StarDestroyer.Net BBS

If I start having nightmares where someone asks me how many lights there are and I shout out my name, rank, and serial number, I'm coming after your ass, Steve. That torture shit gets under my skin. *shivers*

hmmmmm. much spicier than the usual faire. do continue good sir!

Oh, and Steve--Kuj and I say 'you're welcome' for spawning a fanbase for this story by consistently commenting on it after each chapter you post and/or asking people to check it out for you.

Zaia wrote:Oh, and Steve--Kuj and I say 'you're welcome' for spawning a fanbase for this story by consistently commenting on it after each chapter you post and/or asking people to check it out for you.

I'll have to show my gratitude later.

Steve wrote:

Zaia wrote:Oh, and Steve--Kuj and I say 'you're welcome' for spawning a fanbase for this story by consistently commenting on it after each chapter you post and/or asking people to check it out for you.

I'll have to show my gratitude later.

...I am suddenly afraid...

Captain's Log 20 May 2368 17:23 GST: Attached to the log is all current data and status on the running of the Enterprise. To sum it up, we are on course for Radcliffe's Nebula at Warp 9.29 something something something (only Data would really care). I wanted 9.3 but Captain Lenarova on the Great Lakes assured me that her ship could not maintain that speed for the duration and that her chief engineer would personally flay me if I blew up his precious engines. So I compromised on a few decimal points.
The rest of this log is supposed to be me prattling on about the mission, what I expect to see, and any other details. Well, I don't have the patience for that right now.
Well, I will say this. The whole thing stinks and there are far too many unanswered questions. Why would the Rihannsu - sorry, Romulans - attack a Federation starship operating legitimately in the Triangle? Why would they even plant a spy post there? They have their own problems with the Klingons, Tholians, and Ferengi, they don't need the Federation adding to it.
I'll say it again. This whole thing stinks.

Parker handed the log recorder back to the enlisted yeoman who was responsible for it, a pretty young Petty Officer named Rachel Galvarez. The tan-skinned mestizo woman smiled at him, nodded, and walked away with it. Feeling restless, Parker stood up and walked up behind Hamblin, who was busy monitoring the ship's heading and speed. "ETA, Mister Hamblin?"
"Ten hours, fifteen minutes, Sir."
"I mean to System R4392, Lieutenant."
"Sir, we can't determine that until we gauge the nebula's current condition."
Parker shook his head. "Give me a ballpark, Lieutenant."
Suddenly Data asked, "Captain, why are you asking Lieutenant Hamblin for a ballpark?"
"Figure of speech, Data," came the irritated reply. "I'm asking for a guess."
"Ah." Data nodded and went back to minding his console.
"Well, Sir, anywhere from fourteen to thirty hours." Hamblin touched a few buttons to adjust the Enterprise's course after a gravitational field from a nearby star pulled a little too strongly. "If the nebula's quiet and you want to zip through, we can get by quick, but if we have to slow down..."
Parker nodded. He looked back to Larrisa, who was minding her sensor station. "Lieutenant, if the Romulans do have some kind of spy post scanning Federation space, couldn't we detect it through it's scanning waves?"
"I'm not sure." Larrisa shook her head. "Uh, according to the knowledge of Romulan sensor capability that we do have, it'd have to be active so we would detect it, but if they've got anything better we don't know about..."
Razmara shifted in her chair. "What's on your mind, Captain?"
"This entire situation. The nebula's a dangerous place to pass through, and if I were a commander anticipating Federation forces moving in from other sectors to find Equinox, I'd immediately suspect that nebula." Parker rubbed his hands together. "Mister Hamblin, if we changed course to pass the nebula, when would we arrive at R4392?"
Hamblin ran the calculations. "Eleven hours, forty minutes, Captain."
"Sir, you're not going to..."
"Not yet," Parker said, cutting off Razmara. "Not until I think it over more." He turned toward the turbolift. "Either way, I'm going to catch a little shuteye. You have the Bridge, Commander. Call me in seven hours."
"Yes, Captain." Razmara nodded and moved over into the command seat while Parker entered the turbolift.


Unknown Location


Nothingness.
Carter wasn't sure how much time had passed in the oblivion of sensory deprivation. She had never been so alone in her life. Unfeeling, incapable of comprehending her environment, she was lost in the darkness.
It was when it faded that Carter, for a few moments, thought she heard blood-curdling screams. It was not until she was fully aware again, though, that she realized what was going on. She was still in Madred's office, it seemed, though now she was laying on the floor in the robes they had taken from her earlier. Her eyes fluttered open, the bright lights hurting them and forcing Carter to squint. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the light.
"Commander Carter, you're finally awake. It's been quite a while."
Madred's voice prompted her to turn toward it's origin. Madred was in his chair, and in front of his desk was another figure hanging naked in metallic restraints. Carter crawled up to it and her heart seized up with horror at seeing the spots of a Trill woman. Jadzia was Madred's new victim and he had tortured her to the point of passing out. Her head was slumped down, her eyes shut closed, and her usually perfect raven hair was disheveled. Some of it flowed over her shoulders and chest, obscuring Jadzia's naked breasts and the spots that run from her shoulders down to her belly and the rest of her body. Carter looked back at Madred, who seemed to be quite startled at seeing her. "What are you doing with her?!", Carter demanded, too mentally disturbed to bother with the denial strategy any longer.
"Well, you were out for so long that my sponsers became impatient. It seems the drugs need work for dealing with humans." Madred took a drink from a glass on the table. "So they asked me to interrogate the next bridge officer on the list, Lieutenant Farrelis here." He looked over at her, seeing Carter looking at the ground and trying to get her bearings. "You've been out for nearly a week. In fact, I should tell you that the Federation's investigation into your disappearance has concluded that your ship was destroyed in a tragic accident resulting from some technical problem I'm not sure of. You have no hope of rescue now, Commander Carter, so you should really cooperate before any more of your crew suffers."
Carter croaked, "More?" Her throat was parched and dry which only worsened the strain of her vocal cards.
"The Rihannsu decided to test the proper dosage of that drug. I'm afraid one of your crewmembers, a Section Chief Donald MacIntosh, suffered irrepairable brain damage and is now dead. Then there was an Ensign in your engineering department, Rosa Masters, who is currently comatose from the drug."
"Oh my God...." Carter's horror increased. MacIntosh was a friend and mentor to the entire crew. Rose Masters was going to shore-duty because she was in her second trimester of pregnancy. "Rose's baby!"
"The doctors are not very familiar with human anatomy, but they believe the baby is already dead or has certainly suffered crippling damage." Madred seemed forlorn and depressed. "I really didn't like hearing that."
"What do you care?" rasped Carter. "You don't give a damn about suffering."
"Actually, I prefer it when my subjects break early. I take no particular joy in my line of work. It's a specialty, that's all. I really do feel sorry for Ensign Masters." Madred shook his head. "If only you had given me what I wanted, Commander. Then this entire episode could have been avoided. Lieutenant Farrelis would not have suffered these past few days. Chief MacIntosh and Ensign Masters' baby would still be alive."
If Carter had the energy she would have wept. But there was a voice within her wondering if she could trust this evil man. Madred was an interrogator; his purpose was to extract information from her. He considered her for another moment before pulling his controller out. "Well, Commander, let's try again." He turned the lights on and again there were three. "How many lights do you see?"
What was she to do? Carter's mind raced as she considered the options. Giving into Madred would spare Jadzia and the others and it was her duty to look after her ship's crew, yet they all had their higher duty to Starfleet and the Federation. They couldn't just give Romulan renegades such information.
It was with great hesitation that Carter made her decision.
"Carter, Sharon Marie. Lieutenant Commander." She didn't get a chance to list her serial number. Madred's thumb pressed down on the control and Carter's world dissolved into pain.


Federation Space


With the ships scheduled to arrive in the morning at the nebula, Marina had ordered the night watch, midnight to 0600, to come in two hours earlier so that she and the command crew could rest up for the next day, which would likely involve combat. She retired to her cabin where she showered and changed into a blue nightgown made of satin. After some consideration of what to have to drink before retiring for the night, Marina chose a tea of middling strength to indulge in a philosophical mood. She walked up to her bookshelf and pulled out a copy of one of Hegel's works, preferring to have a solid book in her hands instead of reading from her desk monitor. She slipped into the chair at her desk and set the tea down after taking a sip. Doing so caused her to look at a picture over twenty-five years old; her, aged 19, on a yacht in the Black Sea with a girl of her age, Valentyna Lahenza. In those more libertine years of her life, when Marina was enjoying liberation from the stifling protocols of the independent theocratic Orthodox colony of Novya Sankt-Peterburg, she had been more open and, like Valentyna in the picture, was dressed in a revealing two-piece bathing suit. Seeing the picture made Marina blush slightly. In those days she had been quite stunning to look at, with that flat belly and those nice curves, while today Marina sometimes felt like she had lost the attractiveness and fitness of her youth no matter her personal efforts at physical exercise and activity.
Marina drew in a breath. Sweet Valentyna! O how Marina missed that lovely smile and the rose-colored lips that formed them. Valentyna had been her first lover and to this day there had been none whom Marina pined for more than Valentyna, who she saw far too infrequently. Her history with Valentyna was deeply-rooted in Marina's coming of age and entry into Starfleet. The Lahenzas had been far more understanding people than the Lenarovas that had raised her and she owed them greatly. Marina was living with them at that age to get her education in her family's native Ukraine (or somewhat-native Ukraine, Marina was somewhat of a Slavic mutt with many different national heritages, even including a little Cossack) and the Lahenzas had not objected to her intimacy with Valentyna. Marina considered those years of her life to be her true "growing up" period, when she found personal knowledge and a love of philosophy and history in Sergei Lahenza's study, the practical knowledge of the engineering trade from Svitlana Lahenza's books and office, and perhaps most importantly, love and the intimate pleasures of life in the company of her beloved Valentyna. Seeing that beautiful girl's face again, her graceful and slim figure and long blonde hair, made Marina's heart flutter. Valentyna had even aged gracefully, looking little different from the beautiful teenage girl in the picture. Like Marina she had entered Starfleet as an engineer, but unlike Marina she did not bother with attempting to go into command and had retired about eight years ago, joining an aerospace engineering firm based in Kiev and living in her parents' Black Sea dacha.
Even though she had other friends, Marina never spoke of Valentyna with the others. She valued her privacy above all else; her feelings toward Valentyna, her memories, were for her alone. That didn't stop her from talking with others about the issues of sex, though; she would joke with them in that usual vulgar manner that navy people had. On top of that, she had been recently found a sense of maternal pleasure in helping a junior officer working the comms on Beta Shift, Allen Jones, eliminate a sense of self-loathing over being a homosexual. Marina, and Allen it seemed, have never asked to be this way; it was simply there, and in Marina's case, it was the one thing that made it impossible for her to stay on Novya Sankt-Peterburg, where being homosexual would likely have earned her a painful end or an unhappy marriage by the force of her father.
After looking at the picture for a long moment, Marina sighed and opened her book up to read. She managed three pages before there was a beep from her communicator. "Bridge to Captain Lenarova," she heard Jones say. Marina pressed a button on her desk and replied. "Captain, we're being signaled from Enterprise. Captain Parker wishes to speak with you."
"Put him through to here." For a moment Marina considered asking for a few minutes to change, not entirely comfortable with being in a nightgown and speaking on a visual line. But the impulses toward conservatism that created that discomfort had served her purposes anyway, as her nightgown was a very conservative and unrevealing garment - it was cut just below her neck and shoulders with thick straps running over the shoulders - and there really wasn't much to her arms, shoulders, and neck being visible. She was surprised, however, to see her screen partition into six parts. Parker was in uniform and apparently in his own cabin; Berger was in a muscle shirt and again in his cabin. O'Farrell, Phillips, and Drake were in their offices, or what passed for a captain's office (or ready room) on Avenger. Nobody spoke until the sixth screen came active. Misty was sitting in her own cramped cabin on the Valiant, wearing a red sports bra that bared her midriff and showed abs that Marina would probably kill to have once again. The look in her eyes said she had been asleep when the call came and Misty, not as conservative as Marina or perhaps too tired to consider it, hadn't bothered to put on her uniform.
With everyone present, Parker spoke. "I've spent the last few hours mulling over this situation. And right now I'm not too thrilled with the angle of attack Pressman assigned us."
Phillips beat Berger to the punch. "You mean going through that nasty nebula?"
"It can be a precarious route," said Drake in the stoic English reserve that Marina rather admired. "But it would aid us in remaining undetected."
"The motives Pressman claimed are rather silly anyway." Misty put a hand into her dark hair, which was disheveled from where she had been sleeping. "I mean, I thought we told the Romulans about our patrol routes anyway? Why would they plant some kind of super-duper array into the Triangle to spy on us?"
There was a shrug from Berger. "Well, if they are Romulan renegades, maybe they don't have the clearance to know about it? Or if it's the Romulans themselves, maybe the array that the Equinox found was directed toward the Klingons?"
"Then why is it in the corner of the Triangle between us and the Romulans?" Parker asked. "This entire thing doesn't make a bit of sense. Pressman's just using this as an opportunity to posture with Command."
A wry grin appeared on Marina's face. He's a smart one, she mused. She had spent most of the day and the one previous pondering most of these things. Speaking aloud, Marina inquired, "So, Captain, what would you suggest?"
"Well, if any of you think the nebula route is best, we'll go that way." Parker's expression was grim. "But I don't think we'll find the Romulans behind this. It'll be someone else. And God knows what they'll do to the crew of the Equinox. So I would prefer not bothering with the nebula and just heading on into the Triangle."
"And what about Pressman?" Now O'Farrell was speaking up. "He's not gonna be happy."
"We'll take a course that takes us on an approach route to the nebula and then bank off. I can have Larrisa 'arrange' to detect something in the nebula that we can reasonably expect to be potential contacts. So we decided to go around. At that point, well, Captain Lenarova, if I might inquire into the nature of your engines?" Marina could see Parker put his hands together on his desk. "To make this look good, we'll need to make a spurt of speed into the Triangle. Think your Chief Engineer would mind a sprint of Warp 9.5?"
You're a sly man, Parker, and this is the kind of stunt I'd pull off in your place. It's no wonder I like you. "Ed would be pissed off the entire time," Marina replied frankly, with a hint of a chuckle in there. She did derive amusement from her engineer's tantrums. "But we've pushed 9.6 a couple of times, 9.5 for a few hours shouldn't be bad. I'm in favor of your plan, Captain."
"Hood is not exactly young either," Drake reminded them. "Lieutenant Commander Engasser will probably give me hell for this as well. But I'll agree to your plan."
Everyone chuckled. Each commander knew full well just how cranky engineers could be when one tried to do things to their precious ships. One by one each affirmed their assent to his plan. "Excellent. We'll arrange to slow down for simulated nebula entry and give ourselves enough time for a few scans before we adjust course and begin our sprint. Once we go into the Triangle I recommend we raise our alert status to Yellow." There were nods of assent. Parker looked to something on his side. According to my navigation officer we'll reach the slowdown point for the nebula in about five hours. I'll have him signal me at that time for the official course change. I'll leave the rest of you to whatever you were doing, as it seems we caught a number of people in bed."
Now that made Marina chuckle, especially considering Misty's disheveled appearance and Berger's rather informal attire. Indeed, Misty's was the first signal to cut off, followed by Berger's and Parker's. Marina waited until only Drake remained. The monitor immediately enlarged his image to full. She took a sip and asked him, "What did you think of that?"
"Parker plays a dangerous game." The widest smile possible for Drake formed on his face. "And you look like you're enjoying it. In fact, you have that dangerous glint in your eyes again, Marina."
"You say that all the time," she retorted. "I think he has a good point."
"As do I, or I would not have agreed. Well, you look like you were retiring for the evening. Go get some rest."
"I will. The same goes for you, of course."
"Of course." Drake nodded. "Good night." He touched something off-screen and disappeared. For a moment the Federation logo appeared on Marina's monitor before it reverted to the usual LCARS login screen. She turned the monitor off and brought up her book. Another half-hour of reading would come; afterward with her tea finished Marina slipped into her bed and fell asleep swiftly.


