Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Proud Legion ❯ Road ( Chapter 2 )

Proud Legion
By: bsmart

Disclaimer: Rated R for the good stuff, you’ve been warned. I don’t own Trek, but the people who do probably shouldn’t either.

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

Chapter 2: Road

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

̶ 0;Have we identified the last agent?”

In the dark room the speaker’s features were hidden beneath the hood of his rain cape. Outside rain was falling hard enough to make the metal roof of the warehouse rumble but he would have worn the cape anyways. Even with his features hidden and his normally raspy voice altered everyone at the table knew the identity of their fellow conspirators.

“We have, and we’ve begun surveillance, in a three or four weeks we’ll know her habits and be ready.”

A smaller form, a female one stood from her seat and placed her hands on the table, leaning forward enough that the light overhead began to illuminate her features. “Three or four weeks!? We don’t have that kind of time!”

He folded his hands behind his back; even with what they were plotting the conspirators were still a group of politicians and businessmen at heart. Most of them anyways, there were a few military men like him on the council, though they had been discerning enough to avoid becoming the spymaster of this little plot. “Actually we do, the pieces won’t be in place for another month and the event won’t happen for at least a week after that. We’ll be ready ahead of time.”

“And this is the last operative?” The first man asked, trying to appear nonchalant by resting his hands on his impressive girth.

“That we know of, yes.”

“Know of? What do you mean know of?” The woman demanded again, with two other conspirators raising their voices to join hers.

“I mean just that, the ones we know of.”

“You mean there may be others?” one of the woman’s supporters piped in.

He tried his hardest not of show any reaction, glad his own cape hid his exasperated expression. “Of course, these are simply the agents we know of, there may be others that we don’t know of. In fact there are certainly others we don’t know of yet and that’s not including the sleepers.”

The assembled crowed broke out in a clamor of voices as half the conspirators were thrown into an uproar. He wasn’t surprised by it, or who was part of it. A quick scan of the crowed confirmed that the ones that mattered were quietly accepting the news, military men, a few of the more intelligent politicians, and the cut-throat business men who’d risen to the top of their fields in a place where “cut-throat” was more than just a colorful description. Unfortunately they needed the rest of the conclave to move their plans forward.

Once again the woman took the forefront, as she had so many times before. If she hadn’t been in charge of one of the largest news distributors in this sector they never would have bothered with her. He wasn’t even really sure why they had, her contentiousness, she seemed to disagree for the shear joy of it, had caused so many delays that their margin of error was already gone. “This is unacceptable; we need to identify ALL opposing agents before this can proceed. The disruption they could cause would be disastrous!”

He knew that what was truly unacceptable was that once they moved all their lives would quickly be in jeopardy and the odds of several of them being assassinated were almost certain. In fact a few of his junior officers had a betting pool going. He even had a little money riding on her untimely death, though it was less of a sound financial decision and more a bit of wishful thinking. “Identifying every enemy agent is impossible; we have located every one that we reasonably can.”

“Are you trying to tell me we should be happy at you’ve done all you reasonably can?!”

“Given that some enemy agents might not even realize they are agents, or might even think they’re working for us, yes.”

“WHAT!?”

“I’ve seen it before, they’ll employ someone posing as a rival company, for a little extra money they’ll dupe someone into what they think is just a little industrial espionage, maybe even sabotage, all the while having no idea who they’re really working for. I’ve even seen them pose as members of groups like this and trick others into spying on their leaders simply as a way of providing checks and balances,” a few people suddenly twitched and he noted them for proper, treatment, later on. Others were looking apprehensive, nervous even, and that was good. He’d studied to0 many failed plots like this that had collapsed simply because the plotters had thought themselves invincible, a little fear would keep them all on edge, more attentive, less likely to make mistakes. It also made them more reliant upon him, which meant they were less likely to notice or object while he carved his own little piece of the pie out. “There’s simply no way to root out every security risk and ever move forward…”

The woman looked to be ready to start another contrarian tirade but he ignored her.

“…In fact a little anarchy, a little disruption, a touch of chaos is a good thing. Our goal has never been to remove every single agent, but simply to remove as many as possible so that what ever trouble the remaining ones might cause is both beneficial and manageable.”

The portly man sat up straighter and leaned forward, clearly taking charge of the discussion again.

“Regardless of the risks we’re on a fixed time table and too far in to affect any changes. We will proceed as planned. We are adjourned.”

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

&# 8220;This salad is quite good captain.”

Timothy smiled; drawing praise from Vulcans was always something to celebrate. “Thank you Senator, I made it myself.”

“What did you call these fruits?”

“Avocado and red grapefruit, I’m surprised no one has introduced you to them during your stay on Earth.”

“Most functions have provided somewhat blander fair in the interests of accommodating many varied cultures, tastes, and body chemistries.”

“Did you make the dressing as well,” Bella said as she plucked up another green slice topped with grapefruit and rubbed it in the dressing.

“I made everything by hand.”

“Impressive,” the senator said.

Timothy grinned and dismissively waved his hand. “Not really, all I did was slice up the fruit, juice a few lemons and whip some stuff together, it’s actually very easy to make. I tell you what, I’ll contact my supplier, have him send a few of each tree over to the consulate on Earth.”

“That would be most appreciated.”

“Think nothing of it, you really must have this dish with fresh fruit, the replicators are fantastic but they just don’t manage to capture something about the flavor of this properly.”

“I thought replicators were perfect?” Bella asked.

Timothy shrugged. “Supposedly, but if you ask me there’s just something about fresh food properly prepared that they can’t capture in my opinion.”

“So this is fresh?” Bella asked.

Timothy grinned, “Captains privilege, I have my own little corner of the airponics bay.” and with that he stood and went to retrieve the next course from the cart he’d used to bring it down. The cook and stewards hadn’t been happy about him making his own food and even serving it in this case but they’d have to get used to that. He enjoyed cooking from time to time and he wasn’t about to give that up, and he didn’t want the stewards at this meal, he wanted something more informal. The next course was quickly handed out and he took his seat back at the head of the table. “Up next, sweet teriyaki grilled mahi mahi.”

“This smells delicious,” Bella said as she inhaled the heady aroma.

“Captain… I do not eat meat.”

Timothy gave the senator his most reassuring smile. “Of course Senator, it’s tofu. Thankfully the ship's chef knew some tricks to make it flake properly and absorb the flavors.”

T’prin nodded silently and took a small bite. “This is, very bold.”

“Well I couldn’t image it being bland; I used enough sauce making it to float a boat.” Timothy smirked until both women stared at him blankly. “Ahem, old Earth expression, I umm, used a lot of sauce.”

“I believe I would enjoy seeing the galley where this was prepared,” the Senator said as she cut off another piece to eat.

“Yes, and speaking of sightseeing,” Bella sipped her wine and set the glass down, "I was wondering if I could see some of your people in action.”

“In action?”

“Yes, in action. The tour was nice captain but I saw mostly empty halls, surely your people do something exciting to pass the time.” Bella smiled disarmingly and not for the first time Timothy noticed that her clothing was on the daring and risqué side of casual.

He had seen her tight knee length black skirt when he’d led her in and her bright blue halter top hung loose enough to make the primitive side of his brain hope she’d lean forward in just the right way. She wasn’t being terribly subtle in her attempts to manipulate him which wasn’t a surprise. From what he’d seen and read of her she seemed to prefer short, direct, confrontational approaches to dealing with her subjects, which made him wonder why she was here for such a long stay. “Well, lieutenant commander Peili’s marines will be commencing drills immediately, those should be interesting. We’ll also be conducting drills for the whole ship, battle, damage control, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, that would be perfect,” she smiled. “I don’t suppose I could arrange another tour could I?”

“I’m sure we can work something out, Lieutenant Bell…”

“I was hoping you could give it to me.”

Timothy fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sure I can find the time. Senator, how are you enjoying your stay?”

T’prin swallowed the mouthful of greens she’d been eating and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “The accommodations are excellent, precisely what I would expect from Starfleet.”

“We do our best. I can’t imagine that you’re going to find this trip very interesting.”

“On the contrary captain, I have already found it to be very enlightening.”

Timothy pushed his empty plate away from him and relaxed in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Three hours of observation is superior to three years of speculation.”

“Who said that, Surak?” Bella asked.

“T’prin,” the senator answered.

Timothy kept his chuckle to himself. “And what have you observed so far?”

“A well built ship with a competent crew who seem to be acutely aware of the scrutiny they are under and the responsibility they bear.” T’prin’s eyes moved from his to look off at something to the side. “Though I am learning some things about the captain that are, interesting.”

Timothy didn’t need to turn to know what she was looking at. Gathering his wine glass in his hand he stood up and walked around the table, past his fish tank that served as a dividing wall and out into his living area. The senator’s eyes had rather purposefully looked at the plaque on his wall. He considered it for a moment before asking, “And what would that thing be?”

“He is someone who takes pride in the battles they have fought,” her voice lowered slightly, “the lives he has taken.”

Timothy sipped from his glass as his eyes absently roamed over the plaque, his mind’s eye recalling each and every ship on it. “And?”

“Is that something to be proud of?”

Timothy stared at the plaque, “Yes.”

“May I ask why?”

“My ship, my crew, they stood in front of an onrushing horde and stopped them. We fought hard, for months on end, long past the time we should have given up and collapsed from exhaustion. We survived battles we had no place surviving. We defeated enemies bent on our own destruction,” he turned to look at both women, “and yours. So pardon me if I take some pride in that.”

For a long moment no one said anything, Bella looked particularly uncomfortable until the senator stabbed her last piece of tofu with her fork, soaked up some of the glaze and ate it. “The sauce was exceptional.”

Timothy smiled and nodded. “Thank you, shall we have dessert?”

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

“ ;And you can guarantee that it will last long enough?”

“I can’t even guarantee that it will happen at all.”

“We planned all this based on your assurances that this would happen!”

“I said I can’t guarantee it, you can never be one hundred percent certain about things like this, ever. All our data leads to the conclusion that it is likely to happen however.”

“The computer models you showed the….”

“Pretty pictures based on nothing more than assumptions and conjecture; like all computer models are.”

The spymaster ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. He felt no need to hide his face, he only did in the conclave meetings because it was tradition, and standing out in a crowd was something he didn’t like to do. “This entire operation is based off your research and you’re telling me you’re guessing?!”

“All science is a guess until you can actually observe something happen.” Rail thin and more than a head taller than his fellow, and not exactly short, conspirator the scientist was a youngster in the normally elderly science community, he’d made headway in his chosen field by being absolutely brilliant. He would have regretted some of the things he’d said to the cabal if there might have been some other way to get them to move. He sat down on one of the stools surrounding a holotable where one of their simulations was running.

“We’re risking our lives on your guess,” the spymaster said, partly for his own benefit but also to remind the scientist of the risks.

