Alerts

There are no significant alerts to specific departments. The reflection nebula with create a small amount of interference with radio communications and low frequency EM sensors, but nothing that will impede ship's functions.

Crewman Sneden has written a program that will compensate for the nebular emissions in communications and sensor readings. This program, and information about its function and parameters will be forwarded to the relevent departments in a separate report.

Incoming Tide

Will Lysander: Assistant Mining Operations Director - LV 427 (Brass Monkey), Gamma Vered IVc

**** LV 427 - Mining Operations Building ****

"Morning Will," called out Knute Simpson to his assistant as he entered the Operations Centre of the Brass Monkey Mining Colony.

Will looked up from the over padded executive chair that faced the wall of screens, showing scenes of mining equipment and miners digging out the crystalline latinum that was sold to the de Beers Group. Other scenes showed the raw crystalline latinum being processed and being turned into it's pure liquid form. On another screen showing armed guards in view, their expressions very serious, a machine added tiny amounts of rhenium and tantalum in the latinum, to identify that the latinum was from Brass Monkey.

As he watched his boss come in, Will just nodded - "Still cold outside?"

Brass Monkey was a desolate moon, just on the edge of the biozone of the stellar primary for the system, Gamma Vered - the sky was a perpetual grey of cloud and the wind continued to blow from the day side to the night side of the tide locked satellite of the huge gas giant that was a vague shape of colour through the clouds. The atmosphere was thin, but breathable - but nothing about Brass Monkey was comfortable.

"Nope, I think we've got that heat wave that Meteorology said was coming in - must be all of zero outside. Christ, I'll be glad when they get the climate fields back up. I won't have to worry about the cold suits," returned Knute. "What came in from Terra, last shift? Oh, Gerri invites you and Inidria to dinner tonight"

Will nodded, "Love to," as he got up from the seat, as Knute sat heavily down into it, "As to communications, the usual waste of electrons. There was an encoded message for you, but I've got an idea of what it might say. There is also a message for you from the Vered Colony Council."

"Yeah?" returned the suspicious Knute, from Terra and VCC at the same time - that meant trouble.

Will nodded as he reached out and tapped a screen control, the FNN symbol appeared on the screen, with a voice over of a female voice saying "Up to the minute news - thirteenth of November, twenty three eighty four at 0300 Earth G M T," as the text slowly appeared and faded on the screen.

The screen changed to the huge Federation Council Building in Geneva as the female voice continued, "Top of the summary is the order of the Federation Council for a mass evacuation of the Vered Cluster of Colonies. It is understood that the council has ordered Starfleet to send in one of the giants - Daren M'Kantu and the USS Galaxy in helping in with the co-ordination and security of the operation." The screen showed the Galaxy in port of one of the Federations Deep Space Stations.

"With the recent clashes with the Hydrans which are not far from the colonies, grave concerns are held for the colonists and their lives, with the displays of open aggression from the Hydran Kingdom."

"The Vered Colonies have been a bone of contention between the Dreshayans, who govern that area of space and the Federation. The Dreshayans have always claim that area of space it's own, and was part of a wider empire from long ago. While a number of archaeological sites have confirmed the existence of a society a millenia or more ago, there has been nothing to suggest that the ancient society had any contact with the Dreshayans or they a part if it at all..." Knute's face began to show comprehension and then started to darken.

After Will had stopped the file, he watched as Knute listened to the encoded message from de Beers on Terra and from the VCC, Knute's face just darkened even more. With that look on his bosses' face, Will was right...there was going to be an uproar.

"More then twenty fucking years - I've worked my arse off. I've got over a million credits in this venture, everything I fucking well own..."

Will just watched as Knute started to rant, he was thinking the same thoughts, since he saw the file a couple of hours ago. He'd had the chance to cool down...but take Knute reactions and multiply by a hundred times - because there were going to be over a hundred miners feeling the same thing.

While the mining colony was a part of the de Beers Group, it was a corporation owned by the people who worked on the mines and kept it going. Everyone of them had money on the colony. Money that would have in a little over five years time would have brought in massive returns. Everyone here would have been multi-millionaires. Will could have returned to New Paris, with more money than his father had ever dreamed of, and it would have been a simple pleasure to stuff that down his old man's throat for denying him any access to the Lysander Family money.

"What does Leuwen say," Will started...

"de Beers have dropped us like a fucking hot potato - they won't be giving us any support at all. They lose a bit of revenue - we lose everything. 'We are sorry that we are unable to provide any assistance at this time.' We are officially on our own," returned Knute.

"What about the VCC?" Will asked.

"Standard bullshit about cooperating with Stafleet and t