Space Empires IV Game RP

[brianeyci]

"Approach at one quarter impulse.", said Bartok. They were out of fuel, and they needed to land or be stranded as space junk for the rest of eternity. The Ullians though had been less than cooperative. Bartok had no choice. He was an honest businessman, but the survival of his crew was more important than the customer-merchant relationship, especially since the Ullians didn't seem interested in buying anything at all and were intent in blowing him out of the sky.

"The Ullians are hailing. Text only. They demand that we withdraw immediately or suffer the consequences."

Bartok sneered. What could have turned the Ullians so aggressive? His database told him that they were a peaceful species. The Ferengi Alliance had no wars with the Ullians, no trade disputes. On the contrary, the Ullians were regular customers, and back in the Alpha Quadrant trade between the Ullians and Ferenginar exceeded ten billion bars of latinum a standard month.

"Tell them we have no choice and we've run out of fuel."

"Fighters!", shouted Slog.

"Raise shields. Arm weapons.", said Bartok. He paused. "Bartok to Engineering. Is the device ready?"

"Ready Daimon.", said Narg. "Tell me when."

"Fighers closing at attack speed. They will be in weapons range in thirty seconds."

"Engineering, engage the device in 25 seconds."

The fighters drew closer, and closer. Bartok pressed a button, zooming into the fighters. They were of an unusual design. From the looks of them, they were heavy fighters with shield generators and micro-torpedo launchers. The ship wouldn't survive long, and after a few attack runs the ship would have been space debris. But, they wouldn't make an attack run. At least, not on this ship.

"They're shooting, they're shooting", yelled Slarg. Bartok's usual irritation at Slarg's idiodic comments was cut short by the engagement of the holographic cloaking system. In front of them, the screen was filled with a hologram. At the same time, the ship shimmered out of existence, and ducked underneath the hologram. The fighters approached and loosed their volley of torpedoes. The hologram imitated a warp core breach, exploding. A real cloaking device of course would have negated the need for a one-shot wonder like this, but those were expensive and contraband in the Alpha Quadrant.

"Narg to bridge. Two minutes of cloak left."

"Full impulse to the planet, now!"

The ship hurled forward, using its last energy reserves. "Find a good place to land.", said Bartok. The helmsman, who Bartok still didn't know the name of, understood before the words had left Bartok's mouth. The ship circled the planet and dropped itself in a fury. Fire engulfed the viewscreen, the clouds giving way to an infinite mass. The ground flew towards the ship and a loud thump was the only indication of landing. The Ferengi had long since mastered the art of emergency landings, at least ten times more rapid than standard landings. As soon as the ship landed, the cloaking device disengaged.

"Narg to bridge. That's it. No power."

The lights flickered, and Bartok swore.

Brian

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

The response from the Dominion colony ship was a surprise. It said that their planets had been demolished and they were refugees, seeking to colonize a new world and rebuild from the ashes. Long range scanners had picked up their planets, but were not sensitive enough to confirm or deny their claims. Perhaps they had run afoul of a native race that had not had its technology base scrapped. Maybe this was a new twist by Q. Or maybe they were just lying. Kirk looked to his two trustworthy advisors.

Spock: This could be a ploy. We should not allow these people to colonize a Federation planet without establishing the veracity of their claims, first.

McCoy: Jim, who knows what these people have gone through already? How bad conditions are on that ship. Just because we're pawns in some sick game doesn't mean we should just sacrifice our humanity and be like this green blooded automaton!

Kirk thought for a moment.

Kirk: Bones is right. We can't abandon our principles, our compassion. We'll allow them to settle a planet in this system...

Spock: ...sir with all due respect I think that would be most unwise...

Kirk: ...but we'll send a ship to the other side of the wormhole to see if they are telling the truth, and in the mean time we will tell them not to come within a million kilometers of our colonies or the wormhole to our home systems. We will enforce this with fighter patrols. Ensign, prepare to take a message.

[Trogdor]

"Interesting," Primus said. "You say these people have telepathic powers?"

Two of his advisors sat before him. Primus had more important things to do than remember their respective names, so he thought of them as Hawk and Dove, due to the differing opinions they always held on foreign policy.

"Yes, Praetor," Hawk, a hulking Romulan with a few gray strands in his otherwise black hair answered. "We are sure. The Talosians tried to use their powers to induce our ship in their solar system to land on their home world. If not for the crew's superior Romulan brains, we probably would've lost the ship all together! Praetor, we cannot let such an action go unpunished!"

"We do not have the resources for such an attack!" Dove cried, throwing up his hands. A thin, wirey Romulan, Dove seemed always on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "The colonization programs are putting enough of a strain on our economy as is!"

"Did we work so hard to increase our industrial capacity for nothing then?" Hawk demanded. "Praetor, don't listen to him. Say the word, and I will have a battle fleet ready for you in no time! I can have 600 legions ready for you in mere months!"

"But the Talosians are very close to where our cartographers believe Kirk's Federation to be," Dove pointed out. "Kirk would not like us conquering a neutral race. Could we sustain a conflict with the Federation?"