“And I’m risking my own life and the lives of my family whom I hold in much higher regard than anyone else involved in this.” He sighed and slumped back against the table. Hovering over it a small twisting knot of brightly colored lines writhed. “It’s a guess, but it’s a very, very good one. Our sensors have already detected the instability beginning to form.”

The spymaster’s eyes widened. “Already?”

“Yes, somewhat to our surprise.”

“Well now that you’re observing something can you give me any guarantees?”

“No,” the scientist said, enjoying goading his compatriot a little. The man looked like he was on the verge of another outburst when he said, “However the observations have allowed us to refine our models somewhat. Continued observation will let us improve them even further.”

“And what do these say?”

“That it’s very likely to last more than a week, you’ll have your time.”

“Excellent.”

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

The second time Timothy walked into a full staff meeting he was pleased to see that everyone immediately took their seats and quieted down. He quietly sat his coffee on the table and took his seat, setting out two large PADDs in front of him reaching for his mug to take a sip. At the far end of the conference room he could see the Senator sitting at the conference table with her aide sitting on a stool behind her.

Terzi smirked as her captain took his seat and allowed them to sit in silence for a moment. Timothy had always been more laid back than other captains she’d served under but for some reason he didn’t tolerate any laxness in staff meetings. Pulling her toes up the tiny Elysian let her legs swing freely under her chair. She hoped that the new crew would learn the routine quickly because Captain Hayes didn’t tolerate deviations very well. A small smile graced her lips as she thought of someone so young already so set in his ways. She glanced across the table at her Capellan friend and caught his ruddy face smiling back at her, they were used to it.

When he sat down his mug Timothy nodded, “Good to see everyone is here, let’s get this started.” He tilted his head towards his first officer. “Commander?”

“Yes sir,” Johan said as he unfolded his lanky frame from his seat and stood. He picked up a PADD of his own and tapped the controls, dimming the windows that gazed out the back of the bridge module and causing the holoemitters in the room to create a large view screen in mid air in front of the ship’s display case. He moved around to stand beside the screen and gave everyone a chance to turn their chairs to see it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Romulan Star Empire,” On the screen a map of the galaxy zoomed in rapidly to the small area where the borders of the Alpha and Beta quadrants met and most of the space known to the Federation resided. The colored map zoomed in even farther, cutting out the other powers surrounding the Federation and focusing on the emerald green space of the Romulans and the thin red line of the Neutral Zone that separated it from the pale blue territory of the Federation. Briefings like this were one of Johan’s more enjoyable duties and he liked to bring visual aides to them. He knew his commander and the fastest way to lose him would be a dry boring speech, not that his commander didn’t know everything he was about to detail, but Johan wanted to keep him interested while everyone else was brought up to speed. It would help Timothy’s stature and his own if his captain was paying rapt attention to the briefing rather than reading a PADD and tuning everything out.

“In recent years the Romulan Empire has experienced a total leadership decapitation and rebound. In his ascension to power Shinzon first eliminated the whole of the Romulan senate with a tholaron bomb. After this assassination he started a short lived but thorough program that resulted in the elimination of many prominent military and civilian leaders throughout the Empire. Following his death at the hands of Admiral, then Captain, Picard the Romulan Empire was left with a total power vacuum. Shinzon’s predations had eliminated anyone with a clear line of succession to the Senate in order to remove challenges to his own power.”

On the screen the Empire fractured from an emerald green whole into dozens of small territories. “Immediately following his death the Empire fell apart. With no strong central leadership every sector administrator or ambitious admiral carved out their own little kingdom. There was surprisingly little direct conflict in this time, most of the competition took the form of alliances, back alley deals, and outright assassination.” The various small entities that the Empire had dissolved into began to merge together on the display. “Over the course of about eighteen months things sorted themselves out until a little more than twenty major powers remained. Of these remaining powers fifteen allied themselves together and their leaders declared themselves to be the new Senate of the Romulan Empire.” The fifteen largest territories on the screen merged together and once again the emerald green Empire graced the display.

“Since that time the reformed Empire has engaged in a campaign, both political and military, to return the rest of the independent areas to their control. They’ve been largely successful and as of right now there are only a handful of small areas on the far side of the Empire that remain to be reintegrated.”

Johan took a long pause and Cesina spoke up. “It looks like it was a rather civilized civil war.”

“By most standards it was, by Romulan standards it was a political holocaust. There was little direct military conflict but the political situation worsened. The Romulan Empire now has a Senate again but little else in the way of government. Virtually every office from planetary governor on up has been in flux, most of the old guard has either been wiped out or their powerbases have. The politicians now in place don’t have the experience or connections and they certainly haven’t even begun to create the network of favors and allegiances that used to exist. Forming them up again is almost impossible as the appointees are shuffled around looking for the best place for them.” Johan began to pace. “The end result of this is that the Senate exists but has no dependable way to enforce its will short of the military.”

“We now find ourselves looking at a second Romulan civil war, but instead of a fight between the established powers this is an ideological fight. Every social group, special interest group, and even plain old terrorists, that felt the old regime wronged them are being emboldened by the disconnect between and the rest of the Empire. Our agents in place are already reporting rioting, protests, anti-government rallies, and more than a couple of terrorist bombings. Things that would have been completely unthinkable a decade ago are becoming common place, and its got the Senate worried, very worried.”

Timothy set his coffee down. “Where is the Tal’Shiar in all this? Shouldn’t they be going into overdrive, stomping this out?”

“The Tal’Shiar underwent its own microcosm of what the Empire went through. Internal ambitions sprang forth after Shinzon wiped out the leadership of the Tal’Shiar and they spent as much time going after each other as looking after the Empire. The Senate managed to rein things in but the Tal’Shiar is devoting as much time to monitoring itself as the rest of the Empire. The unreliableness of the Tal’Shiar is a major reason why the Senate is so worried. That worry is why we’re here.” Johan reached the end of the conference table and turned around.

“We’re here because the Romulan Senate is worried?” Harry asked.

“Yes, we are. The Senate is convinced that they barely have the Empire under control and right now things seem to be getting worse, because of this they have begun to entertain some ideas that we would like to discourage.”

“Like?” Harry prodded.

“A war.” Johan paused to let his words sink in. “Right now the only thing the Senate has a firm grip on is the military and we know that the military has the ear of the Senate because of this. The Romulan military thinks that they can solve most of the problems confronting the Empire with a limited war with the Federation lasting for six months to a year.”

Terzi threw up her arms. “That’s insane, a war? We've both just now gotten our feet back under us after fighting the Dominion."

Timothy mulled it over before he spoke softly, “It actually makes a lot of sense.”

“How could that make sense? Millions dying just so they can stay in power,” Terzi couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The sharp straight lines of her eyebrows knitting together in a tight V over her eyes. Combined with her heavy brow it gave the Elysian a very aggressive appearance totally out of sorts with her tiny body.

“Well first off you can make the argument that if the Empire collapses billions could die in the ensuing chaos, and sacrificing a few million to save a few billion is a trade most people would be willing to make. Second, we have to be realistic and admit that this is not the Federation we’re talking about, they don’t necessarily have our values and to them a few million deaths among the peasants could be a small price to pay to remaining in power.”

The conference room was filled with murmurs as the assembled officers made comments to themselves or their neighbors. Timothy stood up and made his way to the display when Johan pointedly looked at him. “And that is precisely why we’re going to patrol the border. The Romulans don’t want a war with the Klingons; they’re just too unpredictable which means us. We’re going to the border to discourage them.”

“What about the Breen or Cardassians?” Peili asked, spreading her hands.

Johan stepped into answer her question. “If the Romulans got into a shooting war with either of them they’d have to either cross Federation space or go the long way around. At the very least they’d have to conduct it across the only anti-spinward corridor into the Beta quadrant the Federation has left. They know that we’ll poke our noses into things if that starts to happen which won’t help them at all. No, a direct attack on the Federation is their best bet.”

“And their relations with us? What about Ambassador Spock?” Harry asked.

“They don’t much care for us Mr. Kim, never have.” Timothy said. “They’ve considered themselves to be in a cold war with us for the last two centuries, even if they really piss us off it’s just the status-quo to them. Most of the people the Ambassador were speaking to are now buried in unmarked graves.”

“That’s Starfleet Intel’s read of the situation. Things are especially volatile right now as there are serious concerns that a rogue admiral or even over-zealous right wing group could seek to start this conflict without the Senate’s approval.” Johan said as the display behind him changed to show off a ship familiar to everyone at the table.

“Based off this I’d just like to give everyone a quick run down of our likely opponents should something get started out there. This,” he said as he gestured to the holographic display, “is a D'deridex class Romulan warbird, the staple of their fleet for the last thirty years. As we all know the Romulans prefer an all big guns navy focusing exclusively on producing what we would term heavy cruiser designs. The D’deridex was the pride of the Romulan fleet until encounters with the U.S.S. Enterprise D made them realize that they were falling behind the technological curve. The Galaxy class, even with all its non-combat functions was able to take on a dedicated warship like the D'deridex one on one and win. Soon after those first encounters the Romulans initiated a program to develop a new class of warbirds called the Norexans.”

The display screen shifted to display the newest Romulan warbird. Long and lean the Norexan class was a far cry from the airy bulk of the D’deridex class. Technical details of the design started to scroll across the screen and in one corner pictures and video of the design that had been acquired began to display. “The Norexans are a quantum leap beyond the D’deridexes, such a leap that it took them more than fifteen years to get all the kinks worked out. A few production models were completed towards the end of the Dominion War but as far as we can tell they never saw combat.”

The screen was wiped clean and replaced with a set of sensor logs, two Norexans and a Federation Sovereign class were engaging another far larger warship. “We did however get to see them in combat during the Enterprise’s ill fated mission to The results were impressive.”

“One was destroyed and the other disabled, quickly,” Cesina pointed out, both her antennae pointing forward.

“True,” Johan said, “but given the nature of the engagement they accounted well for themselves. I won’t bore you with the exact criteria used to arrive at this conclusion, it’s all contained in the files you’ll have access too, but the Norexans are easily twice the ships the D’deridexes are, and almost on par with the uprated Sovereigns. They lose a little durability, but they are very maneuverable. Starfleet Intel has confirmed that all D’deridex production orders have been canceled in favor of Norexans. The last few ship yards are completing the final D’deridexes that were in the pipeline and will be converting full scale Norexan production soon.”

“How many do they have now?” Timothy asked.

“Approximately one hundred and twenty, with more being added even as we speak. We expect production to peak at around fifty vessels a year in about four years.”

“That’s a lot of ships,” Harry said with concern lining his normally youthful face.

“They’re replacing their entire fleet?” Timothy asked.

Johan nodded in agreement, “Right now the Romulans seem to be planning to replace every D’deridex with a Norexan, and expand the fleet even more.”

“Expand it?” Deekan asked.

“Yes, we believe that this is as much an economic as a military project.”

“Economic?” Harry asked.