Unknown Location


In enormous pain, Carter was laying on the floor. She had been pumped up with sleep-deprivation meds and tortured for hours. Jadzia had awoken some time into that and Madred had begun torturing them together, never allowing them to speak to one another. Finally, perhaps in a moment of wry torturer's humor, he injected Jadzia with a different drug to put her to sleep, leaving Carter alone and slowly starting to lose her mind. Everything seemed to blur together into one long marathon of pain and terror. Tears rolled down her eyes as Carter wondered how long she could hold out, or if she should even bother. If the Federation thought they were dead, there would be no rescue, no hope at all. They were stuck here. What good would holding out do?
In the Academy, they had all been taught that torture would break them over time. No matter how much willpower one had, or religious conviction, they would eventually fall to the whims and tricks of a clever and trained torturer. Madred certainly fit that bill. Though never a religious woman, Carter began to pray to whatever was out there that she might be spared more suffering.
Carter rolled out of her fetal position and stared up at the ceiling. Jadzia was still shackled to the ceiling and unclothed. Her head was slumped over with her hair mostly over her shoulders and back, making her nakedness more apparent than when Carter had come out of sensor deprivation. Carter sucked in a breath, feeling a cramp in her diaphragm, and let out a long moan. She wanted to sleep so much but the drugs circulating in her body would not permit it. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Suddenly she began to weep. "I'm so sorry...."
Carter wasn't sure how long she'd been weeping when she heard a weak but familiar voice call out to her. She looked up with reddened, bloodshot eyes at Jadzia, who had awoken. Apparently Madred's drug didn't effect Trill as well as intended. "Lieutenant?"
"Commander, Sir, I'm not sure I'm going to make it," Jadzia confessed, breaking out into tears. "It just hurts so much..."
"I know. How many days has he been torturing you?"
"He just started today, Sir."
Now Carter felt something was strange. Madred had made it seem like Jadzia had been with him for a lot longer. "I heard what happened to Chief MacIntosh and Rose."
Jadzia's pained expression showed confusion. "What do you mean by that? Last I knew, nothing's been done to them."
"You mean.... Madred lied to me." The revelation made Carter angry. "How long have we been prisoners?"
"This is the second day, Commander."
Carter nodded. "Listen, Lieutenant, pretend to be asleep when he comes back. He's been trying to trick me."
The door suddenly swished open and Madred entered, flanked by guards. "Why, of course I have, my dear Commander Carter." He seemed to enjoy the pale look on Carter's face while he walked up. "But upon thinking about it, such a facade seemed such a waste. And Lieutenant Farrelis, why keep your face away?"
"I've seen enough of your's already," the Trill woman hissed.
"I suppose you have. Well, since drugging you hasn't worked, perhaps you should both have the night to think about your situations and consider giving in to the inevitable." Madred pulled out his control. "Good evening, I'll see you in the morning."
First he turned on Carter's implant and pain began to echo in her body, a low level pain that enabled her to breathe easy but still ate away at her strength. Jadzia's came on next, a pained expression crossing that usually-pleasant face. With this done Madred turned right around and walked out of the door with his guards. The two women begin to groan loudly, sometimes screaming or crying out when the pain became too much for the moment. And they would spend the rest of the night in this condition.


Neutral Space, The Triangle
21 May 2368 Earth Standard Time


At precisely 0631, the Enterprise decelerated to Warp 6 to prepare an entry into Radcliffe's Nebula. Twenty seconds later, Lieutenant Larrisa began a sensor scan of the nearest environs. She reported to Razmara that there were unidentifiable power spikes in the region not conforming with the established maps of the region. It could be from starships waiting in an ambush of some kind. Razmara ordered further scans and called Parker to the bridge.
Two more scans recognized the spikes as well. By this time Parker had arrived and he did the only thing that could be expected from the situation. After signaling the other ships with new course figures, the Enterprise pulled “down” and to the left, adjusting her course to bypass the Nebula and head straight into the Triangle. The ships each hit Warp 9.5 at once, causing much instigation with the seven chief engineers in the squadron, whom each promised brutal retaliation against their respective COs if their precious engines blew up.
As the hours ticked away, Parker went to his “ready room” on the Bridge’s port-bow side. It was nearly unfurnished with only a desk and office chair. He sat in the chair and stared at the ceiling in an attempt to clear the anxiety from his head. After a short - or perhaps long - period of time passed, he heard the room’s chime sound. When it sounded a second time he sat back up and faced the door. “Come in.”
The door slid open. Razmara entered and stood at attention. “Captain?”
“What is it, Commander?”
“Sir, at our increased speed we’ll be in system R4392 in three hours. Would you like me to go to Yellow Alert?”
“Red Alert, Commander. Have Colonel Kira prep her Marines, just in case we need them.”
Razmara nodded in reply. But she did not move. Parker considered the icy calm in her face and stature. Not the emotionless of the Vulcans he had known but rather that of a trained, seasoned military professional. It was a little odd for Parker - to notice such a difference considering the points on Razmara’s ears, the one outward sign of her Vulcan blood. “Of course, Sir.”
“Anything else, Commander?”
Razmara thought for a moment. “Sir, you seem to be rather nervous.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? We are barreling into Neutral space to look for a lost ship on a mission that could very well spark a war with the Rihannsu.”
“Rihannsu.” Razmara finally seemed to let that calm slip as an indicator she was now speaking informally. “You don’t agree with Pressman, I know. But can you be so sure the Romulans aren’t as bad as he claims? We all know about the experiments on Vulcan abductees a hundred years ago, about the scheming and plotting for war, and this was when they were a third-rate military power behind the Federation and Klingon Empire. They could be much worse now.”
“I don’t deny, Commander, that the Rihannsu are prone to the same vices as we are. But this entire thing doesn’t seem right. Even if we assume they did it, then why? They know our patrol routes in the Triangle. If they wanted to build an illegal facility they would do it outside of those patrol routes."
"Well, Sir, people don't always act as you think they would. And I would point out that the time you spend thinking about what might be the truth is time you won't spend preparing to deal with it."
A smirk curled up on Parker's face. Razmara could be blunt when she wanted to. "Is that a curt reminder of my duties, Commander?"
"Of course not, Sir. Just friendly advice."
For a moment Parker considered telling her how much she looked like a Vulcan while saying that but he thought better of it. "Very well, Commander. Let's go." He got out of his chair and followed her out.
Once out onto the bridge, Parker barked "Red Alert!" and went toward the command chair. Red light flooded the bridge and a series of five alert klaxons sounded with a shrill "wiiiiir" sound. Across the ship the crew was rushing into battle stations. Lt. Jobrie's fingers moved over a couple sections of her console, raising the shields and powering the weapons. Parker and Razmara took their seats almost simultaneously. Razmara immediately said, "Readiness report."
One by one, each station reported in, starting with Hamblin. "Helm responding, sir. All engine systems are functioning properly."
"Bringing tactical sensors online, Captain," reported Larrisa. Parker privately noted his satisfaction with her attentiveness, so much unlike the stereotype of the Edo, while Larrisa's slender fingers moved over a section of her board. He nodded to Razmara, who pressed a number of keys on her console and brought up the holographic three-dimensional tactical display that rested on a pedastal-shaped emitter between their chairs. The Enterprise was represented by a Starfleet arrowhead in the center; their six companions were blue marks. The display was zoomed in to a two hundred kilometer range, encompassing the formation and little else. The graphical representation of warp space, that of streaks of color, appeared around the ships. "Long range sensors are at peak capability; magnetic, heat, light, mass, radio, and subspace scanners are all functioning properly."
Jobrie came next. "Primary phaser arrays and pulse phaser cannons are functioning properly, Captain. Shields at full strength. Torpedo launchers are functioning and loading of first spreads is almost complete. Defensive phaser banks charged and targeting network online."
"Comm arrays are online, Captain." O'Keefe turned his chair forward. "Tactical uplinks with the rest of the squadron are complete."
Data's fingers raced over his own panel besides Hamblin's. "All ship sections report readiness, Captain. Engineering reports that the warp core and fusion cores are functioning properly; main and auxiliary batteries online and charging. Sickbay is preparing to receive battle casualties. Lieutenant Coleman is beginning a pre-launch briefing with his pilots and the fighter launch deck is arming all craft."
There was an approving nod from Razmara. "Captain, the Enterprise is ready."
"Maintain course and speed, Mister Hamblin. Lieutenant," Parker turned to Larrisa's wall station to his left, behind and to the left of Data, "begin sensor scans of the area. Look for any traces of the Equinox."
"Aye, Captain."
O'Keefe turned again. "Sir, the other ships are reporting in. All readiness checks complete and satisfactory. We're ready for combat, Sir."
"Very good, Mister O'Keefe." Parker looked at Razmara. "All that's left is to find out what's happened."
"Somehow, Sir, I think that will be the hard part," came her reply.


The bridge of the Intrepid was dim and covered in red light. Since the Intrepid was an Independence-class starship and thus derived from the failed Galaxy-class, it had the established format of a Galaxy-class ship's bridge with an added station on the Captain's left for the Wing Command Officer. It was there that the stocky one hundred seventy-seven centimeter Commander Petersen was normally seated; the proud Long Island native was now in the main briefing chamber giving a rundown for the four hundred pilots and weapons/sensor officers on the varying fighter craft Intrepid carried.
Seated in the command chair, Phillips thoughtfully considered the situation. They had been cruising for the last hundred and fifty minutes toward the Equinox's last position. The passive sensors were now starting to pick up the signs of a battle; telltale remains of torpedo trails mostly. The brown-haired Vulcan male at the ops station, Lt. Commander Sevak, was busy at his station trying to finetune the Intrepid's sensor equipment to get a clearer picture; as remote help he had the ship's Chief Engineer, Lt. Cmdr. Geordi La Forge, at work in the ship's engineering section playing with the ship's power systems.
Phillips looked to his right and Commander Diane Howard. Born of English aristocracy, Diane had rich black hair tied up into a pony tail that when loose flowed to her upper back. Her ice-blue eyes were as stern and demanding as Phillips had ever seen; a perfect match to her unofficial title of "the Duchess". Now thirty-nine years old, going on fourty, Diane was still as beautiful and fit as the day she entered the Academy. There was a wedding ring on her right hand's ring finger to speak for her lost husband, Edward, a Starfleet Marine killed by Cardassians ten years ago in such a brutal way that his widow's severe hatred of Cardassia rivaled most Bajorans. They had a son, Eddie, who as Phillips recalled was about to end his second year at Starfleet Academy (she had lost an entire year at the Academy to bring Eddie into the world and fulfill maternal obligations in his infancy). Diane's eyes met Phillips and their extreme boredom showed. It was an anxious kind of boredom, a knowledge that something was about to happen but they couldn't see it coming; not until someone got a clear sensor picture of System R4392. "Lieutenant Larsen," Diane spoke out in an aristocratic-sounding "ordering" voice, "double-check all weapons systems."
Similarly bored at the time was the sandy-haired woman seated behind Phillips, the ship's tactical officer and native of the Lunar Goddard Colony; Lieutenant (SG) Saffi Larsen. Saffi's aquamarine eyes looked over the tactical console under Diane's watchful gaze. "Phaser arrays charged and ready. Primary torpedo launchers loaded with quantum torpedoes as the Captain ordered. Secondary torpedo launchers on the primary saucer hull loaded with photon torpedoes and ready. Defensive phaser banks charged and ready; defensive targeting computers are operating properly and all known Romulan projectile weapons and light craft have been fed into the system."
"Thirty minutes until we enter System R4392, Captain," reported the ship's nav officer, a Bajoran; Ro Laren.
"I just wish we could bloody well hurry this up," muttered Diane. "I'm getting tired of waiting."
"So am I, but orders are orders." Phillips rested his head against a hand. "Commander Sevak, anything more on sensors?"
The stoic Vulcan's reply was customary. "Nothing of note, Captain."
There was an agitated nod from Phillips. He put his hand on his command chair's comm system and punched the link to Main Engineering. "Bridge to Engineering. How is the core holding up?"
La Forge's reply was punctual. "We're starting to see some wear and tear in the reaction containment fields, Captain. But we'll make it with plenty of time to spare. Just don't push her much harder."
"I'll relay that to Captain Parker." Phillips severed that link as well and sighed. Right now he didn't want to be racing through subspace but back on Earth, sitting on some quiet tropical beach beside Zandra while his kids played in the surf. Or at least a holodeck representation. The Starbase would have sufficed. Well, not for the other things he'd want to do with Zandra on a nice, secluded, and intensely romantic beach. But that was what bedrooms were for.
For a short while nothing was said. Suddenly Diane asked, "How is Patrick Junior?"
"He's doing fine."
"And the girls?"
"Growing up faster than I care to see." Phillips saw where the conversation was going. "How is Eddie?"
"He's ranked in the upper third of his class right now." Maternal pride briefly showed through the professional cold of Diane's manner. "If he gets at least a B on his term finals in Tactical Operation he'll be allowed into the command line a year before he expected to."
"Good to hear."
"Captain, I am receiving a communication from the Enterprise." Sevak did not turn his head and seemed intent on his board. "Their Navigation Officer is transmitting new course data to us. I am relaying it to Lieutenant Ro now."
Sevak nodded at Ro who looked over her console. "Sir, the course would take us to a system about twenty light years away from the Equinox's last known point," Ro said. "System designation R4425."
"Enterprise is altering her course, sir."
"I am altering course to maintain formation. ETA to R4425: forty-four minutes."
Phillips looked on with some interest; he hadn't even been given a chance to render a decision in the matter, speaking for his bridge crew's ability to act without superior officers' input. "Mister Sevak, any idea why Enterprise changed course?"
"None, Sir." Sevak was examining his sensor screen on the left partition of his console. "My readings have not changed. But Enterprise does carry sensor equipment years ahead of our own."
"Then they've found something. Finally we're getting to the bottom of this." Phillips and Diane exchanged looks. "Bridge to Fighter Command; Mister Petersen, you'd better hurry it up down there."


It had been a few minutes before Sevak's report to Phillips that Larrisa was staring intently at her sensor screen. At warp, only subspace scanners functioned with any kind of accuracy; they could, however, act as a medium for the other sensor equipment. She was currently reading the decaying warp trails of at least two ships, preserved by the particular "ecology" of local subspace, streaking away from the Equinox's last position. Most Starfleet ships would have been incapable of detecting the minute traces. Enterprise, fortunately, was not like most ships.
"Sir, I've got a decaying warp trail in-system," she reported to Parker, turning in her chair. "Very near Equinox's last position."
Razmara beat Parker to the next question. "Picking up Equinox at all, Lieutenant?"
"No, Sir. I'm not picking up a single warp signature. And I'm not close enough for mass sensors."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Transfer the course heading to the conn." Parker stood up and walked to the helm. "Mister Hamblin, tell us where it leads."
"Running the trail through now, Sir." Hamblin's fingers touched a number of keys, adjusting the the information on his panel's main screen to show the path of the trails Larrisa had detected. "Nearest system is R4425, Captain. Twenty light years from Equinox's last position."
"Lay in a new course and bring us onto it. Mister O'Keefe, transmit new heading to the squadron."
Two affirmations echoed on the bridge. Slowly the Enterprise changed direction, moving about a tenth of a degree to the left and bringing the bow up by about a quarter of a degree. The maneuver was so slight that the naked eye would barely notice it. Sophisticated computers controlled the proper attitude changes for the ship to meet it's new course, since the distances of interstellar travel meant that even the slightest course change would lead to a new direction that could become quite far from the original. Indeed most of interstellar navigation consisted of general course headings to get near a system and then a series of course corrections to enter the destination system, where ships generally dropped to sublight and maneuvered their way back in at impulse.
Parker nodded with satisfaction and went back to his seat. He looked over at Razmara and met her glance. "Looks like we're going to find out the truth soon enough. Let's go through one more systems check."