"If we had to!" Hawk snapped, even though the question was directed to Primus. "But I doubt we will! We may be able to conquer the Talosians before Kirk is even aware of them!"

Primus held a hand up for silence, and the duo immeditaly fell silent. "Our cartographers also believe that Kirk's Federation is near to the Borg and the Dominion. I doubt he will be able to do anything about the Talosians with such neighboors. We will make the Talosians rue the day they ever directed their powers at Romulans."

"Thank you, Praetor!" Hawk exclaimed.

"However," Primus said, "rememeber that time is of the essence here as much as it has become everywhere. The colonization programs must not be delayed for long, and must continue wherever they can, is that understood?"

"Yes, Praetor."

[Nephtys]

There's been some level of reorganization in the collective for the past year, slowing their return to military power drastically. With their ties cut to the Alpha Quadrant collective, Five of Eight knew that there would have to be many changes.

First amongst several, the now independant drone who styled himself as Osiris, the egyptian judge of the living and dead, watched his displays aboard his newly reactivated sphere. The familiar hologram displayed a planet, with a small military outpost and several patrolling frigates flashed into view.

"Two of Four, make course for the planet. Prepare to open a channel to them." he observes the virtual representations of the purple warships. "Dominion.." he sneers, chiseled human features still visible on the drone despite extensive augmentation. He thrusts his hand aside, a laser welder sparking. A viewscreen opens from the smaller scoutship escorting the sphere.

A former romulan appears, one of the handful picked by their queen to recieve semi-independant thought. "I am at your service, my lord." he says with a bored yawn. This one had chosen Longinus as his moniker, and turned back to view his own displays. "A-ah. I've detected the debris of one of our scout ships. These Species 6216 types..." he shakes his head. "I believe it's time for you to make your speach. You know how apperances are..." he slyly replies back to Osiris.

The commanding drone grimmaced, and then put on the most stoic Dabbo-Face he could muster, turning to look into a holocam. "WE ARE THE BORG. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE." he states mechanically, then switches off the camera with a thought.

"We cannot allow them to establish an outpost here. It certainly is a precursor to attack. Prepare your ship and command your drones to attack." he turns to one of the still billions of borg automaton tending to him. A forceful mental command causes it to turn, and prepare the ship for action.

Carving through space, the sphere and coffin-like scout break formation, to descend on the planet and the invaders.

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Kirk listened patiently to Spock's summary of the situation with the "Dominion" colonists.

Spock: As you well know, with the current technology level, the combat shuttle or fighter is the most logical vessel to use. If I were going to attack us, I would secretly build large quantities of fighters, and re-inforce them by bringing in a carrier vessel disguised as a transport. The two pronged attack would overwhelm our defenses. To prevent this, we must blockade the wormhole until we can send a ship through to see if this is truly their only colony.

Kirk: We can pass it off as an attempt to protect them against pursuing Borg.

Spock: That would be logical, Admiral.

Kirk: Ensign, put me through to the Dominion, and tell governor Carver to prep his squadrons for launch.

[brianeyci]

"How many games have been distributed?", said Zargat. He was seated on his throne in the Divine Treasury replica, built to exacting specifications within a micrometer to the one on Ferenginar. Baxter looked at his padd. "Several hundred million mi'lord." Zargat sneered. There were billions on this planet alone, and billions more on each of the satellite planet. As of now trade had resumed. The heads of all companies, major CEO's, lawyers, influential bankers, politicians, nearly all of them, had been "persuaded" to play the game at least once, and were under his complete control. It was just the peons now, and it was vital that all things seemed as normal. Open revolts would do nobody any good, and Zargat had made no sweeping changes since declaring emergency powers over his star system... yet.

"Also... the fleet has gathered itself at the wormhole to the Tarsas system.", said Baxter. Zargat pondered. The "fleet" was two light cruisers, a boarding pod, and a troop dropship. Not much of a fleet yet, but this was as much as they could muster.

A beeping noise came from Zargat's chair, and he punched a button. A holographic Ullian appeared. "Ferengi, we warned you to keep your ships away from our planet. You ignored us, and now there can be no recourse but war!" The holo-Ullian turned around and angrily slammed something, disappearing.

"Baxter you fool, I told you to keep the ships away and keep negotiating!", screamed Zargat. Zargat paused. "My lord, all ships accounted for. None have approached the Ullian homeplanet.", squeamed Baxter. Zargat knew Baxter to be telling the truth... nobody could lie, after being brainwashed by the game. "So... either the Ullians are delaying... or... there is another Ferengi ship.", mused Zargat Another Ferengi. Only another Ferengi could pose a threat to his destiny, his purpose in this galaxy. He was meant to rule, and he would win this Q's "game". "Find out as much as you can through civilian channels.", said Zargat. Baxter left Zargat, and dancing girls returned to their idyillic charade. Alice was not among them. She wouldn't be returning for awhile. "I hope that fool can handle a simple task like this.", muttered Zargat. "Prepare the command shuttle.", said Zargat to an unnamed lowly.

Brian

[Trogdor]

Commander Tkan, soon to be planetary governor of a new Romulan colony, yawned as he sat on his command chair. The flights of colony ships were notoriously boring.