“Economic. That’s a lot of ships which means a lot of money. The Romulans are going to spend themselves into a hole but the pay off will be a tremendous economic boost for the Empire and more money in the people’s pockets means they’re less likely to think about a revolt. It’s been done before, the twentieth century Earth nation of the United States, twenty second century Andoria, and it works rather well if you can handle the debt afterwards.” Timothy sipped his coffee, “As the Ferengi say, ‘It takes money to make money.’”

“What about the Scimitar, does it appear that class will be going into production?” Deekan asked.

“Short answer, no. The Scimitar was built around the Tholaron radiation weapon; it was an intimate part of the design. If the weapon is removed it will require a serious redesign of the vessel, practically a new one. It will also require new shipyards to be built, they can convert existing D’deridex lines into Norexan lines without too serious a conversion but a Scimitar sized vessel would require all new production facilities. We believe the Norexan project has a high enough priority that they wouldn’t invest the resources in something larger at this time.” Johan shook his head, “No, the Scimitar was Shinzon’s pet project, it died with him.”

“Well that’s something at least,” Harry said.

Johan nodded and switched the display back over to the display of the Romulan Empire. He zoomed in on a long section of the border with the Federation and tactical symbols began to pop up all along the border. “The Task Force will be responsible for patrolling sectors 791, 792, and 884. Patrol will consist primarily of the Task Force breaking down into battle groups and puttering around their own sector."

"Puttering around?" Senator T'prin asked levelly with both arms hidden in her sleeves.

"Puttering," Johan confirmed. "Stopping over at outposts to show the flag, paying visits to the local planets, conducting a few battle simulations, and scanning the neutral zone. Puttering."

"Ah, puttering." T'prin replied. If Johan didn't know any better he'd have sworn he saw a small smile crease the corner of the senator's mouth.

"Our primary goal is simply to be seen," Johan said. "To let the Romulans know that we know they are up to something and to show them our ships and that we have no intention of backing down."

"Such a display could raise tensions and precipitate the very war we are seeking to avoid."

Those that had been with him for a time could see the slight down turn in the corner of Timothy's mouth. The middle of a briefing was not the time for policy debate as far as he was concerned. "Doing nothing could be interpreted as a sign of weakness or even arrogance. Doing nothing is even more likely to precipitate a war Senator."

"In your interpretation."

Now even those new to the room could see the annoyance on Timothy's face. "In my interpretation and in the interpretation of Starfleet Command, if you take issue with this perhaps you should address your concerns to the appropriate authority."

"I already have," the senator said primly.

"And?"

"You and your ship are on course for the Neutral Zone. I think the outcome of my petition is obvious."

Timothy did his best to hide his smirk. "Then this is a discussion best left for another time." The Senator had been slapped down by Starfleet Command. That was something Timothy had known. He hadn't expected her to try and throw her weight around in his briefing room though. In his opinion you could say what you wanted about Vulcans and their lack of emotion, but they were the most arrogant people he'd ever met.

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

“ Come on, you’ll like it.”

Timothy followed his first officer as they walked along the main corridor of deck three. The deck usually referred to as “Officer Country” because most of the ship’s senior crew had their quarters on it along with the officer’s mess. “The last time you said that to me we spent the night in a Risan jail with me trying to sweet talk our captain into bailing us out.” Timothy took a sip of the water he'd gotten from the mess on the way here and tried to imagine what Johan was going to get him into.

“Well you’re the captain now, problem solved.”

“We’re gonna have to work on you learning how to determine what the point really is Jo.” Johan kept on walking until they came to the Timothy’s own quarters. “And you’ve brought me back to my own quarters why?”

“You’ll see,” Johan said as they stepped inside. “Have a seat.”

Timothy flopped down into the large leather recliner he kept in this common area and waited. "I'm gonna regret this."

"No more than you usually do," Johan said. "Computer, activate program cabin girl seventy seven charlie."

"Oh lord," Timothy groaned. It wasn't as bad as he'd been dreading however, not good but not as awful as it could have been coming from Johan. "Are you kidding me?"

The form that had materialized in front of him was that of a young woman in a Starfleet uniform. Only the uniform was of the twenty two hundred's vintage with a skirt that barely covered anything. The girl herself looked to barely be old enough to entering the academy, much less having graduated. She was Johan's type, tall, leggy, busty, and with hair a shade of blonde that necessitated alien genes or aggressive chemical treatment.

"Good morning commander, how may I..." the holographic woman looked him up and down, "serve you?" The wicked glint in her eye made her intentions clear, or at least the intentions of her creator.

"Johan..."

"Oh cool your thrusters," Johan said as he rolled his eyes. "Computer, cycle appearances."

The leggy blonde faded away instantly to be replaced by a less ridiculously proportioned brunette, she kept the uniform though. A few seconds later the brunette disappeared for a dark skinned girl with short curly hair. Seconds later she changed again. "Tell me if you see something you like." The hologram kept on flipping appearances.

"Come on Johan, honestly?" He took a sip of his water...

"Damn you're hard to please. Cycle appearance subset three alpha authorization code mu seventy seven gamma."

...and promptly spit it out. The hologram had shifted to a perfect physical copy of 7 of 9, complete with the old style uniform. The warm smile on her face seemed out of place given his experiences with the woman. Before he could even protest she shifted again to lt. Commander Peili. "Damn it Johan what the hell!?"

"You gotta admit, in that skirt, mmm baby. They used to know how to make a uniform."

"Seriously, stop it. Computer end program." The holographic girl dissolved leaving the two friends alone again.

"Who jammed a stick up your ass Tim?"

"Starfleet did damn it! Come on Jo, you know better than this."

Johan rolled his eyes at his friend. "Lighten up Tim, I know the regs. Their physical templates were already in the system for Peili's training simulations, I just borrowed them." He walked over to the wall terminal by the door and started to enter something. "Besides, I'm not serious about those; I know you'd never go for them. In public anyways."

Timothy let his friend's snarky comment slip by.

"What I am serious about is getting you some help. You might not rate an aide like a full admiral but you've got an even larger work load with the whole task force to sheppard and this ship. Besides, with the proper programming and a little creativity," Johan tapped a final sequence of commands in and a new woman materialized. "A holographic aide can be almost as useful."

"And anything a hologram can do the computer can to."

Johan shook his head, "But where's the fun in that?"

Unlike the previous few holographic characters Johan had conjured up the new girl was wearing a proper SDF uniform that fit her rather than being sprayed on. A few centimeters below average height, her curly red hair framed a cute freckled face. The smile she had seemed earnest rather than suggestive and a large data PADD was clutched in her hands. "Good afternoon sir, how can I help," she asked cheerfully.

"Can she get a cup of coffee?"

Johan beamed, "Yes sir, she knows just how much coffee you like in your milk."

"You're still a jackass."

"Aye aye sir."

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

"Cover that doorway to port! Lay down some suppressing fire; don't let them poke their heads up!" Peili snapped before she brought her carbine up and cut loose a burst of phaser pulses down the hallway. The enhanced compression rifle bucked in her grip, ejecting the pulses with enough force to generate some actual recoil. Down the hall the pulses impacted the stanchion a Romulan was hiding behind. Each impact spattering molten duranium across the ship's passageway. She tried to press herself farther back into the doorway she was using as cover but there was only so far she could go and still be able to shoot.

Two Romulans poked their heads out of the doorway she'd just ordered to be covered and they snapped off several shots in rapid succession before ducking back into the doorway. Most of the sickly green beams dissipated harmlessly against the bulkheads but one struck corporal Degneis in the chest. The Tellerite howled as the beam ate at his chest, disassociating the atoms that made up his uniform, skin and eventually organs. Peili didn't watch the corporal go down; she'd seen similar wounds and knew he was as good as dead. "I said suppress damn it!"

The private Jobyn next to her finally got his heavy repeater situated to his liking and let loose a roaring burst down the hall towards the doorway. Normally used only in land engagements each bolt fired from the weapon melted out craters in the hallways of the ship. Given enough time it would just chew its way through the Romulan's cover until it found them. Which seemed to be exactly what he was trying to do.

"The whole hallway, the whole HALLWAY! Bear left!"

Her order and her suppressing fire didn't come fast enough and the Romulan she'd made to duck seconds before emerged long enough to get off a shot and so did several of his compatriots. Peili heard another pair of screams as two more of her team were hit but her attention was entirely focused on the grenade arching towards her. Jobyn yelped in surprise as the explosive bounced towards him and Peili dove for it. Plucking it off the ground next to the heavy weapon's man she tried to flick it down the corridor towards it originators but the Romulan knew his stuff, the grenade had a short fuse and exploded only a few meters down the hallway. Peili and Jobyn yelped as fragments smashed into them and knocked the wind out of them.

She blinked her eyes, vainly trying to clear the spots from them. She rolled over, off Jobyn and she felt more than heard him moan. Her head rung with the concussion of the explosion in such a small area. With an almost detached interest she watched the remaining few members of her squad start to emerge from cover to try and blunt the inevitable rush that was coming. She languidly swung her head back down the hallway to see the Romulans starting to leap frog forward. Her world snapped back into focus when the green beam of a disruptor swung near her face, leaving another streak in her vision.

Her whole body protested the abuse it was receiving but she forced it down as best she could. Fumbling at her belt she found a grenade hanging there. Jamming her finger into the activation stud she snatched off the retaining clip. She let go of the activation stud and heard the whine as the grenade started to power up. Holding it for a three count she lobbed it into the hallway towards the charging Romulans and grabbed Jobyn by his equipment harness and rolled him back into their own doorway, throwing herself across his body even as the grenade exploded.

"Program Terminated."

Peili sighed as silence returned to the corridor. She rolled off Jobyn and sat up, her back to the door.

A bald head and a stern expression hove into her view. "I hope that in the future you conduct these simulations with the safety protocols at a higher level."

Peili chuckled, "Then how would you spend your time Doc?"

The EMH frowned as he pressed his hypospray to her neck.

Peili sucked in her breath as the stimulant surged into her body. The foggy dull world snapped back to full clarity in an instant as the chemicals slammed into her mind, driving open passageways the holoprogam had stunned shut to simulate damage. The clarity was alarming in its suddenness.

"Doing something more constructive than patching up self inflicted injuries."

"Just a few stuns," she said running her hands over her face and through her black hair.

Corporal Degneis moaned as the doctor's stimulants worked on him. The pig faced Tellerite sat up and brought a three fingered hand to his chest, reassuring himself that his body was still intact. The program had nailed him with a stun beam and Peili knew he'd be feeling it for a while stimulants or not. The doctor moved on to treat other patients and Peili stood up. Ensign Jobyn was sheepishly safing his heavy repeater when a new face intruded.

'Intruded might be too strong a word,' Peili thought as she looked over Bella Mavil. The Orion woman had learned to have a bit more tact when dealing with other races during her time in Starfleet. Apparently they didn't always take her roaming eyes as the compliment it was. In times of stress or fatigue it was always easy let manners slip and Peili's eyes were sliding over the human woman's shapely hips before she caught herself.