Unknown Location


There was a constant thought in Carter's mind as the hours pressed in what seemed an eternity of pain: I'm not going to make it. She was laying on the floor between Madred's desk and Jadzia, unconscious once more from the pain that wracked them. Carter could still feel it cycling through her, gnawing at her on the inside. She was weeping from it because she could no longer cry, but even her tears were no longer flowing. How many days had passed? Was it morning yet? Was it late night? Or had Madred left them to suffer alone and it was really the afternoon?
Turning onto her belly, Carter rested her elbows on the floor while trying to subdue the sickness within her from the constant pain. She reached up and grabbed the desk with her left hand. Then her right hand gripped it's edge and she pulled herself up toward the metal slab. On top was the control mechanism for their pain implants. For a moment Carter just stared at it, gritting her teeth and trying to focus on the object. It seemed so small and simple, not at all the kind of thing that could cause her and Jadzia such hideous torment.
Then Carter simply snapped. An animalistic shriek came from her lungs and she reached forward, gripping the device. The pain dissolved away into rage as she began to slam the device down on the desk over and over again, screaming hatred at it over and over again. After so many hours of pain and suffering it seemed a suitable release to punish this inanimate object. But in Carter's mind it was Madred she was assaulting. That sinister face, those cruel eyes.... she was slamming them into the desk over and over again.
Weakened by this act of retribution-by-proxy, Carter collapsed to her knees and dropped the controller. Her body simply quit on her, without energy to do more than sit there and weep from pain. It took her a short while to realize the pain was no more. She had broken the device with her assault. A weak smile crossed her face as she felt a euphoria at her "victory". No matter how petty it seemed she had struck back at Madred.
Carter remained in her pose for a while. Her breathing was quiet and strained. Carter's entire body seemed stretched and worn, every muscle worn out and unwilling to move without painful protest. Her neck protested with such pain when she raised her head to see Jadzia wake up. The device had turned off her implant too. Jadzia's eyes looked back at Carter's, full of pain and misery. "What happened?"
"I destroyed it."
There was a simple nod. Then Jadzia sighed and closed her eyes again. She suffered from the same stiffness as Carter's, amplified because unlike Carter she had been restrained for the previous day. "What are we going to do?"
"Resist."
"Why?"
"Because it's our duty." But Carter now wondered if it was even possible to resist. She felt so weak and empty. Even though the direct pain was gone now, she knew it wouldn't last. Madred would get a new device and his punishment would be horrible.
But how horrible? It occurred to Carter that there was nothing worse he could do. What could Madred do that was more painful than the tortures he had already inflicted upon them?
There were tears on Jadzia's face when she whimpered, "I'm not going to make it. I just want him to stop. I just don't know how to make him."
Carter tried to get back on her feet to face her shipmate directly. She stumbled onto one foot, using the desk to pull herself up. "Don't speak like that. That's what he wants you to think."
"Commander.... it hurts too much."
"Jadzia...." Carter looked into Jadzia's eyes as firmly as she could manage. "You're not going to submit."
"It's too much, Commander! I can't resist it anymore! I just want the pain to go away! I...."
"Lieutenant, you are a Starfleet offiicer!" Carter snapped (as much as she could snap in her weakened condition). "I order you to stand firm. It is your duty and it is mine!"
"He's going to break us anyway." Jadzia protested.
"The longer we hold out, the better chance for rescue," Carter said, hoping there was a rescue coming.
"Commander..."
"I gave you an order, Lieutenant. I expect you to carry it out." In Jadzia's blue eyes, which usually shined with the intelligence the young woman usually possessed, Carter could see only misery and despair. Jadzia wanted so desperately to be safe, to be spared, and was near the breaking point. In her heart Carter regretted having to be so rough on Jadzia. But it was necessary to bolster her flagging will. Jadzia was younger and since she hadn't gone through command school had no resistance training, only the basics taught to cadets. Carter had taken the Advanced Survival and Resistance course a few years before to make senior security officer (and eventual command officer) grade. If not she probably wouldn't have lasted very long either.
It looked like Jadzia was going to reply for a few moments. No reply actually materialized. Instead she began to weep bitterly. Carter steadied herself against the desk to try and think of something else to say.
The doors swished open and Madred walked in. He looked at them and seemed a bit surprised. "You look rather well." His eyes spied out the broken control mechanism. "I see you broke your controller. No matter; I have another in the desk." He walked toward them in a matter that seemed rushed to Carter. There was something amiss, she felt; Madred's pace was off and his expression was a little paler than usual. "This has been an interesting few days, Commander Carter. You've quite strong-willed. Your young friend, however." Madred moved beside Jadzia and looked over her body. A hand came up and gripped Jadzia's chin. Madred turned her head to look at her. "Lieutenant Farrelis seems ready to accept the inevitable, don't you think? How much longer will she last? Well, Lieutenant? How much more can you take?" Madred walked around the desk and leaned over at it's right side. He pulled out another control mechanism and changed a setting on it. His fingers wrapped around the dial and twisted it. Jadzia stiffened up and her upper teeth bit into her lower lip. "Is the pain becoming too much, Lieutenant?" Madred flipped a switch on the underside of his desk and activated the three lights. "I'll tell you what. You tell me how many lights there are. If you answer as I want to hear, I'll let you go. What do you think?"
There was no response from Jadzia.
"How many lights are there?"
For a few moments there was no response. "Three lights," Jadzia finally answered, despite the expression on Carter's face.
"Wrong." Madred turned the dial, causing Jadzia to howl. Her twitching increased in intensity, as she was unable to move from the shackles holding her to the ceiling, and the pained expression on her face grew stronger. "There are four lights. How many lights are there?"
"Three lights."
The dial was turned again and Carter watched helplessly as another howl came from Jadzia. "How many lights?", Madred asked again.
This time there was a pause. From appearances Jadzia was in too much pain to think clearly. "Three lights," she finally managed to say.
Again the dial turned. Carter closed her eyes, unable to look at the pretty young Trill while she suffered so horribly yet again. She could hear Madred repeat "There are four lights" and again make that damned inquiry. Jadzia's answer was weak and half-hearted; "Three."
This time the scream that came from Jadzia was so horrible that Carter forced her eyes to open. With the restraints holding her in place there was little that Jadzia could do save screaming, and she did that quite loudly. Tears began to form on her eyes from the intensity of pain shooting through her, her nerves catching fire. Madred made his inquiry once more. Jadzia's eyes were closed, so Carter could not read the emotions that might be there. A thought crossed her mind: would it be so bad to answer for Jadzia? She, Sharon Carter, was the one that Madred wanted. Jadzia was just a pawn. A playtoy for Madred.
"There are four lights!"
Jadzia's agonized cry echoed in the room and in Carter's heart. She looked to Madred with hate burning in her pale green eyes at his smug and satisfied grin. He twisted the dial once more, in the opposite direction. If her wrists were not locked into the metal block connected to the ceiling, Jadzia would have crumbled onto the floor. Her weight shifted forward and her head fell completely downward, causing her disheveled hair to fall over and partially obscure her chest, which was heaving from the effort of breathing. Her body glistened from sweat produced during the intense pain. Her eyes finally opened and Carter looked into those blue eyes and saw a new emotion to go with misery and despair: sorrow. Jadzia's will was broken.
Before Carter could speak to her in any way, Madred walked around the desk again and came up to her. "Well, Lieutenant, you finally accept the inevitable." He put a hand on her chin and lifted her head up. "It took you long enough. But before I let you go, I really would like to know more of what you know. About your ship's course in the Triangle... about the courses of other Federation ships. You were Equinox's sensor officer, were you not?"
"I was the science officer. I never kept track of those things."
"That answer is not satisfactory." Madred turned the dial back on all the way. Jadzia screamed. "Don't try to hold out on me, Lieutenant. I've already broken you. You belong to me now."
"I don't know!" The dial turned up more. Jadzia's wailing echoed in Carter's heart and made it feel sick. "I don't know!" Jadzia shouted before resuming her screaming.
Madred looked to Carter. "She doesn't know, does she? Go on, you can answer."
"Go to Hell."
"If she doesn't know, Commander, I have no more reason to torture her, do I?"
Carter bit into her lip. "It doesn't matter. You'll continue to torture her anyway."
"Oh, very bright." A smile curled on Madred's lips. "I've observed you two since I put you together. It fits your file, Commander Carter. Your loyalty to your subordinates and shipmates; that is your singular fault. If I continue to torture you, your resistance will continue. But your shipmates? You'll break for their sakes. After all, even the implants can kill, and Lieutenant Farrelis has only minutes to live. But she won't be the last. One by one I'll parade them in here. They will be there, suffering, degraded, pleading for mercy. Pleading to you to help them escape the pain. And you will, Commander Carter, because I will make you watch." Madred turned the dial and Jadzia's screams stopped; the pain was so intense that she could barely breathe. "How many lights are there, Commander?"
"Three."
"Are you going to let Lieutenant Farrelis die over the lights? Would you? I will kill her, Commander." Madred's expression was cold and sinister. "Your lives are nothing to me. You're just tools. Pawns. I do with you as I please. So, your pride... are Lieutenant Farrelis's life? Those are your only options."
That was it. Madred watched the conflict in Carter's face as Jadzia slowly suffocated. His ultimatum would work; she would break for him rather than let her crew be tortured and killed in turn. Madred had set this up completely by the book. It always worked, no matter which race his subjects were from. Carter could not let her subordinates suffer because of her own precious honor; she would give him what he wanted to spare Jadzia.
Which is why it was to Madred's complete surprise when Carter chose a third option and lunged at him like a wounded and enraged animal; an appropriate comparison to Carter at that moment.
Carter's body was weak from two days of intense torture and lack of food and adequate water. But what little strength she had left was now augmented by her hatred for Madred. Transformed to rage, it was a spring of strength that now drove Carter to her frenzied attack. Though Madred outmassed her handily Carter's attack caught him by surprise. He tripped backward onto his desk and dropped the control, which Carter grabbed. She twisted the dial clockwise until she felt a click. Jadzia began breathing hard and again slumped over. Carter saw Madred reach for the control and threw it against the opposite wall, where it clanged against the metallic wall and hit the ground. Madred angrily slapped Carter in the side of the mouth, knocking her down and drawing blood, before going for the control mechanism. Carter recovered in time to jump onto his back, shrieking like a crazed animal, and put her arms around his armored throat. If he were human the chokehold might have worked but Madred's Cardassian flesh was scaled and tougher than human flesh, so she could not restrict his airflow as easily. He turned and began to slam her against the wall, pounding again and again. Carter screamed as she tried to hold on against the pain of being crushed between the wall and Madred's mass.
As Madred pulled away from the wall after the fourth slam, the entire station seemed to shake and he fell downward, sending both sprawling onto the floor. Carter scrambled to her feet in a half-daze, wondering why it seemed that the station shook. As she went after Madred, another rumble tossed both off their feet. Klaxons sounded in the room, echoing over and over again, and a voice began barking orders in the Romulan language.
The station was under attack.

First post, haha!

Good stuff man, keep writing this quickly, and you might even keep the ravenous hordes from devouring you.

Mmm. good stuff. I gave you that suggestion online earlier as well.

To sum up my feelings in a word: awesome.

Simply. Fucking. Awesome. All it's missing is some good Trek space combat, which looks like its coming up in the next chapter. I can't wait to see it!

CARTER KICKS ASS!!!

Can't wait for more.

Very cool, nice use of the Cardassians and I still enjoy your characterization of the Federation.

Ah, what the fuck, the story's almost done anyway, I might as well let you see the battle!

The Enterprise and her squadron dropped out of warp about a light second away from the Romulan station that had just appeared on their sensors. Parker was swift to begin issuing orders. "Launch all bombers. Target the station with a spread of quantum torpedoes and try to hit their comm array, I don't want them calling for help."
Data turned in his chair. "Sir, wouldn't it be best to hail them first?"
Before Parker could respond, Larrisa shouted, "I've got contacts decloaking around the station! Reading ten Warbirds, including three D'Deridex-class capital ships!"
"Larrisa, run life scans if you can, I want to see if you can find non-Romulan lifeforms." Parker considered the tactical display for a moment. "Lieutenant Jobrie, target Capitals 1 and 2. Leave Capital 3 for Intrepid and her bombers. Our bombers will focus on that station, I want to knock her shields down so we can seize her."
Affirmations sounded on the bridge. "Quantum torpedoes locked on the station, Captain!"
"Sir, the lead Romulan is firing!" The ship rocked slightly from the impact of a heavy disruptor on the bow shields.
Parker wasted no time shouting, "Fire!"
A spread of four quantum torpedoes erupted from the Enterprise's forward launcher. They raced through space at a high fraction of light speed, bypassing the Warbirds before they could react and slamming into the station's shields. On his own accord, Berger had Minneapolis send another spread of quantums against the station before turning his ship to engage the lead cruiser-grade Warbird. The lead four Warbirds fired their plasma torpedoes in concert against the Enterprise and Intrepid. As they drew closer the small phaser banks on Enterprise's forward hull stabbed out. When they struck torpedoes the detonations created greenish-orange flowers of color in space. The remaining torpedoes struck the Enterprise, causing the bridge to shudder from the strain on the shields. "Forward shields holding at eighty percent," Data reported.
In retaliation for the one torpedo that managed to hit her, Intrepid's own torpedo launchers fired in anger and her two main phaser arrays fired. One of the phasers barely missed; the other drained the bow shield on Capital 2. The torpedoes slammed into it's bow shields while Enterprise's phasers lashed out. A spread of photon torpedoes from Hood lashed out in term; the Excelsior's phasers indicated her target was the second cruiser grade Warbird, which responded with plasma torpedoes and disruptors. Avenger and Valiant raced away from Intrepid toward the four Romulan destroyers closing on the squadron.


On the bridge of Great Lakes, the crew was deathly quiet and not quite sober; they had spent the last hour indulging in a half-pint each of vodka. Marina had found that such a quantity was usually enough to steel her crew's nerves for combat without inebriating them, though naturally Starfleet would not approve. Dalton reported quickly on the targets of the other ships. Marina did not wait for Parker to assign her ship a target; she thought about the targets before her and chose one of the Romulan destroyers. In a loud voice she barked firing and maneuvering orders to Dalton and Lt. (J.G.) Frank Hipper.
In reply Great Lakes' forward phaser banks and arrays fired. Four beams converged on the destroyer, three making contact with the bow and ventral shields. Quantum torpedoes raced out of the rapid-fire launcher pod fixed to the frigate's drive hull and each exploded either against the destroyer's shields are in proximity to them. This alone might not have killed the destroyer, but the follow-up fire from the Valiant's forward phaser cannons did the job effectively. The destroyer's shields crumbled and her prow was blown half-off; a phaser blast from one of Great Lakes' arrays finished her in that area.
The ship immediately shook from the attack of another destroyer coming to aid her slain sister; a spread of two plasma torpedoes detonated against the Lakes' shield. Phaser and disruptor fire passed by each other and the two ships exchanged fire quickly. "Shields holding at sixty percent," Dalton's gruff voice reported.
Another maneuver order led to the Great Lakes rolling to present her ventral side to the oncoming destroyer, which was racing past. The ventral phaser banks fired and strained the destroyer's shields.
The ship rocked hard and the reason why became apparent. With Hood and Minneapolis engaged with the other cruisers, the third had moved on to strike at Great Lakes; probably she intended to get on Enterprise's back while Parker was mixing it up with the D'Deridex Warbirds. The cruiser's plasma torpedoes had already battered the smaller New Orleans-class frigate's shields and now her forward disruptor cannons were draining them. "Forward shields below fifty percent!" shouted Dalton while he returned fire. The Great Lakes retorted with her own phasers and a spread of photon torpedoes from her drive hull's bow tubes. The Romulan swatted two of the three torpedoes away with smaller disruptors and the last only managed to further degrade shields not badly-hurt from the Lakes' comparitively weak phasers.
Another burst of disruptor fire struck Great Lakes. Hipper maneuvered the ship to the right to present her stronger port shields. Marina permitted this but ordered Hipper to keep the Lakes between the cruiser and the Enterprise. While the Lakes exchanged fire with the cruiser the other destroyer came back around to hit her from behind. Dalton caught the ship's approach and fired the Lakes' rear phasers and torpedo tubes. The streaks of phaser energy crackled against the shields of the destroyer and a pair of torpedoes, their propulsion fields creating red sparkles, impacted against the same shields. A followup blast from a lighter phaser array cut into the Warbird's primary hull on the right side.
It's return fire hit the Great Lakes at an inopportune time; the cruiser was pouring it's firepower into the rear portions of the port shields. The fire from their disruptors and the destroyer's plasma torpedoes overloaded the shield generator responsible for the quadrant. The shields on the port side fell, exposing the Lakes' hull to fire. A disruptor beam from the cruiser immediately fired and sliced up the Lakes' port drive hull, damaging the armor and causing a couple of hull breaches.
Before it could resume it's attack, Intrepid raced in at three-quarters impulse. On her bridge, Saffi Larsen's aim was straight and true; all of Intrepid's bow and starboard phasers cut into the larger of the two Warbirds and dropped her shields. Quantum torpedoes erupted from the main launchers and impacted with the cruiser's hull, causing eruptions that shattered the metallic-green hull plates that protected her insides. The cruiser immediately turned to engage Intrepid while Lakes retaliated with her own weapons, maneuvering to present better shields to her and the destroyer Warbird.


Seated in the pilot's seat of his Wolverine heavy fighter-bomber, Chris Coleman noticed the beating that the frigate Great Lakes was taking, and the threat to Enterprise's rear presented by her foes, and swung his craft away from a planned attack run on one of the capital Warbirds to aid the frigate. "Vertigo 1 to Vertigo 2, 5, 6, 9, 10, 11, and 12, come into formation with me. Vertigo 3, take the rest of the squadron and deal with those big birds."
The eight Wolverines arranged in an X formation as they closed on the cruiser Warbird, which was thrusting away from the massive Intrepid while Great Lakes scoured her ventral shields. At range Coleman shouted on the squadron comm "Fox 1!" and fired one of his quantum torpedoes. The other fighters did so as well and they broke away.
The torpedoes raced through space and impacted against the cruiser's port and bow shields. The last torpedo penetrated the Warbird's depleted port shield and slammed into one of her engine nacelles. A spectacular explosion tore the nacelle off and left the Warbird trailing atmosphere and debris from her wounds while her crew endeavored to establish emergency forcefields.
Coleman saw the wounds on the cruiser but ignored them. Intrepid was there and could handle it, proven since he saw her phasers continuing to flay the wounded cruiser while he came about. "Stay in formation, folks, let's go for that station." Coleman flipped his comm unit over to the frequency with Enterprise. "Vertigo 1 to Enterprise, I'm going to make an attack run on the station so we can send the Colonel and her Marines over."
"Good luck, Vertigo 1", he heard O'Keefe reply.
The Wolverines accelerated to full impulse quickly and soared by the Warbirds tangling with Minneapolis and Hood. A destroyer broke off from a run against the Enterprise and fired a few disruptor beams at them, all missing, before it was hit by a burst of fire from the Valiant and forced to turn away to avoid destruction. Within range of the station the Wolverines fired once more. Their forward-mounted ulse phasers stabbed at the shields of the space station. As he banked away Coleman switched to the forward-mounted particle cannons on the fighter and fired; white bursts of energy punched through the weakened shields and scoured some of the station's hull. His wingmate and the other fighters with him did the same before coming around with him for another attack run.


