StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Disclaimer: ST and the Bolo franchises belong to whom they belong.

I'd like to thank CaptainChewbacca and Eleventh Century Remnant for their help with both my original version of the prologue and first two chapters of this fic and this re-write. I'd also like to thank Dave for helping me out with my original version. I'd like to thank him for the re-write but he hasn't answered my PM so Nyeah! j/k

This particular story is not going to be very heavy in action, there will be some Bolo action but this story will concentrate on development of the first Bolo and the beginning of the war against the Borg. Depending how well or not this story gets received, I am planning on writing a series of ST\Bolo stories taking place during the Borg War.

My stardate method for the fanfic is set up like this, first two digits are months, next three digits are the last three digits of the year and the two digits after the decimal are the day. For example, January 6 2398 would be Stardate 01398.06. Not terribly great but less confusing than using the myriads of stardate converters that are available on the 'net.

Please, any and all comments are welcomed.




Prologue
[Stardate 07854.18]
[Sepharis Nebula, Delta Quadrant]

Deep within the nebula, a lone starship stood motionless save for a few ports open, sucking in stellar material. Inside, the ship’s single occupant leaned back in his command chair and stared at the ceiling.

From out of nowhere a soft female voice spoke: “A centi-credit for your thoughts commander?”

The young man smiled but did not budge except to answer, “Oh Angela, I was just thinking about today.”

“What is the significance of this particular day?” The Bolo queried.

Commander Forrest sat up and faced the array of viewscreens and terminals that surrounded his view. Feeling a bit cocky, he said, “Angie, Angie, Angie. What would your brothers and sisters in the Dinochrome Brigade say if you do not know today’s significance? Don’t bother answering that. Let me rephrase the question. What is the importance of this particular day in history?”

I spent 0.00001 seconds to formulate a response to my commander but I do not respond immediately. My experience with my previous commanders taught me that they become quite unnerved if I were to answer them the moment they finish asking me a question. Instead I wait a painful second before replying.

Interesting yet disappointing over my commander’s question. Does he not know that every Bolo knows about this day? Is he testing me? Or does he not know just how important this day is for everyone? I decide to prolong this banter and observe my commander’s attitude.

“There are one thousand two hundred sixty-seven events of significance that fit your criteria commander.”

“Yes, but of all of those events, which one would stand out most to a Bolo?”

“That would be stardate 07454.18. It was the day that the first Bolo, Unit-of-the-Line 00-7734-BNT was brought online and the subsequent war against the Enemy, which lasted two hundred forty-nine years, three months, twenty days, thirteen hours and fifty-five seconds. It is the war that resulted in the transformation of the United Federation of Planets into the Galactic Concordiat.”

The commander jumped up and clapped his hands together. “Ladies and gentlemen, she has finally got it! Mind you Angela, I was referring mainly to the first half of your answer.”

Andrew placed his hands on top of the console in front of him and slightly leaned forward. He was feeling smug, thinking that he finally knew something that his Bolo forgot. Unfortunately, he was too late to realize that he made a big error in judgment.

“I never forgot about this day commander. Nor am I able to ignore the importance of Unit 00-7734-BNT's sacrifice to my brethren, myself and to the Galactic Concordiat.

You may have forgotten commander, that I have been online for one hundred seventy – one point three seven years and have engaged the Enemy in fifty – eight fleet and one hundred forty – five solo missions. I have been credited for the destruction of fifty - five Tactical Cubes, one hundred thirty – seven standard Cubes, two hundred eleven Diamonds and seven hundred twenty – two Spheres.

During the course of the war against the Enemy, I have been severely damaged four times. My current hull previously belonged to a MK XXX Bolo, Unit 30-9247-RVN or Raven by her commanders. Raven arrived at the Sol system in time to see the Enemy destroy Earth. The trauma from the destruction of Earth caused her positronic matrix along with her personality center to destroy itself in grief. Not before witnessing her commander commit suicide. Though the technicians have done their best to remove of every trace of Raven, to this day I perceive a data echo of her grief and anguish.

75,000 of my brethren with myself included, participated in the destruction of the Enemy's homeworld. In twenty – five minutes, we expended four hundred fifty million Hellbore rounds, causing four hundred fifty peta-tons of destruction into the planet. Even after the planet's atmosphere and oceans were boiled away and the planet itself shattered, we did not stop firing. When our Hellbores ran dry, we used our torpedoes and HLMs. When we ran out of those, we used our secondary Hellbores and infinite repeaters. Even then, once we expended our payload and could not fire anymore we adjusted our shields and rammed the remains of the planet until there were no fragment larger than thirty centimeters. Our determination for retribution from the Enemy's destruction of Earth fueled us and it was only eclipsed by the rage and fury of our commanders. Such combination consumed two thousand of my fellow Bolos and their commanders as they perished from the constant ramming. It was only the order from our superiors that prevented further Bolo deaths.

Victory over the Enemy would not have been possible without Unit BNT. For without him, there would be no Bolo and no way to defeat the Enemy. So no commander, I have not nor am I able to forget such an important occasion. I just was curious as to whether you knew the importance of this historic day. I am happy to know that you have sir.”

Andrew slumped down in his chair, utterly speechless. Without meaning and without malice, he was chastised and set in his place. Though he knew of this day's importance, he had forgotten that Angela was one of the few remaining Bolos that took part in the Great War. The scars of which is still being felt throughout the Galactic Concordiat, Gone was Earth, it's moon, Andor, Romulus, Remus, Betazed, Ferenginar, Q'onos, Gorn Empire and even the Organians along with their planet perished. The United Federation of Planets collapsed and in it's place rose the Galactic Concordiat with Centauri Prime in the Alpha Centauri system being humanity's newest homeworld.

Just thinking about the devastation and what Angela said made Andrew depressed.

Did I ever put my foot in my mouth. He thought. Ugh. That's it! I'm going to take a nap before I end up tasting my other foot.

“Angela, what is the status on the resupply and refuel?” Commander Forrest asked as he got up from his chair and began walking to the door to his quarters that lie behind and to the right of the command center.

“Secondary and tertiary fuel reserves are at maximum capacity. Primary fuel reserves are at five percent and increasing. Estimated time until capacity is two point one four minutes. Anti-matter production is at maximum capacity and will be completed in four point seven nine hours. Hellbore round production will commence after the primary fuel reserve is at capacity and the anti-matter production has ceased. Once commenced, the Hellbore round production will be completed in an estimated time of three point eight four hours.”

By the time the commander had reached the door, Angela was halfway finished her report. Before the button to open the door to his quarters, he turned around, faced the command center and waited for her to finish.

“Thank you. I will be in my quarters so you'll be in command until I return. Split your resources in the fuel and ammo production evenly. I do not want us caught with our pants down.... figuratively speaking,that is. Maintain Full Readiness Mode until further notice and you are authorized to go into Battle Reflex Mode should the need arise.”

“Aye, Aye commander.”

I watch as my commander enters his quarters and the door slide shut. Though it is within my capabilities, I do not intrude in his privacy. I have learned from previous experiences that my commanders value their privacy and that they take a dim view of me prying into their private affairs.

I scan the sector and after sixty point three three seconds, my sensors show no hostiles.

I am not impressed. Being in the Sepharis Nebula has degraded my scanning ability by twenty percent. This has had a negative effect on the speed and accuracy of my sensors. The nebula's effect has also created thirty four blind spots that my medium and long range sensors cannot penetrate. From my previous scans I had logged the co-ordinates of each blind spot and passed the data to my commander's terminal. I was extremely satisfied that my commander agreed to my assessment that the blind spots must be examined closely at the earliest possible convenience.