No sooner had he thought that than did something start beeping.

"Commander," the sensor operator suddenly said. "We're detecting several ships in this system!"

"What?" Tkan demanded. "Can you identify them?"

"Yes, Commander. Federation."

"What? But the humans are supposed to be in the other direction!" Tkan snapped. "Scan again."

The sensor operator did as he was told. "Same result, commander," he said. "Wasn't there supposed to be two Federations in this galaxy?"

"Get me Star Navy Command," Tkan ordered.

-----

Primus wasn't the least bit surprised when this new revelation sparked another furious debate between Hawk and Dove.

"We can send our new fleet against the humans!" Hawk said. "Just say the word, Praetor, and I will bring their leader's head to you on a platter!"

Dove looked disgusted. "You sound like a Klingon."

Primus chortled softly, the sound of which was covered up by Hawk's exclaimation of rage. "How dare you?!"

"Don't hurt him," Primus ordered and Hawk stopped moving to strangle Dove.

"Praetor," Dove said. "To make war on some minor power is one thing, but to restart the Expansion Wars is quite another! They were a disaster the first time, before the powers of the Federation were united!"

"Don't listen to this coward, Praetor!" Hawk shouted. "We can bring our old foes to their knees and double our wealth and power!"

"Our fleet will be stopped at their core worlds if it can even make it that far," Dove insisted. "Federation colonies are not socialist like Earth and the rest of the UFP's core. They will be able to raise a fleet in time to stop us."

Primus looked to Hawk and silently glared at the big Romulan until he grew visibly nervous. "Do not raise your voice to me again," he said at last. "I don't care how many campaigns and cconflicts you're a veteran of. If you can't remember that I am Praetor, then I have no use for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Praetor," Hawk said stoically.

Primus sighed. "I will extend the olive branch to the Federation. Begin making preparations to fortify the warp hole to their territory, though. And let's hope for their sake that they agree to have peaceful relations with us."

[Trogdor]

"Humans to the left of us, humans to the right of us," Hawk ranted. "Please, Praetor, allow me to unleash our navy upon one of them! The old Federation is doubtlessly busy with the Dominion and the Borg! We can rush in and conquer them before they can react!"

Needless to say, Romulan colony ships had recently made contact with Kirk's Federation.

Dove quirked an eyebrow. "Do I really even need to state all the reasons that that's a stupid idea?" Without waiting for an answer, though, he proceeded to do so. "Do you honestly think that if we make war on one Federation, the other will sit idly by? And what if we do conquer Kirk's Federation? The Dominion and the Borg--"

Hawk cut Dove off. "If you can defeat Kirk, you will be a legend!" he exclaimed. "No one will question your authority for as long as you live! To make Kirk bow to you would make you the greatest leader our people have ever had!"

"To try would mean to see the Romulan eagle replaced by the Federation's starfield flying over our worlds!" Dove said. "We don't have the resources to fight two wars!"

Primus silenced them with a gesture. "Gentlemen," he said, thinking that he'd really have to learn their names eventually. "I recently recieved word from the present Federation. Our presense in the Ramatis system has unnerved them, but they are willing to make peace. The past Federation will likely be less trusting, but they'll have little choice with neighboors like the Borg and the Dominion. Our three empires could be a formidable power bloc, not unlike the one that the UFP and the Klingons had to keep us down. But we are willing to do something that the humans likely will not be: we are willing to expand by conquest. And that is why we will become the leaders in this triumvirate."

[Dalton]

Chancellor Martok trod the grass beneath his feet. This new world was huge, lush with vegetation and rich in mineral resources; a good find for his new Empire. Already the planet was being populated with hardy Klingon civilians transported from a nearby colony.

"The bounty of Kahless," Martok said, mostly to himself but just loud enough for a trailing aide to hear.

"Chancellor?"

"This world," Martok said, turning around. "It is a bounty to us, from the spirit of great Kahless, so that his people may rise again." The aide nodded and held out a padd.

"Our monthly report, Chancellor," he said. Despair had drained slowly from the population in the past months and it showed. Martok scanned it, satisfied with what he saw. In the past few months, new ships had been built and sent to explore nearby systems, discovering many new worlds ripe for colonization. Martok frowned as something caught his eye.

"What does this refer to?" he asked, pointing at an entry. The aide craned to see what Martok was pointing to.

"Ah, that is a barren, inhospitable world that we have just colonized," he said. "Carbon dioxide atmosphere, medium size, and the moon of a Gas Giant. It's in the Ophiucus system."

"Why would you dispatch a colony ship to a place like that?" Martok asked, somewhat incredulous. "Seems like a waste of resources to me."

The aide grinned, baring his teeth. "Our researchers unearthed a device from the ruins, which they were able to reverse-engineer into a mighty weapon," he said. "It will burn out the engines of any attacker who dares come near."

Martok grinned victoriously. "Qapla'!" he said. "A surprise for our foes." His grin turned into something vicious. "Now find some suitable worlds to plant the Klingon banner on, so we can build these weapons," he said, slapping the padd ungently into the aide's chest. The aide saluted smartly, about-faced and trotted away, leaving Martok alone with his thoughts.