Enterprise's weapons were firing in anger for the first time; for the Romulans, it was a particularly nasty fury. The Sovereign-class ship raced straight for the capital Warbirds, absorbing their initial shots easily. Phaser fire struck out again and again, as quickly as Jobrie could manage, draining the shields of her targets. Another spread of quantum torpedoes erupted from the launcher and impacted on the shields of one of the D'Deridex Warbirds. An immediate burst of fire from Enterprise's bow-mounted pulse phaser cannons finished off the weakened shields and tore into the prow of the Romulan ship.
The second D'Deridex fired her wing-mounted disruptor cannons at Enterprise, impacting on her shields with a splatter of green-on-blue energy. Plasma torpedoes erupted from her command prow's launcher and were immediately met by the Enterprise's defensive phasers; two out of five made impact on the shield. The third D'Deridex moved into range while the Enterprise maneuvered to starboard, presenting her ventral shields while the ventral phasers drained away the first Warbird's shields further. A pair of photon torpedoes came out of her aft launcher and impacted with the Romulan cruiser tangling with the Minneapolis, hitting her in her weakened starboard shields to bring them to near-collapse. Berger returned the favor by bringing his forward torpedo launcher to bear on the Enterprise's main target and hitting her with a spread of quantums. The phaser arrays on the Enterprise's belly, under her navigational deflector, struck out right after the quantums exploded. Twin beams of ruby energy lanced behind the Warbird's command prow and struck her port nacelle. It seemed to shatter for a moment before the plasma in the nacelle exploded, sending shards of nacelle fragments into nearby targets.
The wounded Warbird reacted by striking Enterprise's belly shields with her disruptors. She pulled upward to followed Enterprise on her aft; an unfortunate move as it brought her into the sights of two squadrons of bombers from Intrepid. The Wolverines fired a barrage of quantum torpedoes that battered the Warbird's weakened shields. Explosions began to flower on her hull as the second squadron poured on phaser fire. Avenger turned from a crippled destroyer Warbird and lashed out at the big but wounded D'Deridex. Her quantum torpedoes found their mark in the Warbird's lower hull, which seemed to shatter before the D'Deridex finally came apart and was silent.
The last two capital Warbirds combined their fire on Enterprise's bow shields. A pair of plasma torpedoes from the third broke through the Enterprise's shields and detonated against her main hull. On the bridge, sparks showered over the bridge from feedback through the shield systems and violent rocking strained the bridge crew against their seat harnesses. Parker's voice was loud and firm as he demanded a damage report. "There are two hull breaches on Deck 12," Data reported. "Emergency forcefields are in place and damage control teams are moving to patch the damage."
"Lieutenant Jobrie, target Capital 3! Mister O'Keefe, tell Intrepid's bombers to focus their firepower on her."
Two affirmations were quickly given. Hamblin rolled the Enterprise to present her port to Capital 2, making her seem "upside down" compared to some of the other ships. Her starboard phasers lashed out at Capital 3 while the targeted D'Deridex fired her plasma torpedoes into Enterprise's strong starboard shields. Enterprise turned toward Capital 3. Jobrie was starting to sweat while she waited for the bow torpedo launchers to lock onto Capital 3. She stroked the keys to fire bow phasers at Capital 3 while the Enterprise's aft phaser array struck at Capital 2. Capital 2, not to be outdone, poured disruptor cannon fire at the Enterprise and began battering her aft shields.
The moment she acquired a lock, Jobrie fired all of the bow torpedo launchers. Two spreads of quantum torpedoes, four from the primary launcher and two from the primary hull's secondary launcher, struck out at the Warbird. They found the shields easilly pierced with the aid of the Enterprise's phasers and smashed against the Warbird's massive prow. Explosions flowered over it's hull repeatedly; one of the torpedoes had impacted with the Warbird's torpedo magazines. It made the combined particle cannon fire of the bombers rather unnecessary. The lights on the massive Warbird blinked out bit by bit as it's power grid was devastated by internal explosions. The bombers' attack run finished off what was left.
Enterprise shuddered again from the plasma torpedoes and disruptor fire that battered her aft shields. "Aft shields at thirty percent!" shouted Data. "The generator moorings are buckling!"
"Bring us about, Mister Hamblin!"


Enterprise turned to the last D'Deridex, which was firing another spread of plasma torpedoes. Before the torpedoes could impact on Enterprise's failing aft shields, Minneapolis moved between the two ships and took the hits to her stronger dorsal shields. The cruiser she had been dueling came after her and took a spread of quantum torpedoes from Minneapolis's aft launcher for her trouble; her command prow nearly suffered a similar fate to the second D'Deridex but her shields held and allowed her crew to fire another burst of disruptor fire into Minneapolis's failing aft shields. The shields flickered out of existance in time for another green lance to rake along the rear of her primary hull. The last D'Deridex fired a full volley into Minneapolis's dorsal arc and the ship's shields collapsed from damage to her generator. In the few moments it took Zaharia to bring the secondary shield generator online, a disruptor beam from the D'Deridex cut into the housing for one of Minneapolis's nacelles.
On the Minneapolis's bridge, the crew was thrown against their seat harnesses by the impacts. The shaking grew worse when the cruiser behind them put a disruptor beam into the back of her torpedo pod just before the auxiliary shields engaged. Later it would be determined that a mere ten centimeters of armor had held to protect the torpedo magazine in the pod. For the moment, Berger bellowed out a demand for a damage report. "They've knocked out our warp drive, Sir!" Katherine Hall replied from her station. "Hull breaches in the launcher pod and Decks 3, 4, 6, 7, and 9!"
"Sickbay is sending medical teams to the breached areas, Captain," Breit quickly added. "Doctor Sokol estimates at least two dozen casualties!"
"Mister Kiefvor, get us out of the way!"
The sandy-haired Trill male at the conn bellowed an affirmative and maneuvered the wounded Minneapolis away. Martin took his chance to fire all of Minneapolis's available phasers toward both of her foes. The cruiser behind her followed while the D'Deridex, her crew probably cursing her missed opportunity against Enterprise, resumed her fight with the Federation flagship. "He's good, Captain! He's staying on our rear!"
"Cut starboard impulse engines and boost power to port! Bring us about hard to starboard! Mister Hall, all weapons on my mark!"
Minneapolis's port impulse drive cut out and the ship began to whip around at a rate that strained the weakened inertial dampners to the point that the crew felt intense G forces from the sudden turn. The Romulan cruiser's captain saw the maneuver and wisely tried to maneuver away.
As he did, Enterprise lended a hand with a spread of photon torpedoes from her secondary launcher. The red sparkles detonated against the cruiser's aft shields. Alone they did no damage but it did provide strain to the overall shield grid of the cruiser, weakening her for Berger's intended attack. As his ship's bow pointed toward her foe, a single shout of "Fire!" echoed in Minneapolis's bridge. The Minneapolis's forward phasers and torpedoes fired in concert. The phasers were the first to make impact and drain the enemy cruiser's failing shields. This left the pulse phaser cannons to completely remove them. The final bursts from the cannons tore up the cruiser's prow so that the spread of quantum torpedoes could finish the vessel off, beheading it.
"Bridge to Engineering; give me a time estimate to restore warp drive."
Berger's message was answered about five seconds later by Zaharia. Any of the usual shyness and reserve in her soprano voice was missing at this point. "I've got two teams working on restoring plasma flow to the nacelle, Captain, but I can't complete repairs without sending a team EVA to examine and patch over the external sections. An estimate is going to have to wait until we're clear from combat."
"Do what you can. Berger out." Berger took a moment to look over the battle on his own small tactical display. Enterprise was duking it out with the last of the D'Deridex Warbirds. Three of the four destroyers were either destroyed or crippled; the third actually blinked out from a quantum torpedo fired by Valiant while Berger was looking. This left the other two cruisers. One was hobbled and dueling it out with Intrepid and Great Lakes and the other was fighting with Hood while fending off a squadron of Wolverines from Intrepid. Berger thought for a moment before looking back up. "Mister Kiefvor, three quarters impulse, bring us by Cruiser 3. Let's give our English friend a hand."


The second-to-last Romulan destroyer erupted into flame on the viewscreen of the Valiant. Misty took a brief moment to admire their handiwork while Jane's fingers flew over her console, bringing the ship about and changing it's attitude so they could target the fourth and final destroyer, which was exchanging shots with Avenger. A plasma torpedo exploded on Avenger's weakening shields. Her dorsal phaser bank retaliated and stabbed the destroyer's bow shield with a ray of red energy. "Tuvok, give him something else to worry about," she ordered, not bothering with her informal and highly irritating nickname for the Vulcan.
Tuvok's aim was quite good; a burst of fire from Valiant's forward banks tore through the destroyer's shields. The bow torpedo launchers were reloaded too late to fire at the destroyer as Valiant moved past so Jane maneuvered the Valiant so that Tuvok could lock on with the aft launcher. A single quantum torpedo came out the rear and struck the destroyer's dorsal hull and it's cloaking emitters. The cloaking device was killed by the shot. The destroyer vented atmosphere and debris for a few moments before her forcefields kicked in.
Before the destroyer could manuever to pursue either foe, Great Lakes put a spread of quantum torpedoes into her aft section. Hipper maneuvered the frigate so that Dalton's bow phasers could each find their target. Four beams converged on the sleek green craft and cut through her aft quarter. Hipper pulled the bow up and the lower torpedo tubes spat photon torpedoes at the damaged destroyer. Two red sparkles raced through space and slammed into the destroyer's rear. The resulting explosion birthed more destruction; white and red plumes erupted through the destroyer's sleek green hull. The destroyer came apart, the shattered remains of her aft section seperated from her dead command prow.
This left two targets. Misty turned her chair to face the young Ensign at Operations, a New Zealander native named Christine Bennington. Christine had an exotic appearance thanks to her auburn-toned red hair and the tanned bronze skin complexion from Maori and Caucasian parents; she was Misty's favorite workout partner and the only female on the ship to match her in athletic build, having been a key player on the Starfleet Academy football - soccer to North Americans - team. "Christy, information on targets?"
"They're down to two, Commander," Christine answered. She checked her systems. "The last D'Deridex is getting pounded by the Enterprise, Intrepid, and Avenger plus Intrepid's fighters, and Great Lakes is turning to help Hood and Minneapolis deal with the cruiser Warbird."
"Well, let's start dealing with the station then. Tuvok, target the station. Let's try to get rid of her shields."


The remaining Romulan D'Deridex filled Enterprise's bridge screen. Parker had already noted with satisfaction the progress of the battle while barking firing orders to Jobrie. The ship rocked again from the D'Deridex doing it's best to kill the Enterprise and his display showed his ship's overall shield strength reduced to fifty percent even before Data said a thing about it. That might seem bad but considering the competition...
The D'Deridex was trying to keep up with Hamblin's excellent maneuvering of the colossal Enterprise. She wasn't alone as Intrepid was maneuvering closer to use her own extensive combat load to strike the Romulan capital ship. Avenger was running interference as well, darting in and out to put quantum torpedoes and bursts of phaser fire into the Warbird's dorsal and ventral shields so her shield generators would become overtaxed.
Hamblin seemed to read Parker's mind, because just as Parker prepared to order a hard turn to port, Hamblin cut the port impulse engine, fired the retro-thrusters on that side, and re-routed power to the starboard engine. Enterprise performed a tight turn and presented her port arc to the Warbird. Jobrie swiftly lashed out with her phasers, each array fully recharged now. Stream after stream of ruby fury stabbed the Warbird's failing green shields. The timing was well-played as Avenger had come about. O'Farrell's weapons officer poured the small ship's phaser and torpedo fire into the Warbird's command prow. Adding to the strain was a sudden assault on the Warbird's aft by Intrepid, with her forward weapons. The Warbird's crew responded by twisting away. They actually managed to evade Intrepid's torpedoes and a couple of phaser shots, but it was too late to avoid hull damage. As she began to break away, Avenger fired a quantum torpedo that got through her shields and detonated on the upper bridge linking the command prow to the upper hull. The detonated blew the bridge in half. As Avenger moved away the disruptor mounted on the upper hull fired several times. Half of the shots connected; the last broke through the shields and hit her rear-dorsal hull, tearing some off and destroying the emitters on her cloaking device.
While the wounded Avenger moved away Enterprise finished coming about and the angle was sufficient for Jobrie to get a torpedo lock. A quartet of quantum torpedoes spat out of the forward launcher, followed by two photons out of the secondary launcher. Again her phasers flashed ruby over the faltering green field protecting the Romulan command prow. It fizzled out first, allowing a brief lance of red to spear the Warbird's hull and create a well of red flame. The torpedoes did the most damage however; only one missed directly, a photon torpedo that veered to the right and up and hit the upper hull, blowing through it. The rest created massive explosions along the Romulan's hull. A torpedo from Avenger's rear launcher connected with the top of the bow and it's explosion was close enough to take out the top-mounted disruptor.
She still had her forward-mounted torpedo launcher, which she used to lash out against Enterprise. Another flight of plasma torpedoes smashed into Enterprise's bow shields. But it was not enough to bring them down. Another phaser shot from Jobrie silenced the Romulan torpedo launcher for good and left the ship un-defended; her disruptor cannons had already lost power from so much damage to the ship's internal power grid. The captain of the Romulan ship did what was probably the last thing she could do; her engines fired to the point of near-overload as she began to race toward Enterprise in an attempt to ram. Unfortunately it was clumsy and desperate; Hamblin easily rolled the ship to port and Jobrie fired the ventral phasers while the Warbid flew past. The Warbird's shields were gone and she had no protection from the attack. Ruby spears pierced the Warbird's starboard nacelle and parts of it's outer hull area. Her impulse drives went down now. Intrepid's phasers shot one more time at the crippled Warbird before her captain did the last thing available to her. Explosions began to flower across the Warbird's hull. After about five seconds, she was a collection of drifting metal fragments.
This left the Romulan cruiser to deal with besides the station itself; that was now starting to suffer the ill effects of Coleman's determined bombing runs plus Valiant's own strafing. Already Great Lakes was beginning to ignore the remaining cruiser to direct long-range phaser fire against the station. Parker looked to Data and ordered, "Mister Data, put the Romulan station on screen." The station blipped into appearance. It was a cylindrical station which seemed little more than a gray tube with pins sticking out. This was from a distance, of course; the pins were actually large docking bays and the tube was about a kilometer long and three hundred and ninety meters in diameter. Not an overly impressive facility, easily dwarfed by a Starbase, but still quite large for the Triangle. Her defenses were sufficient too as she was stabbing away at Coleman's fighters and the Valiant with disruptors. Plasma torpedoes struck out at times. One went past the immediate attackers and slammed into the bow shields of the Great Lakes, causing them to flicker. "Mister Hamblin, bring us in toward that station."
Parker immediately looked over his shoulder to Tactical. "Lieutenant, lock on quantum torpedoes and weapons. Prepare to fire. Mister O'Keefe, put me on all frequencies and hail that station."
Jobrie gave a swift affirmation. O'Keefe took a moment at his station before turning. "You're on, Sir."
"This is Captain Adrian Parker of the Starship Enterprise. You fought well but your defenses are hopelessly outmatched now. I ask you to stand down and aid us in our investigation. As you are probably aware of, the Federation ship Equinox disappeared in this area and we are searching for her and her crew. Aid us in this investigation and we may allow this violation of the Imperium's treaty with the Federation and Klingon Empire to go unpunished. I will give you two minutes to stand down before opening fire on your station, so long as you and your cruiser hold your fire during the time period." Parker nodded to O'Keefe. "Signal the other ships and fighters. Back off of the station. If the cruiser and station stop firing, hold fire. And have Colonel Kira ready her Marines for a boarding action." He turned to Larrisa now. "Lieutenant, did you scan that station for non-Romulans yet?"
"I've been trying since we came within range, but the fleet was putting up too much ECM. Now that they're gone, if you move within twenty thousand kilometers I can punch through the station's shields to give it a life form scan."
"Do so. Mister Hamblin, bring us within two hundred klicks."
After twenty-seven seconds of moving toward the station, Larrisa turned from her station. "I'm cutting through the interference, Sir, and there are definitely non-Romulan life forms on the station. All seem to be in one of the lower decks, probably a containment area, but there are three in an upper deck."
"Can you lock on for transport?"
"I'll relay the coordinates to Mister Data's board."
Data watched the information come over his screen. "Relaying information to transporter controls now." He turned in his chair. "Sir, we will have to wait until they lower shields before we can begin beaming people off."
Razmara looked up from her damage report screens. "I thought there were ways to get around shields?"
"For a single transport, it is plausible to attempt to match the reverse frequency wavelength of the shields to send a transport beam through, but it will take at least six transport operations to get every form we are detecting. By the time the second is away I am certain the Romulans would create magnetic fields to block our transporters. Given the Romulan penchant for honor, the attempt would ruin the Captain's attempts at diplomacy."
Parker slipped into his seat to wait. There was half a minute remaining before his deadline. "Mister Data, if you get any sense that they're initiating a self-destruct sequence, begin the beaming process." That order covered the last eventuality.
With ten seconds left to go, Larrisa turned in her chair again. "Sir, I'm reading multiple internal explosions in the last Warbird! She's breaking up!"
"Mister Data, stand by...."
"Sir, the station is lowering it's shields."
"I'm getting a text message, running it through translators.... they're surrendering, Captain."
There were sighs of relief across the bridge. Parker hadn't expected a full surrender, just an agreement to help him. "Okay, Mister Data, alert Security to be ready for any surprises and begin beaming over the non-Romulans. Is Colonel Kira ready yet?"
"She will be shortly."
"Beam her teams straight over to take control of all key facilities on the station and begin copying their computer data." Parker turned his attention to Razmara. "Damage report for all ships?"
"Hood's shields are below fifty percent and she has a single hull breach on her primary deck, nothing major. Avenger's cloaking device has been disabled and her aft shields are not yet restored. Great Lakes reports five hull breaches and shields below twenty-five percent. Minneapolis's warp drive is offline from damage to their port nacelle; they are dispatching damage control teams into EVA conditions to do what patch work they can. Valiant has no hull breaches and her shields are holding at fourty-one percent. Intrepid reports no major damage."
"Ask Captain Berger if his ship needs any assistance in getting his drive back online, I don't want to stay here longer than is necessary."
Razmara nodded and typed in the message, which was transferred via the direct combat link in the squadron. A few moments later she answered, "They're doing all that can be done, according to Captain Berger. Our assistance won't be necessary."
"Send the data down to Commander Dalke anyway, see if he knows any way to get that nacelle fixed and fast."
Parker barely had time to sit down before Phong's voice echoed on the bridge. "Sickbay to Bridge. Captain, we've got the crew. Or at least what's left of them."
"Who's the highest ranking officer?"
"I've talked to a couple of crew, apparently Captain Ransom and Commander Burke were killed, so that leaves Commander Carter. In fact, they just beamed her in..... Sir, you'd better get down here."
Parker exchanged worried glances with Razmara before standing up from his chair and going toward the lift. "Commander Razmara, you have the bridge. Call me if anything happens."
"Aye Sir."
The turbolift doors closed and Parker immediately barked for Deck 9.