I devote twenty six milliseconds of my time to adjust the fuel and Hellbore round production as per the commander's orders. Once satisfied, I devote a small part of myself to maintenance and to scanning the sector while I place most of my attention to the data packet I received a week ago from the Bolo Historical Society in advance of the four hundredth anniversary of Unit 00-7734-BNT's creation. I have not opened the packet, yet I already know what is contains. The data packet contains the most current account of when the very first Bolo was built and activated. I am most anxious to view this information and I proceed to open the packet. But within seventy four point six two three nano-seconds, I receive an alert from one of my sub-routines. It has detected an energy spike from one of the blind spots. The spike lasted for thirty nine point nine two milliseconds before disappearing. I deduce a thirty seven percent chance that there is a vessel within that blind spot and a sixty percent chance that it is an aberration. The final three percent chance being the Enemy. I log all related data to my commander's terminal in his quarters and return my attention once again to the data packet. I open it and examine the data closely.

[Elsewhere]

…..P........power .......rest .......ored .............at .......zero .........point ........ zero one ....................per .......cent .......percent .....per .............cen ...................t.
Cat .....ca .....catast .......rophic .......failure ...........failure .......... failurefailurefailurefailurefailurefailurefailure ......inprimarysecondarycomputercore .......core ….....core …...........
Initiat........ ing.........e........mer.......emer..........emerg.......gen........ gen........ cy.......... repair................ repair......... repair.......................repa...ir........ repairrepairrepairrepairrepairrepairrepairrepairrepairrepair........ rep---------

My dear, I would truly love to see more of this story.

Indeed. There is something about this, even thou it was so short that has bound me to it. And now I wish to find out what happens next. So keep up the good work.

LadyTevar wrote:My dear, I would truly love to see more of this story.

Coming from you, that is great praise.

I've got the first two chapters written down and I am in the process albeit a slow one, in typing up the first chapter before submitting it to my proofreaders.

Depending on my RL issues, I might have the first chapter posted sometime this week.

This story is more a mesh of a Star Trek and Bolo story than a Bolo in Star Trek so at least for this story there will be some non-Bolo related material before I have the Bolo in the forefront. Soon though if this goes well, I'll have a more Bolo-centric story written.

Nevertheless, I'm glad you are enjoying it.

Purple wrote:Indeed. There is something about this, even thou it was so short that has bound me to it. And now I wish to find out what happens next. So keep up the good work.

Thanks.

You put a BOLO in Star Trek?

That's nearly as bad (for Star Trek) as dropping the entire pre-invasion Vong fleet in the middle of Borg territory!

Review the prologue piece; it's more complicated than that.

Interesting start, can't wait to see more.

Solauren wrote:You put a BOLO in Star Trek?

That's nearly as bad (for Star Trek) as dropping the entire pre-invasion Vong fleet in the middle of Borg territory!

Well Star Trek TOS briefly did have something like a Bolo and besides, it is not a stretch that the Federation could develop a Bolo of their own.

I just have this image of Talking Tanks ripping apart Borg cubes now...

Actually, I kind of like that image...

Heh.

Yeah, we saw robot warships in TOS; the technology exists, but in the canon Star Trek timeline was too buggy to be useful. If their AI technology were better (to the point where loyal units would greatly outnumber rogues at any one time and easily hunt them down), they'd be quite useful.

More please.

I apologize for the delay but the first chapter is almost ready for posting. RL issues and the fact I forgot to add the antagonist to the chapter is delaying the release. It'll be up soon.

Here's the first chapter. This and the second will be ST centric before bringing in the Bolo. Enjoy and feel free to comment and ask questions.




[Stardate 07454.18]
[Starbase Venture]

*chime*

A Mk IV Data series android patiently waited for the station's captain to reply. Instead, after standing in front of her office door for over two minutes, Lieutenant Jensen Pohl pressed the door chime again.

There was still no reply. The lieutenant began to become concerned for the captain's well-being, wondering if she had fallen ill or worse. He was about to contact Commander Franklin Holt for instructions but was interrupted by the voice of an annoyed Captain Lenora Dewey, yelling from the other side of the door.

“This better be good.”

The door slid open allowing the lieutenant to enter. Jensen stepped inside and surveyed the office. The interior was a mess with data PADDs strewn all over the floor and several bottles of alcohol littered around the captain's desk. The captain herself was not any better. She was slumped in her chair at her desk, holding up her head with her hand and her elbows on the desk.

“Are you in need of medical assistance, captain?” Lieutenant Pohl asked.

“No I do not! You came here just to ask me that?” The captain sourly replied. “If that is all then you can get lost, lieutenant.”

“That is not possible, captain. I have a copy of the starbase's layout in my positronic matrix. It would be quite impossible for me to be lost.”

Irritated, while keeping her head down, the captain rummaged around her desk drawer and checked herself for her hand phaser she wanted to use to throw at the android but was unable to locate it.

Lenora groaned when she remembered why she didn't have it. Crap! I forgot that I lost it in that poker game with that Tamarian trader. Well at least I had it disabled before gambling it away.

She suddenly looked up at the android with wide eyes when she suddenly realized that when she patted herself for her phaser that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her outfit.

This is embarrassing. Poker game again. I hope Vanessa enjoys them -- She stopped in mid-thought before asking herself, I don't remember taking them off!

Lenora looked back down and noticed a faint whiff of perfume from her musky body odor. She smiled for a second before remembering why she wanted her phaser in the first place.

“Get to the point lieutenant. Why are you here?”

“I am here to remind you that Admiral Gregory Laumer will arrive in-system in one hour and three minutes. He will be arriving onboard a Nebula - A class starship, the U.S.S. Integrity, which is commanded by Captain Edwolden Vorshempski. The U.S.S. Integrity is overdue for extensive maintenance so the necessary work will be done here as there is no other facility currently available.”

“Damn!” Lenora cursed as she raised her head up. “I thought the Integrity wasn't supposed to arrive until thirteen hundred?”

“That is correct captain. My internal chronometer indicates that it is twelve-eleven.”

The captain cursed again and quickly rose up but sat back down just as fast. Waves of nausea overcame her and she turned away from her desk as she threw up into a trash bin. Once finished, she wiped her mouth with a nearby napkin.

Slowly, Lenora raised her head and spoke to the station computer. “Computer, page Doctor Simmons.” After a five second delay a voice answered, “Doctor Simmons here.”

“This is Captain Dewey. Beam to my office a hypo of your hangover cure please. I'm going to need it.”

“Aye captain. I've anticipated your call so I have a dose ready in the chiller. Give me a moment and it'll be beamed to your desk in no time at all.”

“Thank you. Dewey out.”

A few seconds past and the hypo spray materialized. Lenora carefully applied it to her neck and injected the contents. Immediately, her head began to clear up and she was able to get up from her chair without collapsing. After carefully placing the hypo spray back on her desk, she looked around her office and then saw her reflection from the surface of her desk.

“This royally sucks.” She said with despair. Still looking at her reflected image, she saw that her hair was completely disheveled giving an appearance that she had a lion's mane.

Looking down at herself, she groaned audibly. Lenora still wore her two piece strapless, knee length leather dress from when she first wore them on Friday. Worse, not only was she wearing the same outfit for the past three days but it was now covered in various food and alcohol stains.

