1. Raid on Dysis

_ Alliance Royal Armada_  
  
After the Caradssian/Klingon Alliance destroyed and conquered the Terran Empire the Mirror Universe finally seemed at peace. Unknown to either party was that someone else had ideas of conquering on their mind.  
While the Alliance was busy with the Terrans the Romulan Star Empire took this time to quietly build their forces, and develop technology.  
Six months after the fall of the Terran Empire a battle group consisting of over a dozen Romulan Warbirds crossed into Alliance territory and destroyed crucial shipyards at Tau Ceti and Sigma IV. In response to this, a fleet of Alliance warships destroyed one of the Romulans border colonies, Galorndon Core.   
The war continued for several months and the Alliance fleet was losing more ships by the week. In need of support the Alliance signed a treaty with several species to help aide the war front. With their new allies the war has begun to turn in favor of the Alliance.  
To ensure victory over the Romulan Empire Regent Worf has selected specific vessels from the fleet to make up his elite Royal Armada. With the power of these vessels and the dedication of the warriors who serve on them victory seems almost assured.  
  
_Chapter One: Raid on Dysis  
__  
_Mission  
The Hek'Tu and Kor'Jaq have rendezvoused with two other K'Vort class bird-of-preys and are ordered to check out rumors of a possible Romulan supply base on the planet of Dysis, near the border. Destroy any hostiles quickly and get out.  
Mission Date:  
183rd day in the 2368th year of Molar.  
  
"This is captain Koltarn of the Kor'Jaq signaling the other ships, respond."  
"Pahr'q, of the Vor'Neh responding."  
"Dornaq, of the Orin'Ma responding."  
"Chen'Dra, of the Hek'Tu responding."  
"It looks like our Regent has begun to follow any lead we've got on a Romulan presence near the border. This being the third base hunt of the week. Lets just hope this one is more successful then the previous two."  
"Have you gone cowardly on us Koltarn? With my Vor'Neh here this little raid can end in no other way then victory!"  
"Getting cocky eh? Well I wouldn't crack any barrels yet my old friend. We don't even know if there is a base at all on Dysis."  
"Trust me Koltarn, when the day ends we will all drink blood wine until we can no longer stand!" replied Pahr'q as laughs emanated from all four vessels.  
"We shall see Pahr'q, we shall see."  
"Let's get back to business gentlemen. Where exactly is this base located at?"  
"Well if you had read the briefing thoroughly you'd know Dornaq. At the end of this crevasse is a low basin, on the side of a mountain. The base will be located here. Now lets cut this nonsense and get to it. I want radio silence until we arrive." bellowed Koltarn. "For the glory of the empire!" The phrase was repeated by the other three captains before signing off. Now that they were nearly there Koltarn needed the silence to focus on the mission ahead.  
Though he was confident, he couldn't help thinking of the two previous raids of the week. The first had been an attack on the Romulan shipyards at Heyati II. Unknown to the Alliance was that hours before the fleets arrival a group of nearly two dozen D'Deridex class warbirds had been dispatched to the shipyards. Three Negh'Vars, two Breen Warships, and five Galor class cruisers had been lost that day.  
The other raid had been an attack on Lacaran, a planet near the Ferengi border. The Romulans had built a weapons factory there and were constructing orbital weapon platforms for their various colonies. While the objective had been achieved and the factory turned to rubble a squadron of D'Kora class marauders were lost as well. Koltarn tightened his fist; he would make the Romulans pay for the destruction they had caused.  
He reviewed the readout of the base once more. The supplies rumored to be warehoused here could supply three whole systems. This was one of the furthest outposts from the Romulan home world and as such wasn't as well guarded. There were no reports of any warbirds within five systems and most of those had taken up defensive positions along the border. This shouldn't be hard at all, especially for four war generals onboard some of the best constructed strike cruisers in the fleet. Pahr'q was right, there would be celebrations throughout the empire tonight.  
Koltarn took a sip from his drink as he sat in his leather captain's chair. It had been several hours since the four Klingon ships had arrived on this remote world, and there hadn't been any sign of Romulan presence whatsoever. It almost seemed that not a rock, nor blade of grass had moved at all since their arrival.  
He arose from his chair and slowly walked over to the map of the surrounding area. There were three basins all matching the criteria set for the supposed location of the base. Koltarn scrutinized all three locations trying to find some hint as to which location they should proceed to.  
"Helmsman, set course for coordinates one-four-six by two-eight-seven, maximum impulse." he said with a dry smile on his face.  
"Sir?" the helmsman said with a look of puzzlement on his face.  
"Something about that basin sets it off from the rest, it has an odd look to me. If my gut is right we'll find Romulans there."  
"Very well sir. Inputting course and speed."  
The hum of the engines grew louder for a moment as the ship took to movement. After one last look at the map Koltarn turned around and sat back in his chair. Though the comfortable chair relaxed him he knew that the rest of the crew had become very tense, as they should. The Romulans had proven to be a most challenging opponent, even if they did lack courage or honor.  
The war had been going on for well over eight years now and there didn't seem to be any end in sight. While the Klingons and their allies continued to build and engage, the Romulans had an advantage that shifted the war for them. The cloaking device, the one thing in the Romulans possession that gave them any hope of winning this bloodbath. Curse the alliance's arrogance! If only they had seen this threat before. Back in those times though they were to busy with the pathetic Terrans and Vulcans to give even a passing thought on the Romulan front.  
"Sir, we are arriving at the coordinates."  
"Put it on screen lieutenant." Koltarn commanded as he rose from his chair. He began to walk towards the view screen when the image appeared. "What! Where is it?" he demanded.  
"It doesn't appear to be here sir," replied the helmsman. He took a gulp as he quickly realized his error.  
"Insolent chokta!" roared the captain as he hit the lieutenant across the face, forcing him to fall onto the floor. "They're here and I know it!"  
"Sir, we are receiving a hail from the Vor'Neh."  
"Put it on the screen."  
"Well Koltarn, it looks like you've lead us right into a dead end."  