The station had ceased rocking long enough that both Carter and Madred recovered and dove for the implant control. Carter had been further away but Madred was larger and slower; they managed to arrive at precisely the same time, clawing at it and wrestling with one another. Carter used her free hand to claw at Madred's face and eyes and his hand was, at the time, with the other one reaching for the control. Madred brought it back and gripped Carter's left wrist while her fingers pushed into his eyes, both growling at one another. He applied pressure, causing Carter to shriek from the pain in her wrist, and slowly forced the hand off. His grip actually broke Carter's wrist at this point and the shriek in her throat became a full scream.
Both of their free hands touched the control at the same time. They did as much as they could in their positions to wrestle for it. Madred was the first to try and break the deadlock in another fashion. He used his fingers to push the remote a little further away and then brought his other hand back into the fight. He slapped Carter across the face hard, drawing blood from her nose and lips. Then he punched her, hitting her in the right temple and eye. Her eye shut closed from the pain shooting through it, leaving Carter half-blind as she tried in vain to bring the other hand back to oppose Madred. The next punch landed in her gut, causing Carter to curl up into a fetal position while she screamed. It was in this moment that the spring of energy created by her rage subsided. Carter stopped resisting while Madred punched her a few more times, one pair of punches cracking two of her left ribs and the other rupturing her stomach on the inside. Content that Carter had lost her fighting will, Madred crawled away from her and scrambled to his feet. He scooped up the control triumphantly before standing up completely. For a moment he looked over Carter, broken and bleeding as she was, before setting the control to her implant and turning it on. What little energy she had left was expended in screams. She writhed about on the floor and was once again completely at his mercy. "Well, that took the fight out of you, didn't it? I must admit I never expected you to do that. I've never had a prisoner attack me successfully before. I suppose I should have kept those Rihannsu guards after all."
"BASTARD!!!"
"Screaming epitaphs at me isn't going to get you anything, Commander. In fact, I don't think there's anything I want from you anymore. Since you're such a rabid animal, I'm going to treat you like one and put you down." He turned the machine up to maximum. Carter tried to do something, but even the screaming no longer worked. The pain built up within her until she thought her body would explode. She couldn't even scream now. She began to suffocate.
The machine turned down and Carter could once again scream. "But how about I allow you a sporting chance. How many lights are there, Commander?"
"Three!" Carter screamed.
"Only two more chances, Commander, and then I put you down. How many lights are there?"
It took Carter a short time to stop screaming long enough to answer "Three!" again. Then it was back to the wailing.
"One more chance." Madred knelt beside her, grabbing a handful of her red hair and pointing her to the lights at his desk. "Do you know what I'll do after you die, Commander Carter? I will have my fun with Jadzia. And then when she has mercifully expired, I'll take the rest of your crew. How about Ensign Masters? I can only imagine what the implant will do to her unborn child."
"You evil bastard," muttered Carter.
"How many lights are there, Commander?"
Through the pain, Carter could barely thing. She didn't care about death anymore.
But her crew! They didn't deserve to suffer because of what she did! She attacked Madred; she had to take responsibility for it!
But she couldn't give in to this man. They were all Starfleet; it was their duty to suffer for the Federation if it came to that.
But Rose Masters was having a baby! It didn't ask for this, it never joined Starfleet!
"How many lights are there, Commander?!"
Carter was about to speak when someone else made the decision for her.
The door swished open and Madred turned to face four grim-faced Romulans. Two were men and two were women from what Carter could tell; all seemed quite young, which meant they could be anywhere from their thirties to their nineties. They spoke to Madred in their native language, which Carter could not understand without a universal translator programmed in Rihannsu. Madred seemed like somone had kicked him. His words she could understand. "The Federation? Here? But you said they'd never find us!"
Carter's heart nearly leaped out of her chest. Rescue! She had never dared hope of rescue.
The Romulans spoke again, prompting a frantic reply from Madred. "No, you can't surrender. I can't return to Cardassia, do you know what they'll...."
And then realization dawned upon him in the moment it took one of the Romulans to lift her disruptor pistol. Madred didn't have a chance to say anything before the weapon fired and he disappeared in a cloud of green vapor.
The control mechanism had been in his hand. The disruptor energy had not vaporized it completely, but it had destroyed the internals of the control. The implant inside Carter turned off, without a signal to tell it what to do, and it began to dissolve. She moaned loudly and curled into a fetal position on the ground. Her body refused to move. The pain in her body from where Madred had struck her still existed, and was worse now without the implant to reduce it to background noise in her overtaxed nervous system. One of the Romulans, a woman, walked up to her and looked down at her. There was some measure of pity in that stern expression that Carter could see. The woman muttered a phrase in her home language at Carter and then looked to her compatriots. Each pulled out a small flash of reddish liquid and took a swig. Carter watched through a haze of pain as they convulsed and dropped to the floor, dead.
For several seconds more, Carter remained on the floor. Then a familiar tingle filled her, and for the first time in days Carter felt peace as the transporter on the Enterprise whisked her away from Hell itself.


Parker entered Sickbay's starboard door to find the medical personnel milling about, tending to the wounded of Equinox's crew. He waded through the assorted "blueshirts" toward Dr. Nguyen's office. On the other side he found a secluded medical bay where Phong was busy examining a young Trill woman seated on the bed. She had a blanket draped around her and as Parker walked up beside them he saw that she was in pretty bad shape. Phong was checking her over with a scanner and gently told her to lie down. While she did, he took out a hypospray and pressed it against her neck in the middle of her spotline. She closed her eyes and seemed to settle into sleep. "Doctor?"
"Her name is Jadzia Farrelis. She was science officer on the Equinox." Phong tapped the side of his neck. "She's got something around here. It's starting to disintegrate so I'm going to have to remove it quickly, but the damage to her nervous system indicates neuro-torture." Though he seemed unflappable, there was an edge to Phong's voice, the kind of anger at deliberately-applied pain that only a doctor could possess. "Commander Carter is in the other room. She's got it even worse. We found traces of drugs in her system; the names I'm not going to bother pronouncing. They inhibit nerve signals, creating a sense of sensory deprivation. They also inhibit the chemicals that induce sleep."
"More torture?"
"Yes." Phong let him to the door, where Carter was seated on a bed having a swollen eye checked over by a dark-skinned human nurse. "She's your's for the next ten or so minutes, then I have to take her into surgery to repair her stomach lining. She got one hell of a beating."
"I won't be too long." Parker walked into the room and waited patiently while the nurse finished patching Carter's broken nose and her swollen eye. Even with the dermal regenerators at work, Carter still had a nasty splotch of dark blue around her right eye and temple and a similar bruised area around her nose. The nurse stepped away and left the room, causing Carter to look toward the door and see Parker standing nearby. "Hello, Commander Carter."
"Captain Parker now, I see." Carter managed a weak grin. "You look like you're doing good for yourself. Command of the Enterprise?"
"They dropped it in my lap after that business with the Orions." Parker walked over to a chair and brought it up to the bed, sitting in it. "So what happened?"
"They had a Cardassian with them. The Cardassian, you might say. Gul Madred."
Parker could only nod. Madred was notorious in the Alpha Quadrant for being one of Cardassia's most proficient "interrogators"; he was wanted for war crimes against Bajoran and Federation prisoners-of-war and had escaped Cardassia when the Central Command made peace with the Federation. "And what happened to him?"
"Some Romulans vaporized him just before they killed themselves, and then you beamed us over." Carter looked down at the floor. "It's starting to become some bad dream. I mean, it's all a blur."
"Well...." Parker wanted to say something more but couldn't. "I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner."
"Yeah. So am I." Carter's voice was cold and emotionless. Her eyes seemed dazed and confused. "It's just... I felt all of that pain and I...." She looked to Parker. "Sir, how's Jadz, er, Lieutenant Farrelis?"
"She'll survive. You certainly took the worst of what he dished out."
"Yeah...." Carter stared at the ceiling now. She thought very briefly about whether she should tell Parker about Jadzia, but thought better of it. It wasn't her place. "She wasn't trained for it, Captain. She... she wasn't ready. I knew what he was going to do the moment I saw him, but she... poor Jadzia."
"You'll both get a debriefing and I'll pull every string I've got to get you the best therapy." Parker looked away from her. "The posting on the Enterprise will still be here when you're ready."
"Thank you." Carter stopped speaking for a long moment. "I didn't think I'd make it, to be honest. There were times I just thought of giving up. Especially when Madred starting using Jadzia against me. I looked at her and saw just how badly she was doing..."
"It's all in the past now." Parker stood up in front of her. "Doctor Nguyen is going to take you into surgery. I'll let you go."
Parker stood up to walk away. As he reached the door Carter looked over at him and spoke out. "They weren't all bad, Captain. Madred murdered one of my guards for giving me a drink."
Parker stopped and turned back half-way. "I'm not surprised. The Rihan... the Romulans can be brutal when provoked, but when they see no reason for it most would be like a Human or any other race in watching atrocity."
"When they killed Madred, one of the Romulans said something to me." Carter thought back for a moment and made a sufficient, if not perfect, approximation of the term. "I wonder what it means."
Parker drew in a sigh. He did not speak fluent Rihannsu but it was a term he'd recognized from LoBrutto's glossary of Rihannsu phrases. "It was an apology, Commander. A particular one meant to express regret for dishonor. The Romulan who said it to you probably harbored private regrets for aiding Madred and turning you over to him. He, or she, was driven by mnhei'sahe to apologize to you."
"Mnhei'sahe?"
"The Romulan concept of...."
A beep sounded in the air. "Bridge to Captain Parker," said a female voice that Parker immediately recognized as Razmara's. He tapped his commbadge and Razmara wasted no time in continuing. "Please return to the Bridge immediately. There are more Romulans inbound."
Carter nodded at him, mostly to appease any guilt he might feel at leaving her in mid-sentence. Parker nodded back and went through the door. "Commander, I'm on my way!"

...Wow.

You just kept me up to 2:41 on a school night. So, DAAAMN. That's good stuff. Write more and this time i'll makesure to start reading before 12:00 am...

Yee-FUCKING-ha.

Good to see Madred get iced, no regrets there.

Lots of kudos for Carter, damn that woman's tough.

And a FUCKING AWESOME BATTLE! Dammit, why couldn't Nemesis have been like this?! Fucking A, Steve. A full-blown Fucking A.

Good Rihannsu portrayal too.

wow.......
great work. especially with Madred.

Sweet set up for later material.

Cool battle all around.

Fucking Romulan bastards... hurt my poor widdo' ship... *grumble grumble* Hell ta' pay...

Excellent battle, Steve.

And Ice: bah, you got your ship messed up, I have to fix all these poor people

phongn wrote:Excellent battle, Steve.

And Ice: bah, you got your ship messed up, I have to fix all these poor people

Yeah, but you don't have to write the "I regret to inform..." letters to the parents of all the crewers who got killed.

Parker didn't even need to demand a report when he stepped on the bridge. Razmara was waiting. "Twenty contacts, including four D'Deridex Warbirds and a Kerchan. They are at full combat alert and will be in firing range in around five minutes."
"How is Minneapolis' repairs coming?"
"Still half an hour from restored warp, Sir."
Parker slipped into his chair. "Signal Valiant. Order her to cloak and retreat to Federation space for help. I want the entire force ready to run the instant Minneapolis brings her warp back online."
Razmara waited for O'Keefe to finish transmitting orders before asking, "We're not going to fight them, are we?"
"Not if I can help it." Parker waited for a moment and then stood again. "Mister O'Keefe, open hailing frequencies."
"Yes Captain."
Ten tense seconds passed before O'Keefe turned once more. "That Kerchan is responding, Captain. She identifies herself as the Battlequeen. Shall I put them on the screen?"
"Go ahead, Mister." Parker waited for the screen to shift. What appeared was a Romulan officer, proudly wearing the scarlet red tunic and black robe of his fleet. He seemed older, about a hundred and fifty or so years of age for his race. "I am Commander-General tr'Malak, Imperial Warbird Battlequeen."
"Captain Parker, Federation Starship Enterprise."
"Well, Captain, I have a very interesting sight on my sensors. Perhaps you would care to explain why your ships are lingering about the remains of several Romulan ships?"
"We have good reason to believe that these ships attacked the Starship Equinox as she was passing through this region, Commander-General."
"And that good reason would be?"
"We found her surviving crew in the holding bays of the station that should be appearing on your sensor screens now." Parker maintained a stiff posture, trying to read the Romulan as he continued to speak. "Considering that by treaty the Romulan government, like our's, is forbidden from having such facilities in the Triangle, we assumed that they were pirates."
"I do not know what the treaty says about stations in the Triangle, Captain, but I do know what I see; the remains of ten Romulan ships and a Romulan facility seized by a Federation task force which itself is violating our treaty." Tr'Malak's expression was dangerously cold. "This does not bode well at all for you, Captain Parker."
"If it's not a pirate base, Commander-General, would it not make it a base operated by the Romulan government in violation of treaty? A treaty signed between Earth and ch'Rihan in good faith."
"Perhaps they are pirates, Captain. If so, that is why they should be left for us to punish, instead of the Federation taking it upon itself to act."
"We had missing people, Commander-General. Would you abandon your's to pirates?"
Parker watched tr'Malak consider the point for a few moments. "No, we would not."
"Indeed, would you not agree that we had an obligation to our comrades to recover them? Our's was an honorable purpose. Mnhei'sahe." Parker noticed a very intrigued expression appear on tr'Malak's face. "Surely you are here to investigate the pirates on your own, to protect the honor of the Empire?"
"Perhaps so."
"Then let us help you fulfill mnhei'sahe on your end. We have taken prisoners from the station and prevented the pirates from wiping their computer cores. We will turn everything over to you, Commander-General, if you allow us to finish our repairs and return to Federation space with Equinox's crew." Parker stepped closer to the screen. "That way you will have the chance to punish those who have brought dishonor to the Empire and we will have recovered our people. Then we can say that we both fulfilled our obligations to the honor of both the Federation and the Empire."
There was a short pause. During that pause, tr'Malak's task force came out of warp within firing range of the Enterprise and her ships. The pause became tense as the entire bridge crew on Enterprise seemed to anticipate a battle.
So it was with great relief to the rest when tr'Malak looked offscreen and barked orders that led Larrisa to calmly report, "The Romulan ships are powering down their weapons." She could barely believe the coolness in her voice, considering the sweat that was gathering on her.
"Thank you, Commander-General. I'll have my Marines pull off the station at once, and we will begin transmitting all data we have gathered."
There was a brisk nod from tr'Malak. "I will take over from here. We thank you and the Federation for your cooperation in these matters and naturally we will help protect your squadron while you regain warp capability." An amused grin crossed tr'Malak's face. "I never imagined I would see the day when a Terran invoked mnhei'sahe and actually understood what it means. I'll make sure to remember you, Captain Parker of the Enterprise. You are a very dangerous man. Honorable, but dangerous."
"Thank you for the compliment, Commander-General. Enterprise out." Parker turned and nodded to O'Keefe. "Signal the other ships to stand down from Red Alert and power down all weapons."
Razmara didn't seem pleased at first. "Sir, are you sure we can trust them?"
"Implicitly. Tr'Malak is not going to open fire on us now, not when he's getting what he wants. Besides, it would be dishonorable to attack us now, and tr'Malak is old school Rihannsu." Parker walked up to his seat and looked back to Data. "Mister Data, begin transferring all of the data we've gleaned from the station's computers and recover the Marines we've sent to the station so far. As soon as the Romulans secure the space station, beam whatever prisoners we took back over. Mister O'Keefe, signal Valiant and tell her to hold position until we get there." Parker turned his chair to Larrisa. "Lieutenant, scan the debris from the destroyed ships. If you detect Romulan life signs anywhere, relay the information to Battlequeen."
"Aye Captain."
Razmara shook her head while Parker settled into his chair. "Admiral Pressman's not going to like you handing over all of that intel to the Romulans."
"My mission here was to recover the surviving crew of the Equinox, and I did that." Parker crossed his arms and considered the look on Pressman's face. "Oh, he'll be mad about not getting it, but we accomplished the mission and avoided a war with the Romulans. Tr'Malak's going to go home and tell everyone about how courteous and understanding the Federation was here and it's going to help matters more than hinder them."
"Avoiding a war with the Romulans might not have been very high on Pressman's list of priorities," Razmara remarked. "Sometimes I'd wager that the exact opposite is rather high instead."
"Well, there will be no war here, and that's what I'm going to drink to tonight."