Expansion was going well. New mining facilities were established, crops were plentiful and new reactors were producing more and more radioactives. But a deep sense of foreboding still weighed heavily on Martok's chest. As much as his new Empire had advanced, he still felt that he was far, far behind the other factions in this galaxy, and that worried him.

The comm receiver on his belt buzzed, and he lifted it to his lips. "What is it?" he asked gruffly, his train of thought suddenly derailed. "Speak!"

"Sir! We have made contact with the Tholians!"

[Alan Bolte]

Predsetadel Quarzon reflected that he had not made an entry in his log for quite some time. Nothing exciting had happened in the intervening period, yet somehow the sheer volume of new developments seemed worthy of note.

He opened his log with a thought, and began transmitting. Our borders have now been defined. Upon first glance it seems we are surrounded by barbarians on all sides, yet upon further examination we do have some measure of a buffer zone, as well as a chokepoint against invaders, something that would never have been possible were not all local interstellar travel limited to wormholes and subspace corridors. Indeed, we are safer now than we ever were in our home galaxy. To spinward lie two pre-interstellar civilizations that, though they pose no threat of expanding into our territory, have sufficient defenses to ward of all but the most determined invasion force. Our first wave of exploration ships was decimated by their destroyer squadrons, but they have made no attempt to communicate since, and I am confident that, should it be necessary, we could destroy them with ease. The coreward of the two are ice-dwellers, and as such it may be wise to find a way to obtain their colonization technology.

The rimward chokepoint is the furthest we have yet explored. I await reports of what lies on the other side. The buffer zone itself contains little but barren rock and ice. Even stars are lacking! How could any part of the galaxy could be so lacking in hydrogen?

The pace of research has been brisk. We now have the means to massively increase resource production without worrying about aggressive colonization. That's such an uncivilized way to go about these things, anyway. We are very nearly ready to begin construction of our defensive fleets. The Minos Korva Shipyards have been restablished and are expanding at pace. Our advancements in materials science continue to amaze me; the armor we have developed seems nearly invulnerable to smaller weapons. Anti-matter torpedo weaponry is ready to install, and I received a report just today that a breakthrough has been made in torpedo propulsion systems. The training of crews has finally begun.

He paused, and listened to the Assembly. From the sound of it, the report from their explorer ship must have come in. First contact with a third race? The Klingons!

[Uraniun235]

"Rather than assert lawful property rights over the Ramatis system, President Alshain cowers meekly before the frightful approach of a single Romulan colony ship." Wilhelm tossed the newspaper onto his desk, while looking at a very green Commodore, recently assigned command of the Starfleet. "Would you care to explain, now, your recommendation that we play the pussy-foot game that soured our relations with Earth?"
"Sir, our initial forays into developing technologies were... rather haphazard, and it wasn't until recently that we established a more focused research path which permitted the deployment of modernized space policy assertion-"
"You mean Starfleet R&D got caught with it's dick in it's hands when the Romulans came through the jump point."
"...yes, sir, that's approximately the gist of it."
"Don't try to bullshit me with bureaucratic jargon. This is not Paris and I am not some holo-addicted airhead that wants everyone to be super-happy all the time. I want to secure our people against any threats that come up - even if that means your precious starships get scratched up a bit. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir."
"We've been given an easy ride so far. It's time to earn our keep now. If I'm going to get into a dick-waving contest with the Romulans - which, if we're sharing a system, is bound to happen sooner or later - I need a dick to wave at them. Get me a real damn fleet yesterday."
"Yes sir."

Romulans. Guh. Why couldn't it have been the Klingons?

[brianeyci]

Zargat tapped a button on his console, bringing up the shielding around his room. None could disturb him. Thick five inch steel barriers inched down and clamped into grooves, sealing him into his room to be undisurbed with a thud. Zargat flipped open his console, and keyed in a one-hundred and fifty symbol code with letters and numbers from twenty different alpha quadrant races. The computer chimed, and brought up the filed he had been working on for several months.

The game was not enough. He had control of nearly a hundred, but if he was to become leader of a great empire, he would need control over the proletariat. He had read and read, learned and learned. Unlike most Ferengi, he had a sound formal education in linguistics, and a masters in psychology. This had gave him the edge, let him establish a small business empire back in the Alpha Quadrant. Now, in this new galaxy, there were none of the contacts, none of the people he could trust. He had always followed the human truism, "keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer". He wished Quark were here, but he was alone.

If the game was to give him total control, utter control over the minds of billions of individuals, it would need to be enhanced. He had given his ideas to the technicians, but the imbeciles didn't understand the grandeur of his plans. They made the game more potent, at the cost of the slave's thought processes. The more control he had, the dumber the slave. Back in the Alpha Quadrant he had hired the greatest scientists who could be lured by a latinum treasure, not too difficult from a Federation which believed in denying its citizens luxury. Each scientist, each recommendation had come to only one conclusion. There was only one race in the galaxy, one civilization with enough technological prowress and experience to even approach the unity Zargat dreamt of.

The Borg.

