TREKS IN SCI-FI FORUM

ACT I

Prologue

Joint Post By Jen and Hawkeymeds:

Joseph D'Callan sat looking at the empty space in front of him. Only five minutes before, he had been viewing a message from his brother Theran. It was nice to receive well wishes from him, but then his brother ruined those good intentions with the shocking news that his father had escaped from the high security asylum. Therean went on to reveal that their father was responsible for the deadly AI chip implanted in Joseph, and twelve other individuals. Against strict Section 31 orders, his brother sent him the message on an encoded bandwidth, so as not to be detected. Theran D'Callan decided, for once in his life, that the truth would be better told straight away. He followed up this information with the details of his new mission for Section 31; including the individual he would be working with. This was the news D'Callan was currently pondering. He was nervous and groggy from the medication. His stomach rumbled from the pit of his hollow core. It seemed he was hungry too.

The Chief Of Security was propped up on one elbow, still holding the PADD in his hand. The Sickbay was quiet, and only a few medical personnel still bustled about. He heard a throat being cleared and he lowered the Personal Display Device to see Doctor Drett standing at the foot of his bio bed. "Feeling better?" she asked in an amiable tone that could brighten the darkest mood.

Joseph gave her a warm smile, "Hello Ryla. How long have you been stealthily hovering, like only you medical types can?"

"Long enough to see your face transition from a serine smile to a serious frown."

D'Callan put the PADD down on the others side of the bed and turned it over,  "I have a lot on my mind...can you keep a secret?"

"As long as what you're going to tell me, isn't a danger to the ship, or this crew, then doctor/patient confidentiality will be honored.... Cross my heart and hope to die." She smiled at the children's oath,  "that's something Felahras's youngest daughter, Marilda, used to say. She was always making promises to me. But that was four hosts and two hundred and fifteen years ago. It's possible I have the wording wrong...how did the rest go? 'Stick a needle in my eye?' The son of a Starfleet Ambassador taught my daughter that vicious vow. Humans can be so morbid... no offense Lieutenant."

"None taken. Though I can't say as much for Commander Sevryll. I said something improper to her, upon my arrival on Arabella."

Ryla raised an eyebrow.

"That's uncanny. That was her reaction as well," he smirked.

"Is that what you're worried about? Vulcans have tough skin. I'm sure she's forgotten it by now."

"I don't know about that. I thought I was out of earshot—and I was—but her Vulcan hearing is more sensitive than I thought and she let me know it.  The Commander picked up on every word, and I guess you can say we got off on the wrong ear." He chucked at his own joke before continuing. "I've been out of the world of professional attitude for quite a while. But I'm back in form now, so to speak, the trouble is, I have learned something that I believe is important to her. It's extremely sensitive information. I feel it is necessary to share it with her, but she's not going to want to hear it from me that's for sure."

Ryla patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. Lieutenant Joseph D'Callan always does the right thing, even if it means risking of his own life. I believe that's why you're in Sickbay now, isn't it? Ensign Dunn and that child you saved are very grateful that you didn't hesitate to do the right thing back on Ter'Oss. You faced down a ferocious animal to save their lives... I doubt Commander Sevryll is as scary as that."

Ryla looked up to see Susan Caine watching their exchange from her station. The Trill glanced to D'Callan who had also noticed the nurse.  Susan stepped out from behind her terminal and smiled, "I was going to go to the Afterburner for dinner. Can I bring you something, Joseph?" 

"Fish and Chips, mushy peas, oh and gravy. That would be nice. Thank you," he said.

Nurse Caine stifled a smile and left Drett and D'Callan for the lounge. Ryla waited for the doors to close before turning back to the Lieutenant,  "She's been at your side every day since the surgery, and not just while making her rounds. She came in to check on you when she was off duty too. Susan is an excellent nurse, but somehow I believe her concern is more than professional." She smiled at the Lieutenant as he began to flush with mild embarrassment.  "She's been having her meals at your bedside for the past few days, but you weren't much for conversation then. Now that you're awake, I'm certain that you'll be much better company. I'm headed to the lounge myself, and I won't be back to check on you...I'm sure Nurse Caine will do that for me." Ryla winked at the security officer and headed for the transparent double doors. The ancient caduceus symbol, engraved in the tempered glass, came together as they closed behind her.

The Lieutenant sighed. Picking up the PADD, he tapped it against his head in thought. He contemplated the new information Theran had given him, but annoyingly, the words of Doctor Drett kept entering his thoughts to distract him. Susan had been by his side the entire time? He had been rude to her the first time they met. It was becoming rather apparent that good impressions were not his forte. A yawn assailed him and he closed his eyes tightly as he drew a large breath of sterile, Sickbay air. When he opened his eyes once more, he brought the PADD before him and tapped the yellow and blue bars.

"Lieutenant Joseph D'Callan, save. FTAO Commander Sevryll.

Deliver this message in the event of no communication from Lieutenant Joseph D'Callan, lapsing 120 hours, during Arabella service. Information to be opened by Commander Sevryll. Code 1, Section 1, Arabella 9-4-73"

He hesitated a moment, then sent the message before deleting it from his PADD. Feeling weak, but happier in the knowledge of Susan Caine's interest, he sank into his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

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

Post written by Jen:

Ryla Drett preferred a leisurely pace. After her first host Kabric fell to his death, while rushing up the Tenaran Ice Cliffs on the Trill Homeworld, her edict became "I'll get there when I get there." Because of this decree, the Joined Trill was chronically late. Ryla was always at least three minutes tardy, wherever she went. Of course she made a concerted effort to be prompt to work, for her duty as a physician demanded reliability. But, when off-duty, the Trill was deliberate in her dillydallying.  Luckily, or unluckily for Ryla, no one awaited her arrival in the lounge that evening.

Rumor had it that the Ter'Ossick mission was successful and Spring Farmer, a friend whom the doctor routinely met for dinner, would soon be returning from her very first away mission. It was an assignment that Ryla had yearned to be apart of.  But instead, the Assistant Chief Medical Officer was left in charge of Sickbay. Heading up the ship's medical facility was a responsibility she was no less appreciative of, yet exploration was one of her greatest aspirations. Though Ryla was happy to live vicariously through Spring, she hoped to experience her own adventure in the near future. The next time she saw her friend, Ryla would interview the science officer about her experiences on the planet that the Arabella currently orbited.

She entered the turbolift and called for the appropriate deck, then clasped her hands behind her back and casually leaned against the back wall. The lights from the deck floors ticked past the window slits as the lift ascended toward its destination. They were hypnotic, and as she watched their rhythmic pulse, she found herself contemplating the last conversation she had with Spring a week before. The Fertillian's people corresponded with one another via pheromones, and the young science officer often utilized this technique to gage and affect the moods of other species. Spring had shared her interpretation of Ryla's reaction to the Chief Tactical Officer, after she watched them converse before his departure to Ter'Oss.  Doctor Drett initially rejected Spring's analysis, for Trills rarely were flustered, enamored or infatuated.  But K'Tan had been creeping into her thoughts since their brief exchange, and she wondered if Spring had chemically influenced her sentiments. She quickly dismissed that possibility when she recalled their introduction aboard the Tiberius. At the time, Ensign Farmer was not apart of that crew, and therefore could be accused of playing "matchmaker". Ryla bit her bottom lip subconsciously and as she absently observed the decks fly past, she couldn't help but smile at the Spring's perceptive observation.

The lift slowed and the door opened to deposit her on Deck 11. Her smile narrowed slightly but her expression still denoted a buoyant disposition, and she stepped onto the soft gray carpet with a notable bounce in her step. As she headed down the corridor, busy crewmen, with missions all their own, flowed past like spawning fish, swimming upstream. She greeted them each by name and despite their haste, they managed to smile and say "hello" to the dainty Trill.  Aside from Doctor Peterson, and perhaps Captain Quinn, Doctor Ryla Drett was one of the few officers who could honestly say that she had met every crewmember stationed aboard the Arabella. Everybody ended up in Sickbay in due course, and Ryla had personally examined a good number of personnel and their families. She was well liked, and the admiration of her patients' was due in part to her perpetual optimism and bedside manner.

Another of her mottos was: "compassion for others is secondary only to a cheerful disposition." The mindset was unique to "Ryla Emarin", the host who later became became "Ryla Drett", and this attribute was the basis for her conscription into Peterson's staff. There were many physicians who were more experienced, but Ryla's combination of attitude, ability and ingenuity made her a uniquely qualified medical officer.

She proved herself worthy of the posting during an epidemic that plagued Captain Quinn's ill-fated Akira class starship, the U.S.S. Tiberius. Ryla stepped in for the incapacitated CMO, and while the entire crew was quarantined on Vulsunar Station, she and Aria James toiled to develop a cure. It took almost a year to create, but the accomplishment earned her a position as Assistant Chief Medical Officer aboard Quinn's newly minted Intrepid class starship, the U.S.S. Arabella.

As she approached the oaken double doors of the Arabella's most popular hangout, her gaze turned to the holographic sign positioned above them. The blue flames that spelled the name of J'Dan Marley's lounge, licked at the ceiling like a hungry targ. It was a glitzy directional for a starship, and she wondered what sort of under-the-table dealings J'Dan had to do to gain Starleet's approval for installation.  Ryla continued to admire the sign as she stepped through the doors, and entered the bustling atmosphere of the Afterburner. It was open mic night, and the room was alive with music and patrons eating dinner and playing pool. She slowly scanned the room for an available space and noticed a dark-haired man, of immense physical stature, sitting at her favorite table, with two small children. She knew the children well, for M'rynn and N'vall had come to Sickbay on several occasions.

Ryla found another spot, near the back of the room, and watched them from afar. As she recalled, the man that accompanied them had once introduced himself as "Dennis". A year ago, he aided Drett and K'Tan's investigation of Doctor Lucas, whom they later discovered had purposefully infected the crew of Tiberius with a virus that ultimately claimed a third of the crew and the ship itself. Despite his help, the Herculean man that attended Commander Sevryll's children, was perhaps the one person aboard Arabella that Ryla knew the least about. J'Dan approached her table, pulling the Trill from her reverie. He cast his pale brown eyes upon her and cleared his throat,  "can I get you something Doctor Drett?"

She turned her smile to meet the Bajoran bartender's, "Hello, J'Dan. I know you still haven't come to sickbay for your physical."

"OH. Yeah... I'll take care of that soon. Don't worry Doc."

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, "see that you do."

He shook one hand as if to say "ouch" and his expression morphed to a pained one before it melted back into a smile, "Would you like something from the bar?"

"Yes, thank you. Let's see....I'd like a Spinach salad, please. With oil and vinegar on the side, and a Tuwaly pie à la mode, but I'd like the pie heated and I don't want the ice-cream on the top. I want it on the side and I'd like Icoberry instead of vanilla... if you can replicate it. If not, then no ice-cream, just whipped cream, but only if it's a relative approximation to the real thing. If it's not, then nothing."

J'Dan punched her order into his PADD, "not even the pie?"

Ryla's smile pressed dimples into her cheeks as she glanced up at him to clarify, "No... then just the pie, but not heated."

J'Dan blinked and after a stretch of silence he replied, "on the side is a big thing for you. I'll have that right out."

As he walked away she noticed M'rynn climbing into a chair next to her.

"Hi," she said in a delightful tone. Ryla beamed at her small guest.

Season Eight:

Post written by Jen and Startrekfanatic5:

Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn smiled as he rose from the command chair upon the bridge of the Arabella. The Betazoid/ El Aurian was intensely proud of his valiant crew and magnificent ship. The successful end of their current mission brought with it the conclusion of the USS Arabella's maiden voyage—both the vessel and its crew had demonstrated themselves to be second to no other.

Nathan's quiet yet stalwart authority inspired those who followed him. He was not a gregarious man, nor was he prideful or strident. He was a pensive gentleman with a heart that swelled to embrace those who selflessly served aboard his ship. Many of the Arabella's officers had been aboard the last vessel he commanded—the late, great Tiberius.  Those who lived through the virus that infected his ship were quarantined on an old science station orbiting Vulcan. During the year that followed, the survivors fostered a bond that very few in Starfleet would ever experience. When the Arabella was commissioned, and he was put in command of her, Captain Quinn sought those surviving men and women of Tiberius for his new ship, for no other crew would do.

He clasped his hands behind his back and narrowed his green eyes as he scanned the viewscreen before him. The blue-green world that filled his view served as a backdrop to the two small ships that headed back to Arabella. Their mission was complete and the teams were heading home.

As he lowered himself back into the command chair, an odd sensation enveloped his body. He closed his eyes as the room spun. Seconds later, the smell of stale air filled his nostrils. The captain opened his eyes and witnessed a green haze that hung about him within a heavy atmosphere. The air was stifling and its humidity clung to him like a second skin.  He shook his head in an attempt to clear the confusion. Nathan's eyes flitted about as a heavy dread filled his core. He knew where he was... but how? Quinn instinctively pressed his comm badge and his voice echoed in the cavern of stolen technology, "Quinn to the Arabella." There was no response. He pressed it again, "Captain Quinn to any Starfleet officer." Still no reply. 

Two Borg drones approached him. He was weaponless, but Nathan wasn't going to give up without a fight. "Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, come with us", they uttered in unison. Quinn turned to run, but two more drones blocked his escape. "Resistance is Futile", they hummed in accord. "Yeah, we'll see about that", said Quinn with a nervous laugh as he rushed one of the drones, knocking him aside. Nathan ran down the dimly lit metal plated corridor filled with Borg stationed in their dark alcoves. As he ran past them he could hear the whine of servos as they detached themselves from their bays to pursue him. "Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, of the USS Arabella... resistance if futile." He could hear their voices on the air, thousands of them all in unison. He had heard them once before. They were chaotic when they spoke to him on the surface of Ter'Oss. They had overwhelmed his sensitive telepathic abilities. Believing that the unique geological formations of Ter'Oss had prevented his ability to filter the voices of the native peoples, Quinn returned to the ship. Yet it was not the Ter'Ossick who molested his mind with their frenzied voices...it was the Borg.

Nathan quickly turned a corner, his footsteps ringing out as they struck the metal decking as he ran. The frantic  officer blindly slammed into a drone, causing him fall back. As scrambled to his feet, he looked into the face of the Borg he had just collided with. The red beam of its ocular-implant scanned his stolidly, yet Nathan recognized the man buried beneath the mechanical components. His heart fell at the realization and tears welled in his gray-green eyes, "No... this isn't possible..." he said shaking his head in  denial. As panic began to take over, he stepped toward the man he once knew. "What have they done to you?" Nathan reached to cup the man's face in his hands. "No," he uttered in a doleful whisper.  The Borg who had once been Nicholas Took raised a cold, mechanical pincher and clamped it down hard on Quinn's shoulder. Nathan instantly felt an acute pain as an electrical current traversed the Borg's arm and entered Nathan's body, causing him to lose conciseness.

Joint Post by Jen and Just X:

The USS Arabella was thrown into chaos as apprehension struck the hearts and minds of the bridge officers. Captain Quinn was gone and for some of the crew, it was not the first time that a captain had vanished in the middle of an important mission.

"Computer, where is Captain Quinn?" Shouted the Andorian who had rushed from his position at the Science Station, to stand before the empty command chair.

"Captain Quinn is no longer aboard," repeated the impassive voice of the computer.

"Zremm to Commander Tucker, please report to the bridge to assume command duties. The captain is missing." The danger of the situation became all too apparent. The crew was not only missing her captain, but her first and second officers were still in route from the planet surface. The Andorian swallowed the natural tendencies of his species to deal with adversity through agression , and opened a communications channel to the returning ships. As he spoke, he made note of the two distinct subspace disturbances just outside of the planet's orbit.

"On my way Lieutenant. Go to red alert status and inform the XO of the development." Replied the slightly groggy voice of the Delta Shift Commander.

Acknowledging the orders, Zremm activated the red alert and opened a communications channel to the approaching runabouts. The claxon of the alert filled the ship and tinted the bridge in pulsing red light. The science officer wasted no time in relaying the ship's status to her first officer.


Sevryll felt the first wave of anxiety surge against the protective walls of her delicate composure. It seemed that history was repeating itself. She could not help but recall her first mission aboard the USS Tiberius. In that moment, what she buried in her core was the deep seeded fear that Nathan Quinn had befallen the same fate as the late Captain Bell.

Nathan was the First Officer aboard Tiberius while Gilbert Bell was in command. Yet after Bell's sudden disappearance, Quinn was thrust into the position of commanding officer. At the time, Severyll was the Chief Science Officer and the position of First Officer fell to her... whether she wanted it or not.

Sevryll's heart sank, Gilbert Bell was never recovered—would Nathan be lost to them as well? She suppressed a shutter. As it had with Nathan years ago, in the absence of the captain, command would fall to her. Yet Sevryll refused to be the next in line to inherit the Arabella. They would find the captain... she would not rest until they did.

"Arrange for a ship to ship transport, Mr. Zremm...Beam me directly the bridge."

"Understood, stand by Commander."

An eddy of shimmering particles coalesced to form the tall, slender form of a Ter'Ossick female standing before the viewscreen on the Arabella's bridge. Sevryll was still disguised as a native of the planet she had just returned from, and there was no time to remove the prosthetics. The Vulcan First Officer bent her golden-eyed gaze toward the human positioned at Ops, "Ensign, have Commander James transported directly to the bridge and the runabouts beamed to Main Shuttlebay."

"Aye, sir."

Sevryll then pivoted to face her Assistant Chief Science Officer, who still stood near the Command chair "Report, Mr. Zremm," she voiced in a crisp, yet unaffected tone.

Before he could speak, an alien beam scanned the vessel and was  followed shortly after, by a swarm of raucous cybernetic voices that echoed throughout the vessel: "We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship...."

The icy fingers of the frigid declaration raked over Sevryll, "Shields up!" She snapped over their prattle, just as the second officer, still in his Ter'Ossick guise, appeared on the bridge.

"Bring us between the runabouts and the Borg," she ordered as she stepped toward the viewscreen.

"We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us...."

"Sir!  We're having trouble obtaining a transporter lock on the runabouts," reported Ensign Thorne from his position at Ops.

"...Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

The ship lurched as the sphere unleashed a volley of energy at the Arabella. Sevryll stumbled forward as the Ops console exploded, killing a young human.  Within moments, Chief Ronan quickly confirmed the fatality and took the fallen man's position.

"Lock phasers and return fire with attack pattern James Alpha Pi!" Shouted Lieutenant Commander James. He had fought the Borg dozens of times, but those were all simulations. They had no room for mistake. "Target their propulsion systems with the phaser cannons and fire at will. Computer, mute that alarm!"


Commander Sevryll flicked her eyes toward Ronan, "Get them aboard, Chief! We have to raise the shields now!"

"Got them! They've been safely transported to main shuttlebay!" Ronan said as another volley from the sphere violently rocked the ship.

"That last attack caused heavy damage. Torpedo launchers and primary phasers are offline. Shields are up and holding at eighty-six percent. The Borg Sphere has taken significant damage to their impulse manifolds." Shouted the Lieutenant O'Tak from his position at the Tactical Station.

"Commander, we're receiving reports of Borg intruders on Decks six, seven, eleven and thirteen!" Reported Zremm.

"Mr. James, take a security team to combat the intruders and secure the ship."

"Aye captain," Aeric said and made his way towards the turbolift doors. Even as he quietly accessed the ship's computer systems, to prevent the Borg from controlling them, he could sense their dark technology pulsing from the decks below. They had to ensure that the Borg did not gain a foothold on the Arabella, or the starship would be lost and with it, the crew. Before he entered the lift, Aeric glanced to two of the security officers on the bridge. "Jackson and Ged you're with me!" Both men nodded brusquely and followed into the turbolift.

"Sir?" Ronan shouted to James to gain his attention, and tossed a phaser to the unarmed Second officer.

Aeric caught the weapon and entered the lift with his tactical support. "Deck Six! James to security.  I need additional men and heavy weaponry to meet us on Deck Six."

"Attention all hands," Sevryll stated with practiced Vulcan calm. "We have been boarded by the Borg. All non-essential hands clear Decks Six, Seven, Eleven, and Thirteen.... All security trained personnel, secure these decks."

The doors to the turbolift closed just as Sevryll ended her transmission. She turned to the flight con officer, "Mr. Wynn, take us clear of the planet at maximum warp. Without primary weaponry, our options against the Borg are limited. "

He nodded as his fingers flew over the panel before him. A series of negative chirps and tones sounded in response to his sequence. "Captain, we are having trouble generating a stable warp field, due to the interference from the subspace disturbances."

"Take us away from the anomalies at full impulse, and tell engineering that we need those weapons!" Sevryll said as she turned to face O'Tak. "Tactical, keep a close eye on the shields. While they were designed with the Borg in mind, this will be the first true test. We can't afford to let them fail."

Post Written By Jen:

An eerie silence washed over the Afterburner as a wave of green light sliced through the lounge and passed over each patron. Ryla's hand moved to grasp M'rynn's before looking up at the towering man kneeling next to their table. Dennis scooped N'Vall into his massive arms and stood. Though calm, his expression communicated volumes and without uttering a word, he nodded toward the bar at the rear of the lounge.

"We are the Borg..." came a cold mechanical echo over the ship's com system. That was their cue to pick-up the pace.  Ryla and Dennis rushed toward the bar as patrons screamed in panic and darted for the exit.  Dennis pushed through the stampeding crowd, making a path for the diminutive doctor and the children he was programmed to protect. With Sevryll's twins in tow, they dashed towards J'Dan, who had produced a side arm from under the bar. The Bajoran waved them past, and took a position behind the gloss-black slab that he worked so hard to polish the night before.

"You have one of those for me?" inquired Dennis in a booming baritone.

The bartender shook his head, "Sorry...this is all I have."

The sound of drones materializing in the lounge was barely audible over the cries of personnel. The children began to whimper in confusion and fear. "Shooosh.... It's okay." Ryla tried to reassure them, but the words sounded hollow in her ears. It was never okay when the Borg was concerned.

The ship shuttered violently, knocking tableware and customers to the floor.  Over the ship's intercom, the Commander's impassive voice did little else but confirm that the beings wielding various mechanical appendages were in fact Borg drones.  Recognizing their mother's voice, the children called out to her, "mommy! Mommy!" Their whimpers soon transitioned to sobs, and then wails, as J'Dan began firing at the Borg.
The deck shook again as the sphere fired upon the Arabella. Bottles of synthehol fell from their shelves and smashed to the floor around the Trill and the little ones she defended.  As bits of glass pelted them, the half-Vulcan children closed their eyes and pulled themselves closer to the doctor.

Dennis swung his massive fists against an advancing Borg. The Trill flinched as the giant man slammed the drone's head into the hard surface of the bar, and allowed it to drop to the floor beside her. Wide-eyed, the pale intruder trembled violently while servos whined and arcs of energy traversed its body. Plumes of smoke rose from the ruined Borg implants, causing Ryla's eyes to water and her throat to burn. As the drone's movements became stagnant, two more pushed toward them.

An acrid electrical tang blended with a heady disinfectant, indicated the presence of numerous drones in the lounge. One by one, their nanites flooded the bodies of fellow crewmates—plucking them from a world of autonomy and dragging them into the realm of the cybernetic dependency.

J'Dan readjusted the settings on his firearm as Dennis blocked the tremendous blow of a mechanical arm. The hologram then directed a palm-heal strike at the invader's face, shoving the ocular-implant deep into its head. The drone 's mouth gapped reflexively before dropping to one knee and falling across its dead compatriot with a fierce tremor.

The lighting in the lounge flickered off as power was diverted to the shields. The only illumination came from the soft, blue glow of the planet they orbited. That light was merely temporary, for the diffused radiance was dimmed again as the Arabella moved away from Ter'Oss. If one could spare a moment to admire the scene through the viewports, that individual might marvel at the ribbons of light that stretched beyond the ship, the beautiful azure globe that shrank in the distance...and the ominous Borg Sphere, riding their wake in pursuit.

Soon, the welcome sound of phaser-fire folded itself into the audible chaos of the Afterburner. A security team had begun to swarm the entrance of the lounge. After snapping the neck of yet another cyborg, Dennis turned to Ryla, "Move the children toward the exit!"

"I'll cover you!" Shouted J'Dan.

"We're sending the doctor and two children your way!" Bellowed Dennis to the security force.

"Understood!" Replied the team leader. Holding tightly to the children's hands, the Trill began to cautiously pick her way toward the defenders. A Borg that Dennis struggled with injected a tubule into his neck and nanites began to short out the orb that served as a permanent holo-emmiter.  Until that moment, only a handful of individuals knew that Dennis was a program and Ryla was not among them.

When the boy realized they were leaving the brawny sentinel, N'Vall pulled away from Doctor Drett to aid his friend. "No...Come back!" The boy came to Dennis's side and angrily stomped on the drone's boot.  The hologram's distorted voice echoed the doctor's plea for the boy to return, then he abruptly flickered and blinked out of existence.

J'Dan roared and fired at the drone, as it redirected his attack at the small boy. The green glow of an energy field enveloped the zombie— its shielding had adapted to the Bajoran weapon. Ryla gasped in realization, then pushed the girl behind her and seized the Borg's arm in a fruitless attempt to drag it away from the boy. The drone turned an arctic expression toward the petite doctor as its tubles stabbed into the boy and injected its poison into the squirming toddler. The Trill screamed in unison with N'Vall and M'rynn before the drone easily pitched her aside. Ryla struck the wall behind them and slid to the floor. Gasping for air, she slowly rolled to her side as J'Dan lunged for the toddler. The dazed Trill glanced back to see M'rynn hiding in the shadows.  Intent on aiding the Bajoran bartender, the doctor scrambled to unsteady feet. She swallowed hard as she stumbled forward—if she could reclaim the child, they might be able to reverse the effect before it was too late. She glanced once more at the small dark outline of M'rynn, and charged forward to rescue her brother.

Silhouettes danced about the room, making it difficult for the security officers to verify their targets. As golden beams criss-crossed the lounge, Ensign Bowers leveled his Type 3 Phaser Rifle at the Borg that, an instant before, had tossed a woman like a rag doll. He could still see the outline of the drone from his position, and waited for another beam to illuminate the room before taking his shot. He drew a breath in preparation. Sweat rolled into his eyes and his hands trembled slightly. This was Talon Bowers' first encounter with the Borg and his nerves were raw with anticipation. The moment came—the room brightened and he simultaneously squeezed a pulse from his rifle. During the nanosecond of discharge, he saw a woman fall. A heartbeat later, a harsh green radiance told the security officer that the Borg he fired at, had transported off the ship.

Ryla's pale brown eyes fluttered rapidly as she struggled to remain conscious. Their blurry focus was set upon the broken glass that blanketed the floor around her. The shards reflected the intermittent flash of phaser-fire and sparkled like the gemstones she saw during her last sojourn to Actun Tunichil Muknal cave in Belize .

The beautiful stones crunched underfoot as a pair of boots entered her view. Muffled voices spoke over her, and she felt two strong hands turn her over and lift her up.  The world seemed to decelerate, as people moved about her in slow motion. She had always preferred a leisurely pace but her medical mind told her the tempo was manufactured by a loss of blood.  The pain from the phaser blast was concentrated at her midsection. She moved a hand to her waist and her slender fingers met a large void. Ryla's sluggish mind lethargically thought of the symbiont.

As she was lowered to the floor in the passageway, the muted echo of a child's sobs grew louder and then tapered into silence as they moved passed her. The toddler was safe, but there was only one cry. Her mind shouted for N'Vall but her lips failed to form the words. She coughed instead, and tasted the salty flavor of iron. Blurred faces slowly came into view over her. She recognized J'Dan...it had been his hands that carried her from the lounge.  Susan Caine spoke to the Trill in a soothing tone and the hiss of a hypo brought numbness to Ryla's body. "Three CC's Merfadon, STAT", she senselessly muttered before choking out another cough.

The doctor felt cold, and her teeth began to chatter, but she no longer felt the searing pain. Ryla's eyes rolled upward, to watch the shadows that played over the surface of the ceiling. At first she thought the shadows belonged to her rescuers, but after a while she realized that they moved independently of their source. As they came closer, she saw that they had faces of their own, belonging to people Ryla lost long ago. They slowly spilled down from above to gently envelope her. Ryla's glassy-eyed stare shifted back to J'Dan and Nurse Caine, who did not seem to notice the beings who came to take her home.

"Come with us," beckoned her grandmother's voice. A smile pushed dimples into her cheeks for the last time. Then Ryla Drett drew a ragged breath and slowly exhaled—leaving her family on the Arabella to join her ancestors in the afterlife.

The alarm echoed through Josephs ears and he sat bolt up right in bed.

"What the devil is going on?"

He looked round to see a plate of cold fish and chips sitting on the table.

"Computer, this is Chief of Security. Report"

"The USS Arabella is on Red Alert. In action against The Borg"

D'Callan dropped from his bed and felt a sting of pain in his stomach, he looked down and grabbed a handful of chips and ate them quickly.

"Hmmmm tasty. Computer replicate me a unifrom for my measurements, hold on take an inch of the waist will you"

A uniform appeared in the replicator and D'callan dropped his medical gown. At that moment Nurse Caine rushed in with three other officers carrying Ryla's body. Seeing D'Callans empty bed she lay the body down onto it and activated the medical display. Turning round she saw the naked Chief of Security. Joseph looked at her and then down at his naked form.

"Give us a hand putting this on will you"

She ran over to him and helped him pull the uniform down over his body. he locked a belt on and pressed his thumb against a hidden panel. The draw opened and D'callan took out three phasers and a rifle phaser. He handed her one of the phasers and looked at Ryla.

"If they come in here use this and fluctuate the settings. Stay safe"

Joseph turned to walk off but Susan pulled him back, she took a napkin off the table and wiped a bit of chip fat from his mouth.

"Can't have you going out messy now can I "

She looked sad but winked at him and watched her old patient run out of sick bay before turning back and attending to the body of Ryla.

D'Callan ran down the corridor and tapped his com badge.

"D'Callan to all security personnel. Take your positions, security tactic echo 4."

As he got to a turbo lift the doors opened and he found several security men.

"Sir. Lieutenant Commander James has ordered us to seek any Borg intruders"

D'Callan looked at them and smiled.

"Then carry on ensign. Report to me on your findings"

Racing into the turbo lift D'Callan put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, the pain in his stomach ached again. He looked up and drew a big breath.

"Bridge"

K'Tan smiled to himself as the runabout Shadowfax cleared the atmosphere or the planet TerOss, the deck vibrating gently as the ship escaped into the vacuum of space.  He glanced at the away team members seated with him; all had done an outstanding job resolving the situation on the developing world. 

His cheeks flushed and his smile broadened as he looked at the trinket resting in his hand-- a small, jade-colored figurine of the Ter'ossik Deity of healing, rumored by the natives of the planet to enhance the skills of medical practitioners. 

I hope Ryla likes this, he thought to himself.  Never one for collecting trinkets, K'Tan had purchased the statuette from a native vendor with the hopes that it would please the Arabella's vibrant Trill Doctor.  K'Tan wasn't sure what his feelings were for the perky woman, but she had been on his mind a lot lately... Something about her stirred feelings in him that he had thought long dead. 

Tucking the idol into a tunic pocket, K'Tan swore a silent oath to himself- He would simply let the Doctor know of his feelings for her; of his interest in taking their friendship to a more intimate level.  If she reciprocated his interest, great; if not, well, at least he could rest easy in the knowledge that he had tried.

K'Tan's reverie was interrupted by a sudden, jarring shift in the runabout's trajectory, accompanied by the simultaneous wailing of the ship's red-alert claxon.

What the hell? he thought.  Looking up, he was greeted by the sight of Commander Sevryll being engulfed by the familiar glow of a transporter beam; moments later, the beam dispersed, taking the commander with it. 

"Status Report!", he barked.

"We have a bit of a problem, sir," the shuttle pilot responded.  "The Arabella is currently under attack by a Borg sphere!"  The pilot glanced at her comm display.  "Commander Sevryll was beamed aboard to lead the ship's defense!" 

As the crew members around him gasped in terror, K'Tan's fists tightened on his seat's armrests. Under the pilot's expert guidance, the runabout executed a course change so drastic that it stressed the ship's inertial damping system, causing the passengers to sway in their seats. 

K'Tan risked a glance out the forward viewport, and his blood froze- bearing down on the runabout was the cold, soulless form of a Borg Sphere.  Seconds later, the sleek, gray form of the Arabella filled the screen, sweeping gracefully between the Runabout and the oncoming Sphere. 
Like a mother hawk protecting her nest, the Arabella faced down the sphere. 
K'Tan felt a moment of vicarious joy as the Arabella's forward phasers lanced out; twin beams of coherent energy raking across the hull of the Borg ship like the claws of an enraged sehlat, leaving sparks and the outgassing of atmosphere in their wake. 

K'Tan's joy was shortlived, however.  Seconds after the angry gashes were carved into the Borg ship, K'Tan was horrified to see the sphere's hull repairing itself.  Like a bit of time-lapsed photography, the damaged areas sealed, and soon looked as good as new.

Suddenly, K'Tan felt the familiar tingle of a transporter beam.  His view of his surroundings faded to white, and was abruptly replaced by a view of the interior of the Arabella's main shuttle bay.  He, the away team, and the entire Runabout had been transported into the relative safety of the ship! 

Springing from his chair, K'Tan bolted from the runabout and ran towards the turbolift. 

"Bridge!" he commanded as the doors slid closed.

D'Callan looked up at the lights flickering past. Feeling more at ease he straightened up and watched as the doors of the turbo lift opened. He walked out onto the bridge and quickly looked to his left as the second turbo lift opened and K'tan walked out. The two men looked at each other and nodded and stood next to each other to await their orders.

The bridge was a blur of motion as Chief Rava Ronan knelt down to check Ensign Thorne's pulse. The Ops Officer was dead. Ronan gently moved his body aside and took his place at the smoking, yet still functioning station. As Lieutenant James moved past him, on the way to the turbolift, Rava noticed the officer was unarmed. Luckily Rava had just come from a training sim on the holodeck, and still carried a side arm. "Sir!" he shouted and  tossed the phaser to the Second officer, who turned an alien face toward him and caught the weapon. Lieutenant Commander James' Ter'Ossick disguise was off putting, "I guess it would be too much to hope that his strange features would frighten the Borg off the ship", he thought.    Ronan turned back to his console then glanced to the viewscreen.  The weapons were down, and the Arabella was retreating. "How will we defeat the Borg now?"

There was little time for thought as the turbo lift descended. Quinn was missing the Borg were both on board and attacking them externally. Now he and the two security officers with him needed to hold the line and prevent any further loss of life.

"Aeric to Aurora," the commander said as he tapped his com badge. "Activate all defensive measures and notify me of any more incursions in the shuttle bays. Prepare to transport onboard pulse phaser pistols to my location at my command."

"Orders confirmed," repiled the feminine voice of the runabout. If need be, he would destroy the shuttle before allowing the Borg to assimilate it's techlonogies.

When the turbolift stopped at their selected deck, Aeric readied his weapon then looked to the security officers with him. Pulse phaser sidearms had been designed to pierce the shields of a drone, but as they were still untested in the field, they could mean the difference between life and death if they worked.

Aeric's eyes swept the corridor for signs of the Borg, but found nothing but empty hallways. Onboard sensors confirmed that their enemies were still several meters north of them.

"Move with purpose gentlemen. Rotate your phaser frequencies and let's get the Borg off our ship!"

"Aye sir," the men shouted with a confidence drilled into them by their very capable commanders. Aeric had no worries that they had been trained well, but he also suspected that they never faced the Borg. This would be a test for them as much as it would be for his theories for combating the enemy that slaughtered his mother's people.

K'ararth was surprised that he couldn't recall the last ten minutes of his life......

They had been aboard the Runabout when the alarm was sounded. The Borg. Before anyone could react, the shimmering effects of a cargo transporter beam and engulfed the small vessel and the materialized in the hanger deck. At least that much he could recall. Then the blood lust overcame him.....

He was 10 standard years old living aboard a very old K'Tinga class cruiser captained by his father, the son of the legendary Commander Kang, his grandfather. Although uncommon among Klingon crewed ships, this one had a few families aboard, a not so subtle indication of the lack of respect his father had among the Klingon Council. Son of a legend....a great disappointment. The sins of this father, of simply not being Kang, were visited upon the son. The other children mocked K'arath's slight stature and light colored hair. The blood lust had overcome him once then too and another young Klingon nearly died by his young hand. Never again, he had promised himself...

Until now. The Borg. There would be, could not be, any quarter give for there would be non reciprocated. His b'atleth was clenched his his sweating hands. How many times had he swung it? How many times had it found it's mark, cutting through the organic and cybernetic opposition which stood before him. It wasn't an energy weapon, they couldn't adapt and he allowed the blood lust to flow. Ten minutes of death had passed and he now found himself on deck 11 outside the doors to main engineering. They would be waiting for him here and he could not allow the Borg to control the heart of the ship. He steadied himself.....

Dr. Peterson materialized in the center of sickbay which was filled with acrid smoke from the short circuiting of medical equipment caused by the last attack on the ship., His staff was busy running back and forth across sickbay assessing the wounded as they began to flood sickbay. His heart sank as he saw the stretcher carrying the body of Ryla Drett, he hesitated for only a second before he grabbed a tricorder and began treating the wounded.

He glanced across the smoke filled room to see his wife, Myella working diligently to save a wounded crewman, Several crewmembers had phaser burns from being hit by Borg weapons and others had showed up with abrasions and broken bones from being tossed around like rag dolls.

Casey thought to himself, "This is going to be another long day" as he unconsciously clutched the phaser at his side.The one thing that Casey new about the Borg was that their attacks were very efficient and methodical and allot of people would die today unless they could somehow repell their attack.

Counselor Margon made his way through the corridors.   As smoke and screams filled the air panic ensued.  His head was swimming with fear and concern.   When the word "Borg" was uttered it  changed everything even the most prepared officer.   As the red alert klaxon rhythmically pulsed throughout the ship the frantic motions of all involved seemed chaotic at best.  Margon made his way to his quarters only to find two Borg drones scanning the door as he rounded the corner.  They had detected his hologrid and seemed to be studying the technology. 

"Surely they have holo technology" he thought.  "Wait, this is newer stuff than they have probably seen."

"Mr Mouse!" he whispered.   Even though he was not a fan of weapons, he pulled a hand phaser from his pack, adjusted the settings and charged the door.  With one shot he took out the first drone as it fell and lay kicking on the floor.  The second Borg turned and began to come at the Counselor. 

"No you don't!" Margon shouted as he fired again.  But this time the phaser had no effect.  The multiphasic shielding had adapted to the rotating frequency.  Margon threw the phaser at his attacker and it stopped the Borg for a moment as it bounced of the laser eyepiece of the intruder.  The door opened and the counselor rushed through it pushing the Borg to the ground. 

They both hit the ground hard and parts of the drone went flying off.  The counselor felt pain on his legs and chest as the borg armor was pointed and hard.  He scrambled up and sat on the attackers chest.

For a moment the counselor hesitated.  Then, as if in a playground fight, he began to go crazy on the drone.  He pulled wires, jabbed at openings on the armor and began to hit the head of the Borg on to the floor.  By this time they had slid into his quarters and the door had shut.  It actually appeared that the counselor was having success in disabling his attacker when he felt a burning sensation  at the base of his neck. 

"Ohhh Ahhhh!" the counselor yelled in pain.

The two probes had extended from the drone's arm and were piercing his neck. 

He felt a wave of nausea come over him.

"No, this can't happen!" he muttered.  He felt his hands around the drones neck squeezing.  The drone lost consciousness, as the counselor became dizzy.  His hands let free of the Borg and he fell off of the drones chest on to his side and quivered.  He could feel the nano probes coursing through his blood.  His mind became jumbled with panic and fear, yet in a strange way there was a logic to it all.  It was becoming ordered.  His eyelids became heavy and he couldn't move his limbs.  He could see the dead drone next to him, he could still hear the sounds of ship being assimilated, but he couldn't do a thing about it.  He was in his quarters removed from the direct battle and he was scared.

He could hear the meowing of Mr. Mouse, his cat by his ear.  The animal knew something was wrong, but in all it's efforts couldn't rouse the counselor.  He hopped over the Bolian and stared into his eyes nudging his face.  A tear rolled from Margon's eyes as everything faded black.

Back on the bridge, K'Tan braced himself against the bulkhead as the deck shook under his feet.  The forward viewscreen  strobed as the Borg continued their relentless onslaught, each shot straining the Arabella's shields to the breaking point.  K'Tan glanced to his side at Lt. D'Callen, then did a double take.  Unlike the remainder of the away team members, his friend's surgical alterations had been reversed; he seemed to be back to his old self. 

"How did you get your Ter'Oss disguise removed so quickly?" K'Tan asked.

D'Callen quirked a smile.  "I had a bit of an adventure down on Ter'Oss, and had to return to the ship early."  D'Callen gave K'Tan a friendly slap on the back.  "It's a long story, my friend; perhaps I can tell you about it later over a couple of pints." 

K'Tan nodded, and replied "Of course.  We'd probably better deal with our little infestation problem first."

K'Tan's gaze swept the bridge stations- each was currently occupied by frantically working crew members.  He started towards tactical, then stopped himself.  He was pleasantly surprised to see the station manned by his protege Lt. Otak.  Despite the crisis the ship faced, K'Tan managed a brief smile.  He'd always considered Otak to be something of a genius when it came to tactical systems, and lately, the junior officer had started to overcome his insecurities, becoming more and more comfortable assuming positions of leadership. 

K'Tan turned to address Commander Sevryll.  "The tactical station seems to be in good hands.  If it's alright with you, I think my talents would be best used dealing with our intruders."

"By all means; carry on," the XO replied. 

K'Tan turned to D'Callen.  "Come on, let's see if we can clear out some of the vermin."

As the pair jogged towards the turbolift, K'Tan cracked an evil grin. 

"Whoever takes out the fewest Borg buys the first round of drinks!"

The sound of alarms rang in Reese's ears, he looked down the hall for Fissual who was supposed to meet him there at the end of his shift in the lab. Up the hallway, down the hallway, no sign of him anywhere. What's going on Reese thought as the red light flashed in his eyes. Then the ship wide comm began to blare. The Borg he thought. He had never ever seen the Borg and began to get curious what was going on. He walked to the nearest screen to try to get a visual on the current situation.

"Computer,..." Before he could get another word in the systems came to a sudden halt and the light died. "Computer?" his nervous voice echoed in the dark hall. The hall shook around him. He caught his balance and stood there in the dark trying to find some sort of light. He heard footsteps from down the hall coming closer to him.

"Fissual, that you?" He looked into the dark of the noise and he knew it wasn't his furry friend. A bright red laser pieced the darkness.

He looked at the light, not sure exactly who or what it was. The Borg, is it the Borg? he thought. Then the voice he had never actually heard, but in recordings and nightmares, "You will be assimilated." There was no real thought in his next move, he just ran. Feeling his way down the dark corridors. He had no idea where he was going, he just knew he had to get away, but he didn't get far. Rounding the corner to the bright emergency light and the red laser of another drone. There for the first time did Reese see a real Borg. He tried to turn and run the other way. He had no means to fight and he didn't want to. He failed to get away, his sudden turn had caused him a lack of balance and he crashed onto the floor. His eyes turned to see two wire like needles emerge from the Borg's wrist.

Reese felt them dig into his neck. It was one of the most painful things he had ever felt. So this is how it ends he thought. The wires weren't in his neck a second before his fussy eyes saw a large monster of a man tackling the Borg. His focus was beginning to return, but he thought he was still in a state of confusion as he saw the Sasquatch smash the Borg to pieces. He wasn't sure what to make of it until  it was over and the hairy hand reaching down to him. "Reese?"

"Fissual!" Reese wasn't sure what was more surprising his friend the Sasquatch or the once Borg now scrap-metal. "What was that?"  He was shocked looking around them.

"Part of my family heritage, we like to wrestle each other a bit. It can get a bit ruff sometimes thought."

"A bit ruff?! Remind me never to make you angry." Reese looked at Fissual then down at the Borg remains, "I'm just glad you're on my side. I don't know what I'd do if you had showed when you did."

"Well I couldn't let you die, who would I talk to."

Commander Sevryll steadied herself as the ship rocked from yet another volley. The planet Ter'Oss shrank on the viewscreen as they moved away at impulse speed. Yet the sphere still pursued them and Borg Drones transported aboard before shields could be raised. The Arabella's weapons were off-line, shield strength was steadily decreasing and warp was not available.  If the Vulcan considered superstition to be anything other than a set of irrational beliefs, Sevryll would have believed the crew to be cursed with bad luck....

Locks of tousled blue Ter'Osick hair, fell from the bronze fastener she wore at the nape of her neck.  The Vulcan pushed a loose strand behind an elongated prosthetic ear and pointed a blue finger at the console before her. "An Asteroid belt is located here. The irons, stony-irons, and chordates that make up the rubble, are magnetized." She turned amber eyes to meet Zremm 's concerned expression. "How long would the sphere's sensors be affected by the magnetic field, before they're able to compensate for the disruption?" She glanced up at his shock of white hair and noted the nervous position of his antennae. "An approximation will suffice, Zremm," said the Vulcan in a supportive tone. She had known the Andorian for years. They met at a Logic Conference on her homeworld, and it was Zremm's fascination with Surakian philosophy that became the catalyse of their unique friendship. When the need for an Assistant Chief Science Officer arose, the Andorian's inquisitive nature and rational mind were the traits Sevryll considered first, before she offered the position to him. It was in times like these that she was most appreciative that he accepted her offer. 

His antennae pivoted forward in thought, and after a moment replied in a non-committal tenor,  "fifty minutes at most."

Would that be long enough to make the necessary repairs and devise a plan of attack? They had no other option. "Helm, set course for the asteroid belt. Take us in carefully, we can not afford to lose anymore shielding."

The new image on the viewscreen gradually grew in size as they arrived at their destination. The churning grinder of maverick rock enveloped them as they slipped inside the field. Colossal asteroids  rotated slowly about them while smaller bits of rock, filling the spaces in between, slammed into one another—creating an infinite number of micro-fragments. The fragments grazed the vessel's shields, casting a blue glow upon the asteroids surrounding them, as the Arabella swam into the sea of stone.

"Use the tractor beam to redirect larger asteroids toward the sphere." Sevryll was aware that the Borg would simply divert the course of the rubble, but if the rock collided with others... the sphere could be crushed between ricocheting projectile mountains. The Borg would have to be diligent in their response and it was her hope that their focus would turn from offense to defense.  They were taking a huge gamble that the Borg would slip up. But with weapons systems down, it was the only option they had to defend themselves.  If they were "lucky", it would buy them the time necessary to repair the damaged Arabella. 

Ensign Took was walking through Engineering preparing his report for the returning K'arath when the klaxons began to wale. As the walls started to flash red, crewmembers went into action securing their stations. The calm voice of Commander Sevryll could be heard. "Attention all hands, we have been boarded by the Borg. All non-essential hands clear Decks Six, Seven, Eleven, and Thirteen.... All security trained personnel, secure these decks." You could see the panic start to take hold. The ship was rocked back and forth as the Borg fired upon the Arabella. Nic knew what he must do. He started spouting off commands. "Secure the warp core... we need weapons back up... divert all unnecessary power to the shields... secure all jeffiestubes.." A loud banging could be heard coming from the main engineering door. "Arm yourself" Nic said as the doors to engineering were torn open and several Borg drones entered.

Aria James stood alone in the Arabella, looking into the recently opened weapons locker. On her hip, she added a pulse phaser pistol to the daggers that already rested there. They were designed to not only have  an automatic random modulation of the phaser frequencies, but they were created with the idea of defeating personal shields. On her other hip, she carried a medical tricorder that was modified to work in concert with her mental abilities.

"Personal log," she said aloud. "I have gathered the tools I need and activated the counterstrike programming of my nanobots. Rory has Elizabeth safely protected in my father's quarters, but I have suggested that they move to the Aurora as soon as possible. Shortly, I will begin to move towards the last known locations of the twins. I fear for them as the Aurora has lost contact with the holosphere being used by their protector. I have enabled the counterstrike programming of my nanobots. I am sure that they will serve to combat the Borg on a nanoscale level, but the Borg will not keep me from them. Hopefully I can bring them back here safely. End Log."

Joint post by HawkeyeMeds, BryanCD and wraith1701

The turbo lift doors swished open on deck 11, and K'Tan and D'Callan ran through towards engineering. 