Finally, she noticed the stench about her. Though she knew that she smelled of booze and bad body odor but she did not realize until now the severity of the smells. It was a miracle she was able to pick up the Risan freighter captain's perfume.

Something is not right. She thought. The captain examined her outfit and noticed that her skirt did not match her top. Not only did the colors not match but the patterns were different as well. Lenora gave a quizzical look at Jensen and asked, “Lieutenant, I know you have been tasked as my personal assistant and bodyguard, so do you know what did during my off hours this past weekend?”

Jensen cocked his head slightly to one side for a moment before replying. “Yes captain. You were as one would say “partying hard” and during that time no harm came to you. You wore your modified outfit since disembarking from Captain Vanessa Rese's freighter.”

“Good.” Lenora pulled the dress top off from over her head and walked towards the door to her quarters that was adjacent to the office. As she walked, she skipped on one leg and then alternated as she removed her skirt.

“Do me a favor Jensen, can you get maintenance or yourself to clean up this office before the admiral's arrival?”

“Yes captain.”

“Thank you, You are dismissed.” With that said and done, Lenora disappeared into her quarters.

[U.S.S. Integrity]
[Admiral Gregory Laumer's Quarters]

A large middle-aged man seated by the dining room table was perusing the stacks of PADDs that were on the table. Each PADD contained a personnel file for each member of the starbase's senior staff and all department heads.

He ran his fingers through his salt and peppered hair as he read Captain Lenora Dewey's bio.

Date of birth, 04416.02..... Graduated from Starfleet Academy San Francisco campus on stardate 06438.18..... Attained the rank of Captain on stardate 01446.01..... Court-martialled five year ago for negligence causing the deaths of fifty six of the U.S.S. Bonaparte's crew, the deaths of sixteen hundred colonists and the destruction of the Foel colony. Sentenced to a minimum of twenty years to command the Starbase Venture with no chance for transfer or retirement before then.

Admiral Gregory Laumer paused for a moment. Foel colony? Now why is that name so familiar? He searched deep within his mind and found what he was looking for. Ahh yes, the Borg attack of '49. A single Cube attacked an anti-matter processing facility on the moon of Foel IV. The Borg were defeated by a virus that was uploaded from the U.S.S. Bonaparte into the Cube. But instead of disconnecting the power sources of the Cube and drones, it caused a feedback loop resulting in the overloading of the power sources. The resulting explosions breached the force-fields that held the stored anti-matter. The processing plant was vaporized, the moon was shattered and the Bonaparte was severely damaged. Pieces of the moon got pulled into the planet due to it's gravitational pull. In the end, the colony was quickly evacuated with only 1600 fatalities out of 258,000. The planet was rendered uninhabitable. U.S.S. Bonaparte lost both nacelles, hull breached in thirty eight places and suffered fifty six fatalities.

Damn, but how? He looked at the PADD again and found the answer. Ahhh... I see. She was responsible for designing the virus but failed to adequately test the virus before using it. Such sloppiness! She should have waited for reinforcements before attacking the Borg.

Bah, kids these days. All gung-ho, trying to prove that they can handle trouble like the Borg on their own. This Captain Dewey should have known better. But to destroy an M Class planet by sheer incompetence? I'm surprised that she kept her rank let alone her life. My guess that the only thing that saved her was because of Starfleet's current severe manpower shortage. But I wonder what else her file says.

He read the rest of Captain Dewey's profile. Diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. After the Borg incident she became an alcoholic..... Stopped attending therapy sessions for her disorders after ten meetings. Unofficial reports that she has taken stimulants for her alcoholism..... Unofficial reports of disorderly conduct during off hours. Lieutenant Jensen Pohl assigned by Starfleet HQ to be the captain's personal assistant and to keep her out of trouble.

The admiral gently placed the PADD on the table and sighed. He began to wonder if his project was going to succeed if her crew were going to be the same. Greg was about to reach for the next profile when he noticed that the ship was no longer in transwarp. About the same time as he looked outside, his combadge chirped.

Tapping his combadge he answered, “Laumer here.”

“This is Captain Vorshempski sir. You wanted to know when we reached the Takala system. We'll be traveling the rest of the way at full impulse. The estimated time of arrival is twenty five minutes.”

“Thank you captain. Laumer out.”

Picking up another PADD, the admiral became conscious of the fact that he already read it. In actuality, Captain Dewey's profile was the last one. There was some reservations about several officers and scientists. He didn't like the fact that discipline wasn't being strictly enforced. Neither was he comfortable with the idea of it being a commercial hub. Nevertheless, the admiral did not have much of a choice in the matter. There were only two places he could get the project worked on. It was either Starbase Venture or the Pakled Learning Center about Stuff.

It was only because he had the full support of Starfleet, plus the Federation's modification and repealing of several laws regarding the rights for Artificially Sentient Entities, that his project was green lit. Even then it was an uphill battle. Almost every single science counsel, institutes and research facilities refused to back his project in fear that Project Dinochrome was going to be a repeat of the old M5 fiasco.

The admiral let out a sigh, got up from his chair and straightened out his uniform. He then walked over to the kitchen counter, picked up a bottle of some sort vodka variant, poured it into a shot glass and picked it up before walking over to the nearest viewport.

Looking out, he was able to see Starbase Venture. My god! That starbase is huge! He thought. The starbase was a hive of activity as what looked like ships and shuttles of various sizes were entering and exiting the starbase through the many docking pods while the ships too big to be docked were stationed outside alongside one another.

Impressive and worrisome. Security is going to be an issue here if my project is to be developed. From the starbase, the admiral turned his attention to the gas giant it orbited. The planet was about twice the size of Jupiter which although it's official name was Takala II, those onboard the starbase dubbed it “Crusher” because of its very high gravity.

Finally the admiral looked at an object that orbited Takala II, opposite to Starbase Venture. Son of a bitch, its true! They do have a Borg Cube! Greg furrowed his brow in disappointment. What in blazes possessed Starfleet to keep an intact Borg Cube, especially here of all places! It was a question upon myriads that he had for Captain Dewey.

Despite a host of potential security and personnel issues, the admiral was hoping that maybe, just maybe, Project Dinochrome will have a fighting chance.

Turning away from the viewport, he took a couple of steps before the ship's klaxon went off. Downing the vodka, he put down the shot glass before tapping his combadge. “Admiral Laumer to Captain Vorshempski. Ed, what's going on up there?”

A heartbeat later a reply, “Vorshempski here. Admiral, we detected an explosion from deck three on the starbase. One moment admiral.” There was a thirty second pause before the captain resumed. “Sorry about that sir. I've been informed that the explosion came from the captain's office. They don't know at the moment what is going on but they have told us to proceed as normal but to detain any suspicious starships if necessary. As a matter of precaution, I've placed this ship under red alert and I'll be putting together a boarding team if needed. We will be docking in about two minutes.”

“Thank you captain. May I make a suggestion, once we dock, place at least two security personnel at each key areas of the ship and with the rest, once we dock, set up a perimeter to cover every entry point to the ship, just in case the culprits decide to strike against us.”

“Will do sir. I'll also add transporter jammers in those key areas.”

“Agreed. Laumer out.”

After picking up the vodka bottle from the kitchen, Greg returned to the viewport. He could see a small jagged hole near the top of the starbase with an expanding cloud of debris surrounding it.

“Ah hell.” He muttered. Looking at the bottle then back to the scene of destruction, he added. “I don't think one bottle is going to be enough.”