"I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas Pahr'q," the enraged captain spouted out as if a challenge to his authority had been made.  
"I didn't think you wanted help from me. After all you didn't need my help on Rigel IX, did you?"  
This only made Koltarn more infuriated. How dare Pahr'q remind him of one of the only losses in his entire military career. "Do you want a torpedo down your throat Pahr'q?" he said with a thirst for bloodshed in his eyes.  
"It won't be the first time you lost your cool Koltarn. They might strip you of command if you do again."  
That was enough to push Koltarn over the edge. Quickly he made his way over to the tactical console and pushed aside the officer before he could object. Then without a moment of hesitation he pressed the torpedo button and watched as it headed for the Vor'Neh.  
"Helm, evasive maneuvers!" shouted Pahr'q to his pilot.  
To Koltran's disappointment the Vor'Neh did a thirty degree turn and avoided the target. Before either captain could react the sound of an explosion caught the attention of the officers of both vessels. While the torpedo had missed the Vor'Neh it had hit another target, a cloaked target silently resting in the basin.  
"The Romulan base!" shouted both captains in shock and excitement. The hailing channel was quickly closed and a message was relayed to the Hek'Tu and Orin'Ma, attack!  
All four vessels turned towards where the torpedo had impacted and let forth a volley of torpedo and phaser fire. As the Romulan base came under fire the cloak became inactive and presented a base which covered the entire area. A smile came onto Koltarn's face as he saw the base being pummeled into submission.  
The fire from the four ships seemed to encircle the base, slowly cutting and pulling it apart piece by piece. A brilliant glow from the weapons fire combined with the loud sounds of the erupting fires and destruction made it appear that a great storm had descended upon the basin valley. The onslaught seemed to last for hours, when actually it passed within minutes, until there was nothing more to attack on the planet surface.  
"For the glory of the empire!" he shouted and slammed his fist down upon the console. He looked upon the once Romulan base as it lay in fire and ashes. "Looks like our mission is complete men. Relay a message of victory to the other ships."  
"Sir, we have a problem."  
"What could be wrong now?"  
"I'm reading eight Romulan fighters on approach."  
"So the Romulans haven't had enough eh? Prepare to attack!"  
"But sir, we're outnumbered two to one." spoke out an ensign with a hint of fear in his voice.  
"That just means there's twice as many for us to kill ensign!" replied Koltarn with a toothy grin.  
An image of the charred remains of the base quickly faded from the view screen and was replaced by one of the approaching eight fighters. They broke off into pairs and headed for their respective Klingon targets. The four Klingon ships broke formation and spread across the basin, like a flock of birds scrambling away, frightened by some far off noise. But these birds weren't afraid of the oncoming predators, in fact they dared the enemy to try what it may.  
The two fighters following the Kor'Jaq flew apart and tried to position their selves on either side of the ship. Their weapons charged and fired at the wings of the Klingon cruiser with near deadly accuracy.  
"Sir, we're getting pounded pretty bad sir," said the young tactical officer as consoles exploded and bulkheads began to couple.  
"Helm, full stop on my order,"  
"Are you sure you know what your doing sir?" the helmsman replied with a bit of doubt.  
"Trust me helm. Now!" the ship lurched to a stop as the two fighters whizzed past. "Now fire everything we've got at them!" A fierce barrage of pulse phaser fire went flying at the enemy ships, destroying one and knocking the second into the cliff side.  
"Eat that you pa'tahqs!" shouted the tactical officer with a smile on his face and a clench of his fist.  
"How many enemy vessels are left?" asked the captain.  
"Three. One following the Hek'Tu and two following the Vor'Neh. The Vor'Neh is under heavy fire sir."  
"Set a course to intercept the two on the Vor'Neh."  
"Aye sir." The crew felt excited from the destruction of their two followers, though they were still a bit on edge. The Kor'Jaq sped ahead and positioned itself behind the two Romulan fighters.  
"Target the fighter to the left and fire!" The Kor'Jaq opened fire once more, destroying the fighter as easily as the other two.  
"Fighter down sir."  
"Target the second one and fire at will!" said the captain with a fierce intensity in his eyes. The second fighter wouldn't go down so easily as it maneuvered around the fire dodging nearly all of it. "Hit its wing with a torpedo gunner!" With the press of a button the torpedo was launched from its bay and sent towards its target. Surrounded by a magnificent red glow the torpedo flew towards the target and impacted the fighter's wing, destroying it instantly. The blast was enough to send the wounded fighter spiraling not into the cliff as the other before, but into the wing of the Vor'Neh itself.  
The contact was enough to rip the Vor'Neh's wing in half and forcing it to spiral itself towards the ground.  
"Lieutenant, fly in and lock on a tractor beam to the Vor'Neh." said Koltarn with a hint of panic.  
"Yes sir!" The lieutenant in charge of tractor control knew that he'd only have one chance to snag the crippled cruiser, and if he missed he'd have the death of forty fellow Klingon officers on his hands.  
The Kor'Jaq zoomed ahead trying to position itself above the rapidly falling sister ship. It finally settled above the engine section of the Vor'Neh.  
"Now!" shouted the captain. The lieutenant quickly released the locking mechanism, releasing the tractor. The bluish beam quickly attached itself onto the rear of the Vor'Neh, dangling it mere meters above the basin floor.  
"Success!" roared the excited captain, while the lieutenant breathed a sigh of relief. "How many more Romulan fighters are there left tactical?"  
"None sir. The Hek'Tu and Orin'Ma have taken out the rest of the Romulan attackers."  
"Then the mission was a success. Patch me through to Pahr'q."  
"Channel open sir."  
"Well Pahr'q, looks like I just saved you from an eternity of shame."  
"Don't let it get to your head Koltarn, you were lucky." replied Pahr'q, looking bruised and tired.  
"That's right. And you just better hope I keep that luck, otherwise you might not be able to join me next time. Koltarn out." The channel closed and Koltarn set back in his chair and let out a relaxed sigh. He looked around the bridge at his crew and smiled. His crew had done well, and if this continued they would all soon earn the title of great warrior. "Helm, take us back to base. Maximum warp." 