Bella had long ago gotten used to being checked out, in fact she'd learned to encourage such thoughts in others and use them to her benefit. People weren't on top of their game when their mating drives took over. She wasn't used to the frank and hungry manner she was being appraised now by the Orion. She didn't know in what manner the green woman seemed ready to devour in, 'Animal women indeed.' As quickly as the look came over her it was gone again. The Lt. Commander's face smiled warmly as if nothing had ever been amiss. "So, ahem," Bella stumbled.

Peili quickly ran with the conversation, annoyed that she'd let her instincts get the best of her. "That was not the kind of performance I'd prefer someone to see," she explained.

Bella quickly focused. "Not up to snuff?"

"Not even close," Peili said as she shook her head. "Six intruders in that confined space shouldn't have lasted thirty seconds. We took casualties we shouldn't have. It was not good," She said loudly enough for those around her to hear. Normally she wouldn't have chastised her people in front of an outsider like Bella but in this case she thought their performance warranted it.

"What I don't understand is why bother? With the phasers, the internal shields, holographic bodyguards and all that, why bother training for something you'll never need to do?"

"Because those things can break, or fail, go offline, or just not be appropriate. Besides, what kind of security force can't defend their own ship?" Behind them the security team was picking up the last of their equipment and heading for the turbolift. "I have to go do an after action report. Would you be free for dinner at say, nineteen hundred hours Thursday?"

Bella found herself trying to refocus as Peili's electric blue eyes bored into her own. "Well uh, yes. Yes I'd love to."

Peili's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she smiled, "Wonderful." Bella could feel her heart starting to hammer in her chest from Peili's smile but as quickly as the smile had come it was gone as the Orion woman turned back to her troops. "Alright, grab your shit and get to the briefing room, this won't be pretty."

As the security personnel fell in and headed for the nearest turbolift Bella moved quickly to use her holocamera to capture a few pictures of the men and women Peili commanded. The little camera was tucked back behind her ear with just the lens peeking out over it. The bracelet around her wrist was also busy recording everything that was being said in her vicinity. Like many reporters Bella had found that those being interviewed and observed were far more outspoken when there wasn't an obvious camera or recorder in their face. Having everything recorded also prevented Bella from misquoting someone and getting into trouble that way.

After a short turbo lift ride the marines filed into small auditorium. With seating for fifty each of the troops seemed to avoid the others, giving at least two or three empty seats between each of them. Bella stayed in the back of the auditorium while Peili walked down front. From the way the marines spread out it was obvious to Bella that they were taking their commander's verbal brow beating to heart.

"That...," Peili said as she sat her carbine down on top of the lectern at the front, "was absolutely pathetic." She ignored the smattering of grumbled responses. "I say that because I hand picked each and every one of you for this assignment and I know for a fact that you are all better than what I saw today."

The Tellerite raised his hand.

"Yes Corporal?"

"I take full responsibility ma'am, this is my section and any fault you find in them is a failure on my part."

"That goes without saying corporal," Peili said humorlessly. "I'm not going to be putting anyone on report though. I'm going to assume that today's poor performance was either rustiness from too much time in space dock, or you just didn't take the simulator seriously. I believe the corporal can attest to how that is a mistake."

"Yes ma'am."

"Tomorrow we'll be doing this again, several times. I'm going to warn you now that today was a freebie, you won't be getting any more. If you all do this poorly tomorrow I will be making it official. Private Jobyn?"

The large man with the brown crewcut that Peili had shared cover with earlier perked up. "Yes ma'am?"

"You do realize that when I say to cover the hallway I mean the entire hallway?"

He frowned and nodded, "Yes ma'am. It won't happen again ma'am."

"Good." She turned slightly to look at the Tellerite in charge of the section, "Corporal, you do know that disruptors don't have a stun setting, and that your duty uniform is not a shield generator?"

"I do ma'am."

"Then kindly stop trying to block disruptor beams with your chest." That comment drew a few snickers from the marines. "I don't like writing letters to parents about how their child died bravely in battle when truthfully they died because they were idiots."

For the next ten minutes Bella watched Peili debrief her marines, pointing out each flaw in the battle but then offering two or three suggestions or orders on how to fix it. By the time they finished the marines were all looking more upbeat about things. Peili dismissed them and Bella walked down to meet her. "That must be intimidating," Bella said, gesturing up to the view screen that dominated the front wall of the auditorium."

"You think so?" Peili asked as she retrieved her rifle, putting the sling over her shoulder and letting it hang.

"Having every thing you do recorded and played back so that every tiny detail can be picked apart and analyzed. I'd call that intimidating."

"Maybe," Peili said, "but that dissection of events lets us learn everything we can from these exercises. Besides, I wouldn't expect a member of the press to complain too much about being recorded and all."

"Well it's a little different," Bella protested.

"Is it?" One of Peili's free hands cupped Bella's cheek. The Orion woman's hand soft and smooth against Bella's skin as it skimmed over her face. Bella's eyes had started to narrow when suddenly the touch was gone and Peili held her ear camera in front of her. She chuckled as she turned the small device over in her hand then handed it back to Bella. "I don't mind being recorded, in any activity, but I don’t' forget about it either." Peili held up her wrist and consulted her chronograph. "Now if you don't mind I've got to get a shower and then get to work on tomorrow's sims. So unless you want to join me..." Peili let her question hang in the air, eventually drawning a negative nod from Bella. "I'll have to talk to you later." She headed for the door and called back, "Dinner Thursday at nineteen hundred, don't be late."

As Peili left Bella stuck her ear camera into her pants pocket. She had the feeling that an affirmative nod would have been an acceptable answer to Peili's shower question. An image of wet green skin flitted through her consciousness and Bella cursed. She'd just been manipulated, expertly, the same way she'd always tried to manipulate others herself. Try as she might she couldn't get mad at the Typhoon's security chief though. "Thursday at nineteen hundred," she repeated to herself, she didn't want to forget. Manipulated or not she wasn't going to miss it.

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

For the tenth time in as many minutes Villec Bisaan checked the condition of the engines. Maneuvering thrusters warm but on standby. Impulse reactors running at minimum capacity. Warp cores one and two operating at twenty five percent capacity, core three operating at thirty eight percent capacity. All within norms for a warp cruise through Federation space. Out of curiosity he pulled up the standard operating procedures and confirmed what he remembered. During alert status or if traveling in potentially hostile areas the impulse reactors would be maintained at fifty percent capacity so that the ship would be immediately ready to maneuver at sublight should they have to drop out of warp. With a sigh he closed that window and returned to his displays. Everything was green, again. Glancing at his board's chronometer he sighed, not even thirty seconds killed.

Adjusting himself he turned his attention to Lieutenant Milana Tuul beside him. The Cardassian woman was cooler in his infrared vision than other members of the crew, except for lieutenant commander Riway daughter of Jaheel, who was several degrees cooler still than Lieutenant Milana Tuul. He turned his head slightly to let his normal light eyes observe her then quickly set them back to watching his console, he didn't really need them that much, his infrared vision would do just fine. From the way she slowly worked at her own station Villec decided that she was likely as bored as he. There was no surprise there; most species were far more easily bored than the Nileen. An impatient hunter was a hungry one after all. Though if he was bored how his mercurial friend wasn't ready to scream was something he wondered about.

Milana could feel the Nileen's gaze on her. She'd tried to teach her friend about being subtle but the nuances of humanoid subtlety were as lost on her sauroid companion as the proper way to flair your tails to communicate territorial problems were on her. "What's the matter Villec?"

Large empty eyes blinked, his head turning so his forward set of visible light ones could focus on her. "Nothing is the matter Milana Tuul."

"You're a horrible liar Villec. You keep glancing over here every thirty seconds." Milana found his visible light eyes far easier to look at; they had proper pupils and such, even if they were compound. His infrared eyes were large and featureless though she always seemed to know where they were looking.

Villec opened his mouth a few centimeters and snapped it shut with a click, his version of a huff as best Milana could tell. He'd only looked with his infrared eyes which he thought were featureless to humanoids and were for the most part. "How is it that you are not bored," he asked, managing to use a pronoun instead of a proper name. Milana had struggled to teach him pronouns for months at the academy and seemed to make some progress. He never started with a pronoun, or used one with someone of a higher rank, but he seemed to have learned to use them with her. "When cruising at warp there is little for me or you to do. It is uninteresting."

"Multitask Villec," she said as she pointed at her console with one gray finger. Rising on his hind legs the sauroid could see that the center of her display was taken up by a window with what appeared to be a text book filling it.

"What is this?"

"Subspace sensor theory. I'm studying it for sensor tech quals."

"You wish to run the sensor array?"

"No you silly lizard. The more systems I qualify out on though the better it looks on evaluations."

"You are not being attendant to your duties."

"Right now my duties are to sit here and watch the little dot crawl across the screen for three weeks," she said, pointing at her console. "All you're doing is checking engine parameters that haven't changed in four days and its not like you're gonna notice something wrong before the engineering department does," she said, twitching her head back towards the engineering station at the back of the bridge.

Villec snorted, inflating his neck pouch slightly. She was right, but she didn't need to make him seem quite so useless at the moment.

"Look, no one here really expects you to stare at that display for three weeks straight. So long as you're doing something productive no one is going to care. Study something, check something, do something. Just sitting there staring at the repeater isn't going to impress anyone."

Milana turned back to her own console, appearing to check their course before returning to her manual. She did have a point; his talents weren't really being taxed at the moment. Accessing the database he brought up the manual for the Typhoon's type eleven shuttles. They were quite a bit more advanced than the type eights at the academy. It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to review their operating manual.

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

"See right here, that power coupling?"

Marcos strained his neck, twisting his head around in the confined space. Starfighter pilots tended to be on the short side but even he was finding the contortions necessary to see where the engineer was pointing difficult. "You mean the molten slag attached to the power conduit?"

"Yeah that," the engineer said.

"That's what's got the engine messed up?"

The engineer laughed. "No, redundant systems would have taken care of it except..."

Laying on the deck, crammed under Alpha two two's port lower engine was not a comfortable place to be normally, much less with another person. Marcos' patience was strained. "Except what?"

"...Except when it slagged it arc'd and liquefied the data bus here," he said pointing to an empty space. It took Marcos a moment to trace things back and see the melted ends of the wiring harness. "Which tripped the safety there," another charred piece of machinery. "Which didn't work because the power couldn't dump through the slagged conduit so it back fed into the reaction chamber here," he pointed to two warped spheres of one of Alpha two two's impulse reactors. "...and slagged it. The first reactor was fine, but the two that were slagged downstream made it impossible to generate stable but reduced thrust."

"Well what's the fix?"

"We tear this thing apart and replace them."

Marcos already knew what was coming. "How long."

"Four days."

"Double up on this, get it done." With that he slid back out from under the wounded fighter.

"What bad huh?" Rilo asked after seeing the scowl on Marcos' face.