[Moments before the explosion]
[Starbase Venture]
[Captain's Office]

Lieutenant Jensen had decided to clean the office on his own because he didn't want to overburden the maintenance staff. He had been at it for over five minutes and the office still somewhat look the same. Undaunted, he kept up cleaning. By the ten minute mark, the office started to look respectable. It was then that he noticed a small package hidden underneath a stack of PADDs on top of the captain's desk. Curious, he picked it up.

The package was cube shaped with the dimensions of ten centimeters for its length, width and height, wrapped in a generic brown paper with no distinguishing features that he could discern. There was almost no writing to indicate the sender save for the captain's name and the letters “WAFOB”.

He accessed his database for any individuals named “WAFOB”, and when that failed he switched to names of organized groups. Almost immediately he found a potential match. Curious as to why a terrorist organization would send a package to the captain, Jensen picked it up and looked it over but this time hoping to discern the contents without resorting to opening it up. As he picked it up, he at once knew that he had made a grievous error. The package started to glow and grow hot. Knowing that there was no time to beam the bomb away and that the captain was just next door, Jensen ran towards the large viewports and shielded the bomb with his body. Within seconds the bomb went off, vaporizing most of the lieutenant, destroying everything within the office and buckling the bulkheads. His damaged head along with along with whatever that wasn't fastened to the station was sucked out into space as the viewports shattered from the blast before the emergency force fields came online.

Meanwhile, the captain had just exited the sonic shower and reached for her bathrobe. She examined her face in the mirror before the the force of the explosion shoved her against the mirror. Her forehead smashed against the mirror, shattering it into thousands of tiny shards before she collapsed, hitting her head on the faucet then the sink before finally hitting the floor and falling into unconsciousness.

[Unimatrix One]
[Queen's Chamber]

Hidden deep within her chamber, the Borg Queen was tirelessly overseeing the Collective, never at once turning her attention away from even a single drone. Numbers, words, images and voices flowed through her mind like water in a fast moving river. Yet despite the seemingly chaotic thoughts, the Queen was able to see the order within it and used the information to continue to improve and expand the mighty Borg Collective.

But lately things were a bit different. Normally the Queen would not waste resources worrying over an inferior species, in fact she did not recall any previous instances of such a scenario, except for one single species. The one species that defied the Collective at every turn. Species 5618. Just the mere thought of them nearly sent her in a rage, yet she maintained her composure. At first she tried to ignore them and purely concentrate on her Collective but over time it was getting harder and harder to do so. It did not help that whenever one of her Cubes encountered one or several of their 'Starfleet' vessels it invariably ended up as an embarrassment for her. Worse were the humiliation that just one of their starships managed to penetrate the Unimatrix One complex and also her near death by the older version of Species 5618's Janeway.

She could no longer ignore them and decided to take some unconventional steps to dealing with them. Through the trillions of minds of her drones, several drones from one of her cubes had let her know that she was being contacted. She knew immediately who it was and ordered them to open up communications with her agent.

“Is it done?” The Borg Queen asked coolly.

“Yes my queen. The bomb did go off but unfortunately the captain was not in her office. But there are rumors that her assistant, an android was destroyed in the explosion.” The agent replied. He kept his head down and he wore a hooded robe to obscure his identity.

“That is not acceptable, vermin. Failure is not an option. I'm downloading into you a virus that will shut down the starbase and take care of the captain. Have it uploaded directly into one of their main computers on my say so and then proceed with the next phase of my plan. Succeed and I'll reward you as one of my drones.” She paused for a second before adding, “Fail me again and I'll have you destroyed. Now leave!”

“Yes my queen. I will not fail you again.” The agent answered and raised his head to look directly at the queen. “I promise you that I will succeed. The Borg Collective will rise! All else is irrelevant!”

The Borg Queen did not say anything except to cut communications with her agent.

I don't really need her dead, The queen spoke in her mind. I just need them distracted while I get the Cube crewed again. Once that happen then those “humans” will truly suffer.

With that thought in mind, the queen smiled in her alcove and continued making preparations for the oncoming war.

Interesting, we get to see what happened to start the war.

For some reason, when I read about her I keep imagining Janeway...

*nudge*

DKeith2011 wrote:*nudge*

Sorry about that. I have written down in my notebook about 72 pages worth but I have been dragging my feet as of late in typing it up. Winter blues I guess, but not to fear I have not abandoned this fic. I've got about 1400 words typed up so far on the second chapter but I have a lot more to go before the chapter is done.

Enigma wrote:

DKeith2011 wrote:*nudge*

Sorry about that. I have written down in my notebook about 72 pages worth but I have been dragging my feet as of late in typing it up. Winter blues I guess, but not to fear I have not abandoned this fic. I've got about 1400 words typed up so far on the second chapter but I have a lot more to go before the chapter is done.

You know I was going to make a snarky comment about you still using a notebook, but I'm thinking it works. Writing in the notebook probably engages you more fully in the creative process, and transferring it via typing provides an opportunity to revise. it definitely works, you have a pretty clear idea of the story your trying to tell.

@Themightytom - You are very much correct and besides, the Mk.1 notebook ( ) is a lot more versatile and I can use it in areas where it is inappropriate to bring a laptop.

Here's the first half of the second chapter. Not as great as I'd like but I don't want to too much time re-writing it or I'll never finish this story. Once again thanks to my proofreaders, Eleventh Century Remnant, LadyTevar and Dave.

I've added a character list to let everyone know who's who.

Starbase Venture

Captain Lenora Dewey - Station Commander - Human
Commander Franklin Holt - First Officer - Human
Chief Science Officer (CScO) Lieutenant Commander Sobol - Second Officer (SOW-bowl) - Vulcan
Chief Maintenance Engineer Lieutenant (CME) Commander Lonefa Loenalth (Lo-NEE-fa)(LOW-wen-alth) - Human
Chief Medical Officer (CMO)Doctor Samantha Templeton - Human
Chief Security Officer (CSeO) Lieutenant Fawichla Yocoisap (FAW-which-lah) (Yoh-COY-sap) - Human
Captain's Yeoman Lieutenant Jensen Pohl - Android

U.S.S. Integrity

Admiral Gregory Laumer - Human
Captain Edwolden Vorshempski - Human
Commander Vazel Vorshempski - First Officer - Bajoran
Chief Security Officer Lieutenant Commander Verpid Shahl - Human

[Deck One - C&C]

The C&C shook for a couple of seconds before stopping. Immediately, the station went on Red Alert and began an automatic lock-down sequence. The PADDs on the first officer's swivel console clattered onto the floor and Commander Franklin Holt swore. “Status report! What the hell just happened?”

The C&C by now was a buzz with activity and a young Andorian security officer seated in the pit below tapped rapidly on his console. One of his antennae twitched as he turned to shout over the din at the captain, “There was an explosion detected on Deck Three in the captain's office, sir. Massive damage to the office causing the emergency forcefields to activate. Severe damage to the captain's quarters and to an empty suite. Moderate to minor damage to outlying suites on Deck Three and on Decks Two and Four. Captain Dewey is alive other than that I do not know of her condition but she has been beamed to sickbay. Unfortunately sir, I have not been able to locate Lieutenant Jensen Pohl. His last reported location was in the captain's office.”

Swinging the console away from himself, Franklin stood up and gripped the railing in from of him. Damn, I hope she's fine. Who the hell would do something like this? He said in his mind before speaking up, “Thank you Lieutenant. Dispatch a security team to Deck Three and secure the whole deck until there is a formal investigation done. Then have all available security personnel do a complete sweep of the station in case there is any more bomb or bombs on-board.