	2. En Route to Alderok Nor

_ Chapter Two: En Route to Alderok Nor_  
  
Mission  
The Alvex and Veklar are ordered to escort a Ferengi supply convoy to space station Alderok Nor. The course travels through neutral space and the mission should be a quiet one. The convoy must reach its destination at all costs.  
Mission Date:  
196th day in the 2368th year of Molar  
  
The mission turned out to be a success and all hands came back alive despite Romulan resistance. There was much celebrating throughout the Alliance that night following the raid.  
Gul Duren placed the P.A.D.D. onto the armrest of his chair as calmly as possible as to not let his true emotions be known. The Klingons keep getting all the glory missions while most of the Cardassian fleet was ordered to convoy duty and ore processing. Above that they treat every victory as an excuse to get drunk and party until they pass out. They do not fully realize the scope of the war fronts and how close victory could be won by either side. There had to be a change in the Klingon tactics or else the flag of the Romulan Star Empire would wave on every planet in the quadrant.  
A lieutenant quickly came onto the bridge and made his way to the captain's chair before handing him a communique from the Detapa Council. They were orders for their next mission. Duren briefly looked over them before placing it aside with the first. This was no time to worry about his next mission; he still had to finish this one.   
And what a boring one it was. The Alvex and her sister ship, the Veklar, were stuck escorting five small cargo vessels all carrying one of the most annoying species he had ever met, the Ferengi. Their high nasal voices and insatiable greed was enough to make anyone put a phaser to the head of a Ferengi. But, they were allies and at this point if there was one thing the Cardassian people needed was allies.  
"Sir, one of the Ferengi vessels have stopped dead in the water."  
"Any indication why ensign?"  
"No sir. None at all."  
"Put me through to their captain." Duren shifted slightly in his chair, becoming annoyed at such a delay.  
"This is Daimon Tierzak. What can I do for you?"  
"Why have you stopped? We are scheduled to arrive at Alderok Nor in less then three hours, and if we don't arrive on time we'll have you to blame."  
"Now Duren, we are allies in this war," Tierzak said with a coy smile. "There is no need to become hostile at anyone. We simply are having a minor malfunction in our flow converter. My engineer says it'll be fixed in mere minutes."  
"Would you like me to send over an engineering team to assist you Daimon?"  
"No need Duren. The error will be fixed momentarily. Daimon Tierzak out."  
As the image disappeared off the screen Duren once again shifted in his chair. If there was one thing he hated more then the Romulans it was being late. A normal Cardassian would wonder if having incompetent allies would be worth the trouble, but not Duren. For all the faults that the Ferengi had there was a plus side to them joining the Alliance; more ships to aid on the Romulan front.  
"Ensign, put me through to Gul Lemec." Perhaps he could fill this time delay with some conversation with the Veklar's captain.  
"Aye sir. Patching you through."  
"Gul Lemec speaking. Something on your mind Duren?"  
"It's these irritating Ferengi. No matter how hard you try to teach them something they always find a way to screw things up."  
"I know exactly what you mean," Lemec said with a slight laugh. "On to other matters shall we? Have you gotten a message from the Detapa Council since we began this mission?"  
"Actually I got a communique right before the Ferengi ship stalled."  
"And what are their orders?"  
"They believe it's to soon to move against her. Plus they believe that her adopted father has some influence on her."  
"That fossil of a man? What makes Natima or the others have any faith in her? Plus she is a Terran, and we all know they can't be trusted."  
"We both know what is at stake here Lemec. For now we have no choice but to forget about it and focus on the Romulan threat."  
"Very well old friend. Lemec out."  
Duren could tell just how upset Lemec was, and he had reason to. The constant delays from the Detapa Council were only condemning the Cardassian people. For the moment though he had no choice but to follow their orders.  
"Sir, we're receiving a message from Daimon Tierzak's ship. Their flow converter has been repaired and they're ready to proceed to Alderok Nor."  
"About time," Duren said in frustration. "Tell them to engage at maximum impulse."  
"Aye sir. Message sent." Tierzak's ship lurched forward for a moment and then started a smoother flight. The cargo vessels started up and followed right behind.  
Duren checked a small clock on the arm of his chair. The whole stop had only lasted about twelve minutes so they should still arrive on time. In the mean time this would be a good opportunity to catch up on the latest war news.  
The hardest hit sectors were near a station called Kendra Alpha, a Bajoran shipyard not far from the border. Kendra Alpha was one of the Alliance's most critical shipyards and acted as a first-strike base of operations. A great deal of the Klingon and Breen fleets had been ordered near there to ward of any Romulan battle groups. Everyone in the Alliance knew that if they were to lose a station like that then victory to the Romulans was almost certain.  
As for offensive missions the Alliance seemed to have run into a struck of luck. Since a Klingon attack force had destroyed a cloaked supply base on Dysis the Alliance had lost very little. Two more Romulan colonies had been destroyed thanks to a fleet of Ferengi D'Koras and Klingon Vor'Chas. The real target, Heyati II, had still not been destroyed yet. The shipyards there were as critical to the Romulans as Kendra Alpha was to the Alliance. It would take quite a force to bring that station down.  
As far as Cardassian matters went their borders had seen little action. After the "Great Andorian Massacre" and the claim of many of their now abandoned worlds the Cardassian people had lived an almost luxurious life. The military however had felt almost worthless, as they hadn't been given a real assignment for several months. Did the Regent not know the strength of the Cardassian fleet? Did he not remember that it was the Cardassians that spilled blood along side Klingons against the Terran Empire and not the Ferengi or Breen who stayed neutral throughout the entire war? These were things Duren could only wonder about.  
"Ensign, I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me."  
"Aye sir."  
Duren got up from his chair and walked into a turbo lift adjacent to the command chair. He told the computer to head to the officer's quarters on deck eight and the turbo lift was soon on its way. As it headed to its destination he planned out what he would say when he got a hold of Natima, the head of the Detapa Council. She had been its leader ever since Gul Dukat was censured two years ago. It was Duren's belief that they needed Dukat back and to get rid of Natima, but no one had heard anything about Dukat almost since his censure.  
The turbo lift stopped and the doors opened. Duren stepped out and headed to his quarters as quickly as possible as to avoid any of his crew. He wasn't sure how they would react to seeing their captain roam the corridors during a mission. No matter though. Duren had things to attend to that the rest of the crew need not know of.  
After heading down near endless corridors Duren finally reached the comfort of his quarters. They were decorated with various works of art from some of the quadrants most renowned artists. He looked over them before sitting at his curved desk in the corner.  
"Computer, open a communication channel to the Brachta." Duren commanded as he began to rub his hands while he waited.  
"This is Daimon Tierzak. What can I do for you Duren?"  
"Is the line secure on your side Tierzak? I don't want anyone else to know of this discussion."  
"Of course, of course Duren. Is there a reason for your paranoia?" Tierzak said with a look of suspicion upon his face.  
"I think we both can understand the need for a little paranoia here. If anyone finds out what we have been discussing we could be executed."  
"Oh come now Duren. Do you really think they'd result to such a barbaric thing?" replied Tierzak with a hint of doubt at Duren's claim.  
"These ARE Klingons we're dealing with Tierzak. They don't get much more barbaric. Plus we're talking about getting rid of the Overseer, the second most powerful person in the whole Alliance."  
"And you're positive that Seven needs to be 'gotten rid of'. I mean its not like she's been feeding information to the Romulans."  
"We don't know that for sure Tierzak. If she can be so bold as to try and free the Terrans from slavery then what's stopping her from siding with the Romulans as well?"  
"You do make a good point Duren," Tierzak said placing his left hand under his chin. "But of course she is Terran after all so I can understand why she'd wish to liberate them."  
"I don't care what species she is, she was raised as a Cardassian in our finest schools. Plus on several occasions it was noted how she almost hated her true identity. It seems unlikely that she'd start something without good cause."  
"If she was as big of a threat to the Alliance as you say then the Regent would have made her step down by now."  
"You forget my friend that she is good friends with the Intendant of Sol, and we all know that she is the Regent's most trusted advisor."  
"Still though Duren. A move against her is just to risky, even if you had some pretty convincing evidence, which you don't."  
"We don't need evidence. All we need is the support of our governments. If we can convince the Detapa Council and the Grand Nagus to approach the Regent then he'll be forced to look into matters. Plus he hates Terrans just as much of the rest of us. If we can find a way to give Seven even the slightest push then she won't be able to help from falling."  
"Very well Duren, I'll see what I can do on the Ferengi part. But if there's anyway for this to be traced back to me I will make sure that your punishment is twice as worse as mine."  
"Is that a threat Tierzak? I didn't think it was profitable to seek revenge."  
"Not usually. But in your case there might just be. Tierzak out."  
As he sat back Duren wondered if seeking Tierzak's help was such a good idea. No matter though, for things were already set into motion. With any luck Seven would be forced to step down in a matter of months. Then maybe the power in the Alliance would shift towards the Cardassian people once more.  
"Captain, we are approaching Alderok Nor," the helmsman replied over the communicator.  
"Very well. Inform the Ferengi to start docking procedures. I'm on my way to the bridge." Duren rose from his chair and went to walk out of the room. This trip may have been a boring one but it had given him the time needed to set his plan into motion. 


	3. Romulan Retaliation

_ Chapter Three: Romulan Retaliation_  
  
Mission  
A group of Bajoran Assault class vessels have been dispatched to Lyca Station, a quick response base on the edge of the Klingon/Romulan border. The base must be protected from all hostiles by any means necessary.  
Mission Date:  
198th day in the 2368th year of Molar   
  