System R4425 was a cluttered system of a dozen planets, all uninhabitable, and the last eight all being gas giants. It was why the rogue Romulans had chosen the system in the first place; all of the gas giants, plus the star itself, would hide their station from long range scanners thanks to the gravity wells they projected.
But what the Romulans could use to hide could be used by others.
It orbited R4425 VIII; a small ship, black as death, hidden in the stars. The Romulans and Federation could not detect her, for the eighth planet was a particularly large and dense gas giant with a very effective gravity well. From afar it watched, having observed the battle and now the tell-tale signals as the Federation ships spoke with the Romulan ones. Minutes passed and there were signs of heavy transporter activity and data transfer. After about half an hour, the Federation ships warped out in unison, leaving the Romulans alone.
The purpose of the ship's presence was finished. It turned away silently. A shimmer appeared around it and it swiftly faded away into nothingness, as if it had not even been there.


Captain's Log 21 May 2368 13:06 GST: We have completed functionary repairs to Minneapolis' warp drive and are underway to return to Earth; given our engineers' concerns about straining our drives, we are cruising at Warp 8.5 and our ETA to Earth is the morning of the 23rd. Minneapolis will not be with us; she is going to stop over at Starbase 11 for repairs so that she can manage something faster than Warp 4. We offered to follow her in but Captain Berger insisted we head straight home and that his ship could care for herself. He can be a very stubborn man.
The Equinox crew is mostly in fine shape. At least eighty out of a hundred and thirty survived the attack and wounds brought about by it. On the request of their medical officers I have entered into my logs, for transmission back to Battlequeen, note that the Romulan medical staff saved several lives that would have otherwise been lost.
I am more concerned with what occurred to Commander Carter and Lieutenant Farrelis. Their preliminary debriefing with Commander Razmara and Commander Data was emotional to say the least. They can rest easier knowing Madred is dead, I suppose, but I know I would have loved to throw the man out of an airlock myself.
On a final note; my crew came through the fire unscathed, and I'm thankful for that. Given time, I think the Enterprise will live up to her name. I'll see to that myself.


Parker was seated in the ship's lounge reading over the ship's after-action report on a remote-linked PADD. Before him was a simple dinner, or rather what was left; a few leftover French fries and a barely a crumb of the quarter pound cheeseburger that Arno had replicated for him. It hadn't been very good, edible but without substantial flavor. Though replicator food was the staple of the Starfleet diet, there were times Parker couldn't wait to get planetbound to have a nice, juicy burger straight off the grill of some small North American diner.
Parker looked up from the report to order another soda from Arno and saw Carter and Jadzia seated at the bar speaking with him. He served them up drinks and they began to talk to one another. Not being one to listen in, Parker turned his attention back to the PADD.
A short time later he heard a voice right beside him. "Captain, may I?" Data put a hand on the table seat opposite of Parker's. He nodded and set the PADD down while Data slid into the seat. "I have finished compiling the operations segment of the after-action report, Sir."
"Very good, Commander," Parker replied dryly. "Did you send it to Commander Razmara?"
"She is going over it now."
Parker nodded and picked up one of his last fries. It tasted cold and mushy so he quickly swallowed it. "You've done well so far, Mister Data."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Need anything to eat or drink?"
"I do not require sustenance, Sir. My internal power supply operates..." Data stopped when Parker raised his hand. After a moment he stated, "No thank you, Sir."
"Very good, Mister Data. But, I think the others will feel a little better if you at least pretend to go along with it, hmm?"
"In what way, sir?"
Parker rubbed his temples to dull the headache forming there. "Pretend to eat or drink with the rest of us. At staff meetings and such."
"Well, I was built with systems to ingest and process material. I suppose I can, if you desire it, Captain."
"I do desire it."
Data nodded to indicate compliance in the future. He looked to the bar where Carter was now apparently comforting Jadzia, with a hand on her shoulder and their faces close to one another. "Commander Razmara seemed disturbed when we were conducting the preliminary debriefing with Commander Carter and Lieutenant Farrelis, Captain."
"I'm not surprised. Something very disturbing and sick happened to them."
"Yes. Most records of the career of Gul Madred state him as being very uncaring for the suffering of other beings." Data looked out the window at the streaks of light racing by the ship. "Given that I cannot feel physical pain and have no emotion, I am unable to sympathize with them despite my attempts to do so. Is that wrong of me, Sir?"
Parker sighed and shook his head. "At least you put forward the effort, Data, and you have a good excuse. That's more than we can say of Gul Madred."
The android nodded in acceptance of Parker's point. "Sir, have you read the debriefing report yet?"
"Not while eating." Parker pointed to his plate. "I was going to do it tonight, and only after finishing that bottle of Pacifican whiskey I have in my nightstand."
"Ah."
"Was there anything you wished to discuss about the debriefing, Mister Data?"
There was no immediate response from Data. He looked once more to the bar, where Arno had walked up once more to talk with Carter and Jadzia. "Lieutenant Farrelis reported that when Madred came in this morning, before we arrived, he resumed torturing her for the purpose of confirming the number of lights he had turned on. When she spoke the proper number, three, he would turn up the implant's power level and demand that she answer untruthfully with 'four'. Finally, when the pain became too great, she replied as he desired. I do not understand the significance. It is irrelevant to any useful intelligence that the Lieutenant could have provided to Madred."
And now Parker wished he had that whiskey in his hand. He motioned to a crewman working with Arno and asked for a bottle of sweetened vodka from New Russia. While the enlisted man went to fetch the bottle and a glass, Parker looked back to Data. "Well, I'm no expert, Commander, but the answer is pretty obvious. Men like Madred do not just extract information with pain. They break down the will of their victims so that their victims are submissive to them. That was what the entire issue of the lights was about. It was a method of breaking the will."
"Curious." Data blinked. "I will have to note that point for further study. Captain, what will become of Lieutenant Farrelis? If her will was broken, would that not hinder her abilities to function as a Starfleet officer?"
"Well, Commander, we have to remember that she was not a Command level officer and did not receive Advanced Survival training, so she didn't know how to properly resist torture. Still, she's never going to see a line command. She'll likely spend the rest of her career as a science officer, probably on stations, planetside posts, or perhaps explorer and science ships. Because her will has been broken and that never goes away." Parker clenched his fist and slammed it on the table. "Damned bastard destroyed that girl's life. If he weren't dead I'd want to toss him out the airlock myself."
The crewman returned with a small glass and a bottle of clear vodka. Parker screwed off the top and poured a little bit into his glass before putting the top back on. Data was closely observing the activities at the bar while Parker drank his first gulp. There was a sweet tint to the vodka, a diluted honey-like taste, when he swallowed it; afterward was the usual burning sensation of alcohol going into the stomach. When he finished swallowing, Parker asked, "So, Mister Data, what are you thinking about right now?"
"I am observing Commander Carter and Lieutenant Farrelis, analyzing the collected works of Hegel and Marx to establish philosophical similarity and comparing their predictions to historical fact, calculating the course changes the ship is currently making, and...." Data stopped when Parker let out an amused whistle. "Sir?"
"Mister Data, do you always multitask like that?"
"I do, Sir."
"Well, keep at it then." Parker took another drink. "Wouldn't want you to stop on my account."
"Very well, Sir. Would you like me to give you a report on my findings?"
"Oh, it won't be necessary." Parker took the last sip of his drink and poured a little more. And just a little more; already Parker felt the familiar slowing of thought that alcohol caused him. "That's not my particular field."
"Oh." Data watched Parker pick up his PADD again. "Sir, is there anything else you require?"
"Not at all, Mister Data. Go back to your business."
"Yes, Sir." Data walked away briskly with the unnaturally-straight posture that Parker had taken to noticing.
Parker turned back to the PADD and continued reading. He managed about two paragraphs before his commbadge chirped. "Bridge to Captain Parker." He tapped it and sighed before replying to O'Keefe with, "Parker here."
"Sir, I've got Admiral Pressman on subspace for you."
I knew this was going to happen before the day was out. "Okay. Patch him into my quarters, I'll be right there."


Parker was very gratified that he had diluted his nerves with vodka when the screen at his desk slid up and Pressman's face appeared. "Captain Parker, I hear you've recovered the Equinox crew. Good job."
"Thank you sir." Well, that was it; the initial show of gratitude for the accomplished mission. Now came the chewing out part. "Anything else?"
"Yes, Captain." Pressman's expression soured. "Why in the Hell did you hand over to the Romulans what was certainly crucial intelligence data?!"
Parker drew in a breath before replying. "Well, Sir, we couldn't just escape. Minneapolis' warp drive was disabled and at the time she was half an hour from warp capability. Towing her at escape warp speeds would have been impossible. And the Romulans outnumbered us almost three to one while we already had battle damage from the first fight. The odds were against us so I had to take that approach. And as you can see, it worked, and I'm certain that it'll improve our relations with the Romulans in the long run."
For a few minutes, Pressman seemed to digest Parker's defense carefully. "The records, as they appear, do bear you out, Captain. And you did recover Equinox's crew. But I promise you, Parker, that the next time you do something like this without an Admiral's consent, I will drag you into a court-martial! Do you understand me?"
Parker's jaw was firm when he replied, "Crystal clear, Sir."
"Good. Pressman out."
And that was that. Pressman's image was replaced by the symbol of Starfleet Intelligence; the usual arrowhead with an eight-pointed red star centered in the middle. Parker waited until the image disappeared and his monitor defaulted to his login screen. He brought out the keyboard on his desk and typed in his ID and password to unlock his command files. As he expected, Razmara had sent the rest of the after-action report for his approval and signature. He began to read it over despite the headache forming in his forehead.


Pressman watched Parker disappear from his screen. His leaned back in his chair and took in a breath. Now he began to wonder if Parker was such a good choice for the Enterprise's chair; he was a little too independent-minded.
Then again, that's why he was such a good starship captain.
"Looks like we lost our chance," he murmured.
The figure standing in the corner of his room turned around from examining Pressman's scale models of his prior commands. The rather darkly-dressed man gave off an air of mystique and shadow; he clearly did not like being in the open. "Others will present themselves, Admiral. At least this way the Romulans will not be on to our plans. Parker has done a good job of continuating their perception that the Federation will avoid war."
"Your ship did pretty good to go undetected," Pressman said to the man. "It got the entire battle?"
"Yes. It's very good data on Romulan tactics and weapons. Your analysts will be receiving their copies shortly."
"Good news, then." Pressman stood up and walked over to his coffee-maker. There was a replicator nearby but he found the "real thing" preferable. "Might I offer you something?"
"Thank you for the offer, but I'm fine." The man walked up to the side of Pressman's desk while he poured some of the coffee into a cup. "Admiral, what will you do next?"
"Nothing for the moment. The diplomats will sort out any leftover quibbles. Knowing the Administration's touchyness about conflict, they'll lie and say it was pirates, and that it was a joint effort between Starfleet and the Romulans to drive them out. The idealists will proclaim it a victory for galactic brotherhood." The tone to Pressman's voice was full of scorn and disgust. "Those of us who know better will go back to preparing for the future."
"Indeed."
"You know as well as I do that this was just the beginning. They tried this a hundred years ago too. It's apparently the same faction, or at least their relatives. Tr'Illialhlae, t'Kiell, t'Anierh, tr'Annhwi, the names read right out of the reports from the Second Romulan War. They're coming into power again in the Praetorate and the Senate." Pressman thumped a fist on his desk. "This time, I will make sure the Federation is far better prepared than it was a hundred years ago."
"A patriotic sentiment, Admiral."
"And now we're back to waiting." Pressman sipped at his coffee and returned to his chair. "Waiting for the Romulans to slip up."
"That we are." The man nodded. "Admiral, I will be leaving now. I have other business to attend to. I'll see you later."
Pressman nodded and watched the man leave his office. He sipped on his coffee for a short while before he called up the intelligence reports that had crossed his desk that day.


There were certain things that commanders and leaders were supposed to do. That, at least, was what Marina Lenarova believed and had believed since very early in her life. After spending the earlier portions of the day overseeing aspects of the ship's repair and meeting with the department heads to prepare Great Lakes' after-action report, she fulfilled one of those obligations by stepping into her ship's sickbay for the purpose of visiting the wounded.
Great Lakes had a crew of about two hundred and she made it her business to know each and every one of them by name and they, naturally, all knew her. Upon entry into sickbay she found every man and woman present standing at attention or trying too. They had little time to do so, as she quickly ordered them to be at ease. And naturally they responded immediately by relaxing and returning to whatever it was they were doing, reassured by her presence.
Most of the wounded were engineering and damage control crew who had been hit something after being knocked off their feet during hits or, in a few severe cases, been wounded by shattered bulkheads or debris from the hull hits that Lakes had suffered in the battle. A number of wounded were from the rupturing of a plasma conduit caused by Romulan fire near the end of the battle.
Marina was finishing a brief conversation with a young enlisted man from Bajor, trying not to look too hard at the plasma burns that covered part of his chest and left hip, when her CMO left her office. Dr. Allyn was one of "the two 'Chelles" as most crew knew them; she was Michelle and her wife was Lieutenant Rochelle Allyn, the ship's sensor officer. Their marriage had been the first of three that Marina had performed as commanding officer of the Great Lakes, an ironic coincidence to Marina considering her own preference. For her own part, Michelle had managed to maintain a nice and slim build, with brown hair rolled up into buns and equally-brown eyes. Marina already knew the reason Michelle was approaching her, as it was the only reason she'd come. Neither woman spoke a word while walking into the ship's morgue.
Marina felt some relief at only seeing two sheet-covered bodies on the slabs. It was unfair, of course, but it could have been worse. She was saddened, however, when Allyn lifted up one of the sheets and revealed the paled face of Senior Chief Rachel Corwin. To see those thick lips now turned blue was depressing enough; Marina felt an intense pain from knowing that her crew had lost the one person they all looked up to. Even the officers had respected Chief Corwin's views and opinions, as she was about eight years Marina's senior in age and an honored veteran of Starfleet. They would not be the only ones to suffer from this loss; Rachel had been a mother of four children and had a husband who was a civilian architect working in Chicago. Her eldest child, a son, was working with his father as an architect; her next two oldest, a daughter and a son, were in Starfleet Academy, and the last Marina heard from Chief Corwin was that the youngest, another son, intended to join the Starfleet Marines next year when he turned 18.
Marina waited for Doctor Allyn to reveal the other dead crew member; the continuing noise of the sickbay became an oddly great irritant in those heavy seconds. This one was also a loss that would be missed; Ensign Kiska Karro, a Bajoran serving as an engineer and a victim of the port plasma conduit that the Romulans managed to rupture in the last minutes of the battle. Half of his face and body was burned beyond repair. He had started out as an enlisted man on the crew and made commissioned officer after several exemplary acts in previous skirmishes with the Klingons the past year. Marina recalled the man's courage and will and his own personal pain; his wife had been brutally raped and murdered by the withdrawing Cardassians during the final days of the Occupation. He still had a daughter, LoMarr, who was about fifteen... and now an orphan. In this case, Marina would do as she had always done; go to the Bank of the Federation and establish a fund for young LoMarr's future education and ask the crew to contribute to it. Though there were organizations established for this purpose, to Marina it was an issue of obligation and honor to lost comrades and her crew, like her, never shunned away from giving what they could.
When they were done, she followed Michelle to her office for a drink. Though not a coffee person, she graciously accepted the Columbian stuff that Michelle offered from her pot. "Two dead, twenty-three wounded," Michelle recounted for her. "Four will be out of action for most of the next year and another four will probably spend the next month or two in therapy."
"It could have been worse."
"Probably, but I don't think Rod Corwin and his kids or Kiska LoMarr will feel very assured by that."
Touchè, Michelle. "Of course. But we all have our duties." Marina stared into the black liquid in her cup for a few moments, and into a strangely comforting silence. "We all know that our next battle could be our last. You know, 'Chelle, that I'd rather they were alive."
"Of course."
Immediately the subject changed. Marina and Michelle spent about ten minutes with what might call "girl talk". Michelle naturally asked her elder for advice in her own relationship troubles with Rochelle - these things happened in all couples, after all - and Marina did her best to answer well. Through the entire conversation, Marina noticed Michelle was periodically looking at her monitor and sifting through data. Finally, she asked what it was. "Data from Doctor Nguyen on the Enterprise," Michelle answered. "He sent it to all of us to get our input."
"What is the issue?"
"A new Romulan-designed torture device," she replied. "He found remnants of it in the bodies of two of the recovered Equinox crew. It's a nasty little thing. Composed entirely of common biological elements so it can dissolve and disappear into the body, leaving no trace of it's presence. Even their nervous systems healed quickly from the damage it caused. It's designed, I'd say, to inflict maximum pain on someone with minimal damage, and to leave no evidence that the deed was ever done."
"Evil." Marina did think about it for a bit; like Parker she had studied the Romulans - the Rihannsu - and knew of their culture and manner. "Not the kind of thing that their judiciary interrogators would employ?"
"Maybe the first part, but why leave no trace? This is... something else." Michelle sipped at her coffee. "Something else entirely."
"I'm certain Starfleet Medical will be interested in reviewing it's effects. If this thing gets on the black market I suspect it will make a very nasty slave-control mechanism. And the Klingons will love it." There was a hint of anger in those blue eyes that Michelle recognized easily as Marina's well-refined moral outrage. Few invoked it as frequently, or as strongly, as Klingons. Their allies were also pretty high on the list, since Marina was by nature a feminist and the Ferengi were noted misogynists.
Michelle, for her part, did not reply, but went back to sipping coffee and reading the data. Marina, after finishing her own - such was courtesy, after all - excused herself and left sickbay. There were, after all, other things to do before she could retire to her room until her next bridge watch.