Furthermore, have every piece of debris blown out into space be beamed to Cargo Hold sixteen-oh-eff-seven. Maybe we will be able to locate our missing lieutenant and see if we can find any clues as to what set off the explosion.

Once that is done, shut down all transporters and keep them offline until the culprit or culprits are found. In addition, jam any transporter activity to and from the station but give out a warning beforehand, I do not want to have any accidental deaths here. Those wishing to leave or enter the station must do so through shuttles.”

“Aye sir.”

Franklin nodded and then turned his attention to the female communications officer, “Has the U.S.S. Integrity contacted us?”

The ensign swung around in her chair and looked up, “Yes sir. They have asked if we needed any assistance.”

“Tell them to maintain course, but if they detect any suspicious activities along the way then they are to deal with them.”

“Aye, aye sir. Relaying the message.”

I told her that one of these days her antics will come to bite her in the ass. Now she's got not only herself hurt but Pohl's probably destroyed! Having pushed himself away from the railing, the commander turned around and walked over to the desk of the station's third in command. Franklin stooped over and gripped the sides of the second officer's desk.

“Sobol, get Yocoisap to tell everyone in security to be on the lookout for Lieutenant Pohl. He's not on sensors nor on our surveillance cameras. Either he has been destroyed, damaged in a way that we cannot detect him or he's been kidnapped. Nevertheless, he's a high priority and we need him back in order to figure out what happened.

Also, besides having temporary control over the station while I deal with the Integrity, head up the investigation and coordinate with the CSeO and the CME in order to get to the bottom of this. Any questions?”

The Vulcan second officer raised an eyebrow and replied, “I do not have any questions at the moment. If in the event I do have questions, I will no doubt contact you.”

“Good, you have control. The Integrity should docking soon and I do not want to be late. Afterward, I'm going to head over to sickbay and check up on the captain. Keep me posted.”

“Yes commander.”

The commander stood up and walked over to the nearest turbo-lift which by coincidence opened up its doors to let out an ensign. Got to keep cool. Can not look too upset in front of everyone.

The trip lasted about three minutes from the C&C to Docking Pod Four. The turbo-lift doors slid open and the commander stumbled out.

Never again am I going to ask the computer to increase the velocity of the turbo-lift to its safe maximum speed. Franklin thought while keeping himself propped up by leaning against the bulkhead with one arm. Two hundred kilometers per hour?!?

Composing himself, he straightened out his uniform and walked over to the Docking Pod's control room. Upon entering, the commander noticed there was only two people manning the control room instead of four.

“Aren't there supposed to be four of you? Where are the other two?” Franklin asked a junior Bajoran crewman.

The crewman, a Bajoran, turned away from her station and looked at the Commander nervously.

“Umm, Petty Officer Szinko felt it was necessary to let the contract workers go home early. She felt it was necessary as a security precaution since the U.S.S. Integrity will be docking here instead of the upper docking bays.”

Franklin nodded to the crewman in approval. “Excellent thinking. So what is our status, crewman....?”

“Jemma. Jemma Nyra sir.”

“Thank you. What is our status Crewman Jemma?”

Nyra turned to her console and began typing. “Security here has been doubled and we're locked down until the Integrity docks. Also, all unauthorized ships have been relocated to other docking pods as a security precaution.”

Commander Holt nodded again and then pointed past the control room viewscreen towards a five hundred meter long freighter that looked like a long string of beads. “What hasn't this one been moved?”

“That one belongs to Captain Dewey. It is a Rigellan Noctura Class medium freighter. A three hundred year old warp four ship that was bequeathed to the captain about three years ago after the passing of a friend of hers.

The captain had the ship's propulsion and power generation disabled and the ship is pretty much clamped to the docking port until such time the captain decides what to do with it.”

“Is it secure?”

“Yes sir. I have scanned the ship myself several times over. In addition, a security team has also made a detailed sweep and then sealed the ship.”

“Good work crewman. How long before the U.S.S. Integrity arrives?”

The Bajoran looked at her console and then to the Commander, “They are here now, sir.”

“Well? Let them in.”

“A-Aye, Aye sir.” Nyra stammered in reply.

Nodding to her fellow crewman, the both of them worked to bring in the heavy cruiser.

“U.S.S. Integrity, this is Docking Pod Four Control. Sorry for the delay, but you are cleared to dock. Please use the upper right docking port. Your designated lane will be illuminated, so please remain within it.

Please note that we are under lock down, therefore all transporter use has been shut down except for emergency use only. Transportation to and from the starbase can be made by either through the docking corridors, shuttles or you can request the use of our transport lifts. Thank you and welcome to Starbase Venture.”

Franklin grinned at Crewman Jemma, “Good work, crewman.”

Nyra just nodded as she paid more attention to the incoming starship than to her superior.

The translucent viewscreen zoomed to the docking pod doors as the upper door began to open, revealing the Nebula Type II Class heavy cruiser. Once fully opened, two rows of lights were projected from the designated lane.

The Integrity, using only its thrusters, shifted its position to between the two rows of holographic white lights and entered the docking pod causing to the force field to shimmer as it went along. The moment the ship reached the halfway mark, it cut power to the thrusters as the docking pod took hold of it with it's tractor beams, moving it gracefully to it's berth.

Once the Integrity stopped, the upper pod door closed and a multitude of large cables with magnetic clamps, shot down from the ceiling, grabbing hold on top of the ship. At the same time, several docking arms came out and took hold of Integrity on it's starboard side, stabilizing it. Finally, several collapsible tubes were extended towards every access hatch on the ship's starboard side.

When the Integrity got the go ahead for disembarkation, the ship was a beehive of activity. A dozen shuttles flew out and unloaded the ship's security personnel, then returning for another round. With the assistance of the starbase's security, a perimeter was set up on the platform, securing all access to the ship.

Meanwhile, Commander Holt left the control room and made his way to the ship. At the perimeter checkpoint, Franklin was saluted by the security stationed there. He nodded to them and smiled before a crewman in the security detail directed him the way to the access tube that the admiral was going to use.

Franklin waited patiently for twenty minutes and was beginning to wonder if he was directed to the wrong tube when at that moment the admiral arrived along with the Integrity's Captain Edwolden Vorshempski and first officer Commander Vazel Vorshempski.

Franklin saluted the trio. “Greetings, Admiral Laumer.” He noded to the other two before returning his attention to the admiral. “ Welcome aboard Starbase Venture, the first and so far the only jointly owned and operated starbase between Starfleet and the private sector. I sincerely apologize but the captain could not be here due to an unfortunate incident.”

“I understand, commander and thank you.” The admiral replied. “We would have been here sooner but I needed to take care of a private matter first before coming here.” May she torment the Q. He thought.

“As you may or may not know, this lovely couple here is the Integrity's captain and first officer, Captain Edwolden and Commander Vazel Vorshempski.”

Smiling at the couple, Franklin commented, “I've only known of them through their personnel files.” He paused for a second before saying, “Interesting reading by the way.”

Edwolden's eyes widened while Vazel blushed.

Chuckling, the admiral spoke, “Interesting indeed, but let us be serious. How is Captain Dewey? We understood that there was an explosion in her office? Did she survive?”