K'Tan couldn't help but note that the normally soothing corridors of the Arabella had taken on a decidedly nightmarish flavor- the dim lighting, accompanied by the constant strobing of the red-alert, made him feel as though he were stepping into Grethor, the Klingon Hell.  This impression was strengthened by the occasional cries of terror and shrieks of pain echoing in the distance.  It was evident that the Borg were wreaking havoc throughout the ship, assaulting both the Arabella and her crew.  K'Tan bit back the urge to rush to his crewmates aid; the most pressing need right now was to secure engineering.  If the heart of the ship were to fall, all hands aboard would be doomed.

As K'Tan and D'Callan approached the main doors to engineering, they spied Lt. K'arath.  The Klingon Chief Engineer still sported his Ter'Ossik disguise.  Like a mighty ebon tower of barely contained wrath, he stood before the doors, and beckoned the pair forward.  His massive bat'leth dripped with gore, and a coiled piece of Borg hung from one of the handles.  K'arath turned towards the two officers and a broad warrior smile engulfed his face. 

K'Tan slapped his hand on his fellow Klingon's shoulder, and eyed the ichor covered blade.

"It looks like you've been busy!"

D'Callan's eyebrows raised.  The Chief Engineer's already fearsome visage was intensified by his surgical alterations- his piercing, yellow eyes shone from his midnight-black face with the intensity of a laser.   D'Callan glanced from K'arath to K'Tan.  "You Klingons, you should be in a Shakespeare play."  He glanced at the blade in K'arath's hand.  "We'll need to have similar weapons. The bat'leth is ideal against the Borg."

K'arath nodded in agreement.  "We must secure Main Engineering or the Borg will be able to control all ship systems."

"We might need some help," K'Tan added.  He looked at D'Callan, who tapped his com badge.

"D'Callan to Dunn.  We need you outside engineering."

Dunn's voice echoed through.

"On my way sir. Good to see that you're back on your feet."

K'Tan threw D'Callan a look of inquiry;  the Security Chief simply winked at his look of confusion.

"We need bladed weapons, Dunn.  Bring the weapons from the away mission, anything sharp will do."

Dunn responded in the affirmative, and the communication went dead.

K'arath kicked the door with his boot in frustration, then pointed at a series of scratches and scorch marks marring the edges.  "It looks like the Borg have already made it here.  I believe they may have forced their way in, then sealed the door behind them to keep us out."    

As if to confirm his words, a loud crash and the muffled yell of Lt.Took rang out from behind the doors.

K'arath turned to his comrades, his expression grim.

"We need to get in there now."

All three men looked at each other, and nodded.  After pausing to brace himself, K'Tan whirled and lashed out with his left foot, his boot shattering the access panel beside the doorway.  Reaching into the smoking, sparking mess of exposed wires and ODN conduits, he yanked free two cables.  As he pressed the exposed ends together, the corridor was briefly lit by a flash of electricity; there was a sizzling SNAP and he was thrown violently into the opposite wall of the hallway.

The twin doors slowly parted four inches, then ground to a halt.

K'Tan shook his head, and shakily got up off of the floor, wisps of smoke rising from his hair.  He gave the air a sniff.

"Either of you smell something burning?"

Suddenly, to the right of D'Callan, the hum and glow of a transporter beam sprung to life.  The beam faded, revealing the lanky form of  Dunn.  He held out a staff with an ax style head and K'Tan took it, giving it an experimental swing.

"It will have to do."

D'Callan looked at Dunn for his weapon and Dunn held out a small club.  It too was made of wood and had metal spikes.

"Is this it?"  D'Callan asked.   "Hand to hand for me then boys.  Lets go."

The four men grasped the edges of the partially opened doors and heaved.  Within moments, the doors were forced back into their wall recesses, revealing the darkened engine room.  Grey smog billowed out as two Borg turned to regard them, the red beams of their ocular implants shining through the haze.  The four officers came together, looked at each other, then shouted as they ran in.

D'Callan ran to the right and ducked under the red implant light and swung his club into the metal shaft of one of the Borgs legs, stumbling the beam came down and shone into D'Callans eye temporarily blinding him, the Borgs wire shot out of its hand towards D'Callans neck but just as contact was made the wired infused hand shattered. Dunn had timed it perfectly and as the Borg attempted to steady itself the Bat'leth of K'arath glided smoothly through its skull. D'Callan jumped up and quickly looked at Dunn.

"I owe you that sir"

D'Callan shouted at Dunn,

"Fair play Ensign, now lets keep going"

The two men turned to see three more drones walking towards them, D'Callan checked to his left and saw K'tan expertly glide his axe through a Borgs spine, sparks and pieces of metal covered him and he looked like a welder from the ship yard days. Glancing to his right he saw Took lying on the floor. Joseph shouted at K'Tan and K'Arath and pointed at the unconcious engineer. The roar of the two Klingon's filled engineering and D'Callan knew that this was going to be a dangerous fight, he felt his body fill with adrenalin and ran with Dunn, weapons raised at the oncoming Borg.

K'ararth paused above the prone figure of Lieutenant Took. He kneeled down and turned Took's head to the side. His neck had no markings on it to indicate an assimilation infection. Took's eye's opened slightly.

"Sir..." Took rasped, "We held the line as best we...." and unconsciousness claimed him again.

"Brave warrior," K'ararth said with a smile.

He stood up and could see K'Tan and D'Callan engaged with the last 2 drones. He rushed forward, dropping one of the attackers at the knees and delivering an overhanded blow to it's chest. The coppery smell of spilt blood mixed with that of burnt circuitry. D'Callan's club stunned another attacker and K'Tan promptly decapitated the drone. Engineering was secure. K'arath looked around at the carnage. He saw some of his own staff among the bodies. Some were dead, some were worse even than that. The three men knew what had to be done.

Quinn lay on the cold metal table. He was conscious and aware but kept his eyes closed to listen to his surroundings. He heard movement around him but didn't dare open his eyes. At the moment nothing was happening to him and the more information he could gather the better he would be. Nathan was still unclear on how this all happened. How could Nic be assimilated so quickly and he be transported to a Borg cube without any warning. Quinn reached out with his mind and connected with the Borg collective. Millions of voices talking at once, it was deafening. He slowly started to filter out the noise until he heard one voice that was louder then the rest. This male voice was issuing commands. Nathan couldn't be sure but it sounded as if they were in the middle of a battle. They had taken heavy damage to their aft section. Quinn could feel the Borg's unified consciousness focusing on the repairs, it was incredible. He probed a bit further into the mind of this Borg that was giving orders until something that he wasn't expecting happened. The male voice spoke to him, not in his mind but verbally. Quinn slowly opened his eyes to see that he was in the middle of an assimilation chamber.  As he looked around for the voice it spoke again. "Glad to see that you are awake.. Captain". Quinn sat up and noticed that he wasn't wearing any clothing. "Who are you?" he said looking around.  "I am the Borg". Quinn shook his head, "the Borg are many, you are one." The cool voice echoed in the assimilation chamber, " I am many, I am one, I am all".  Quinn sat there confused as he knew that the Borg had a Queen that commanded all Borg's but this was a male voice, could it be a Borg King? "Show yourself," Quinn demanded.

Casey worked feverishly to stay on top of the casualties and wounded, as fast as he patched one person up, another took their place, Dr. Peterson began to wonder if he would be able to stay on top of the situation. Crew were lined up out the door to sickbay and kept coming gobbling up what limited space was left in sickbay.

Every member of his staff was occupied trying desperately to stay on top of the growing number of wounded.

Dr. Peterson stopped momentary " computer activate the  EMH program" the computer responded in its monotone voice "The EMH program is currently offline".  Dr. Petersons frustration was evident on his face as was the sweat that was accumulating on his forehead.

Dr. Peterson continued his work assessing the injuries as they came in and categorizing those injuries that were urgent over the minor ones that could wait. Peterson wondered how many of the crew would be left standing after the Borg were finished with them and wondered how many of them would be repeat customers.

JOINT POST BY WRAITH1701, BRYANCD & HAWKEYEMEDS

K'ararth looked over at K'Tan. The two command officers exchanged a look which spoke volumes. Lt. Took was not seriously harmed and he now struggled to stand. There were three other members of K'arath's staff who were not as fortunate, the Borg nanite infection clearly visible on their skin.

D'Callan saw the two officers looking towards each other and his blood ran cold.

"Now, we don't know if they can't still be saved," he reasoned.

"True," K'Tan said.  "Computer; lock onto crewmen.." He paused, and looked to K'arath.

"Frakes, Smith, and Maryweather," K'arath supplied.  "All three were honorable, hardworking officers.  They deserve better than this."

"Lock onto officers Frakes, Smith, and Maryweather," K'Tan continued.  "Beam them directly to sick-bay!"

"Unable to comply," came the disembodied response.  "All non-essential systems- power has been routed to main shields.  Transporters are currently off-line."

"Well, we can't just carry them like there like this," said K'Tan.  If they succumb to the nanites en-route, they could infect us all!"

K'ararth took a deep breath and was about to agree when a hand shot out and grabbed the blade while another hand went for his leg. Catching the Klingon by suprise K'ararth stumbled back, just ast the phaser blast shot past killing the infected crewman instantly. D'Callan and Dunn spun round to see Took holding the weapon.

K'tan lifted Tooks free hand over his shoulder and lifted him up.

K'ararth looked up from his dead crewman and shouted at the team.

"Do what you have to do, secure them if need be, kill them if they are too far gone. We cannot afford to waist anymore time"

There was a sudden screech of phaser-fire; the two stricken crewmen were briefly engulfed in a red-orange glow, and then slumped to the deck, unconscious.

K'Tan, K'arath, and D'Callan all turned to see ensign Dunn calmly holstering his sidearm.   "That should keep them quiet for a while," Dunn said with a grin.

"Excellent thinking, Dunn!" D'Callan exclaimed.  "We'll make a lieutenant out of you yet!"

With K'Tan holding Took and D'Callan and Dunn carrying the two stricken crewmen they followed K'ararth towards the turbo lift and headed towards sick bay.

A subroutine within a system...this is what he had been reduced to. After a year of enjoying the benefits of a permanent emitter orb, he was once again a collection of algorithms confined to a computer. It was difficult to adjust to the disembodied sensation after occupying a living, breathing form for so long.

An instant before he vanished from the lounge, and a heartbeat before Ryla Drett bore her fatal wound, the hologram known as Dennis flowed into the ship's mainframe. Ordinarily, this action would be impossible due to the safeguards in place to prevent such intrusions. But the Borg pierced the dedicated appliance, which typically denied access to unauthorized individuals, and permitted his admittance without protest.

He could sense Borg coding spilling around him. "This is looking more and more dire," he thought after a series of anomalous functions within his program produced a feeling of anxiety. If he had them, he would have clinched his fists.

Though disoriented from the transfer, Dennis instantly began monitoring the data that the sensors in the lounge gathered. The moment the events were recorded, they notified him that a Trill had been injured and that one vulcanoid child was transported off the Arabella. He was relieved to find that M'Rynn was safe, for now...he would continue to monitor her status. Yet despite his incorporeal state, he felt anguish for the boy and then sorrow as the detection devices indicated that the Trill Bio signs were no longer measurable. The doctor had fought so hard to defend the twins, and she ultimately gave her life in the attempt. Her lifeless body now rested in the only place available within main sickbay... her untidy office.

The data he received from the lounge sensors, specified that Doctor Drett was cut down by friendly fire. A pulse from a type two phaser had killed her. Dennis analyzed the signature of the rifle and took note of the officer that the weapon was issued to. He then transferred the data to Sickbay and Security before sending a message to Rory, who was yet another hologram currently inhabiting the Aurora in the Main Shuttlebay.

Alien code bumped against his own, causing his program to lag slightly. He grumbled a series of colorful words and focused on his next objective— the computer's internal defenses. The sentinel hologram known as Dennis, would take perverse pleasure in fouling the Borg algorithms.

As the deck plating shook under his boots, Lieutenant Zremm tried to catch his balance on a nearby hand railing.  The Arabella was moving cautiously through the asteroid field and it did seem to be slowing down the progress of the Borg vessel pursuing them.  Zremm continued to scan the field in order to feed updated tactical and better navigation data to helm control.  So far the plan seemed to be working.  The ship had quieted slightly, and an almost eerie silence covered the bridge which had been in chaos just a short time ago.  However, his mind drifted as he stared at his work station thinking about his morning with Marie.

"Are you sure you are feeling up to reporting to engineering today Marie?  I know this pregnancy hasn't been the easiest so far for you."  Zremm said as he watched the earth woman that he loved adjust the collar of her uniform tunic. 

"I'm fine, Ch'Fras.  Besides if I tell them I'm not feeling well again K'ararth will just suggest another one of his Klingon home remedies for morning sickness.  And the last one he suggested made me sicker than the baby, just by watching it wiggle on the plate!"  Marie said with a light laugh as she pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail.  Zremm loved hearing Marie laugh and it made him smile and usually laugh as well.  Something he had not done a lot of in his life.

"Well, ok then.  I'm sure they could use your help down there.  I know they have been having a slight problem with the warp field calibration sensors.  Which I happen to know is your 'other little baby.'  And you know, maybe you should stop off at your quarters and pick up a few more things and bring them here after you get off duty.  There's enough room and since you've been staying here I've gotten used to finding your uniforms hanging in the bathroom - or tripping over your big boots.  Hehe!"  The tall Andorian said as Marie gave him a sly smirk and walked over close to him.

"My boots are not big, blue boy.  Besides, this place is going to get even more crowded when the baby comes.  Now, come here."  Marie said as Zremm bent down to kiss her.

"Zremm!?  Zremm, report!"  Commander Sevryll's voice called out and brought the lieutenant back to the present.

"Ahh, we seem to be evading the Borg ship at present commander.  The asteroid field is definitely causing them trouble with their targeting sensors."  Zremm said.

"Very good lieutenant, keep me posted.  Engineering has been secured, but they lost some personnel to the Borg.  Don't worry Zremm, Marie is fine.  I need you focused and here Zremm."  Sevryll said to her old friend.

"Yes sir, commander.  I won't let you down."  Zremm said, as a sigh of relief washed over him.

"I'd expect nothing less.  Now, we need to come up with a plan.  This cat and mouse situation won't last forever.  Once main power is back online, I want a way out of this situation.  Let's get to work."  Sevryll said as she worked to keep her emotions in check as well as she had asked her Andorian friend to do. 

joint post by HawkeyeMeds, BryanCD, and wraith1701


It didn't take long for the four officers to get to sick bay. Movement was frantic, and on the floor lay several Borg and one security officer. D'callan looked down as he carried the injured engineer.

"Damn; Ensign Patrick."

K'arath was the first in and placed his ensign on the floor, he could see there was no room on any of the spare beds.

"I'm heading back to engineering; there's lot of damage that needs repairing."

K'Tan nodded and stepped back as K'arath ran out.  He carefully  placed Took near Ryla's office door and turned to nurse Caine.

"Where's Dr. Drett?"

Susan glanced up from the injured patient she was working on.

"K'Tan. Oh my, look I'm afr......"

An explosion blasted through the outside wall near the turbo lift and Dunn fell to the floor.  He looked back to see a Borg hand emerging from the ruined wall.

"Borg, three o'clock!"

K'Tan and D'callan ran towards the Borg. D'Callan lifted his club and hit the arm but was greeted with a green force-shield.

"Damn it. They have adapted to even these weapons!"

The two men stood back and Joseph looked around.  On the floor was a shredded power cable, sparks bounced from it making it writhe around like a snake. He looked at the hole in the wall and slowly three Borg began to emerge. Timing it he pointed to K'Tan who goaded the Borg out.  Just as all three where huddled together D'callan dived to the floor, throwing the cable into the drones and causing a huge power surge.

Standing back up he smiled at K'Tan who quickly spoke first.

"Don't say it"

D'Callan walked past him smiling.

"Shocking, positively shocking"

K'Tan shook his head as D'Callan left the hallway and headed back to Deck 15; suddenly he popped his head back round the corner.

"Oh, and those three are on my count, so beers on you."

Before K'Tan could argue D'callan was gone.

Smiling to himself, K'Tan silently shook his head, then turned to nurse Cain.  "I'm heading back to the bridge to relive the tactical officer on duty.  Can you tell Dr. Drett that I came by, and would like to speak with her once this crisis has passed?"

Nurse Cain stared silently at K'Tan, her lower lip trembling as a tear slowly made it's way down her face.  "K'Tan; I'm so sorry.."

As the implications of Ryla's absence from sickbay dawned on him, K'Tan's blood turned to ice, and time seemed to slow to a crawl...

They ran down the hallway towards their quarters.

"We have to secure the ship, it's first priority." Reese said as they approached the door. They quickly entered. They both went to grab their phasers. Reese grabbed it and attached it to his side. He thought about the Borg and what they were. He felt his neck where the two holes were already beginning to seal themselves. He hoped he wasn't infected. He wondered how long it would take for a few Borg nanos to take over his body. "Maybe we should stop by the Sick Bay."

"We have to secure the ship first. We're not mortally damaged, Reese. After the ship is secured then we worry about our own wounds." Fissual grabbed a knife out of one of his draws.

Reese noticed it shine as it entered the light, "A knife?" Reese looked at the little silver blade, "What's that for?"

"It's back up when my phaser becomes useless." Fissual strapped the knife to his side.

"Useless?" Reese didn't know much about the Borg, only that they were a collective of biometric drones, "Why would my phaser become useless."

"The Borg will adapt to our phaser fire. If you got a knife better grab it."

"I got one better." Reese reached down into the little space between the bed and his small box of things. He pulled out the long sheath that housed his sword. "Will this work?"

Fissual eyed it with a slightly startled feel, "You've had a sword in here the whole time."

"No I brought it from home on my return."

"Oh," Fissual thought about the usefulness of a sword against the Borg, "Yeah, that will work great."

Reese slung the sword onto his back. "We ready to do this?"

"Yeah," Fissual gave Reese a very eager smile, "Lets go on a rampage."

Manning the bridge's tactical station, Lt. Otak paused to wipe the sweat from his brow.  The commander's decision to take the ship into the asteroid field seemed to be buying the ship some time.  So far, the Borg hadn't shortened the distance separating them from their fleeing prey.

Otak took a hitching breath and slowly exhaled, trying vainly to dispel some of the stress and anxiety that he was feeling.  His thoughts drifted back to his old engineering accident, and the prosthetic arm it had left him with.  After being irreparably damaged by a reactor coolent leak, the limb had been replaced by a state-of-the-art duplicate.  Although constructed of various alloys and ceramic composites, the arm was sheathed in a sleeve of synthetic skin that gave it a life-like appearance.  The arm was so real-looking that at times, Otak could almost forget that this vital part of his anatomy was mechanical.

Almost.

Unfortunately, with the ship being attacked by half-machine, half organic invaders, the reality of his situation was foremost on his mind.

It's ironic, he thought to himself.  Here I am, afraid of being turned into a machine, and I'm already halfway there anyway!

Otak glanced down at his fist as it gripped the side of his LCARS display.  The matte gray housing of the display was marred by a thin, spiderweb pattern of cracks radiating out from beneath his hand.  At some point during the battle, he had apparently lost control of his strength governors, accidentally crushing the plastic casing.  Otak forced his fingers to release their grip, and slowly lowered his hand to his side.  He marshaled his strength and stomped down on the hysterical giggle struggling to make it's way past his lips. 

The commander and the crew are depending on me, he thought.  I've got to keep it together!

D'Callan ran into his security office and began scanning the monitor. Bleeping in the left hand corner was a message, he quickly clicked onto it and read the message, some of it out loud.

"Dennis? hmmm. Oh lord no not Ryla. Friendly fire, Talon Bowers. Damn it."

Joseph punched the monitor screen with his fist as he thought of the Doctor who had been reassuring him only a few hours earlier, and what of K'Tan. He shook his head, he must concentrate on the security of the ship.

Tapping his communication he announced his orders.

"D'callan to all security. Engineering and sick bay is clear for ship action. Kelly and Morgan stay on the bridge and cover both turbo lift doors, under no circumstances leave these posts unless instructed by myself or the acting Captain. Ray take a post on deck 3 and cover the emergency ladder to the bridge, we don't want anyone using that. Coleman and Wood I am sealing all corridors with the internal forcefield on deck 10, man the field and keep watch. Hayes, Murdock, Rutherford and Powell turn the mess hall into the emergency intensive care, you've done the training now do the practical. All other security keep up the good work, i'll be with you shortly. Joseph ran to the armoury and took out several phasers and rifles and adjusted some of the settings advised by K'tans tactical team, nodding to the two security staff on watch he ran out. A twinge gave in his stomach and looked down to see a small patch of blood.

"D'Callan to Comander Sevryll. Security management echo 2 and echo 5 has now been put in place. Turbo lifts and security ladder to the bridge has now been locked down until you override. D'Callan out"

D'calln ran out and headed to the turbo lift.

Joint post by Jen and Meds:

D'Callan ran round the corner and aimed his rifle at an oncoming Borg. Adjusting the settings to a 1 second cycle, he fired. The blast shot straight through the drone's head.  A beam came from behind and sparked against the bulkhead in front of him. Falling to the deck, he rolled over to see another Borg towering over him. The rifle was out of reach, so D'Callan clenched his fist ready to fight. The right arm of the Borg moved towards him, but before it could lay a pincher on him, a sudden power surge fried the attacker. Rolling out of the way of the falling body, D'Callan noticed a flashing panel on the wall where the surge originated. Slowly getting up, he studied the display. In a bold typeface the words "you're welcome," pulsed on the screen.

"Thanks..." he replied.

The words were replaced by a new sentence, "consider the sizzling drone a virtual handshake. I'm Dennis."


"Right, OK. 'Dennis'. You sent me the report regarding the death of Ryla Drett, didn't you?"

The words flashed again,"go to a monitor around the corner."

The panel darkened as the words disappeared from the screen. D'Callan glanced about the empty corridor then jogged to the engineering monitor. Dennis waited for him to arrive before spelling out his next line of communication.

"I have accessed the ships systems and I am monitoring Borg movements."

"That's all very well and good, but all I know is that your name is 'Dennis'.  Who the hell are you?"

If Dennis had a face, he would have flexed his jaw.

"I am a sentinel hologram programmed to protect Sevryll and her children. My holoemitter was damaged during a skirmish in the lounge. I had to enter the mainframe to survive."

D'Callan raised his eyebrow.

"You're the commander's nanny? Ok Jeeves, what's..."

Before Lieutenant D'Callan could finish his sentence, bold red letters streamed onto the screen, "NO. I'm a SENTINEL. Can't you people get that in your heads?"

"Right. Sorry mate. You were in the lounge with Ryla and the children weren't you?"

The question was too hard to answer. Dennis ignored it and with a thought, entered another line of communication. "The Arabella is not lost, but each of her decks now has Borg swarming it."

D'callan looked about quickly, before continuing his conversation with the monitor. "Engineering and Main Sickbay have been secured. I've locked down all access to the bridge and we have activated internal force fields in several sections."

"I know... I'm in the computer, remember?" Replied Dennis sarcastically. "Most of these drones are your crewmembers. If it were me, I'd just kill them all..." Dennis stopped himself. N'Vall had been taken by the Borg. He couldn't kill the boy, and if he couldn't end the toddler's life, the crew would have trouble killing any drone they recognized as a fellow crewmate. "We can't dispatch them all... We'll have to power them down so they can each be reclaimed. It will take a while, but I'm sure the doctors have some way of removing implants." The words disappeared from the screen for a moment as Dennis considered a plan of attack. An instant later the monitor began to rapidly scroll new information. "The Borg are creating clusters of alcoves on each deck with a Borg computer console at the end. They need thirty megawatts of energy to run. Since engineering is secured... maybe I can work with that department to divert the power, and starve the Borg of the energy they need to keep going. It won't be an instant solution, but if it works, you'll have your ship and crew back. Of course, you'll need to collect the Borg in one area so the docs can do their thing."

D'Callan looked round and bit his lip then turned back to the monitor. He stared at the words for a moment before speaking.

"If you can do what you say you can, then we had best get busy. I'll introduce you to K'arath and Took."


The lieutenant pivoted on his feet and ran back the way he had just come. When he reached a cross-section, he looked back at the paneling on the wall.

"You still with me mate?"

The panel flashed a "yes".

"Good... do us a favor, warn me of anything that may be around the corner and we'll do a little skip along"

The security officer darted through corridors and dove into the Jeffries tubes to stay away from drones. All the way Dennis monitored his movements from the computer. After some time, D'Callan dropped from a service hatch and landed in the middle of Sickbay, catching his own security staff off guard.

"Gonna have to do some more training with you two aren't I?" he smirked.

Joseph  saw Lieutenant Took sitting up holding his arm on the opposite side of the room. The Security Chief pushed passed his baffled security personnel and approached the injured engineering officer. Lieutenant D'Callan pointed at the wall where the words: "I'd say 'good day', but it ain't... so I won't," appeared on the screen. Took glanced at Joseph with a puzzled expression then turned back to the panel as another sentence scrolled on to the screen, "I understand you have an infestation..." Joseph D'Callan wasted no time on filling the young Lieutenant in on who Dennis was, and what their plan happened to be. A grin grew over the engineer's face as Lieutenant D'callan slapped the young man's back. An instant later, the two men hurried out of Sickbay and headed towards engineering.

Nathan sat there naked on the cold hard metal table waiting for this bodiless voice to show himself. The situation was dire as he had no way of escape and even if he could he had no idea where he was. Minutes passed though it felt like hours before he heard several footsteps coming up from behind. As he turned two Borg drones stopped and stood in front of him.  Quinn sat there in awe as these two Borg drones began to configure themselves in a way that as they stepped closer together their two bodies started to merge into one.  It was though these two Borg drones were puzzles pieces and before Quinn knew it the two Borg drones had become one large headless Borg body. 

From the void above Quinn heard the voice again. "I do not take physical form very often, you should feel very honor by this." The voice said as the head and neck were lowered onto the large Borg body. As the neck reached the body Quinn could hear a loud snap as the cords holding the head released. The large Borg rolled his head around on his shoulders and moved his arms as if testing this new body. He turned to Quinn who had a look of shock on his face. Though the man's face was half covered in cybernetics, Nathan still recognized him as someone he knew very well. "Captain Picard??", Quinn said in a whisper of shock. The Borg shook his head "No... I am Locutus, King of the Borg."

Dr. Peterson held the damaged heart in his hands, he could feel the rhythmic pulse of its laboured beats, he had used the laser scalpel with the precision of a true artist to repair the young engineers ruptured Aorta which was caused by exploding electrical conduits from a Borg Pulse weapon.

Casey placed the heart back in the chest cavity and watched as blood started to flow through the repaired Aorta, it looked as if the sutures would hold. The Doctor worked quickly to repair the rest of the injuries the young engineer had sustained, a few broken bones and plasma burns were taken care of quickly by the dermal regenerator.

Dr. Peterson issued a few orders to his assisting nurse before heading over to his next surgery, he was tired but kept going. He was proud of his staff, many of them were saddened by the death of Ryla as was he, as she had saved his life when he had contracted the deadly virus made by Dr. Lucas.

The loss of Ryla was one that would be hard to replace and he sure wished that she was with him now, as the casualties just kept coming and their seemed that their would be little relief in sight.

Peterson had all shifts working and sickbay still had a hard time keeping up with the onslaught of casualties that were now coming in from all decks.

He new when this was over he would have the arduous duty of performing Ryla's autopsy and felt sorry for the poor security officer who would have to answer for her accidental death.

Casey sighed as he thought of how he would inform her next of kin of her bravery and death in the line of duty, this was certainly the one part of the job that he disliked greatly. He was glad that for the moment he had other things to occupy his time, but knew that this was only delaying the unfortunate duty that he would have to eventually perform.

Aria James ended the cyberpathic communications with her father and continued down the corridor lit by flickering lights. With a pulse phaser in one hand and a tricorder in the other, she paused at the intersection. To the left of her lay three crew members in the process of assimilation. Once vibrant flesh had taken on the sickly gray hue of advanced infection.

Aria kneel near the closest of the fallen and released her nano tubule. On contact with the temple of the young Bajorian woman, her systems injected several micrograms of counter-assimilation nanobots. While the Borg infection had a significant advantage in number, Aria's nanites were designed to combat and convert any Borg nanoprobes entering a host brain. The idea was to keep the mind free of infection and it would be easier to cure the body.

Seven crew members had already received injections on her path to the lounge. The three before her would make that ten. If her numbers were accurate, that was almost ten percent of the crew that she had encountered. She couldn't begin to guess what the actual numbers were.

She only knew that it needed to end soon. The loss of any further crew would limit the ability to operate the ship.

"Aria to Aeric," she said as she tapped her communicator. "From initial observation, I believe that we are losing too many people to the Borg, if we don't get this under control soon, we are going to lose the ship."

"What do you recommend?" asked her father over the open communication channel.

"If we reprogram the nanite stores on the Aurora to combat Borg nanoprobes and then release it through the venting systems, we might be able to delay further infection." Aria said as she mentally calculated the available information.

"We need someone to get to the Aurora to do the reprogramming and then we need to transport the nanites to the main vent junction." Aeric said between phaser fire.

"Understood," she replied. "I'll try to meet up with them at the shuttle bay. I haven't made much progress, but I'm about to enter the lounge."

"Confirmed." Aeric said. "I'll see who's available to help."

Nurse Susan Caine leaned over ensign Bardolph, her hand stayed as steady as a rock and she quickly glanced up at Dr Petersen who in turn caught her eye and the gentle nod from the Dr gave her the confidence boost she desperately needed. She'd lost count on how many crewmen had been seen but so far they had only lost two, Security officer Patrick and her companion Ryla Drett. The sick bay was full and the make shift emergency room in the mess hall set up by security was beginning to accept patients.
Out of the corner of her eye movement from the white covered shroud of ensign Patrick began to move.

Susan spun round to see the white shrouded body Ensign Patrick sitting up in bed, blood began to seep through the cloth and backing back shock suddenly came over her. Her scream echoed round sick bay causing everyone to look at her. Her eyes squeezed shut and she began to punch out at the hands that came round her.

"Susan, SUSAN. Its me Myella."

Susan slowly opened her eyes and gazed into the face of Dr Myella Peterson. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the once upright bleeding body of Ensign Patrick was lying back down, clean and very much still.

"I, I saw something Dr. Patrick was, was sitting up"

Dr Peterson looked over her shoulder and back at Nurse Susan Caine.

"You know he is dead Susan. Look your tired. Go and take five"

Susan smiled at the Dr.

"I'm fine, phew. Its been a long slog. I'll be fine Myella, really. I'd prefer to keep busy"

Myella held her shoulders.

"We have work to do Susan, but i need you on 100%. If you begin to falter go rest. UNDERSTAND"

Susan nodded and turned back to the patient she was working on. Putting all her medical training into gear she tried to ignore the decaying skull of a goat that hovered above her patients head.

Joint post by Jen and Just X

Commander James smiled to himself as he and his team managed to complete securing Deck Six from the Borg invaders. It was one of the few pleasures that he allowed himself given the state of the ship and his family. Aria had just contacted him, but she was still in Borg held portions of the ship. Rory and Beth were safe aboard the Aurora in the as of yet compromised Shuttle Bay Three. Several of the Borg invaders had been severely damaged by the lower settings of the pulse phasers, but disabled was a long way from being destroyed. The battle that they waged was also far from being won.

"Sir," Ensign Jackson, one of the young human security officers that had accompanied the acting XO from the bridge, said as he turned to Aeric, "if you are ready to head back to the bridge, we can handle things from here."

Aeric nodded and holstered his pulse phaser. "Thank you ensign. Contact Lieutenant D'Callen and get new orders. I'll be on the bridge."

Arranging a site-to-site transport via Rory and Aurora, Aeric materialized on the bridge in a unique pulse of light that signified transport via his ship's transporters. He nodded to himself as he looked over the dedicated crew working hard at their stations to weather the current crisis.

"Captain, we have secured Deck Six, but I felt it would be more efficient if I organized responses from here." Aeric said as he approached Commander Sevryll who had taken her position in the captain's chair. Aeric had rerouted his nanites to begin a removal process of his native disguise. He found this his skin had slowly began taking on a color far lighter than the one that he held on the surface, but it would still be hours before the process was complete. It was also a visual reminder as the crew worked on repairing the damage caused by the invaders.

The multi-spectral regenerative shield system of the Intrepid II class vessel quickly worked in the background to restore power as the crew aboard focused on more pressing matters. Asteroids of various size filled the view of the primary view screen as the flight conn officer maneuvered the Arabella in ways the few other classes could mimic. The brief respite from their escape allowed the crew something that they had not been given since their return from the planet, time to think.

O'Tak's fingers danced over the panel as he activated the tractor beam and redirected another mountain at the sphere. The beam slowly halted the asteroid's rotation as the human altered the trajectory and guided it toward the Borg. A moment later he disengaged the beam. "Very good Mr. O'Tak", said Sevryll, as the bridge crew watched the momentum carry the rock toward the ominous globe. It slammed into other asteroids as it continued on a demolition course, causing them to ricochet off one another and hurtle dangerously close to the sphere. Almost too late, a green beam caught the asteroid projectile and slowed its progression to a stop. The Arabella's helmsman continued weaving amongst the obstacle course of metal and rock, increasing the distance between the Starfleet vessel and the Borg Sphere, as it juggled the hostile mass of stones.

As Aeric lowered himself into the chair beside Sevryll, she leaned toward him slightly and whispered,  "I have not been able to locate Dennis or the children. Has Rory heard from him? How is Aria?"

The safety of her children had been the primary reason she resigned from Starfleet after the quarantine was lifted. The virus had almost claimed their lives, and if it would ensure their wellbeing, she was content to stay on Vulcan. But their half-human lineage had not gone unnoticed by fundamentalist groups, who found their display of emotion detestable. It did not help matters that her own suppression abilities had been damaged by the virus. In the end, they were chased away from Vulcan by enemies of her father—men who opposed the diplomat's Unification efforts. With nowhere to go, Sevryll returned to Starfleet at Nathan Quinn's behest. He was the only person who could have talked her into coming back. Now he was missing, and she had placed her children, once again, in danger.  She squeezed her eyes closed and lowered her head. If anything had happened to them, she would never forgive herself.

Sevryll opened her eyes again, drew a breath and glanced to the viewscreen, they would have to return to the point where they lost the Captain. The subspace disturbances could be related to his disappearance...

"Aria was headed to the last known position of Dennis and the twins. Rory received a communication from Dennis, but she didn't have time to tell me the contents of the message." Aeric said and took the first officer's chair. "Some of the decks below are bad, but I think we'll be able to get everything back under control."

Aeric fingers moved over the XO console and brought up data concerning the status of the ship, his brightly colored hair was a wild mane as a result of earlier combat. The Borg had found the new power systems of their ship a tempting target, and most of them were at or near main engineering. Scattered drones worked to hold other portions oonf the ship, but they did not fully control those sections.

"Captain, the good news is that the current level of Borg on the ship is manageable, but we need to come up with a definitive plan before they multiply further." With a few keystrokes, Aeric issued orders to damage control teams, to begin repairs on the secured sections of the ship.Because of the nature of the Borg attack, casualty and fatality reports were trickling in far slower than usual. Reports that would have taken minutes to compile might be delayed hours with the current condition of the ship.

"A Borg infection in ODN junction thirty-two alpha, has disabled several computer systems including the combadge locator systems. This means we might have to do a physical count to see whom we've lost. The initial attack that damaged the power and weapon systems should be our priority. We should be getting those systems back online first. We can't run forever, so I guess it's time that we see how much bite the Arabella has."

"I agree, but we must clear the asteroid field first. Our sensors are not immune to the magnetic field that has hindered the Borg Sphere," said the Vulcan as she straightened in the command chair. "Once shield integrity is increased, we will concentrate our efforts to fend off the Borg and locate the Captain. We lost contact with engineering briefly, but Mr. K'arath has just assured me that they close to remedying the situation." She gripped the arms of the command chair slightly as stress attempted to physically manifest itself within her.

Aeric nodded and focused his attention on monitoring ship systems. "So, once we have restored systems, we deal with the Borg and then we can work on locating Captain Quinn."

Taking a breath, Aeric tapped his badge and routed his message to the necessary staff. "Attention all senior staff and  department heads. Please report to Officer's Briefing Room for a mandatory meeting with Captain Sevryll on the status of the ship. Commander James out."

D'Callan had just rigged a wire across the main corridor to engineering. Any Borg that would walk across it would be instantly killed. Pointing his phaser at the power conduit he was about to fire when he heard a message come through.

"Attention all senior staff and  department heads. Please report to Officer's Briefing Room for a mandatory meeting with Captain Sevryll on the status of the ship. Commander James out."

D'Callan tapped his badge.

"On my way D'Callan out"

He pressed the button on his phaser and the target sprayed with red light, the wire was now live. Smiling at the glow D'callan turned and casually walked towards the turbo lift.

"Computer over ride Bridge lock down for department heads and senior staff only. D'Callan SL5"

the turbo lift doors slid open and D'Callan entered keeping his phaser ready.

"Bridge"

Dr. Peterson, heard the message over the ships intercom and sighed as he spoke to himself, " Dam he said, haven't I got enough to do saving lives. "

Myella Peterson heard her husband talking to himself , she approached him cautiously, " Is everything OK Dr..?

Casey looked up at his wife and replied, "Yes Dr. I, did not realize I was talking out loud, and since all department heads are needed for a briefing I will be placing you in charge of sickbay, Please go distribute what phaser weapons are available in my office safe to all doctors and nurses and coordinate with security if extra is needed,"

"Yes Doctor" Myella replied, as she placed a hand on her husbands cheek and looked into his eyes as she kissed him on the cheek as she whispered in his ear" Be careful dear". Then she was gone issuing commands to the orderlies to make room for the continued flow of wounded.

Dr. Peterson smiled as he let the attending nurse closed up his last surgical patient. Casey walked out of sickbay preoccupied with the impending staff meeting that he forgot he was still wearing his surgical garb and headed towards the turbo lift which would take him to The Officers Briefing room.

K'arath had spent the past hour trying to repair the damage the Borg had done to Main Engineering. Ensign Barton was hard at work under the primary shields station trying to ensure the ship's defensive systems would be on line if and when the Borg caught them in the astroid field. Lt. Took was on his way back from sickbay having been treated for his wounds. Otherwise he had barely a skeleton crew and an emergency situation to deal with. Lt. D'Callan had rigged a defensive perimeter around Main Engineering in case of another Borg incurision.

Now he headed towards the Bridge.

In the cold, sterile makeshift-morgue directly off sickbay, K'Tan stood over the bed holding the lifeless body of Ryla Drett.  His jaw clenched with the emotional tug-of-war raging within him, a back-and-forth struggle between despair and fiercely burning rage. 

K'Tan was no stranger to death.  He had seen both friends and foes sent on to their final reward, many by his own hand.  For Klingons of the warrior caste, death was a constant companion; sometimes lurking unseen in the background, sometimes making itself known in the screams of those it claimed.  But in all instances, it was accepted as a fact of life:  Those who lived by the Bat'leth more often than not died by the Bat'leth. 

But for those who weren't members of the fierce warrior caste, it was a different story.  Outsiders might see all Klingons as a bunch of bloodthirsty, battle-hungry warriors, eager to kill or die in combat, but that wasn't the case.   True, the all too visible warrior caste reveled in combat-- their duty was to walk the razors edge separating peace from total destruction, and only those with the temperament to embrace conflict could prosper in such a role.  But death in violent conflict was not a fitting end for the civilian populace that the warriors fought to protect.
 
Foes who struck down unarmed civilians were worse than without honor; they were without souls.  They deserved nothing less than total annihilation.

K'Tan tentatively reached out a hand and brushed aside a stray lock of Ryla's untamed hair.  Her skin felt stiff and cold.

Such a gentle soul, he lamented.  You deserved better than this. 

His expression turned grim.  His hands balled into fists, the nails almost drawing blood from his palms.

The Borg will pay.

As if from a great distance, K'Tan heard the chirping of his communicator badge.  Ignoring his first impulse to rip the device from his chest and fling it against the wall, he tapped it, opening a channel.  The disembodied voice of the acting XO issued forth-- 

"Attention all senior staff and  department heads. Please report to Officer's Briefing Room for a mandatory meeting with Captain Sevryll on the status of the ship. Commander James out." 

K'tan's pulse pounded in his temples as he made his way towards the bridge. 

He silently prayed that he would encounter a Borg or two before he got there.

The Borg slipped further behind the Arabella, as the Sphere struggled to avoid the asteroids that the starship directed in its path. Sensing that the situation was as stable as possible, Sevryll left the bridge to Zremm and she and Aeric headed for the Main Lounge.  The vulcan entered the briefing room and scratched the long tapered ears that rose at an angle above her crown. The prosthetics were becoming uncomfortable. It had never been a problem in the past...perhaps it was not the alterations that caused the itch. Under stressful situations, agitated nerves often caused mild physical discomfort. She scratched at the elaborate line of tattoos on her neck and took her seat at the head of the long, gloss black table.

While she and Aeric waited, the Vulcan centered herself through controlled breathing. By the time the first officers arrived for the impromptu briefing, the itching seemed to have lessened somewhat. She pushed a lock of blue hair behind her right ear and stood to address the room.  The Acting Captain glanced to Doctor Peterson first—it was evident he left Sickbay during surgery. The Vulcan nodded to him as she began, "I appreciate your promptness. I know you all have pressing matters to attend, but we may not have another chance to discuss our options."  She glanced about the room, taking a moment to account for all the senior officers. Noting that Margon was absent she inquired as to his whereabouts, "where is the Counselor?"

The officers looked round the room and a feeling of unease and dread flowed over them. D'Callan walked to the monitor.

"Computer locate Counselor Margon"

The calm voice of the computer responded.

"Counselor Margon is in his quarters"

Looking over at Sevryll he tapped his communication badge.

"D'Callan to the counselor, respond please"

There was no reply.

"Commander with your permission I'd like to enable the quarter cameras"

Sevryll nodded and turned in her chair to the main briefing room monitor.

"Computer enable security quarter camera to sweep Counselor Margons room, slow pan"

The view screen clicked on, the image looked misty and the camera slowly panned round, nothing at first then a slight movement in the distance. The camera stopped and slowly zoomed in, static began to distort the picture and the zoom stopped. The officers leaned in towards the monitor to try and make out the movement when suddenly coming out of nowhere came a set of teeth and deathly scowl, swiping at the light of the camera Mr Mouse attacked it, his tail rigged and pointing up.

The hall seemed strangely quiet. Fissual and Reese walked slowly with their weapons ready for a surprise attack, but nothing seemed to be going on around them. They worked their way farther and farther from their quarters and the more they traveled without any contact with the Borg the more relaxed they were becoming.  Their focus began to fade and the threat seemed to be less important then before. Their fears were slipping away.

"Fissual, you know for a guy who talks as much as you do, I really don't know much about you and your past."

"You never ask."

"Well, I didn't know you were a wrestler." Reese wondered to himself why he had never asked Fissual about his past, cause after what he had seen he was now very interested, "Yeah, what else don't I know about you?"

"You would be interested in the rest of my life." Fissual replied, "It's really not interesting."

"I'm interested. Where did you come from? What's your homeworld?"

"I don't have a homeworld."

"What, did you live in space?"

"Yeah," Fissual seemed to be being a bit evasive about his past, "on a transport ship."

"A transport ship, huh."

"Yeah."

"So was your father an engineer too?"

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" Fissual stopped the conversation, he didn't like talking about his past and he wasn't going to go any further.

"Fine, if you don't want to we don't have to." Reese was surprised by Fissual's tone of voice, he couldn't remember ever hearing a bitter word come out of his mouth. Reese began to wonder if something had traumatized Fissual in his past, he knew the best way to get past the pain was to face it, it was something that had become very evident only a short time ago to himself. He wanted to help Fissual, but he didn't want to push him. Baby steps Reese thought.

"Its not there, it's not there. IT IS NOT THERE"

Opening her eyes the skull had now gone and all Susan could see was the patient below her. She glanced around and small lights flickered in her vision. She was beginning to become fatigued. As much as she wanted to keep working the young nurse knew that she had to rest, a tired medic was a dangerous medic.

"I need to rest, Wake me in half an hour"

Her fellow medics smiled at her, they had all had at least some rest and this would be Susan's first in nineteen hours. She found a corner near to Ryla's office and lay down, she knew her friend was lying motionless next door but even that thought could not stop her succumbing to the power of sleep, slowly her heavy eye lids dropped and Susan Caine fell asleep.

Quinn sat there for a moment confused as to what Locutus had just said. None of this made any sense. Locutus continue to stare at Quinn with a quizzical look. "Why have you kidnapped me?" Nathan asked while jumping down from the table. Locutus smiled, "Why that should be obvious." Quinn shock his head, "humor me," he said. Locutus began to walk around Nathan; "Why to bring cohesiveness to the Borg of course, with your powerful telepathic abilities you will be able to unify all Borg. Unification is the only way the Borg will defeat its foes." "But the Borg have no formidable enemies," Nathan said as he pulled on a black bodysuit that was lying next to his table. "But we do... and with your help we will be able to combine the forces of our Collective and the Cooperative and we will once and for all be able to crush the Empire and Alliance in one big swoop." Suddenly something clicked in Quinn's brain as he heard Locutus mention the Empire and Alliance. Nathan now knew where he was, it all made sense. "I'm in the mirror universe?" He stated under his breath. Locutus laughed out loud, "Of course you are, we lost our Quinn many months ago and have been searching for you since. You will help us defeat our foes.. resistance if futile." Quinn watched as the large Borg exited the room walking through the force field that enclosed the entrance.

Nathan paced the room thinking to himself. How was his crew going to find him, he wasn't even in the same dimension anymore. All he knew was if they were able to pull him from his universe they would be able to send him back. And one thing was for sure he was not going to willing help the Borg from this universe or any other.

Fissual stopped abruptly as he looked around the corner. Reese stopped behind him.

"What is it?" Reese whispered.

"Something ahead, looks like a body."

"Is it a Borg?"

"It didn't look like one."

"Could be someone in need of our help."

They peered around the corner, no Borg, but there was a an officer, a woman laying across the floor. They approached her slowly. There was signs of a struggle. Broken pieces of machinery. Farther down the hall they saw the body of a dead Borg with a metal scrap deep in it head. The woman appeared to be uncontentious. Reese felt her arm for a pulse.

"She's alive, we should get her to sick bay."

There was no sign of Borg implants, but two small holes could be seen on her neck.

"Reese!" Fissual said pointing at the scars on her neck.

"I know, but I've been walking around with these two scars just like these on my neck for the past half an hour and I haven't felt any different. She is injured and we need to help her."

"Guess we're going to sick bay after all." Fissual said agreeing without actually saying 'yes'. He was still a little uneasy about her and the possibility of her being a Borg, but he trusted Reese and they  scooped her up gently and began their new journey to sick bay.

Dr. Peterson strummed his fingers rhythmically on the table, it was quite obvious that he was slightly annoyed by the timing of this impromptu meeting, even though he understood why it was called.

He was as concerned as everyone was about the presence of the Borg on the Arabella. His hate for the Borg ran deep as they were responsible for taking his family away from him, and this meeting had taken him away from his primary duty on this ship which was to care for the dying and injured and to save as many people as he could.

Sevryl had seen this look of urgency before from the doctor and she knew that the meeting would have to start soon or he would excuse himself from the meeting in order go back to the operating room and continue his work. She would of course not stop him and knew the only reason he was here was because he was if nothing else, a dedicated starfleet officer.

Sevryl also knew that if the crew was to get through this he would be needed back in sickbay as soon as possible.

As the rest of the senior staff began meeting about their situation, Lieutenant Zremm tried to get comfortable in the center seat.  He had never desired command in any way.  Partly this was due to his more scientific and logical mind, but it was also slightly born of fear.  There had been Andorians he knew that had allowed the power of command to control them and in some cases it had destroyed their lives.  Zremm had no intention of letting that happen to himself.  He now had a woman he loved and a child on the way.  And that was where his priority rested.  But he did wonder occasionally what things would have been like if he had followed a different path - lived a different type of life.  He had a feeling he might not care for that version of himself.

"Status report on the Borg Sphere?"  Zremm called out to the OPS station.

"Still in pursuit sir, but falling slightly further behind us.  The asteroid maneuver seems to be letting us gain a little breathing room."  Petty Officer Rava Ronan replied from his station.

"Very good, continue evasive maneuvers when needed and keep me informed of any change in distance.  We need to have a good lead on them when we come out of this mess."  Zremm said as he got up and wandered the bridge.  Sitting down at the moment just didn't quite seem right.  Just as he circled to the tactical station his comm badge chirped.  He immediately recognized the voice.