U.S.S. Hood, Sol System, Sector 001
23 May 2368


The veteran warhorse Hood was one of the lead ships in the Enterprise's squadron formation, on the venerable ship's left flank, when they came out of warp near the Moon. Hood stood out among the other newer ships, considering she was over forty years old, which was perfectly fine to Captain Irvine as she proved that you didn't need to be brand new to be effective.
Hood's bridge layout was a classic one. Helm/Navigation and Weapons at the two-chaired console in front of the captain's seat, Communications behind the Captain and to his left, Engineering and Sensors to his right. At the helm was Ensign Meriweather, a petite young Englishwoman only a year out of the Academy. Beside her sat a Bajoran, Lt. (Senior Grade) Renel Sakal. Rosaline was in the chair to Drake's right, her usual position. Back at Operations sat Lt. Cmdr. Achmed al-Hassad, Drake's Operations Officer. An Omani and practicing Sunni Muslim, he spoke excellent English with a definitive Arabic accent.
At Communications sat a young Chinese woman, Lt. S.G. Me-Ai Kim. She turned to Drake and Rosaline and informed him that McKinley was ordering them to standby for clearance to dock. "Ensign, bring us to full relative stop with McKinley."
"Yes Commander." Meriweather's hands pulled back the slide controls to zero, cutting off Hood's engines. She moved her attention to the thruster controls, using them to maintain Hood's relative position to McKinley.
After a few moments, Rosaline finally broke the silence. "Another successful mission, oui Capitaine?"
"Indeed, Commander." Drake put his hands together. "And we're quite fortunate that Leyton picked Parker and not one of Pressman's people. They undoubtedly would have gotten us all killed facing those Romulans."
"You seem troubled, Capitaine."
"I am." Drake stared at the viewscreen, watching civilian craft whiz in front of the majestic Hood. Enterprise's engines fired; she had been cleared for docking. A few moments later Valiant's engines came to life. "Romulan pirates with that much backing does not suit me well. Because the question must now be asked... who is backing them?"
"You don't think they were on their own, Sir?" asked al-Hassad.
"No, I do not. A station like that, and ten warships of those sizes? They had to get the material to support them from somewhere." Drake crossed his arms. "There are a number of possibilities and none of them are good."
"Captain, McKinley is signaling." Kim turned again from her station. "We are clear to begin docking procedures through Entryway Beta, Dock 23."
"Mister Meriweather, one quarter impulse power until we enter the Entryway."
"Yes Sir." Meriweather's fingers slid up the appropriate sliders to fire Hood's impulse engines. One hand began to direct the ship's maneuvers with the engine control.
"When we get into dock, have Commander Engasser deliver a list of his needed parts and repair team man-hours to me." Drake stood up and walked toward his ready room. "Commander, you have the bridge." Inside his ready room, Drake kept a small bookshelf of books mostly relating to naval history and mathematics, considering his family's traditional occupation was in that field. He eased into the seat behind the desk and began writing a log out. By the time it was finished he could feel the vibration through the Hood as it was latched onto by docking clamps.
Drake's monitor beeped. An incoming transmission was being routed to him. He showed no surprise when Marina's face flashed onto his screen. She was in her private quarters and still in uniform. Undoubtedly she was calling to arrange dinner or some such so they could continue their intellectual discussions face-to-face. "Good day, Marina. Docking now?"
"We're in Dock 32," Marina confirmed.
"So, where shall we meet tonight? I recently had the time to read over a translation of Herzok's 'History of the Ancient Andorian Kings', and it's just as good as you promised."
She shook her head. "Sometime later, I think. Arik might wish to join you tonight, but as soon as I sign all of my forms and arrange a dock watch, I will be going planetside to see Valentyna."
Drake nodded in understanding. "I see. I hope you and Miss Lahenza have a happy reunion."
"Thank you, Drake." A smile curled on Marina's face. "I'll be sure to go over Herzok with you when I return Monday."
"Excellent. Good day, then."
"Good day."
They terminated the link almost simultaneously. Drake brought up his logs again to give them a once-over before transmitting them to the Starfleet Archives.


Starbase 11, Sector 011, Federation Space
23 May 2368 Earth Standard Time


Minneapolis had berthed in one of the repair docks in Starbase 11 upon arrival the previous night. The station's trained work crews had already been given the list of needed repairs, parts, and materials when they arrived and work had commenced immediately. The crew had immediately stood down from the usual watches, going into the less frequent dock watches that increased their private time by a great deal.
Zaharia had spent the night watch directing repairs from main engineering. The patch work done in the Triangle had been a temporary fix and actually increased the time needed to do full repairs, since they had to remove said patch work to begin reconstruction of the nacelle housing. There were also other hull breaches to fix and a shield generator to replace. All things considered, they'd be in dock for the next week and a half before they could join back up with the others at Earth.
It was 0700 when Zaharia stumbled into her quarters. Though she and Mark slept together most nights, there was no way they could fit all of their things together in the same room so she had accepted the quarters that were her's by regs. It was fortunately on the same deck as Mark's though in the next quadrant over so it required a short walk. As it was now, though, she didn't feel like walking to her bed, much less walking another twenty meters to her lover's quarters. Zaharia tossed the uniform jacket draped over her shoulder onto the lone couch in her room and peeled off her sweaty uniform trousers and shirt. She finished stripping and jumped into the shower to wash the grime of a hard night's work off. Zaharia was not one to mind sleeping in the buff, so she didn't bother doing more than drying herself off with a towel before stumbling back into her room and curling up into a semi-fetal position on her bed, not even pulling the sheets over herself. "Lock door," she muttered to the computer. "Dim lights to ten percent." The computer did both duties immediately.
Within minutes Zaharia was nearly asleep. But she didn't stay that way. The door chime sounded. At first she ignored it until it sounded again. "Go away!" Even that didn't work, however, so at the fifth chime she slipped under the sheets and sat up, taking care to hold the sheets over her chest. "Come on in, then," she sighed. If my phaser was by the nightstand I'd stun the bastard just for bugging me.
That emotion did not dilute in the slightest when Berger walked in, wearing his role-playing get-up. "Kathy and Martin are going to meet us at the holodeck at 0825, Zaria. Got your costume ready?"
"Mark, if I didn't love you I'd kill you." She let the sheet fall when the door closed; it wasn't like he hadn't seen her naked breasts before (indeed, he typically did very pleasing things to them). "As it is, you're looking at about two weeks at least before I fuck you again."
A cringe crossed his face; whether Berger was disturbed by her hostility or by the prospect of two weeks without sex, one could not tell. "You stayed up all night, didn't you? I thought you were going to let Kathy relieve you at 0200?"
"She and Martin lost track of time," Zaharia muttered. "And I wanted to be on hand to make sure that the airhead dock master didn't fuck anything up."
"Oh. Well, I'll call 'em and let them know we're not coming."
"Do that. But you're still not getting sex for two weeks."
"Hmm...."
Zaharia turned onto her stomach and closed her eyes, burying her face into the pillow. She heard Berger walk about, calling up Martin to tell him they were cancelling, and was again falling asleep (though not as well from agitation) when she felt Berger sit on the bed. She was about to yell at him to leave when she felt his hands press against her bare back and begin to knead her tight muscles. They were surprisingly cold at first, prompting her to hiss at him, but suddenly they warmed up. She felt an oily texture on her back even where he wasn't touching her. She almost asked about what kind of muscle relaxer he was rubbing onto her, but all that came out was a moan. Her tight muscles protested being forced to relax, but that pain mixed well with the pleasure of the very same relaxation, giving her an intensely enjoyable sensation not unlike sex. She even said as much, murmuring under her breath that it felt better than sex, but Berger could not hear her. Zaharia's breathing slowed and she relaxed, only taking the time to moan while she allowed sleep to come on. She felt his hands move down, rubbing the backs of her thighs and calves for a short while the remaining muscle relaxer kept her back warm. Her feet were next, his fingers kneading the muscles around her ankles before kneading the bottom of her feet. And then he worked his way back up, massaging her buttocks this time. Zaharia's moans temporarily grew louder from the increased pleasure. But that gave way to the pull of sleep, and Zaharia slowly felt the feel of Berger's strong hands fade...
Berger could tell Zaharia was sound asleep shortly after he was rubbing her shoulders. He slid off her bed and moved the sheet and blanket back over her. He put the container of massage oil back on the shelf, noticing the Risan lettering on the bottle for the first time while his fingers moved away from it. He turned back to Zaharia's sleeping form. She had turned in her sleep, laying on her back. He stood for a moment, quite unable to tear himself from the image of her lovely face sound asleep, but it only lasted for a few moments. He used each hand to rub the other, getting out some of the ache that had developed from the massage, and walked out the door while taking care to activate the computer lock.


McKinley Base, Earth Orbit, Sector 001


Phillips and Petersen were arriving at the airlock together and Phillips was not surprised in the slightest to find Zandra waiting on the other side. They stopped walking and he looked to Petersen. "Well, Garrett, this is where I leave you for the weekend."
"Yeah." Petersen shook the offered hand. "Well, have fun with the family, Phil."
"I will. Just make sure you don't get too used to staying planetside."
"Oh, don't worry, I'll be back." An amused grin crossed the younger man's face. "Unless my lady decides not to untie me."
They broke out laughing together while walking toward the airlock. "Take care, Garrett!" Phillips shouted after him while Petersen walked out the lock and toward the civilian transporter bays. Phillips himself walked up to his waiting wife, who hugged him closely. "I told you I'd be back on time," he said to her during the embrace.
"Yes, you did," she replied. Zandra smiled sweetly at him when the hug ended. "The kids are back in the rooms. Got anything planned?"
"Oh, I was thinking we beam down to Aruba..." He put a hand around Zandra's waist and held her close with his left arm while they walked away. "Let the kids play in the beach while you and I catch up on some things."
"Not everything, though."
"Of coiurse not." Phillips winked at her. "The rest is for tonight."
And that made Zandra giggle from anticipation.


Diane Howard had walked up to the airlock just as Phillips put his arm around his wife's back. She watched the happy couple walking off together and heard their laughter very faintly. She could not help but fear a tinge of jealousy in her heart. Edward would have held her like that, she knew. He would have brought her close with those strong, loving arms of his and she would have gladly let him, wanting to feel security in them.
She had not yet seen the two Equinox crew tortured by Madred yet, but Howard didn't need to. She had heard enough in her lifetime. Sometimes at night, when sleep would not come, she thought of how the Cardassians tortured Edward to death. She had not been there - thank God for small favors - but the thoughts stayed with her, unceasing, over the years. And every time she did, Howard raged that the Federation had backed off with the victory still incomplete. In the name of galactic politics and expediency, they had let the brutal torture and murders perpetrated by the Cardassians to go unpunished. There were days Howard wished Cardassia Prime had been burned to the ground.
A single tear began to work it's way down that cold right eye of icey blue. It wasn't fair, dammit! Zandra Phillips had the perfect husband. A noble, brave man, a caring father who loved his kids and who literally worshipped her. And what was she left with? Diane Howard was left with a broken heart, an orphaned son, and a bitter hatred in her heart for all things Cardassian. That little girl, that stuck up little girl, didn't know how damned lucky she was. Why did she get to have her husband while all Diane was left with was her memories, bitter and sweet?! What did Zandra Phillips do to deserve that man, whom she certainly didn't earn, while Diane Howard was left alone?! Howard was close enough to Phillips to know how Zandra whined and cried about Phillips not being home, about having to take care of the children.... that bitch didn't deserve them in the first place! Diane deserved Edward, she deserved those beautiful little girls, and GOD DAMMIT IT WASN'T FAIR!
You're being too harsh, Diane chided herself. Zandra has done nothing wrong. She misses Patrick as much as you miss Edward. But at least she got to be with him every few months. She could do something with that pent-up passion that Diane felt within herself every day. Sometimes Diane wondered if she should stop being the mourning widow and actually see if there were men willing to be with her. She wasn't bad looking, after all. In fact, Diane could be a very sexy woman when dressed right. But Starfleet uniforms weren't exactly the pinnacle of sexy clothing, despite their form-fitting nature. She had to get a dress. A hot red dress that would certainly net a man to bed her for the evening.
With her emotions overflowing, Diane struggled to restore her control before she burst. She was not a tramp and she certainly wasn't going to look for the first willing man to sleep with. Edward was gone, and for ten long years she had accepted that as best she could. Zandra Phillips was a good woman, a loving mother and doting wife who only wanted her husband home, just like Diane wanted Edward. And she had to be more careful with her feelings. She was Commander Diane Howard of Starfleet. More than that, she was Her Grace Diane Howard, Heiress to the Duke of New Norfolk. She had a responsibility to her family and title - not to mention Starfleet - to conduct herself accordingly.
Footsteps came from behind, prompting Diane to turn. Walking up behind her was Dr. Drola Marskukas, the Intrepid's CMO. Drola was an Orion and had a particularly bright emerald green complexion. She had brown eyes, dark brown hair, and stood at about a hundred and sixty five centimeters with an attractive build. Drola was probably the closest thing to a friend Diane had on the ship and had her own personal share of tragedy in her life. Diane didn't know all the details save that Drola had at one time been a slave. Whether she was a household slave, a concubine, or a prostitute-slave Diane didn't know and never asked about, all she knew that Drola had been born in the Orion upper classes and had, through misfortunate for her nation of Rorlurai in one of the many Orion internecine wars, been taken for slavery. She had an accent, somewhat like on would expect from an Iranian (The language of the Rorlurai had some phoenetic simularities to Farsi), and spoke to Diane upon being noticed. "Doing okay, Commander?"
"I'm fine, Drola."
"I don't think so." Drola put a sympathetic hand on Diane's right shoulder. "The tears in your eyes are telling me that you're lying." She grinned slightly. "Why don't you let me take you to the Locker and buy you something?"
After a few moments, Diane replied, "Give me an hour, Drola. I have to talk to Sevak and make sure everything's in order for the dockmaster."
"An hour, then." Drola nodded. "I'll met you at the Locker."


In her quarters, Razmara was finishing the procurement and repair requests to the dockmaster when she noticed an icon flashing in her monitor's corner. She tapped the screen to bring it up and saw that it was Jack. Smiling, she began playing it.
The smile evaporated when she saw that he was not in his quarters on the station but on a ship, with a window in the background clearly showing a ship at warp. "Hi Jack," Razmara said faintly, her heart falling into her stomach.
"Hi Sophia." Jack didn't seem so happy either. "I... tried to wait. But the company had a cargo at Andor headed out to a distribution warehouse out in Sector 220-B and I have to go run it out there."
"That's awfully close to G'kkau space." Razmara shifted in her seat. The disappointment was obvious, since both had been looking forward to another dinner date and the love-making that always followed. "Be careful, okay?"
"You know I will. And Sophia..." Jack finally restored the smile on his face. "Good luck on the Enterprise. You've earned it. Who knows... maybe in a few years you'll be sitting in that captain's chair?"
Razmara smirked. "Don't I wish?"
"I know you do. Well, I've got work to do, so I'll call you later, when we get to Sector 220-B. Maybe we'll be able to run into each other soon enough?"
That made her cringe. Jack and Razmara never had such good luck; their meetings in the last six years were annual if they were lucky. "Well, we can always hope, can't we?"
Jack nodded. "Talk to you later, lover. Take care of yourself."
"I love you, Jack."
"And I love you." Jack touched a button on his desk and the signal cut. The symbol of StarComm Technologies Incorporated appeared on her screen; it was the company that his subspace communications were routing through. Razmara let a few tears come down her cheeks, an outlet to the sorrow of another lost chance with the man she loved, before returning to finishing her work.