Zargat punched another button. The shields around his room tuned itself to the frequency of the subspace transmitter embedded in his desk, allowing for long range communication. He punched in another code, and pressed a button, then put on a visor. He was in a dark tomb, the colour green dominant refracting through smoke from exposed machinery. Short screams could be heard in the distance. Mostly though, it was silent. Zargat took off the visor. Good. She had been assimilated. Zargat brought up Alice's transponder processor. It had been overlooked, just like Zargat's research had shown. Zargat accessed the transponder's neural functions. The entire collective would hear this message.

Code: Select all

Greetings.  I mean you no harm.  No doubt you've been dumped into this galaxy against your will.  You know from experience that Ferengi can be formidable foes.  'Species' 180, and you have yet to conquer us, and you never will.  Resistance is not futile, as we have shown you time and time again.

Borg Queen, if you are listening, I propose that we commence a trade and research alliance effective immediately.  No doubt you will try to assimilate us at your earliest convenience, but you have something I need, and I have something you need.  We can begin trade through automated shuttles.  There is no need to interact more than this.  For now.  In return for Ferengi supplies, I require certain... unique specialists from the collective.  You see... I am trying, to create a collective of my own.

High Daimon Zargat

Zargat clicked off his monitor and pursed his lips. This was a gamble. He was hoping that the Q being had taken the rogue elements of the collective, or perhaps that there was a sympathetic queen in charge of this Borg. If it was a traditional, expansionist queen who had no thoughts whatsoever but assimilate assimilate assimilate, there would be war. But if the Queen was recently assimilated... it was not unheard of for Queens to have their own personal agendas. Greed, lust, ego, pride, had all been seen from the Borg at one point or another in Ferengi history, and manipulating the Great River was how Ferenginar had kept the Borg from going on a wholesale extermination program.

Zargat keyed in a sequence, and the computer screen went blank, the room's shields deactivating (although the the transporter scrambler always remained active), the chamber coming out of lockdown. As soon as the metal barrier gave way enough for the door to swing open, it did, and a worried Baxter ran his way to the front.

"What is it?"

"My lord, our scientists have made a most troubling discovery."

Zargat snatched the padd out of Baxter's hand, skimming the dozen or so pages in a half a minute. "Interesting.", said Zargat. This opened up new possibilities. "Prepare the shuttle for landing. We'll visit the research labs."

Brian

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

A colony ship came through the warp point into the recently colonized Kleone system. It was a damn good thing that colony ship hadn't shown up 2 weeks earlier, or else the Federation would have no colonies there already, and no claim to the fertile system. The results of the scans came in. Romulans. Kirk gave McCoy and Spock worried looks.

"Damn! Why did it have to be Romulans? We don't even have a Neutral Zone between us and them."

"Captain, observe the design of the Romulan insignia and the serial number on the side of the ship," Spock said.

"Well, that's all wrong," Bones said, looking over Kirk's shoulder, "they've never used an arrangement like that."

"Gentlemen, it is logical that the participants in this game have been plucked not only from different points of space, but different points of time as well. We could be dealing with a Romulan empire from our future."

"But then, how will we know to behave? For all we know, there could be peace and tranquility between them and the Federation from their time," said Bones, taken aback by the news.

"I see this is an opportunity," Kirk said optimistically, "Ensign, warn the colony ship away and have it relay a message. No matter what their future is like, they will still remember our tense present and the Terran-Romulan war. I'm going to tell them that we plan to co-exist peacefully with no Neutral Zone. This could go very well or very badly. Cross your fingers, gentlemen."

Bones crossed his fingers, Spock simply raised his brow.

[Alan Bolte]

Malurian System

The exploration ship coasted in space. It had the hull of a colony ship, but much greater range, and was more likely to survive combat. It lacked a significant colonizing population: that would have to be brought later, by a transport. Much closer to the system's star sat the first two habitable planets the ship had seen in the past year. The worlds were neither large nor idyllic, but they had breathable air, a commodity in short supply in this region of space.

Light-hours away, a Klingon Bird-of-Prey sat, watching.

"Commander Mazt, sitrep."

"Sir. The Klingon frigate has not made a move toward us, but given the transmission we just forwarded to the Assembly, there's no way of telling how much longer they'll remain there. We are approaching a dense asteroid belt."

"Scan the belt, and bring the results up on viewer."

"Sir."

"Hmm. Some of these sectors look dangerous. This one, however," the Captain paused to zoom the viewscreen onto a part of the belt almost directly between their ship and their destination, "this area looks promising. The composition of these asteroids, and their distribution, leads me to believe that their targetting sensors will be all but useless here. Lieutenant Rotta, what do you think?"

"Excellent Captain. We can't run, and we can't hide. but we might survive there, for a time."

"Helm, alter course. Maintain speed."

"Yessir. Coming two degrees to starboard."

The captain looked ahead to the orange world. It would be good to see solid ground again. If they could make it that far.

[Nephtys]

Five of Eight, awoke from her regeneration in her private suite, gasping for air as she stumbles from her alcove, listening to the alien voice in her mind. It was clear and precise, not the thoughts of a mere drone. It was the loudest push into her thoughts in years.