"I would really like to thank you for bringing a squadron of ships all the way here from Bajor. We both know there was no need for one of the greatest warships in the whole fleet to load them and personally deliver them."  
"It was no problem Commander T'Jal. Besides, my troops needed a stop so close to the enemy. It keeps them on their toes."  
"Of course captain." T'Jal and her Klingon friend continued to walk the corridor for some time without speaking a word. An almost worried expression came across her face before Captain Mulkrit noticed her being uncomfortable.  
"Is there a problem T'Jal?" He asked, hoping to relieve some discomfort.  
"Its just that we are so close to the Romulan border. And with all the fighting going on just a few sectors away near Kendra Alpha, I'm worried that the Romulans might attack this station."  
Mulkrit stopped walking and put his hand on T'Jal's shoulder. "There's no need to worry T'Jal. You were put in charge of this base because our superiors knew you could handle it. Besides, with me and the Sompek near by no Romulan would dare attack."  
"Maybe your right Mulkrit," she said followed by a sigh. "Its just that being in command makes me a bit nervous."  
"Don't let it bother you. I doubt there are even any Romulan vessels near the border right now. Probably still rebuilding from the two colonies that we destroyed." Mulkrit said with a grin.  
"Of course you're right as usual. It was silly for me to worry."  
"It's not silly at all. Feelings like that keep us on our toes and prepare us for any scenario that might occur. You can't let it bother you too much though."  
"I'll do that, thanks for the advice."  
"Anytime." The two turned and began to walk once more.  
"So when are you departing?" T'Jal asked.  
"In about half an hour. We are going to patrol the border between here and the Techan Nebula. The Regent is sending the fleet's best vessels out here to patrol the Romulan border."  
"Does the Regent think an attack will come soon?" T'Jal asked, sounding a bit worried again.  
"Who knows? There has been very little activity from them for several weeks, except the skirmishes near Kendra Alpha of course. There's bound to be an assault sometime soon, but all we can do is wait and watch."  
"He must believe that something will happen soon. Not only is about half the fleet out here, but all of the colonies and bases near the border have been stocked with those Bajoran Assault Ships you brought."  
"You may be right about the number of ships being sent here, but those Bajoran ships are only for border defense. They were as much Intendant Kira's idea as they were the Regent's." Mulkrit looked over and noticed that T'Jal's expression had turned from worry to almost shock. "Does something surprise you?" he asked.  
"Intendant Kira hardly ever does any active thing to support the war. I just find it hard to believe that she would give such an order, especially one that doesn't directly benefit her."  
"Maybe she has changed. I mean she hasn't exactly been her normal self since she stepped down as Overseer and appointed that Terran."  
"That was very odd indeed. She finally had all the power she wanted and then she appointed a Terran, our former enemy to replace her. It just doesn't add up." T'Jal didn't know what to think anymore. The politics involved in this war seemed ever changing without much form or control. She was glad she was only a commander and not a higher rank; it gave her less grief.  
The two walked nearly all the way around the station until they arrived at the docking clamp where the Sompek was. Mulkrit and T'Jal stood there for several moments not knowing what to say or do. After nearly an eternity Mulkrit finally spoke.  
"Well T'Jal I better get aboard. We will be leaving soon and I need to check a few things before we do."  
T'Jal didn't want her time with her friend to ever end but she knew it must. "Very well Mulkrit. Thank you for walking with me, and for the advice you gave."  
"It was the least I could do for such a lovely commander. We should be back by here in a couple of days. I'll make sure to dock here so we can do this again."  
"I would enjoy that." As she spoke T'Jal could already feel loneliness set in.  
"Until then." Mulkrit looked into T'Jal's eyes and instantly knew what she was feeling. He clasped both hands on her arms and kissed her forehead before turning and boarding the Sompek.  
As the door closed behind her friend a new wave of emotions swept over the Bajoran commander. She felt lost and perhaps even abandoned. Not knowing from where these feelings had come from she was at a loss of what to do. With a slight sigh she buried any surfaced feelings deep within herself. She was the commander of a base near the enemy border during a war. Though she was full of uncertainty she knew that being in charge meant setting a standard for her officers to follow and that's what she would do.  
After one last look at the door she turned and began walking the way she had came. An inspection of the new ships was in order before making her way back to the bridge.  
As she walked she wondered what strategy the Romulans had been planning. It wasn't like them to continue to attack the same sector of space without any near future victory in that endeavor. They must be planning something big, something that wasn't clear to her. Perhaps that was the reason for the extra deployment of vessels out here. The Regent and the other government leaders must know a secret Romulan plot is about to be unfurled.  
When she arrived at the hangar bay she was relieved to see several technicians and pilots there and inspecting the Assault class vessels. They were small and could only hold a crew of about twelve soldiers, but what they lacked in size they made up for in speed. Being quite maneuverable they could be very hard to hit with weapons fire. With that in mind they were an obvious choice vessel for base and colony defense.  
"So what do you think of them commander?" came a voice from behind her. It was so much of a surprise it almost made T'Jal jump into the air. She turned to see who had startled her.  
"Oh it's you chief," she said with a sigh of relief. "You almost gave me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that."  
"I'm sorry commander. Didn't realize that you were so jumpy today."  
"It's quite alright. I'm just having that kind of day I suppose. So what is your opinion of these ships chief?" T'Jal said trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.  
"Sleek, maneuverable, nice payload of weapons, I don't have anything to complain about."  
"So, do you believe that they could repel a Romulan attack on this base?"  
"That would be a tough battle ma'am. Though these Assault craft have a nice armament those Romulan disruptors can still pack a punch. Plus those D'Deridex class warbirds are ten times the size of these ships. Perhaps that's why the shipyards at Bajor sent us two dozen of them."  
"They did send a lot of them. Actually I'm surprised that they all fit in here." As she spoke T'Jal looked around the hangar bay, noticing its now cramped look.  
"It was a bit of a squeeze ma'am, but we got all of them in here. We are just doing one last inspection then they'll be ready for use."  
"All right chief. Keep me informed if anything changes." With that she turned and headed out the hangar bay door.  
She knew the Sompek would disembark in a matter of minutes and she wanted to see it from the vantage point of the command deck. As she headed to her destination she examined the many crewmembers that passed by her. It was amazing that a station on the Klingon border would be crewed by mostly Bajorans with a slight mix of K'Tarians, Orions, and even some Ferengi among others. T'Jal found it truly remarkable that all these races would join together for a cause, even if it was their very survival.  
When she arrived she quickly headed to the captain's chair and sat down. "Has the Sompek departed yet ops?"  
"No ma'am. They are due to leave in a few minutes though. Would you like me to open a comms channel?"  
"That won't be necessary." She calmly walked over to a nearby replicator and asked for some Raktajino. While some tried to avoid the stuff T'Jal thought it made for a very potent drink. After grabbing the warm cup she walked over to the view port that looked out upon the docking bay where the Sompek was.  
Its immense size was enough to bring terror to the hearts of its enemy. The Sompek was a Negh'Var class, the biggest and toughest ever made by the Klingons. Though it was quite powerful it was still a close battle between them and the Romulan D'Deridex class warbirds.  
She was suddenly jolted from her thoughts when she heard a beeping sound go off nearby. It was the signal to let the crew know when a ship was docking or leaving. As she looked out she saw the docking clamps release and the personnel connector detach and retract back to the base. The ship's thrusters kicked on and the ship turned away from the base. It paused for a moment, seeming like is was trying to figure out its next move. Then the warp engines activated and the ship sped off.  