"Engineering to bridge."  A very familiar female voice called out as he tapped his badge.

"Zremm here.  What's our status Ensign?"  Zremm said trying very hard to stick to the business at hand.

"Ensign Barton reporting in, sir."  Marie said with a slight inflection that Zremm knew was suppressing a small laugh.  She knew very well how Zremm felt about command.

"Go ahead Ensign - how are those shields coming?"  He asked.

"I've got them to 75%, lieutenant.  The Borg destroyed a few more logic circuits when they tried to adapt their technology to ours.  Once those are replaced and we recalibrate the Arabella should be good to go - or at least protect herself."  Ensign Marie Barton reported.

"Excellent work, Ensign.  Please keep me updated on any new developments.  Zremm out."  He said as he closed the channel.  Of course, what he really wanted to do and say to Marie would have to come later.  When they were alone - when the current crisis was handled.  He continued to pace the bridge and hoped that the senior staff came up with a plan to get them out of this situation.

K'arath barged into the conference room with all the grace of a Targ at a child's birthday party. He wore his normal duty uniform, the gold material around his shoulder was smudged and filthy as were his hands and face. He was covered in the fluids form the sips bio-gel packs and had clearly spent the past hour crawling through conduits. His skin was still black from his away mission alterations which managed to hide the filth on his face.
Dr. Peterson looked up and gave a sly half smile. "Good of you to dress for the occasion." he said.
K'arath cocked his head to one said and chose to ignore the sarcasm. He knew what the Doctor had been through after being in sickbay during the incursion. "Doctor." he said in respectful acknowledgement. He knew Peterson was as anxious to return to his post as he was.
K'arath turned towards Sevryl. "Captain," he said, seeing how the use of the formal title made the Vulcan somewhat uncomfortable. "We have managed to stabilize all main systems and have removed all Borg technology. Damage control teams are continuing the ship wide repairs in areas still under our influence, but any Borg presence on board may quickly change that status."
Sevryl nooded. "Thank you for your report, Commander."
"Also, " K'arath continued,"I would like to request additional manpower to be assigned Main Engineering to replace..." he paused, "to support those that are left. Ensign Fissual is a new member of my team and I need him now."

Aeric watched quietly as the crew assembled for the impromptu meeting. There was so much going on in his mind that he needed that silence to gather his thoughts.

"James to security. Please dispatch a team to Councilor Margon's quarter and assess the situation. The area is unsecure and might have hostiles." Aeric said as he tapped his combadge and received their reply before turning his attention to the senior staff.

"Thank you all for arriving so promptly. I know that we are still missing a few key people, but we need to have this meeting so that we might quickly get back to our jobs," Aeric said as he rose and moved towards the wall display. "The Borg might have caught us off guard with their attack, but the predecessor class to this ship has stopped more than one Borg incursion."

"We have been on the defensive for too long and that has cost us. We are not going to let the Borg go any further on this ship. We need to come up with plans to not only repair the ship, but to stop the ship in pursuit of us."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Due to the errors of the location system, we have no idea as to how many people were abducted or even who was abducted. Given the time location and previous position of crew in relation to the initial incursion, I estimate that they had only access to between ten and sixteen crew members. We need to work on disabling the sphere instead of destroying it because our people are still there. Assimilated or not, these are members of Star Fleet and there have been too many cases of people being successfully retrieved from the Collective for us to kill our own people. We have killed too many of our own family this day. It needs to end."

"I know that there are a lot of ideas that many of you have come up with in the middle of this crisis. Let's see if we can refine them and turn them into plans that we as a crew can carry out. We also need to be aware that the longer that we have to deal with the Borg, the colder the trail to Captain Quinn gets."

Aeric pressed a few keys on the panels that highlighted the damaged systems in various shades to indicate the level of damage and the importance of the system. "Where should we begin?"

Dr. Peterson looked at Aeric James and said I have a suggestion I don't know how feasible it is , but it might be worth looking into,

Perhaps replicating some of the nanobots that you and Aria possess might help us treat some of our borgified crewmembers and get them up on their feet much quicker, I would also request for some nonessential crew members to help move non life threatening patients out of sickbay to the afterburner as well as a couple of security crew if you can spare them with some extra phasers.

Although, my staff is trained in combat we are not security officers, we are doctors and nurses, and although sickbay is secure now, if it falls then we our in deep trouble as we our the only ones who can save our crew and patch up the wounded to keep fighting and defending our ship.

We are all tired I know, but if we can get a few more crewmembers and security officers my staff can concentrate on the wounded and get them out of sickbay quicker instead of having to divide my staff by having them do policing duties as well.

As you all know, as important as this meeting here is, me being here, is impeding the progress of dealing with the wounded as I was pulled out of surgery to be here, Just as all of you were pulled out of your duties.

Saving our borgified crew will require additional security especially if they get out of hand and I suggest we start with any security and command personal who have fallen victim to the Borg as we will need them.

Dr. Peterson stopped and waited for Aeric to respond to his suggestions and requests for additional staff. Dr Peterson hoped he would get some additional help as he was extremely swamped in sickbay and short a doctor with the accidental death of Ryla Drett.

Ensign Spring Farmer, respendantly indigo in her native Terr'Ossic guise, staggered under the burden of the injured human engineer. She was petite, and whip-cord thin, but 112 pounds was still 112 pounds. Her head lolled onto Mackie's shoulder and she moaned in pain. "Mackie?"

Mackie used her free hand to claw open the false blue skin disguising the gill-slits beneath her jaw. She emitted more of the anesthetic scent, lacing it with calming endorphins, using the natural talent of her species. She wished she could remove the uncomfortable gland covers over her ribcage to stregthen the odor, but the laced bodice was more than she could manage now. Her re-opened gill-slits would have to do. Her enhanced comm-badge translated the odors she used for communication, and spewed calming sounds. "It's all right. Just keep moving your feet. We're on deck 5, almost to sick-bay."

Unaltered Fertillians had gill-slits on either side of their noses, but Mackie had opted for cosmetic relocation, moving the slits down to her neck. Her usual blond wig, disguising a lack of ears (and hair), had been replaced with implanted pale blue candy-floss hair as part of her native disguise for the previous mission. She had been rather enjoying it, and the accompanying pointed ears, before the attack had made cosmetic considerations unimportant. Now the hair was matted with the teenager's blood.

Scalp wound, thought Mackie. Most species bleed a lot from head wounds. It's not as bad as it looks. Just keep her conscious. The injury didn't smell dire. Not yet, anyway.

"Talk to me, Ginny." Normally this would have been an unneccessary injunction, considering Ginny's mile-a-miute verbal style, but this injury had slowed her down.

"Unh?"

Specifics. Ask for specifics. "Tell me about your brother. Umm, where is he?" She kept moving.

"Nakota? He's on Mars... colony." She took a breath through her nose. "He's.. a..." She muttered something unintelligible.

It smelled like fresh-baked cookies to Mackie. "He's a what?"

Ginny whimpered slightly then surpised Mackie with a lop-sided smile. "He's a... he's a brat."

As they walked Reese tried to get Fissual to talk about his past, but nothing seemed to be able to get him to speak. Reese gave up and let Fissual be. They continued on silently. Fissual thought to himself of all the torment he had gone through. He didn't want to relive that. He couldn't let himself relive that. He didn't know how Reese would respond if he tried talking about it. Reese could be just like the others. Fissual tried not to think about it. He began looking around focusing his attention elsewhere. The wall, the floor, the injured girl. He then noticed something on her face, behind her hair. Hefocused in on that spot, it was a Borg implant emerging from within her skin.

"Reese, I think she has been infected by the Borg."

"All the more reason she needs our help." Reese replied.

"Reese, Borg can't be change back as far as I know," Fissual paused thinking, "least not easily and not without later repercussion."

"We not leaving her." Reese's mind was made up.

"I wasn't talking about leaving her."

"We're not going to kill her, I've heard of lots of Borg that have been revived, besides she's not all gone, only a few implants showing.

"Implants are inside, there is no way to tell how bad it is."

"Then we get her to sick bay and find out."

"What if she comes to before we get there, she'll go strait to killing us both."

"I think we need to take that chance, Fiss."

"Ok, but if she goes Borg on us, we put her down."

"Last option, only then do we..." Reese paused he didn't like that option under any circumstance, "you know."

"I just hope you'll be ready if and when the time comes, Dave." Fissual just wanted his friend to be safe and understand the magnitude of their situation like he did, but the Borg was seemingly driving them away. Fissual began hoping for any possible excuse to get away from the abomination they were aiding.

In the briefing room, K'Tan made a conscious effort to put aside the grief and anger he was feeling and to focus on the matter at hand.  At the front of the room, Commander James concluded his summary of the situation.  It all boiled down to three objectives-- Repair the Arabella, somehow stop the Borg Sphere that was pursuing them, and retrieve their missing crewmates.

"Where should we begin?", James said, gesturing towards the ship's master system's display.
 
Naturally concerned with saving the infected crew members, Dr. Peterson spoke up.  "Perhaps replicating some of the nanobots that you and Aria possess might help us treat some of our borgified crewmembers and get them up on their feet much quicker?"

K'Tan's eyebrow quirked; the Doctor brought up an interesting point.  As Peterson continued, K'Tan thought of a quote by the famous Klingon strategist L'Mond-- "In battle, he who learns to uses one bat'leth to vanquish multiple foes will emerge the victor."

As Peterson concluded, K'Tan gave the Doctor a nod of respect.  "Dr. Peterson brings up a good point," he said.  "Perhaps we can use these Nano-Bots to achieve several goals at once."

He stood to address the gathered officers.  "I remember reading back in the academy about an ensign on the Enterprise-D who used crude Nanobots for repair work.  Would it be possible to replicate your nanites, as Dr. Peters suggests, and program them to identify the borg's signature?  And could they be programmed to attack anything bearing that signature?"

K'Tan's gestures became more animated as the idea took form in his head.

"Kind of like the way that human white blood cells detect and destroy foreign objects in the bloodstream.  The nanites could act as the Arabella's own army of white blood cells; attacking the areas of the ship damaged by the borg and repairing them.  Perhaps we could even employ this same tactic with our infected crew members, using the nanites to attack their implants while repairing any damaged tissue.  If we can divert enough energy to the replicators, perhaps we can even flood the ship with the nanites, and let them attend any crewmen or areas of the ship that we might miss."

K'Tan slammed a fist into his palm with a solid smack.  "And if we are able to introduce these into the sphere itself, think of the damage they might cause!  Granted, the Borg would eventually adapt to the nanites, perhaps even incorporate them into their own structure, but the attack just might shut them down for a few minutes.  We can use those minutes to try and retrieve any crew members they may have abducted."

D'Callan tappeed the last instructions for the security team with his fingers as he concentrated on K'Tans word. Once he finished he walked forward and passed the acting captains chair. He looked down at her and nodded. Sevryll looked up at him.

"We have help as well Commander, Dennis is in the main components of our ship. So far he has not only helped me dodge the Borg but he has helped K'Arath and the rest of engineering secure the decks. He has the best advantage point we could possibly ask for, inside the ship itself"

D'Callan brushed passed Sevrylls chair and he suddenly remember the information Theran had given him and something regarding Dennis clicked in his mind.

Sevryll's eyebrow raised slightly at hearing Dennis's name.

"Continue Lt D'Callan"

Joseph walked to the monitor.

" Dennis has been helping in engineering with k'Ararth and Took. He has an idea regarding our Borg problem. Basically his plan is to power down the Borg alcoves. If we can cut power from them then they simply cannot power back up."

Turning to look at the monitor D'Callan addressed the blank screen.

"Dennis you with us mate?"

The blank screen suddenly burst into life and words came onto the screen.

ITS NICE TO BE BACK IN CONVERSATION. I HAVE MONITORED ALL BORG ACTIVITY. WE NEED TO GET THEM INTO THEIR ALCOVES AND ONCE THEY ARE THERE WE CAN THEN POWER DOWN ALL THE ENERGY.

D'Callan turned to the other officers and moved away so they could all see the information that Dennis began to show.

Joint post by institches and moyer777



Upon entering sickbay, a wave of varying sights and smells assaulted Mackie's senses. She concentrated on Ginny, helping her to lie down on the floor out of the walkway. She stood, searching for an available medic.  There was the Borg stench, of course: partially necrotic tissues blended with all variety of machine smells. The smell of fear, of calm barely masking distress. She could help here. She emitted the same calming scent she had used for Ginny, and began to unlace the constricting bodice in order to remove the gland covers she used to tone down the emissions so clearly needed now.

That was when it hit her: Ryla's scent, like fresh laundry and ginger, free of the symbiont's own scent, fading into ashes. Ryla was dead. And the symbiont was no more, erased. Her two dearest friends...

The Fertillian view of death was different than that of most species: there was no belief in an afterlife, no memorials, no grieving. Just a pragmatic expectation that people would die; new friendships would spring up to replace the old ones.

But Ryla and Drett, her symbiont, had been special to Mackie in a way she had never experienced on her home planet. They had been closer than family. Drett spoke to her in a way that couldn't be communicated with anyone else, even Ryla herself. It was as though a part of Mackie was gone.

She stumbled out of sickbay, needing to escape the death-smell of Ryla. You have a job to do, she told herself, as she moved down the corridor. Find the injured, defend the ship, do what you can.

She shifted into a jog and soon found herself jumping over a deactivated drone, one servomotor still working in a leg. Two steps beyond it was the door to Margon's counseling office. The door was rhythmically opening and shutting, catching on a foot that protruded into the hallway. A Borg foot. Attached to a Borg leg. She cautiously approached, smelling the cherry popsicle smell she attached to Margon, the white electricity of feral panic, and the Borg, of course.

The Borg lay prone, assimilation tubules still jutting from its gray hand but unmoving. She stomped on the delicate tubules, crushing them.

Next to the Borg lay Margon. He, too, was still in native disguise. His features were now a curious blend of artificial Ter'Ossic red blending in places with the dead Borg gray, and the angry dark blue bruising that characterized Bolian skin. His round little stomach belied his quick breathing.

The feline panic smell was still fresh, but somewhat dampened with her presence. She sent out the smell of rich cream, sweet clover, and sun-warmed fur to calm Margon's cat, Mr. Mouse. She kept the smell going as she attended to the counselor.

She rolled him onto his back and breathed into his face. "Margon!" One eye was gone, replaced with a dark mechanical enhancement. She stared as she realized the reason for the bruising. A tiny Borg implant manifested itself on the counselor's cheek, unfolding into a flowery metalized spider. It then trembled and fell away, the counselor's skin showing a bruise where the implant had been rejected.

"Margon!" She emitted a short burst of an ammonia-like smell, hoping to break through the counselor's trance.

In the silence of his mind, Margon struggled to make sense out of the strange order that had overcome him.  At the same time he felt himself fighting it.  It wasn't natural.  A strange smell woke him to see Spring Mackie Farmer crouching next to him.  Only one of his eyes would open. The other eye stung and in it he had no vision at all.  He tried to get out words, but they weren't forming quickly enough. 

Spring spoke soothingly to Margon as one by one the borg technology began to exit his body.  For a moment the newly grown Borg eyeball that was covered by a black metalic laser type structure moved.  It rolled in the socket and then simply popped out.  The sound startled Mr. Mouse who shot across the room and batted the mechanical ball to the other side of the room. 

It was then that Margon smiled and pushed himself up off the floor.  "Darn, I probably could have used that!" 

"We need to get you to sick bay Counselor." she said and grapped him around the waist. 

The two officers made their way to the door, but not before Mr. Mouse ran under their feet and almost caused both of them to fall.  As if it couldn't get worse Spring smelled something odd.

Odd, but not threatening. Musk and chocolate, getting progressively stronger. She looked up just as two tiny marsupials dropped into her borrowed blue hair. Mackie noted with surprise the smell of contentment. The cluster of five organic lifeforms skirted the Borg corpses and headed for help.

Having received orders to locate Counselor Margon, Ensign Talon Bowers left his post on Deck Six and headed for the Bolian's quarters. Since his first encounter with the Borg, he had personally eliminated five drones and was functioning on a level of hyper-alertness. His tired blue eyes darted about nervously as he maneuvered towards the officer's cabin. He was numb with remorse and with fear of the inevitable consequences. Do they know? No, of course they don't. If they did, they wouldn't have sent me after the Counselor... But maybe the situation is such that all personnel, regardless of whether they inadvertently shot an unarmed medical officer or not, are required to secure the ship. Yes...they know what I did... How could they not?

He swallowed  hard as the image of the dying woman, being rushed passed him, slipped into his thoughts like an invading nightmare. Stepping out of the turbolift, he paused in the corridor to lean wearily against the bulkhead. His heart pounded like a hammer in his chest and the palms of his hands had begun to sweat. He shifted the rifle in his hands as he wiped them on his duty trousers.  This was the first time he'd been alone to think about what happened...the first chance he had to think about what he had done. The tall, dark haired Terran closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to squeeze the vision from his thoughts—but to no avail. A second later, and he was back in the Afterburner.

The sounds of panicked screams, Borg servos and intermittent phaser-fire filled his ears. He could smell the electricity in the air as drones short-circuited after being struck by energy beams. The room was dark, and he did not have the proper equipment—the equipment he needed to separate enemy from friend.

Talon pounded the back of his head against the wall in the corridor, as the scene continued to play out in his mind. The Afterburner was dark. Yet when the room was lit with phaser fire, he could see clearly. His eyes focused on two forms at the far end of the lounge; a drone attacking a child.  The light in the room quickly dimmed, and then brightened again as his fellow security officers fired at other drones.  Within that nanosecond of illumination, he witnessed a frantic woman defending the small boy. Again, the room faded to black, before the bright light of phasers lit the area once more. It was then he saw the woman being tossed aside by the drone. From his position near the entrance of the lounge, Talon lined up his shot. The Afterburner was dark again. He waited for another flash of light and squeezed a pulse from his rifle to fire at the drone. As his own phaser blast flashed within the room, he saw the woman fall again.  Talon's tortured shout filled the empty corridor and he slammed his head against the wall in anger and frustration, "Ahhhhagh!!!!" The drone had escaped with the boy, and he had shot an innocent bystander. I saw her being tossed aside an instant before! She couldn't have gotten up so quickly after that! He opened his eyes just as Spring Farmer rounded the corner with Margon leaning heavily upon her. At first, the security officer was taken back by the odd appearance of their Ter'Ossick disguises, and he reflexively raised the barrel of his rifle. Mackie froze in place as the Counselor raised his pale gaze to meet Talon's wild-eyed expression. The Fertillian wasted no time in emitted a calming sent, and watched as Ensign Bowers lowered the weapon. " A little help here?" she grunted as she shifted the Counselor's weight under her small frame.

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

Why is Dennis in the Mainframe?! Something horrible has happened! Sevryll was certain of it.  She fought the urge to ask Dennis where the twins were. She could not ask. Not there. Not during the briefing. She may not be capable of containing whatever emotion would pour out after hearing the hologram's account of whatever had happened. Instead, Sevryll forced her expression to remain placid, swallowed down the fear and thanked him for his assistance. "Both proposals sound promising. Which one will ensure the quickest and most effective result?"

Quinn paced back and forth in the assimilation chamber. The Borg had erected some sort of damping field around the chamber that made Nathan's telepathy useless.  He was truly alone; no voices in his head only his terrified thoughts of what was coming. Suddenly he heard some footsteps as three Borg approached the entrance to the chamber. They proceeded to walk through the force field and over to Quinn. As they approached, Nathan backed up looking for something he could use for a weapon, but there was nothing. Quinn noticed that one of the Borg was Nicholas Took and a stab of pain could be felt in his heart. Nathan had to keep telling himself that this was not his Nic, his Nic was safe on the Arabella.  The three spoke in unison. "Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, lie down on the table, prepare for assimilation" Quinn looked around hoping for something, anything "Resistance is Futile"

Borg Took grabbed Nathan by the arm and forced him over to the table. Quinn struggled as they strapped him down.  Nathan reached out with his mind and tried to communicate with Took, but it was no use there was no individual there only the collectives. Then Quinn heard in his own mind. "It is useless Captain Quinn, he is mine as you soon will be," came the voice of Locutus.  Nathan could hear the three Borgs preparing to assimilate him.  He looked into Nicolas' eyes one last time before the Borg raised his right arm to Nathan's neck and inserted the tubes to inject the Borg Nanites. It was a strange feeling as Quinn could feel the nanites coursing through his blood steam.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion coming from outside the assimilation chamber and several people entered through the blown out wall. Quinn could hear phaser fire and loud explosions but wasn't able to move, just before Quinn passed out he heard one of the men say "Take this one, he has just been assimilated, Doctor Margon will be very pleased with us..." then there was darkness.

ACT II : The Mirror Universe

Post by Jen

The Mêlée class frigate was the only ship in the Emperor's fleet that the ruler himself traveled upon. The flagship was painted blood red, and bore the name Tiberius on the saucer section's hull plating. Above the designation rested the emblem of the Empire—a dagger plunged into the heart of the planet Earth, which was the seat of power in three quadrants and the core of his domain. The vessel was a reflection of his supremacy and the embodiment of his dominance.  Like the Emperor, the battleship assailed its enemies with ferocity, evoking fear within the hearts of even the most valiant dissenters.

Emperor Locke sat within his quarters on the frigate, staring at the battle being waged outside his viewport. He was a calculating and brutal man—the son of a wealthy merchant. But his bloodline was also saturated with the DNA of warriors. David's ingenious concepts and his ability sell them to others, blended with his athletic prowess to create the ultimate sovereign. Yet, like all legendary leaders, he had his weakness...and like most men, that weakness was a woman.

She was seated beside him, speaking low in his ear. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of her breath. David Locke could have any female that struck his fancy, but Sevryll was the only one that made his heart leap. It had not mattered that she was the wife of his best friend. He could simply rewrite the law and the Vulcan would be his. But years of observation told David that her spirit would prevent her from submitting to such an obvious manipulation. He had to be subtle and patient in his efforts to win her.

Her husband had been a general in the Emperor's army, and it pained him to lose such a noble warrior and loyal friend, but David's lust for his comrade's wife moved him to strike like a snake. He ordered the man on a suicide mission against the Borg, five years prior. Sevryll was free of her husband and under the Emperor's care for three years, before she finally agreed to become his mistress. Yet her heart never truly belonged to him. A deep depression kept it from his grip, despite his attempts to earn her affection.

A year after she became the Emperor's Mistress, the Vulcan woman learned of his dark deed. A shadowy figure detailed the David's twisted scheme to eliminate her husband, two years before. The informant's sole intent was to recruit Sevryll as a spy, which was not as difficult as the handler thought.  The Vulcan was all to willing, and over time, she learned to fake an affection for the man she loathed... but not for her handler's cause. Sevryll had but one desire—to take David Locke apart from the inside out, for the pain he caused her.


Listening for voices, Joseph D'Callan waited in the corridor outside of the Emperor's room. The low mummer of a woman's alto could be heard through door. The arch interrogator had an interest in the mistress as well, but it wasn't her beauty that inspired his curiosity. He had always been suspicious of Mistress Sevryll. D'Callan believed it was foolish of the Emperor to take the wife of a former general. Regardless of friendships, military leaders were also driven by power. It had always been Joseph's assumption that General Tevian was quietly plotting against he Emperor, and it was likely Tevian's former wife shared those aspirations. Joseph furrowed his brow, "surely the Emperor had more reason than just the woman, to send the General to his death. Perhaps he wasn't the only one who suspected the Vulcan man of treason."

The battle rumbled through the deck plates, dragging D'Callan from his thoughts. "YES?!" came a roar from within the Emperor's quarters.

The door opened just as the Vulcan stood from her place at the ruler's side. She nodded curtly at D'Callan. His eyes seemed to follow her everywhere she went and she despised him for it. She smoothed her blue, formfitting suit and pushed a long strand of raven hair behind one ear. D'Callan watched her lean close and whisper to Emperor. The arch interrogator strained to hear, but only picked up on the words "Peters" and "mind-meld". Locke smiled up at her, "I agree. It would be a more effective means of gathering information from him. You have my permission." Sevryll bent to give the Emperor a deep kiss, and as she did, she titled her head and fired a scowl at the interrogator, which prompted him to advert his eyes.  He glanced back a few times waiting for the lengthy show of affection to come to an end. When it finally did, the Emperor dismissed her and the woman moved with a deliberate sway past D'Callan...keeping her intense glare locked on his own. The door hissed opened and the Vulcan disappeared into the corridor. The ship rumbled in unison with the Emperor's booming voice. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"


----

Joint post by Meds and Jen


Emperor Locke was seated with his back to the door. His cold blue eyes were focused on the random bursts of light, which erupted within the black void beyond his viewport—his ship had entered the battle.  At the sound of shuffling, he turned his broad shoulders to face the interrogator and grumbled an irritated curse as he noted D'Callan presence. With a dismissive smirk, he turned back to the spectacle of battle.

The interrogator lifted his head; his black hair dropped around his pale face and circled his red bloodshot eyes. "I apologize for the interruption Emperor... and I assure you, if my visit was of no importance I would not have risked angering you."

"Get on with it then."

It appears, Emperor, that Margon is becoming somewhat over enthusiastic when it comes to his 'little tests'. His manners appear to have escaped him, as I have not had chance to welcome our most recent visitor."

"The Borg are not visitors, D'Callan. They are enemies... and the purpose of Margon's tests, are of no consequence to you.  Yet, so that you no longer concern yourself with the welfare of our 'guests', I will gladly bring you up to speed." Sarcasm dripped off his words like blood from a curved and rusty blade. He paused to let them soak in before continuing.  "Our twisted Blue Bolian is attempting to reprogram the captured drones as soldiers of the Empire, and he assures me that he is nearing success. If you were allowed to have the prisoners first, I would gain nothing but more stinking bodies to eject from the airlock."

The Emperor's back was still turned, and D'Callan knew he could easily plunge a dagger into it, but he had nowhere to go to escape the wrath of the imperial henchmen. He sneered instead and carefully replied, "but the man he tests now is not a drone. He is a human... a human who was freed from the Central Alcove of the Borg King's vessel. I am certain he has information vital to our cause, and yet Margon is..."

"ENOUGH." The Emperor's booming voice rattled within the room. "You will quietly wait your turn, Interrogator."

"Yes, Emperor." D'Callan worked his jaw in frustration and continued, "and what of Peters? He is my prisoner, and yet I just heard you turn him over to Sevryll. Why?"

David slowly stood and turned slightly to look down at D'Callan over one shoulder, "Because she asked for him. That is all the answer you need. Do not question it again or Margon will have an interrogator as his next lab animal."
D'Callan bowed and spun quickly on his heal to leave the Emperor's room. Sevryll was up to something, and he would prove it."

Nathan Quinn found himself within another dark chamber...yet this one was cold.  The only lights came from directly above him and he squeezed his eyes shut against their harshness. He turned his head to the side and opened them again. The parameter surrounding his metal lab table was filled with transparent containers holding the gruesome body parts of various Borg Drones; the implants still glowed eerily within the yellow solution, they were submerged in.
Nathan's heart pounded and his ears focused on mysterious noises that stabbed from the darkness. After a moment, they pinpointed and identified the distinct sound of boots against a metal floor. Just out of his line of site, Doctor Margon circled him like a predator.

"I trust I am not disturbing you DOCTOR?" Said a hoarse voice from the other side of the room. Startled, Nathan's head rolled in the direction of the voice in a futile attempt to locate it's vendor. He heard the footsteps halt, then a scuffing sound as the man called "Margon" pivoted to address the voice.

"What are you doing in my lab, D'Callan? Are you volunteering for something? Perhaps you've decided to donate your body to science?"

"You are beginning to try my patience, Margon," hissed the voice.  I feel it necessary to remind you of your position aboard this ship. Any packages that come aboard must be delivered to me first. No matter how pathetic they may appear."
Margon laughed, "the Emperor has authorized all my procedures... you have no influence here."


" I trust that the package here has not yet been spoiled by your pathetic attempts at research...Doctor. That title does not suit you. Butcher would be more fitting, I believe."

Margon snapped back at D'Callans cool calm words.

"DO be careful D'Callan, or you may find an appendage in one of my jars you...."
Before Margon could finish his sentence the gloved hand had grasped his neck and he had just enough time to see the glint of a cold silver scalpel breeze his chin.

"Another word from you DOCTOR Margon, and your head will be added to my own macabre collection. Finish your useless experiment and send him to the interrogation room...alive and in one piece." He let Margon go, and watched him step backwards. He was impressed that the Bolian had not once taken his eyes off his own. "I'll have Mr Dunn come and collect him when you're finished."

D'Callan slipped into the darkness. The light from the corridor spilled into the dark room, indicating his absence. Margon wiped the blood from his chin and in a fit of rage flung a jar containing a Borg arm to the floor. He would have to limit his plans for the man he had on the table, for D'Callan was favored by the Emperor and he would not risk the wrath of his ruler.

MIRROR UNIVERSE-


The IKS Negvar leisurely glided through space, the blue-green orb of the planet Q'uo'nos spinning slowly beneath her.  She was a fearsome vessel; her forward thrusting command module connected to the larger engineering section by a long, slightly tapering neck.  Two downswept pylons protruded from each side of the engineering module, terminating in a pair of the most powerful warp nacelles in the Klingon-Cardassian Union. 

As he glanced through the viewport of the shuttle carrying him to the ship, the Klingon Admiral KoraQ gave a grim nod of approval.  His flagship was truly a thing of beauty, and would be sure to keep the Terran hordes at bay.  The light of the system's primary star briefly illuminated the battle cruiser's grey-green hull, bringing the Negvar's predatory curves into sharp relief.  To KoraQ, her downswept wings gave her the appearance of a mighty raptor sweeping in to disembowel its prey.

KoraQ turned to the half-terran/half-cardassian man piloting the shuttle.  He grimaced in distaste, once again wondering how such a halfbreed abomination had been allowed to live once it was spit out from the terran who birthed it.  Yet another example of the moral depravity of our Cardassian allies, he thought.

"Bring us in to the port docking bay, PetaQ!" he bellowed.  "And if you so much as scratch the paint on the Negvar, I'll personally carve your filthy hide from your bones."

The man piloting the shuttle nodded, giving no sign of the outrage boiling within him.  You racist, self-important piece of filth, he thought. If there were any justice in this universe, you would be killed a thousand times over! 

"Yes, Admiral," he replied.

Although accustomed to the volatile mood of the Klingon Admiral, the pilot was caught off guard by the hardened fist which suddenly smashed into the side of his face, jerking his head violently to the left and throwing him out of his chair.  Lying sprawled on the shuttle's floor, the pilot gingerly dabbed the blood welling up from his torn cheek.  He looked up to see the Klingon Admiral looming above him, murder in his eyes.

"Who gave you permission to speak to me?"  KoraQ bellowed.  "Give me your name, PetaQ, so that I can report your insubordination to your Cardassian superiors!"

His arms quivering in combined anger and fear, the pilot carefully answered the Admiral.  "My name is Danan, Admiral.  I apologize for offending you."

"I care nothing for apologies, Danan; they are useful only to the weak."  KoraQ spoke the pilot's name as though it left a foul taste in his mouth.  "Return to your station, and do NOT speak to me again unless I command you to."

Danan scrambled back to his seat, afraid that any hesitation might provoke the crazy klingon to more violence.  What did I do to deserve to be born into such a cruel universe? he thought bitterly.

The tall soldier walked past the bridge turbolift with the Imperial symbol of sword through the terran homeworld and smiled.  The battle was going well.  His ship had managed to not only damage the Borg vessel, but they had been able to board her and capture a very interesting prisoner - one he had thought dead.  As he continued to pace, his crew made certain to pay close attention to their stations as he passed each of them.  He was an imposing figure, and years of command and intimidation had created a rigid authority that he enjoyed.  But he had not always been this way.  An attempt on his life years ago that had nearly succeeded but had cost him his wife and had left him much more hardened.  As he finally sat down in his command chair he rubbed the short black and gray hair as he often did when feeling frustrated.  His accidentally brushed the top of his right ear that was not as pointed as it had been before the attack he was forcing himself to push deep into the back of his disciplined mind.  The slightly weary man felt the presence of his first officer before he saw him appear at his side.  When he did look at him he could tell the blue skinned Andorian was pleased with the news he wanted to deliver.

"The battle goes well, Admiral.  The Borg vessel is damaged and the Tiberius is holding her own.  Shall I inform the Emperor of our progress?"  The lanky, officer said with a slight smirk.

"You would like that, wouldn't you Zremm?  Do you really think the Emperor wants to learn of how his flagship is doing from a blue-skinned alien like you?  I certainly don't think so."  Admiral Talbot said as he continued to look forward out the viewscreen.  He rubbed the long stubble on his chin.

"I only wish to tell the Emperor of our glorious battle and skill today.  I'm certain he would,...."  Zremm was cut-off as Talbot jumped up and back-handed him across the chin.  The Andorian fell slightly back and grabbed the bridge railing to catch himself.  He wiped at the blood forming on his chin as the personal guards of each officer quickly moved forward, but each were waved back by their masters.

"I thought I made myself clear before this.  I will make any reports to the Emperor.  The Tiberius is mine, best to remember that commander."  Talbot said as he forced himself to sit back down.  He had never liked Zremm.  The Andorian had risen in rank too quickly for Talbot's taste, much of the time under very questionable circumstances.

"Forgive my insolence, sir.  It won't happen again."  Zremm said as he pulled himself back up and adjusted his tunic.  His attempt at sincerity didn't fool Talbot as he glared at him with ice-blue eyes.

"See that it doesn't.  Now, go see Margon and this prisoner they brought back.  Confirm his identity and report back to me Zremm."  Talbot barked out and relaxed slightly.

"Yes, Admiral.  By your leave."  Zremm said as he gave the familiar hand salute which Talbot returned, if somewhat slowly.  He turned and left the bridge with his personal, blue-skinned guard trailing him.  Once the lift doors closed he grunted heavily and pounded the wall with his fist.  His antennae were still twitching visibly when the lift doors opened and he headed down the corridor.  As he walked on with his guard, Zremm heard a short whistle that he knew well coming from a nearby control alcove.  He smiled and stepped inside as he motioned for his guard to stand watch.

"Hey there, blue boy!  Looks like someone got your antennae in a bunch."  The familiar voice said as Zremm felt arms slip around him from behind and a sweet smell fill his nose.  He grabbed the hand on his chest and spun the attractive blonde woman around in front of him.  They kissed quickly and hard, each of them enjoying it immensely.

"Now, what brings the Admiral's woman down into this section, Lieutenant Barton?"

They are up to something. Bring me answers. A sultry female voice projected into the minds of her children as the shadow cloaked female form observed distant battles and assimilations on view screens deep in the heart of her personal vessel. New genetic material from only the finest of new species filtered through the Cooperative and downloaded to their nanites for enhancement during the drones next rejuvenation cycles. New minds were embraced with the warmth and power of unity with the Cooperative. Azure light radiated from the bio-mechanical systems and provided pale illumination compared to the light generated from the dozens of view screens as the Queen monitored each and every one of her children.

Millions of voices worked in harmony towards singular goals. Her goals. Millions of minds considered solutions to thousands of issues, all at her direction. Each was a unique voice bound and dedicated to a common purpose. Her.

"Enlarge grid 534563 and bring to primary view screen," she said as the machines about her carried out her command with no hesitation. "Full scan of area."

A rift in the fabric of space appeared before her, it's image provided by one of the many cloaked rhombic pyramid shaped scout vessels of the Cooperative. Information flooded through the Cooperative and to her as the ship conducted it's scans.

ALPHA SIGNAL DETECTED

Impossible! she thought to her self. It had been years since she had issued the first commands to search for such a signal and not much longer than she had given up hope for ever finding it again.

With a stray thought, orders were issued and implemented. Hidden agents, workers, and drones of the Cooperative were tasked with new objectives.

Locate anything came from the other side of the rift and secure it. Dispatch the nearest attack vessels to secure the rift.

She would personally attend to this new puzzle and her Cooperative instantly understood the importance of her objectives. The Collective had invaded space that the Cooperative claimed. Their transgressions would not go unpunished. Nor would the involvement of any of the lesser species in the Quadrant that managed to involve itself with her business.

The glass doors closed gently and formed the symbol of The Empire. D'Callan took a deep breath of fresh air and scanned the gravity chamber in the center of the room which housed one of his guests. Sauntering up to the prisoner D'Callan leaned against the body which flinched instantly.

"So I'm having a bit of a bad day so I'm going to cut, so to speak, straight to the chase. What were you doing outside the Emperors chambers?"

Silence came from the prisoner. D'Callan gently pushed the floating body.

"Come on now friend, lets not be rude. Speak and all will be fine, yes"

Still no answer but the terrified darting eyes spoke a thousand words.

"No words, no answers just silence yes. OK. So be it"

D'Callan thrust the scalpel he had taken from Margons ward into the heart of the helpless victim and the interrogator smiled as the body twitched and shook until it finally came to rest. Pressing a button on his belt the lifeless body began to lower from the gravity chamber. Facing the shocked expression of the victims face D'Callan cut the stitching that held the lips together.

"You can come out from the shadows Mr Dunn"

Dunn emerged from the corner of the room.

"Wasn't that a bit pointless?"

Turning D'Callan walked towards Dunn.

"Would you rather I take my anger out on you or her"

Dunn lowered his head, he had worked with the interrogator long enough to know not to criticize his methods.

"Forgive me sir.

D'Callan put his arm around Dunn's shoulder, the scalpel blade dangerously close to his eye.

"That insufferable Doctor has a human that I'm interested in, go and make sure he doesn't kill him. When he has had his fun bring it here.

Dunn nodded and began to leave but stopped as the interrogator added to his sentence.

"First, bring me the Klingon"

Margon took short and shallow breaths as he struggled to gain his composure.  How dare someone interfere with his work.  He had lost his temper, something he didn't do much since it didn't serve his purpose.  The broken jars lay on the floor as the fluid flooded around his feet. 

"I'm not cleaning it up" he muttered.  "Computer, drone 47"

The strange sound of a drone being released from its alcove  rose above the whir of machinery in his lab and a drone emerged.  This drone had no eyes, no mouth, simply a breathing hole in the center of a grey head.  Scars surrounded bands of black leather that lay horizontally strapped around where the face should be. 
"Clean this up!" Margon barked.

The seemingly mindless drone extended his mechanical arm and began to vacuum up the liquid at Margon's feet as the Dr. approached Quinn.

"Something's different about  you" he snarled, "Why do I get a sense that you aren't like my other subjects?"

Nathan tried not to panic as Margon methodically flicked a metal scalpel in his hand.  He felt the curiosity welling up in the Bolian as he peered down at him on the table.  "What are you going to do with me?" Quinn asked.  "What do you want from me Counselor?"

Margon paused and tipped his head to the left.  "What? What did you say?"

"I'm a Doctor, not a counselor" he said with disgust.  "Does this hurt?"  Margon pushed on one of the tubes that he had placed running into Quinn's head.  He had implanted Quinn with several devices, trying to discover his subject's unique abilities.

"Ahhhh" yelled Quinn as he felt himself starting to pass out.

"That answers my question", the Dr. smiled.  And then he pushed harder clamping off the tube.  Nathan lost consciousness. 

"Counselor?" he pondered.  "Why did he call me counselor?"

Something inside the Bolian clicked for a moment.  A brief impression ran through his devious mind.  Like a faint whisper during a raging storm he heard the words "That's because you are where I come from"

He dropped his scalpel onto the floor and it bounced a couple of times.  The sound of the metal hitting the floor echoed in the chamber. 

"He's a telepath!" this epiphany changed everything.   Margon's left eyebrow raised and he resolved to explain the mystery of his strange new guinea pig. 

"Computer, seal the doors"  He would have no one disturbing his new find.  "Interface holo matrix around test subject and table"  he said into the air.  The computer chirped and Margon took a metal probe from his jacket.  As he held it up into the light he touched a few buttons on the side of it and then smiled. 

"This ought to do the trick" he smiled.  "I wonder what we will find?" 

With that he thrust the metal spike into the base of Quinn's cerebral cortex. 

Nathan's eyes opened wide and he arched upwards as he felt the pain of the cold metal spike on his skull.  The pain was unbearable. 

The probe made an eerie sloshing sound as it connected to the brain.  The other end of the probe now began to light up and two small antennas emerged.  They began to send information to the holo emitters. 

The room began to change around them as Margon took readings on his medical tricorder. 

"Perfect" he mused.  "Your implants will speak to me my new friend, your implants will speak to me"  He reached down and stroked the side of  Nathan's face.  "There, there, it will all be over soon"

She could literally feel the feral hatred emanating from the interrogator, as she strode past him on her way out of David's room. She held his gaze fearlessly, and did her best to reflect the look of raw abhorrence.  Sevryll knew it perturbed him that a Vulcan would be allowed to do so. If she were any other woman, he would have slapped her down before the Emperor.... And yet, if she were any other woman she would not have had the courage to return the glower. 

Was it courage that drove her to willingly take the mantle she had been asked to accept?  The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. Those were Surak's words, but did she truly believe them? Logic had betrayed her people too many times for Sevryll to see the sense in such an assertion.

Surak's principals were once important to her, but that ended when her husband was assimilated. Through their bond, she felt autonomy viciously ripped from him... And then the link to her beloved was severed by the raucous drone of countless voices speaking as one. There was no logic in his suffering—no logic in her own. What was logic but a LIE told for the benefit of an oppressed people? Nothing... It was nothing but a lie...

Sevryll furiously fought the wave of nausea that washed over her as she exited the room and entered the corridor.  She needed another dose of the remedy Casey had created for her.  The mistress swallowed and headed quickly to her personal physician's quarters. She would need his help, not only to combat the uncomfortable symptoms, but to treat the man that David had released into her care. Peters, no doubt, would require medical attention after enduring D'Callan's cruel torture.

Rhys Peters awoke from a glorious dream and was greeted with the view of his small cell. He sighed as reality kicked out the last embers of sleep.He slowly sat up and his body protested in pain. He had been in this cell for quite some time now and his stay here had been a painful one.His face was covered in cuts and bruises and his clothes were tattered and torn. Memories of the last few days stabbed into his foggy mind.

Rhys Peters had been captured by the Empire a few days ago and he had been unceremoniously thrown him into this retched room without too much explanation. Something about treason, he couldn't remember exactly. But he did know the punishment for such a crime. The Empire had a reputation for dealing with traitors and Peters was keen not to experience it for himself. Not that he wasn't used to pain though.

Peters history had been full of pain, both mentally and physically. He had spent his adult life as a mercenary, never pledging himself completely to anyone, just in it for himself and and latinum that could be made. He was a huge athletic man and his shape and natural skill for fighting had kept him busy ever since.

But these last few days had been different. Now he was captured, no where to run and he was frightened, an emotion that he rarely felt. He had been visited by a stranger on a few occasions who had taken great pleasure in dishing out pain to him. Torture was not something Rhys had endured before, he was more into the good honest art of hand to hand combat, not the cowardly ways of this interrogator.

He swallowed hard as the thought of the sneering torturer entered his mind again. He lay back on the uncomfortable "bed", closed his eyes and tried to get back to the lovely dream had just had.

Sevryll leaned against the bulkhead outside Casey Peterson's room, as the lurking queasiness continued to challenge her resolve. It had almost overwhelmed her and the dizziness that accompanied the sensation, prompted her to brace herself. She closed her eyes and tried to regain her poise.  The pounding of boots on metal deck plates grew in amplitude, as a group of men stomped into the corridor. Startled by the noise, her eyes opened and her gaze abruptly turned from the ceiling to the soldiers. The crewmen ogled her lustfully before the realization, of just who the woman belonged to, washed over them. They soberly moved their attention to their boots or weapons and quickened their haste. The vessel shuttered again, reminding Sevryll that they were in the midst of a battle. How could she forget that the Borg were just beyond the bulkhead she leaned against?  The Vulcan drew a breath and straightened as the men passed, then she slowly turned to depress the door chime.

Just as her slender finger moved to touch the pad, the door opened to reveal a haggard individual. Casey wore the expression of a man whose burdens had carved permanent concern upon his face. A furrowed brow lifted and his hazel eyes widened when he saw his patient's flushed appearance and faded demeanor. 

"Mistress..." The ship lurched slightly and she gripped the doorframe to keep her balance. Doctor Peterson stepped forward and visually scanned  the corridor before ushering her inside, "please, come in." She stumbled into his room as the ship rocked violently. He caught her arm before she fell, and carefully lowered her into a chair. Without a word, the physician moved to gather a vile and a hypo from a nearby cabinet then began to prepared the remedy. "I need you to accompany me to the brig, doctor," said the Vulcan between swallows.
 
"You shouldn't go anywhere in your state. You need to rest," the doctor uttered sternly as he stepped forward and quickly pressed the device against her neck. She closed her eyes a moment as the injection worked within her to curtail the nausea.

She swallowed again and flicked her gaze upward to meet Casey's, "The Emperor has granted me permission to remove Rhys from the brig. I need him to help me carry out another assignment..." She paused; the drug began to relax her muscles, and she leaned back in the chair in relief. Casey's expression softened and he took a chair beside her. " He will require medical attention," she continued with a minor slur,  "I am certain you are aware of the interrogator's propensity for brutality. It is likely D'Callan has left Peters in poor health—he needs you doctor."

D'Callan was dangerous, and it was obvious to the doctor that the Interrogator hated Sevryll...Casey shivered as he recalled the torture that he had once endured in the interrogator's brig—Joseph D'Callan was merciless. Peterson raised a hand to touch the deep scar hidden in his short-cropped, brown hair and frowned. The only cause Sevryll should be fighting, was the fight to renew her health.

Casey was a noble man, and such a trait was rare within the Empire. Sevryll knew she would need an ally like Doctor Peterson to help her fulfill her task, and knowing the injustice that befell his Vulcan friend, the physician was all too willing to assist the General's wife. When the Emperor officially named Sevryll as his Mistress, he granted her one request. Aside from power, Sevryll was David Locke's one predilection. He was eager to turn her thoughts from the dead to himself... and so, without question, the Emperor appointed the Casey Peterson as the Imperial Physician. It was then that Sevryll realized the power she held over him. He may be the most formidable ruler the Empire had ever known, but she had learned to bend his will... 

joint post by HawkeyeMeds and wraith1701-


MIRROR UNIVERSE-


Dunn walked to the anonymous holding cell and looked through the glass panel.  He didn't like this prisoner; he was awkward, defensive and angry.  As he pressed the control panel the door shot up. He pointed his phaser into the darkness.

"Computer, remove holding clamps."

The sound of metal sliding back echoed out of the darkness and a growl began to stir.

Dunn stepped back.

"Walk slowly out of the cell.  Do not make any sudden movements Klingon, or i shall happily destroy you."

A growl echoed out of the darkness and a manacled Klingon stepped forward; he lifted his arms to his face to shield the light that burned his eyes.

"Move. The Interrogator feels the need to pass some time, and as you are his favorite toy at the moment he thought he'd bring you out to play."

The Klingon moved towards the doors, shuffling gently as the chains around his ankles limited his movement. Dunn watched the huge creature move towards the exit, taking an opportunity he kicked the door panel next to the Kilingon's.

"Wakey, wakey, Peters.  You might be next."

Dunn smiled and ran up to the Klingon, and pushed him.

"Come on, move!"

The doors to the interrogation chamber opened, and D'Callan watched the former Klingon Regent shuffle in.

Worf stared at the two Terrans, silently hoping that this would be the day that he could end his humiliation.  He had no idea of how long he had been their captive, or of where the cell was located.  The bare walls provided no access to the outside world, and the lighting went on and off at irregular intervals, no doubt in an effort to keep him in a state of constant disorientation.  But regardless of whether it took a month, or a year, he knew without a doubt that the day would come when his captors made a mistake. 

And when they did, he would make them pay in blood.

As he passed near the human called "Dunn", Worf flexed his shoulders, trying to restore some of the circulation to his arms.  He was gratified to see Dunn flinch at the motion.

Terrans, he thought.  So soft and frail.  If not for the meddling of the interlopers from the other universe, the Tera'ngan vermin would have been long stomped out like the tribbles they were.  Instead, here they were trying to recreate their lost Empire.

The taller Tera'ngan, the one called "D'callan", smiled evilly at Worf.  "Would you care for some blood wine, hmmmm?  Come on Worf, sit down, make yourself at home."

Worf returned the man's predatory grin with one of his own, and glanced at the room's walls.  "If you truly want to make me feel at home, perhaps you will allow me to redecorate.  I think the walls would look much better painted with your blood.  Remove my shackles, and I will be happy to demonstrate."