Leyton had been kinder than Pressman in their meeting. Though Starfleet Command was Not Happy with his actions in handing the data over to the Romulans, Parker's handling of the situation was being lauded. The press was now labeling him as the man who kept peace with the Romulans, seeming to confirm to the public his worthiness to command the Enterprise.
The Equinox crew was going to be debriefed extensively. Lieutenant Farrelis and Commander Carter would be given two weeks paid leave, with psychological therapy with the most prestigious medical experts on Earth, before returning to duty. If either requested retirement, Starfleet would do so immediately and give them full benefits. For the interim, Starfleet was going to keep Carter in her position aboard Enterprise until she made that decision.
Parker sincerely hoped that Carter would stay. He entered sickbay through the aft door and went through two labs before finding himself in the room where she was kept. Carter was sitting up, talking with a attractive 30-something nurse standing nearby with her back to Parker. The white Nurse Corps uniform contrasted sharply with the other colors of Starfleet uniforms, not to mention her chestnut-coloredhair. Her rank insignia on the collar identified her rank as Petty Officer 1st Class. She was probably the chief nurse of the watch, and was giving Carter a hypospray when Parker got next to them. "Commander, doing well?"
Carter nodded. The woman turned and faced Parker, stiffening her back in response to his presence. Parker gave her a quick lookover. She was quite attractive, with a generous and curved bosom. Her eyes were aquamarine in color, a definite sea-green shade, and her face made her look more like her late twenties even if she was probably at least five years older than she looked. "Captain, nice to meet you. I'm the Chief Nurse of Beta Watch, Petty Officer Kristin Ignacian."
"Miss Ignacian, the pleasure is mine." Parker nodded to her. "Can I speak with Commander Carter for a few minutes?"
"Oh, yes." Kristin nodded. "In fact, as soon as Doctor Nguyen gets back, she'll probably be free to go."
"Excellent." Parker watched Kristin walk off, trying not to seem too intent on admiring her posterior - Parker was a warm-blooded man, after all, if unattached and older - and looked back to Carter, who had an amused smirk on her face. "What's so funny?"
"She's far too young for you, Captain," Carter needled. She certainly seemed in a joyous mood now, even if Parker knew it probably hid deeper and unpleasant feelings. "Don't bother trying to deny it, I was trained to spot that kind of thing."
"Okay, I'm guilty." Parker raised his hands in a sign of surrender. He slid a chair up and sat down by Carter. "You look better."
"Well, yeah." There was an edge to her voice as she added, "Doctor Nguyen's so good that I"m sure you can never tell I just spent a few days being tortured half to death."
"Sharon, I'm sorry we didn't get Madred."
"It's not that." Carter drew in a breath, noting the informality he was using now. "Even if I personally tossed him screaming into the plasma chamber of a nacelle, he'd still be there in my dreams. I'm... never going to forget this, Adrian."
"I know."
"So, what did Starfleet say about us?"
"Two weeks paid leave, at least. Further leave will be issued on advice from the psychologists you'll be sent to see. And naturally Starfleet will be paying for your therapy. And if either you or Lieutenant Farrelis decide to resign your commissions, Starfleet will accept them without complaint."
"Ah." Carter nodded. "The admirals heard about what happened to Jadzia?"
"Yes. Officially, it's a foregone conclusion that nobody can resist torture for prolonged periods of time, and she will not be penalized. Unofficially, Admiral Leyton tells me that with her will so thoroughly broken, Starfleet can never trust her with a command position. She'll be planet or station-bound for the rest of her career and probably never do better than science officer postings."
Carter pounded a fist onto the bed. "God dammit!" She began, slowly, to weep. "God dammit..." Parker moved from his chair to sit beside her. Carter buried her head into his shoulder, while he saw Kristin re-enter to investigate the shout. He waved her off with a free hand while Carter began to go from weeping to all-out crying. "I should have given in, for Jadzia! She's ruined now, because I... I was too stubborn...."
"Shh...."
"How could I have been so selfish?!" Carter gripped him tighter. Parker could feel some moisture through his red uniform shirt. "Jadzia's life is gone now, Adrian. She had potential. So much potential. And it's all gone now. God dammit it's all gone."
Parker held onto Carter and let her continue to cry. It was a few minutes before she managed to work it out of her system. She moved away from him awkwardly and tried to smile weakly. Her eyes were reddened from crying now. "I'm sorry," she murmured.
"Don't be, Sharon." Parker brought his left hand up and cleaned the tears off her cheeks. He had to repress some old feelings he had for Carter. As a junior officer on the Yamato, she had been a rather spunky redhead and Parker had always found that appealing, though he'd never acted upon it. To see that spunkiness, that defiance and self-confidence, so badly damaged by Madred just added further insult to the injury his brutality to her had caused. "Sharon, Madred destroyed Jadzia's potential, don't let him destroy your's too. And it's not the end for Jadzia. I talked with Admiral Leyton. Starfleet is going to have an opening on a frontier station out at Bajor, Deep Space Nine. They're going to send her out there in three months."
After a few moments, Carter seemed to calm down. "It's good to know she'll have something to do. She's a really bright girl."
"I'm sure of it." Parker nodded and tried to smile. "So, shall I go about finding a new Weapons and Security Officer? Or do you want me to leave the position open for you?"
"Oh, let me think about it for a minute," Carter said with much sarcasm. "It's such a tough choice, a planetside posting or the Enterprise.... I'll take the Enterprise."
They both laughed, and Parker felt good to see some of that spunkiness back in Carter. "Well, Commander, then you are cordially invited tonight to Sisko's Bistro in New Orleans. Ben Sisko's an old buddy of mine, and his dad's going to throw a party for the Enterprise's officers tonight."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Carter laughed.


After Parker had left, Nurse Ignacian and Doctor Nguyen returned and gave Carter a final checking before letting her go. While responding to them, Carter could not help but think back...
She had survived. She had beaten Madred. Or had she? All those moments of doubt, all those moments contemplating the sweet bliss of surrender, those were still there. Madred had been a very good torturer; that much was certain. And he knew he had her close to her limit.
But how close?
Carter could not bring herself to consider that at the end, she might have actually seen four lights....
No! The voice, her voice, echoed in Carter's mind. She beat Madred! She was not going to surrender. Death would have freed her from him, and she knew she was going to take it.
But the crew had mattered too. He was going to hurt them if she died. Was she going to surrender for them? For Jadzia? For Rose Masters and her unborn baby? Would she have sacrificed them for her pride?
Madred never would have hurt them anyway; the Romulans would never let him. He was bluffing.
Or was he?
"You're free to go."
Phong's voice had been gentle, but it cut straight through Carter's concentration. She blinked and asked, "Huh?"
"I'm done." Phong patted her on the back. "Nurse MacMillan will be returning with a uniform for you, Commander. Then you're free to do what you want. Though I'd recommend being down at McKinley's Alpha Transporter in three hours. That's when we're beaming down to New Orleans for the party. It should be a fun night."
Carter forced herself to grin. "I'll be there." She watched Phong walk away. Again her mind returned to the question. Had Madred broken her? Had she been close to submission?
These questions, Carter would find out, would haunt her for quite a long time.


The sentiment "Tonight should be fun" was also foremost in the mind of Arno Vanbeginne, currently in his modest quarters about five meters away from the lounge. He had a different reason, of course, given that his face was not even an inch away from the ample cleavage of Kristin Ignacian. He had met the buxom young nurse when he first arrived on the Enterprise and had been pursuing her - in a chivalric manner of course - since that time.
All that hard work had finally paid off. She had come in when her shift was ended, a glass of champagne in hand. After drinking some of the sweet alcoholic beverage, the two had settled on Arno's couch and some friendly talking had become touching, kissing, and now they were starting to undress. He could hardly help himself; Arno was a romantic gentleman, enjoying the pleasures of life with beautiful woman whenever he could. Of course, he didn't sleep around. He would give Kristin a chance for a relationship; if they ever called it off for whatever reason, he would go looking for something new.
Nor did Arno bed or seek to bed every lovely woman he met. He took his self-appointed position as soother of sorrows very seriously, and never sought ladies who he felt needed his help in that regard. Kristin, however, did not fall into that category. She fell into an entirely different category, with her beauty and feisty personality; that of the woman to be desired.
Arno had nearly unbuttoned her uniform by this point. Her exquisite breasts would be freed next, and he would use them to pleasure her while they worked their way to the bottom set of clothing. However, he was just about to undo the last button when his door chime sounded. Kristin moaned irritably, but Arno showed his usual cheer and even had the presence of mind to pick up a case of beer that he knew the man on the other side of the door would be expecting.
However, it wasn't Commander Dalke as he expected, but Commander Data. The golden-skinned android appraised Arno carefully, noting his undressed state. "Commander Dalke beamed down early," Data explained. "He asked me to come down with the beer."
"Ah, yes, well, hear it is." Arno lifted the heavy case and let Data take it. "Do enjoy it, Commander. There should be plenty for everyone!"
"I will convey that to the others." Data seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Have I interrupted something?"
"Yes, but do not worry about."
"Ah." Data had learned just enough of human interactions to not reveal that he had already seen Kristin Ignacian from Sickbay in the room and in a similar undressed state. "Can I speak to you tomorrow? I am curious as to how I might better improve my relations with my fellow officers."
"Of course." Arno, for his part, did not show the slightest bit of impatience in getting Data to leave. It was some cleverness on his part; if he got mad, Data would be inquistive as to why. And then he would delay even further.
Data nodded. Arno wanted him to leave to resume mating with Nurse Ignacian. Undoubtedly he had chosen her because of her uniform, which Data was told made women very attractive as mates. He would have to study that phenomenom in the future. For his part, Data stepped away from the door and let it close. He still had twenty minutes and twenty three point five four nine eight seconds to get to Sisko's Bistro.
Arno stepped away from the closed door and found that Kristin had finished the undressing job herself during the conversation. She was laying on the bed half-naked, her arms to either side and under her head so as to not obscure his view of her chest. He grinned; she had left her panties for him to remove at their leisure later on.
The night was looking very fun indeed.

At 1840, a freighter registered in Ferengi space departed McKinley, bound for the frontier past Breen and Thallonian space. Deep within it's recesses, one of it's handful of passengers was seated alone in his spartan room, apparently thinking to himself.
He began to speak, and though he was conversing with someone, if one were to observe from afar one could never hear the voice replying to him.
"The Romulans will undoubtedly purge the elements responsible for the rogue base in the Triangle. But our material involvement remains unseen. To Starfleet, and to the Romulans, it simply appears that the renegades were well-funded."
A pause.
"Yes, I agree. Pressman will suffice for our purposes. His vigilance is narrow, directed only at those he feels are enemies and oblivious to the threats around him. We will simply have to insure that his vigilance is properly directed."
Pause.
"Given that the Romulan faction we were courting will undoubtedly lose it's grip inside the Romulan military, we will have to find another suitable target for our purposes. The Romulans can still be manipulated, certainly, but no longer in that fashion. Even with their xenophobia, their honor code remains an annoyance."
Pause.
"Yes, the Cardassians are incontent, but their leadership still fears the Federation. And the Klingons and Ferengi are allies, we must not forget. However, there could be elements in the Klingon Empire we can use. After all, the Ferengi are just as dependent upon Klingon military strength as the Klingons are upon Ferengi latinum. That will translate into leverage."
Pause.
"I'll see what I can do then."
Pause.
"I know we would have preferred the Enterprise firing on the Romulan government's forces, but it didn't happen. Adrian Parker is a clever man. I think we need to keep our involvement hidden from him. Otherwise he would certainly pose a viable threat to our operations."
Pause.
"That won't be necessary at this juncture. Currently he's no threat, and could be an asset if used properly."
Pause.
"This is different than that, I think. Besides, we took care of them, didn't we? They will not be in a position to interfere, or to alert Parker or anyone else to our goals."
Pause.
"Yes, that one got away. But he's just one man, and he doesn't know of our plans. Let him wallow about in his ignorance."
Pause.
"I should be out on the frontier in a couple of weeks to gather more agents for our use. We'll let things simmer for a while and allow our agents to move the pieces into position. Then we shall set our plans into motion."
Pause.
"Of course."
And then the conversation abruptly ended.





Rassin' fraggin' thing, cut off the last part most of the way through, had to put it in a new post, blah!

Oh, and for proper credit, our dear Duchess of Zeon edited part of the scene with Marina Lenarova in her ship's sickbay, changing a few lines of dialogue here and there plus some of the third-person POV lines.

Dude. Stop being so damn good at this; you'll give everyone else an inferiority complex.

And huzzah for sexy, buxom nurses named Kristin!

U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D (Sovereign-class) Crew:

CO: Capt. Adrian Parker
XO: Cmdr. Sophia Razmara
Operations Officer: Lt. Cmdr. Data
Tactical Officer: Lt. Cmdr. Sharon Carter
Chief Engineer : Lt. Cmdr. Adam Dalke (brown hair) - QBASIC45 from SB
Chief Medical Officer: Dr. (Cmdr.) Phong Nguyen - phongn
Sensor Officer: Lt. S.G. Larrisa Josica Hortul (of Edo)
Communicatons Officer: Lt. S.G. James O'Keefe - Obi-Jok Kenobi from SB
Squadron CO: Lt. S.G. Chris "Vertigo" Coleman - Vertigo... duh.
Navigation Officer: Lt. S.G. James Hamblin Jr. - Hamblin from SB, or really the son of Hamblin's as-of-yet-unseen character
Chief Nurse - Beta Shift: Petty Officer 1st Class Kristin Ignacian - created by Zaia
Lounge Supervisor: Arno Vanbeggine - Cyclops from SB

U.S.S. Intrepid NCC-79326 (Independence-class) Crew:

CO: Capt. Patrick Phillips - Eagle One from SB
XO: Cmdr. Diane Howard
Wing CO: Cmdr. Garrett Petersen - Slacker
Operations Officer (includes Sensors/Communications): Lt. Cmdr. Sevak (of Vulcan)
Chief Medical Officer: Dr. (Lt. Cmdr.) Drola Marskukas (of the Orion)
Chief Engineer: Lt. Cmdr. Geordi La Forge
Tactical Officer: Lt. S.G. Saffi Larsen (brown-blonde hair, aquamarine eyes)
Navigation Officer: Lt. J.G. Ro Laren (of Bajor)

U.S.S. Minneapolis NCC-79451 (Akira-class) Crew:

CO: Capt. Mark Berger - Iceberg3k
XO: Cmdr. Sebastian Breit - Posbi
Operations Officer (includes Sensors): Lt. Cmdr. Katherine Hall - LadyTevar
Chief Medical Officer: Dr. (Lt. S.G.) Vladimir Sokhol
Chief Engineer: Lt. Cmdr. Zaharia Herzela (of Trill)
Tactical Officer: Lt. S.G. Martin Hall - SirNitram
Communications Officer: Lt. J.G. Falon Kaeyr (of Rigel)
Navigation Officer: Lt. J.G. Marvas Kiefvor (of Trill)

U.S.S. Hood NCC-42296 (Excelsior-class) Crew:

CO: Capt. Drake Irvine - IDMR
XO: Cmdr. Rosaline d'Orvilliers - friend of IDMR's
Operations Officer (Sensors): Lt. Cmdr. Achmed al-Hassad
Chief Engineer: Lt. Cmdr. Seth Engasser - Seth from SB
Chief Medical Officer: Dr. (Lt. S.G.) Soliar Malix (of Bolarus)
Tactical Officer: Lt. S.G. Renel Sakal (of Bajor)
Communications Officer: Lt. S.G. Me-Ai Kim - friend of Coyote's

U.S.S. Great Lakes NCC-549-C Crew (New Orleans-class):

CO: Capt. Marina Lenarova - Marina aka The Duchess of Zeon
XO: Lt. Cmdr. Ariel Shaham - Coyote
Chief Engineer: Lt. S.G. Edward Dunai - friend of Marina's
CMO: Dr. (Lt. S.G.) Michelle Allyn - friend of Marina's
Tactical Officer: Lt. S.G. Robert Dalton - Rob Dalton
Navigation Officer: Lt. J.G. Frank Hipper - Frank Hipper
Sensor Officer: Lt. S.G. Rochelle Allyn - friend of Marina's

U.S.S. Avenger NCC-79501 (Defiant-class) Crew:

CO: Cmdr. Christopher O'Farrell - Chris O'Farrell.... duh!
XO: Lt. Cmdr. Natasha Yar
Chief Engineer: Lt. S.G. Miles O'Brien
Operations Officer (Sensors/Communications): Lt. J.G. Phillip Leeson
Weapons Officer: Lt. J.G. Branislav Kojic

U.S.S. Valiant NCC-79486 (Defiant-class) Crew:

CO: Cmdr. Misty Greene - LT_Ryguy from SB
XO: Lt. Cmdr. Jane April - Sakura Azhreia from SB
Chief Engineer: Lt. S.G. Siegfried Meyers
Operations Officer (Sensors/Communications): Ensign Christine Bennington
Tactical/Weapons Officer: Lt. J.G. Tuvok