After a sigh T'Jal turned from the view port and walked over to the command chair. She surveyed the command deck for a moment before sitting down. With the Sompek gone things suddenly became quiet, or at least they seemed to be. T'Jal slowly took a sip of her coffee wondering what to do next. Everything seemed so peaceful that she began to doze off in her chair. After a few moments another alarm sounded and quickly woke her up. Before she could say anything the station shook around her. Someone was attacking them!  
"What's going on ops?" T'Jal asked both startled and somewhat panicked.  
"A Romulan warbird decloaked off the port bow and opened fire."  
"Raise shields, target weapons, prepare to launch Assault Vessels and signal the Sompek!" T'Jal had been startled so much that she didn't really know what to do. Instead she spoke the first thoughts she had without any regard for what they actually were.  
"Ma'am our long range communications array and weapons system has been destroyed. Shields are up but only at thirty percent. And I'm sending a message telling the pilots to scramble to the Assault Vessels now." The ops officer tried to respond to T'Jal's quick orders but she was as shaken up as the commander. Suddenly the shaking stop.  
"What happened ops?" Asked T'Jal trying to make sense of the abrupt chaos.  
"I don't know. Wait, I'm receiving a hail from the Romulan vessel."  
"Well put it on screen." The incoming hail didn't help to relieve any of the confusion but only add to it.  
"This is Centurion Veruuk. What is your current condition?"  
"Well considering you were just attacking us, a little bruised but nothing serious." She knew that things were much worse but she didn't want the Romulans to know that. "I'm more curious as to why you're hailing."  
"Ah yes, skip to business. Very well. My superiors have asked that I refrain from destroying this installation so that we may capture it and use its databanks to plan the end of the war."  
"You realize that we will not let this base fall into enemy hands. We will fight till our last breathe to do so." Suddenly T'Jal's panic and worry were transformed into defiance, the likes of she had never felt before.  
"Of course. You Klingon lapdogs never make anything easy. If that's how you wish for things to play out then that's how they shall. If I were you though I would dust off the carpets for our boarding parties."  
"Pardon me Veruuk, but unless you have some kind of super weapon aboard then you won't be successful in your mission."  
"Is that so? That is a pretty bold statement coming from a defenseless base without any functioning weapons."  
"Our weapons may not be functioning but we aren't totally defenseless. As you and I speak we are launching two-dozen Assault class vessels. And I don't care how powerful your warbird is, it won't last long against my fleet." T'Jal felt like she had just conquered the enemy with one single sentence. It almost made her wish that Veruuk was standing beside her so that she could laugh right in his face.  
"So Bajoran, you have a trick up your sleeve. I must congratulate you for trying to outwit me. However your celebration will be short lived, for I too have a trick up my sleeve." Veruuk pushed a button on the arm of his chair and for a moment it had seemed like a useless thing to do.   
Its use would become apparent however as eight more D'Deridex class warbirds decloaked in strategic strike positions around the base. "Let us see if this doesn't even the score a bit," Veruuk said with a smug, superior look. "May the spoils go to the victor." And with that the communications channel was closed.  
T'Jal's heart sank as she realized how premature her assumption of victory was. The feeling didn't last long though because the station soon shook once more with the impact of weapons fire. "Are all of the Assault Vessels launched ops?"  
"Yes ma'am. Ships are launched and engaging hostiles."  
"Put the battle on screen." As the view screen activated it showed a fierce battle taking place outside of the base. T'Jal and the others couldn't help but feel helpless as they watched their brothers and sisters at arms fight.  
The Assault Ships were small and quick compared to their mighty aggressors, but that didn't stop them from being shot to pieces. It was like watching a group of rodents trying to take down a great bird. After nearly a third of them were destroyed they decided to concentrate their efforts on a single target. The surviving ships formed a small sphere and dove at one of the warbirds, unleashing an entire payload of weapons fire at the front of the vessel, near its command center. As the last torpedo collided with its target a small explosion ignited. As the warbird teetered the explosion soon grew until the entire vessel was set in flames.  
"Yes! They got one!" Shouted T'Jal in excitement as she shook her fist. In the midst of her joy the station once again shook from being hit. This time though it was different. It was a much harder force that shook the station to its core.  
"Ma'am, we've lost shielding in most of the lower decks. I'm detecting multiple boarding parties beaming aboard."  
"This is Commander T'Jal to the rest of the station. We are being boarded. Any available personnel head to the nearest weapons locker and fend off any and all Romulans. Commander out." She grabbed a couple of phaser rifles from under a panel and distributed them to the rest of the command crew. "Ops, I want you to set the station for auto-destruct. Set the timer for five minutes, silent countdown."  
"Ma'am?" The ops officer had a worried look on her face, the same look T'Jal had earlier.  
"You heard me. We can't let this base fall into enemy hands and they are beaming over dozens of boarding parties. Our forces may be tough but we can't fight them off forever."  
"Yes ma'am. Setting auto-destruct." The ops officer looked fearful and almost sad as she spoke.  
Her feelings were understandable. They were the same that T'Jal had at that moment. She knew that her time was nearly up, and that she'd never see her home or friends again. Never again smell the fields of Bajor or hear the laughter of children. And she would never see her dear friend Mulkrit again. This was what had to be done though. To protect those fields and those children from the grasp of the Romulans. Tears began to gather in her eyes but all she could do is wipe them on her sleeve and prepare to meet her demise.  
Meanwhile the Assault Vessels continued to fight with ever drop of courage they had inside of them. A second warbird had met the same fate as the first and a third was now being hit with every weapon the ships had. There was only a small handful of them left now but that didn't matter, they still fought with the same intensity they had at the start of the bloodbath.  
In the command center a door suddenly opened and shots from Romulan disruptors came from behind it. T'Jal ducked down behind the ops panel and fired several shots from where the disruptor fire had come from. She could hear the dying screams all around her but she didn't know whether they belonged to Romulans or to her crew. Suddenly a disruptor blast hit the panel near T'Jal. As it exploded T'Jal and her ops officer were flown back. A throbbing pain came to her head as the room suddenly grew quiet. She opened her eyes to see a disruptor pointed at her face. An arm grabbed her and tossed her aside along with the rest of the surviving command crew.  
"Consider yourselves prisoners of war," a voice said.  
So the Romulans had captured most of the base. It didn't matter though because their fate was already sealed.  
"Centurion Veruuk, we have succeeded in capturing the base."  
"Very good work troops. The last of the Bajoran ships have been destroyed. Once you have secured the base I will transport over to tour it. Also I want a crew to start work on extracting the stations computer database as soon as possible."  
"Very well centurion." The troop suddenly stopped talking and walked over to T'Jal. "What are you laughing at Bajoran?" he asked.  
"You won't have time to do anything to this station. Your wretched life will end before anything can be accomplished." T'Jal looked over to a counter on the wall and started to weakly laugh again.  
The Romulan soldier turned to look at where her attention was. Fear came to him as he realized what she meant. "Centurion, this base is about to self-destruct."  
"Then deactivate it soldier." Came Veruuk's voice as though he was stating the obvious.  
"We can't sir, the controls were destroyed during the fight to capture the command center."  
As the counter began to countdown from ten T'Jal felt at peace. Though her actions had spelled out her own death it had saved the lives of countless Alliance citizens. She continued to laugh as the count ended. All she could think about was the talk she had with Mulkrit earlier in the day, and how much she had just hurt the Romulans. As she closed her eyes she could smell fields of wheat. She strained her hearing to listen as the sounds of children laughing came from all around.  
The base was quickly encircled with light as an explosion blew the entire station apart. The wave engulfed two of the warbirds and sent a third crashing into another. For sectors around a brilliant explosion could be seen and a loud bang emanated from it. The chaos lasted for what seemed like minutes upon end until finally the light dimmed and silence arrived. 