Barely. Franklin stopped smiling and his face took on a stern look. “She's alive and that is all I know about her condition. She was in her quarters next to the office when the explosion occurred. Unfortunately, there is a good chance that her personal assistant, Lieutenant Jensen Pohl, may have been in the office at the time. Our internal sensor logs placed him at the office at the time of the blast but lost his signal afterward. But we have all available debris beamed to a cargo bay in hopes that maybe Lieutenant Pohl survived in some form and to see if there are any evidence of the bomber or what type of bomb used. But based on the blast, I'd guess that it was anti-matter based.”

“Good to hear that she's alive, commander and sorry for the loss of Lieutenant Pohl. Is it possible to see her in sickbay?”

“It is possible, I suppose. I was planning to head over there after I took the three of you to your quarters, but if you'd like, we could head there first.”

Smiling, the admiral gave Franklin a hard pat on the back. “That would be great!” Turning to the Vorshempskis, “You two, get some rest and enjoy whatever this station has to offer. Tomorrow I want the both of you to be at the conference room by oh-nine-hundred.”

Suddenly the admiral realized that he did not know the location of the conference room. He was about to ask the commander but Franklin was one step ahead of him.

“It'll be on Deck Two, room two dash four bee.”

“Right, two dash four bee it is. Thank you Commander Holt. So be there by then and bring along both your security and engineering chiefs because they'll be needed. Dismissed.”

Franklin looked over at the nearest group of security personnel and motioned two of them over. Without wasting any time, the two Lore class androids marched over to the senior officers. Both of them saluted in unison and one asked, “How may we be of assistance?”

Returning the salute, Franklin answered, “At ease men. I want the two of you to escort Captain and Commander Vorshempski to there quarters and stay by them wherever they want to go in the starbase. For the duration of their stay, the both of you will in essence be their bodyguards. You'll be rotating shifts with two other of your fellow men. Contact Lieutenant Commander Sobol for the location of the quarters. Any questions?”

The same security crewman replied, “Yes sir, I have a question. Will the admiral and yourself also need escorts?”

“No need. I'll take care of Admiral Laumer and there is a security detail in place once I take the admiral to his quarters. Anything else?”

In unison, both men shook their heads.

“Good. You're dismissed.”

“Aye, Aye sir.” They replied as one before taking on their new duties.

As if on cue, one of the starbase's air-shuttles landed next to the four senior officers and its pilot exited the shuttle. The androids and the Vorshempskis boarded and the shuttle lifted off, flew into the docking arm and into the main body.

Moments after the first shuttle left, another one landed on the same spot as it's predecessor, except this time the shuttle's pilot stayed onboard as the two men took their seats. Once they were seated comfortably, the shuttle took off.

As they flew through the docking arm, the admiral spoke up while staring out the front.

“Tell me commander, may I call you Frank?”

“You may.”

“Good, good. You can call me Greg if you wish. As I was going to say, this starbase is a lot different than any other starbase or space station in the Federation that I've been to. Isn't this starbase supposed to be a Research and Development facility?”

The shuttle began to slow down as they reached the starbase's cylindrical hub. What the admiral saw made his jaw drop. The hub was teeming with life. Countless shuttles, carriers, personal hover vehicles and tiny starships flew everywhere in an orderly fashion while countless more beings of all kinds, walk the pedestrian pathways along the side of the inner and outer walls of the hub. Power conduits, support beams, corridors and commercial walkways connected to and from the inner and outer sections of the hub in a seemingly random fashion.

Franklin gave the admiral an amused look. “This starbase was constructed about a half century ago as a pure R&D facility. The largest in fact, but it was supposed to be constructed in a fairly isolated region, away from most warp traffic. But as the Federation expanded over the years, more and more ship traffic came closer to the starbase until it became necessary to relocate most personnel and their top secret R&D projects to more secure locations.

Fifteen years ago, Starfleet had decided to remove the mid-section and leave the upper and lower sections connected to each other as a cost cutting measure. Someone had suggested that Starfleet could make money by selling a fifty-one percent stake in the mid-section to the public. It took some intense negotiations but in the end Starfleet Command relented. Not long after, many corporations and private citizens bought a stake in the starbase and moved in. Captain Dewey, myself and a few other officers have bought some shares but the captain somehow managed to purchase a two percent stake. Scuttlebutt has it that Starfleet Command lent her the funds in order for them to maintain a controlling interest.

Five years ago, around the time the captain was transferred here, the Venture consortium that oversaw the day to day duties of the mid-section, petitioned Starfleet Command for approval to expand the mid-section, doubling its size and adding a docking ring for small ships. Command was at first hesitant to approve such a lofty project but in the end would only agree to the expansion if Starfleet were to do the expansion, which the consortium readily agreed.

It took two years of non-stop construction, but in the end the mid-section had doubled in width and several docking pods were attached so that the civilians ships could dock at the starbase without needing to use the upper or lower sections.”

While the commander spoke, the shuttle flew slowly into the traffic and slowed down even further as it became heavy.

The admiral was looking at everything and was feeling awestruck like a child entering a candy store for the very first time. Then something piqued his curiosity. “Was there any left behind of those top secret projects, either by necessity or by choice?”

The commander paused for a moment to think. “There have been a few of them left in storage. Mostly large, bulky prototypes and research while top secret, wasn't important enough to take with them.”

“Any of them useful?”

“I don't understand, sir. What do you mean, useful?”

“Can any of the projects be used in an offensive or defensive capability?”

“It is possible but I do not see how. The most recent project stored here is at least twenty years old. But if you want, I can have someone compile a list for you to look over.”

“It would be great if I can have it by tonight.” The admiral paused as something caught his eye, “Frank, is it just me or did I just see an old Miranda class starship docked in here?”

Moving over to where Admiral Laumer was seated, Franklin saw what the admiral was staring at. Roughly thirty decks below them, attached to the pedestrian walkway on the outer hub was indeed the antiquated, egg shelled colored starship.

“That ship used to be the U.S.S. Insatiable. She was mothballed for sixty years before being bought out. It is now a five star hotel. The Insatiable isn't the only mothballed starship here. There's an Oberth class that is now a restaurant and recreation center, a Defiant that now serves as a free clinic and we even have the saucer section from a Galaxy class starship that currently houses a holo-suite rental company.”

Greg let out a long whistle. “My god man! This place looks almost like Tokyo, back on Earth.”

“I'll take you word for it, sir.”

The air-shuttle then began to climb up above the traffic and through an access point that led to the starbase's upper section's massive docking bays.

In contrast to the bustling hub of the mid section, the upper section was deathly quiet. The bays were empty save for one, in which that ship was half way through its refit.

Puzzled at the multitude of available docking bays, the admiral turned to Franklin and asked, “If you do not mind me asking, but why wasn't the Integrity docked here instead of being where it is now?”

“It is because we are waiting for the materials and equipment to do the overhaul and retrofit of the Integrity. The upper section can dock at least fifty starships but we haven't had to do anything greater than minor repairs since the starbase came online. The equipment we do have is badly outdated.

We were supposed to have the materials and equipment on hand by last week but the freighter that has it has yet to un-dock from Earth Spacedock. The last thing I heard was that the freighter captain did not have all of the necessary paperwork needed to pass customs even though the paperwork should have been ready the moment the freighter arrived to pick it up.”

The admiral's mood suddenly soured and the commander noticed it. Damned Vulcans! You won't get the best of me!

“Something wrong, sir?”

“You could say that.”

Franklin decided not to push further and instead to let the topic drop.

Both men remained quiet for the rest of the trip until they landed. Once out, the commander let Admiral Laumer to the nearest turbo-lift. By the time they entered the turbo-lift the admiral's mood brightened.