She turns suddenly to transmit a command, a pair of drones walk in with mechanical stoicism, flanking a more relaxed individual. Five turns and grows annoyed. "Shodan, what was that?" she asks the independant drone, who looks somewhat meek and apprehensive, traits usually not associated with borg, but she was a young drone picked out for her mental prowess and adaptability to be the queen's adjutant, not for any stoic character or guile.

"One of our drones broadcast a signal from an unknown source, My Queen. But it seems to be from the Ferengi, who are presumably trapped in this sector of space with us. How they managed to..."

She was cut off as Five snaps. "..how they managed is irrelevant! Bring me this drone, and isolate it's connection." she turns away. "This Ferengi does not seem typical of their kind. I believe we'll have much to speak about." she waits impatiently.

In a few moments, a familiar green ripple appears and a female drone is transported behind the queen, standing with straight posture, silently awaiting her commands. It was Zargat's 'alice'. "State your designation." Five smirks, turning to face the drone that had broadcast the message.

[brianeyci]

Of course, Alice told the Queen everything. Willingly. About how Zargat had found her wasting away on a Federation backwater and rescued her from the molestations of a perverted Commodore. About Zargat's rise to power in Ferenginar through consolidating several unscrupulous loans agencies and charging exhorbant interest. About the money laundering, the prostitution, the drugs, and how she and Zargat had forged an empire out of ruins to become one of the Alpha Quadrant's most wealthy businessmen. She told him about how Zargat had less and less time for her, and was more and more obsessed over control. How she longed to have it like before, before when he had passionately made love to her and whispered in her ear of greater things. How the more he brooded over control, the more withdrawn he grew, until he barely listend to her at all and began treating her like one of his minions. How she found through her contacts in the Federation a confiscated technology which allowed the manipulation of other minds, and how she thought this would please her love. But he never changed. And, Alice told of how he betrayed her, and used the game on her. And... she told the Queen what she wanted in a single spat of pure evil utterance.

Vengeance.

Brian

[Trogdor]

Primus didn't think he could ever recall a time when his two advisors were in such a good mood at the same time.

"It looks like we have our triumvirate, Praetor," Dove said gleefully, showing him copies of the new treaties of trade and research with the two Federations. "The humans were glad to avoid conflict."

"Of course," Primus said, feeling quite pleased with himself. "That is their nature."

"Kirk is wary of us, though," Hawk grumbled, but with much less fire than usual. "He specifically said that we were not to send military ships through his territory, nor found colonies in his space. Praetor, one of our ships has already founded a colony in Federation space."

"Remove it," Primus said. "It will help convince Kirk that we're not waiting to backstab him. A triumvirate marred by distrust and hostility can quickly turn into a one man show. There's still plenty of space coreward to expand to."

"There is one matter of conern, though," Dove spoke up.

"What?" Primus asked.

"Kirk has told us that he has encountered the Dominion," Dove said. "Apparently, the Dominion told the humans that the Borg have all but annihilated them, and that their single colony in Federation space is all that's left of them."

"It's probably Dominion trickery, but it's also not impossible," Primus mused, then shrugged. "It's Kirk's problem. I've read my history. Kirk won't invite Romulan warships into his space unless he has no other choice." He turned to Hawk. "What of the fleet?"

"Constructed," Hawk replied, grinning wickedly. "As soon as we can get it together and the troops loaded, we can be en route to Talosian space. We are also preparing a cloaked scout ship to go ahead and make sure they don't have any unpleasant surprises waiting."

"Excellent," Primus said. "We have seen our first alliances. Hopefully our first conquest goes as smoothly."

[brianeyci]

"Sir, we are approaching Tarsas I."

Baxter licked his lips. He had been waiting for killing... to kill... to kill Zargat... no, to kill the Ullians, that was right, to kill the Ullians. "Give them one last chance to surrender.", barked Baxter. Even if they didn't, he wanted to savour the victory.

"Sir... Tarsas's weapons platforms are locking onto us..." Baxter sneered. They hadn't a chance in hell, but might as well be careful. "Raise shields. Signal to come alongside us." Tarsas punched up his console and brought up the ship's controls. A joystick flew up. This would be devestatingly easy. He would fly in the ship, strafe the colony, and be done with Zargat. Er, the Ullians. Yes, the Ullians.

"Enemy weapons platforms firing.", said the tactical officer. The ship rocked. "Shields... shields failing!", said the tactical officer in surprise. The helmsman turned to look at Baxter and asked something, but Baxter didn't hear. The helm was his now.

"Tarsas is launching fighter craft... fifty class one shuttles." Class one shuttles with a puny shuttle phaser. No match for their light cruisers. Baxter moved the joystick and the Latinum surged, paired by the Profit. He flipped a switch and the lights beside his triggers turned green. The shuttles approached and broke away, but the automated point defense disruptors shredded them in ten seconds. Baxter leaned forward in his chair. He could faintly hear some screaming, some explosions, but he had to kill Zargat. The screams grew louder, and he was alone. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he had to kill. Yes, Zargat! Baxter pressed the buttons loosing the napalm bombs. Yes, Zargat was dead, he was dead!

A beam fell on Baxter, crushing his spinal cord.