"It's a damn design flaw, whoever set up the safety managed to give it just one way to vent, which also happens to be one of the lines its a safety for."

"You want to write up the report to Starfleet Engineering or should I?"

Marcos waved dismissively. "No I got it," he said as he wiped his hands off on a rag.

"We should work on getting a fix cooked up, prevent this from happening again. I'll talk to Commander Del about it."

Marcos started walking towards the turbolift. "Shouldn't be too hard to fix, just run an alternate line for the safety, still..."

"I know I know, it shouldn't have happened." Rilo pushed the call button, the spots that ran from behind his ears and down the sides of his body were paler as he tried to reassure his friend. Marcos stayed keyed up enough for the both of them. "Come on though Marcos, we're taking out some of the first ones, bound to be some problems."

"Yeah well when we're going to the neutral zone and the Romulans are feeling antsy I'd rather not have to worry about stupid engineering screw ups in my ship." The turbolift arrived and they entered. "CAG's office," Marcos said.

With only the faintest tug of acceleration the turbolift sped them towards their destination. "You really believe that briefing?" Rilo asked.

Marcos shrugged. "I dunno, most of its based off spook work we'll never see but I can buy it. I don't care what anyone says, the Romulans hate us, always have. I can see their rulers deciding to go to war rather than lose power."

"That's pretty damn cynical."

"Cynical, realistic. Potato, potahto."

The turbolift doors opened and they stepped out into the side corridor. Turning right they headed for their Yvethan commanding officer's office. "You have to explain that to me one day, that expression makes no sense, potahto is obviously the incorrect pronunciation."

Marcos ignored his friend and thumbed the door chime. The musical tone rang and a moment later they heard, "Come in."

Tycho was busy pecking away at his computer terminal when they entered. The Yvethan only had two rather large digits and a thumb that ended in large thick nails. They could be mistaken for claws but Marcos knew for a fact they were duller than their owner was. One thing Marcos couldn't fault his superior for was his choice of office. Behind Lt. Commander Danor's desk was a two meter wide window out over the main shuttle bay. Down below and off to the right Marcos could see Alpha two two and the tech crew starting to gather around. "Yes lieutenants?"

The Yvethan's speech was always disconcerting to Marcos, his beaked mouth never moving in time with what seemed to come out of it. "Sir, I just finished checking on Alpha two two's situation. Reactors number two and three of its port lower impulse engine slagged themselves. I've got the engineers working on repairing it immediately. They estimate four days, I told them to double on the crews."

The Yvethan's crest flushed red, what he'd been told was Danor's equivalent of a nod. "What was the cause?"

"A power coupling burned out, took a critical wiring harness with it. That tripped a safety that tried to dump through the line with the slagged coupling. It back fed the reactors and slagged two of them."

Another red flush. "Cascading failures, and a poorly designed safety. Corrective action?"

Rilo nodded, "I'll be contacting Commander Del and see if she can modify the safety with another dump route."

"And I'll be writing a report to Starfleet Engineering along with whatever Commander Del comes up with. We'll have her implement her fix on all the fighters."

"Prior to approval from Starfleet Engineering?"

Marcos nodded. "I think it would be appropriate given where we're going. I believe the solution is something our engineering department can handle."

Danor flushed red again. "Very well, proceed as you see fit."

Marcos and Rilo nodded. "Thank you sir."

"Dismissed."

After they stepped out of his office Marcos turned to Rilo and said, "You ever get the feeling he's always trying to give us just enough rope to hang ourselves with."

Rilo sighed, "You're just paranoid."

Marcos looked at his friend and pointedly said, "And you're not paranoid enough."

The spots running down the sides of Rilo's neck darkened. "So you think he's out to get us?"

"Maybe."

Rilo frowned at his dark haired friend. "What possible benefit could he get from us failing? If someone under his command is incompetent it looks bad on him."

"Maybe that's it, what if he's always trying to see if we'll slip up and he can toss us?"

"So what if he is?" Rilo asked as they walked into the squadron briefing room and headed towards their office at the back. "Do you have some horrible flaw; some screw up on your part that's going to give him a reason to send you back to Earth?"

Marcos bristled, "Of course not! I just want some damn trust." He slid behind his desk and flopped down into his overstuffed chair. Across the cabin Rilo slid into his own chair. Their simple office was a shared one. Five meters long and three deep with their desks at either end and the entrance from the briefing room right in the center. A two meter window in the long wall opposite the door looked out into the flight bay but didn't give much of a view to the men behind their desks. "Besides, he doesn't necessarily have to be against us."

"So you're saying he's incompetent?"

"The Jonestown's air group took one hell of a pounding during the war. Their casualty rate was one of the highest in the fleet."

"They spent the whole damn war on the front lines Marcos, what do you expect. That they survived at all is a pretty good showing of the lieutenant commander's skill."

"Maybe," Marco said, slumping in his seat.

"Just write your damn report to Star Fleet Engineering and stop worrying about it. I don't need you getting into another 'My Commander is out to get me,' funk."

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"Hey, he still let us do as we wanted with it, that's gotta count for something."

Marcos called up his computer and got ready do draft the report. "Yeah, maybe it does."

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

Cesina sat in the captain's chair, watching the stars whip by at warp. She'd sat aside her PADD a few minutes ago to just enjoy the view. She knew she was enclosed in a bridge that had no actual view outside of the ship. In fact the bridge itself was covered in almost two meters of ablative armor. Only the captain's ready room and the conference room had actual windows out into space. A simple window was just too inflexible for a starship bridge. The sweeping holoprojection in front of her kept the space from feeling anything but claustrophobic. The captain's modification to the program had made the entire forward wall of the ship and most of the ceiling disappear as if made from one gigantic sheet of transparent aluminum. It was disconcerting to walk onto the bridge and have it look like there was nothing holding in the atmosphere but after a few days it was far odder to walk onto the bridge and not see it. Most of the second shift personnel seemed to feel that a conventional view screen was a far better arrangement but she'd come to love the view. After all gamma shift was usually as dead as could be.

By conventional thinking there shouldn't be any real difference between the shifts. The Typhoon had hundreds of crewmen and day and night were what you made of them. They should be able to have all three shifts fully staffed and functional and yet something about most of the space going species that insisted that there be a day and night cycle on a ship. Gamma shift's quietness was a function of it taking place in the dead of night.

Cesina enjoyed the quiet. It gave her time to think, read, and study. She'd only recently begun to realize just how poorly she'd prepared and been prepared for her posting on the Typhoon. Having transferred only months before from the explorer corps she was used to a completely different way of running a ship. She had to remember the priorities the FDF had were not the same as the explorer corps. There was so much to learn, so many old habits to break, she hadn't felt comfortable running the earlier beta shift and had requested gamma.

Cesina knew that second officer was a functional rank in much the same way that a screen door was a functional hatch on a spaceship. She was a Lt. Commander but most of the senior staff outranked her or just plain had more experience. The FDF had taken the recommendation of the explorer corps and fast tracked her for command but given her lack of experience had decided not to give her a department. Instead she'd been assigned to the dreaded second officer position. No real function except to stand there and not touch anything so that maybe at the end of the cruise she'd be ready for her own department.

Even though she knew she shouldn't she still felt useless. Second officers usually fell into two categories, screw ups that were being given a chance to redeem themselves or young officers too good to be kept in the lower ranks but not with enough experience under their belts to give full fledged assignments.

"Second officer," Commander Luhrner had said when she'd reported in. "Been a while since I've had to baby-sit one of you." Her antennae still quivered in annoyance. There might have been a lot of truth behind the words, but the way she'd been casually dismissed still rankled her. Cesina hadn't said anything, convinced that he hadn't been out of line. It was a baby sitting job for him. They'd only been in space for four days and she could already feel it. Always giving her hints, nudges, suggestions. How bad must she be screwing up if he always had to remind her of those things? He made it look so easy, flowing from task to task like it was nothing, never seeming bothered, hurried, or out of control. How did he do it? Even with her minor responsibilities the work was overwhelming.

Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly she promised herself she wouldn't be a screw up any longer, she'd prove she deserved to be there.

She glanced at the chronometer built into the arm of the captain’s chair, another twenty minutes to go until the end of gamma shift. Baring any unforeseen occurrences her report for the night was written and ready to be filed, the log updated. She really had nothing left to do for the shift. Pursing her lips she decided to indulge her creative impulses and called up the holoprogram that was providing the views out into space. Copying it into a new file she began to work on it, tinkering with the set up she set about one of her hobbies, holo-architecture.

Holo technology had given people many new ways to enjoy their hobbies and where as a few centuries ago someone like Cesina might have been restricted to doodles on paper she could now create her ideas full size. Looking up at the vast open area above her head she used a stylus to sketch out what she wanted. The computer filled in the details and soon graceful arches stretched from one side of the bridge to the other, connecting the ceilings above the raised platforms on either side to one another. A few smaller sections connected the arches and gave it a trellised feel. On an impulse she entered her orders and a few small plants quickly grew on the tops and sides of the arches, encrusting the duranium with their vines. A few vines hung down below the arches. She smiled as she looked at her handiwork.

"Now that's an interesting look for a starship bridge."

"Captain!" Cesina exclaimed as she bolted up out of the chair. She snatched up her PADD and started to enter the commands to remove the modification. "Sorry sir, I'll remove it immediately."

Timothy held up his hand, "Now hold on, don't be hasty. It's a nice touch. I like it." He looked thoughtfully up at the projection. "Yeah, I like it. Might wanna lose the flowers though. They don't really say ship of the line, know what I mean?"

Cesina nodded and watched her captain head for his ready room. Following right behind him was an ensign she'd never seen before. The girl's curly red hair and freckles made her look young for a human by Cesina's estimation. In her hands was clutched a larger model PADD that she was busy entering something into.

"Oh gods," Cesina muttered as she looked up at the vine encrusted arches she'd added. Just what she needed, the captain to catch her messing around with his viewscreen program. So much for not being a screw up.

============================================================
Harry Kim sighed as he looked over the mess of a duty roster he was preparing for the next week. He'd had the same duty on Voyager but it had been a little easier. The Typhoon had more than ten times as many crewman and none of the department heads seem to have adjusted to his style just yet.

Some, like Terzi, just sent him note saying it was handled and others had given him a list of personnel and a list of work to be completely with no information about either the crewmen or a prioritization of the jobs and resources needed and he was supposed to miraculously come up with a duty roster.

Neither extreme was helpful. He needed more info than Terzi was providing but he needed others to take more initiative. There was a middle ground between the extremes and he needed to get everyone there quickly. The duty roster shouldn't be a difficult thing to compose

Finally giving up he tossed a half finished roster off to the side and opened a message. Dictating it quickly and succinctly he laid down what he expected from the department heads when it came to a duty roster along with his expectation for them to fix what they'd submitted and return it to him. Immediately. Punching his board to end the dictation he sent it back to his subordinates.