“Main sickbay.” Franklin ordered and the turbo-lift began it's ascent.

Sorry for the delay. Blah blah blah RL issues pissing me off. Blah blah blah.

Here's the second half of the second chapter.I'm pretty sure I'm missing something here but meh. I hope you enjoy it. Please don't be afraid to ask me anything about this fic, whether it is a compliment or constructive criticism.
After two minutes the turbolift door slid open letting the two officers out into the Sickbay's lobby. As they approached the reception desk, the nurse behind it smiled at them and asked, “Am I to assume that the two of you are here to see the captain?”

Both men nodded.

“She's in a private room at the opposite end of the sickbay. Just follow the tiny blue footprints. Just to let you know, the security chief is in the room questioning Captain Dewey. Have a nice day, sirs.”

On cue, the tiny footprints lit up, directing the senior officers to the captain's room before disappearing. Without needing to press the door chime, the door slid open and the security chief was about to step through but stopped when she saw the admiral and the commander.

“Oh I'm sorry. I didn't see the both of you.” Lieutenant Yocoisap gasped. She adjusted the helmet under her arm and gave them a stiff salute.

The admiral raised a hand and said, “At ease lieutenant.” The lieutenant did just so. “I take it that you are done questioning the captain?”

The security chief stepped through the doorway and waited for the door to slide shut. “Yes sir. It did not take long. The captain was in her quarters at the time if the explosion and was knocked unconscious. Nor does she recall anything unusual in her office.

Fortunately, she only suffered a mild concussion along with some cuts and bruises. Doctor Templeton has done a great job fixing her up. She is keeping the captain here for observation until tonight. If all goes well, she will be discharged by then.”

Commander Holt shook his head. “Did you examine the crime scene. lieutenant?”

“Yes, commander. I did and I have also checked out her quarters. Her quarters as far as I can tell came out clean save for the blast damage. With the captain's permission, I've had her belongings bagged and tagged for more in depth examination.

As for her office, there wasn't much I could do except that the blast was centered near the viewport just behind her desk."

With her free hand, the security chief pulled out a small PADD that was attached to her belt and scanned her report. Finding what she was looking for, Fawichla continued, "The nature of the explosion as far as I could tell based on my tricorder, is that it was an anti-matter type weapon. I will know definitely once I examine the debris that was beamed into the cargo bay. Judging by the damage done, I'd say maybe one hundredth of an ounce of anti-matter at the most so the bomb most likely would have been small and easily disguised as just about anything. Again, I'll know for sure once I examine the evidence in the cargo bay.”

“What about Lieutenant Pohl? Were you able to locate him or what is left of him?” The commander cut-in.

Shifting the helmet from under one arm to the other and placing her PADD back on her belt, Fawichla Yocoisap replied, “I was not able to locate him and chances are that he was destroyed in the explosion. If there is anything left of him, they'd be in the cargo bay. My guess sirs, is that he was too close to the blast and was destroyed. Sensor and surveillance logs had him placed in her office at the time of the explosion and since we did not find the lieutenant floating in space, we can assume that he has either been vaporized or obliterated. Add to the fact that my tricorder picked up trace elements of materials that is used in the construction of a Soong type android.

Right now this is a murder investigation. The perpetrator will be looking at murder one and attempted murder one. I am confident that we will catch whoever is responsible. With due respect, sirs, unless either of you have any further questions, I'll be heading down to the cargo bay down in Engineering and sift through the evidence.”

This time the admiral spoke, “Do you have any ideas who could have done this?”

“There are many people and organizations capable of doing something like this. In fact, too many to mention. But I need to cover all bases before I even think about who did this.”

“Thank you, lieutenant. You may take your leave.”

Fawichla nodded to her superiors and left.

The men entered the captain's room and stood at opposite ends of her bed.

Lenora wince and resisted the urge to curse as she sat up to meet them.

“Take it easy, captain.” The admiral said worriedly. “You do not need to sit up on our account.”

“I know, sir, but I did it anyway.” Lenora answered with a half smile. “I'm sorry that I was unable to greet you in person.”

“No, no, that is okay. Being banged around is a good enough excuse to not show up. Besides, Commander Holt was good enough to show me around the starbase, especially around the civilian section. I might say that I am truly impressed but concerned at the same time.”

Franklin raised an eyebrow at the last sentence. “Concerned, sir?”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, “Don't worry about it. I'll address them and the reason for me being here at tomorrow's meeting. But let us get back to the matter at hand.”

Facing the captain, the admiral warmly smiled and said, “How are you feeling? Your chief of security said that you had a concussion.”

"That is correct, sir. A concussion, hairline skull fracture and cuts and bruises to my face from smashing it against the bathroom mirror and anything that was in its way as I fell. Fortunately the good doctor fixed me up so the only reminder I have is this throbbing headache and an all around soreness."

"Do you recall anything in regards to the incident? Anything unusual in you office before the explosion?" The commander asked.

The captain scrunched her face as she tried to recollect but got nothing, "Nope, nothing. As I mentioned to Lieutenant Yocoisap was that the weekend was all a blur before being woken up this morning by Lieutenant Pohl to remind me of the admiral's impending arrival and afterward I went to my quarters to take a shower. When I got out, that is where everything went black and I woke up here in Sickbay. I'm sorry, I wish I could have been more helpful."

"No need to apologize, sir. It was out of your hands." Franklin said as he tried to reassure his captain.

The admiral was rubbing his chin and appeared lost in thought but he snapped back into reality and replied, "I agree with Commander Holt. There is no need to apologize. I had hoped you would remember anything in regards to the explosion but that is okay.

Anyways, we must be going now, as there is a lot for me to do before tomorrow's meeting. So, please take care and while I know you plan to attend the meeting, really recommend to take some time off instead. I'll get you caught up once you are ready."

Lenora waved the admiral off, saying, "Thanks, sir, but not thanks. I'll be there. I cannot afford to take time off as it is, since I am far behind in my paperwork."

"If you say so, captain. I'll see you tomorrow then. Take care."

Lenora saluted the admiral and he in turn returned the salute. Before leaving, Commander Holt also saluted that captain and said, "Don't worry, captain, we'll catch whoever is responsible. Take things easy and I'll brief you tomorrow of the investigation."

Smiling weakly at the commander, Lenora nods and replies, "No problem and if you don't mind, could you arrange a temporary place to stay until my quarters and office are repaired?"

"I do not mind it at all, sir. I'll have it set up for you by tonight and I'll leave the room number with Doctor Templeton."

"Thank you, commander."

"And please get some rest."

Lenora gave him a cross-eyed look and gave him a lop-sided salute. "Aye, aye, sir!" Giggling, she added, "Now go!"

Both men did so and left.

As they walked back to the reception area, Admiral Laumer quietly asked the commander, "May I ask you a personal question in regards to the captain?"

Franklin frowned, worried yet curious as to what the admiral wanted. "You may, sir. What would you like to know?"

The admiral pulled Franklin aside before they reached the turbolift doors.

"I know this is a sensitive issue but I need a straight answer. Just how bad is her drinking problem?" The admiral saw the surprised look in the commander's face and said, "You'd be surprised what is written down in your personnel files. Unfortunately, all relevant data about the station and everyone in it is at least a year out of date. That aside, will her drinking problem be an issue?"