D'Callan erupted into a hearty laugh.  "That's the spirit, mate!"  He quickly approached Worf, obviously unafraid of the hulking Klingon.  "That's what makes you one of my favorite pets.  You just don't know when to quit!"

Worf felt his blood boil as he imagined his hands tearing apart the Tera'ngan's throat.  "I'll quit once your species has been returned to its rightful place at the foot of the Alliance."  His features twisted into an ugly leer.  "Enjoy your temporary power while you can, petaQ.  My son will be sending a fleet to cleanse your world with flame.  We shall see how much you laugh when your cities are burning down around you."

D'Callan's smiled stayed but his eyes had fire behind them.

"Fire, Worf?  Fire.  Would you like to see the flames, would you like to feel the heat?  Let us act out this childish imagination of yours."

D'callan turned to Dunn.

"Worf here is feeling a bit cold, a tad chilly. I think it would be rude of us not to offer heat and comfort to our guests.  Put him in the furnace."

Dunn looked slightly shocked at the idea, and D'Callan noticed.  Rushing towards him D'Callan grabbed his collars.

"NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He pushed Dunn back and sneered at Worf, who stuck out his chest in defiance and raised his manacled arms in a Mok'bara fighting stance.  D'Callans eyes widened in joyful anticipation of the attack.

Suddenly from behind, a phaser beam glided past him and hit Worf in the chest, stunning the Klingon to the ground.  D'callan spun round, his red eyes burning with rage.

"WHAT IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME ARE YOU DOING, DUNN?!?"

Dunn lowered his phaser.  He looked scared.

"I-I thought he was going to attack you sir, i thought it best to.."

D'Callans fist finished Dunn's sentence.

"I'll save killing you Dunn.  If i ever get a hint that you sympathize with any of these prisoners then i will have you transferred to suicide watch. Do you understand?"

Dunn nodded, and D'Callan smiled back at him.

"Now be a good sport, remove Worf, and get me whoever Margon is practicing on.  Oh, and Dunn.  Do not betray me."

D'Callan's last words echoed in Dunn's ears as he watched the Arch Interrogator walk gently to the main brig.

JOINT POST BY JEN & HAWKEYEMEDS

Physically experiencing her husband's assimilation by the Borg, made returning to normalcy impossible for Sevryll. That awful level of awareness, that bonded couples shared, had transformed her personality when she felt him slip from her forever. Her husband was not an ignorant man, but his loyalty kept him from protesting the day the Emperor sent him to capture a the Borg King. The general knew he would not return, but he expected to die in combat...not to become another subject of the King he was sent to dethrone. Sevryll's mind often returned to the morning she awoke from that nightmare of pain and fear, only to enter another within the waking world. She did not require a confirmation of her husband's doomed fate, and yet it came with an unannounced visit from Tevian's 'friend', Emperor Locke. He came to personally deliver the news, offer his condolences and...

The memory was brushed away as she, once again, felt a presence stir in her mind. When it first made itself known, the knowledge had inspired her to find the nearest airlock and surrender to the frozen void of space. But as the consciousness continued to develop, it became fused with her own. Though unwanted, the presence was all she had left.

"Are you OK?" Asked Casey as they continued down the dimly lit corridor toward the Brig. Silently, she nodded in affirmation. A handful of heartbeats later, they were stepping into D'Callan's realm.

The door wisked open with the speed of a viper, to reveal a grisly scene. The room was cold and dark, but Susan Cain's twisted form could be seen suspended in a gravity chamber across the room. Sevryll caught her breath as she recognized the Interrogator's wife. Doctor Peterson's etched face transitioned to a grimace.  He refrained from scanning for bio-signs, for it was obvious the woman was dead. Sevryll centered herself and began her search for Rhys.

A thud from behind caused the pair to spin around to see the body of Susan laying on the floor—her glassy eyes starring up at them. From the darkness just beyond, came the hissing voice of D'Callan.

"Your synopsis Doctor? My wife appears to be suffering from a broken heart..."

He laughed casually and bent down and touch her cold face. He stroked it gently and smiled,"its such a shame she had to leave me that way. Still another one bites the dust! Aye? Ha ha ha!"

Sevryll took a step forward. "D'Callan, we have come for the prisoner Peters, we have ord......"

D'Callan began talking loudly over her, "Its such a shame, Doctor, that you deem it necessary to contaminate my room with this green-blooded trollop!" Refusing to address her directly, he continued speaking to Casey, "I know why you are here. I trust you have the relevant.... paperwork?"

He sat down behind a duty station and leveled a disdainful gaze upon Sevryll.

The Vulcan was used to hearing prejudice comments from Terrans. Though the Empire no longer enslaved her people, there remained a deep seeded hatred in many humans. She lifted her chin and tilted her head slightly to study the scourge seated comfortably before her. He was looking for a reaction, and though he had hit a nerve with his slight, she chose not give him the satisfaction of a response. Sevryll let the moment stretch before she responded coolly,  "I have come to collect Rhys Peters. The Emperor's verbal directive is all the 'paperwork' you require."


D'Callans teeth clenched together as he quickly stood,  swooped up his chair and smacked it against  Casey's chest, causing him to fly into the wall. Sevryll fell back in an attempt to defend herself, but D'Callan was just as quickly upon her... his seething breath heating the side of her face, "I don't like you." He drew a deep breath, as he sniffed her neck, "I don't like your offensive smell...." He looked her up and down before leaning close to her ear. "I see the way you put your greasy hair behind that ridiculous pointed ear of yours, in a vein attempt at flirtation. It works with the Emperor, but I see through you Sevryll. I know you are up to something and when I discover what that is—and I will—I will personally enjoy removing swatches of your pale skin from every inch of your body." And with that he licked her cheek.

The rage that Sevryll kept hidden from the outside worlds, erupted in that moment and with all the strength of her Vulcan lineage she tossed the vile man off of her with a guttural cry that reverberated within the darkened brig. D'callan flew across the room. His back hit the floor with a metallic thud and he slid to a stop four meters away. He slowly got up, ran a hand through his black hair, and brushed off his tunic as his low chuckle grew into an evil laugh.

Breathing heavily, Sevryll walked past him to collect the prisoner who had silently watched from his cell. She felt the heat of the Interrogator's gaze burning her back as she and Doctor Peterson released the force field and walked Rhys out of the dungeon.

The almond shaped biotech command ship of the Queen of the Cooperative slid though space in the direction of the rift and battle taking place near it. Aria stepped free of her alcove at the heart the vessel and stretched seductively as her body accepted newly acquired genetic enhancement from species 9837. Beyond the donation of 20% of their population and key technological advancements, the gift of their genetic provided the Cooperative with multi-spectrum vision that would replace the current techno-organic implants used by many of her children.

The same genetic enhancements were also being integrated into the sensor systems of the Cooperative's biotech vessels.

Aria smiled as she adjusted to her new vision and could feel the success of the integration from many of her children. The hours that it would take to reach the battle gave her more than enough time to plan.

Soon she would change the universe for the better and no one would stop her.

Mirror Universe; on the fringe of Klingon space-


As he stepped aboard the Negvar, KoraQ quickly scanned the faces of the warriors arrayed before him.  They were the cream of the crop; all had worked, fought, and killed their way up the ladder for the opportunity to serve on the fleet's flagship.  Only here, at the bloody point of the Alliance's thrust into the heart of the Teran'gans' so-called 'Empire', would there be opportunities for True Glory.  KoraQ returned his warriors' salutes, pounding his clenched right fist smartly against his armored chest, and barked "Status!"

The ship's female Captain stepped forward, separating herself from the ranks.  "All ship's systems operating at peak performance!  Reactor generating 89 chaDvay' per cycle; 13 percent higher than fleet standard.  We carry a full load of 250 proton torpedoes, and the medical support deck has been reconfigured per your instructions to accommodate an additional 175 Mk. IV quantum torpedoes.  All disruptor banks have been tested to a confirmed accuracy of .25 qelI'qams per loghqam." 

The fetching young Captain risked a leering, conspiratorial smile at the admiral.  "Even Kahles himself couldn't help any who dared to oppose us!"

KoraQ returned the Captain's smile, his eye roving unabashedly to the deeply tanned cleavage revealed by her formfitting armor.  "Outstanding!" he replied.  "If fortune smiles on us, we will have a chance to put your bragging to the test very soon!" 

KoraQ stomped down the metallic boarding ramp leading to the deck of the docking bay.  His metal-shod boots echoed loudly with each step.  "Any word from the Regent?"

"Yes, Admiral," the Captain replied, falling into step beside him.  "Regent Alx'Andar has left instructions for you; you can retrieve them from any data terminal."

"I wish to review them in my quarters," KoraQ replied.  "Lead the way, Captain!"

"Of course, Admiral," she replied.

As he followed the captain into the dimly lit corridor, KoraQ marveled at her form; he felt almost mesmerized as he watched her well toned buttocks flexing hypnotically beneath the tight leather of her combat leggings.  "Marvelous," he muttered quietly. 

"Admiral?" she replied, glancing over her shoulder.

"Nothing," KoraQ replied, dragging his eyes back up to meet hers.  "Carry on, Captain."

Minutes later, the pair stood in KoraQ's spartan quarters, looking on as the red trefoil of the Klingon Empire sprang to life on the Admiral's computer monitor.  The captain turned to KoraQ.  "Should I leave, Admiral?"

"No," KoraQ replied.  "I believe in full disclosure among my command staff.  If you are to fight, and possibly die with me, you deserve to know the reasoning behind it.  Remain."

At the touch of a button, the image wavered and vanished, to be replaced by a recording of the youthful but stern face of the newly-minted leader of Civilized Space.  The youth's auburn colored beard lent him an air of authority far beyond his 28 years.  Alx'Andar's thick eyebrows drew together, giving his smile a sinister, commanding weight. 

"Admiral KoraQ.  I present to you the crown Jewel of my fleet, the I.K.S. Negvar.  With this ship beneath your feet, you should have no problem freeing my father from the clutches of the vile Tera'ngans and their so-called Emperor, David Locke.  The Captain of the Negvar is HoD K'Lara, a warrior of prodigious cunning and unmatched talents."  Regent Alx'Andar's leering grin turned especially lascivious.  "Both on the bridge, and in the bunk, if you take my meaning," he added with a wink.  "But keep in mind, Admiral; I'm especially fond of K'Lara.  She may well be my future consort."

Alx'Andar leaned forward, his face taking on a stern cast.  "You are to make use of her talents only as they pertain to your mission.  If you honor me and my father, you will seek... recreation elsewhere.  That is all."  The Regent raised his fist and slapped it against his chest in salute.  "Qpla!"

As the screen went dark, K'Lara stepped closer to KoraQ, and sniffed seductively at the nape of his neck.  "He wasn't joking, you know," she said, her voice growing husky.  "About my talents, I mean."

KoraQ whirled, shoving the captain away from him.  "Are you mad?  You heard what he said!  I owe Worf and his House too much to dishonor his son thru cuckoldry!"

As KoraQ stood staring at the darkened monitor, he almost didn't hear K'Lara approaching him once more.  He did, however, hear the whistling of her hand as it cut through the air, striking him firmly across the lower lip.  As he stared at her in astonishment, K'Lara's other fist shot out as well, catching the stunned Admiral squarely in the jaw. 

KoraQ turned and calmly spit a bloody tooth onto the deck before facing the captain with a vicious grin.  He chuckled mirthlessly.

"I don't know whether you are trying to challenge my authority or come on to me.  But it doesn't really matter."  His eyes burning with rage, KoraQ slowly drew his dagger.  As he held the gleaming blade before him, he whispered in a soft, dangerous voice.  "Beloved of the Regent or not, I will send your soul to Stovokor!" 

Raising a hand to her lips, K'Lara playfully smiled, and licked KoraQ's blood from one of her knuckles.  "What a shame," she said with a smirk.  "I'd expected more from a warrior with your reputation.  To think that you'd be scared off by a mere boy!"

KoraQ bellowed with rage and frustration, then drew back and threw his blade with all of his strength.  To her credit, K'Lara didn't flinch as the blade whizzed by her head, missing her by centimeters and burying itself into the wall behind her. 

She once again approached the Admiral, her eyebrows lowered seductively.  "I'm flattered by the Regent's attention, but I belong to no one!  If I see something I want, I take it.  That is the Way Of The Warrior, is it not?"  She placed a hotly burning hand on the back of KoraQ's neck, pulling his face closer to hers.  KoraQ's shoulders quivered as duty struggled against lust within him.

"Come now, Admiral; I see the way you look at me," K'Lara said.  "I know that you want me.  So what are you; a Warrior, or a frightened slave?" 

KoraQ grasped K'Lara and kissed her fiercely, then shoved her onto his bare, metal bunk.  "I fear no one!" he bellowed.

Many decks below, the mighty warp core of the Negvar thrummed to throbbing, pulsating life.  With an explosion of eye-searing light, the deadly ship leaped into warp, bound for the Terran system. 

Mirror Universe
Joint post with Bryancd, Hawkeyemeds and moyer777

The lights seemed to brighten and a bridge of a starship emerged around Margon and Quinn.  Seated in the captains chair was Nathan and he was giving orders to crewman that were strangley dressed in uniforms that were similar but not quite like the one's Margon was acustomed too.

"Where are we?" asked Margon.

"Sit down counselor, take you seat" said Quinn.  He was beginning to believe he was back on the Arabella.

The red alert Klaxton sounded as two borg materialized on the bridge.

"Margon!  Watch out!" yelled Quinn.  Margon ducked as a mechanical arm swept across his head.

"Computer freeze program!" he said startled.

The borg hung in time and space as the whole bridge froze.  That is all except Quinn and Margon.

"Where are you from? What ship is this?"

Quinn was feeling naucious now and almot threw up.  The drugs that Margon had injected into his body were causing him to be dizzy.

"Counselor, why would you ask me such a question" he slurred as he began to lose his fight to stay awake.

"Don't sleep yet my friend!" Margon said as he pulled his tazer from his pocket.

"ZAP!"

The electric current jarred Nathan awake again.

"What's going on?"  He said disoriented.

Margon walked to the side of the bridge and read the name of the ship.  "The U.S.S. Arabella?"  The united federation of planets?  What the?"

Just then Dunn arrived at Margons door and he went to walk in but hit the glass doors. Tapping the control panel on the side the door remained still.

"Computer," he snarled,"open Dr. Margon's door!"

"UNABLE TO COMPLY. DOORS ARE SEALED FROM THE INSIDE"

Dunn punched the door and began to shout as the blood rushed to his face.

"Margon, what are you doing in there!? I have orders to take your pet away!"

Margon, absorbed in this holo fantasy heard Dunn.

"Oh curse that wretch" he said under his breath.

An angry muffled voice came from behind the doors.

"Stay on the other side of the glass Dunn"

Dunn went to tap his communication badge to inform the interorgator but stopped. He didn't want to upset him again recalling the last time he had. He flinched as the memory of that pain lingered still. If Margon had sealed the door it meant that the patient was going to be in a seriously bad way. He raised his phaser and increased the setting and fired at the glass.

Streams of glass splintered into Margons lab.  One of the chunks lodged in Margon's cheek and blood splatterd onto Quinn.  The probe in the back of the Captain's neck dislodged and the entire simulation came to a grinding halt.  Margon  dived for cover behind the body of Quinn. Dunn ran in and quickly scanned the room, the hands of the Dr. came into view and clasped onto the tubes connected into Quinn, he raised himself up and glared at the intruder.

"Who gave you permission to interrupt my experiments?"

Dunn stepped through the shattered glass, the crunching sound echoed through the chambers.

"The Emperor wants him alive, D'callan wants him alive. I see you are having fun as usual, but this time I'm not going to take the fall and the consequences you blue sadist."

Margon's anger flared, but he controlled himself.  "...and you're lucky I didn't kill you where you stand.  I have powerful friends, I will have you gutted for this."

Dunn smiled and pointed his phaser at Margon. "Remove the tubes, lift him up and put him in the chair." Dunn said, trying to project an image of calm as his stomach was in knots. Margon did indeed have powerful friends.

"No, I'm not finished with him yet." he said glaring at Dunn.

"I said give him to me, or I will take great pleasure in seeing you on the receiving end of your toys."

Margon's lip quivered only slightly as he whispered, "Computer, security measure 35, Dr. Margon."

With that a cloud of gas began to spray from the ventilation ducts.  A low growl was heard from behind Dunn.  He turned to see a Klingon Targ baring his teeth and crouched ready to jump.

Joint Post by Jen, Trekkygeek and Iceman


"Are you OK doctor?" Asked Sevryll as they trudged through passageway with Rhys Peters dragging between them.

Her breathing was still heavy, and Casey was concerned that D'Callan had injured her, "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

Assessing the damage, she directed the question inward. After a moment she replied in a hushed tone, "we are fine."

"What's this all about?" Inquired Rhys as the three entered the doctor's quarters.

Peterson and Sevryll hauled the former prisoner to a sofa and carefully helped him onto it. "I have secured your release, with the stipulation that I perform a mind meld to glean any information of value to the Empire," said Sevryll. She wearily fell into a near by chair and wiped her sleeve over the place D'Callan's tongue had violated her cheek. She found herself feeling sick again, but the cause was not related to her affliction. She wished she had cut off D'Callan's tongue, instead of throwing him across the room. But violence had never been her modus operandi.

Doctor Peterson looked over Rhys' deep gashes. D'Callan must be taking lessons from Margon, he thought to himself as he used the dermal regenerator to repair the open cuts and broken bones; the deep purple bruising seemed to encompass his entire his body.

Sevryll watched as Rhys' wounds were treated, "I have my own reasons for freeing you--I require your hacking skills; my contact has requested this vessel's shield modulation codes. Doctor Margon's lab is the best place with which to access that information. It is secluded, and I believe I can bribe the Bolian into cooperating."

Peters was surprised at how quickly things had changed. One minute he was sitting in his cell, wondering what would become of him, and the next he found himself having his wounds tended to with skill and compassion.

So, his hacking skills were required once more. It had been a long time since he had hacked anything serious, and he hoped technology hadn't accelerated too far since that assignment. Peters tried not to display his self-doubt as he frowned up at Sevryll, "I want triple the latinum your contact paid me last time!"

"Yes, of course...." she replied. "You will have your payment. I will speak to Margon, and map the layout of his lab in case he fails to find my offer tempting."

Peters relaxed slightly as the doctor tended to his wounds. He felt the familiar tingle as the dermal regenerator worked busily over his bald, bruised head and thought about what Sevryll had offered him. He had worked for her before, and things had run smoothly on those occasions, but this job sounded more complex. Sevryll had not flinched when he had asked for triple the latinum, which led him to believe that this mission was both dangerous and crucial. It was this fact, along with his broken and beaten body, that made the decision to aid her, easy to make. He would help Sevryll because the job would put him in a position to give this "D'Callan" a little of his own medicine. For the first time in many days, a smile appeared on Rhys' cracked lips.

Casey looked up from his work to see an odd expression cross his patient's swollen face. His Betazoid senses told him that Rhys was not delirious, but rather pleased with the opportunity that Sevryll had provided him. The doctor turned back to his appointed task, moving the regenerator over Rhy's broken ribs. The severity of his wounds brought Casey back to the time when he had the misfortune of experiencing D'Callan's torture first hand; he still carried deep physical and mental scars from that encounter. Even the memory of that incident caused Casey physical pain; an unfortunate testament to the effectiveness of D'Callans skill and zeal for his own work...if you could call it that.

There were many who harbored a great hatred for the Interrogator. Yet D'Callan was responsible for the death of Casey's wife, Myella, and the doctor's animosity for Joseph ran far deeper than the chasm that separated him from Myella's departed spirit. Perhaps he would finally have the chance to exact a slow and painful revenge on the man who had killed her with a smile.

Joint Post by Jen and Just X

The Queen of the Cooperative silently observed the movements of the ships involved in the prolonged battle. She watched impassively as neither group made any significant progress against their enemies. Her heart pounded in anticipation of what lay beyond the rift and the ramifications of that discovery.

Aria's mind reached out through the web of thoughts that comprised the Cooperative and its agents, how is your assignment proceeding. She thought to one of her most well placed operatives.

Sevryll sat upright in her chair as the voice entered her mind. A moment later, the presence within her stirred again—it was obvious it too had heard the Queen's call. The Vulcan glanced to Peterson and Rhys, the doctor was occupied with treating his patient, who had fallen asleep on the sofa. Sevryll closed her eyes and responded in thought. We have recovered Peters. The doctor is treating him presently. D'Callan may attempt to hinder my efforts.


I will be arriving soon and the time for masquerades will then be lifted. You will also be greatly rewarded for your efforts and sacrifices. Aria thought as her ship drew closer to her agents. Soon, the Empire and Alliance will be replaced with something all the more superior. We are curious as to what our hated rivals were doing at the rift. Ships will soon arrive to extract all assets and reward their efforts. The Cooperative is quite pleased with your progress.



Aboard her ship, Aria reached out to other operatives and prepared them for their assignments. It might take some time, but the galaxy would soon be under her control. With each step, she would make things better. At the heart of the Cooperative, Aria monitored millions of tasks at once. She tested newly acquired genetic material on distant drones, and enhanced the rest of the Cooperative with successful results. Her own form, while retaining much of her former appearance, contained the genetic and technological enhancements of over two hundred species. To the elite of the Cooperative, she granted the best enhancements.


Sevryll had been granted a more advanced telepathy, to enable communication with the Cooperative. The Vulcan had declined anything beyond that, but Aria would not be refused for long. Though this version of Sevryll was not her real mother, she was genetically identical to the woman who had birthed her some twenty years prior. That woman, and her father Aeric, were lost and she had no hope of ever recovering them. No, this Sevryll was all the family Aria had, and she took care of her own...whether they liked it or not.


We will contact our operative aboard the Alliance flagship and see if they hold information that might be of use. Aria thought to Sevryll then turned her mind toward another spy.


Casey finished treating Rhys and rolled his gaze toward the Vulcan woman; she was nodding in response to a statement he could not hear. Yet he was half Betazoid, which meant he could sense her mood, and the pervading tone of her demeanor had changed. The turbulence that D'Callan stoked within her, had been suppressed—her anger replaced by an air of expectancy. 

Mirror Universe-



Like a titanic, green-hued spear, the Negvar pierced the barrier separating normal space from subspace, forcing itself into a realm where the mundane laws of physics did not apply.  Protected only by the thin skin of its warp bubble, the battle cruiser rapidly attained a comfortable cruising speed of 292 times the speed of light, steadily closing the gap between itself and the unsuspecting hordes of the Tera'ngan Empire.

At the rear of the bridge, Admiral KoraQ smiled.  As he turned to address the helmsman, the towering Admiral winced.  Judging by the ache in his side, two of his recently broken ribs had just scraped together, producing a flash of sharp, grinding pain.  KoraQ's eye briefly touched on Captain K'Lara, sitting at the elevated command throne.  Quite a spirited woman, he thought, reflecting on the previous night's tryst. 

KoraQ returned his attention to the helm, leaning over the station to rest a heavily callused hand on the navigator's shoulder.  "Estimated time to arrival at Terran space?"

"At current speed, we should arrive at the perimeter of Tera'ngan controlled space within 1.5 days." 

KoraQ nodded in approval.  One way or another, he would soon be able to release Regent Worf from the humiliation his capture had brought to both his House and the Alliance.  He would either free him, or at the least, free his soul to move on to Stovokor while his captors died around him. 

KoraQ's attention was captured by an insistent beeping coming from the tactical station.  Before he could inquire about the cause, the Tactical Officer turned to address Captain K'Lara.  "Sensors are picking up massive energy readings, as well as a large quantity of spatial debris in our path.  If we don't alter course, we will intercept in less than an hour."

K'Lara turned to KoraQ.  "We should come out of warp and investigate.  Any intelligence we might pick up from the site might aid our mission."

As he thoughtfully stroked his goatee, KoraQ silently nodded in assent.

"Engage cloak," the Captain ordered, turning back to face the viewscreen.  As the command was carried out, the bridge lighting dimmed to a deep red.  She glanced at the helmsman.  "Once we come within 90,000 qelI'qams of the site's perimeter, take us out of warp and hold position."

Moments later, the streaks of starlight filling the forward viewscreen compressed and resolved into familiar pinpoints of light.  The familiarity was starkly contrasted, however, by the image dominating the view. 

A barely discernible incongruity in the very fabric of space seemed to flicker in and out of existence.  KoraQ rubbed his eyes, unsure of whether or not what he thought he was seeing was actually there, or simply an effect of eye strain.  It looked as though the area in the center of the screen was sporadically going in and out of focus; the stars around the area seemed to flicker-- one moment they were clearly visible, and the next, they seemed to momentarily wink out of existence.  The effect was made all the more strange by the intermittent flashes of faint light that seemed to accompany each shift.  As odd as it was, though, this little curiosity wasn't nearly as interesting as the scene playing out around it.

Arrayed before the anomaly, a fierce battle was taking place; the flash of phaser blasts and torpedo detonations reflected hellishly from the metallic debris littering the area .  And there, in the midst of the debris...

KoraQ's blood froze as he recognized the geometric form of several Borg craft.  Honorless, cybernetic ko'tal! he thought.  What are they doing here? 

Weaving in and out of the debris field surrounding the Borg ships was the familiar form of a Tera'ngan Mêlée Class Frigate.  At the moment, the ship seemed to be holding her own; brilliant orange spears of destructive energy lanced out from her multiple phaser banks, mercilessly carving into the soulless Borg ships. 

"Report!" Captain K'Lara ordered. 

The Tactical officer turned in his chair.  "Records indicate that the Frigate is a ship called the Tiberius.  Her weapons compliment is considerable, and her shields appear to be holding up to the Borg assault.  As for the spatial distortion... I-I'm not sure, Captain!"  The officer's face screwed up in bafflement.  " Whatever the anomaly is, it is interfering with our sensors.  The readings I'm getting make no sense.  The quantum signature of the entire area seems to be in a state of flux!"

KoraQ mentally shut out the Tactical officer's confused reply; space distortions and anomalies were not his concern.  What did concern him was the presence of the Borg.  They had made incursions into Klingon space in the past, sweeping through the sector like a force of nature. Death and destruction had been left in their wake, it it was only by the grace of Kahles that the Empire and her Cardassian allies had managed to finally drive them off. 

As contrary as it was to nature, a small part of KoraQ had hoped that he had seen the last of this cold, emotionless foe.  It appeared that this was not to be the case.  The reappearance of the cybernetic enemy would complicate matters...

The Admiral stepped to the command seat, keying the hailing switch on K'Lara's chair.  "I hope these encryption algorithms are as secure as those Spoonheads in the Obsidian Order claim," he muttered.  "I'd hate to have either the Terrans or the Cyborgs out there listening in on our communications." 

After waiting for the prompt from the Captain's armrest interface, the giant Klingon Admiral spoke in calm, even tones.   "KoraQ to Alliance fleet.  Initiate program 'tlhIngan qul'."   He thumbed the 'transmit' button, then looked down at the seated Captain.  "Maintain position and continue to monitor the battle.  I will have orders for you shortly."

Without another word, KoraQ turned and stalked off of the bridge, leaving the Captain with more than a few unanswered questions.

"You do know that Talbot would kill you with his bare hands if he knew what you were doing with me."  The sheen of sweat sparkled on the lithe back of Marie Barton as she laid across the blue skinned chest under her.  She looked over at her very small two piece uniform and boots on a nearby chair.

"I'd like to see the old man try.  I've got many supporters on the Tiberius Marie and Talbot's losing his touch.  Besides, I thought you enjoyed what I was doing to you a few minutes ago.  Didn't you?"  Zremm said with a sly grin.  Marie shifted slightly as she flipped back her long blonde hair.

"Oh, I guess my screams kind of gave me away.  Hehe.  But I'm serious now.  Don't underestimate Talbot.  He hasn't gotten this far in the Empire and put in command of this ship because he was lucky.  The man has some type of sixth sense.  Might be that Romulan blood, I don't know.  But watch your back around him, blue boy."  Marie said as she nuzzled the side of the Andorian's neck.

"I'll be fine Marie.  You watch your pretty back too.  Damn, I hate to think of you with him!  He could be your father!"  Zremm said in a frustrated tone.

"It's ok blue.  Lately he leaves me alone anyway.  I think he's been thinking about his wife again.  That always gets him into a mood.  Now aren't you suppose to be checking on this prisoner that Margon's been working on?"  She said.

"Let Margon have his fun for a little while longer.  I have better things to do right now."  Zremm said as he quickly flipped Marie over and got on top of her.  She smiled up at him and ran her fingers over his white hair and antennae.

"I guess I won't be making my shift in engineering on time.  Well, being the Admiral's woman does have it's advantages."  She said as she giggled and felt Zremm reach his hand around her neck and pull her face up to his.  They kissed and soon the personal guards of each of them outside Zremm's quarters were trying to ignore the loud sounds and noises coming from within.

His ancient ancestors were Vikings, and David Locke carried many of their physical attributes. He was taller than most Terran men, broad shouldered and heavily built. His fierce blue eyes were as cold as the frozen land of his forefathers. Crows feet furrowed deep lines at the corner of his eyes, and they arched over high cheekbones when he leered or grinned. David's cropped blond hair was stippled with white, as was the neatly kept beard that grew on his chin. He scratched at it as he watched the view screen.  The Emperor's black leather tunic groaned as he crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. The fleet had disabled several cubes, but not without a price. They had lost two of his best ships and the battle still waged on, but the tide was turning in the Empire's favor.

A pulsing red light washed over the bridge, signifying the high alert status. The deck plates shuttered beneath his feet as their shields absorbed the energy beams that lanced out from the lead cube. The Admiral stood at the center of the bridge barking orders, "fall into attack pattern 'Gambit 1'! Tell the Brood Of Vipers and the Dagger's Blow to follow our lead!"

Admiral Talbot was the supreme commander of the Empire's Fleet, and Locke had not been dissatisfied with the man's initiatives. Yet the responsibility had not always belonged to Talbot.  Before Talbot, General Tevian was in command, and it would have remained so if the Emperor had found Sevryll unappealing.

After the general's unfortunate demise, David gave Admiral Talbot the task of overseeing the Borg expulsion. The ruler expected protests from his military advisers regarding Talbot's Romulan heritage, for the same complaints were voiced with fervor when the Vulcan General was appointed. His advisers insisted that Terrans command the might of the Empire's forces, but David did not evaluate one's prowess as a leader by studying a family tree. It was deeds and conduct during the heat of battle that earned individuals lofty positions within Locke's Empire. Talbot's Romulan blood no doubt contributed to his cunning, but DNA was nothing more than a mere footnote to David. The half-breed was a proven commander and capable soldier. As long as Talbot didn't have a wife that turned the Emperor's head, he would richly rewarded after the current battle was won. The Emperor smiled as Tiberius returned fire.

JOINT POST BY MOYER777 & HAWKEYEMEDS

Dunn's look of worry was noticed by Margon.  The Bolian's lips turned to a blue smile.

"How's your adrenaline now young man, are you scared? You should be. One click of my fingers and you will be torn to pieces quicker than you could blink"

The yellow button on Dunn's phaser was less than an inch away, if he was quick and he would have to be quick, he may be able to get a quick burst out and save himself. Margon crept closer to Dunn teasing him by lifting his fingers, the beast gnashed at the table to the right of Dunn.

The gas had filled the top of the lab and was creeping down toward the motley crew.

"Where is your boss now eh?" teased Margon.  "What's the matter, have you lost your savior?"  blood trickled from his wound on his face.

And with that Margon clicked his fingers and in an instant the beast lept into the air with a screeching howl, light glinted off the Targ's razor teeth.

Dunn instantly moved his finger and his phaser lit up, the orange beam hit a collection of Borg filled glasses and the yellow acidic liquid exploded hitting Margon, the beast and Dunn himself.  Some of it even splashed onto the squirming Quinn.  The beast caught the main impact of the burning liquid but it was Margon who screamed more. Part of the skin on his face burned and seeped away, his arms flailing in the air like a trapped mouse in a cage.

The restraints on Captain Quinn's right arm were burning away.  The acid smoke rose to meet the green haze that was encroaching upon them.

Dunn's right arm that had held the phaser had too been caught with the liquid and he had ran to the side of the room, past the dazed body of Quinn and had manically began washing his arm in the water. Dunn didn't loose his gaze from the screaming Margon.

"Where's your medical expertease now Doctor?"  yelled Dunn.

Margon dropped to his knees his left hand holding the remains of the side of his face.  He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small cylinder.  He put it up to his mouth as the gas reached his face and took a deep breath.   Margon looked up his eyes aflame.  He leveled his gaze at Dunn  took the object from his mouth and hissed "You will pay Mr. Dunn, you will pay dearly I have the antidote, something I suspect would come in handy right about now"

Dunn's head began to spin, the gas was taking it's toll.  He had to get out of this room.  The Targ lay steaming on the floor.  He could only start for the door.  He stumbled and fell onto Quinn.  He tried to grab himself before he crashed to the floor taking the metal instruments that lay on the tray next to the metal table. The surgical tools fell on him, two of the scalpels sunk into his neck and Dunn could barely make out the sounds of the Dr. beside him.

Margon wasted no time in injecting Quinn with a serum that stopped Nathan from gasping for air.  He held a cloth to his burning face and breathed from his respirator.  What he didn't expect was the Captain's next move.

Quinn's right arm was free now, and even though he could feel his skin burning from the acid he took advantage of Margon's precarious position.  With one movement his fist struck Margon's injured cheek causing the Dr. to cry out in pain and fall back.  The metallic device fell out of his mouth and he began to choke.  He couldn't keep his balance and tumbled over Dunn onto the floor.

Nathan wasted no time in trying to free his other bonds, if he was going to escape, now was his chance.

The faceless drone walked calmly over to the lifeless men on the floor, bent down and began to mop up the acid stained floor as it's black fingers began to steam.

JOINT POST BY RICO & JEN


To David Locke, war was an insatiable hunger. Allowing others to fight for him was the one "benefit" of imperial rule that he could do without. He wanted to fill his belly with battle, not endure its painful rumble. He did obtain some satisfaction in watching the victories of his soldiers, but part of him longed to return his life as a warrior.  His title demanded that he remain out of harm's way, but he always managed to bend that rule...as he had in this instance. The Tiberius was in the midst of a dangerous battle and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Admiral Talbot turned his bridge over to Commander Zremm, and entered the Ready Room with David.  "Emperor, you look well sir."  Talbot said as he moved his arm in salute, and scanned the Terran with his eyes.  It was an old habit he had formed. He used it study a person he didn't trust when he was in a private area with them... and Talbot had never trusted Emperor David Locke.

"Dispense with the false pleasantries, Admiral.  What of the battle?"  replied David, addressing the much older man with a sharp and impatient tone. The Emperor recognized the fact that his brusque nature was intimidating to many, and he utilized this quality at every opportunity.  In this case however, the Admiral seemed unaffected by his curt manner. Though he was of a lower class, David respected the Romulan half-breed.  He eyed the Admiral in silence a moment before a slight grin cracked his stern expression.

"The fleet has the Borg on the run.  We have destroyed or disabled several of those cybernetic monstrosities they call ships, and are performing a sweep of the area.  Long range scans detect no other Borg vessels within range."  The tall man said as he paced  before the seated Emperor.  Something had him more on edge today and he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

A melodic chime interrupted his thought, and the door to the Ready Room whisked open. Sevryll inclined her head decorously to each of the men, "forgive my intrusion..."

The Emperor's fondness for the Vulcan betrayed him, and his hardhearted expression softened, "come in," said smoothly, and gestured for her to enter. Sevryll moved to stand beside the seated Emperor. David turned back to Talbot, , "Continue!" He snapped in an effort to regain the knife-edge of his voice.

As the men proceeded with their discussion, the Emperor's Mistress subconsciously raised an eyebrow in realization. She shifted her gaze to the Admiral and discreetly studied Talbot's face. The man's rigid demeanor did not alter, and his eyes did not move to meet her own.

The Cooperative's gift of enhanced telepathy, granted Sevryll the ability to sense the thoughts and feelings of others, while her Vulcan disciplines enabled her to block the unwanted probes of other telepaths. Both abilities proved to be valuable instruments of espionage, and she used them sparingly in order to avert detection.

Outside the Ready Room, the Vulcan felt an air of hostility. Now that she was in the same room that feeling was intensified. Sevryll watched the Admiral with interest as he briefed David. The resentment she perceived was emanating from the older officer, and bubbling just out range of obvious detection. His thoughts were well guarded, but she could sense the contempt he held for David just below the surface. She wondered what injustice had befallen the Admiral and pondered whether his rage could be useful to them both.

As Talbot discussed the status of the Tiberius and her damaged systems, a small tingling sensation started to form in the back of his mind.  It was subtle, but it began to distract him.  Even though his mind was no where near as disciplined or telepathic as a full Vulcan or even full Romulan for that matter, the Admiral had enough history dealing with telepaths over the years to know when he was being scanned - even the most subtle probes failed to escape his notice.  He quickly worked to bury the emotions that had begun to take over, as the Emperor taunted him with questions he already knew the answers to.  Talbot shot a quick glance to the beautiful Vulcan woman at the side of the Emperor and let slip a slight smile.  She averted her eyes and brushed back a lock of black hair in a casual fashion, but she knew Talbot had somehow detected her probe.  She chanced another look at Talbot and saw his smile stretching to a grin - a sight she seldom had seen appear on the man's face.

"Emperor, pardon my asking, but is it important for Sevryll to hear of these military matters?  I'm certain she can find something more interesting to attend to. Perhaps she might use her 'special gifts' on this Terran we found on the Borg King's vessel.  I'm certain he might appreciate a visit from such an attractive woman after being amongst so many ugly drones.  I think we can..."  Talbot was cut off as the Emperor leaped to his feet and grabbed the larger man by the tunic, pushing him hard against the bulkhead.  In a heartbeat, he had a blade pressed to the Admiral's throat.  A small cut began to form and a trickle of green streamed down the Admiral's neck.

"You forget your place, Talbot.  I've killed men for less.  Just say the word my love, and I will gut the half-breed.  I'm sure your successor, Zremm, would avoid the mistake of insulting my mistress."  Few things brought this type of response from David, except the matters involving the woman he loved.  Sevryll knew well that all she had to do was bow her head and Talbot's life would be over. Yet she could see that the Admiral did not fear death. In fact, she sensed that he might welcome it.  The blatant disregard for life that glinted in Talbot's eyes was all too familiar, for it shone in her own as well. Only the loss of a mate could ignite an inferno such as the one she felt smoldering within Talbot. Why hadn't he used his hate to destroy David? The question was a curiosity that begged to be answered.

"Please..." she gasped. "I am honored by your offer, Emperor... but I was not offended." David stared at the Vulcan a moment, giving her ample opportunity to change her mind. When she failed to do so, he patted the side of Talbot's face with a black gloved hand.

"You are fortunate that she is so forgiving. You are a great warrior, Talbot... a valuable asset to the Empire, but your perceived value will vanish like ice in hell if you even breath Sevryll's name in polite greetings." The Emperor flashed a grin at Talbot, "thank you for the briefing, Admiral."

While the seething Terran still faced the Admiral, the Romulan heard Sevryll's voice echo in his mind, "I know your loss, brother...He has brought ruin upon me as well. I intend to see him suffer for it. Will you help me?" David turned back to Sevryll and she left the Ready Room on his arm.  As she left, she caught Talbot giving her a quick nod of his head and slight smile.  Sevryll knew at once she had added Talbot to her growing list of allies.

Mirror Universe-


Traveling at the relatively slow speed of warp 3, the assemblage of Klingon and Cardassian warships known as The 6th Fleet crept towards Terran space, following the lead of KoraQ's flagship.  At the head of the collection of Birds Of Prey, D-type Battle Cruisers, Hedeki Fighters, and Galor attack ships, was an odd vessel that looked like a hybrid of Klingon and Terran technology.  The small ship had a vaguely saucer-shaped profile, but the port and starboard sides of the saucer were stretched out and swept down like the wings of a Bird Of Prey.  Integrated into the thick, wing-like protrusions were Terran-style warp nacelles.  On the front of each wing, the hot red oval of an active bussard collector glowed brightly.  A few meters next to each of the forward facing bussards was a pulse disruptor cannon, giving the ship the ability to emit twin bursts of rapid-fire disruptive energy at any target in its path. 

On the bridge of the odd-looking ship, an equally odd crew sat focused on their stations.  In the command chair sat a tall, lanky Klingon Captain, his dusky face scarred from countless battles.  At each of the stations lining the wall of the bridge sat a motley collection of Klingons, Cardassians, and Terran slaves.  At communications, a svelte Cardassian woman turned to address the brooding Klingon.  "Captain Vass, we are receiving a transmission from the flagship.  Audio only." 

"Well, let's hear it,  Seska," he replied.  With the press of a button, the familiar booming voice of Admiral KoraQ echoed from the speakers- "KoraQ to Alliance fleet.  Initiate program 'tlhIngan qul'."

As the motley crew exchanged looks of confusion, the Klingon captain smiled grimly to himself.  'TlhIngan qul', or 'Klingon Fire', was a last resort plan, only to be put into effect if the Borg should reappear.  Known only to a select few members of the Defense Force, it involved arming a device now installed on a few, select Klingon ships-- a Thalaron Generator.  Once armed, the device turned the ship housing it into a Thalaron warhead.  On detonation, the generator would create a cascading biogenic pulse of Thalaron radiation large enough to encompass a praxis-sized moon. 

Scorned by many societies because of its deadly nature, Thalaron radiation consumed organic material at the subatomic level, causing instant and complete necrosis in every cell it irradiated. Following exposure, all organic matter degenerated into an ash-like material, completely devoid of life.   Theoretically, this weapon would neutralize the half-organic/half-machine Borg, annihilating their organic component and leaving only their dead ships and technology behind. 

Of course, this also meant death for all those aboard any ship deploying the device, but a death earned while dispatching a deadly foe was a good death indeed. 

Unfortunately, the cost of producing a stable Thalaron Generator was prohibitively high, and thus far, only 3 such devices had been completed.  The Klingon Captain felt privileged to be one of the few warriors entrusted to carry the device.  He had no idea which other two ships were similarly armed, but he felt confident that they were in capable hands.  If all else failed, he would eagerly treat his fellow Captains to a round of bloodwine in StoVoKor.

The brooding Captain placed his palm over a sensor on his armrest, and after a quick scan, an adjacent panel sprung open.  Firmly pressing the button within, the Captain turned towards the communications officer.  "Send to the Admiral," the Klingon said.   "This is Captain Vass, activating the device.  Q'plA!"

As the humming of the engines suddenly changed to a deeper, warbling pitch, the bridge lighting dimmed as though experiencing a power drain.   From the rear of the bridge, a haggard Terran slave furtively glanced towards the command chair.  After making a mental note of the location of the sensor panel, the slave turned back to his task of scrubbing the deck plating.  As his chains gently clinked, the hint of a smile crossed his brown, bearded face. 

Joint Post by Jen & Sheppard

The Emperor glanced to Sevryll as the turbolift assended, "and your mind meld told you that he has done this? Are you certain that Rhys hasn't discovered a way to beat the meld?"

"I would know," replied the woman in a whisper. She saw a flash of stars and stumbled back against the turbolift wall as David struck her with an open hand.

"Don't be so sure..." he grumbled.

As her knees started to buckle, he steadied her, pulling her closer to his side. "...I am sorry," he said trying to make amends for his violent temper. "I'm still wound up about Talbot. He insulted you...you should have let me kill him."

He had never hit her before and she was stunned by the action. Sevryll remained silent as her mind began to question just how much power she held over him and if he had become suspicious of her. The lift doors opened and he helped her into the corridor, "wait for me in our quarters, I will return shortly. I have more business to attend to." He dabbed the blood that tricked from her nose and placed a gentle kiss upon her cheek. lifting her chin with his gloved hand, he studied her face a moment then started down the corridor.

----

The Emperor took a seat in the briefing room where Reese had been patiently awaited his arrival. He knew how the Emperor liked his briefings, quick and to the point. Reese jumped right into the update, and opened a galactic map which filled the room, displaying the positions of planets and ships scattered across the quadrant. Reese moved the focal point to a small region of space, several light years from their position. "Reports have indicated that Vangares is in this region. Considering my previous encounter with him I..."

"Vangares is a thorn," David Locke interrupted, "he's hard to remove, but will eventually fall out." The circumstances had changed since David had given Reese the assignment to capture the defector.

"But Emperor, I thought my job was to punish those who plot against you."

"Reese, Reese, Reese, the snare has been set. The rabbit will spring the trap eventually. Patience... you will have your hunter's stew. For now, we must turn our attention to internal matters. We have a more destructive nuisance to exterminate."

"I don't understand," said Reese as he watched the Emperor rake his fingers through the star map and clinch the star at the heart of the Sol System.

"We are hunting moles now, Reese. There are individuals woven within the fabric of our Empire, who are plotting to rip apart what we have worked so hard to mend." The light from the map caused David's fierce eyes to glint like a dagger's blade, as he narrowed them thoughtfully. "I know I can trust you as long as your pockets are filled, " Locke's menacing grin formed deep lines in his face as he leaned forward, "and there isn't anyone else who can pay as well as I can. Your loyalty in this matter is paramount. "

David Reese bowed slightly and struck his fist against his chest in salute, "Yes, Emperor."

"The success of your new mission will make you a very wealthy man."

If this job was as important as it sounded Reese wasn't going to allow the offer of wealth to slip away. He replied without hesitation, "I am committed to serving you, Emperor. What do you require of me?"


"Security," Locke said, " I need you to watch my back. There are several aboard this ship who would see my death as an opportunity."

"Do you know who these people are?" Inquired the Emperor's henchman.

"I have my suspicions." David produced a PADD from a fold in his tunic and passed it to Reese. "Start with these. They've stepped on my toes too often to dismiss them as suspects. I will pay you a bonus if you can prove that the second individual on that list, is a traitor. I never had much use for him anyway."

"A bonus?" Reese inquired.

"Yes, more pay of course. You'll have enough credits for any luxury you desire... a new ship, your own holodeck fantasy, a real woman, what ever you want. The bonus will pay for it all."

"I'll do the job."

"To be honest, you didn't have much of a choice in the matter," said David with a chuckle. "I trust you'll see to our varmint issue. For now, I want you to observe their movements and report back to me... be desecrate."

The warm humid vanilla scented air of the biomechanical ship clung to Aria as she made her way down one of it's many organically corridors. Natural bioluminescent lit the entire ship with crisp white light and pale blue highlights. Workers and Drones moved with purpose and dedication towards shared objectives. Outside of the seed shaped organic vessel, the bright colors of transwarp danced over the hull. The indigo lights of the advanced drive cast their own light on the flagship of the Cooperative. Thousands of the best and brightest of the Cooperative served as the attendants of their Queen. They were but one of many hubs within the Cooperative that worked in unison to solve the problems that affect her people.

Unlike the Borg that was core in creating her Cooperative, her people were not mindless slaves. She knew the value of independent thought and the difficulties that could come from that thought. The Cooperative succeeded because she knew something that the Borg did not. While the Cooperative were individuals on a conscious level, on a sub conscious level, they were even more tightly bound than their Borg cousins. Technology, biology, and psionic power blended and united the hearts and minds of the Cooperative to their Queen.

In Aria's eyes, the Borg were Locust that moved from world to world, stripping each of anything of value and leaving nothing but dust. She had patterned her Cooperative to behave more like a beehive.  They moved from world to world like the Borg, but they only took a percentage of the population into the Cooperative and the knowledge to recreate the technology that interested them. When they left a world, they left a world that might have small scars, but one that would heal. The worlds they left behind could still thrive and one day they could be harvested once more.

Her children were anomalies. Each member of her synthetic race were given genetic, cybernetic, and nanite enhancements specifically chosen to enhance their ability to contribute to the species. It was through the multi-level unity and her position as the heart of the Cooperative that protected her children from the corrupted nature of their universe. In her attempts to find the cause of the darkness that she saw about her, she found that one act could not unravel and repair her new home.

Centuries of aggression had been grafted to the human genome as a result of augments decisively winning the Eugenics War. The genes of the victors were dispersed by natural selection and new generations throughout humanity. Greater than human abilities might have faded in most, but the heightened aggression of the crude processes managed to thrive with each new generation.

She was but one voice and she could not stop Soong's victory even if she had a stable means to travel to that point. It was far too late. The actions of humanity were a clear reminder of the legacy left behind by Soong. The damage was done and it created a wound that could not simply be treated. For this universe to thrive, she needed to cauterize the infection and start fresh. The Cooperative was that fresh start. They were the scalpel and medicine that would be required to craft a better future.