"High Daimon, message coming in from the attack fleet.", said a slight Ferengi who Zargat didn't know the name of. Zargat pressed the button on his console switching the view from the lackey on his screen to a rather nervous looking tougher Ferengi. The nervous Ferengi was on the bridge of a transport ship. "Report.", said Zargat.

"Sir... the Profit and Latinum have been destroyed."

Zargat cooly absorbed this information. "Were troops landed?"

"Yes, one hundred thousand Ferengi troops..."

"And?"

"The.. the Profit veered off course and was unable to destroy the defense satellites orbiting Tarsas. The Latinum was destroyed by planetary weapons fire before the troops were able to secure the weapons platforms..." The Ferengi's voice turned into a whisper. "The... the satellites the Profit were to destroy were left unharmed and... fired on the planet..."

Zargat took out a disruptor pistol from his belt and shot the computer display. It exploded in a rain of lightning, but Zargat had long replaced dangerous consoles with harmless ones, knowing this to be a frequent habit. Killed. One hundred thousand of his best men. Because the Ullians would rather fire and kill their own civilians than let their colony fall into his hands. These Ullians were worse than Klingons.

Another computer display beeped. Zargat nearly shot it too, but holstered his weapon and manipulated the display. "I hope for your sake you have good news."

"High Daimon, the temporal research lab has reported one hundred percent success. The engineers are waiting in the boardroom for approval of their new cruiser design." Zargat smiled. In the Alpha Quadrant, time travel was banned even by the Ferengi. Here, he could do what he wished, when he wanted. There were no rules. "Tell Raxis I will be there as soon as I can.", said Zargat. He needed a release, and motioned to the columns. A pair of scantily clad human females danced to him.

Brian

[Alan Bolte]

Weeks passed. The explorer circled the asteroid belt, avoiding dangerous areas, tending to the slow, dense parts that were easily navigable but partly concealing. Meanwhile, the Bird of Prey orbited the planet, which in turn orbited near the other breathable planet in the system. It wasn't exactly a standoff, but it was a waiting game. The Klingons waited impatiently for the go-ahead from their commdanders, and the Tholians sat helplessly as negotiations between the two powers continued. The transmissions suggested that the Klingons might be forgetting the time-delay. That, or their translators weren't working quite right. They wondered what the Klingon response to the offer of a Non-Intercourse treaty would be.

[Dalton]

"Status report."

"Chancellor, we have had some difficulty communicating with these Tholians. We are unsure why, but it does appear subspace communications are somewhat slower here. Their language is also causing the translators some minor difficulty."

Martok thumped his console. Just what he didn't need. "Have they said anything else?"

"They have offered what we think is a treaty of some sorts. Non-intercourse. Staying out of each other's way."

Martok relaxed, then considered. His empire was still struggling, far more than he would like to admit, and he needed time to build without facing the threat of aggressors. A non-intercourse treaty would buy some time to plan, to think, and to build.

"Accept the treaty. And work on those comm units, or I will have your heart for lunch."

"Yes, chancellor."

"Dismissed." The aide's face remained impassive as he turned to leave; Martok was impressed. Most underlings would make excuses to evacuate his presence when he was in such a foul mood, but not this one. Someone to keep a sharp eye on? Or was Martok losing his edge with age?

He put such thoughts aside, then checked to see how his slothful researchers were coming along.

[brianeyci]

"As you can see Daimon, our shipyards now construct at a far greater rate.", said Raxis. Zargat smiled. "Are you sure this technology is safe?"

"Absolutely. Parts from other dimensions, pre-assembled, are beamed into our shipyards saving thousands of work hours. Ships can be constructed quickly. The parts are inspected to see if they match specifications to the micrometer."

"Excellent.", said Zargat. "The temporal rifts you open... are they two-way?"

"No." Zargat smiled showing his sharp teeth. There was only one thing he liked better than ripping customers off -- ripping customers off and getting away with it. "Make sure our new Maurader class ships are ready for production.", said Zargat. At last they were getting potent weapons and ships. Without the humens or weakling Nagus around, Zargat could do whatever he wanted.

"As for the other projects... what is the progress on the priority research?"

"Going well. We should have a working prototype in less than half a year."

Zargat sat back in his seat. The loss to the Ullians was crippling, but the combat reports since then were positive. A frigate was enroute to intercept an enemy colony ship. It would be captured, and their gravitational dampening technology analyzed by Raxis and his huge department until they could construct huge colonies in the atmosphere of Gas Giants like the Ullians. And the special project... the special project should prove interesting for the trials ahead.

Brian

[Nephtys]

High Spire, Borgtown, Borg Planet.

"My Queen, news from the frontier." remarked the generally reserved Shodan as she entered from the back of the room. Named for the lowest rank of japanese martial experts, she had a similar role, as Five's adjutant. The newly awakened queen steps from her alcove, turning. "Oh, good. I assume Osiris's cube was lost?" she asks with a bored look, turning.

"Yes, My Queen. His expeditionary unit was destroyed by hidden surface batteries and a strong defense. Our attack pod units made quick work of the defenders however, and their planet is all but defenseless now." she replies with a nod, looking over her pale shoulder mechanically at one of the mindless drones guarding the doorway. "We're assimilating crew captured from their attack ships at the moment."