Catching Riway watching him out of the corner of his eye he turned to her. The half reptilian woman quickly became very interested in her own work. "Something amiss lieutenant commander?"

"Yhou ssseem ssstressed cohmmander. That wasss a veery forssseful sssummonsss for sssuch a thing."

Harry grimmaced. She was right, he'd probably been more on edge than was necessary. He would have to learn his department head's habits and ways of doing things just the way they'd have to learn him. Send out a message telling them all he was sorry probably wasn't a good idea, he'd just have to work on being more understanding. "Probably."

Riway risked another glance over at her commander. He was staring down at his console and from Riway's vantage point it looked like he was going over the message he'd sent again. "They weell mossst likely noot take offensssse," she offered. "Sssuch difficultees are tooo be exxxpected weeth a new commander."

Harry nodded. "Doesn't excuse me taking my bad mood out on my team."

"Missstakesss made. Correction choossssen. Dhou not let it happeen ageen."

"Huh?" Harry looked over at his subordinate to find her looking right back at him. The coughing hissing sound she was making was making the oily green quills that were her hair bounce and rattle against one another. She smiled at him, flashing her long canines at him and in spite of the differences between them Harry had to chuckle along with her after realizing what she'd been doing. "Insubordination, wonderful."

"Ohnly weeth vou cohmmander, noht in vront of zee men."

Harry smiled and turned back to his console. He had been overly harsh but there was nothing to be done about it now. He'd leave the message as is and deal with it later. Sorting out normal operations prior to getting to their patrol area was important and a few ruffled feathers he could live with.

Harry was still trying to get used to the idea of patrol area. The last time he'd been assigned to a starship they'd spent seven years racing for home in a rather squirelly straight line. To go somewhere and then putter around was disconcerting. It would be a welcome change though. After arriving home from the Delta quadrant Harry had felt adrift for a long time. His first year home had been spent trying to pick up the pieces of his former life and failing miserably. Seven years lost on the other side of the galaxy had caused most of his friends and even his fiance to move on. Classmates from the academy had moved on to new postings and higher ranks. It had become obvious to him soon that he was in serious danger of falling off the career path in Starfleet. There weren't a lot of seven year ensigns in Starfleet.

He'd returned to Starfleet academy and for two years he'd crammed as much command school and holotheory in as possible. During his time on Voyager he'd taken an interest in the EMH and his tinkering with the Doctor's program had given him more hands on experience with advanced holography than most Starfleet officers. Pushing that interest even farther in the academy had gotten some people's attention.

When he'd arrived he'd been given a much belated promotion to lieutenant. Upon graduation he'd been promoted again to lieutenant commander. To his surprise his first assignment was to Jupiter station as operations manager. The post had been almost as interesting as Voyager but far more frustrating. Managing a group of artist/scientists who's job was to create virtual fantasies made herding cats look like a simple task. The Doctor's creator, professor Zimmerman, had been the worst of them all. After he'd learned that Harry was 'that ensign Kim,' who'd tinkered with the Doctor's program it had been all downhill as the Professor seemed intent on making his life as difficult as possible for the crime of trying to improve 'HIS' creation. Just as often as he'd made Harry miserable he'd call him to his lab and grill him about some modification to the EMH they'd made and listen intently as he'd explain it. Such moments always ended with the Professor declaring it the stupidest idea he'd ever heard. A few weeks later the professor would call him in to show him some new subroutine or program incorporating one of Harry's ideas and proclaim him, and himself, a genius. The Professor's personality had given him more insight into the Doctor than he'd ever wanted.

After two years at Jupiter Station he'd recieved an unexpected call. Admiral Janeway had offered him a promotion and a posting on an FDF flagship if he'd transfer to the new division of Starfleet.

At first he'd rejected the offer out of hand. His posting was a good one and the thought of having to fight another battle wasn't a pleasant one. Encounters with the Borg had convinced him of his own mortality. Getting to know Seven of Nine had convinced him there were worse fates than dying. The Admiral had given him a week to think about her offer and he had. It was the captain in charge of Jupiter station that had convinced him though.

"Harry, take the offer," he'd said. "You're a good ops manager and I don't want to lose you but you need to go. You think this is a good job here and it is, but Starfleet is about the ships Harry. Officers who make careers on starbases and stations get left on starbases and stations. If you ever want to get out in space again you need to go and do it now."

Three days later he'd called Janeway up and taken her offer. A week after that he'd left Jupiter station for Antares and his new position on the Typhoon and his new rank, commander. Five years before he'd been an ensign and dangerously close of being passed by in Starfleet's career path. Now he was one promotion away from being a first officer and another after that of becoming captain of his own ship.

The commissioining of a ship the size and complexity of the Typhoon had kept Harry busier than he'd ever imagined he could have been. It was nice to be back in space and have things quieted down. Coordinating work during the commissioning of the ship had been difficult. Most of the people working on the Typhoon didn't report to him or anyone else on the ship and therefore took his direction as mearly suggestions.

Looking to the side he remembered meeting Riway for the first time. Like most of the former Atlas crew she'd been standoffish and abrupt. Her odd manner of speaking, to him at least, and her superficial reptillian appearence only added to his discomfort with his subordinate. He'd been pleasantly surprised with the way that Riway had opened up to him though she'd only recently started to open up about her experiences during the Dominion war. She'd been more forth coming about her species though, he'd even found out that Si'rak were at least partial endo-therms, though Riway kept her quarters well above normal temps and was always wearing the heavy under-sweater that was issued for colder climate postings.

Part of him had to admit that even with the differences she was an attractive woman, the scales on her neck and quills of her hair were even appealing in an exotic way. No forked tongue though, he'd checked. The fangs were a bit worrisome and he saw them every time she smiled which was becoming a much more common experience.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the stray thoughts Harry called up some of the work orders he'd already put in. There was work to be done and he didn't have time to day dream.

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

"I fail to see why you would ask me to come here."

"Because I value your opinion Seven."

One graceful blonde eyebrow arched upwards. "I do not believe my aesthetic tastes are up to human norms."

The Doctor sighed. "That's not the point; I'm not asking you about human norms. I'm asking how it looks to you."

Seven of Nine looked around the small cabin. "The space is functional."

The Doctor closed his eyes and rubbed them. "It was functional before I decorated. I mean does it look like someone lives here. Is it ME?" he said throwing his arms wide.

Seven sighed and looked again at the cabin. It took conscious effort on her part to look at the space and consider it for its value as something other than just pure functionality. The Doctor did appear to have invested considerable time in decorating his cabin. She noted the hardbound medical journals he had put on a bookshelf. Her enhanced eyesight allowed her to quickly scan the titles and she was surprised to see texts dating back into Earth's fifteenth century along with many alien titles, also hopelessly out of date. She assumed they were kept out of novelty or sentimental value, or so she hoped. Numerous small models of various organs were displayed about, including an amazingly detailed one of a human heart. The doctor had used his holopictures as well. The walls held many large landscapes he had taken while in the delta quadrant and smaller pictures of the crew were sitting on shelves and in other places. She even saw a music stand tucked back in the corner with a violin nearby.

"I did not realize you played the violin Doctor."

"Oh, oh, that. Well, I enjoyed singing I wanted to see if I would enjoy playing as well."

"I think I would like to hear you play sometime."

The Doctor stared at her for a moment before stammering, "Well, yes, yes of course. I'd be happy to play. The cabin though, what about the cabin Seven?" He ran his hand up over his bald pate then quickly snatched it back down to his side.

"The cabin does appear to conform to your tastes and interests. I... like it."

"Excellent!"

"I fail to see the purpose of it however."

The Doctor crossed his arms again. "You're not the only one. I don't sleep, I don't eat, and I don't get tired. If I want to read I can always do that while continuing my duties. Lt. Commander Kim suggested that I could use my cabin as a place to get away if I wanted to be undisturbed."

"Solitude is preferably at times."

The Doctor looked over at her, a little concern etching his face. "But not all the time, right Seven?"

"No," she said. "Not all the time." For a long moment silence reigned in the cabin until Seven broke it. "Perhaps a reading of the logs of Commander Data might be appropriate?"

"Commander Data? He died though during the ǀtrip to before the civil war."

"He did, however his logs contained several references to the dilemmas you are encountering now. He had no use for a cabin either but as time progressed he discovered many uses for it. He postulated that a period of unconsciousness but not total shut down allowed him to, 'dream' and his cabin was a suitible place to engage in this activity."

"Dreaming? An android?"

"Yes."

The Doctor pondered it for a time. "I never really considered it. I'm either on and conscious or shut down and not. I don't even know if I have an in-between state. It would certainly give me something to do in here."

"Perhaps we could investigate writing subroutines that would allow you to mimic the state of unconsciousness?"

"Would you be able to help Seven? Harry's been busy for the past few days."

"Yes I can." Seven nodded. "Would now be an opportune time?"

"Yes, excellent. You can even provide some insights into what dreaming is like. I find myself somewhat curious about it now."

Seven turned towards the door. "I doubt my insights would be of any help Doctor, when I do dream it is... unpleasant."

"Well, none the less," he said following her. As they walked out the door and out into the corridor he said, "Have I told you how much better you look in a proper uniform?"

Seven looked down at the simple blue accented uniform she now wore. "The skin suits were becoming impractical."

The doctor bristled at the comment. "I'll have you know those suits were perfectly functional and you can thank them for a normal dermal layer."

"The suits were functional," Seven replied, "But they drew unwanted attention."

"How so?"

"I was told they were, distracting, to the male populace at Starfleet command, and a certain portion of the female populace."

The Doctor processed this for a few more strides. "I would have expected a bit more professionalism at Starfleet Command."

"Indeed." Seven led the Doctor into a turbolift and ordered it to the lab section of the ship.

"The labratories?"

"Since we do not have holodeck time reserved the labratories offer the best alternative."

"Of course."

Seven continued to stare straight ahead as the turbolift wisked them through the ship. "It was during my time at Starfleet Command, after my debriefing, that I decided to begin wearing a duty uniform."

"Assimilating into your new collective?"

The Doctor had to smile as Seven turned her head towards him and replied levely, "Indeed."

"There was some resistance to your comissioning."

"There was some unfounded concern about making a former drone a Starfleet officer. Admiral Janeway was only able to make my comission palatable to all involved when she agreed to transfer me to the Federation Defense Force immediately."

'That was an understatement,' the Doctor thought. He'd been called to numerous hearings in regards to Seven's disconnection to the Collective. It had taken almost four years of trial and error and surgeries to finally excise the last of the Borg's hold on Seven but they were confident the link was severed, permanently. The collection of admirals who'd presided over Seven's petition for a commission hadn't been satisfied pumping him for answers once, or even twice, he'd testified on six different occasions for Seven. Even then it had taken admiral Janeway's assurance that she'd take Seven into the FDF for the panel to admit her.