Now she moved her personal vessel towards a faintly detected signal from her past. It was a signal that could change everything if it held true and brought her to her father. She had long prided herself on granting her children the best. While she had many new genetic enhancements since her arrival, the genes that she inherited from her father still remained. Their unique complexity was the core of her new family. With the El Aurians extinct from Borg attacks, she had to rely on the small portion of those genes that she carried with her instead of what would have a robust gene pool in her original timeline.

If the signal led to her father as she hoped, she would have many questions. She longed to see her father again. She missed her family more than words could convey but she also needed him and select others. The genes he held would create significant advances in Cooperative and strengthen her chosen. It was now only a matter of time until they arrived at the battle, but it was still too slow from her.

Increase speed she ordered her crew. With little hesitation, the ship increased its velocity and rapidly approached the battle. The advanced computers quickly recalculated the travel time of her journey.  She smiled on receiving the new results. It was information that she projected to the entire fleet and her hidden operatives.We will be arriving at the rift shortly and then we shall deal with these questions and threats.

JOINT POST BY HAWKEYEMEDS & TREKKYGEEK

Sevryll and Petersons voice began to drift away as the comforting solace of sleep began to draw over him.
The image in was hazy at first. Then slowly the image became clearer. The lights behind the tall man obscured his features, only the outline could be seen. Peters shook his head, the pain was immense.

"How many lights?"

The tall man stood still, his hair drawn back.

"How many lights do you see?"

The pain in his head started to throb, blood and sweat mixed together and had begun to block his nostrils so breathing was becoming harder.

"How many lights?"

Peters wondered who this man was, this was unreal. The tall figure began to move and the sudden blast of light caused Peters eyes to burn, he closed them immediately but in that instant his head was jerked back and his eyes forced open.

"How many lights do you see now Mr peters?"

A solo spot light came on but he couldn't close his eyes. The strange man had now clamped his eye lids open.

"There are five lights. How many lights do you see?"

Peters tried to turn his head but that too was now clamped down, the tall man walked around Peters chair slowly hi could see his eyes now, they looked like the devils. The man circled and circled and as his eyes began to dry out and hand hovered over and drops were given.

"This is water at the moment but in this little vile here is..... well let me give you some"

The glass vile tipped slightly and he could see the liquid slowly come out, it seemed ages before the water hit his exposed eye ball. the sudden rush of pain jolted his body and the man let two more droplets of salt water do their job.

"You scream Mr Peters but this is just the start. Will you not answere my questions? Lets start again"

Peters felt his head pull forward the clamps were motorized and he could do nothing about it. The man sat in front of the lights again but this time he could see the features, the hooked nose, the pale face and red eyes of the arch interrogator.

"So now we have got to know each other a bit. How many lights do you see behind me? Its a great piece of questioning this, I learnt it from the best."

Peters could only make out a row of lights, he couldn't count them.

"Still no answer. OK lets go back to two days ago. Why are you aboard this ship?

Suddenly the adrenalin kicked in and Peters looked up defiantly at his interrogator and silently cursed the straps which held him to the chair. He wanted to get up and rip this mans limb from his body but his attempts to struggle free were futile. Rhys spat at D'Callan and it hit him squarely in the eye.

"There", Rhys screamed out.... " Take your lights and get away from me". D'Callan wiped the mess from his eye calmly and looked down on the prone figure of Peters, smiling wickedly.

"Nice comeback traitor, but hardly acid. Now, I'll ask you one last time, Why are you here?"


"Your mother invited me. Apparently all the other men on this ship were not enough for her, she wanted a real man". Rhys laughed hysterically at D'Callan.

D'Callans smile disappeared immediately and was replaced with a scowl, and Rhys  giggled as he saw the interrogator begin to tremble with rage. D'Callan drew a deep breath and exhaled, regaining his composure he turned his back on Peters and made his way to a desk at the back of the room. He picked up an object and slowly turned to face Peters once more. The object in his hand sent
fresh waves of terror through Peters mind. D'Callan noticed the fear on his prisoners face.

"Oh" D'Callan said.. "you recognise a laser scalpel then? You think the pain in your eye is bad now? Well Mr. Peters, you are about to experience a pain like you've not felt before. I'm going to slice nice lumps of flesh from you until you give me the answers I require.

D'Callan moved toward Peters and he switched on the scalpel. A high pitched sound came from the lethal tool. Peters started to struggle once again but he knew it was pointless. As D'Callan drew nearer Rhys Peters started to scream.


"Arggghhh, No. Get away from me, leave me alone".........


Peters awoke from the nightmare screaming.

Peterson was concerned about this development, It meant that D'callans torture techniques were beginning to take its toll on Peters.

Peterson knew first hand, that although the physical torture was brutal the emotional scars that would remain would be much more damaging and much harder to treat.

Very few people have withstood D'callans brand of torture for long and Dr. Peterson knew that they would have to either help Peters get off the ship or he would have to take matters into his own hands and move of his plans for revenge against the Master Interrogator in order to protect Sevryll from being discovered and Peters cracked under the relentless strain of torture, which would continue the moment he returned to D'callans chamber of horrors.

Dr. Peterson stuck a hypo in Peters neck to put him in a deep sleep, it wasn't much, but it would at least relieve him of his pain, if only for a short period of time.

They say the eyes show the soul, in the case of Joseph D'Callan the eyes showed nothing but evil. Patience was not one of his strong points and Dunn had been gone for over half an hour. It was not his habit to go running after the staff but in his own mind he knew Dunn was loyal, and his tardiness meant somthing was wrong.

"Computer locate officer Dunn and Doctor Margon"

The harsh voice of the computer replied back

"Sensors are off line"

D'Callan tilted his head to one side.

"Computer we are in the middle of a battle what the hell do you mean sensors are off line"

"Unable to comply, sensors are off line"

Taking a deep breath D'Callan left his chamber and headed for Margons office, walking around the corner he could see a strange gas floating in the air.

"Computer decontaminate corridors 5 and 6"

A sudden woosh of air and dry chemicals filled the corridors and the light on D'callans belt flashed green. He walked towards the white mist and entered it. The doors to Margons medical bay were shattered, standing in front of it D'Callan stood still listening. Suddenly out of the fog came two pairs of burnt hands.

Joint Post By Jen and Rico

The Tiberius had always been too cold for Sevryll's Vulcan blood, yet the vessel's uncomfortable temperature could not be compared to the frigid nature of the Emperor. He had become unstable—something had changed and she had to learn what that something was. The question was "how". The operative could not risk probing David's mind to validate her misgivings. Such a tactic could prove dangerous should the Emperor detect her telepathic venture. She would have to find another means of gathering the information she needed.

The Vulcan slipped a traditional robe over her shoulders and gazed into the mirror hanging within the lavatory.  He had slapped her hard, but not hard enough to cause serious physical trauma. She traced the bridge of her tender nose with the tips of her trembling fingers.  Noticing their tremor, she raised her hands before her to examine them. It wasn't the incident with David in the turbolift, nor the lack of warmth aboard the ship that caused them to shake.  Arching a brow, she moved one hand to her abdomen in response to the flutter of movement she felt within. The presence she sensed in her womb, was the obvious culprit.

She could not fault them for her ill health. Their hybrid genetics were foreign, and her body strove to reject the half-human, fraternal twins. Initially, she determined that she would rather die than carry the progeny of her husband's murderer. Her heart had known only the throb of anguish and her mind grasped only the hope of retribution. These truths remained, but one misery was lifted—her period of solitude had been broken by the rare wonders within her. Swiftly her psychic awareness of the unborn twins, fostered a resilient bond.

Four weeks had passed, and still only one individual knew of Sevryll's pregnancy. Doctor Peterson had worked countless hours to formulate a drug that would enable her to carry the children to term. So far it had been successful, though he warned that  stress could negate the drug's capabilities. Her recent assignment would end soon, and the Cooperative would remove her from her the dreadful life she was forced to endure. Yet, in order to ensure success, she would require more aid.

Sevryll remembered her unspoken exchange with Admiral Talbot. The moment she sensed his mind she felt a comradery, for he too possessed a blazing hatred for the Emperor. Perhaps we should stoke our fires with the machinations of revenge, she thought to herself. The Vulcan closed her eyes and plunged the fingers of her consciousness into a stream of voices. She waded deeper and deeper into the torrent of minds... moving closer to the solitary voice that shouted above all the others. As she drew nearer she recognized it as the Admiral's. Talbot's hoarse mind shouted, a woman's name. 

Only the loss of one's consort could fuel such emotion. I understand your desire for vengeance... She reached out and tethered her mind to Talbot's.  The Vulcan sensed his distrust. She would help him  understand that her intentions toward him, were not malicious. Sevryll hesitated a moment, before unlocking the memory of her husband's assimilation, which she kept buried deep within. She gasped as the pain of that moment washed over her and flowed toward Talbot. It took all her strength to contain the flood of agony, as she gingerly offered Talbot a glance at the terrifying physical experience that she shared with Tevian.

Her body jerked as his abrupt reply boomed in her mind.  I do not welcome attempts to invade my mind, Vulcan! he thought from the command chair, You have my sympathies, but do not presume to understand me.  I have only allowed you a small glimpse of who I am... But, as the Terrans are fond of saying, now that the cards are on the table I can see that you are looking for an ally.  While I've made no move against Locke, I can't deny that I believe him to be reckless...he is a great threat our future. I'm very tired, maybe too tired of this game that the Empire plays with the lives of our loved ones—lives like my wife, Lydia's.  Sevryll perceived a pang of anguish as he thought of his wife. It was a deep wound, but something else made the lesion untreatable. She pulled at a single thread of information and unraveled the detail—he and Lydia had no children...he had nothing left of her. Sirach Talbot put his hand up to his head and rested his eyes.  The grief began to overtake him; he was in command of the Emperor's fleet and in control of everything but his own emotions. Slowly, a blanket of comfort covered his mind and the pain receded.  Talbot felt Sevryll pushing her mental discipline through the link, lending him the strength to suppress his overwhelming emotions.

I sensed your anger and pain, and believed we could assist one another. I ask pardon for the intrusion, she thought.

His mind was cleared of the anguish long enough to follow the link back to the Vulcan. She sensed the movement and dropped her guard—allowing him access to certain knowledge.  As he listened to her thoughts, he detected two rapid heartbeats within her... I sense the new lives you carry, Sevryll. You risk much by sharing this information with me. His slight smile shrank as he learned more of her relationship with David and his treatment of her. I think the only thing this Terran truly loves is power.  You have my support in whatever you may be planning...I thank you for the help and comfort you have given me,.... and so began their coup d'état.

Pleased by the result of their communication, Sevryll severed the link with Talbot and cast her probe in a new direction.  As she waded through the sea of undulating thoughts, in search of Doctor Peterson, she grazed a compelling mind... a telepath's mind. She tried to flee detection, but he secured his consciousness to hers...holding her in place. She lashed out, in an attempt to break the connection, but to no avail. Pleading for help, the telepath pushed the image of a star ship into her mind. He felt her confusion and presented her with another image. Sevryll stopped struggling when she saw herself speaking to the man she had inadvertently discovered, Help me Sevryll...

Two bodies lay at the feet of the large Borg standing in front of them. "I have no need for failure." Locutus said as he grabbed Borg Took by the neck and lifted him into the air. Nic did not struggle and just hung there limply. "You three failed me and let Captain Quinn escape after all that work of bringing him to us. These two were not so lucky, but I may be able to use you, I do not know why but Captain Quinn has a fondness for you and I may be able to use that to my advantage." He dropped Borg Took who fell to the hard metal surface with a clang. Borg Took stood and continued with his duties not aware that he was seconds from death.

The battle was not going well for the Borg, the Empire was putting a good fight and the Alliance had just joined in and now the Borg were out numbered and needed reinforcement. Locutus ordered two more vessels to join in the battle and moments later a transwarp conduit opened and two large Borg sphere emerged and joined in the fight.  Locutus had his mind set on one thing.. They must retrieve Captain Quinn at any cost... The Borg collective's survival depended on it.

Quinn took deep slow breaths as the toxic gas that was filling his lungs was now no longer effecting him.  He could feel the acid burning his face and hands. As he raised his hand to touch his face he noticed that one of his restraints was no longer holding him down. He looked around and focus his attention on Margon who was crawling on the floor gasping for air looking for his respirator, while another man was laying on the floor face down but Nathan could not tell who it was. Quinn knew this was his only chance to escape. He unlatched the strap that was holding his other arm down and reached behind his head to pull out the device that Margon had shoved into the back of his skull. Nathan pulled hard and let out a cry of pain as the device separated itself from Nathan's skull. He looked around for some bandages to plug the hole, but couldn't find anything. Quinn tore a piece of his uniform and painfully shoved it into the back of his head. Quinn let out another scream of agony. He felt queasy and forced himself not to pass out. He continued to take deep breaths and slowly slide himself off the table. The air was filled with the toxic green gas, which made it difficult to see. He stepped over the unconscious mans body and stumbled his way to the destroyed doors. Suddenly he felt someone grab his pant leg. Quinn looked down in shock to see Margon's mutilated face gasping for air looking back up at him. Margon held onto Quinn's leg so tightly that Nathan couldn't shake him off. Finally Quinn turned and took his other leg and kicked Margon in the face breaking his nose. "Sorry my friend" Quinn said as Margon screamed in pain and released Quinn's leg. Nathan hobbled out of Margon's lab.

The hall was filled with the green gas bellowing from Margon's office.  Nathan fell to his knees and grabbed his face as pain coursed through his body. He felt a metal circular disc protruding from his left cheek and another one just above his right eye. The Borg nano probes were doing their job. Nathan slowly picked himself up and held onto the side of the corridor until he found a jefferies tube access panel. He opened the hatch and crawled inside. As he was pulling the door shut he heard a man's voice. "Computer decontaminate corridors 5 and 6" Quinn quickly shut the door as the man walked by.  He slowly crawled down the jefferies tubes until he couldn't go any further. He sat up and rested his head on the bulkhead. He looked down at the place where the acid had burned his hand and noticed that it was no longer blacken skin, there was now fresh pink skin, the wounds were healing themselves. Borg nano probes must be repairing the burns, Quinn thought to himself as he pulled out the piece of cloth he had shoved into the back of his head to prevent any brain fluid from escaping and sure enough the hole was mending. Nathan knew he couldn't stay here for long. Someone would find out he had escaped and would be looking for him. His best bet was to make his way to a shuttle bay and steal a shuttlecraft. Quinn looked around and noticed some markings on of the jefferies tube that identified that he was in section 7 junction 65 and below that was the ships' name. 'USS Tiberius' Quinn smiled from ear to ear, he knew this ship like the back of his hand.  Nathan sat there and stretched out his mind probing the thoughts of the crew, he needed to gather as much information as he could. Suddenly he came across a mind he knew very well... Sevryll???

D'Callan shot back in defence as the mutilated face of Margon came out of the darkness.

"Strewth. Your cosmetic surgery gone down the dunny Margon."

Margons outstretched hands grappled wildly as he continued to stagger forward, D'Callan dodged to the left and punched him in his wounds. Margon screamed in pain and fell to his knees, blood gushed from his broken nose and skin flapped from the burns.

"What have you done with our guest Margon?"

D'Callan quickly looked up to see the debris and then the shaking body of Dunn on the floor. To the right he could see the torn straps from where the prisoner had been tied.

"I'm guessing and this is only a guess that you have let our guest go for a walk. The Emperor will not be too happy with you. And I look forward to telling him"

D'Callan stood and kicked Margin in the ribs.

"If you can walk then get up Dunn"

Turning D'Callan walked out into the corridor and scanned the area. In his mind he calculated where the prisoner would go. Seeing some Jeffrie tube hatches he went to walk over to it but then stopped, he turned slowly and looked at a staggering Dunn who was helping Margon up. He flicked his eyes up in disbelief.

"D'Callan to the Emperor. Doctor Margon has let the prisoner escape. I suggest a full security sweep of the ship. Sensors are off line so it will have to be manual"

D'Callan knew the Emperor would not reply but would still be seething that Margon had let the prisoner go. This made him smile, but in the back of his head something bothered him. Why were the ships sensors off line. He didn't have time to go and interrogate everyone who had access to the ships security sensors. His gut instinct kicked in, he knew that the Vulcan scourge could be to blame. And with that he opted to find her.

Joint post by Jen and  Kenny

Even in his weakened state, the superior power of Nathan's telepathy easily restrained Sevryll. Through the link, he pushed memories of his Sevryll, and their experiences aboard his Tiberius, into her mind.

With a great effort, she managed to force a single thought back at Nathan, I...DON'T...KNOW YOU.

I am Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, and I am not from this universe, he cried out through the link.

Quinn continued to flood her with visions.  He had to make her understand, for she was his only hope of getting home.  Her eyes darted about as she surveyed the scenes that only existed within the boundaries of her mind. The freshest images were of Quinn's experience on the Cube, his discussion with the Borg King and his experience in Margon's dark lab.

Her eyes widened as she realized that she and Rhys would no longer be able to access the shield modulation codes from that location—not after the bloody battle that took place there. It was no longer a quiet, secluded area and they couldn't simply walk onto the bridge and take them... or could they?  She thought of Admiral Talbot's promise to aid her cause. He had already disabled the ship's internal sensors, perhaps he would also provide her with the proper codes.

With his last ounce of energy, Quinn conveyed his location to the familiar Vulcan, before passing out...and with that, the connection was severed. Exhausted, Sevryll dropped to her knees then fell in a heap on the floor.

"Wake up mommy," echoed two distant voices. Her eyes struggled to focus on the individuals standing over her. "Wake up mommy...." the voices said in unison once more.

A hypo hiss brought the focus that her vision lacked and she saw David and Casey Peterson kneeling beside her. "Wake up Sevryll," said David tenderly. The melodious hum of a tricorder rang within the Emperor's quarters, "welcome back, k'diwa", said the Emperor as he kissed her forehead. She wanted to laugh at the term of endearment—it was a rather poor attempt at the Vulcan word for 'beloved'...that, and  he didn't actually love her. She started to sit up, but David stopped her, "the doctor says you need to lay still." Was that concern she heard in his voice? She was too weary to attempt to validate it with a telepathic inspection.  Instead, she stared intensely at the man who had struck her, as he placed a pillow under her head. The logic she willingly rejected, whispered to her that the emotion she read on David's face, was in fact a profound guilt. He assumed that he had caused her 'episode'... Let him believe it, she thought.

Without uttering a word the Betazoid-Terran Doctor spoke to her, Perhaps you should tell him now.

Her eyes moved to see Casey; the doctor was busing himself with tricorder readings.

Why!? came her strained reply.

So that he won't strike you again.

Nothing will guarantee that.

Tell him... If you don't, I will. He still deserves to know.

Her eyes flashed, but Casey did not turn his head to see the anger directed at him. David noted the look. He glanced to the doctor and back to Sevryll, "Don't worry k'diwa. The doctor said you'll be fine."  There's that word again... she thought with disgust.

He helped the mistress lay back against the pillow.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on locating Rhys Peters, in order to relay the information regarding Margon's lab, to him.  We must find an alternative means of obtaining the shield modulation codes.

Why? What happened? replied Rhys with a frustrated thought.

A captive named Quinn is the root cause.... D'Callan and Margon are fighting over him. He escaped...we can not allow them to locate him... The Empire stands to gain too much from his abilities.

David's shout of joy abruptly severed Sevryll's link with Rhys. The Emperor had scooped her up into his arms in a light embrace. She was bewildered a moment, before a sudden realization dawned on her. Over his shoulder, she leveled an angry scowl at the doctor who shrugged a half-hearted apology.

A captive named Quinn is the root cause.... D'Callan and Margon are fighting over him. He escaped...we can not allow them to locate him... The Empire stands to gain too much from his abilities.


Suddenly Sevrylls voice was cut off and Rhys wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. She had mentioned someone called Quinn. She must be mistaken or he had misheard, Quinn had died months ago and Peters had been struggling to cope since. He and Quinn had spent much time in each others company and they had grown very close. Peters did not have many friends and he counted Quinn as his closest. In fact, If it hadn't been for Nathan, Rhys would probably have ended up in a gutter somewhere with his throat cut. Quinn had always had a calming effect on the highly strung Peters and he missed him terribly.

A thought entered his mind. He owed so much to Nathan Quinn. If there was a chance that he was alive, then he, Peters, must do all he could to help him escape. All thoughts of latinum and codes left his mind, he had one priority only. He would insist to Sevryll that the only way he would help her would be if he could rescue Nathan Quinn, even if it put his life in danger.

His fingers raced over the panel on the wall.

"Sensors are off line"

D'Callan looked at the blank monitor, his reflection gazed back at him, slowly his eyebrows arched and he glared at himself, it was almost as if the reflection was laughing at him. He turned and headed towards the turbo lift.

"Dunn. When you have finished playing with the good Doctor would you do me a favor and put Mr Worf in the gravity chamber."

D'Callan walked to the turbo lift and Dunns shaken voice chirped through.

"Sir, Doc,.....Doctor Margon has left the area, I......I...can't see very well"

D'callan stopped and bowed his head.

"Here's looking at you Dunn... Just find him"

Mirror Universe-


From his quarters deep within the belly of the cloaked NegVar, KoraQ silently watched the ongoing battle between the Tera'ngans and the Borg.  His viewscreen flickered briefly, no doubt a result of his flagship's cloak interfering with the ship's sensors. 

The Klingon Admiral felt torn- he had no love for the pitiful terrans and their even weaker subjects, but the warrior within him raged to be set free to engage the Borg. 

Even if it meant assisting the Terrans. 

As weak and sneaky as they were, at least they tried to follow the example set by the Klingon/Cardassian alliance.  At least they understand that in the galaxy there were only two types of people--  the Conquerors, and the Conquered. 

The Borg, on the other hand, had no concept of what it meant to live.  They were not driven by a desire for glory and conquest, and they had no thirst for power.  They were cold, soulless machines, driven only by their programming to remake the universe in their image. 

KoraQ's lip curled in a sneer of disgust as he imagined a galaxy populated by bland, mindless drones... a universe with no soul, no honor, and untouched by the warming fires of either passion or righteous hate.

His hardened fist smashed into the viewscreen, sending glossy black shards flying across his desk.

I'll be damned if I let that come to pass!

The Klingon swept the glass-like shards off of his desk, leaving a bloody smear, then violently punched the comm panel.  "This is KoraQ; give me Captian K'Lara!" 

The captain's response issued immediately from the speaker.  "This is K'Lara, Admiral.  What do you want?"

KoraQ smiled in anticipation of the coming fight.  "Raise shields, drop our cloak, and arm all weapons.  Then put me in contact with the human PetaQ in command out there.  I intend to show those soft worms how true warriors deal with the Borg!"

JOINT POST BY JEN, ICEMAN & HAWKEYEMEDS


"Be careful, Emperor... her condition is very fragile," warned the doctor.

David spun her once before he lowered her onto the bed. Then suddenly, his ecstatic expression was replaced by a severe glare, "why have you kept this from me?"

Casey interrupted, "they are hybrid children, Emperor."

David glanced over his shoulder at the Terran/Betazoid. Within the Empire, mixed species were the lowest of the low. The doctor nodded respectfully as David turned back to Sevryll. The Emperor's expression softened, "You thought I would reject them because they are half-Vulcan?"

No, I just didn't want you to be happy, you RAVOT!  She thought to herself. "Yes," she said aloud.

"They will be my heirs... I could never discard them. Besides, there is a chance they could luck out, and appear human... If not... I could have them surgically altered."

Sevryll flicked her cool gaze to Casey—the doctor looked away. She rolled her eyes slowly back to David who had a smile ready for her. He waved the doctor out of the room without bothering to thank him for his help.

Peterson gathered his medical kit and bowed to the Emperor who never acknowledged the gesture. He left their quarters with a dark cloud looming over him.  Casey didn't like defying his friend, but he saw the tricorder readouts and knew that the Emperor had abused Sevryll.  Though the blow hadn't been the root caused of her episode, the doctor believed David's knowledge of the pregnancy would protect her from future outbursts.

He headed quickly down the corridor and entered his quarters to find Rhys gone. The doctor began putting away the items in his med kit, but set aside the hypo. One could never be too cautious in the Empire, and so Casey carried a sedative on him at all times, just in case of trouble. Little did he know that he would need it that evening....

The turbo lift door opened and Joseph D'Callan slithered out.  The altercation in Margon's Lab had left him blind in one eye and he held his head at an odd angle, as he strained to see.  The odd posture heightened the interrogator's predatory appearance, as he prowled the corridor in search of his next victim—the individual he blamed, for every issue that arose aboard Tiberius.

He skulked to a control panel in order to access the internal sensors, but stopped when he noticed Doctor Peterson entering his quarters nearby.  Ah yes, the 'personal physician'.... her minion. A feral smile spread across D'Callan's face. The Interrogator crept to Casey's door and flattened his ear against its surface. When he was sure that Peterson was alone, the snake overrode the security lock, and entered the good doctor's quarters.

He waited in the open doorway as his eye adjusted to the darkened room—it appeared empty. Joseph cocked his head to one side then another as his ears strained to rip through the silence in search of Peterson. The hunt was invigorating and D'Callan felt a rush of exhilaration as he took three cautious steps into the room,  "Is there a doctor in the house? " he hissed.

From his hiding place, Casey readied his hypo and slowly rose to confront the intruder. "What do you want D'Callan?" Called the doctor from the shadows.

The interrogator smiled. "I'm looking for a cure..." He whispered as he stepped further into Casey's quarters. The doctor remained hidden within his curtain of shadows, watching Joseph intensely.

"A cure for what? Insanity? I'm not a psychiatrist, D'Callan." Said Doctor Peterson as he silently stepped to a new location.

"It warms the cockles of my heart to know that you have managed to retain your excellent sense of humor, in spite of all the trauma I put you through," chuckled D'Callan. " Speaking of "cockles"....Did you know that the phrase "cockles of your heart" is derived from the Latin description for the heart's chambers, cochleae cordis? It's true...it's widely believed that the word 'cockles' is a corrupted version of 'cochleae', most likely entering the popular vernacular as a form of slang. The prevailing medical opinion of that day and time was that the ventricles of the human heart resembled the concentric shells of small mollusks or snails, also known as 'cochleae' or 'cockles'. The heart is a funny thing isn't it? Mummmmm..." he mused.  "Actually....I'm not looking for a shrink. I need an assisting physician. I'm going to cure an illness, and you're going to help me." D'Callan listened for movement, and heard a footstep to his left. He turned his head in that direction—seeing nothing, he continued. "You see, the Emperor has managed to contract a cancer of the Vulcan variety. I know you've had dealings with this particular disease.  "You have the knowledge I need to stop the spread... With what I glean from you, I will be able to cut this cancer from the Empire. "

D'Callan waited for Casey's reply, in order to pinpoint his position. It was a long wait, but it finally came. He smiled as the doctor answered sharply, "She is with the Emperor, and you would be wise to stay away from her."

D'Callans smile grew larger—his menace equally so. "Why is that Doctor? Is she playing 'house' again?"

Doctor Peterson stepped out of the shadows, dropped the hypo from his sleeve and lifted it up to stab D'Callan in the neck. Luckily for Joseph, Casey stepped within his  peripheral view point. He spun on his heel and parried the doctor's downward blow with a raised forearm then countered with a quick strike to Casey's throat with his right hand.

Peterson fell to one knee gasping for air, and fumbling for the dropped Hypo. D'Callan's laugh reverberated within the cabin. "Its like finding a...needle in a haystack isn't it Doctor?"

At that moment, Casey Peterson looked up to see D'callan's hand glide down and puncture his shoulder with the missing hypo. The sedative worked quickly, and Peterson lost consciousness. "Damn...now I have to carry him," thought Joseph. "Oh well, no rest for the weary" he said as he threw the doctor over his shoulder and  headed for the turbolift.

With Talbot back in command on the bridge Zremm was out of the center seat again - a position where he felt weaker and more vulnerable.  Talbot may be a tactical genius but Zremm had watched the half-breed lose his edge over the years.  Oh, he still easily won battles but the killer instinct seemed to be gone.  But there was something Zremm noticed just before he left the bridge that made him uneasy.  Something new in Talbot's eyes he saw when he asked for permission to head to engineering to investigate the sensor troubles that made him very uncomfortable.  It was as if Talbot knew something he didn't and that made the Andorian very suspicious.

As Zremm made his way down the corridor towards the main sensor control room near engineering he heard footsteps coming towards him from an adjacent corridor.  His antennae perked up as he noticed a young human engineer approach him.  Zremm motioned for his personal guard to stand ready with a hand sign they each knew very well.

"Commander Zremm, good to see you sir."  The young ensign said giving the traditional salute.

"Is there something you wanted, Ensign,....?"  Zremm said casually.

"Ensign Berman sir, communications technician.  It's interesting what one can hear at my station with just a few modifications."  Berman said with a grin.

"Your point Ensign, I'm very busy at the moment."  Zremm said as he felt his pulse increase.

"Well, let's just say 'blue-boy' that the Admiral might be very interested in certain conversations that I,..."  Berman was cut off in mid sentence as Zremm crashed into his chest and pressed him up against the bulkhead wall.  In a flash his knife was out and on Berman's neck.  Zremm's guard moved in as well and quickly grabbed the unguarded crewman, pinning his arms against his back.

"You are a fool, Berman.  No one threatens me on my ship.  What did you hear?!"  Zremm said, as he moved in close and breathed down on the Terran.

"I heard enough.  If you kill me Zremm, a coded message will be automatically sent to the Admiral.  That is, unless I enter my personal code every four hours.  Now release me and we can talk about my promotion.  You know, that Barton sounds like a..." Berman didn't finish as Zremm twisted his wrist over and quickly slit the ensign's throat, sliding his sharp blade deep across his neck.  He nodded to his guard to let go as Berman uselessly reached up and pressed his hands against the gushing blood streaming from his neck.

"Stupid.  Pathetic human.  Talbot doesn't frighten me."  Zremm said as he watched  the technician slide to the floor and gurgling in pain and shock.

"No,...help,...please,...."  Berman said softly as his eyes fluttered and became lifeless.

"Clean up this mess and then join me in the sensor room."  Zremm said to his personal guard as he wiped his blade off on Berman's uniform and walked on as if he had simply stepped on a small insect.  For some reason he found himself grinning slightly.  Perhaps my timetable will have to be moved up, he thought to himself as he reached the control room.

JOINT POST BY JEN AND HAWKEYEMEDS

Casey Peterson was surprisingly heavy for a man of his size. "Too many replicated pies Doctor? " Grumbled D'Callan, as he lugged his newest victim down the corridor. The Brig's glass door rolled open and Joseph stepped inside, dropped the doctor to the floor and dragged him to the center of the main room.

A tall, thin guard moved from his post to meet the Interrogator, "Doctor Peterson has come back to see us.  I look forward to settling the score—he managed to knock out two of my teeth during his stay with us. I will get my chance to repay him...won't I?"

D'Callan let go of Casey's arm, creating a hollow thud that reverberated within the room. He turned a fierce gaze toward the guard. "Mine..." he growled under his breath.

The guard held his hands up and stepped back a few paces in submission, "Aye, Sir."

D'Callan dragged the doctor to the far wall and glanced back over his shoulder at the guard, "Get over here and help me." The confused man rushed to the Interrogator, who had lifted one of Casey's legs. The guard took the other leg and attached a pair of cuffs to the doctor's ankles. Joseph snatched a control device from the guard's belt, and keyed a lift command. The unconscious doctor was quickly hoisted off the floor by an unseen force—his arms swayed slightly as his body ascended upside down. Another sequence was keyed, and the doctor's upward progression was stopped. D'Callan took a few steps forward and grabbed a fist full of hair with his left hand and turned the doctor's face to study it. With his right hand, the Interrogator pried opened Casey's closed eyelids and inspected his dilated pupils. He let go of the unconscious man and gestured to the guard. The man scrambled to pass D'Callan a cylindrical device. Joseph pushed long, sweaty black strands from his eyes and activated the mechanism on the side of the implement. Green vapor escaped from the apparatus that D'Callan waved in the doctor's purple face.  Casey coughed and moaned. "Rise and shine..." whispered D"Callan as he pulled weighted gloves over his fists. The Interrogator drew back and punched the doctor in the kidneys. Casey swung back and forth, in midair as he cried out in pain.

"Ah, you're awake... good."

Peterson, still groggy from the hypo, slurred a string of defiant curses. His threats soon merged with the growing sound of banging. Bare feet pounded the floor and bruised hands hammered cell walls in unison, as the prisoners joined Peterson in protest...their collective declaration echoed like thunder throughout the Brigg.  "Wait your turn! I can easily make time for you all!" Shouted D'Callan.

The blow of an iron fist soon stopped Doctor Peterson's swearing. The prisoners' protests ceased as Casey swung silently before the Interrogator. D'Callan caught the doctor's jacket and stopped his sway, gently he held it and with his other hand  glided his fist straight into the Doctors nose, causing the septum to shatter.  He then lowered his blood soaked hand into his pocket, and pulled a dirty rag from it. The Interrogator popped the cloth to remove anything foreign from its surface, before gathering it in his hand and mopping the blood from the doctor's open wound.

"t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. My, that does look nasty doesn't it? Well, it could be much worse."

Dazed, but still coherent, Casey managed to spit a tooth at the Interrogator.
D'Callan picked up the bloody molar and tossed it to the guard. "Here! A replacement tooth for the one you lost!" he laughed then turned back to Casey.

"Let's have a chat...Shall we?  What is your Vulcan harlot up to? I know when people are hiding things from me...and she's up to something. Come on... tell... me... all... you ... know." He said as he playfully tapped the doctor's broken nose with his index finger.

Doctor Peterson stared back at the Interrogator in silent defiance.

"No? Fair enough Doctor."

He waved the guard over. The man grabbed Casey's head and fitted him with a halter. He fixed the bridle to the doctor's head and slipped metal apparatus into his mouth. "Nothing personal, doctor... I just need to pin you down on a few things," said D'Callan. With another command from the control device, the metal apparatus pried open Casey's mouth.  Doctor Peterson struggled against it, while D'Callan waved a long, slender, needle like instrument before his eyes. Knowing what would happen next, the guard looked away.  "You might feel a slight prick..."  said D'Callan with a mocking tone. Casey felt an agonizing shock of pain, as the needle pierced his tongue.

He awoke some time later to see a pile of his own hair on the floor beneath him. He was still hanging by his ankles and his head pounded...but not from the rush of blood to his head. Though they felt as though they weighed more than his entire body, Casey moved one hand to head and felt something protruding from his scull....an implant of some type.

"You were very chatty," said D'Callan as he approached the doctor. "...Very, casual. In fact, I actually think we may have actually bonded during our discussion. I was just headed out the door to see the Emperor, I'll be sure to tell him how cooperative you've been."

Hunting moles was apparently easier than hunting rabbits.  David Reese had been watching D'Callan for only an hour when he observed the man carrying Doctor Peterson out of his quarters. Determined to earn the wealth that Locke had offered, the Emperor's henchman eagerly followed the second individual listed on David Locke's list of possible conspirators. 

He trailed the Interrogator all the way to the Brigg, and could go no further. Reese waited for the door to close before activating the listening devices hidden inside, and moved to eavesdrop from a nearby cabin. Hours of punishment and questioning were recorded before D'Callan...and Reese... finally obtained the information they needed.  The henchman would cross three names off the list and retire as a man of great affluence—a man of great power. He gathered his evidence and quickly left to inform the Emperor.

The door chime sounded from the next room. He tried to ignored it, but it continued to repeat its annoying bray until he could no longer focus. In a huff he threw back the blankets and left the bedroom, "WHAT!"

As he tied his robe, his guards entered with David Reese.  "I'm sorry, Emperor... I have information of vital importance..."

Sevryll sat up as the door closed behind David. She could sense the Emperor's annoyance as distinctly as she could hear it in his angry voice. His deep bass rose to question the intruder in the next room then quieted as he received his answer. David's agitation quickly transitioned to virulence, and he shouted a vile cursed to no one in particular. The Vulcan woman moved her feet to the floor, and inched cautiously to the door in an attempt to hear the now lowered voices. Her teeth chattered as the cold air chilled her bare skin. She reached for a nearby robe and wrapped it about her, as her ears strained to detect the muffled conversation.

"I asked for a mole, Reese...and you've brought me a RAT," muttered David. She jumped back as something crashed hard against the door. A heartbeat later it slid open to reveal the hulking Emperor. She stepped backward as he pressed toward her, "Come...HERE...."

She had been compromised. Sevryll glanced about the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Finding nothing, the Vulcan settled into a defensive stance as the Emperor continued to creep slowly toward her. "LEAVE US!" he shouted to the men in the next room.

"D'Callan is coming... He's coming to tell me that you are a traitor..." He inched around the bed as she shifted her weight and set her jaw in anticipation.

"Do you now how he came by this information?" he asked with manufactured composure. "DOCTOR PETERSON VOLUNTEERED IT!" His shout rattled within the room. The veins in his neck and forehead rose above the surface of his skin and his face turned a bright red; Sevryll was cornered and he was enraged. With a blinding speed he grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her toward him. She threw a hammer fist in defense but he blocked her powerful blow, twisted her wrist and pinned behind her back. "Of course...he was being tortured at the time. People will say just about anything under duress," he calmly continued. "...I wonder what you would say?" He pulled her close and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Staring into her wide eyes he whispered, "Would you claim to love me?" He studied her shadowed face for a moment longer before pressing a kiss on her lips that she refused to return.

After a long moment, he slowly released his grip, "you seek vengeance—I admire that. Your passion will be passed on to our children—making them all the more worthy of ruling my Empire.... I will spare your life." She narrowed her eyes at the thought of his mercy, for it always came with a price.

"The interrogator seeks my throne, but he lacks the ability to physically take it. To do so, he must prove me weak. D'Callan will come for you, and he expects me to resist... I will not." He turned back to the door, "I know you have certain...abilities that will ensure the safety of our children... See that you use them."
 

JOINT POST BY JEN & HAWKEYEMEDS

David Locke turned to the view port and pressed his hands against its cold surface. Beyond the porthole, silent explosions flashed—echoing the muted rage that he concealed at the pit of his core. His angry breath fogged the transparent pane as he measured the veracity of their individual testimonies. "He's lying, David." Whispered the Vulcan as she stepped closer to the brooding man.

"You know I am right, Emperor. She kept this secret from you far too long. Why? Because she too was busy making plans for a new life with Casey Peterson. When they weren't "planning their family", they spent their time plotting to steal the throne. " Replied the Interrogator with an eerie calm.

David bristled at the lie, but let it wash over him.

The danger of her situation doubled with Joseph D'Callan's half-truth. If she failed to inform her co-conspirators now, they would fall victim to the Interrogator just as quickly as she and Casey had. With a thought, the telepath warned Talbot and Peters before sending a distress message to the Cooperative Queen.

The room echoed with a solid bang as David punched the glass—the Emperor had made his "decision". His forehead rolled against the view port as he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder at Sevryll.  From the corner of his eye, he could see her lips move as she started to petition to him once more.

Cutting her off, he uttered quietly, "Take her to the brig... Do what you must. D'Callan produced a phaser and shot Sevryll in the back. She fell hard upon the cold metal floor—her dark hair spilling over David's feet.

The Emperor turned back to the view port...he wanted to rip D'Callan's eyes out of his head with his bare hands, but he would have to wait for that...he would have to wait until the moment was right. Though he couldn't wait too long, or Sevryll and their children would be dead. In an effort to be believable, David lifted one foot and shook her raven locks from his boot. The Interrogator stepped forward and slowly knelt beside the unconscious woman. Tenderly, he turned her over and lifted her off the floor. D'Callan glanced at her placid face, pushed the hair out of her eyes and leered. The evil expression contrasted starkly with the gentle way he cradled her in his arms. He nodded to the Emperor who continued to stare into the distance in ominous silence.







Sevryll awoke, suspended in an anti-grav beam. Her eyes darted about. Though she could not see him, she could feel D'Callan's presence." Do you know what a cortical implant is?" came a harsh voice from the shadows.

Sevryll focused on an area of the room, where she had perceived D'Callan's giddy expectation "...I'm sure you intend to demonstrate."

Footsteps scraped the deck as he moved within the blanket of darkness. She flinched as Doctor Peterson appeared from the shadows, and crashed on the floor before her. "Oh, don't worry. Your minion isn't dead.....yet," said D'Callan. The plink of metal on metal sounded as a cortical implant was tossed onto Peterson and bounced onto the floor. "He wouldn't talk. It took me two hours to even make him cry. In the end I had to result to this crude technology to glean information from him. Do you know what he told me..DO YOU!?"

D'callan stepped into the light, just below her and slapped her foot, causing her to spin within the anti-grav beam. The queasiness returned and she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to still the dizziness. He laughed as he caught her foot—abruptly halting her rotation within the beam.

"You didn't think that the Emperor would buy the lie I peddled, did you? Well, it's not really a lie is it? It's more like a half-truth, really." He circled her, like a spider approaching his captured prey.  D'Callan sneered as he reached into the field and placed his knobby hand on her stomach. Sevryll could do nothing to repel him, so she resigned herself to keeping her eyes shut tight.

"The......Emperor's........Child..." he hissed. "Not Casey Peterson's.  I suppose David is too blinded with jealousy to consider a simple DNA test....mmmhmmm....yes....I knew he would be. Obsession makes people like him, stupid." He laughed as he spun her again and then stopped her with a jolt.  "Samson and Delilah... King David and Bathsheba—the wife of Uriah.  Yes, you are his fatal flaw—his Achilles heel. But you knew that didn't you?" He spun her counter clock-wise, "I did too....I realized your power over him years ago. He had a wandering eye then...but it came to rest on you too often."

He stopped the spin and lowered her within the field so that he could whisper in her ear.  "Want to know a secret? Shhhhhhh, it's justbetween you and me.... promise not to tell? I suggested that he send your husband after the Borg to be rid of him. Oh...he didn't like the idea at first, but then again he was very smitten with you and decided that having a harlot was more important than the General's friendship.... " He leaned closer to her ear and bellow,"Green-blooded TROLLOP!"

He caught her foot and pushed her clock-wise in the field. "Oh...oh...feeling sick are we? Do you need to see a doctor? I'm sorry, he seems to be out to LUNCH!" He laughed as he abruptly stopped her revolution. Sevryll attempted to focus her mind on reaching D'Callan's thoughts, but the spinning kept her disoriented.

"At first, I thought you were nothing more than a prostitute, but then I had no idea of your conspiracy until the good Doctor broke his silence. It looks like my plans were very well timed!" He spun on his heal and addressed he prisoners, "There are many within the Emperor's military who believe him to be weakened by this woman...I thought it was enough that she was Vulcan...but it was a nice bonus to learn that you're a spy too!"

He quickly pivoted back to Sevryll, "Those people no longer support him... and all I had to do was set David up to fail.  Did I mention that this obsession has made him stupid? It will be his undoing....but that was your plan all along wasn't it?"

He skipped over the shadows on the floor as he circled Sevryll, "I couldn't kill him, he still has too many supporters and henchmen lurking about. I had to build doubt amongst his leaders, and for years you have unwittingly aided me. The Empire knows that you have plotted against him—I wasted no time in sending that verification to the fleet once I learned of your little scheme. The Emperor was duped by you... a non-Terran... and his supporters will espouse the actions I take to punish him, and claim the throne."

While D'Callan blathered on, Sevryll took the opportunity to penetrating his thoughts. She began flipping through D'Callan's memories, searching for the most painful and traumatic experiences. She drew them forth, activated memories of his mother along with images of his first wife on their wedding day. She then merged them with the images of screaming torture victims and blood...so much blood. In less than five seconds, Sevryll managed to simultaneously trigger every hideous memory within D'callans mind. He threw his head back as he held it in agony, "Arggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!"

As he fell to the deck, his control device slipped from his belt and smashed onto the floor—releasing Sevryll from the anti-grav beam. She landed on her feet and approached the man thrashing on the floor before her. With her bare foot she delivered a spin-back kick to the side of his head, causing his bio eye to pop from its socket. It rolled across the cold metal floor and stopped at Doctor Peterson's side. The doctor raised his fist and smashed the little round ball.  Sevryll offered a slight smile to her friend, then bent down and grabbed D'Callan by the collar and raised him to eye level. She held him there a moment, considering her next action then carried him with one hand to the control panel and opened all the cell doors.  "Bring them on trollop!" coughed the Interrogator. His face twisted into a bloody grin.

Peterson stepped to her side with a chair in his hands. Sevryll glanced to him, then to prisoners who had begun to surround them. She dropped the evil man amongst the gathering mob, and slowly backed away...she had work to do.

Mirror Universe-


Lightyears away from the drama unfolding aboard the Tiberius, and from the cloaked Flagship spying on her, the Klingon/Cardassian Alliance's 6th fleet dropped out of warp.  One by one, the motley collection of warships zipped into a sparsely populated area of space, rapidly decelerating to a relative standstill.  At the head of the fleet, a smallish, oddly shaped craft crept steadily forward.

Seated at the center of the odd ship's bridge, its lanky Klingon Captain slowly scanned a handheld data terminal. The Thalaron Device is armed and charging steadily, he thought.  Woe to any Borg we may encounter!

The Klingon was so engrossed in his data readout, he failed to notice the catlike approach of his Cardassian Communications officer.  He looked up with a jolt, hastily hiding his data pad as she laid a long-nailed hand on his shoulder. 

"What are you reading, Captian?" she breathed into his ear. 

"Just checking the fleet's status," he replied.

The Cardassian woman's hand curled and moved to the Captian's cheek, suggestively caressing one of the many scars marring his face.  As the Klingon's shoulders stiffened, the woman twirled his seat to face her.  Before he could react, she hopped into his lap, straddling him and staring into his eyes.  A smile spread across her gray, lightly scaled face as she leaned into him.  "You can't lie to me, Vass," she whispered.  "I know you far too well," she added with a wink.

The Klingon Captain glanced nervously around the bridge, catching a few of his crew as they quickly returned their attention to their workstations. 

"You forget your place, ensign Seska!" he growled.  Standing abruptly, he tossed her unceremoniously to the deck.  "We may be allies," he snarled, "But you know how the Admiral feels about interracial... relations.  Your behaviour is both dishonorable and innappropriate!"

The Cardassian woman stood gracefully from the deck, dusting off her uniform as she stepped towards the Captain.  "Innappropriate?!?" she hissed.  "That isn't what you said last night!"

The woman spat, then stormed back to her station.  "Perhaps you can polish your Bat'leth yourself from now on," she added. 

In a desperate bid to save face, Vass stomped to the front of the Bridge to address the crew. 

"Attention, warriors!"  he yelled.  As the crew turned, the captain studied the faces arrayed before him, trying to ignore the knowing smirks on several of the officer's faces. 

"We stand on the threshold of greatness!"  he thundered.  "We have been selected by the Admiral and the Regent to serve as one of the Swords of the Alliance!"  Vass' chest puffed with pride as he continued.

"We are about to enter battle with The Borg!" 

The Klingon paced about the bridge, glancing from face to face.  "This ship is one of a select few that has been armed with the Alliance's ultimate weapon-- A Thalaron Generator!  Once deployed, we will be able to reduce the Borg to a pile of cybernetic scrap metal!"

Vass once again took his seat, turning to glare at the officers.  "Of course, we will also be destroyed in the encounter, but IT WILL BE GLORIOUS!  Our names will be remembered for generations to come..."

A wistful smile crossed the Captain's face as he trailed off, envisioning his impending greatness. 

Unnoticed by him, his crew returned to their duties.  Some wore smiles of fierce pride; but more than a few wore looks of uncertainty and trepidation. 

And unnoticed by all, a lowly, ragged Terran slave stepped quietly out of the bridge.  As the bridge doors closed behind him, the slave leaned against the bulkhead, a look of concentration creasing his bearded face.  The world around him seemed to fade away as the slave opened himself to the One True Light of his universe; the soothing, healing voice of Her.

As a mental connection was finally made, the slave felt all doubt and uncertainty wash away.  He shivered in ecstasy as chaos was temporarily replaced by the Unity and Perfection of The Cooperative.  He sensed his Queen's acknowledgement of his presence, and Her calm, silent inquiry.

I have information for you, the slave sent.  A possible threat posed by the Alliance.  I am now uploading data regarding the Klingon's Thalaron Generator...