Carefully choosing how to reply, Commander Holt lowered his voice to match the admiral, "It is manageable and so far has not interfered with the station's operation. It isn't as bad as when she first arrived and the senior staff and I have discussed her drinking with her several times. We've had some success. So far, she keeps her drinking down to a bare minimum during the week but on the weekends, she'll be flat out drunk. To keep an eye on her, I petitioned Starfleet to transfer Lieutenant Jensen Pohl to be her personal assistant."

"What about the unofficial reports stating that is resorting to drug use and is committing conducts unbecoming of an officer? Any truth to that?"

"Well sir, she's not a drug addict. She does take detoxapine to rid her of any hangovers and that happens only once a week and the dosage is set by Doctor Templeton. but that is it.

As for the second part of your question, it depends on what you consider unbecoming. While on duty, Captain Dewey is more or less by the book but isn't afraid to take matters into her own hand if she deems it necessary. In her off time, she drinks and gambles in public. While she drinks to excess on the weekends, she never gambles more than she can afford to lose and never goes into debt. She's flirtatious and has had many partners regardless of where they were from. Her choice of entertainment is certainly unusual, it is there, where you'll find her conduct to be questionable.

For example, the captain invited me to a Klingon equivalent of a death metal concert. When we got there, there were hundreds of Klingons, all wearing so much spikes, chains, piercings and blood make-up. The both of us stuck out like a couple of sore thumbs." Franklin chuckled and shook his head. "But you know what? They greeted and welcomed her as one of their own. At the request of the lead singer of the Sto'Vo'Kor Travelers, she got up on stage and sang, if you could call it singing, one of their songs. When she sang, it was like a bunch of piranhas on a feeding frenzy. Everyone was jumping, roaring, slamming into each other and with all those spikes they wore, plenty of blood flowed. Inevitably, a huge brawl broke out in which I ended up having to defend myself. I was told later in sickbay that I was welcomed to come back whenever I wanted since I had made a very good impression on them, literally on at least a couple of Klingons.

The thing is admiral, Captain Lenora Dewey is not your typical Starfleet captain, nor would many consider her to be Starfleet material, but let me tell you this, the captain does what she does to keep the peace on this station and tries her best to put everyone at ease, especially with the Klingons. I know we are in a cold war with the Klingon Empire but over here, in this starbase, we have very little trouble with them because of Captain Dewey. Yes, her conduct on several occasions can be strictly defined as unbecoming but we are fine with that. The senior staff and I also know of her ulterior motive. She is trying to forget her past but to be brutally honest with you, sir, some of her actions are getting to be extreme, so much so that we're afraid that one day she'll be killed. The worst part is that there is nothing we can do about it. She outranks us and thanks to Starfleet's poor choice of words in regards to her sentence, we cannot remove her of her command.

Now this is just my opinion, but I feel it is shared by many but I think Starfleet has done this on purpose to further punish her. Publicly, they need her because of the ongoing manpower shortage but privately, I believe they want her dead."

Commander Holt paused for a moment and suddenly an idea came through his mind. "There may be a way we can help her sir. Although you cannot take command of Venture, you are the highest ranking officer here. Maybe you could order her to attend some counseling sessions?"

"That is a possibility, commander." Admiral Laumer replied with uncertainty. He scratched behind his right ear and tried to figure out what to say to Franklin but then said, "I'll see what I can do but there is no reassurances that I'll help out. I'm here for a reason and babysitting isn't it. I just wanted to see if your captain is going to be a liability, but I see that you and the staff are making sure that she isn't. I do not need any potential security risks and tomorrow's briefing will emphasize the necessity for the utmost secrecy and heightened security. But enough said, I'm tired and I have a lot of work to do, so I'd like to head to my quarters right now. Can you show me the way, commander?"

Smiling at Franklin, the admiral pointed towards the turbolift doors with an open hand.

"Yes sir. It'll be my pleasure to show you to your quarters." Commander Holt replied with a smile of his own, but beneath the smile, he was worried. Will he really help her? I hope so, but I guess it'll be up to him to make the first step.


[Deep within the bowels of the starbase's myriad of maintenance tunnels]

"I'm here like you asked, so what --"The skittish man, wearing a Starlfeet maintenance department uniform, suddenly stopped talking when the other person raised his finger to his mouth, indicating him to be silent.

The second man stood almost six feet tall, wearing a long faded black robe and with a hood draped over his head, obscuring his face. From underneath his robe, the mysterious figure took out a small device and placed it against the tunnel wall before activating it.

"We do not want to have our presence known or heard. These walls have eyes and ears." The robed figure said in a harsh tone.

He pointed to the maintenance crewman and scowled, "You failed to do your job, Crem. You were supposed to kill the captain!"

Raising his hand in self-defense, Crem stammered, "N-no, that wasn't wh-what you paid m-me to do. You t-told me to place the p-package in the ca-captain's of-office and I did th-that. It is n-not my fault that i-it didn't go as pl-planned. Now if yo-you don't mi-mind, we're d-done here."

Crem was about to turn and leave when he was slammed up against the tunnel wall, with his feet dangling off the floor.

"Listen to me, you pathetic little worm." The robed man roared at Crem, slamming him against the wall with every word he uttered before calming down but still holding Crem aloft, speaking in his usual harsh ice cold tone. "Your job is not done until I say it is done, maggot. She has given me another job to pass along to you. The pay will be the same but the objective is different. Since it will be impossible right now to kill the captain, my queen wants you to take this chip." He pulled out with one hand a small chip from underneath his robe and showed it to him with open hand.

"When I give you the signal, you are to go to the nearest computer core and download the contents of this chip. I don't care how, but do it. Failure is irrelevant. Victory is the only option. Now take it!"

The nerve wracked maintenance crewman quickly took the chip off the mysterious man's cybernetic hand and fumbled it into his pocket.

The stranger pulled the frightened Crem away from the wall and lowered him until Crem was facing him, but the stranger did not release his grip on him. Instead, he inched his face closer to the crewman and despite the dim lit surroundings and the hood obscuring much of the stranger's face, Crem could see a laser like beam of light aimed at him from where the stranger's right eye should have been. The beam moved and settled between Crem's eyes.

"Don't fail me, Crem." The mysterious stranger said coldly. "Do so and it will be the last one. I can assure you."

Crem was unceremoniously dropped to the floor and he slowly picked himself up. As he straightened himself, the mystery man removed the device from the wall and returned it deep within the recesses of his robe. He then walked down the darkened tunnel.

Squinting, Crem tried to make out where the stranger went off to, when a voice far behind him called out to Crem, startling him and almost made him void his bladder.

"Crem! What the hell are you squinting at?"

Shaken, Crem spun around and saw his partner. Jonas, walking towards him.

"Are you pretending to have supervision, Crem?" Jonas joked as he pushed his cleaning anti-grav cart.

"No, I was-" Crem stopped when he noticed that the tunnel wasn't dim lit at all. It was in fact, well lit. He weakly pointed to where he was staring but waved it off.

"Yeah, you got me Jonas. I was pretending to be Quantum Man." He jokingly replied.

"Well, you can do that on your own time. We've been paged to purge the waste terminals on Deck three ninety, suite eight four seven."

Crem slumped against the wall, groaning. "Again? This is the third time in a week that we've been called there. What does Fubar put in his chili?"

Pulling him up, Jonas replied, "Don't know. Don't care. The el-tee wants us there on the double."

"I guess so." Crem replied dejectedly. "I hope it isn't as bad as last time."

"Don't mention it. The sooner we get this done, the better. Let's go."

Looking back one last time, Crem wondered if he had imagined his encounter with the stranger until he felt the tiny bulge in his pocket.

Damn!