	4. The Kresh'nar Ambush

_ Chapter Four: The Kresh'nar Ambush_  
  
Mission  
The Tzlih has been ordered to scout the Kresh'nar Nebula near the Cardassian/Romulan border. There have been reports of high amounts of dilithium present inside the nebula. If these reports are true then orders are to retrieve as much of the dilithium as possible and prevent the Romulans from getting any.  
Mission Date:  
199th day in the 2368th year of Molar  
  
"Scan sector twenty-six for any traces of dilithium lieutenant," came the captain's orders.  
"I'm not detecting any dilithium there either sir. Not even a single molecule." The lieutenant went over the scans a second time to make sure he hadn't missed anything. After verifying that he was right he looked at his commander and shook his head.  
"Very well. Helm, take us to sector twenty-seven. Once we arrive begin scanning as soon as possible lieutenant."  
"Aye sir," came the quick, trained response.  
The impulse engines activated, propelling the warship forward. The forward section almost acted like a knife, slicing its way through the murky green nebula. The nebula was a barren wasteland that was completely empty, save for a blue planetoid located near the center. It was this planetoid that had gotten the Alliance's interest. While a new source of dilithium seemed unimportant to an ordinary soldier, the more experienced knew that they needed every resource they could find. That and ensuring that the Romulans didn't get their hands on it.  
This war seemed like it would last forever. Six years since the Breen had joined the Alliance and what did they have to show for it? Did they have new technology, safety from their enemies, or even expansion of their territory? No, of course not. They had gained nothing and lost nearly everything. The glorious shipyard at Tectonia Prime was the most prized possession in all of Breen history, but now it was forever lost. Nearly half of the Breen's fleet had been destroyed as well. And soldiers numbering well into the hundreds of thousand were gone too.  
Why were they even fighting this war? Protection from the Romulans? In all of the Breen's stellar history the Romulans had not attacked a single vessel. They were the problem of the Klingons and Cardassians when this god-forsaken war had begun. The Romulans had no interest in the Breen at all. They could have lived in peace with the Romulans and no bloodshed would have come between them.  
But of course the military leaders had delivered such an immaculate speech that made every person on the home world stand up and beat the drums of war, everyone including himself. What a fool he had been. What fools they had all been. He could still recall some of the top war general's speech.  
"I call upon all of you, my friends, my brothers, my fellow patriots. The Romulans have begun to tear through our galaxy on a quest for domination of us all. I know what you are thinking. Why should we join the Klingons and Cardassians in this near hopeless conflict? Because we are Breen! And because we are a people of war! With our help the Romulan threat will be easily defeated. Then and only then will we be able to live in peace. Are you with me?" The crowd had instantly roared with approval.  
Lies, they were all lies. They had been too confident and they had paid the ultimate price for their arrogance. Tons who had cheered that day no longer could, including the general who started them on this path. With the deaths of these individuals came a line of new soldiers, who yearned to avenge the lives of their fallen brethren. Everyone that had survived these past six years did so with heavy hearts, and pieces of their being missing.  
"Sir, we are arriving at sector twenty-seven," spoke up the helmsman, jolting Captain Zelbreghn from his thoughts.  
"Very well. Lieutenant, begin scanning immediately for any trace of dilithium."  
"Aye aye sir." Almost instantly the officer began punching buttons on his console, and scrutinizing the results.  
Zelbreghn tapped his gloved fingers on the side of the command chair, anxiously awaiting the scan results. He sincerely hoped that they wouldn't have to search this murky nebula for much longer. It had been three days since they had arrived at the nebula, under constant communication silence. The entire time both he and his crew were wondering how the war was progressing and if there had been a major loss to either side. Though he longed to have this mission over with he would never complain about it. No, that was only something a whiney Cardassian would do. They had been given orders and nothing would stop them from completing them.  
"Sir, there isn't any dilithium here either," came the lieutenant. As he spoke Zelbreghn could tell that he was growing tired of this search, as all the others probably were.  
"This random searching isn't getting us anywhere. I'm open to suggestions to where we should look next." Zelbreghn stood up and looked at each of his bridge crew, hoping one of them could produce a fruitful suggestion.  
"Well sir, perhaps we should try sector thirty-nine." It was the science officer Stremuln who spoke up. She was the only female in the bridge crew. "It's closer to the planetoid which might have brought the ore here in the first place. Stands to reason that there would be at least some dilithium around there."  
"Good idea Stremuln. Helm, set course for sector thirty-nine, maximum impulse." As the ship took off both Zelbreghn and Stremuln sat back down. Zelbreghn could only imagine the smile that Stremuln had on under her soldier helmet. She had performed her duties well and everyone knew it, even if they didn't believe a female should be there. Normally they weren't aloud to serve in the military, forced to stay home and tend to children among other things. During the war though they had lost too many soldiers to continue with that practice.  
Many things had changed during the war. That is one of the certainties that come from war, change. Each soldier seemed to not know what was going to happen from one day to the next, but they did know that somehow it would change them and the world around them. When it came down to it war was just a test. A test of each person's ability to live and grow and change while still being able to stand firm and accept the barrage of confusion and panic that was thrust upon them. Anyone that can accomplish this survives the day and ends up truly victorious in the end.  
This was the code of a warrior, soldier, or whatever title that was chosen to be used. It was not something that anyone with a sane mind would want to do, but it was what must be done.  
As they reached their destination the ship slowed to almost a creep. The humming of the engines dulled and the slight vibrations of a ship in flight ceased. They had arrived at sector thirty-nine. It was unremarkable and looked like a cloud of green gas, the same as the rest of the nebula.  
"Begin your scans lieutenant," Zelbreghn suddenly said after a seeming eternity of silence. "I want as thorough of a scan as you can get. Don't miss a single speck of that nebula."  
"Of course sir. Beginning scans now." The lieutenant pressed the console buttons as fast as he could to try and hurry up the process. He held his breathe the entire time hoping that they would find what they were looking for so they could collect it and leave the dreadful place. Suddenly a beeping sound came from the console and an indicator pointed to an area with a positive match. "Sir!" came the eager lieutenant. "I believe I have found some dilithium."  
"Good work lieutenant. Tell me how much of it and where to pick it up at."  
"It looks like there's about five isotons of ore at coordinates four-three-seven by two-eight-six."  
"Put those coordinates on screen lieutenant." Seconds later the screen switched images from an empty green haze to a green haze with a large blue rock floating in it. "Good work lieutenant." With the sight of the rock came the completion of their long and tiresome mission.  
"Sir, my long range scans have found several dozen more rocks of ore spread out in the nearby sectors."  
Zelbreghn put his hand under his chin in thought for a moment. There was too much ore for them to carry back, but they couldn't abandon it with the threat of Romulans nearby. "We'll have to head out of the nebula and go to the nearby processing facility at Empok Nor and get some backup to help us out. I want that chunk out there beamed aboard. After that is done set course for the edge of the nebula."  
The officers made quick work of their orders and beamed the ore onboard as quickly as transporters would allow. As soon as the transporter room verified that the ore was safely onboard the helmsman punched in the coordinates for the nebula's edge and told the ship to engage. With the slightest of noise the ship did a near one-eighty degree turn followed by the activation of engines.  
As they got under way Zelbreghn could feel the crew's mood improve almost instantly. His crew was not trained for such small and uneventful tasks. They were soldiers, trained to fight and fight well. After they came back for the last of the ore he would request that they were given a combat mission next. A small base or outpost which could be easily destroyed by this crew, but would provide them the satisfaction of a real victory.  
The ship slowed to nearly a stop when they reached the edge of the nebula. It began to slowly creep across, almost as if it didn't want anyone else to know it was leaving. When the ship was clear of the nebula it came to a stop.  
"Helm set course for Empok Nor and..." Zelbreghn was interrupted as the ship suddenly shook. Instinctively he looked to his tactical officer. "How many are there?" He asked, knowing what had just hit them.  
"One D'Deridex class warbird off our port bow. Another one is incoming from starboard at maximum impulse."  
Two warbirds. Even with a full payload of weapons Zelbreghn knew they were outgunned. The battle would be a tough one, and it would probably destroy them. There was no way that they would run, but they couldn't commit a suicide attack and lose this nebula to Romulan control. Only one clear choice came to his mind.  
"Helm, take us back into the nebula." Zelbreghn clenched his fist trying to come up with a battle strategy.  
"Sir?" The helmsman asked with a puzzled tone.  