The slave was snapped out of his blissfull state by the butt of a disruptor smashing against his skull.  He shook his head, trying to clear his senses, and stared up into the leering face of a Klingon warrior.  The warrior grabbed him by the shoulders, and gave him a violent shake. 

"Lazy Tera'ngan scum; always standing around daydreaming!"  The Klingon shoved the slave down the corridor, and gave him a parting kick to the rear.  "Get back to work, K'Tan, or I'll personally throw you out of the nearest airlock!"

As the nanites within him began healing his injured skull, K'Tan grinned.  Soon, She would come, and bring order to this troubled quadrant...

Joint post by Rico and wraith1701


Mirror Universe-



At the rear of the dimly lit bridge of the NegVar, two burnished steel doors slid apart with a harsh, grinding scrape.  KoraQ stepped through, quickly surveying his assembled crew.  Captain K'Lara glanced back over her shoulder as the General stomped forward to take position beside her chair.  KoraQ placed a heavily callused hand on her shoulder, arresting her rise from the seat, and directed his glare towards the forward viewscreen.  "Magnify view," he rumbled.

On screen, the Tiberius held station in the background as a smaller escort ship hammered away at the leading Borg Cube.  The Cube's shields flared to life as they deflected the escort's phaser barrage, creating a shortlived sphere of coruscating energy around the titanic vessel.  As the Terran escort completed it's strafing run, a vibrant green spear of destructive energy lanced out from Borg cube, and was halted mere meters from the escort's hull by it's own weakening shields. The verdant beam shifted position to follow the escort's flight path, never wavering from the same spot on it's faltering shields.

As KoraQ looked on, the escort's shields flickered, then winked out; the devastating Borg beam immediately punched trough the ship's primary hull, coring the saucer-shaped craft and emerging from the opposite side.  Like a buzz-saw cutting through rotted wood, the beam effortlessly traversed the length of the saucer, opening it up like packet of field rations and spilling metallic debris, clouds of flash-frozen atmosphere, and the tiny, flailing forms of crewmen into the cold, harsh vacuum.  By and by, the beam intersected the thicker engineering section of the Terran escort, and as it ate into the warp core, the image was whited out by the retina searing glare of an anti-matter explosion.

KoraQ blinked rapidly to clear the afterimage of the warp core explosion from his sight.   His vision cleared in time for him to see the sphere of hellish energy dissipate and fade away, leaving no sign of the doomed escort in it's wake.

As the Borg ship resumed it's advance, the Tiberius and another escort craft moved forward, each unleashing a storm of glowing photon torpedoes.

"I've seen enough," KoraQ growled.  "Drop cloak and hail the Tiberius."


Across the debris-strewn gulf, the Tiberius continued its advance on the Borg.  From the center of the command deck, surrounded by his frantically working crewmen, the ship's iron-haired Admiral gazed stoically at the forward viewscreen.  A somewhat nervous Ensign turned to address the Admiral.

"Klingon vessel decloaking Admiral.  They are hailing us."

Amid the slight chaos of the Tiberius' bridge, the eyes of the crewmen flicked forward; the tension was palpable as they watched the remains of their escort vessel spin off the edges of the viewscreen.

"Return fire again!  Let's make those mechanical bastards pay for that."  Admiral Talbot said as he stood close to the OPS station.  He knew the battle was won, but these Borg did not seem to want to retreat.  And the clean up was getting messy he thought to himself as he ran a hand through his short black & gray hair.

"The  NegVar continues to hail us, Admiral."

"Very well, put him on screen Ensign.  But afterwards I want an updated damage report, fleet status, and transporter report on survivors.  Dammit, this should be over by now!"  Talbot said as he made himself sit back down in the command center seat and tried to regain his composure as he watched the screen waver and become filled with the bridge of the Klingon vessel.


Back on the NegVar, KoraQ leaned forward as the view of the battlefield was replaced by an image of the Tiberius' bridge.  A tall, black and gray haired man of regal bearing stared silently at him.  KoraQ noted the arch of the man's brow, and his tapering ears.

A Vulcan? he thought.

Then his eyes locked with the man's, and he recognized a warrior's heart behind the steely gaze.

No; not a weakling Vulcan...  a Romulan.

KoraQ stepped towards the Viewscreen, squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine.

"Greetings, RomuluSngan.  I am KoraQ; Admiral of the mighty Alliance fleet.  As much as I detest your pitiful, so-called Empire, I detest the Borg even more."

KoraQ crossed his arms before him, and regarded the Admiral with a derisive smirk.  "I am therefore willing to offer a temporary truce, and rescue you!  My crew is ready and able to teach you  weaklings how real warriors fight!"

The Admiral of the Terran vessel regarded KoraQ coldly, his eyebrow quirked in indignation.

"Admiral Talbot here, leader of the Imperial Fleet you see surrounding you and the Borg.  You are a little far from home, Admiral.  I'm not in the habit of speaking to those that insult my heritage, or my crew.  Close channel Ensign."  Talbot said in a louder voice than he intended as the bridge crew turned to stare at him.


Aboard the NegVar, KoraQ stared at the blank viewscreen in stunned silence.  From behind him, he heard a stifled snicker.  Arms trembling with anger, he whirled around to face the bridge crew.

"Who thinks this is funny?!" he bellowed.  Several of his crews' eyes flickered towards the warrior manning the science station before returning to their own panels.

With an inarticulate cry of rage, KoraQ leapt to the rear of the bridge, simultaneously drawing his Dak'Tag.  Grasping the warrior by the neck with one hand, KoraQ lifted him from his seat and slammed him against the wall.

"Laugh at this, PetaQ!"

With lightening quickness, KoraQ plunged his dagger into the warrior's belly, then ripped the blade violently upward, tearing open the hapless klingon's abdomen.  The Admiral watched the life leave the man's eyes as his viscera plopped wetly to the deck, then hurled his twitching corpse to the floor.

"Someone clean up this mess!" he yelled, whirling to face the viewscreen.  "Arm disruptors, load all torpedo bays, and take us in!"

After wiping his blade off on his pants leg, KoraQ sheathed the weapon and took the seat next to Captain K'Lara's.  He glanced at her, a wicked grin forming on his face.

"We will help the Terra'ngans destroy the Borg whether they like it or not," he said.

"And once we deal with the Borg, we will destroy the Tiberius as well!"

The swirling colors of transwarp parted and allowed the massive almond shaped organic craft to emerge into normal space. Thousands of Cooperative drones manned their stations as their queen wordlessly moved to the dais in the center of her command chamber. Outside of the living ship, the Collective waged battle against the Terrans and Alliance in a fight to the death. With but a thought, the young queen activated the communications system of the Cooperative and relayed their message to the minds and machines of their enemies just as three formerly cloaked Cooperative ships revealed themselves to the combatants.

"We are the Cooperative. Cease hostility and surrender. Aggression will be met with deadly force. Cooperation will be rewarded with harmony. The worthy shall be welcomed and the flawed shall be allowed to leave this space unharmed." The voice of the Cooperative over the communications systems of the gathered ships and in the minds of their crews. Aria's message reached through the vacuum and even caressed the minds of the long eared, multi-hued race that resided on the planet near the rift.

In a less than subtle show of force, Aria's fleet fired upon the Collective. Brilliant azure bolts of energy erupted from the six Cooperative vessels to emerge from cloaks and transwarp. With unified thoughts, each ship targeted critical Borg systems. Purple tinted arcs of power danced over the hull of the Queen's Flagship as it's own weapons added to the attacks against the Borg vessels. One of her agents was in severe trouble and she needed that agent.

Two hundred of her personal drones had been reconfigured for personal combat and stood at the ready to combat her enemies. Personal shields, cloaking abilities, and enhancements to their physical abilities would serve her children well in the even of personal combat aboard the enemy ships. Cloning chambers created though enhanced Founder technology waited aboard her vessel, ready to replenish her fallen children.

"Disperse tactical drones to each Borg vessel with orders to neutralize the treats." Aria ordered as advanced Cooperative sensors searched the fleet for possible new additions to their harmony. "Dispatch Cooperative vessel 2135 to the habited planet and begin harvest of two percent of the population."

"Yes my Queen," replied Megan, Alpha Seven of Eight. The dark hair of the once human woman highlighted her now snow white skin and more of her Queen's genetics than her own. As an Alpha, she served as one of the Queen's eight chosen elite. Her modifications enhanced not only her body, but her mind as well. She was redesigned to function as an organic computer. A secondary node that processed vast information from the Cooperative and transmitted the Queen's orders to her children. Genetic additions acquired from the Bynar tied her to the other seven Alphas and the heart of each Cooperative ship. "Tactical units are prepared for transport. Scout ship 2135 is moving into planetary orbit."

Aria nodded. Vocal communication between her people were not needed, but they allowed her people a voice. Even as they spoke, the words were already being routed to the proper locations via their interconnected network. "Thank you."

D'Oona, Alpha Four of Eight, served as Aria's primary communication's officer aboard her ship. It was her responsibility to be the Voice of the Cooperative. When the Cooperative generally spoke to those outside, it was D'Oonna's voice they heard. The once vulcan had come to her new people freely after discovering the logic to the purpose of the Cooperative. "My Queen, communications with our enemies are prepared to initiate on your command."

"Very good," Aria said. She then reached her mind out to her hidden children. The shadows that she had planted in the hearts of her enemies' fleets. It is time my children. We now move directly against our foes.

Fertillians, secreted among many enemy vessels involved in the battle modified to appear as the races they mingled with, once again heard the orders of the Cooperative. They were her special project, a canvas that allowed her to create her own specific line of their species. Her fertillians were enhanced to be quite attractive to other humanoid races. Their natural pheromone abilities were integrated and enhanced throughout the Cooperative, blended with Orion pheromones to create something quite dangerous.

Those Fertillians that had been modified for espionage had also been rendered sterile. She could not afford to lose an investment by having them die due to an unexpected pregnancy. Her Fertillian spies were designed to appeal to anyone, but their appearance and natural scents were specifically created to target select individuals.

The Fertillians were her flowers on the worlds of her enemies. It was now time for her foes to see their thorns. It was time for her children to the battle to use the knowledge gained from their relationships to increase the tactical advantage of her people. She even had her favorite among them, the one designated as Spring. To that one, she had given many gifts and favors. Spring had earned a position among the Queen's Elite and the title of Two of Eight. It was her job to use seduction and soothing to acquire the objectives of the Cooperative. If Aria's people had a chief diplomat and spy master, it would be Two of Eight.

Three of Eight, another of her select and former resident of the Delta Quadrant, had been instructed to use the Queen's personal shuttle to breach the rift. Her task was simple. Find out what lays on the other side and should she find the Alpha signal, leave a beacon and the peaceful intentions of the Cooperative. Inside the cloaked shuttle aboard the flagship, the young fair haired girls waited for word from her mistress to begin her mission. While her people normally had a lifespan of seven years, she had been enhanced to live as long as the other members of the Cooperative. With her own natural psionic gifts, Kes was a very suitable choice for the mission.

It was now time for her to greet her enemies with her own voice and complete her own objectives. With another thought, she activated communications to the Terran flagship.

"Emperor Locke, you have something of mine. Several things in point of fact. Surrender them and I might allow your vessels to escape intact." Aria said through the open communications channel. Many of her features still favored her mother's beauty and the additional genetic additions only served to magnify that beauty. It would be obvious to those who knew Sevryll that they shared a genetic connection. Another thought raced though her ship and informed her crew to ready the nanoprobe warheads in addition to their standard armaments. "You have sixty seconds to comply. Failure will force us to scour this system."

"Arm the Omega Device," Aria said to her crew and severed communications with the Emperor. She did not wait for a response. The humans needed to know that there would be no delay and no debate.

It would take far less than sixty seconds for her to locate and get a transporter lock on her targets. She wanted her enemies to think that they had options when the did not. As each bit of information came to the Cooperative, her people analyzed it and created new projections on possible events. It was Aria's hidden network of agents that leaked information of the Cooperative's ability to destroy an entire system using a combination of a omega particle to disrupt subspace and a trillithum warhead to send a star into supernova. Called the Omega Device, it was a weapon of mass destruction that few possessed the ability to escape.

While it was easily in the ability of the Cooperative to create such a weapon, it was something that would defeat the purpose of her people. She did not was to destroy the universe, she wanted to save it. A single test in an uninhabited system provided her enemies with visual proof of the weapon's effectiveness. She did not need to arm her ships with the weapons, all she needed was the fear they caused.

David paced his quarters like a caged lion as the ship rattled beneath his feet. The Queen of the Cooperative had appeared before him on his personal display, demanding that he return what belonged to her... He had faced down the Queen with an arrogant pride that would have made his father proud, "Yours? Are you sure? Well, she does look a lot like you, but... SHE IS VERY MUCH, MINE! And if you're not careful, so will you!"

"You have sixty seconds to comply. Failure will force us to scour this system."

He threw a mug of ale at his viewer as the ship lurched from another Borg Volley. The screen sparked and the Queen vanished. 




The drug that Doctor Peterson administered, almost twelve hours before, had long ago worn off. But the rush of Adrenaline that recently flooded her body, had numbed the symptoms of her troubled pregnancy and she took full advantage of its temporary benefits. Sevryll strode with driven purpose from the brig to David Locke's quarters...At last she would act upon the vengeful fantasies she envisioned, while he slept peacefully at her side.

Her bare feet padded quietly on the cold metal deck plates as she advanced toward his door. The robe she wore when she was taken away by D'Callan, hung loosely about her...her hair fell in messy strands over her heaving shoulders. Her teeth chattered, not from the cold air, but from the rage she willingly allowed to break the surface of her composure. The Emperor had murdered her husband and stolen her freedom...but his ultimate transgression was endangering HER children...

His guards failed to stop her progression as she stepped into the entry. She flicked the brawny men aside like su-leitri and entered the room. The Emperor was dressed in his military uniform, at his side hung a dagger and phaser. He folded his arms over his chest and leveled a devious grin on the slight vulcan, "you made quick work of my guards... I supposed you've taken care of D'Callan for me as well? I was just about to retrieve you from that spineless trash, but it looks as though you've saved me the trouble."

The low light cast ominous shadows over Sevryll's face, and they moved over her skin like a lover's caress as she stepped toward the Emperor. Her eyes were narrowed, her hands were curled into tight fists and her jaw was set causing the tendons in her neck to protrude. He laughed, "You look upset, my love...let me work the tension out of your shoulders...you wouldn't want the stress to affect the children would you?" His hand went to his dagger in preparation as she continued toward him.

Without warning, her expression changed and tears welled in her eyes. She stopped and covered her face in humiliation as silent sobs over took her. Unaffected, the Emperor watched a moment before moving cautiously toward her. After a protracted amount of time, he gauged her strange emotions as genuine and covered her small hands with his own... as if too sooth her. Pulling them gently to his chest, he then wiped the tears from her face. A victorious smile stretched across his lips as she melted against him. Sobbing audibly now, Sevryll held him tightly...he had won...or so he thought. He bent to kiss her and she returned it eagerly. When she was certain that he was completely distracted, she slid her hands from his back and seductively moved them to his shoulders. With one hand she ran her fingers through his hair, with the other she gripped the pressure point where his neck met his shoulder. His firm kiss slackened as his mouth gaped in shock and the slight Vulcan stepped aside as David's hulking form fell like a downed tree. "Ovsotik!" She shouted the Vulcan word for 'idiot', as she wiped his kiss from her mouth in disgust.

Grabbing the back of his black uniform jacket, she dragged him from the room. Her adrenaline was spent, and the queasiness had returned, but she was determined to be rid of the man who had ruined her life. She pulled him into a turbolift and rode it to the next floor where the transporter awaited. As she exited, soldiers jogged past... oblivious to her presence. The battle had intensified and they were focused on survival—not on the lissome Vulcan who pulled the massive Terran with little effort down the corridor. She paused briefly as the nausea threatened to end her mission...but the children stirred within her, encouraging her to trudge on. She slapped a weary hand upon the Emperor's back and hauled him into the transporter room then onto the dais. Locke moaned as she stepped down and approached the transporter panel. From behind the station, Sevryll closed her eyes and focused on Admiral Talbot's distinct mental signature. She located him quickly and made a single request, "I require the coordinates to the Borg King's central alcove." The answer came quickly, and without an inquiry of his own.

The whir of the transporter roused him, and David sat up. An eddy of shimmering particles enveloped him, and as his form was transported to the Borg cube, he heard Sevryll's voice echo through the gulf, "Rom-halan k'diwa." She sarcastically spat the Vulcan words for "farewell beloved" then stumbled out of the transporter room.

Sevryll willed herself into the lift and requested the command deck. The minutes were a blur as she ascended. The bustling activity of the bridge gained her attention as the door to the lift whisked open. There, before the viewscreen, was Admiral Talbot. In a daze, she stepped from the lift and wandered through the absorbed bridge crew, to approach the Romulan commander. "Admiral Talbot," She uttered as he spun around in surprise to see her standing behind him. "The Emperor is aboard the Borg Cube. I put him there... Please...allow him time to suffer before you destroy it..."

Joint Post by Rico, Jen and Just X

"Hail the Cooperative vessel," said Talbot.

"This is Admiral Talbot, commanding the Tiberius and the Imperial Fleet."  Talbot said as he noticed Sevryll straighten at the sight of the younger version of herself on the viewscreen.

"Admiral Talbot, we have heard of you.  Sevryll, Servant of the Cooperative, you have done well," said Aria coolly as she nodded to the Vulcan standing beside him.

The word "servant" rang harshly in Sevryll's ears—she was not Aria's servant nor was she the David Locke's property. The Vulcan had managed to free herself and her children from the Emperor...and now she would liberate them from the Cooperative.

Though physically weak, the former Mistress managed to lift her chin with confidence, "I am not your subject... and I will not be returning to your 'organization'."

The Queen merely raised a brow at the statement, "Did you not realize that we would anticipate such an action and calculate its effect on our harmony? Your personal genetic code is already a part of the Cooperative. Your refusal to join us is irrelevant."

Sevryll regarded the younger woman whose dark features filled the viewer, "and did you not anticipate that the telepathy you granted me would enable me to trace your thoughts? You value family above all else—you would not discard your 'siblings' so quickly. You covet them, but I will not allow you to add them to your growing collection..."

Aria narrowed her eyes, Sevryll now threatened something that did not belong to her. She swiftly considered the probabilities of her servant's actions and spoke with carefully chosen words, "The telepathic bond you speak of has also revealed your motivations to me. I know that Justice was done ... Empress. We will grant you this boon as payment for services rendered. However, you would be wise not mistake our kindness for weakness. We are also willing to grant you and your allies safe passage in exchange for the genetic material of specific individuals that interest us... in addition to two captives held on your ship." Aria's people rarely negotiated, but it served her great agenda to do so. The compromise would plant the seeds for her future victory, and would cost fewer resources.

"Safe passage?  As you can see, the Tiberius and the Fleet have been making easy work of the Borg in this area."  Talbot said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise.  He had an immediate dislike and clear distrust for this person who looked so much like Sevryll.

Aria tilted her head slightly and transmitted a list of names within the fleet, of individuals who had drawn her attention. "We are not our cousins, Admiral. We do not simply adapt, we anticipate and we have already seen our victory. We hold superior firepower and tactical advantage. Failure to comply to our demands will result in our taking what we require by..."

Talbot interrupted Aria's threat with a signal to cut the transmission. Sevryll glanced up at the much taller Romulan, "Thank you..." she said with the slightly irritated tone. "She is driven to realize her goal, you should heed her warning....  May I study this list as well, Admiral? "

"Certainly.  And you will also fill me in on what you have been up to, Sevryll."  Talbot said, trying to leave the emotions he was feeling out of his tone.

Joint post by Jen and Rico

Outside the Ready Room, the staff manning the bridge traded glances. They had learned much from the tense exchange moments ago with the Cooperative. The Queen had referred to Mistress Sevryll as 'Servant of the Cooperative' and then, almost mockingly, as 'Empress'. Did the Vulcan woman murder the Emperor and take the throne?  Was Admiral Talbot involved in some way? The Tactical Officer pitched his gaze to the soldier manning the station nearby—they could not permit an alien to rule the Terran Empire.

The Ops Officer observed the unspoken exchange between the men at tactical, and met the gaze of the officer sitting at the Con. As long as his name wasn't on the Queen's list...yielding a handful of people to Cooperative, in order to survive as a whole, was an adequate solution to their current dilemma in the Ops officer's opinion. The soldier positioned at the Con turned his eyes from the man at the Ops station, back to his terminal. Unlike the tactical officers, he was not opposed to a non-Terran Emperor. His paternal grandfather, a Vulcan, had raised him on stories of Spock's reformation. It had been many years since a Vulcan held power in the Empire and the Con officer hoped that the next ruler would revisit Spock's changes, and make them permanent. Perhaps the two individuals debating their futures in Captain's Ready Room, would bring about that reform. The Con and Ops Officers would support the new Emperor, if for no other reason but for the prospect of societal progress.

In the Ready Room, Sevryll spoke to the Admiral with the dignity she lacked the last time they met face to face. "you withheld important details from me during our little telepathic exchange" said Talbot. "I said I would support you, but I don't know that I trust you completely." He took a pull of Romulan Ale from a mug and offered it to Sevryll. She wanted to refuse, but accepted the container and cautiously sniffed the alcoholic beverage. A brow arched in alarm at the potent smell and against her better judgment, she took a small experimental sip. It had a disgusting flavor, but the last thing she wanted to do was offend the man who held her fate. She subdued the look of revulsion and swallowed the horrible drink that rested on her tongue. It burned her throat before settling at the bottom of her queasy stomach. Sevryll felt like gagging but managed to confine the reflex to a cough and handed the metal cup back to the Admiral. Amused, by her willful nature he shrug and a crossed his arms.

The lanky Romulan was sitting on the edge of the desk with his ankles crossed and stretched before him. He leveled a stern look on Sevryll as she lowered herself into a chair and met his gaze,  "You question my honesty...I do not blame you.  But let me assure you Admiral that I do not desire power nor do I wish to see the Empire destroyed. My only aim was to obtain retribution for the crimes the Emperor committed against me. I used the Cooperative to reach this goal and Aria used me to achieve her own. I did not expect to live long enough to suffer for her triumphs. My plan was to end my life shortly after I ended David's, but as you now know...I would not die alone.  I was not pregnant when I made the decision to enter this agreement with the Cooperative—my condition has changed my perspective and I will fight to guarantee a future for my children rather than surrender them to death or the Cooperative." She leaned back in her chair wearily as she continued. "I was recruited as an agent two years after the Emperor 'acquired me'.  It was the Cooperative Queen, Aria, who informed me of the conspiracy that killed my husband and bound me to the Emperor.  After learning this, I cared for nothing but vengeance. Aria took advantage of that vulnerability by offering me justice in exchange for information.  I accepted her proposition, and over the years I provided her with intel that I gathered from the debriefings that David foolishly included me in."

Talbot smirked as he recalled the last time he and Sevryll met. The Admiral had been concerned by her presence in his debriefing with the Emperor, but David had insisted that she remain. Sevryll noticed Talbot's grin, "If he had taken your suggestion, Admiral, he would be ruling his Empire rather than charging in his newly assigned alcove." His grin shrank slightly as he envisioned the drone who was once David Locke. It was an appropriate fate for the cold-hearted Terran, but the thought of her decisive action still sent a chill down his spine.  Sevryll picked up on his discomfort, stood and walked to the viewport to gaze out at the Cooperative ship. "Aria's need for information soon transitioned to more demanding assignments. My latest mission was to obtain the Tiberius's shield modulation codes...I'm sure you can imagine why the Queen would want them. I attempted to gain those codes, but after I disposed of the Emperor I tasted freedom. I do not wish to exchange one master to another—the Cooperative would offer my children and I nothing but the promise of further servitude. In exchange for refuge and freedom, Admiral... I offer you the Empire. You would make a fitting Emperor." She uttered smoothly as she turned to face Talbot.


He tilted his head slightly in reaction to her proposal, "You must have sensed the distrust and uncertainty on the bridge when we left.  I'm not nearly the telepath you are, but I did notice several glances that made me very uneasy.  You don't get to my position in the Fleet, without watching for such movements.  If we are not careful we will have a mutiny on our hands.  We have that to worry about plus the Cooperative and Alliance—our current situation will make survival very difficult to say the least."  Talbot said as he took another long drink of ale—he welcomed the burn of the blue liquid as it slid down his throat.

"Yes, I sense the tension you mentioned. But they would fall in line eventually," she said.

He straightened, "I have no desire to rule the Empire, Sevryll... I prefer to be less of a target.  I propose a partnership between the two of us, for the time being. I'll announce to the crew that the Emperor is dead. I will inform the Imperial Council as well—let them name their new leader.  We need to deal with the immediate threat," Talbot said as he handed a PADD to Sevryll. "Here is the list of names from the Cooperative.  How do you propose we handle this?" 

Sevryll studied the Admiral's chiseled face as he spoke. The best rulers were those who did not want the responsibility... Like Tevian, Talbot was a respectable man and she admired his rejection of power.  She took the Personal Access Display Device that he offered, and scanned the information.  Sevryll did not wish to turn anyone over to the Cooperative, especially the name at the top of the list: Rhys Peters. She stifled a grimace and continued to scan the names as she paced before Talbot. Below Rhys was the name "Nathan Quinn"—the telepath Sevryll recently brushed minds with. Quinn had claimed that he was not from this dimension, and that he knew Sevryll.  He had asked for her help. She did not owe him anything, but something inside her disliked the thought of betraying his confidence in her.  Of all the individuals the Cooperative demanded, Quinn was the one addition that Aria's stood to benefit the most from, for he was an extremely powerful telepath.

The Vulcan stopped her pacing and glanced up at Talbot, "We can not afford to grant her these individuals...but I see no other option. Aria will simply take what we refuse to freely give." Sevryll narrowed her eyes in thought and grew silent a moment, "what of the Alliance fleet? Could a pact be made with their leader? Is there something we can exchange for their support?"

"I was contacted by Admiral KoraQ a short time ago...he seemed eager to aid us.  I know that the Regent is in our Brig.  Perhaps if we returned Worf to his people, we could gain honor in the Klingons' eyes.  I think we could use all the allies we can get at this point.  KoraQ and I got off on the wrong foot, but I'm sure I can persuade him to listen.  What do you think?"  Talbot said as he raised an eyebrow at Sevryll.

She failed to quell a slight smile that surfaced in reaction to the Admiral's very Vulcan gesture. The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, "I think you should explore that option, Admiral. Let's hope it is the solution to one of our many problems." She paused a moment and regarded him in silence. She would not venture to probe his thoughts, this was a question that required a verbal answer, "Admiral, am I to assume that this partnership you propose means that you are granting me refuge?"


"Of course.  I know what you have done and I understand your reasoning.... We all have our ghosts. You are under the protection of the Tiberius and have my word that you will not be harmed while you remain aboard my ship.  In the meantime, I will assign my personal guard to watch over you, for there will no doubt be attempts on your life in an effort to avenge the Emperor.  You and your children deserve a better future...We will make one for them together, by our actions today."  He said as he extended a hand in friendship to her.  As Sevryll moved to take the Admiral's hand, her stress was momentarily lifted and an overwhelming relief washed over her.  She shook his hand once, then stepped close to the man she had come to trust and respect and hugged him in an innocent gesture of honest gratitude.  For a brief moment, he was surprised by the atypical emotional display but soon wrapped his arms around her when he felt the muted sobs.

Joint post Trekkygeek and Startrekfanatic5

It had taken what seemed like hours but Rhys had finally freed himself from his restraints. His captors had relaxed enough to leave him in the room alone thinking he was more out of it than he actually was and he had waited until he was sure he was alone before he struggled free.

He had to get out of this cell and discover if Nathan Quinn was in fact alive, and if he was, then to get him off this dreadful ship. Rhys skillfully ran his fingers over the number pad at the side of the door, within a few seconds he had hacked the system and the door whooshed open. He didn't know the layout of the ship but knew that Quinn would have tucked himself into an enclosed space somewhere. Rhys figured he would start where Quinn was last said to be held, Margon's Lab.

As he reached the corridor there were security teams all over the place as well as clean up crews mopping up the mess that was Margon's lab. Rhys noticed a jefferies tube hatch just left of the main doors and knew if he was Quinn and needed a quick place to hide that this would be ideal. Peters causally walked over to the jefferies tube entrance and when the security team had their backs turned he quickly opened and entered the tube. He crawled on his hands and knees for a few meters when he noticed a body slumped against the bulkhead just ahead.

Rhys sat up and pulled the unconscious man's head into his lap and looked down at his old friend. "Oh my god... it is you Nathan" Peter's bent down and kissed Nathan on the forehead and said. " I must get you to safety and off this ship." Nathan stirred and opened his eyes slowly looking at the man who's lap he was in. "Rhys" he said quietly. "How can this be??" "Shhhhh, don't speak, I need to figure out where we can hide." Rhys said as he propped Quinn up against the bulkhead. Nathan sat there confused staring at the friend that he had lost so many years ago.

Joint post by Wraith1701 and Just X

Aria stood in the center of her protected command center and observed the status of the battle. Her people had yet to fire a shot on the non-borg, but the humans had exceeded their time limit. It was time to make an example.

"Transport the probe though the rift and hail the Commander of the Alliance Fleet," Aria commanded and waited for a response. Her people had already acquired significant Klingon and Cardassian genetics and thus far they had no real need for additional subjects, but the Alliance could be useful in this instance. Even as she waited for contact, she extended her mind outwards towards her target on the Tiberius. While she searched for Quinn, she informed her ships to bring weapons lock on the Imperial vessels and prepare for battle.

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the NegVar, Admiral KoraQ stared mutely at the viewscreen.  He was irked by the newcomer's demand that all combatants stand down, but his desire to lash out was quelled by the ease with which the Cooperative had neutralized the other Borg ships.

It appears as though they have us outgunned, he thought.

At least, for now.

A warrior at a nearby terminal turned to address Captain K'Lara.

"I'm detecting heavy comm traffic between the Cooperative and the Terrans," he said.  "Could they be plotting against us?"

"Good question," the Captain replied.  Turning to face KoraQ, she asked "Should we fire on all of the vessels, Admiral?"

The Admiral shook his head.  "Not yet, Captain.  Patience is one of the most valuable tools in a hunter's arsenal.  I think now is a fine time for us to use it."

At the communications station, a clearly agitated warrior turned to once again address K'Lara.

"Captain; we are now being hailed by the Cooperative Ship!"

Both KoraQ and K'Lara answered simultaneously.

"On screen!"

As the striking image of what KoraQ assumed to be a young woman of vulcanoid ancestry appeared on the monitor, he returned to the center of the dimly-lit bridge.  After taking the seat at K'Lara's side, KoraQ glared at the comm officer.  "Mute audio until further notice.  And contact the 9th fleet.  I want all ships to rendezvous with us here as quickly as possible."

Leaning back in his chair, KoraQ slowly stroked his beard.  Let's see how these cyborgs react to a little Thalaron radiation, he thought with a grin.

The Admiral squared his shoulders, and locked eyes with the image on the viewscreen.  "Activate audio," he rumbled.

After the communication's officer signaled that a channel was opened, KoraQ leaned forward aggressively.

"I am Admiral KoraQ of the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance," he growled.  "What do you want?"

"To save innocent lives Admiral," Aria said and offered a polite smile. "The Cooperative is not here to do battle with either you or your enemies. We wish to avoid unnecessary bloodshed and would hate to devolve into pointless and futile combat."

Aria quietly observed the Klingon in command of the fleet before she continued. "As you can see, we have only engaged our wayward cousins in combat and we would like to keep it that way. What is your purpose in this system Admiral and how long before you withdraw? We would hate to see your fleet suffer damage as we exterminate our cousins. I am prepared to sterilize this system to achieve that goal."

In truth, she did not care what his purpose was. Unlike her Borg cousins, she did not rely on a single vessel to enforce her might. She brought decisive firepower with her. Gunboat diplomacy was after all one of her favorite tools.

KoraQ's jaw clenched with anger as he absorbed the woman's threat.  Sterilize the system? he thought.  Well, two could play at that game.

KoraQ glanced at a nearby tactical display-- the remainder of his fleet, including the vessels armed with Thalaron Generators, would be arriving at any moment.

I have to stall for time, he thought.

KoraQ's first instinct was to answer the Cooperative with a roar of defiance and a brace of torpedoes, but as the ancient Klingon gambling saying went: One had to know when to hold them, and know when to fold them.
 
He stood, visibly trembling with the effort to appear calm and nonthreatening.  "You say that you only want to save innocent lives and prevent bloodshed," KoraQ said.  "Forgive me, but that doesn't sound like the Borg I know.  Since when were you appointed the Galaxy's shepherds?"

"Apparently you are not as informed as your title would dictate," Aria said while maintaining her almost innocent smile. "We are not the monsters that our cousins are. We have better means to pursue perfection. We became the shepherds of the Galaxy when others proved incompetent to do so. You are not our enemy unless you choose to do so. We are here to destroy the Collective and those that plot against us. We invite you to fight beside us and ask that you not fight against us. Today is not a good day to die admiral."

KoraQ chuckled at the woman's use of words.  "Your so-called cousins are a scourge, fit only to be wiped out.  If your aim is to destroy them, I'd be glad to assist you.  But bear in mind; the Alliance bows to no one!  Any unsanctioned activity in our space will be met with deadly force."

KoraQ dropped back into the chair to K'Lara's left, and offered Aria a cold smile.  "Every man, woman and child of the Alliance will fight to the death before tolerating a threat to our sovereignty."

A quiet beep issued from K'Lara's armrest; KoraQ turned to meet her vicious grin.  "The fleet has arrived, Admiral," she said.  "They await your orders."

KoraQ turned an eye to Aria's image on the viewscreen.  "It seems we have a truce, at the moment.  Our new allies aren't like the other Borg.  Target only the Borg ships that I indicate, and then send them all to Grethor!"

KoraQ turned to the comm officer.  "Close channel!"

Aria's image winked out, to be replaced by the starscape surrounding the NegVar.  Space seemed to waver as the combined Klingon - Cardassian Armada decloaked and rippled into view.

As he watched the weapons ports of the nearest ships iris open, KoraQ smiled.  He had no reason to trust the Cooperative.  Once the remains of the original fleet were dealt with, he would have to reconsider just how long this so-called truce would last...

Dunn had lost Margon. The spray from several tubes had blocked their path and when Dunn had turned round all he saw was a trail of blood heading in the other direction.

"Damn him, wish I'd never helped him. D'Callan will have me for this"

He turned and headed for the Brigg, his way was obstructed by security officers all running in different directions.

"Its like caged rats" thought Dunn.

It took him ten minutes to reach the Brigg. He stood straight and pulled his tunic down so he looked representable in front of his master, walking towards the glass frosted his door he was about walk in as the glass shattered. The huge figure of the Klingon Worf passed him and he crashed into the computer panel causing it to burst into sparks.

"Nice to see you again Mr Worf"

The Klingon ignored Dunn and jumped straight up, howling with rage he ran back into the Brigg. Dunn peared round, the first things he saw were bodies of the prisoners. He winced at the sight.

"What animal did this" he whispered.

Looking up he saw the animal in question. D'Callan was fighting Worf, he had one eye and the side of his face had near enough been caved in, blood sprayed from a wound on his thigh and it looked like a rib was poking from his black tunic. It was clear to Dunn that Worf would win this, the Klingon had cuts and bruises but he had the stamina. Worf quite clearly hadn't been fighting with five other men. Dunn waited and enjoyed the scene as Worf brought his clenched fists down onto D'Callans neck.

"Oh Mr Worf, your attention please"

Worf turned and growled at Dunn, but that was all he could do. It took no more than a second for Dunn to blast the Klingon in the chest with his phaser. Silence around the brig was new to the officer, nothing from D'Callan and the Klingon lay still.

Dunn laughed and bent down to D'Callan.

"I think i will make an excellent Interrogator, don't you? The Emperor will be so pleased with me"

Dunn stood back up and bellowed with laughter only to be cut short by a knife gliding through his ankles, screaming in pain he fell like a sack of potatoes and glared in horror at the one open eye of Joseph D'Callan.

As the Queen of the Cooperative plotted her next move, she received word from her children harvesting the inhabited planet of the system. They had met little resistance and the harvest progressed smoothly. She was more than pleased at their progress in the short window.

While the normal method of the Cooperative was to abduct a small test sample of a population and enhance her children to produce pheromones that inspired peace within a species. This time, she did not custom tailor her children, but relied on their already enhanced abilities.

Her agents on the surface offered cures to illnesses and the mending of the infirmed. In exchange for their aid, the Cooperative would also take some of their number to the stars. Her agent were honest of their intent to the native people they visited. They would make the population better and some would be chosen to travel with them to other worlds.

Those that were selected to join the Cooperative were first assimilated into the hearts and minds of her children. Their minds became awash in the harmony that comprised the Cooperative. Doubt and fears were replaced with understanding and a sense of complete belonging. The aggression that thrived in the universe was replaced with a sense of divine purpose within the Cooperative.

Those outside of the Cooperative might see her actions as brainwashing her children, but she saw it as bringing clarity to those that had traveled in the darkness for far too long. It was rare for her people to resort to combat when harvesting a selected world, but was not unheard of. There were always those that would give their lives to resist inevitable change. She was happy that this was not one of those worlds.

Life was important to the Queen of the Cooperative and each death at the hands of her children was not forgotten. She knew that there were those that did not deserve the harmony she offered and while it hurt her, they did not have a place in her harmony.

From the moment that reality shifted around her, a part of her had been lost. In her haste to save herself she had given her father her katra and it was he that was lost to her. If the signal beyond the rift was true then she might once again find her father and share her new purpose with him. She existed in the balance between life and death.

The lives that she saved and the blood on her hands were her burden to carry. The universe she now called home was too flawed to continue without help. She was completely aware that innocent people might die in her quest, but it was a necessary evil. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. She had a galaxy to save and logic dictated that individual worlds could be lost in those efforts.

Shivers rolled down her spine as new genetic material and perspective of a new culture flowed into the Cooperative. The world they now harvested saw them as gods and fought for the right to be one of the two percent that the gods allowed to ascend into heaven. The old ties of her new children were replaced by the love of her and their new siblings.

With a battle waging around her, she did not have time to savor the new genetic and cultural information that entered the Cooperative. She would have time for that later. Other priorities required her focus and her prize awaited her.

His fingers glided over the smooth plastic, looking up every now and again to the main view screen his ears desperately searched for background conversation. He couldn't help but wonder what the Vulcan and the Admiral had planned. A flash on his panel broke his thoughts and he adjusted the sensors and the ship glided back onto its course. Turning, he caught the eye of the Ops Officer who acknowledged him with a simple raised eyebrow. Glancing back to his control panel, he locked onto the flight path and navigated the area around him and logged the reports. Suddenly he had a sixth sense that someone was watching him. He couldn't turn round as he had to concentrate on a new set of co-ordinates that flashed under his fingers.

Joint Post by Jen, Wriath 1701 and Rico

Feeling awkward after her emotional display, Sevryll straightened and abruptly stepped away from Talbot, "forgive me, Admiral..." she smooth her disheveled robe and wiped the remnants of tears from her eyes. "The Cooperative will not wait for an answer regarding our decision... They do not require our response. I can sense Aria's thoughts and she intends to acquire the individuals she has requested, despite of our reply. Perhaps you should consider contacting the Alliance sooner rather than later."

"I agree.  Please, follow me," Talbot said as he strode with purpose through the door that lead to the bridge. As Sevryll fell in step behind him, she noticed an air of urgency and new energy in the Admiral.  Perhaps he too, now had a reason to live.  After a very brief and discrete conversation with his personal guard, Talbot moved to the communications station positioned on the second level of the bridge.

"Hail the NegVar and put it on screen," Talbot barked to the communication's officer as he squared his shoulders to face the viewer.  The crew that awaited their fate with buried anxiety, now shifted at their stations with eagerness.  They too sensed something different in their leader and the ones that had served with Talbot the longest, grinned inwardly.

The viewscreen flickered to life as Talbot's guard moved undetected to stand near Sevryll.  She was surprised by their stealth—it made her both uncomfortable and reassured to have them standing so close. One of the guards glared down two security officers. The soldiers at the Tactical station turned back to their work, but Sevryll could hear their thoughts... resentment simmered within them.

"Talbot!  Have you come to realize you need our help after all, RomuluSngan?"  KoraQ said, pleased with seeing what he thought was weakness in this Romulan PetaQ.

Admiral Talbot narrowed his eyes at the Klingon, "Not exactly.  But I do think we can help each other.  I have a Klingon aboard... a great warrior I believe.  Does the name "Worf" mean anything to you?"  Talbot inquired with wry anticipation.


KoraQ's grin dropped instantly, and his eyebrows drew together in a scowl.

"I'm not sure I understand what you are saying, Admiral.   Because it almost sounds as though you are holding our Regent captive."

"Let's just say Worf is our, guest currently.  If you would like him back, I suggest we work together against this Cooperative fleet of ships and this Aria person.  I don't think it's in the interest of the Empire or the Alliance to let them continue to take who and what they want...  Do we have an agreement, KoraQ?"  Inquired Talbot as he stared at the viewscreen.

KoraQ's fist clenched involuntarily.

"I have already agreed to aid Aria in clearing away the remaining Borg vessels in the area.  Until then, I won't make a move against her.  Unless,"  he added,  "She attacks one of my ships, or one of my allies."

With a sigh of resignation, KoraQ leaned forward, steepeling his hands beneath his chin.  For just a brief instant, the burly Klingon dropped his combative, aggressive demeanor.  With those shields dropped, it was a tired, battle-weary man who met the Romulan Admiral's stare.

"Let me be frank with you, Talbot.  A part of me actually admires your Empire.  For centuries, the Terrans managed to hold both the alpha and beta quadrants in an iron grip.  You took what you wanted, crushing all who stood in your way."

A sad, wistful smile flitted across KoraQ's face.  "Why, if it hadn't been for the sabotage of your late Emperor Spock, you might have even one day posed a threat to the Klingon Empire!  It is out of respect to what your Empire once was, and what it aspires to become again, that I will enter a temporary alliance with you."

Like quicksivler, KoraQ's demanor reverted to his normal surliness.  His shoulders stiffened, and his face contorted into a craggy scowl.  "A word of advice though, Admiral.  Don't drop your guard.  We may be allied for now, but the Galaxy isn't big enough for two alpha-predators.  Sooner or later, our governments will face off on the field of battle, and only one will survive."

KoraQ's scowl warped into a sinister smile.  "Perhaps we will meet on that glorious day.  But until then, we have some Borg to Kill.  Q'pah!"

Sevryll quirked an eyebrow at the Klingon's gift for uttering reluctant complements and idle threats in the same breath. She folded her hands before her in thought as she watched Talbot return KoraQ's smile with a grin of his own. The temporary coalition formed between the Alliance and Empire would be mutually beneficial, but it would not ensure victory. Success was preferred, but the ultimate goal was to prevent the Cooperative and the Borg from gaining a foothold within the Empire. Agreeing to Aria's terms would only postpone the Cooperative's conquest of the Quadrant—the pact made between the Alliance and the Empire was simply a vow to sacrifice their lives rather than surrender their independance.

She swept a strand of tousled hair from her eyes and pushed it behind a tapered ear.  In a silent request for privacy, the Vulcan eyed the escorts who stood too closely to her. Stepping back, they watched  from a safe distance as she warily strode to the Admiral's side on the upper bridge, "Perhaps we should speak with Quinn and the others regarding the Cooperative's list," she whispered. "They should know of the danger they face. Our agreement with the Alliance may not avert their procurement by the Queen. These individuals should be prepared to do what is necessary to prevent their capture during the subsequent battle with the Cooperative."

The Admiral kept his face on the viewscreen,  "I'm certain we shall speak more soon, KoraQ.  Close channel."  The image from the Klingon vessel blinked out  and he stepped down to his command chair and lowered himself into it. The lanky Romulan turned to glance back at Sevryll, "We shall speak later.  I would suggest you find a quiet place and rest.  A lot has happened....and right now I have work to do."  Talbot said nodding back to the Vulcan woman and giving her a reassuring grin.

Sevryll had no intention of resting now, but she inclined her head to Talbot and left the bridge with the guards following close behind. She would warn Quinn and Peters herself... with little telepathic effort she found the powerful telepath and told him to meet her in Doctor Peterson's quaters.

The communications officer pressed his finger on his panel and nodded to the Admiral to acknowledge the communication had been cut. He kept on eye on his sensors and monitored communication activity. He turned his head slightly so he could grasp the conversation between the Admiral and the Vulcan. Catching the words "place and rest" the officer assumed that all was not well with the Vulcan. This stirred mixed feelings inside him, could this be weakness? is she ill? The bridge doors swooshed open and he caught the robe of Sevryll disappear into the lift followed by her guards. Watching the doors close he turned and looked at the back of Talbot who stood upright with his hands behind him, he noticed though that the fingers opened and closed as if to reassure himself.

Quinn passed in and out of consciences, he recalled Peters telling him to stay there and that he would be right back. What seemed liked minutes or maybe hours, Rhys returned with a medkit and ran a tricorder over Nathan body.

Rhys' face fell. "You've been infected by the Borg", he said grimily.

Quinn looked up into Rhys' battered face, "I know" he said with a slight grimace remember his time aboard the Cube only days ago. Rhys continued, "There is nothing I can do to stop it. We can try and prolong the effects of them taking over your entire system, but I'm not a doctor, I can't do anymore than that."

Quinn smiled and placed a hand on Rhys' shoulder, "That will be plenty my friend, it's so good to see you."

Peters smiled and went back to the medkit and pulled out a small cylinder of red liquid, he inserted into the hypospray. Peters slowly held it up to Quinn's neck, you could hear the hiss as the liquid was injected into his carotid artery. Instantly Nathan began to feel better. He knew it wasn't a cure but he was hoping it would stay off his transformation until he could get back to his universe and they would be able to remove the Borg nanoprobes.

Quinn looked over at Rhys, "We need to get to a shuttle bay" Peters just sat there looking at Nathan. "Rhys come on we don't have time to waste" but Rhys did not move. "How is this possible?" he said slowly. "I saw you die, where have you been all this time?" Nathan began to crawl down the jefferies tube. "Come on.. I'll explain on the way.. we must move... now!!!" Both Quinn and Peters made their way down the jefferies tube heading toward shuttle bay 1 when suddenly Quinn was telepathically contacted. Nathan could hear concern in Servyll's thoughts, "Meet me in Doctor Peterson's quarters immediately."  Quinn stopped crawling and looked back to Peters. "Change of plan.. we need to get to Doctor Peterson's quarters." Rhys didn't ask any questions and said "I know where they are.. follow me." 

This is a strange turn of events, Reese thought, strange indeed. David Locke is dead and his Vulcan maiden has taken the throne. How does this change of events effect the future of our Universe?

Reese stood in the doorway of his small hunting ship, not sure if he should enter and leave the Tiberius for good. He was the one who had caused the events that pushed Sevryll to kill the Emperor. He might be the next person she would be killing. He thought of getting in his ship and running as far from the war as he could, but that would mean failing to finish his father's mission. He had worked for it since his father died at the hand's of a barbaric warlord. He wasn't going to let his father's dream shatter because of this. He closed the door to his ship and returned to the halls of the Tiberius.

The battle was furious, but painfully short.  The Collective fleet, already worn down by the Tiberius and her escorts, was mortally wounded by the intervention of Aria and her Borg Cooperative.  As they converged on the battlesite, the ships of the Klingon/Cardassian Armada found little to occupy them.

The few remaining cubes were quickly dispatched; multiple warships unleashed their disruptors and torpedoes on the limping Borg ships, leaving smoldering wreckage in their wake. 

At the head of the Klingon armada, the odd-shaped ship of Captain Vass circled lazily.  The cruiser wove through the debris field like a vulture searching for carrion.  On the bridge, Captain Vass frantically searched the viewscreen for more targets.  Caught up in the fever of battle, the Klingon silently chewed on his lower lip.  "Please tell me that we missed a ship or two," he hissed.  Frustrated at the lack of targets to vent his aggression on, the lanky Klingon leaned forward in his seat. 

"Negative, sir," replied the tactical officer.  "The only remaining ships belong to the Terrans."  The officer turned and spat on the deck in disgust.  "And of course, to our new Allies, the Cooperative." 

On the command armrest, Vass' hand hovered over the trigger to the softly thrumming Thalaron Generator.  Despite KoraQ's orders, Vass was determined to activate the device, cleansing the area of all threats to the Alliance. Perhaps the Admiral's judgement is slipping, he thought.  Either that, or he is being influenced by the leader of the Borg Cooperative.  It is my duty to end this now, before he dishonors himself further!