The queen turned a little, thinking back on this situation and the other. Standing idle and without instruction in one corner of her chambers was the 'Alice' that the Ferengi had apparently modified. Her thoughts were split on such. "Allow the Prime Combat Nexus of Fleet xF50A press on the attack. Leave me now." she dismisses her assistant, who turns with a mechanical nod out of the room.

She had to decide a name and role for herself now, and a dream of the Egyptian sorceress-goddes Nephtys. One who held great power but hid in the shadow, manipulating all from a hidden place. Queen of funerals and the soon to be dead. She mused on these thoughts for some time, before turning to face 'Alice', reactivating her and using her as a medium of communication.

"Species 180---Ferengi leader. I know not of what you think may be true, but I am no puppet queen." she says, pacing with her gloved hands curled into fists at her side. "I have no need of your supplies. I do find your claims strange. Why have you sent this... agent into my midst? Respond immediately." she barks, deactivating the drone again with a brush of her hand.

'Nephtys' walks back to her screen, looking out a virtual representation of an external view. She gazed down below to masses of thoughtless drones working their task, ants in her hive. Soon, the insolent Dominion would join them.

[Trogdor]

In all the fantasies of becoming praetor that Primus had ever had, he had never quite been able to imagine the gut churning anxiety that came with the post.

"Damnable lag," he muttered to himself as he read the already quite old reports from the field. "If only we still had a subspace comm. network."

"You worry too much, Praetor," Hawk said, but his voice was unusually soft. "Our legions will perform as impressively as our fleet did, I'm sure."

Indeed, the first attack fleet had performed brilliantly, decloaking and swooping down upon its target as neatly as was depicted in any textbook. The Talosian force had been twice the size of the Romulan fleet but had been obliterated, while the Imperial fleet had suffered only mild damage. Now Romulan legions were locked in a fierce struggle with the Talosian army.

"For once, I agree with the grisled veteran here," Dove said gently. "It is done. There is no point in worrying now."

"How can I not worry?" Primus asked. "Hundreds of legions are fighting as we speak because of my word. Who knows how many of our soldiers will get to come home? Who knows if any will? I'm praetor. All those lives are ultimatly my responsibility."

"As praetor you have many responsibilities," Dove said. "Including assigning destinations to the new wave of colony ships."

Primus nodded. Perhaps burying himself in work was the best answer. But first, "Remind me to award all the commanders of fleet the Soutarig Citation."

"Of course, Praetor," Dove said. "Now, we recently finished construction of several new colony vessels..."

[Trogdor]

"A toast to our brave legions!" Hawk said, raising a glass of blue ale high.

Primus and Dove clinked glasses with him. Dove looked slightly disgusted at Hawk's almost Klingon-like enthusiasm. Primus grinned inwardly. A lot of Vulcan still rang in the smaller man's green blood, that was for sure.

The trio was enjoying a small, private celebration of the Romulan legions' recent victory. The Romulan eagle now flew overhead the Talosian homeworld.

"When is the triumph for the fleet commander scheduled for?" Dove asked, sipping his ale.

"When the fleet returns from the campaign," Primus answered. "There's still mop up operations to worry about. It will be a simple enough affair, just the usual parade through the capital city, maybe a few replicated fireworks. Resources are still tight, despite the spoils of war. Besides, I plan to build up the fleet a bit. I'm sensing definate hostility from the Takarans."

"Say the word and they will meet the same fate as the Talosians, Praetor," Hawk vowed.

"Have patience. Tomorrow we can think of the Takarans. Now, we celebrate." Primus refilled his glass and his two advisors' glasses as well. "For the glory of Romulus!"

[Alan Bolte]

Quarzon sat and listend to the Assembly. It was difficult to hear individual voices that were not specifically addressing him (and no one would be so rude as to bother the Predsetadel), but the multitude of voices were not a cacaphony either. The Assembly is not a hivemind by any means, but generally there is... consensus.

Today the Assembly was happy. The worlds knew order and prosperity, and were assured of their safety. The shipyards of Minos Korva held hulls of warships: soon their defense would be active, and their security greater than before the displacement. The Lurians and Zakdorn were friendly enough, and could not pose a threat if they desired to. The Klingons were still a concern, but they had been far less agressive than expected. Generous, even, for a barbarian race. It was safe enough to expand.

"Predsetadel, the planetary shipyards have finished upgrading, and are requesting guidance on what to build. Shall they assist to orbital complex in the creation of our fleeet?"

"No, the fleet will take care of itself, in time. We need colony ships now, and larger than any before. The Klingons' generosity should not be ignored, whether or not it is a trap. The worlds of this distant system rival Tholia itself in their beauty."

"Personally, sir, I prefer Minos Korva IX, but nevermind. Research continues apace, as always. In other news, I realize that you already are aware of the situation, but the inquiries have been increasing as to how much longer we must commune with these organic... things... on our borders."

"We must remain silent for now, I'm afraid. We must not alarm our... allies. Not just yet."