"That nebula contains high amounts of trielxlide. Trielxlide has a property that prevents ships from raising shields and blocks most sensor scans. We have the best chance of winning this battle if they are blind."  
"But won't we be as crippled as them sir?" The helmsman persisted.  
"Are you forgetting that we are Breen?" Zelbreghn said turning the helmsman's doubts back on himself. "We are soldiers, and we will prevail. If you still have doubts then remember who you are, who we as a people are, then you should have the confidence needed to complete this task." His speech almost seemed to be an echo of the war general's who prompted their involvement in this bloodbath. The words left a bad taste in Zelbreghn's mouth but he knew that those words were needed to boost his crew's spirits.  
"Aye sir. Heading back into the nebula. What coordinates should I input into the computer sir?" The soldier at helm spoke with a new vigor and passion that only a warrior about to engage in combat could possess.  
Zelbreghn sat in silence for a moment, trying to plan out how the battle would progress. Finally an idea came to him. "Take us to sector fifty-two."  
"The center of the nebula sir?" Doubt was beginning to creep back into the helmsman's voice.  
"You heard me helm. The deeper we go in then the deeper they will have to come to get us. Plus there will be more of this nebula surrounding them so there will be a better chance for us to sneak up on them."  
"Very well sir. Setting course for sector fifty-two, maximum impulse."  
The ship lurched forward towards its destination. Without any notice the ship shook for just a second then stopped. A stray torpedo had passed by them, a reminder that the Romulans were on their tail. It didn't matter though, the odds that the Romulans could hit them at this distance was very high. In order for a successful hit both ships would have to be practically right on top of each other. That's why they needed this nebula. So they could strike at the Romulans before they could strike back. The ship slowed to a halt as they reached their destination.  
"What do we do now sir?" asked the helmsman once again.  
"We wait soldier. We wait for the Romulans to come and meet their death."  
They sat there as silent as possible, not even taking a loud, deep breath. The Romulans were on their way and the whole ship knew it. All they could do was sit and wait, wait for the fierce battle that was sure to ensue.  
Zelbreghn knew that a one on one battle would be a tough one, but if the second warbird came then they would be done for. They needed a plan to quickly take one out before it could signal its sister ship. An idea suddenly came to mind. "Stremuln, what type of probes do we have on board?"  
"Just your standard signal-relay ones. How come sir?"  
"Just the type we need. I want you to prepare to launch one."  
"I take it you have a plan sir. Mind sharing it?"  
"We are going to lay down a probe here and then take a position two-hundred kilometers above it. Once there we can tie our sensors into the probe and use it as an extra sight. When the Romulans pass by here the probe will pick them up and send a signal back to the ship letting us know their position. Then all we do is sweep down and hit it with everything we've got, destroying it before they realize what's going on."  
"That's ingenious sir," Stremuln said with excitement in her voice. "I'm going to need lieutenant Menlezk to help me with a few modifications, then she'll be ready to launch."  
"Very well, but be quick about it. We don't know how long it will be until one of those warbirds arrive." Zelbreghn eased back in his chair as Stremuln and the lieutenant manning the sensors left the bridge, heading to the probe bay. If this idea worked then not only would they defeat the Romulans but also they would all be proclaimed heroes.  
Zelbreghn began tapping his fingers on his armrest as he anxiously awaited the readiness of the probe. After several minutes Stremuln and Menlezk came back onto the bridge and returned to their stations.  
"Its ready sir." Stremuln said as she sat back down at her station.  
"Very good work you two. Launch the probe and take us up to a position exactly two-hundred kilometers above the probe." A hatch underneath the ships opened and a small metallic sphere floated out. As soon as the probe was nestled in it's position the Tzlih started to ascend up into the foggy nebula.  
Time almost froze as they waited for one of the Romulan ships to pass by the probe. Their sensors had been tied in with the probe using a signal piggyback, which worked similar to an old radar. The only noise that was present on the bridge was a repeating beeping sound coming from the sensor console. After several agonizing minutes passed by the beeping noise quickened and a dot appeared on the sensor readout screen. It was one of the warbirds, and it had just crossed into the kill zone.  
"Helm take us in, slowly. Tactical prepare to launch everything we've got at them." For the first time since this mission had started Zelbreghn was excited. He was a soldier, trained to kill his enemy, and that's what he thrived on the most.  
The Tzlih crept as slowly as possible on the Romulan ship, like a Telrakian owl descending upon a field mouse. As it did the dark green nebula parted as slowly as possible and drifted to either side of the Breen warship. When the gas in front of them had passed by an image of the rear of a Romulan warbird appeared on the view screen.  
"Fire!" Zelbreghn shouted with all the power he could muster.  
Several torpedoes flew from their launchers and struck the warbird's port nacelle. After a few shots from their phasers the nacelle was ripped to shreds, tearing it and the surrounding bulkhead apart. A light green stream of particles spewed from the remaining nacelle fragments. All of a sudden the ship began to spin, whether from only having one nacelle or from the force of the explosion Zelbreghn was not sure. With a quick barrel roll the ship disappeared deeper into the nebula.  
"Follow them, then finish them off," commanded Zelbreghn. The order had barely left Zelbreghn's lips when suddenly the ship shook around him. "What's going on tactical?"  
"Sir, the second warbird has appeared behind us and is firing it's payload."  
"Helm, turn us around so that we can stare right down the throat of that gesh'mona! Tactical, fire all weapons! Port, aft, starboard, I don't care just get that ship out of my sight!" A fiery rage was in the captain's tone; he would make them pay for harming his ship.  
As the Tzlih turned it was hit by several disruptor blasts, one that tore the ship's left wing clean off. Without any warning all of the Tzlih's weapon launchers targeted the Romulan warbird and unleashed a volley of fire the likes that had only been known in long ago stories. The Tzlih's phaser fire concentrated on trying to sever the mighty ship's wings off while the torpedoes were aimed at the vessels forward section. Both ships exchanged fire for several seconds until the Romulan ship no longer could. Fires erupted from all over the ship's outer plating until it no longer could withstand it. The ship exploded into a brilliant ball of fire.  
"Yes! Take that you vile things!" came the tactical officer. Several more retorts came from the other bridge officers until Zelbreghn silenced them.  
"Don't celebrate just yet my fellow soldiers. We still have another enemy to take out. Anyone know how to find our wounded prey?"  
"I noticed it was leaking neutrinos from its damaged nacelle. We could use our scanners to search for them."  
"Another great idea Stremuln. Menlezk, begin scanning for neutrinos right away. Tactical, be prepared to fire everything we got in our torpedo tubes at the Romulan ship. I want them dead!" As he waited for the scans to be completed Zelbreghn tightened his gloved fist before relaxing in his chair. It took only but a moment before Menlezk spoke.  
"Sir, I think I've found them."  
"Where at soldier?" Zelbreghn sat back up in his chair, eager to finish off the Romulans.  
"Yes I'm sure of it," Menlezk said in a confirming tone. "There is a cluster of neutrinos in sector forty-six."  
"Helm set course for sector forty-six, maximum impulse!"  
"Aye sir!" The helmsman used the same tone as everyone else, showing that he was just as eager as the rest of them.  
As Zelbreghn sat there he couldn't help but notice that the engines seemed to hum a little louder then before. He laughed to himself for a moment, it appeared that the ship was as eager as the rest of them. After all it was a warship, made to kill, slaughter, and maim. And it had served him well during this mission.  
The waiting didn't last long and they soon arrived at their wounded prey. The ship looked like an injured bird trying ever so hard to make some use out of a broken wing. As the neutrino particles spewed from the destroyed nacelle the ship spun violently. Whether they were attempting to turn or run no one could be sure of. Crippled or not they were the enemy, and it was their job to kill them.  
"Take us within four-hundred kilometers then open fire," came Zelbreghn's cold orders. If the situation was reversed the Romulans would not hesitate to destroy them, Zelbreghn wouldn't let himself hesitate either.  
They closed in on the vessel but before they could open fire the Romulans sent a surprise of their own. Apparently the warbird's rear launchers were still active because they let forth a force that had only been dealt by its sister ship. Several torpedoes smashed into the warship's forward sections, tearing them apart like a thin piece of paper. One of the torpedoes struck near the warship's command center, causing several of the stations to explode. The first to explode was the science station, which sent Stremuln flying across the room. Her body made a hard thud before going limp.  
"Send that ship to a fiery death!" The tactical officer could barely hear the order over the loud commotion. He quickly pressed the fire button and sent a wave of torpedoes down the spine of the Romulan ship. The collision of the weapons started a cascade reaction causing the ship to explode in an awe-inspiring brilliance. A wave from the blast went flying in all directions, one such wave pounded upon the Tzlih and tossed them aside in the murky green depths. 