"Activate personal log," Vass said. 

As the 'ready' light winked on, the Captain began to fabricate his justification for his intended actions. 

"Due to a malfunction of our communication systems, Admiral KoraQ's last orders were somewhat garbled.  As per his last clear instructions, I am going to activate plan 'Klingon Fire'.  Once the device housed within this vessel is activated, a pulse of Thalaron energy will  irradiate this entire sector, purifying it of all traces of the Terran and Borg filth. " 

A maniacal grin lit Vass' face.  "What I do now, I do to ensure the survival of our Glorious Alliance.  Q'plah!"

As Vass opened the cover to the trigger, his attention was drawn by a disturbance at the rear of the bridge.  Glancing over his shoulder, he was greeted by the sight of a dark-skinned Terran slave, struggling with one of his guards.  A blow to the head by the butt of the guards' disruptor pistol sent the slave to his knees, where he knelt looking up at Vass. 

"I wont let you do it!" the slave yelled.  "Aria offers the Galaxy the promise of order and harmony.  I'll die before I let you threaten that dream!"

"Yes you will, slave," Vass replied.  "Someone kill this Terran dog and throw his corpse off my ship!"

The Ops officer, hovered his finger over the internal sensor section of his panel. He had turned it off around an hour ago now and had been able to keep his actions quiet. He'd got nervous when he had heard the voice of the interrogator come through the communications system demanding to know why the sensors were off line.  It was only a bit of luck that no one had noticed what D'Callan was saying because of the huge explosion on one of the Borg cubes had caused everyone to concentrate on the view screen. He couldn't keep the sensors off line any longer, it was clear that changes had happened and that maybe his involvement had helped. He pressed six lights quickly and a small flash came up and then off again. He muted his panel so not alert anyone and then the internal sensor panel began churning out information. He shot back in slight panic as there was no way he could hide this. He looked over at the Com officer but he was too busy trying to spread the bandwidths of the other ships, then at the other officers but no one noticed. He turned back and watched as the lights slowly disappeared. Behind him Admiral Talbot watched out of the corner of his eye, and then drew his eyes back to the view screen.

Onboard the NegVar, an officer manning the tactical station turned to Captain K'Lara, his eyes wide with alarm.  "Captain; we are reading a massive energy build-up in one of our ships!  It almost looks like the beginnings of a warp core detonation."

K'Lara gazed nonchalantly at the officer.  "Which ship?" 

"It is the vessel commanded by Captain Vass," the officer replied.

KoraQ's grip tightened on his armrest.  "Open a channel," he said. 

After repeatedly tapping at his control interface, the tactical officer slowly shook his head.  "No response to our hails, Admiral."

With mounting anxiety, KoraQ turned to face the main viewscreen.  The Thalaron Generator. 

It appeared as though the fanatical Vass was determined to go out in a blaze of glory, and take the entire fleet with him.  KoraQ had no problem with the officer's dedication, but he did take issue with his apparent disregard for the chain of command.  KoraQ grimly shook his head.  No one was dying until He gave the word.

"Lock disruptors on Vass' ship, then hail the Tiberius.  They have a guest on board who is probably eager to return home."

Aria moved fluidly around the center of her command center and processed the information that flowed through her. It was time for her to continue her objectives. She quietly closed her eyes and reached out to her followers and commanded them to hold fire until fired upon. To her secret agents, she informed them to do what was necessary to protect the Cooperative.

With the commands out of the way, she turned her attention towards the slowly destabilizing rift. Tapping to her Nacene legacy, Aria focus on bending subspace and strengthening it until she completed her objectives. She needed several things from the other side of the rift and there was nothing that she would allow to get in her way.

"Begin to acquire transporter locks on all non-expendable covert agents and targets." Aria said curtly. "Establish transporter relay to targeted vessel beyond the rift."

She then turned her attention back to the primary view screen and opened a channel to all ships, audio only.

"Attention all ships with in this system. The Borg are now defeated. There has been enough blood shed this day. It does not need to continue. I ask that we discuss how to prevent this day from being marred by an unnecessary war. You have achieved a great victory this day, but it would be foolish and fatal for war to continue. The Cooperative is not your enemy. We are your legacy. We are your children, siblings, parents, and lovers. We are all around you and part of you. The universe is changing and we are the instruments of that change. We invite you to join us or leave in peace."

Without a word she terminated her transmission and ordered her agents to be prepared. The fear of change would drive some of her enemies to move against her children and that would force her to make examples of them.

Soon it will be time to defend the hive and recover Quinn, she told her children and borrowed the words of one of the many races that had been incorporated into her Cooperative. Victory is life.

Several lights flashed in front of his panel and the comm officer concentrated, he turned and caught the Admirals eye and tapped his ear. Admiral Talbot turned back to the view screen.

"Lets hear it then".

The sound echoed around the bridge.

"Attention all ships with in this system. The Borg are now defeated. There has been enough blood shed this day. It does not need to continue. I ask that we discuss how to prevent this day from being marred by an unnecessary war. You have achieved a great victory this day, but it would be foolish and fatal for war to continue. The Cooperative is not your enemy. We are your legacy. We are your children, siblings, parents, and lovers. We are all around you and part of you. The universe is changing and we are the instruments of that change. We invite you to join us or leave in peace."

The voice finished abruptly and the bridge officers all looked at each other and then at the Admiral who stood tall and proud. He took a deep breath of the stale air and turned to the comm officer who continued to monitor any replies coming from the other ships. He looked up at the Admiral and shook his head and then cut the band search.

His eyes had gone dark all over the ship. All the cameras Locke had installed through out the Tiberius no long were open to him. He was loosing his advantages. Now that Locke was gone, all Reese's affiliations with the Empire were gone as well. He was no longer in the know. He had no connection aboard this ship, that is the way Locke had planned it. If Reese was to be the best henchman he would have no friends outside of Locke to stop him from doing his job. Reese wasn't entirely sure what to do. He was so used to having a knowledge of everything that happened abroad the ship that this felt strange to him. He still had his self installed audio taps, but they were few and he knew that things were beginning to grow far more challenging for him the longer he remained aboard. His plan incase the Empire was ever killed was to join the new Empire as their henchmen, if that wasn't possible run. He wasn't sure how Sevryll would respond to him, he'd watched her rid the ship of Locke and knew with her in a position of power now she could easily rid the ship of his simple henchmen as well. He proceeded without the the knowledge he very much need to understand this new situation. His newly developing plan would have to be performed without the use of spy cameras. "If Sevryll planned to take the throne, I planned to dethrone our new Empress." Reese thought.

Joint post by Jen and Startrekfanatic5

Sevryll could not feel doctor Peterson's presence and because of this, she feared the worse for her first ally and only friend. As she wandered about his empty quarters, waiting for Quinn to arrive, she studied the limited mementos the doctor kept within his sparse cabin. Most of the items she examined were images of Casey and his wife.  Myella had suffered and died by Joseph D'Callan's hands and for years Casey Peterson bore the agony of  her loss. His grief was a salty emotion that permeated Sevryll's psychic perception of him.  That zest was missing, and the intuitive flavor of the ship was now bland. The Vulcan lifted a holoimage and stared down at the once happy couple then turned as she percieved Nathan Quinn and Rhys Peters slipping into the room.

Quinn instinctually approached the Vulcan, ready to grasp her shoulders in affection and relief. He knew that as a touch telepath his Sevryll did not encourage physical contact from anyone other than her relatives, but he did not care for after all they had been through, he considered her apart of his own family.  As Nathan stepped quickly toward her mirror counterpart, the woman drew back, unsure of his intensions. It was then he remembered that she was not the Vulcan he knew as Commander Sevryll. He stopped in his tracks, regarded the resemblance a moment and slowly extended his hand, "I'm Captain Nathan Quinn"...

The former mistress to the Emperor had rejected her Vulcan logic and with it, the traditions of her people. She was more than a mere touch telepath, and had no reservations with regards to the traditional Terran greeting.  She accepted his hand and inclined her head, "I am Sevryll." The Vulcan glanced to Rhys then back to Nathan and withdrew her hand, "Emperor Locke is no more...the Admiral and I have taken temporary control of the Empire."

"Good, then we can leave..." said Rhys. The smile that stretched his split lip should have been painful, but the relief he felt at the prospect of freedom numbed the pain. Sevryll shook her head slowly and pitched her gaze downward before slowly meeting Rhys's eyes, "No. The Cooperative has demanded a number of individuals in exchange for safe passage. Your names were on the Queen's list."

"And you're going to hand us over?!"  The smile had vanished from Rhys's face and his voice rose in anger.

Quinn lifted his hand to quiet his friend. He had heard Sevryll's thoughts, and knew that the opposite was true. "No, she couldn't do that...despite the danger, she and Talbot decided against it." He stared a moment into her dark eyes, listening to voices that Rhys could not hear. The quiet stretched a while longer before he spoke again, "You're expecting twins." He smiled, "a boy and a girl..." a silent exchange between the two followed, before she quietly added, "I've always liked those names."

Sevryll raised a brow then quietly turned and walked to a dark viewport. From where she stood she could see the Cooperative and Alliance ships moving amongst the Borg debris. After some time she glanced over her shoulder at Peters and Quinn, "they will come for you, Captain...and there will be little I can do to stop them."

Joint Post by Sheppard and HawkeyeMeds


The three crewmen huddled together in deep conversation in the lowest deck aboard the Tiberius.

"Have you not heard the rumours? I tell you something... I'm not standing for this anymore"

"What are you on about Michael? You've heard nothing."

"Are you deaf? Have you not heard about what's going on? Have you not heard about our fate?"

They all looked around as a senior officer walked past them. he ignored them, they were of no consequence to his duties. The group huddled back together and the woman who had been silent throughout the men's discussion, pitched in

"Will you two belt up. All you have heard is Chinese whispers. Where are the facts?"

Michael turned to Lorna.

"I have heard from one of the officers. They say the Emperor's Vulcan Mistress has taken over... a non terran in charge of this ship. I'm not working under her, she'll bring death to us all!!"

Lorna laughed, "You're paranoid. The Emperor is still in charge. Don't you think we'd have known if something that important had happened?"

"Lorna, Michael. Look over there..."

In the distance another crewman ran towards them. Once in front of them, he dropped his hands onto his knees to catch his breath, "have.....you......heard?"

The three looked at each other and Jones spoke first. "What Neekan? What have you heard?".

His breathing slowed down and the crewman slowly began to speak, "I've been up near the brig. I had some tech work to do. I saw the Vulcan, she was carrying the Emperor. I followed her and it looks like she transported him to the Borg, or the Klingons. She killed him!"

Michael's voice rose higher than before."I told you, I told you she was a bad one. She's taken charge of this ship!"

The others grew restless and this caused other crewmen to gather round and listen to what Neekan had to say.

"They are on the bridge now!"

The crowd grew and a voice shouted out.

"D'Callan will never allow a non-terran to take over, he'll kill her!"

Neekan raised his hand up to calm the shouts. "The Interrogator is missing, along with that bastard Margon. They have control of us, they have control of the ship, damn it they have the control of the Empire!"

The crowd began shouting . They had all signed up to fight for the Empire. From the back of the crowd stood a man smiling. He was watching the crowd grow restless. He listened as the man called Michael was lifted upon his friends shoulders.

"We cannot stand for this, we cannot let this happen. I'll be damned if a Vulcan and a Romulan will rule me. WHO'S WITH ME?"

The crowd burst into life.

"ARE YOU WITH ME?"

The shouts echoed up. A phaser blast past Michael's over confident head silencing the crowd. Everyone turned around to see who fired the shot. In the back of the room stood the former Emporer's henchmen. His black armor shined in the lights, like a hero from beyond.

"You don't even have a clue what is really going on here, do you Michael Stanway?"

Michael looked around for  support from his previously cheering audience, but everyone stood in shock and surprise to see David Reese making his presence known. He usually spent his time avoiding the public eye.

"I do." A nervous tone was evident in Michael's voice, "The Emperors dead. We must avenge him." He shouted, looking for support.

"No, we must make sure this Empire doesn't crumble, due to his death. We must not let people who would bring an end to the Empire, rule it."

"You're talking mutiny aren't you? You want to lead a mutiny!"

Before Reese could get another word in the crowd began to shout his name. One by one each began to cheer. Soon the whole room was in support of the once simple henchmen. He was surprised by the instant support, proof of how fragmented the ship had become since the Emperor's fall. He wasn't looking for command, he came looking for allies to aid him, but if this is what it takes he was willing to do it. He composed himself, like a knight in his shining black armor he hid his shock from his people.

"This isn't the way I had planned it," Reese thought, "but it will do."

The spy opened the hatch from the Jeffries tube and slipped out. Only two more scent packets to place, she thought, as she adjusted the flowing vedek's robes that had been bunched around her middle to allow for the crawling that the cramped space mandated. She smiled as she thought of the sanitary facilities actually being improved by her adjustments. She listened to the voices in her mind. "Good. Everyone poops. Therefore, everyone has the same vulnerability."

Silently she passed through a door and stood in starlight from the window.  She then bent to touch the sleeping human on the floor. "Captain! Your time has come to shine. You must go to the bridge now."

He awoke immediately and kissed his fingers before caressing the hem of her robe. While it was well known that she slept in his bed, only they knew she did not share it.

Sleeping in his Alliance uniform, he was ready to appear on the bridge. She followed him there, chin high. No one noticed the tiny gill slits insinuated into the bajoran nose-ridges.


The crew worked in near-perfect unison throughout the fight. The captain hardly had to speak to coordinate their movements. After the battle, as the crew rejoiced in the Alliance victory, she activated the scent packets spread throughout the ship's facilities. The doors opened and the smells of tea, flowers, chocolate, and mother's milk flowed into the air. The crew had been patiently, subtly trained to react in specific ways to the scents the spy produced. While they were assuredly unaware of such training, they were conditioned to react. So it was with calm loyalty that, as one, they joined with the Cooperative.

Spring Farmer raised her arms and, using the seductive voice bestowed on her by the Cooperative, stated the standard welcome.  "Your presence here brings us joy as we embrace our new friends. Your solitary days of lonely wandering are over. Lower your shields and experience the ecstasy of the Cooperative. From this day forward, your life will be one of unity and dedication. Relax and be welcome."

"I'm turning myself over," said Quinn as the ruminants of a dim smile faded from his expression.

"What?!  You can't be serious!" Shouted Rhys.

"It's the only option," replied Nathan.

"No! It's not! We can fight!"

Concerned that others would overhear their conversation, the Vulcan spoke up. "Please refrain from shouting, " she said in a cool, authoritative tone.

Rhys fired a belligerent glower at Sevryll and lowered his voice to a quiet growl, "I don't work for you anymore and I don't recognize your position as 'Interim Empress' or... whatever you're calling it."

The svelte woman turned her head slowly to meet Peters' fierce glare, "I have no title nor I do not desire one." She stepped away from the viewport and moved toward Quinn,   "You do not understand what you are sacrificing, Captain. The Borg Collective is nothing more than a group of disorganized thugs compared to the methodical nature of the Cooperative.  They thrive on the genetic contributions from beings such as yourself.  The power Aria would gain through the acquisition of your abilities, would make her inexorable."

The name struck Nathan like a heavy fisted blow, "Aria? Aria heads the Cooperative?"

"Yes," replied Sevryll, intrigued by his apparent familiarity with the Cooperative Queen.

"In my universe, she was...I mean, she is your daughter...your cloned daughter. Commander Sevryll's first daughter was lost to a shift in the  timeline, but before she vanished her katra was saved and later given to a binary clone. Perhaps we could use your relation to Aria to our advantage," he mused.

Rhys Peters frowned and silently mouthed the word 'WHAT', in frustration and shock. He was baffled by what he heard, but refrained from interrupting. He circled them slowly as they spoke—listening intensely for anything that would help him piece together the puzzle of Nathan Quinn.

Sevryll quirked an eyebrow at Quinn's statement, "I have no children other than the ones I carry, Captain. There is an obvious physical resemblance between myself and Aria, yet the reason for that similarity has remained a mystery to me. I have sensed her favor for me. Though there is no relationship between us, she views me as a parent. I attempted to use this to bargain for the Tiberius...yet only the mention of her 'siblings' evoked emotion and altered her decision. I am dispensable, but she holds my unborn children in high regard. "

Quinn rubbed his chin in thought. Could the Cooperative Queen be a clone in this universe as well? A thought surfaced in his mind,"Do you know an Aeric James?  In my universe he was Aria's father. Later, his DNA was used to create the binary clone."

Sevryll replied emphatically, "No."

Rhys glanced from Nathan to Sevryll in confusion, "Who cares who the Queen's mum and dad are?! Let's get off this ship before she shows up to induct us both into her cultish family!"

Quinn crossed his arms, "discovering Aria's origin could be the key to our survival, Rhys." And with that he stretched his powerful mind in search of the mysterious queen.

JOINT POST BY JEN, SHEPPARD & HAWKEYEMEDS

David Reese strode down the metal steps to stand before his supporters. The mob went silent upon his approach, eagerly awaiting his great words.

Michael approached him, "What now?"

Reese met the crewman's gaze. "A coup," he replied. The henchman could see these people were the lowest of the low— mistreated and uncared for. Now they had someone to believe in, someone who gave them the respect they deserved and he would lead them into a new Empire. This was what his father would have wanted for his son... power and the devotion of loyal followers.

"Emperor Locke once breathed new life into our dead Empire, but he is now gone...murdered by aliens.  Our new leaders will bring ruin to what Locke worked so hard to revive! Our enemies are waiting to deliver the final blow...do you believe these traitors will defend your home world?! "

The crowd was chanting,  "NO!!! Down with Talbot! Down with Sevryll!"

"This ship is commanded by non-Terrans! NONE are trustworthy! You know what you must do! RID THIS SHIP of ALL who oppose us! Kill ANYONE who gets in your way! We take this vessel and the Empire or die trying!"

The mob roared.

"The new Terran Empire begins here!" He shouted over the angry din.

Reese fell silent, allowing the mob's moment of rapture to build into a rabid frenzy. He then turned back to Michael and Lorna, "the time has now come. Michael you know your mission...take engineering at all costs. Lorna get to the bridge... eliminate Talbot and Zremm and take command of the ship. Once we control the Emperor's Flagship...the fleet and the Empire will be ours!"

The Emperor's henchman turned to go, "Where are you going?" Michael inquired.

"I have a debt to repay..."

Michael and Lorna gathered their teams and departed the room, leaving five of the strongest and most dangerous crewmen behind. These were the men Reese hand picked to help him take out Talbot's guards—the soldiers who stood watch over Sevryll.

They took their positions around him as he stepped out of the room and strode down the corridor for turbolift.

"Computer, do I have access to the internal sensors?"

"Access to the internal sensor information is granted to David Reese."

The henchman smiled, his followers had contacts on the bridge, who
regained his access to ship-wide security. He was very please to be back
in 'the know'.

"Computer, locate the Mistress Sevryll."

"Sevryll is in Doctor Peterson's quarters."

"How many people are in the room?"

"Two... Rhys Peters and an unknown non-Terran."

"What about outside the room?"

"There are two: John Prie..."

"That's all I need to know." He didn't care who the guards were. Two men weren't going to be a problem for Reese and his team. He knew he could complete his task with no trouble. He only hoped the others would as well. He led his team into a turbolift and set off to Peterson's quarters.

As the Thalaron generator buried deep within its engineering room neared critical mass, Vass' ship altered its course.  Skirting the gravity-well of the nearby planet Teross, the Klingon ship swung around and accelerated towards the command vessel of the Borg Cooperative's fleet.

In the corridor leading away from the ship's bridge, Two Klingon guards struggled with a disheveled Terran slave.  While he tried to present a detached, stoic mien, the slave couldn't help but flinch as a Klingon guard's fist smashed into his gut.  As the man doubled over, a second guard trapped his neck in the crook of his arm, pinning his head in place with a vice-like grip. 

The overwhelming stench of the warrior's sweat-stained leathers and body odor, combined with the fumes issuing from his decaying, yellow-toothed mouth, nearly served to knock the slave into submission.   A series of brutal kicks to his ribs finished the job.  A final kick yielded a sickening, muffled crack, followed by a knifing jolt of biting agony.  The slave's attempt to cradle his aching side was interrupted as the two guards violently grasped his arms, dragging him backwards down the corridor.   His bare heels bounced painfully on the cold steel deck plating, and as he gazed up at the smoke-stained ceiling panels rushing past, his vision teetered on the edge of darkness. 

"Tugh Ha'!  HIchDal wIghoStaH!" 

The slave frowned in confusion.  The words barely registered.  Despite his having grown up a slave of the Klingons, the pain of his shattered rib was clouding his thoughts. The man had to struggle to piece together the guard's meaning.

'wIghoStaH'.   'We are approaching'.

Approaching what? 

'HichDal'. The word had something to do with ship functions..

The slave shook his head in an effort to clear it.  He had the feeling that he was missing something important, but the nagging urge to react was overshadowed by the temptation to slip away into the pain-free realm of unconsciousness.

And then it hit him.

'HichDal' meant 'Airlock'.  They really intended to space him!

Fear over his rapidly approaching demise flooded the slave with a surge of adrenaline.  Adrenaline, and a flood of microscopic Borg gifts bestowed on him by Aria. 

A feeling of strength and well being washed over the slave, and as his broken ribs began to knit back together, he gave an eerie cackle.

"This PetaQ has finally lost his mind," one of the guards remarked. 

His lip curled into a cruel sneer.  "That's right, keep laughing, K'Tan.  You're about to go for a nice little trip outside to stretch your legs, maybe get a little fresh air."

As the trio drew towards the portal leading to the airlock, K'Tan began to convulse.  The guards tightened their grip on him, and were alarmed to see his skin writhing; it was as though his muscles had taken on a life of their own and were struggling to break free of their fleshy prison.

"Blessed are the gifts of the cooperative," The slave muttered with a smile.

As the guards began to shout in alarm, K'Tan halted their progress, standing upright and lifting each Klingon free of the deck.  He then pivoted at the waist, smashing both warriors face-first into the metal wall of the corridor.  As the two guards slid to the floor in an unconscious heap, K'Tan turned and took off at a sprint, his bare feet slapping rhythmically on the steel deck plating. 

As he drew near the bridge, his smile grew into an insane-looking grin of joy. 

Michael's Team.

Running through the corridors Michael shouted at his team, he had been lucky so far and had not been hindered by any resistance to their mutiny.

From behind he heard a cry and then a splash of sparks. Turning he saw two of his team fall, phaser burns spread across their chests.

"HALT, YOU WILL LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS"

Michael pushed a crewman in front of him and then fired from over his shoulder. His phaser fire hit the security guard in the face. The crewman in front of dropped to his knees and double tapped his phaser hitting the second guard perfectly. Michael slapped him n the shoulder.

"Excellent shooting"

The crewman looked up and simply shrugged.

Standing near to the raised entrance walkway to main engineering he held his hand up.

"Lads, this is it. Jones. What do you see?"

Jones lent out and peered around the corner, two guards stood to attention but the main doors to engineering were open allowing several crewmen to walk in and out carrying various panels. Jones concentrated on a new team that walked out, they carried a large box and headed straight towards them.

"Michael, a team are heading our way carrying a service box, this is our chance"

Michael nodded and they slipped into the shadows to await the engineering team. As they turned the corner they waited a few seconds before pouncing out and silently knocking the men unconscious. A few minutes later clothes had been exchanged and one of the men hid in the service box.

This is comical thought Michael as they casually walked past the security guards at the main entrance. The recent battle had hit engineering very hard and people worked hard to get the damage fixed and thus no one had noticed the strangers. Michael hit the top of the box and the lid flew open and out jumped one of the mutineers. Firing his phaser he hit one of the passing engineers knocking him out. The sound of the blast signaled the other men who ran around the corner and immediately took out the surprised security officers. Michael ran to his left while Jones went to the right and and they took command of engineering.

Walking to the main engineering control panel Micheal looked at the flashing lights and various images that flickered on screen. This meant nothing to him and he did not care. His job was to take out engineering, and engineering was now in his charge.

Lorna's Team

Leaving Michael and the henchman Reese had worried her, she had only just been in discussions about a mutiny and now she was in charge of a rag tag team heading to the main bridge to murder the Admiral. Doubt crept in her mind and she began to slow down and then to a stop. She stood and looked back at her team who in turn began to look around, she dipped her head slightly and as she went to speak a phaser blast hit her friend Neekan in the neck killing him instantly.
Lorna cried out and this suddenly fired up her team, they all shouted and jumped over their fallen comrade. Lorna spun round and ran at the laughing security, the taller of the two went to swipe her but she ducked and punched him straight in the groin and as he fell she punched his neck cracking his larynx. The second guard went to shoot her but he was jumped upon by a frenzied crowd who ripped at his clothes and began to tear at him.

Lorna looked at the guards body as he was thrown into the air, she was shocked that she found herself enjoying the spectacle.

"MOVE ON!!!!" she shouted.

The torn body of the guard lay still and motionless as the second mutiny unit headed to the main bridge turbo lift. Tears dropped down her cheeks as she ran, her friend had just been murdered, her life had been turned upside down and now the Empire that she knew was being taken over by aliens. She punched the turbo lift door and spun round.

"This is it, ARE YOU WITH ME?"

The team screamed obedience and the turbo lift door opened and they calmly walked in. Standing in the middle of the crowd her phaser held to her cheek she rubbed the metal against her skin and closed her eyes, she could feel the pulse of the turbo lift as it headed upwards, her heart began to beat, faster and faster and faster. The adrenalin pumped through her veins and beads of sweat began to develop on her brow. She began to bounce a little on the balls of her feet and opening her eyes she glared at the door and watched,, as it drifted open.

Joint Post by Jen, Just X, and Startrekfanatic5

The art of persuasion was one of Aria's many talents. Depending on Quinn's mindset, her suggestive remarks had the potential of enticing him to do any number of things. The Captain was the more powerful telepath, but Aria was cunning and seductive making her all the more dangerous.

Reaching out to the Cooperative queen was a risky venture and the stakes were high...  too high for Sevryll. It would be better to end his life and destroy the body, than permit him to fall into the Cooperative's hands. But she couldn't bring herself to kill the Captain. She didn't know Quinn, but she sensed qualities within the newcomer that intrigued her, and those qualities encouraged her trust. 

Aria severed the operative's link to the hive after the Vulcan rejected her Queen. Sevryll no longer felt the comfort of the Cooperative's order, but the door was left open and the agent knew her way home.  She glanced to Quinn—his eyes were closed and his mind was focused.

Nathan began to twitch as he struggled against the current of unified Cooperative minds. Sevryll recognized his involuntary movements as a side effect of the hive link. Sevryll's involvement had the potential to increase Quinn's chances of success. She quickly determined to reinforce Quinn's effort. She would monitor the exchange between the two and if necessary, break the connection between them to prevent Aria from negatively influencing him.

The Vulcan stepped closer and extended her hands toward the stranger known as Nathanial Quinn. Rhys began to object, but ceased his complaints when he noticed Nathan's expression relax at her touch. The pressure of her fingertips upon his temple, cheekbone and chin helped to clear the torrent of Cooperative voices and center his mind...it wasn't long before he found the one individual he sought.

Billions of voices danced in her mind, but she could still feel Quinn's attempt at contact. Aria felt the impression of the stranger as his thoughts reached out to her, aided by the one she allowed to go free. She smiled softly to herself. There was more than enough room in her thoughts for this visitor.

Aria enjoyed the feel of his mind—the strength of it and the nobility of the man. He had so many things that she desired and she needed to satisfy those cravings. Greetings Nathanial., the queen of the Cooperative thought. We have spent considerable energy searching for you and keeping your infection at bay. It is now time for you to come to me. Nathan, you must be cured.

Her voice produced a blinding euphoria that was so intense, the sensation caused Nathan to shiver...this was how her influence was initiated. Sevryll sensed the manipulation and moved her consciousness between Aria and Quinn to filter the affect, reducing the euphoria to a mild serenity.

He quickly regained his wits and addressed the queen, "I know you, Aria James. You exist in my universe as well. Where I am from, your mother and father serve aboard my ship. The people I know as your parents would not be happy with what you have done here. I wonder, where are your parents in this reality? Do they know what you have become or have they been reduced to drones."

We do not reduce anyone...we elevate them. Aria said softly I am not from this reality either. If you know of my father, then you know of the man that sired me. He and I are unique—there are no other versions of us in the multiverse. Which begs the question... How do you think that you know me?

Quinn was taken back by her revelation. He could feel that she was telling the truth—she was in fact the daughter of his first and second officers. Despite Sevryll's attempt to aid Quinn, Aria pressed past the Vulcan and probed his mind for answers. The weight of the Cooperative poured behind her probe and into the door that he opened to them. She needed to know what he knew. They were many and he was only one. Quinn was a powerful man, but he was just a stone in the stream. He was simply a tree in the storm. He would bend or he would break.

Aria felt his resistance, stronger than she anticipated, and knew that to push further would damage him. She did not want him damaged and he held his secrets too closely for her to simply take them. His resistance only proved to her that he was worthy of her attention. Trillions of calculations raced through her mind and she knew exactly what she needed to do.

"You have a clone." Quinn said as the mind of the Cooperative battered his defenses. The moment she heard the explanation, Quinn felt the probe cease. It was as if the eye of the hurricane had swiftly passed over him.

The voice that echoed in the Captain's mind sounded grieved by the knowledge.  Nathan pushed back seeking the key to her reaction and swiftly discovered it. She had once believed that her parents  were the ones lost, but in fact it was she who had vanished from their lives... only to be replaced.

Nathan sensed fragments of her grief and confusion. She wondered if she had been replaced. She hoped that she had been missed. He didn't know much regarding the circumstances that stole her away from the universe he knew, but he felt it necessary to share the facts he was given regarding the binary clone's creation.

"You father did mourn for you, and your mother would have...had she had known you. What you may not understand is that Sevryll's history was altered by the time shift—she did not meet your father until recently and because of this you were never conceived. Aeric's Nacine heritage allowed him to feel the shift coming and before you vanished completely, your katra was transferred to him. It was preserved within the Aurora's computer until recently. When he became a member of my crew last year, the computer's holographic representation collected samples of DNA from your parents without their knowledge, and recreated your body to hold your katra."

I know exactly how he came to acquire my katra Nathan, but what he did with it concerns me greatly. Aria projected with icy calm. What would have been intense emotions had been replaced with cool logic. I must meet with my parents and see this ... sibling of mine. I will transport you to my vessel. You can accompany me for my visit.

It was not a question. Aria was going to see her father and Quinn would be joining her. She was his only way back to his universe and he would have to meet with her personally for that to take place. Given the newly received information, she adapted her plans and reached out to one of her agents within the fleet. She would bring an escort with her when she traveled to the other universe. She had a very specific agent in mind for this mission. After her orders were received she turned her attention back to Nathan and his allies.

She had no time to debate with him. Her limited Nacene heritage could not keep the rift stable indefinitely. She was also more than eager to meet this Captain from her birth universe.

Prepare for transport once transporter lock is established. She informed him as the Cooperative worked to get past the distortion of of the rift.

The door of the turbolift drifted open and Lorna's adrenalin took the better of her and she raced out screaming. Behind her the turbo lift door slammed shut catching one member of her teams arm, she turned to see the arm drift up the outside of the turbo lift door, it stuck for a moment at the top, a scream bellowed out and then the arm shredded and became disembodied from the owner. She backed away as the lost limb slipped down the smooth metal and splattered on the floor. Her stomach convulsed and she bent over to be sick.

"You'd better clean that up young lady"

Lorna spun round her eyes bulged with fright as the man came out of the shadows.

The odd-shaped, Thalaron-armed vessel arrowed towards the lead Borg ship. On the bridge, the air was a thick soup of apprehension and anticipation.

As Aria's ship grew larger in the forward viewscreen, Captain Vass gripped his armrests.  The red glow of the bridge lights pulsed on and off around him, in sync with the heart-like throbbing of the ship's thalaron generator.   

"Keep your eyes open, my comrades!" he yelled.  "We are but moments away from the glory of Sto-Vo-Kor!"

As the kamikaze vessel sped towards the Borg ship, an insistent hammering echoed from the sealed bridge door.  Vass glanced back at the door, which vibrated with each thundering blow.  As he looked on in disbelief, a series of bulges appeared on the thick slab of steel, and sparks sputtered from the control panel beside it.

"Guards!" Vass barked.  He gestured towards the buckling bridge door.  "Explain this!"

A warrior sprung towards the door as a booming blow shook it once more. As he neared the portal, there was the rending shriek of tortured steel; the door popped free of it's brace and topled inward.  The warrior tried to dodge the falling weight, but to no avail; the door crashed down, pinning his legs to the grated deck. 

The smoke from the door's ruined control circuits gradually dispersed; the light form the corridor beyond streamed into the darkened bridge.  Standing in the doorway was the silhouette of a stoop shouldered, shaggy haired Terran.

Chest heaving from exertion, K'Tan strode into the bridge.  One foot came down hard on the fallen door, eliciting a decidedly un warrior-like squeal from the guard trapped beneath.  K'Tan's gaze flitted to the scene playing out on the main viewscreen, a faint, unnatural green glow shining from his eyes.

"You will alter your course now, Captain, or I will alter it for you."

Around the bridge, several disruptors were smoothly unholstered and leveled at the ragged Terran. 

They fired almost in unison, filling the bridge with a nova-bright glare...

On the bridge of the NegVar, all eyes were glued to the main viewscreen. Admiral KoraQ stood next to captain K'Lara's chair, his hand unconsciously messaging her shoulder as they watched the scene unfold. 

On the screen, Vass' ship seemed to pick up speed as it headed towards the lead Borg vessel. 

Behind the two warships, the fertile, blue and white orb of the planet Teross spun lazily, dominating the lower half of the viewscreen.  The unspoiled world's tranquil beauty starkly contrasted the scene of destruction that seemed all but imminent.

KoraQ grimaced. 

While he welcomed the destruction of the Borg, he feared the aftermath of the Thalaron detonation.   The Borg ship didn't come close to having enough mass to contain the Thalaron generator's chain reaction.  Without a readily available reaction mass, the energy wave would race hungrily outward, obliterating the assembled Alliance and Terran ships alike. There was only one hope of escaping annihilation.  He would have to gamble on taking out Vass' ship before the generator reached critical mass.

"Lock disruptors, and put that crazy petaQ down!" KoraQ yelled, spittle flying. 

A Cardassian officer looked up from an adjacent work station.  "Excuse me, sir.  The transporter room reports that Regent Worf has arrived from the Terran ship.  He is on his way to the bridge."

"Excellent," KoraQ said.  In a moment of private guilt, he glanced at his errant hand, and hastily removed it from K'Lara's shoulder.

Less than a heartbeat later, the bridge doorway scraped open, revealing the towering, scowling visage of the Regent.  As Worf walked in, KoraQ's face flushed.  He took two steps away from K'Lara's chair.

An inscrutable expression crossed Worf's face as he paused to regard the pair; he then sighed, and strode confidently to the center of the bridge.  K'Lara sprang from her chair and stood at attention, her fist crossing her chest to strike her armor in salute.  "Your presence honors us, Regent!" 

She gestured towards the command seat, an eyebrow arched inquisitively. 

A grim smile split Worf's face.  "Please take your seat, Captain." 

Worf's gaze  briefly stabbed KoraQ before refocusing on K'Lara.  "I wouldn't want to deprive my son's future Mate of her moment of glory and honor.  After all, without honor, we are nothing more than animals.  Isn't that right, Admiral KoraQ?"

KoraQ's blush deepened.  "Yes, Regent," he replied.  KoraQ gestured towards the viewscreen.  "We were about to.."

"Yes, I know," Worf interrupted.  "I've been monitoring the situation, and it appears to be spinning out of control.  Open a channel to Captain Vass' ship."

Worf turned a fierce glare at KoraQ.  "Now."

At the urging of the Regent, the NegVar picked up speed, steadily closing the distance between itself and Captain Vass' ship.

A communications officer worked feverishly at his console, trying to hail the kamikaze vessel.  His efforts were finally rewarded, and the NegVar's viewscreen switched to an image of Vass' bridge. 

It was immediately evident that something was wrong.  Agitated, excited shouts filled the bridge of Vass' ship, and the  air appeared to be suffused with smoke.  Vass stood at an awkward angle, cradling an evidently broken arm.  Several of his officers stood in a huddle, pointing disruptors down at a smoking, charred shape at the captain's feet.  Vass glanced up from the body into the viewscreen, and his jaw dropped as he did a double take.

"Regent Worf!  We feared that you were killed by the Terrans!"

Worf chuckled mirthlessly.  "Killed?  Come now Captain; do you truly have such a low opinion of me?"

Worf glanced from Vass' damaged arm to the smoldering body at his feet.  "It looks like you've been busy."

Vass grinned his best ingratiating smile.  "Yes, sir.  This crazy Terran PetaQ assaulted me and tried to commandeer the ship."  He gave the smoking body an absentminded kick.   "He must be doped up on stimulants.  The HadibaH soaked up at least 20 disruptor blasts before he finally stayed down!"

Worf gave an incredulous, non-committal  chuckle.  "Yes; of course he did."

The Regent's expression turned suddenly stern.  "But enough of your tales of adventure.  You are to deactivate the Thalaron Generator immediately, and move your vessel to the rear of the fleet."

Vass face turned ashen.  "I-I'm afraid that that won't be possible, my Lord.  The generator has gone beyond the stopping point.  Any attempt to shut it down now will result in a premature detonation."

The Regent paused a beat, then turned and spat on the deck in disgust.  "You reckless idiot!"

Worf stormed up to the viewscreen, and the televised image of Vass shrunk back as though he feared the Regent would step through the screen to throttle him. 

Worf sneered at the cowardly flinch. 

"I almost wish the Terran had succeeded in taking over your ship!" 

He pointed at Vass, his finger trembling with rage.  "You are relieved of command!"

Stunned, Vass sunk into the command chair, his dreams of glory vanishing before his eyes.  He glanced at the charred, smoking body at his feet. 

"I almost envy you, human," he muttered.  "In death, you have at least escaped the threat of dishonor."

As if on cue, the 'dead' man's eyes suddenly sprung open, freezing Vass' blood.  The slave's cracked lips split open to emit a harsh, strained whisper--

"Not.. dead.. yet.."

Vass sprung from his chair, his eyes widening in disbelief. 

"N-no; it's impossible!"

The captain tried to back away, but was stopped by a charred, blackened hand grasping his leg.  With mounting strength, the slave clawed his way up to the captain's knife sheath. 

Frozen by a mixture of horror and denial, Vass could only look on as the slave pulled his dagger free.

"you.. will not.. stop.. The COOPERATIVE!"

Wisps of smoke still rising from his cracked and bleeding skin, K'Tan stood and drew back his arm, holding the shining blade poised above him. 

Too late, Vass snapped back to his senses, and resumed his frantic struggle to break free. 

With terrible finality, K'Tan's hand swung down. 

The gleaming, razor-keen blade slipped effortlessly into Vass' eye, splitting the fragile orb and burying itself deep into the Klingon's fevered brain.

As he fell lifeless to the deck, Vass' last breath escaped with a rattle, taking with it the dishonored Klingon's hopes and dreams of glory.

K'Tan yanked the ichor-covered blade free.  Like a reanimated corpse, he shuffled painfully towards the Conn station, his cracked feet leaving bloody footprints on the cold, hard deck.  His arm snapped forward once more, sending the blade spinning through the air with an ominous whistle.  The knife found a new home in the neck of the Conn officer, who fell to the deck, frantically trying to stop the escape of his life's blood.  K'Tan leaned over the dying Klingon, and punched a series of commands into the pilot's station. 

As he made his final entry, he felt a dull impact in the center of his back, followed by a cold, razor-sharp flare of pain in the center of his chest.  He reached behind himself to feel the unforgiving steel of a bat'leth protruding from his back.  With its final beat, his heart ripped in two, and darkness greedily stole his sight. 

K'Tan slumped wearily to the deck, satisfied that he had done all he could to protect The Collective. 

But as he felt himself being swallowed by the void, all thoughts of the collective were washed away by an even grander vision. 

His sightless eyes widened, and a smile of wonder lit the dying slave's face as he saw...*

JOINT POST WITH MOYER777 & HAWKEYEMEDS

Her eyes darted for somewhere to escape but the figure slowly crept
forward. She ran to the turbo lift and skidded on the blood crashing
into the solid door, her nose cracked on impact.

"Now you have only gone and spread all the mess around"

She scrabbled in the blood trying to get to her feet and banged on the
turbo lift door.

"Help me, please, HELP ME!!!!"

The hunched figure slowly edged out of the darkness, the face half
burned and septic loomed towards the petrified girl.

"I've been watching you, and now I'm going to demonstrate how to kill someone properly."

Lorna pressed herself tight against the door and screamed.

"Margon Nooooooooo!!!!!!!!"

"No one can hear you, so shut up.  Accept your fate.  You are mine."

Lorna ducked below Margons swipe and ran behind him.

A sound of phaser fire could be heard from above.

"Oh, sounds like you may have missed the party little girl, how i'd like to have tested some of my party tricks on you. We could have had so much fun together, you and I.", he hissed.  His hand shook with anticipation as the blade gleamed.

He turned round and began to laugh at Lorna.  He loved her fear.  Fear was something that fascinated Margon.  He had struggled to overcome it, and eventually figured out to be numb.

She looked around for something to use as Margon lifted his scalpel up to his cheek. Lorna backed away and then remembered the metal section spanner in her back pocket, she lowered her hand and grabbed the handle, screaming she ran at the disfigured doctor who in turn ran at her.

The two collided as with one hand Lorna grabbed the Dr.s scalpeled fist and tried to hold it back.  With the other she thrust the spanner at his abdomen.  A horrible squishing sound accompanied a rush of thick blue blood from Margon.  His eyes began to roll back into his head as the scalpel fell from his hand.  He stepped back and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I don't feel pain" he thought.  Then he realized that Lorna had pushed the spanner completely through his mid section.

His legs lost strength and he tumbled to the floor in the increasingly larger blood pool.  Landing face first he turned his head toward the shocked and scared woman.

"We would have had so much....   fun... togeth....."

With that Dr. Margon lurched as blood trickled from his mouth.  Then he lay motionless his eyes wide open.

Lorna stared at Margon for a brief moment.

It was dim where Margon lay.  The light from the porthole streamed down upon the blue liquid surrounding his body causing it shine with a sickening reflection.  A small device attached to Dr. Margon's wrist began to pulse rhythmically.  The red flashing light caused light to dance on the surrounding hull plating.  Surely the Dr. wouldn't have planted explosives on his body would he?  "I'm not waiting around to find out" she said and ran.

On the bridge an officer at the Science station heard a proximity alert beep from his panel.  His fingers rushed over the panel to check the alarm.  As he was about to announce his findings, he stopped himself.  The alarm had quit as quickly as it had started. 

"Just some more debris  caught in the shield parameter" he thought to himself.

This had been happening frequently what with the battle that had gone on.  The shields either pushed the debris away or it simply vaporized upon impact.

The small cloaked ship buddied up to the Tiberius and turned off it's systems except life support and the transporter room.
Three sensor dampening pods materialized in a triangle around the body of Margon and the familiar sound of the transporter echoed through the room.  A slender cloaked figure appeared and bent down next to the body.

"Oh, now what have you done?, I leave you alone for any amount of time and just can't handle yourself.  What happened?"  He knew the lifeless corpse wouldn't answer.  The reality hit him and for a moment he caught himself feeling sadness. 

"Stop it" he muttered to himself.  "I have no time to feel." He looked down at the Dr.

"You taught me that."

He laid his hand on the back of Margon, clicked his communication device and said.  "Two to beam over"

The response echoed through the chamber "Yes Captain Brex, right away sir"

Brex shook his head.  He wanted to feel.  Sociopaths don't feel, they use.  "Like father, like son" he mused as he dematerialized leaving only the blue blood pooled on the floor.

Joint Post by Rico & Hawkeyemeds

The one eye watched as Margon vanished in a blue transport glow, the
blood shot optical turned up to the ceiling and he waited to hear the
outcome of the young girls mission.

Lorna looked down at the dead bodies of her fellow mutineers, they all
had phaser marks across their bodies except for one, who had obviously
died from loss of blood from their severed arm. She wiped the blood
with her torn shirt sleeve from her hands and let it drop to the turbo lift floor, it
landed in a puddle of the congealing blood and slowly turned dark.
It took less than ten seconds for the lift to reach the bridge, and it
took less than two seconds for the door to open. Admiral Talbot spun
round his face solid and unmoved, he raised his hand quickly and the
crew behind him jumped up, their phasers un-holstered and pointing to
the exiting assassin.
Phaser fire left the turbo lift and it was complimented with equal
fire from the bridge crew. The bridge section lit up in a beautiful
orange glow silhouetting the people as if ghosts in a beautiful flame.

Joint post written by Jen, Startrekfanatic 5 and Sheppard

Reese gripped a phaser in each of his gloved hands as he strode with determination down the hall toward Doctor Peterson's quarters.  A brigade of lower decks crewmen marched closely behind him—they were zealous—he was calculating—as a group, no one could stop them. The deck plates rumbled as the approaching storm neared Peterson's quarters.  Standing near the physician's door, armed to the tooth, were two of the Admirals personal guards. Before the sentinels could react, the henchman raised his weapons to chest height and fired. The individuals assigned to protect Sevryll, fell where they stood in smoking, groaning heaps.  Reese stepped over the bodyguards and headed through the door, leaving the dying men to the ravenous mob.

The door whisked open to reveal a small, dimly lit room. From where he stood in the entry the henchman could clearly see his target, and she was currently preoccupied by a mind meld. David Reese aimed a single phaser at Sevryll and slowly squeezed a shot from the weapon. The room was instantly ablaze with the glow of a crimson energy beam. His blast had found it's mark and the Vulcan crumpled to the floor.

"No!" Peters bellowed as he pushed Quinn aside just in time for a second pulse to burn it's way through the man's chest. The force of the blast threw the mercenary against the wall with a thwack. Nathan flicked a shocked expression upon his lifeless friend... The wound Peters suffered was devastatingly large. It was painfully obvious that he had lost his friend...again. The agony of that realization poured over him suddenly, causing him to feel lightheaded.  He looked up at the murderer that fired the fatal shot—his stunned gaze met only by a hard glare. Nathan shifted his gray-green eyes to the Vulcan laying at his feet—she was still breathing, but only just. Without a moment's hesitation, Quinn knelt and took Sevryll into his arms. The phaser trained on the captain was jabbed forward as Reese accented his threat, " I don't know who you are, but your associations with these traitors has condemned you." Quinn could sense the henchman's thoughts and knew the instant Reese's brain sent the message to his finger to pull the trigger. A heartbeat later, the energy beam passed through the particles of light that churned within the transporter beam. In the end, the agent that rejected her Queen had unwittingly aided the Cooperative. The shield modulation codes that Aria plucked from Sevryll's mind during their recent contact, enabled the Cooperative to steal Nathan Quinn from the Empire's mighty flag ship, and save him from certain death.

The figure on the deck under the bridge danced with an imaginary
partner to the sounds of phaser fire on the bridge above. Drifting
from side to side he whispered in the imaginary ear.

"You dance beautifully, do you come here
often.............no.........oh that's a shame....... I hear the
parties upstairs just blow the roof off ha ha ha ha........"

Dancing around the corridors dropping every now and again to let his
invisible partner take the lead he stopped at a control panel.

"Computer. Set self destruct sequence 01, 01, 05 dash 14."

The computer replied as the man danced from toe to toe.

"Command sequence can only be operated by Command"

Dancing a quick step to his left and then finishing with a delicate waltz he lifted his hand and let the imaginary partner drift to her seat

"Thank you ma'am i need to teach this thing a dance or two. Computer I am Sir Joseph of D'Callan I am higher than command, I am higher than any Emperor... I am higher than all the gods in the universe"

As he twirled around and left himself in a Arabesque position the computer responded

"This request can only be activated by Admiral Talbot"

D'Callan held his hands aloft with his leg outstretched and sang out to a old theatrical tune.

"THAAAAT MUSSSST MEANNNN THAT TALLLLLBOT IS STILL HEREEEE"

Jumping up he bowed to the computer and put his finger into his open eye socket, he cleared some seeping fluid and tasted it.

"Hmmmm nutmeg"

He drifted off back to where he had been hiding and decided to see what the party was like on the bridge. He held his hand up as if holding a tray of drinks and began offering the imaginary party guests glasses as he headed to the turbo lift door. It opened and he stood in.