When the turbolift stopped and they stepped out Seven led them towards one of the free labs. Entering the Doctor was struck by how it looked nothing like a proper labratory. A few work tables holding a few non-replicable insturments were stashed in one corner but aside from that the labratory was little more than an empty room.

"Computer, activate holographic labratory."

As the Doctor watched, in the center of the space a large work console materialized. The remainder of the room shifted into a familar looking hologrid, not unlike the workshop of his creator on Jupiter Station. He glanced around and found that the few insturments that had been in the labratory were now hidden behind a holographic wall. "Impressive."

"Quite. These labs are a far more efficent use of space than a conventional labratory set up."

"How, Borg, of the designers."

"On the contrary Doctor, the Collective makes no scientific endeavours of its own. All knowledge is assimilated. The Collective has no labratories."

The Doctor rolled his eyes as Seven stepped up to the work console. "Of course, how silly of me." He followed her, watching as she started to call up his program on her station. Seven was one of the few people he trusted enough to give unfettered access to his program. "I'm curious, how do you plan to simulating an unconcious state?"

"I am planning to dampen your sensory perceptions by ninety percent and reduce your logic centers contribution to your thought process to twenty percent of normal."

The Doctor frowned, "That's a bit drastic."

"During human unconciousness awareness of the surrounding world is diminished greatly and the concious and rational portion of the brain is at a low point of activity. I believe my modifications will mimic this state."

"I hope you don't forget to turn my logic centers back on when I wake up. I don't think the crew would appreciate me operating on them without them."

"I am including it in the modification, as well as provisions that would allow you to control the state and be roused from it by outside sources." Seven's hands glided over the controls, making the final few imputs before starting the additions compiling. "It will take a few moments."

"What do you suppose I'll dream of?" the Doctor asked.

"Unknown," Seven said. She continued to watch the display as the computer integrated the new subroutines into the Doctor's program.

"Well, what do you dream about," the Doctor probed.

He didn't need his enhanced senses to see the way Seven's face tightend. Her finely sculpted jaw tightened, her eyes narrowed, the tendons in her neck started to strain. The hints were subtle but there. To someone who's eyes were designed to perform microsurgery unaided she might as well have been wearing a giant sign with her feelings. Her slightly elevated heart rate, vascular constriction, and shallowed breathing were all sensed as well. "Unpleasant things."

The Doctor leaned in closer to the former drone. "Do you still have the nightmares?"

The way Seven cringed at the mention told him all he needed to know. "Some nights, yes. They are not as vivid since my final surgery but they remain." Seven closed her eyes and held them shut for a moment before opening them and looking directly at him. "My subconcious imagination supplies all the details my implants no longer do."

Usually ignored subroutines for bedside manner compelled the Doctor to cover Seven's augmented hand with his own. The cold metal that covered it like a web pressed against his palm but he could still feel the skin beneat it. "Have you..."

Seven cut him off, "Yes, I have spoken to Starfleet psychologists. They say the visions will fade in time."

"It's been almost six years."

"I'm aware of that," Seven snapped.

The Doctor felt her hand tense under his own but she didn't pull away. He remembered how she'd been almost a decade ago when they'd first taken her aboard and removed most of her Borg implants. That Seven would never have even let him touch her at all outside of a medical sense. She'd come along way and he'd done his best to help her. It was an odd feeling to know that now there was little he could do for her. For the longest time whenever Seven had a problem he'd been the one to help, but not now. The only thing he could do anymore was be there for her. It was an odd feeling, one he still hadn't fully processed. "I have to say, you're not exactly encouraging me to give dreaming a try."

For a moment confusion was painted across Seven's sharp nordic features, then just the barest hint of a smile. "I'm sure your dreams will be much more pleasant. Commander Data reported that some of his first dreams were of his creator." Seven eased her hand away from his as the computer chimed that the compile was complete.

The Doctor frowned. "My creator is an asinine old hermit who's only companions are holograms he can turn off and who considered me to be his crowning failure."

In the middle of the lab a simple cot materialized and Seven gestured towards it. "I would suggest an initial period of only a few minutes to test the new subroutines."

The Doctor laid down on the cot and folded his hands on his chest. "Well, I haven't said hello to 'Dad' in a few months, now is as good a time as any."

"You have a vivid imagination," Seven declared. "I'm sure you will find something enjoyable. Perhapse another attempt at being an Emergency Command Hologram."

It was the Doctor's turn to grimace. "You had to bring that up."

"Or perhapse you would prefer to return to your time as a figure painter? I still will not pose nude for you."

The Doctor groaned in embarassment. "Maybe this was a bad..." the Doctor opened his mouth wide and yawned, "...ahhhh, bad idea."

Seven smiled as he looked at her quizzically. "Artistic liscense."

"Wonderful, artistic...ahhhhhhnnn... Borg," he grumbled as his eyes grew heavier and finally closed.

"Sweet dreams Doctor," Seven said as she walked back to the console to monitor her friend's progress.

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

"The disturbance is growing. I believe we have pinpointed its location however."

The scientist took the data slate from one of his research assistants and scanned the data. The trace was faint; merely a burble in the background noise of subspace but it was there.

"The deviation is approximately zero point zero nine millicochranes above the norm. It's approximately seven light minutes away from its predicted location."

The scientist stood up from his work terminal and proceeded to the large holo tank in the center of the lab. He saw the display was already focused on the anomaly. A totally nondescript point in space situated within the orbits of a trinary system of two pulsars and a blue giant. "It's favoring the slower pulsar. I wonder why?"

The aide shifted nervously, still not used to the scientist’s ways and unsure if he expected an answer or not.

"Still, seven light minutes isn't too bad. What's its current diameter?"

"Twenty four light seconds and growing."

"How fast?"

"One point three six percent per hour. Plus or minus point eight two percent."

The scientist turned the data slate to the appropriate page. "That's a wide margin of error."

"We're dealing with very slight variations in the background noise. It's difficult to determine if we're looking at regular fluctuations or the anomaly."

The scientist nodded, comparing notes on the data slate with the simulation.

"Sir," the aide said nervously. "Should we be transmitting the data to the Science Directorate, giving them access to the data stream from the probe as well?"

This was the tricky part. The scientist was fully involved in the plot but his subordinates were not, and he couldn't carry out his work without them. "Not yet."

"Sir?"

"I said not yet," he replied raising his voice. "I will not have some stuffed shirt bureaucrat who can't remember which end of field monitor does the measuring take credit for my work!"

"But this could potentially affect..."

"I know what it can affect! I also know just like you do that it will not be significant enough to cause a problem. Has the new data altered the models in any way?"

"Well no sir... no it hasn't but still," the aide was getting flustered.

"If anything comes of this it will be on my head. In fact if anything comes of this you'll probably get my job. So I don't know what your problem is."

The slam of the aide's hand on metal cut through the room drawing the attention of the other research aides. "I'm not looking for advancement!" The aide noticed all the nervous eyes watching them. "I'm only concerned about you and your work. I don't want to see you brought down because of the bureaucracy sir. You've been good to us, to all of us these last few years. I wouldn't stab you in the back."

It pained the scientist to keep the young man in the dark. He knew he genuinely did care. It bothered him even more than declaring that they knew something based off a stupid model, one he knew was completely doctored. If his aide had any clue that the anomaly was going to be thousands of times more powerful than any of the models said it would be he wouldn't be asking the scientist to pick up a communicator, he'd have done it himself.

Later that night the scientist returned to his lab. He again called up the simulations but his special access code gave him access to the code that controlled them. He hadn't told his workers but the simulations for the anomaly were doctored, drastically. Made to misrepresent the eventual size of the anomaly by several hundred thousand times. A few key strokes removed the filters and altered constants he'd added and the simulations began to display the true extent of what was likely to come.

It pained him to let them labor under false pretenses but the Tal'Shiar was everywhere. They were certainly in this lab. After all subspace research had tremendous implications for the military and government, what fools wouldn't have eyes and ears here. He was amazed that he'd been able to conceal the happenings so far. His cover story was certainly plausible; research of this magnitude could make a career. If word got out they could find all their hard work taken by someone else. The science directorate was full of people who'd risen to their positions by doing just that. Swooping in to claim credit for the work of others at just the right moment. If that happened all the prestige, funding, and opportunities this could generate would evaporate in an instant. Given all that why would he report this to the science directorate? Not until he had everything sewn up, all the research done, the papers written and distributed, the data locked away somewhere safe and the event over. He hoped the logic of those actions was keeping whatever agent the Tal'Shiar had in his team satisfied to just give progress reports to their masters.

It wasn't as if anyone in the Tal'Shiar would have a clue what was going on. There were maybe a hundred people in the entire empire who could even begin to grasp what they were working on, and thirty of the brightest of them worked for him. Still, it paid to be careful.

The computer dredged the appropriate simulations up from deep within his private computer, displaying the anomaly in all it's primitive savage glory. The tangled knot of force lines and disruption waves writhed in the star system that gave it birth. Growing, but not slowly. It expanded outwards, easily swallowing the entirety of the trinary system that had birthed it and growing farther, faster, deep into interstellar space.

He ran all eight of their simulations in turn. Each one designed to approach the simulation of the anomaly in a different manner. Each giving different results but all close enough to be confident in. Committing times, dates, and locations to memory he quickly doctored the simulations back to their original, incorrect, forms. Leaving the lab he contacted his fellow conspirator. He'd want an update.

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

"He just, he makes me nervous alright?"

"Such a reaction is understandable, but is it not the goal of the Federation to put aside such base reactions and strive to understand other's as people first?"

Binni glared up at Deekan. "Yeah, talk to me about high minded ideals when you're sharing a turbolift with a predator the size of a shuttle pod." The two had settled down in the bridge conference room to discuss Binni's idea of using the point defense batteries offensively without disrupting the rest of the bridge crew. They had the long conference table and the excellent view aft all to themselves.

"In your time with Starfleet surely you've met and dealt with other predatory species," Deekan said as he sipped his glass of water. His home planet had a tremendous arid region of almost pure desert that covered all the land masses up to twenty degrees above and below the equator. With freshwater rare on his home planet he'd learned to adore a simple glass of water and even after more than a decade and a half in Starfleet he still savored it.

"Of course I have, it's just different when they're a meter and a half tall and... well... and..."

"Humanoid?" Deekan said gently.

Even gentle, Deekan's voice reminded Binni of a landslide, but it wasn’t his voice that grated on her nerves. "I'm not a speciest ok? Or a humanoidist, I'm just... it's primal."

Deekan nodded to his human companion. Her unruly black hair was drawn back into a ponytail not unlike his own. A few tribal tattoos decorated her neck near her collar, the red ink standing out sharply against her porcelain skin. Her skin was pierced in several places with small rings, her nose, her in ears in several places, and her left eyebrow. She didn't look all that unlike the females from a tribe that didn't live too far from his own on his homeworld. Even her vivid green eyes were more like a Capellan woman's than a human. "The fact that you are bothered by your instincts and not embracing them leaves me with little doubt as to your motivations."