"Going up......and away"

Aboard the bridge of the NegVar, KoraQ silently watched the static-hazed feed from the kamikaze ship's bridge monitor.

A Klingon warrior stood over the dead Terran called K'Tan, his hands wrapped around the handle of an old and battered batleth.  With a mighty tug, he yanked the bladed weapon from the Terran's back, then turned to face the viewscreen.  As the warrior opened his mouth to speak, the image filled with static, then winked out to be replaced by an external view of Aria's flagship and the kamikaze vessel speeding towards it.

As Worf, KoraQ, and K'Lara looked on in stunned silence, the kamikaze altered course, passing within a fraction of a kellicam of Aria's vessel,  and then plunged towards the outer atmosphere of the planet Teross.

As the horrifying reality of the situation sunk in, KoraQ felt his heart stop in his chest. 

Once the device activated, a chain reaction would release a wave of thalaron radiation that would wash over the entire planet.  All organic matter on the world would be ruthlessly consumed, converted into an inert, ash-like substance.  The once verdant world would be reduced to a lifeless, ash-covered rock.  And with an entire planet's bio-mass fueling it, there was no way of knowing how far outward the scouring wave of death would expand. 

The entire system could be at risk.

KoraQ's head snapped around to address the communication's officer.  "Broadcast to the entire Alliance fleet!  Reverse course and evacuate the system; maximum warp!"

As the officer carried out his command, the Admiral closed his eyes and wearily lowered his head.  KoraQ contemplated the engine of destruction that his Alliance had created, and the effect it would soon have on the primitive natives on the planet below.  A hoarse, choked sob shook his chest.

Kahless forgive us; what have we done?

As the blue skinned man climbed the last few rungs of the access ladder he found his mind drifting back to only a short time ago.  The pretty blond woman's face appeared in his thoughts and he couldn't help but smile as he reached for his phaser.

"Marie, have you heard what's going on?  The ship has an all-out mutiny on it's hands.  I mean I wanted Talbot out of the way, but not like this."  The Andorian officer said as he turned to the woman he loved.

"Yeah, I'm very much aware.  I barely got out of engineering.  D'Callan and Reese have worked the crew up into a frenzy.  Turned them all into a bunch of alien haters."  Marie Barton said as she moved closer to Zremm.

"Well, you know who will be next on that witch hunt.  Marie, are you ok?  You look tired?  Is something wrong?"  Zremm said as he pulled Marie close to him.

"I didn't want this to be the time to tell you, but I'm pregnant.  You're going to be someone's father."  The young woman told Zremm as she hugged him tight.

"What?  By the stars - I didn't think that could happen between us.  That changes everything!"  Zremm said as he quickly pulled away, his mind racing as he grabbed his phaser off the desk near them.

"Ch'Fras, what are you going to do?  Where are you going?"  Marie said in a panic.

"I'm not letting this ship turn into some madman's anti-alien playground.  Our child will be half-Andorian and I'll die before I let someone hurt them or you for being with me.  Even if it mean saving that pointy-eared Admiral's ass."  Zremm said as he tucked his phaser on to his belt and quickly kissed a stunned Marie goodbye.

"Get your mind in the game, Zremm."  The lanky Andorian muttered to himself as he reached the emergency access hatch to the bridge.  After unlocking the hatch, Zremm pushed it open with one hand and quickly climbed through.  Blasts of phaser fire from across the bridge caught his eye as looked over the scene.  He saw a group taking cover in the turbolift as they jumped out and tried to hit the bridge crew.  A few crewmen were down, but Zremm saw Talbot down behind his command chair along with the OPS officer.  Everyone seemed to be too busy to notice Zremm quickly slip on to the bridge.  In one quick motion, Zremm shot off a couple of phaser bursts towards the turbolift as he did a quick roll, coming up behind Talbot.

"Nice of you to join the party, Mr. Zremm.  But, I have to say I'm a bit surprised to see you on this side of the bridge."  Talbot said as he shot off a quick burst from his own phaser and gave the Andorian a wry grin.

"I don't like you Talbot - probably never will.  But this isn't the answer."  Zremm said as he took up a position to the right of Talbot and shot his own weapon toward the lift.

"I'm thinking Marie had something to do with your change of heart - and maybe the baby?"  Talbot said as Zremm gave him a stunned look.

"You knew?  How??"  Zremm said quietly.

"I didn't know for certain, but I suspected.  Being half-Romulan has it's advantages.  If we get out of this Zremm, I won't stand in the way.  I know she's in love with you.  Just took awhile for an old soldier to admit it to myself.  But let's talk later.  Right now we have a little mutiny to deal with."  Talbot said as he yelled out and snapped off several more bursts from his weapon, one of them catching the arm of one of the mutineers in the turbolift.  Zremm just smiled as he moved to cover the Admiral with his own weapon and found a new found respect for his commander.

The spiraling particles of the Cooperative transporters materialized the wayward captain and his injured companion. It had taken a wide beam transport to breach the distortion field generated by the planet. Cooperative drones moved quickly to the side of the two as their queen made her quiet approach. Captain Quinn cradled the near still form of the woman that shared the name and appearance of one of his most valued friends.

Green blood oozed from the terrible wound of the Vulcan that she had been offered perfection. Perfection that Sevryll rejected. It was a fatal wound to even Empire technology, but it was easily within the ability of the Cooperative to repair. As her children moved to attend the dying woman, a thought from their Queen halted them. She had rejected the gifts that Aria would have showered her with. She had rejected the Cooperative and those that would have protected her. By her own actions, Sevryll had even rejected the help that was in Aria's power to grant.

"She is dying," Aria said softly to Quinn, who wore the pain of the pending loss on his face. Her satin smooth voice purred in his ear as she touched his shoulder softly. "Nathan, we need to tend to your infection. There is nothing that you can do to save her. You must be cured before we can return you home."

Gold hued injection tubules slithered snake-like from Aria's delicate wrist while she comforted the grieving man. Without waiting for permission, they struck into the soft yielding flesh of Nathan's neck and intimately linked the two. She gave from herself to cure him even as she took a part of him into her. Ecstatic sensations flowed between them as they both traveled on a current produced by the pleasure and passions of an entire race.

Aria felt his power and it was intoxicating. With but another thought, she could pull him, body and soul, into the web of unity that was the Cooperative, but she did not allow that thought. She could not take him. He was not for her. She had promised to return him home, but she could not ... she would not allow herself to lose him entirely.

In an endless moment of pleasure fueled passion, Aria's power and adaptations purged the Captain of his infection. Billions of her nanoprobes raced though his body and destroyed the invaders to it before returning back to her.

Aria smiled softly to him when all of her machines returned and carried with them a part of him.  Her tender voice whispered softly in his ear, allowing the heat of her breath to dance over the flesh of his cheek and neck. "My attendants will make sure her final moments are peaceful. She refuses our aid, but we will not allow her to suffer. It is the least that we could do."

"That's not good enough.", Quinn said. "In your mind, I've seen what your people are capable of. Are you going to let her die simply because of spite? Show me that they are wrong about you. Help her."

"She, of her own free will, rejected us. She does not want our help Nathan." Aria continued to whisper against him. "I do not do this lightly, but for you, I will stabilize her and bring her with us. That is the most that I can do for her and you."

Nathan nodded slowly. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was better than nothing. If she came back with him, he trusted that his people would be able to help her.

Aria smiled to her guest as she touched her hand to the phaser charred wound that marred the perfect Vulcan skin. The soft blue radiance of the Queen's bioneural energy pulsed between her hand the injured flesh and seeped into Sevryll's shallowly breathing body. Aria would not heal her completely, but she would give her the strength to survive until Quinn's people could attend to her. She would heal her to the point where she would be within the means of Federation technology to survive.

As the light faded between them, Aria rose and offered a small smile to the Captain. Aria nodded to Spring, as she materialized beside her. "My attendant is here. We are leaving now."

With a thought, most of her fleet evacuated to safety with the planetary inhabitants they managed to save from the cascading energy wave. The advanced metaphasic shielding of her own ship would protect it from the Alliance doomsday weapon as she attended to other matters. The planet might be reduced to ashes, but some of them would survive with the Cooperative and the Alliance would have to pay for their transgressions against a Cooperative world.

With another thought, her mind took direct control of the transporter systems. From Nathan's earlier contact, she had managed to learn the layout of his vessel and the location of its medical bay. Aria opened her mind to the power of the Cooperative and its links to her. That power added to her nacene legacy allowed her to simply move them from her ship to the one that Nathan was intimately familiar with. Technology aided what genetics had given her and the Queen of the Cooperative, for a brief moment pulled those two points in the multiverse together.

In a flash of golden light, the four moved from one reality to the next.

Joint post by Meds and Jen

ACT III

The hallucinations brought on by stress and fatigue, prompted the Chief Medical Officer to insist that Nurse Caine find an available space on the Sickbay floor, and take a nap. Susan didn't believe she would be capable of sleeping.  But sleep came quickly to the exhausted head nurse, and she awoke an hour later to the buzzing of her fellow staff members as they worked around her. She felt incredibly groggy and it took a few seconds for her to realize where she was. It came slowly to Susan as she turned toward Doctor Drett's office... the feelings of loss began to grip her heart once more, at the thought of her friend lying dead behind the door. The nurse pushed herself up and slowly stood. The deck had forced a kink in her back and she groaned as she stretched her stiff muscles. Her hair spilled gently over her shoulders as she bent at her waist—first to the left and then the right.  As Susan slowly straightened, she noticed some of her colleagues  watching her as they worked. They were worried that she was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and she knew they were probably right. Susan attempted to smile for the nurses and med techs. They returned it, yet their expressions looked just as forced as her own. It faded with the  thought of Joseph... she hadn't seen him since he discharged himself from sickbay at the start of the attack. She drew a deep breath, before moving to aid a patient who had just arrived. It felt good to help someone else—concentrating on their pain somehow dulled her own. Soon after she pressed a hypo spray into her patient, a whirring sound began to resonate in the center of sickbay where the faint features of three individuals flashed before them.

As Quinn, Sevryll and Aria materialized in Main Sickbay, they could hear the doctors and nurses moving about them—frantically working to save lives. Nathan was unsure of the Arabella's present circumstances, but it was obvious the situation was grim. With the wounded Vulcan still in his arms the Captain shouted a fretful inquiry above the din, "Where's Doctor Peterson!?"
 
The haggard Betazoid physician heard the voice of the Captain and turned in surprise to see Captain Quinn shuffling past him. His heart leapt in his chest, for Nathan had been missing for over twelve hours and his sudden emergence was unexpected to say the least. Casey dropped what he was doing and rushed toward him, "Captain!"
 
"Doctor, this woman needs immediate attention!" Peterson was astonished to discover that the injured woman Nathan referred to, was Sevryll. A baffled expression washed over his face but he quickly recovered and called for the nearest table to be cleared for the new patient.
 
"Casey, this is not the Commander," uttered Quinn in a whisper.

Doctor Peterson looked up from his tricorder, "that would explain the twins she's carrying."  He removed the insignia from his lab coat and tossed the combadge to Quinn before preparing a hypo and pressing it to the woman's neck. "It's good to have you back Captain....but you should probably let Commander Sevryll know where you are."
 
"Thank you, Casey...it's good to be back. What happened here?" He asked as he gazed about Sickbay.
 
The First Officer's Mirror counterpart moaned as Casey carefully pulled the burned fabric from the wound on her chest. Doctor Peterson shook his head when he saw the extent of the damage and looked up at Quinn, "The Borg attacked right after you disappeared. We've managed to get them off the ship, but now we're dealing with infected crewmen.

"Then the Borg are no longer a threat..." inquired Nathan.

"Oh, they're still a problem. From what little I know, they've taken a defensive position near a spatial anomaly we have recently detected."
 
The Captain glanced to the stone-faced Cooperative Queen as he fixed the combadge to his chest. A melodic chime followed as the device responded to his touch, "Captain Quinn to Commander Sevryll."
 
Aria left Nathan's side to wade curiously about the floor of the medical bay. As she sauntered nonchalantly through the writhing patients, she sliced through the subconscious thoughts of the crew, in search of her mother and father.  They were very close...she could feel them... but it had been so long since she had heard their voices and she was having trouble locating them in the chaos of the Arabella. Aria soon stepped into a void of thoughts and found herself in the doorway of a makeshift morgue.  Her eyes scanned the area—apart from the lifeless forms that filled the former office, the room was vacant.

"There is unity even in silence," whispered the Queen. Aria paused at the table nearest the door and gazed down at the blue covering that veiled a feminine form.  The Vulcanoid inquisitively lifted the corner of a sheet and gazed down at the face of a Trill female. Curious, Aria casually moved her fingertips over the young woman's cold, ashen face before pressing them to her temples. There was no activity, but remnants of information and memories could still be obtained. The woman was once a doctor and by the chaos Aria witnessed about her, she knew the staff required her aid. The body convulsed at the Cooperative Queen's touch then relaxed as Aria's attention was drawn away by a distinctive presence in the next room. She dropped the sheet and turned to see a blue-haired, golden-eyed alien enter Sickbay.
 
Commander Sevryll, still clad in her Terossick guise, had stepped into the bustling atmosphere of the medical ward. The Borg's attack had mysteriously stopped  and the Arabella was taking the opportunity to make more repairs to their weapons systems. Aside from repairs their highest priority was the nanite infection that had rapidly spread among the Arabella's crew. Lieutenant Commander James was left in command of the bridge, and she had come to offer her help, as Chief Science Officer, to the medical staff.  Sevryll's amber eyes scanned the room in search of Doctor Peterson before coming to rest on a familiar face.  Her brows rose in disbelief as Nathan Quinn pitched his gaze toward her.

Joint post by Jen and Just X

Aria Sairyn James, Queen of the Cooperative stood motionlessly as the all too familiar woman entered the room. A lifetime of longing washed over her as she hesitantly moved closer. For all the power that she had— for all the worlds she had conquered in the name of peace, she had never gotten over losing her parents. It was the wound that hurt her the most.

"Mother?" She questioned—the rawness of her emotions tinting her words. "Do you recognize me?"

The Queen cautiously drew closer to the odd appearing woman. While Sevryll's visage was something that Aria had not expected, the presence of the woman made Aria feel as if she had finally come home.

The Arabella's executive officer lifted a blue Terossick brow at Aria's peculiar inquiry. Sevryll had a thousand questions of her own for Captain Quinn, but she hadn't seen Aria since the battle began and the tone of the young woman's query concerned her.  "Of course. Are you well daughter?"

Commander Sevryll glanced to Quinn, who had cleared his throat. "This is not Ensign James," he turned his head from the Cooperative Queen to his First Officer as he attempted to frame the information he would divulge next. He noted the way Aria searched her mother's alien eyes for a hint of remembrance. The confidence the young woman exuded in the rift, had waned slightly and he sensed a desperate need for her mother's recognition. This was somewhat troubling to him. He would be briefed on the ship's status soon enough, right now he needed to explain where he had been and mediate this potentially volatile first introduction of the Cooperative Queen. He gestured to Doctor Peterson's office and the three stepped within the privacy of four transparent walls. Nathan nodded in thanks to the CMO as Casey worked the floor.

He then perched himself on the edge of Peterson's desk, "Aria came with me through the rift—that's where I have been—a parallel universe ravaged by the Borg and split by various warring factions. Many of us have doubles there, one of which I brought back with me; a Vulcan who shares your name and appearance." He pointed toward Doctor Peterson, who was working just beyond the office door. The physician's back was too them, and momentarily blocked their view of his patient. Nurse Caine approached Casey and he turned to accept a PADD from her, revealing the woman laying motionless before him. Commander Sevryll lifted both brows as she stared in wonder. If she hadn't currently worn the alterations from her recent away mission, she would have described the doctor's newest patient as a reflection. Nathan pushed himself off the desk and stepped towards Sevryll—the Commander thought he looked fatigued and she detected a note of sadness in his tone.  "I know it's a lot to take in, but there's more." He paused a moment before inclining his head toward the Cooperative Queen, "This woman is your biological daughter, not the binary clone you know as "Aria"."

Joint post by Jen and Just X

Sevryll was puzzled by the revelation, for Aeric had told her that Aria was erased by a shift in the timeline. Numerous temporal deviations had altered her personal history. In one such experience, Aria was conceived and raised by Sevryll and Aeric James. When time shifted again, Sevryll made unique life-altering decisions and those choices ultimately expunged her eldest daughter. How did their daughter end up in an alternate universe? It was confusing even to Sevryll's scientific mind. She examined the young woman's face, and saw in her eyes the misery that Nathan noticed.

Aria sensed her mother's question and took a slow breath, "father was born in the Nexus. That singular event allowed only one of him to be born in all the multiverse. As his daughter, I am also unique. My recessive Nacene genes allowed me to survive the temporal anomaly by shifting me to another reality." She paused a moment—her jaw working as she formed the next sentenced, "I hear that father has create a duplicate of me. Should I call her a twin or a mistake?" Aria did not wait for an answer. She moved closer to her mother—Sevryll took a step back.  The young woman paused a moment before her emotive tone coated the next statement. "It's good to see you again—I've missed my family terribly." Then without warning, the smile faded, "however, I did not expect to be replaced."

Commander Sevryll was unsure of how to respond to the statements steeped in acidity. She observed the twenty-year-old's quivering lip and narrowed dark eyes. Separation from family had obviously negatively affected her. Sevryll replied cautiously, "Aria is not a mistake, but the result of your father's hope to regain a small portion of the daughter who was lost to us.  I do not recall having any other children... but I have come to know you through the clone and have learned to call her 'daughter' as well. Be at peace—I welcome you home, Aria." The elder woman raised her hand and parted her fingers in the traditional Vulcan greeting.

Aria smiled, "I too have worked hard in rebuilding the family I lost." She turned her eyes to her own abdomen and rested her hand upon it then nodded softly before returned Sevryll's greeting. "Thank you mother, but my stay here will not be long. My people need me and I would be a poor queen to abandon them. Yet I am... gratified... to know that you and father are alive. You mentioned other children. How many more siblings do I have in this reality?"

With another quirk of an eyebrow, the Commander noted Aria's reference to herself as "Queen", but did not ask the woman to expound. Instead she replied with a minute hint of pride, "you have a four-year-old brother and sister. Your father has an adopted daughter...a child of the timeline you disappeared from. You may know her as your great aunt, Elizabeth." As far as Sevryll knew, the children were in Dennis's care. The hologram programmed to protect them, had sent the Commander a false report in order to prevent their mother from being distracted from her duties as Acting Captain. Dennis intended to notify Sevryll that her son had been taken by Borg intruders, but the proper moment for that revelation had yet presented itself. The hologram felt the weight of his failure and feared not only for N'Vall's welfare, but that of his mother's as well. Immediately following his forced retreat into the ship's computer, the sentinel dispatched the Arabella's only other hologram to collect the surviving child. Several hours had passed since then, and M'rynn was safely in Rory's care. But the Commander would have to be told the truth soon. The truce with the Borg was only temporary, and Dennis was concerned that Sevryll would destroy the sphere and with it, her only son.

Small beads of sweat glistened off the brow of Commander James as he sat in the captain's chair of the Arabella. His head throbbed from the constant use of his ability in attempt to slow the progress of the Borg infection. He was impressed at the talents of the crew and how well they worked to save the ship, but he had no intention of letting the ship that he had help to create fall on her first mission.

"Status of nanotech repair system?," Aeric asked Rory via the open communications channel.

It had been Rory's job to reprogram the Aurora's nanorepair systems with the Arabella's schematics and increase the quantity. She had even managed to succeed in that task to some degree. The Arabella was designed to one day be upgraded with the technology, but the ship's computers were not programmed with ability to control and direct the machines. She would have to direct the operations from the Aurora's computers and then it would only be of limited use. They would be able to combat the Borg infections of the ship, but they would not be able to make any repairs.

"We should be able to flush the ship of Borg infection with the next hour." Rory replied without pausing in her work. "We have reached 30% of the necessary yield to begin the process."

"Thank you Ro-," Aeric paused in mid sentence as he felt a brief shimmer in reality. Nothing that he could sense had changed. It could only mean that something had recently arrived from outside of it. Taking a deep breath, Aeric returned his focus to the problem at hand. "Thank you Rory, notify me when you are ready to proceed."

Her first breath arrived as a painful wheeze drawn through chattering teeth.  Her second breath came as a sharp gasp, quickly followed by violent cough.  She opened her eyes and her pupils were instantly stabbed by fingers of light. The woman blinked as tears of pain spilled over her checks.  Her muscles were stiff and they complained as she awkwardly pulled at the thin sheet that covered her body. She lay there trembling in silence for a protracted moment, while each of her senses gradually returned. Before long, a feeling of deep despair assailed her with a sudden awareness.

She was... alone.

Ryla's mouth fell open as a silent sob escaped her lungs—she was no longer joined—Drett was gone. The sorrow was unlike anything she had ever felt. The tears that had formed at the advent of her coughing, now flowed from an overwhelming grief.  With the sheet still wrapped about her, the Trill rose from the morgue table and moved her unsteady feet to the floor.  She took an uncertain step and dropped as her legs failed under her weight.  The force of Ryla's fall overturned her table before she collided the floor.

The cold, unyielding deck offered no compassion as the Trill pulled herself into a fetal position and hoarsely wept.

A sudden crash stole Susan's attention from the patient she tended. The sound seemed to have come from inside the make-shift morgue. Nurse Caine hesitated a moment, fearful that her hallucinations had return. She flicked her gaze to Nurse Tobin and received an unspoken message of reassurance, but the muffled sobs that followed the initial sound prompted Susan to leave her patient and investigate. Sickbay soon echoed with Caine's shout for help. Tessa Tobin was the first to answer the call and step through the door in time to see Susan Caine kneeling beside a frightened and confused Ryla Drett.

"How is this possible? She was dead! Peterson even did an autopsy!" shouted Tobin.

Ryla's sobs became more frenzied. Susan fired a glare at Tessa that told her she had said too much. Without a word she turned her attention back to the Trill, "Shooosh...." Caine pulled the sheet around the young doctor and glanced back to Tobin, "Find her something to wear... we need to get her out of here." She wearily glanced to the other bodies lining the walls and wondered if anyone else would be rejoining the living. What she didn't know was that the Cooperative Queen had resurrected Ryla, and only Ryla. The vast number of genetic characteristics that Aria assimilated and blended with her own, included the altered genes of a race called the Kobali—a species from the Delta Quadrant who possessed the ability to reanimate the dead. Ryla was alive, but Drett had been utterly destroyed by the blast to the Trill's midsection and remnants of the symbiont, who had been apart of her life for ten years, had been removed during the autopsy.



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobali (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobali)

Taking the surgical gown from Tobin she placed it over the shivering patient, lifting her up Susan was surprised at how light Ryla was. Walking out of the makeshift morgue Ryla buried her head into Susan's shoulder and her sobs muffled into her uniform. Dr Peterson looked up from his patient "Details Susan?"

Susan gently walked up the Dr and showed the face of Ryla, her breathing gentle but slow. "Pulse is 61 bpm Its too crowded here Dr, I don't think people should see Ryla like this".

Peterson lifted a hypo spray off the table and gave Ryla a shot in her neck. The busy CMO ignored the feelings of shock and remained completely professional  "Take her to your quarters, let her rest and monitor her condition. Come back when you can but if in doubt do not leave her."

Leaving sickbay she quickened her pace as several of the crewmen took quick glances but no one saw that it was the once dead brave Doctor huddled in the nurses arms.
Once inside the turbo lift she had time to wipe the tear soaked wet hair from her pale face, Ryla's eyes glanced up at the smiling face, and a small movement etched form the corner of her mouth. The door swooshed open and D'Callan ran in.

"G'day Sue, taking your work home with ya"

Susan dipped her arms so Joseph could see who she was carrying. He looked at her face and then back at Susan.

"How? I. . . . "

Susan shook her head "I don't know, I'm taking her to my quarters, she'll be safe there till all this dies down an bit"

D'Callan placed his phaser into his holster and put a reassuring hand on Susan's shoulder and gave her a wink. The lift door opened again and he disappeared into the steam, the door closed and Susan felt an air of warmth breeze over her at the thought of the security chiefs touch. It wasn't long before she reached her quarters and had Ryla tucked up into her bed, the hypo spray had done its job and she slept peacefully. Walking to the replicater she ordered a hot chocolate before taking a seat next to her friend

Confusion raced through the thoughts of Ensign James as she made her way towards sickbay. Her entire world spun with each measured step. She had no problems feeling the mental invitation sent to her and it had shocked her to the core. Every decision that she had made had, without warning, been put into question. She was only five decks from coming face to face with a past that she had never expected to encounter.

Somehow her original body had survived temporal dissolution and now she had come home. Her very identity had come into question on the eve of one of the Arabella's most trying battle.

"Sickbay," the young woman, still in her alien disguise said when she boarded the turbolift. "Let's see just exactly what I've been up to during these missing years."

Aria had no doubts on her own life. She knew who she was. She was the daughter of two Federation officers and a member of Arabella crew. She was a binary clone, but she also knew what that meant.

The form that she wore was a combination of the genes of her mother and father. In that respect, she was no different from any naturally conceived child. In fact, the only difference was that almost every single one of the gene pairs that her parents contributed to her were chosen to produce return her to her original form.

Almost every gene.

Her new form did not have the recessive gene that granted her father's temporal abilities. She possessed the fully active gene and the immunity to temporal changes that the gene allowed.

She was unique. She was an improvement over her previous form and she knew it.

Binary Clone.

She knew what the words meant more than anyone. It was a polite way of saying gene engineered perfection.

Every child born to two parents were by definition a binary clone of their parents. She wore the distinction because her circumstances had not offered the luxury of being carried to term and birthed by her mother.

She felt the probing thoughts of her other self as the turbolift grew closer. The very presence of this other might have caused doubts in others, but she was a James. She was the flesh and blood daughter of Aeric James and Sevryll of Vulcan. She had not been born in some non-existent timeline. Her parents knew her and remembered her rebirth.

There was simply nothing that this other self could say that would put her identity to question.


At least she hoped that there wasn't.


Aria wore her bravery as a mask and inside she fought to hold on to everything that made her unique. She could not afford to dwell on the reactions of her parents to this intruder to their lives. She could not afford herself to think that she was just a copy.

The tangled threads of incoherent whispers echoed within the abyss. Though she resisted, the voices drew her forth like cold water from a deep well. Ryla struggled against them until the clear command of a solitary voice beckoned her to cooperate. Its power forced her to accommodated the voice, but the fear she felt did not diminish.  Ryla had been had been at peace within the Gulf of Souls and the sudden invasion, ripped her from that welcomed serenity—stealing her like fruit from another's field. From the bedside, Nurse Caine watched her friend toss and turn as the nightmares continued to beset the young Trill.

Joint post by Jen and Just X

Aeric James stood speechless within the observation lounge as he looked across the table towards Sevryll and two versions of his daughter. One, the younger looking of the two, had been reborn through a scientific miracle and was still in the native guise of her last mission. The other was the physical age of the child that he had assumed lost and had been subtly altered in appearance. He could sense that both were filled with biotech enhancements, one possessed his recent designs and the other a blend of his early designs and Borg augmentations.

"Hello father," the elder of the young women said softly. She rose slowly with the grace of a queen and the anxiety of an abandoned child. "It's been a long time. I thought that you were gone."

Aeric nodded and moved to close the distance between the two. The shock on his face transformed into an elated smile as he pulled her into a tight embrace. "I thought the same... I can't begin to understand how this happened. Where have you been?"

"Trying to make a difference...trying to make you proud," she said as she pulled free of the hug to look into his eyes. She then glanced to the younger version that shared her name and memories. "But I see that you have forgotten me and created a substitute."

Aeric shook his head and looked down at the still quiet clone. "No. You were not replaced."

He smiled to his still seated daughter and offered a hand to her. "You have not been forgotten either. You are both my daughters."

The clone smiled and placed her hand in her father's, squeezing it softly. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was her own person. She didn't believe that she was some poor copy of the original that stood before her. "I would be lying if I said this wasn't confusing."

The Queen of the Cooperative nodded slowly and pulled free of her father. "Call me Sairyn, I have always preferred my middle name."

Sairyn's eyes moved over those gathered in the room. She had never expected a reunion with her parents. Even in her wildest fantasies, she had never expected there to be two of her at that meeting. She could only look at her mother and wonder what her opinion was of the situation.

Sevryll's impassive facade softened as she gazed back at the Cooperative Queen. "Because of the temporal shift, I am no longer the woman that raised you—I am essentially a version of the mother you once knew. What happened could not be avoided, yet it is possible for us to move forward from this point. " She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear before continuing, "I have known you both for only a brief period, and the circumstances that brought you each into my life are a mystery even still..." She glanced to Aria and then Sairyn, "...but I see in you, elements of myself. How can I deny what is so clearly apart of me? It is impossible."

Aeric smiled, "We have a lot to catch up on."

"Yes," agreed Sevryll. "But the Captain is waiting." The First Officer stood and gestured to the door. "Sairyn, perhaps you should join us in our briefing.  Much of our meeting will concern the spacial anomaly."

Joint post by Jen and Just X

Sevryll sat across from Captain Quinn within the Ready Room. Her golden Terossick eyes studied him as she began her briefing.  His face and clothing were smudged with a substance she could only assume was soot. The Borg body suit Nathan wore was pitted with chemical burns and his red-rimmed eyes were blood shot. The Captain was obviously physically exhausted, but his demeanor told Sevryll he was also mentally fatigued. She determined that a quick status report was in his best interest and quickly briefed him on the events that led to their current situation.

She began by telling him of the measures that were taken to rescue the away team runabouts from the Sphere's attack—beaming them directly into the shuttle bays had been their only option. Then she outlined the events that lead up to the Borg intrusion aboard Arabella, the damage that they sustained, and finally the actions they took to rid the ship of the drones. She yielded the floor to  Lieutenant Commander James, allowing the second officer to brief the Captain on the progress of repairs and the actions being taken to cure the infected crew.

Quinn listened without a single interruption and when Aeric was finished, Nathan nodded to them both then rubbed his eyes wearily. "What would cause them to halt their attack?"

Sevryll steepled her fingers before her, "the sphere has taken a defensive position before the spacial anomaly. The motive is unknown."

"We also still had unknown numbers of crew that were abducted in their initial attack," Aeric added to the conversation. "I don't see that as why they are there, but the fact that they are might give us some time to mount a rescue."

"We have some experience dealing with the Borg, if you don't mind another opinion." Sairyn added. It would have been easy to force her presence, but as far as she had grown, she had no intention of disrespecting her parents. Besides, the sooner the meeting ended, the sooner she could continue conversations with her family.

Quinn turned his tired eyes to the Cooperative Queen. He wasn't extremely pleased that she had joined their briefing, but the fact remained that she honored her promise to return him to his ship and her knowledge of the rift was potentially beneficial. "Continue," said the captain in tone that denoted the slightest hint of annoyance.

"They have a rift to another universe at their finger tips. A universe that contains Borg that are far more deadly than the variety here. We believe that they might be attempting to acquire better technology or open conversations for a multi-dimensional alliance." Sairyn said with a seductive tone. "If we were in your situation, we would destroy them before they could upset the balance of power in this universe. Your vessel is already taxed beyond the limits of its medical personnel to reverse the infection on the crew members here. Those that you have lost to the Borg are more than likely already a part of the hive mind. Trying to recover them would be bringing more enemies onto a ship that would not be able to contain them."

Lt. Cmdr. K'Tan stared at his reflection, and smiled.  Amid the chaos of fighting off the Borg invaders and rounding up infected crewmembers, he had managed to squeeze in an appointment with Dr. Peterson.  With his Terossik alterations reversed, he was back to his old self; scar and all. 

K'Tan nodded  at his reflection in approval. 

"Not bad," he said with a smile.

K'Tan glanced at his chrono, then stood and exited his office.  Within moments, he arrived at the Tactical department's primary training room.

Lt. Otak stood outside the doorway, a proud grin plastered on his face. 

"Right on time, sir!  You are going to love this!"

"So; I finally get a peek at your pet project," K'Tan replied.

With a smooth and efficient woosh, the door to the spacious training area whispered opened, and Otak gestured for the Chief Tactical Officer to step inside.  K'Tan entered the room, then froze in his tracks.  Facing him was a titanic, humanoid form forged of what appeared to be gray duranium alloy.  The metallic golem stood almost 3 meters tall, its domed head nearly reaching the ceiling.

K'Tan shook his head in disbelief.  The thing looked like a cross between a medieval suit of armor, a walking tank, and a mechanized gorilla.  Sprouting from its oversized forearms were what looked like a pair of type-III phaser emitters. 

"What the hell is it?" he asked.  "A robot?"

"Not exactly," Otak answered. 

The lieutenant approached the still machine, then placed his palm on a panel mounted on the thing's lower torso.  With a mechanical whirr, the machine hummed to life; it's legs ratcheting down to bring it into a kneeling position.  As its legs came in contact with the deck, its chest split, then swung open, revealing a cramped cavity dominated by a pilot's chair and a bewildering array of controls and interface panels. The thing's upper thighs split open as well, revealing a foot pedal and series of straps contained within each.

"Commander K'Tan, meet the MACO Assault Armor, mark I ," Otak said.  "It's a suit of combat armor that's sort of 'worn', or piloted, by a security officer.  I've been toying with the concept for a while now, and our troubles with the Borg sort of gelled the idea for me." 

As K'Tan stared in bemused silence, Otak offered a tentative smile.  "Not to belittle our hand-to-hand training regimen, but you have to admit sir; there are some instances in which steel and alloy are superior to flesh and bone.  Something like this could come in handy on rescue and retrieval missions."

"Interesting," K'Tan said, glancing meaningfully at the myriad control surfaces. "How does it work?"

"It really is easier than it looks," Otak said. 

"Once the armor has been fitted to its pilot, it responds to a combination of manually entered commands and neuro-muscular feedback.  You flex your arm, the armor flexes its arm.  You clench a fist, the armor clenches the corresponding fist.  The hardest thing to learn is compensating for the armor's amplified strength.  If you aren't careful, you could end up ripping someones arm off instead of just restraining them."

K'Tan couldn't help but share Otak's grin.  "Interesting idea, Lieutenant; I salute your inventiveness.  I can't make any promises, but I'll run the idea by D'Callan and Commander James to see what they think.  In the meantime, why don't you prepare a report of the suit's specs and capabilities, as well as some hypothetical situations in which it would be deployed."

Grinning, Otak gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up.  "You got it, commander!"

As K'Tan turned to head back to his office, his commbadge gave a quiet chirp.  He tapped it, opening a channel.  "K'Tan here."

"It's ensign King, on bridge duty."  K'Tan thought that he could almost hear a mischievous smile in the woman's voice. 

"I just thought you'd like to know, sir-- The Captain just returned to the ship.  And he's brought some interesting company with him."

D'Callan pointed towards the far turbo lift and the last of his security men obediently ran towards it. Putting his phaser into his holster he tapped his com badge.
"Bridge all security personal have been assigned to their designated area's. We have a secure ship, for the time being. D'Callan out. Computer locate Lt Commander K'Tan"
The soft voice of the computer informed D'Callan of K'Tans movement and he set off to find his friend. It didn't take him long to find the Klingon deep in thought walking towards his office.

"K'Tan, wait up"

The Klingon turned and he allowed a slight smile to appear. D'Callan ran up to him.

"Have you heard?"

K'Tan allowed the smile to broaden "Yes, the Captain is back on the ship with a visitor, this I have to...."

D'Callan cut him off "No, no mate, about Ryla"

K'Tans smile dropped "Of course i know, she lies on the slab in..."

D'Callan once again cut him off by putting a hand on his shoulder. "K'Tan my friend. She is alive"

Joint post by Jen, Startrekfanatic5 and Just X

The Captain eyed the Cooperative Queen suspiciously from behind his desk.  Her suggestion to destroy the sphere at the cost of lost crewmen, had rubbed him the wrong way. He started to speak but before he could respond to her recommendation, the Arabella shuttered violently. Quinn glanced to Sevryll and Aeric as they each stood and headed for the Ready Room door. "Status, Ensign King!" shouted Captain Quinn as they stepped onto the bridge.

"The sphere has resumed its attack. Weapons systems are back online and functioning at 90 percent."

"Red alert," Sevryll firmly stated as Nathan ordered tactical to return fire.

Quinn and Sevryll took their respective seats as Aeric claimed a position at the operations station. Aria rose from her chair in the Ready Room to see what aid she could offer, but paused in her tracks when Sairyn touched her hand. Psychic energy resonated between the two women and spilled outwards to their parents on the bridge.

Images flowed between the quartet as guarded secrets and forgotten lives were instantly revealed. Long held omissions came to light—the life Aeric led that resulted in Aria, raced before his eyes with crystal clarity as Sevryll relived the life she never led, within the span of a few heartbeats. Aria and Sairyn's own histories also played out before them—the choices that each girl had made in their lives were divulged—choices they each completely disapproved of. Then, as quickly as it has started, the link between the four faded.

Aeric squeezed his hands so tightly that his nails almost drew blood. He quickly glanced to the Commander. Her back was to him and she kept her face leveled on the viewer, but he could sense her confusion and Aeric knew without a doubt that she remembered the depths of their forgotten affiliation.

Breaking free of the Cooperative Queen, Aria raced out of the observation room,  "Captain, don't fire! N'Vall is on that ship!"

Sevryll pivoted in her chair to glance at the clone then flicked her eyes back to the screen to stare in disbelief at the ominous Borg vessel.

"Cease fire!" ordered the Captain.

"Aye, sir."

Nathan regarded his silent first officer as the red alert pulsed—intermittently drenching the bridge in a crimson light. Again, the Arabella rocked as a volley from the Borg found its target. Then without warning, the sphere slipped into the rift—an azure haze swallowing it whole before dissolving with the void. Commander Sevryll rose slowly and stepped toward the viewer. Her eyes darted about the screen, studying the vacancy that was once occupied by the cybernetic globe. Nathan watched as Sevryll jogged up the ramp to the Science Station and commandeered the terminal.  The young ensign who formerly manned the post moved away as the Chief Science Officer keyed a frantic sequence into the panel and studied the read out on the LCARS screen.

"The rift is showing serious instability," Aeric said as his mind processed what his daughter revealed.

"We have less than ten minutes before it collapses," said Sevryll in a voice that barley contained her trepidation.

The Vulcan turned expressive eyes to Captain Quinn as his telepathic mind brushed against her thoughts,  I know you want to go after your son, Sevryll...but I fear that what you will find will be devastating. Remember, his twin needs her mother too.

Quinn could feel the struggle within her—after briefly contemplating the consequences of her departure, the Commander replied slowly, "Permission to pursue the sphere."

Nathan sighed as he stood to address the svelte Vulcan.  "Granted," he said with great reluctance.

Servyll wasted no time exiting the bridge. She strode with purpose into the turbolift and turned to face the officers who watched her go. As the door swept closed she met Aeric's eyes for the first time. Though her face showed no emotion, her eyes conveyed volumes. Before the lift spirited her to her destination, she saw him nod in understanding—he would care for M'rynn in her absence.

Aeric rubbed his arm where Sairyn's injection tube had entered him. When his daughters decided to go after N'Vall, he had done what he needed. He had Rory prep the Aurora for an extended mission and then surrendered control to Aria. While she, Sairyn, and Sairyn's attendant finalized the preparations for departure, Aeric made his to the forward observation room. He needed to gather his thoughts before retrieving Beth and M'Rynn.

The Captain and his eldest child had only been back aboard for a few minutes when the Borg fled with their crew and N'Vall. Aria was handling the situation well and did not hesitate to be there for her mother. As much as he wished to travel with them, his duties required them to stay on the Arabella. There was a entire ship of people depending on him and he would not let them down.

So many emotions raced through his head as the lift moved. He and Sevryll needed to have a very personal conversation, but circumstances and duty would keep that from happening until they returned. He and Sairyn had much to discuss as well, but again his needs would have to be set aside.

Aeric looked out at the shimmering rift and saw it for the first time. He could see the interactions of subspace that caused the rift and his daughter's hand at maintaining it. It was as if he had lived in a monochromatic and suddenly he could see color.

Aeric's mind reached out to the rift and the tears in the fabric of the universe that created it. He could see the threads attempting to repair themselves even as Sairyn's power disrupted it. She was failing in her attempts, but he saw how to help.

Aeric drew upon his nacene heritage and grasped at the threads. Blood trickled from his nose as he extended himself in ways that he had never dreamed of doing. Aeric focused his thoughts on keeping the rift open and giving his family time to leave.

"James to Quinn," Aeric said after tapping his communications badge. "I don't understand how I am doing it, but I think I can extend the longevity of the rift. I can buy the Aurora an additional half hour to get out of here. After that, they are on their own."

Joseph watched K'Tan lean against the wall, the Klingon's brow raised slightly and looked back at D'Callan, Joseph nodded, no words were needed the two friends knew each other well enough. Patting the Klingon's shoulder Joseph turned.

"Where you heading?"

Stopping Joseph turned. "Think i may go check on Susan, she.... well you know. You?"

K'Tan smiled. "Think I'll go for a walk. Got something to show you later"

K'tan turned walked off, Joseph watched him before returning to thoughts of Susan. He headed to the turbo lift and stopped to look through a view port window and watched the stars. His family had long been dead and his brother was out there on a mission. Suddenly a distant memory popped back into his head. Theran's mission and Sevryll. The two were connected. He'd first decided not to say anything and had put his report on a PAD in case he lost his life. Putting his head against the glass he closed his eyes, should he say something, was this the right time. he took a deep breath and tapped his com badge.

"Computer locate Se..........Susan Caine"

Joint post by Jen, Just X, and Startrekfanatic5

"I don't see the necessity in preparing this craft," Sairyn said softly from her seat at the Aurora's secondary console. "We can easily arrange transport back to my universe, my attendant has safely returned already."

Aria, dressed in a black rank-less version of the Starfleet uniform, sighed.  Twin daggers, the ones that had been a gift from her father, were holstered near the small of her back as backup to the pulse phaser on her side. She did not feel that this was an issue up for debate. "I understand that you have your fleet, but this ship has an important place in our family. M'Rynn and N'Vall found safety here on numerous occasions. It's home and it's also designed to combat the Borg of our universe."

"I am quite versed in combating the Borg," Sairyn replied. She had been a part of the design of the ship. Much had changed since those initial designs, but the lines of the runabout's form was one of the last projects that she had worked on. "I am also somewhat familiar with the concepts behind this ship. I concede that mother would do well by having a part of her life with her while we recover our brother."

"I can't help but worry about what might be happening to him," Aria said.

"Given his age, it is probable that he has been provided minimal implants and placed into a maturation chamber. I have no doubt that we will be able to safely remove the implants, but I am concerned about potential aging issues. His recovery will be a priority of the Borg Cooperative."

Aria shivered at the name. "You claim to be distant from the Borg, but you use their name to identify yourself. It's a name of fear. How does that help your people?"

"It doesn't," Sairyn conceded. "We are not the Borg. We do not operate like them. We are here to bring order to the universe and protect those that cannot protect themselves. In a way, we are more like our Nacene ancestors than the Borg. We are more protectors and caretakers than locusts."

"So why do you call yourself the Borg Cooperative?"

Sairyn thought on it for a long moment then transmitted a new command to her people. " You're right, we shouldn't. Call us Caretakers, for it is what we are."

Sairyn and Aria turned to see Commander Sevryll step through the door of the Aurora. She was outfitted in a black jump suit. On her hips she wore a hand phaser, a tricorder and a pattern enhancer.  On her back she carried an equipment kit, a phase rifle and a pack of clothing. In her right hand, Sevryll carried a case that housed her violin...the only means she had, for suppressing emotion. Their mother was effectively geared for combat, and logically prepared for a prolonged sojourn.  She wordlessly stored her baggage in the stowage bay then carefully secured her instrument case in an nearby alcove.

As Sevryll stood to approach the cabin, she felt a stab of pain in her upper back and looked up to see Sairyn standing before her.  "STOP IT!" shouted Aria as she leapt from her seat to break the Borg-like connection between 'Sairyn the Caretaker' and her mother.  An instant later, Sevryll's wide Terossick eyes reverted to their natural color as did her skin and hair.  Its length poured down her back in raven waves and the long, tapered ears that rose above the crown of her head, quickly became the delicate sensory organs of a Vulcanoid.

"I wanted to see my mother as she appears naturally. Our brother will also be comforted by her true form," Sairyn said and retracted the tubes, forgetting that this Sevryll had not actually raised her in the current time line.

"You should have asked her permission," Aria replied coolly.

"I am a Queen. We are not accustomed to asking for permission. No offense was intended." Sairyn said and looked slowly over the restored form of her mother. "When did you and father decide to have more children? I assumed that you would never get over your past."

Sevryll studied her hands, marveling at the transformation she had undergone. Then she flicked her gaze to the young woman as the visions she experienced on the bridge spilled once more into her carefully guarded thoughts. Sevryll started to speak, but thought better of it and moved to the cabin to continue pre-flight preparations. After a moment of awkward silence, she quietly answered Sairyn, "As I've mentioned before, the sum of my experiences in this timeline has altered me—I am no longer the mother you remember. And," she paused as she pondered the carefully worded sentence, "there was no past to remember until now—I do not know how to process it —and therefore cannot answer your question."

Sairyn nodded to herself before continuing, still refusing to take in account that her mother did not actually give birth to her. Part of her hoped that she could restore the family she lost even if it included the cloned twin that she never asked for and the other part ignored that which she found unpleasant. "After we save my brother, will you consider staying on for a while? I wish my mother to be present during my delivery and I could use your assistance in helping my universe."

Sevryll had no intention in staying if she was fortunate enough to save N'Vall— prolonging the trauma her son no doubt experienced, would not be in his best interests. But now was not the time to inform Sairyn that—Sevryll required her help and risking "the queen's" anger would not accomplish the commander's only goal. Sevryll's hands continued to dance over the panel as she and Aria worked to ready the runabout. Sairyn had mentioned a delivery, was she expecting a child? Sevryll paused and glanced up at the young woman standing at her side. "Your...delivery?" She inquired in an even tone.

Sairyn smiled her loveliest smile and looked down at Sevryll, "Yes mother, I am, with a daughter born of two powerful bloodlines. You and father will be grandparents. She will be a princess among my people."

Aria simply stared at the woman she was slowly coming to see as her elder sister then activated her own machines to begin the slow process of returning her natural appearance. "Was this by choice? I can't see myself becoming a mother any time soon."

Sairyn nodded, "You know as well as I that the machines in our body prevent any pregnancies that we do not allow. As you pointed out, we are not the Borg, we welcome the diversity that new life brings to our harmony."

Sevryll was barely fifty years old—a young woman in Vulcan terms— her daughters by comparison were babies. A  strand of dark hair hid her arched brow. She pushed the behind her ear and turned back to the panel. Sevryll found the news abrupt, but so was Sairyn and her reemergence. It was difficult to know how to respond to the young woman's fulminant manner. She cautiously addressed the smiling woman, "I am...pleased, daughter." She paused breifely, glancing to Aria first and then to Sairyn, "are you bonded?"

Sairyn shook her head softly. "No mother, but it wasn't as if you were bonded when I was conceived. I will have the entirety of my people to help me raise my daughter. The presence of her father isn't needed. I would also hate to pull Nathan from his duties with Starfleet to be her father. I will speak of him to her and should she ever wish to meet him, I would be honored to arrange it."

"You and the Captain?" Aria's eyes grew wide at the revelation and the shock was obvious on her face. He was one that she would have never chosen to take as a mate.

Sairyn nodded, "We were quite intimate during his visit to my vessel. I would also ask that this not be mentioned to father for the time being. He can be quite protective at times."

"Obviously not protective enough," Aria added under her breath as brought the departure sequence to the ready.

With the preparations complete, Sairyn reached out with her mind in search of Captain Quinn. They needed to have a very personal conversation about the child that they were now expecting.

Joint post by Startrekfanatic5 and Just X

As the runabout Aurora cleared the shuttlebay and headed in the direction of the slowly closing rift, Sairyn ran a hand through her hair. She quiet extended her mind back towards the Arabella.

Nathan, I am glad that you are back home, but there are things that you must know. Sairyn projected. In our connection, a part of you remained with me. We are going to be the parents of a very special little girl. One that I will not deny in knowing what a great man her father is.

Quinn felt nausea as these words sank in, his legs began to shake as he staggered back and fell into the Captain's chair. He looked up one last time to see the rift close in a brilliant flash of light.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" he cried out loud as a tear slide down his cheek.

End of Season Eight