Binni sighed, turning back to her PADD and their discussion. "The problem with the Type XIII pulser's is that they aren't designed to handle low loads. Apparently whoever spec'd them out didn't figure we'd be firing them at anything we didn't want to vaporize."

"The phasers can be tuned to lower outputs," Deekan responded, happy to be back to the real subject.

"Yeah but look at the power output figures. At those low outputs the controller is down to like, eight percent open. At that level even a minor twitch in the controller can lead to a huge spike in output. The first pulse is what you expect then the follow ons are half again as powerful and slag what you just wanted to mess up."

"Yes, however Terzi is very good about keeping these systems in excellent condition."

"I'm not saying she's not," Binni replied, trying to smooth over any ruffled feathers. "It's nothing to do with maintenance or the people operating them, it's purely an issue with the system."

"And your proposal is?"

"Use the point defense turrets. They've each got a pair of type seven pulse phaser cannons in addition to the micro-torp launcher and the eighteen of them are enough to cover the whole sky. Interlinked they could provide a good alternative to the type XIII's and give us an option to disable or warn rather than vaporize. Take a look at my proposal."

Deekan held out his hand as Binni slid the spare PADD across the table to him. He picked it up and began to consider what was written in earnest. While he still held doubts about whether or not his fellow commander was disparaging Terzi's work in any way she had offered the appropriate apologies and honor was served. Until evidence proved otherwise he would assume she was telling the truth and not hold it against her.

"I don't even think it's his predatory nature ya know? Lieutenant Bisaan is a predator. He wouldn't be my go to sentient for a friend but I don't give his nature a second thought. I mean he's only up to here on me," she said putting her hand up under her breasts.

Deekan lowered his PADD and politely didn't stare. Binni was tall for a human female and her assessment of the pilot's height was correct. He was secretly happy she wasn't a few inches shorter or her demonstration of the Nileen's height might have been a bit more personal.

"I just think it's because he's the size of a damn aircar. I mean have you seen what Rurutic's eat? It's like King Kong with armor and claws."

"King Kong?"

"Giant gorilla."

"Ah," he said, glancing down at the PADD again.

"I mean something that can EAT those? It's scary to think about."

Deekan shifted a little, trying to focus on the proposal but finding it increasingly difficult with the human's drifting off subject. "Perhaps greater contact with the Lieutenant would be advisable."

"Spend more time around him? Did you miss the part where I almost lose it when he's near?"

Deekan ignored her outburst. "You have shown a great deal of interest in the Rurutic and the Lieutenant in particular. Perhaps discussing your interest with him, and the time that would lead to would allay your fears of the lieutenant?"

"Yeah, lemme jam my head in the lion's mouth and get to know it better,"

Deekan sighed and laid the PADD down. "Your proposal seems sound. I will incorporate the necessary command changes to make the PDT's available for offensive use and make use of them in upcoming simulations."

"Just so long as I still have first crack at them to shoot down fighters and torpedoes."

"Of course."

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

Yumiko twisted the ear piece again, looking for some position that the device would be comfortable in. The ship's doctor had taken a scan of her ear canal and that had been used to make the ear piece. It was supposed to fit so comfortably that she'd never know it was there but instead it was a constant irritation.

Pulling the piece out she wiggled her finger in her ear to try and clear the itch that was forming but nothing helped. She wondered if her half Gors'ic blood had anything to do with it. Her Gor'sic father, Tendelm Boritsolav had met her mother while stationed at the Gor'sic consulate in Old Tokyo on Earth. To everyone's surprise they'd been able to conceive and her three older brothers were evidence that her parents hadn't been content to wonder if their first born had been a fluke. Her father's race had an amazing ability to differentiate sounds even in crowded and noisy rooms, even able to follow multiple conversations all at once. It was a trait he'd past down to her along with a few other things.

'Why do my spots have to itch,' she wondered as she discreetly tried to rub her back against her chair to relieve the itching. Her father's race was from a very wet, humid world. Their skin dried out very quickly. A good moisturizing cream usually took care of things but she couldn't reach the middle of her back. With no friends and no family around, and her temporary boyfriend broken up with and left back at Antares she had no one to rub her back down with lotion, a situation that was going to be intolerable soon.

Putting her ear piece back in she keyed up the next three transmissions in the buffer, eager to catch up on the backlog her moment had caused. Listening to all three at once she quickly moved their information along, storing some in the computer, forwarding a message to the engineering department, and in general acting as a first filter of information for the ship. Most of the information was of no real import. Simple messages broadcast widely or sent directly to the ship. Unless immediate reply or conversation was needed most were stored in the buffer until she got to them. The ones that did need immediate confirmation would cut in.

As one recording ended another began, a simple situational report from an outpost along the neutral zone this one had an annoying background buzz, almost like static. The small prehensile tendrils behind her ears wiggled in annoyance as the static grated on her nerves, making the ear piece's itch worse. Clearing the rest of the running communications she focused on the neutral zone report alone. Frowning she recorded a quick reply asking that for the sake of everyone's ears they take a look at their transmitter and fix it.

Glancing down their side of the bridge she saw her superior Commander Kim talking to the snakegirl lieutenant commander Riway. He was actually pretty cute, reminding her a little of home. Still he was obviously Korean and not Japanese. Besides, the snakegirl was moving in on him unless her senses were way off.

'Ugh,' she fumed, rubbing her back against the chair again. She needed to find someone to put lotion on her or talk to the Doctor soon.

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

The spymaster closed his eyes and mentally reviewed the scientist's last report. While he was still qualifying himself a great deal there was far more certainty in his voice. The appearance of the anomaly very close to where and almost exactly when he'd predicted it had reassured him. The dates and times he'd been supplied with allowed more concrete plans to be established. A few events would have to be accelerated but that didn't concern him, plans changed, they had to.

============================================================
Dramatis Personae

Crew, U.S.S. Typhoon NCC-79853

Timothy Hayes, Fleet Captain, Commander 1st Task Force of the 17th Fleet, Male Human
Commanded the U.S.S. Atlas during the Dominion War, transferred into the Federation Defense Force immediately after its establishment, given command of the Typhoon and the 1st TF soon after.

Johan Luhrner, Commander, Male Human
1st Officer of the Atlas during the Dominion War, 1st officer of the Typhoon

Cesina Bul’ra, Lt. Commander, Female Andorian
Lieutenant aboard the U.S.S Galaxy, 2nd Officer of the Typhoon

Commander, Female Elysian
Chief Engineer of the Atlas during the Dominion War, Chief Engineer of the Typhoon

Deekan Braal, Commander, Male Capellan
Security Officer then Tactical Officer of the Atlas during the Dominion War, Chief Tactical Officer of the Typhoon

Peili, Lt. Commander, Female Orion
Lieutenant in charge of the defense of a border station during the Dominion War, Chief Security Officer of the Typhoon

Harry Kim, Commander, Male Human
Operations Officer of the U.S.S. Voyager, Operations Officer of the Typhoon

EMH (Joe), Commander, Hologram
Chief Medical Officer of the Voyager, Chief Medical Officer of the Typhoon

7 of 9, Lt. Commander, Human/Borg Female
Served on U.S.S. Voyager, Chief Sensors Officer of the Typhoon

Riway daughter of Jaheel, Lt. Commander, Female Si’rak
Ensign on the Atlas, 1st Operations Officer of the Typhoon

Binni Ulin, Lt. Commander, Female Human
Lieutenant on the U.S.S. Lelander, Defense Officer of the Typhoon

Villec Bisaan, Lieutenant, Male Nileen
Cadet, Helmsman of the Typhoon

Milana Tuul, Lieutenant, Cardassian Female
Cadet, Navigator of the Typhoon

Saral, Lt. Commander, Female Vulcan
Asst. Chief Engineer of the Typhoon

Fealst’rak, Lieutenant, Rurutic Male
Headed a research project using a space telescope to study the galactic core, Chief Science Officer of the Typhoon

Marcos Hernandez, Lieutenant, Male Human
Combat shuttle pilot during the Dominion war, Alpha Squadron leader of the Typhoon

Rilo Gulia, Lieutenant, Male un-Joined Trill
Combat shuttle pilot during the Dominion war, Beta Squadron leader of the Typhoon

Tycho Danor, Lt. Commander, Yvethan Male
Airgroup leader of Akira class U.S.S. Jonestown during the Dominion War, Airgroup commander of the Typhoon

Yumiko Boritsolav, Lieutenant, Female Human/Gor'sic
Graduated from Starfleet academy, familiarization deployment on the U.S.S. Carthage, communications officer of the Typhoon

Others

T’prin, Senator, Vulcan Female
Federation senator and chief opponent of the FDF

Solin, Aide, Vulcan Male
Senator T’prin’s personal assistant

Bella Mavil, Reporter, Human Female
United News reporter on assignment aboard the Typhoon

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

Author’s Notes

1) Despite the often cavalier approach that most Trek writers take with travel times I decided to make it take three weeks for the ship to get to the edge of Romulan space.
2) I’ve had the grapefruit and avocado salad, it is incredible.
3) Harry Kim is in this story for a couple of reasons. Primarily he seemed to do a great job as Ops on Voyager. Second, for some odd reason I like him. Finally, he was Voyager's butt monkey. Every bad, stupid, unpleasant thing seemed to happen to him. Need someone to catch an alien virus, send Harry. Need someone to fail at love, send Harry. Need someone to impotently oppose someone's bad command decision, send Harry. As a character the guy got the short end of the stuff time and time again, usually after being jabbed in the stomach with it. And couldn't Janeway at least made him a Lieutenant?
4) The Doctor is in this story because I couldn't resist playing with his character; he's too much fun and was one of the characters who evolved the most on Voyager. I also really enjoy trying to interface artificial with biologic intelligence along with the attendant difficulties of exactly what makes a person.
5) Seven of Nine is in this fic because on Voyager no character had more room and possibility to grow and develop as much as she did. Her opportunities were as great as the Doctor's but unlike the EMH she was never allowed to grow at all. Any time she got close to some character growth some Borg part of her would freak out and she's be right back to being a drone at the end of the episode.
6) Aside from those characters they're all my own creations.
7) Enhanced compression rifle, a toy from Elite Force 2. Think a rapid fire compression rifle. I won't be bringing every toy from that game in but I'll probably bring a few.
8) The security force is a combination of the hazard team from Star Trek: Elite Force (the video game) and the MACO's from . Typical ship's security in Star Trek seems almost laughable. Honestly given the technology with internal sensors, forcefields, and environmental controls boarding a Star Fleet ship and running rampant on it seems to be a laughable prospect. Still, people do it all the time and the rubes in the golden uniforms are actually surprised at times when they run into people. Surprised! All those fancy internal sensors and they'll blindly stumble around a corner into someone. The tactical squads are going to be much better equipped, trained, and skillful at dealing with these kind of situations. Don't like it? Be happy I decided against full on power armor for the security personnel.