	5. A Dish Served Cold

_ Chapter Five: A Dish Served Cold _   
  
Mission  
In response to the recent attack on Lyca Station the Alliance is sending an attack force to destroy the Romulan shipyards at Valkor IV. By request of the Regent the task force is led by the Negh'Var Sompek and includes the Vor'Chas Dro'Vat and Ta'Coth and the Galor class vessels Alvex and Veklar.  
Mission Date:  
211th day in the 2368th year of Molar  
  
The young Klingon lieutenant stood nervously by the airlock, trying hard to stop his shaking. Whether all the fuss was being caused by fear or excitement was anyone's guess. There was only one thing that would cause this reaction out of a battle-hardened warrior; only the presence of one person could force such a response. That person was the leader of the Alliance itself, Regent Worf.  
The Regent hardly ever left the safety of the Alliance flagship, the Negh'Var, and visited other ships even less. Usually he only visited them when they had performed very well or very poorly. The lieutenant was hoping for the former. He stood there a few minutes longer, trying to calm his nerves, before the airlock opened and the Regent stepped through.  
He was a very large warrior, both in height and muscle. A gray robe draped over him signified a high-ranking officer in the Klingon Empire. It was adorned with several medallions and markings, prizes from his many victories. As he stood there he looked at the lieutenant then looked around the bay for something.  
"Where is Commander Mulkrit?" Worf asked, staring directly at the lieutenant.  
"He is locked in his quarters, sir. He has been in there since we learned the fate of Lyca Station." The officer took a small gulp, hoping not to anger a warrior of such power.  
"Of course, the death ritual," Worf quietly muttered with some understanding. "Take me to his quarters then, lieutenant."  
"Right this way sir." The lieutenant made a gesture to follow before turning on his heel and walking out of the bay.  
Under normal circumstances the trip from the docking bay to the captain's quarters would be a quick one. So quick in fact you would hardly notice any time go by. Today's trip was different though. It seemed to drag on and become as long as it possibly could. As the Regent followed him the lieutenant still wondered why he was there. They had heard very little news since leaving the Lyca debris field and arriving at the nearby Kendra Alpha shipyard.   
It had been nearly two weeks and there hadn't been more then a few minor skirmishes with the Romulans, which surprised everyone. Everyone in the Alliance had thought the Romulan sneak attack on Lyca Station had been the first of many attacks to come, which it apparently hadn't. They were also surprised that the Regent hadn't ordered a retaliation attack on the Romulans. The lieutenant paused for a moment, could that be why the Regent was here? Was he going to order the Sompek on some dangerous mission against the Romulans? Whatever the cause he would soon find out.  
"We are here sir." The lieutenant quickly said when they finally reached the door. He snapped a brisk salute before turning on his heel and heading back down the corridor.  
The Regent stood there and frowned for a moment. These new soldiers were a little too cut-and-paste for his liking. A slight shake of his head to shrug off the notion before he stepped up to the door. It quickly slid open and revealed a dark room lit only by the dozens of candles positioned throughout the room. He stepped in and headed to an area where the candles formed into a semi-circle. Without making a sound he walked towards it and knelt beside the Klingon warrior in the light's middle.  
"I said I didn't want to be bothered," Mulkrit quietly said, trying to hide the pain he was going through.  
"Well I thought you might make an exception for me," Worf stated as he slowly closed his eyes. As he closed his eyes Mulkrit opened his and turned to see who it truly was.  
"Regent Worf! I'm sorry, I did not know it was you." Mulkrit studied the Regent's face for a moment trying to see if Worf would punish him for such an outburst.  
"It is alright Commander Mulkrit. I have gone through this ritual many times so I understand what you are going through." The Regent spoke in a calm, soothing manner, which was very uncharacteristic of him.  
"Of course Regent. Is there a reason why you have come to my ship and presented yourself here?"  
"I have some more bad news for you commander." He handed Mulkrit a P.A.D.D. Silently Mulkrit read over the report. When he finished he threw the P.A.D.D. down, nearly destroying it.  
"Are they sure sir?" He asked, dreading the response.  
"I wish it wasn't true commander, but our best search teams have been out there since we lost contact. The only thing left of the Tzlih is debris."  
First his beloved T'Jal and now his friend Zelbreghn? The Romulans would have to pay for the pain they had dealt him; he would make sure of that.  
"I understand your frustration commander, we have all lost too much to the Romulans. This war has gone far enough and we must draw the line. How would you like a chance to avenge your friends deaths and get back at the Romulans in the process?"  
A twinge of excitement came into the Klingon's eyes. "I would like that very much Regent. Do you have something in mind?"  
The expression on Worf's face changed as a slight grin appeared on his face. "Are you familiar with the shipyards at Valkor IV?" There was no response from Mulkrit. All he did was nod ever so slightly. "Well commander, we've gotten reports that the Romulans are redoubling their efforts to increase the shipyards size. I want you to go and destroy it before it becomes an even larger threat."  
Mulkrit sat there for a moment and remembered the specs of the facility that he had read once. "The station is far too big for us to take out alone sir."  
"I'm sending two Vor'Cha's, the Dro'Vat and Ta'Coth, with you. Plus they'll be two Cardassian Galor class cruiser with you as well."  
At the mention of Cardassians Mulkrit's face turned to disgust. "The Cardassians sir? Why are they coming along?"  
A deep sigh revealed the Regent's frustration with their allies. "They keep complaining that their ships aren't being sent on enough tactical missions. As a show of faith I have assigned their two best vessels to you."  
"Very well sir. Anything else?"  
"Qa'pla commander. And may the battle be a glorious one." With that Worf got up and walked out the door.  
It had been several hours since the Sompek had left Kendra Alpha and they were nearly at their destination. During the trip Mulkrit had done something that he hadn't since word of T'Jal's fate, left his quarters. If this mission was to be a success then the crew needed their resilient captain to be on the bridge, commanding them through the tough battle that lie in wait. They had to be victorious; there was no question of that. If Mulkrit could not win a battle in T'Jal and Zelbreghn's honor then they had no chance at ever going to Sto'Vo'Kor, and that was unacceptable.  
Mulkrit slouched back in his leather command chair and slowly rubbed his hands together. If they were to win then they would have to plan out a great strategy. Valkor IV was known for producing nearly a fifth of the D'Deridex class warbirds that the Romulans were currently using in their fleet. The reports estimated anywhere from ten to twenty three warbirds stationed there at a given time. It went against every fiber in his Klingon being, but Mulkrit knew that he would have to destroy the shipyards and get out quickly, leaving several of his enemies behind and alive.  
Mulkrit slammed his fist down on the chair's armrest in frustration, startling several of the bridge crew. He knew that it would haunt him for a long time to come, but it was the only way for him to live to fight on. Before the battle took place though he would have to consult with the pitiful Cardassians that he had been forced to drag along.  
"Kelmarq, open a communication channel with the Alvex. I wish to speak with their captain." He ordered to his communications officer.  
"Aye sir. Opening channel now," she quickly said.  
"This is Gul Duren. What are you in need of my Klingon friend."  
"Before we arrive I thought we should discuss our battle plan."  
"Our battle plan?" Duren asked confused. "What's there to discuss? We fly in, blast some Romulans, and fly back out. Even you should be able to understand that." Duren spoke with an arrogant tone; a Cardassian tone.  
Mulkrit let out a grunt of disgust. He had never liked Cardassians and just because they were allies didn't mean he would now either. They always made you feel inferior, even when they didn't make sense to themselves. "If we go in their head-on and just open fire the Romulans will destroy us before we can affect any damage at all. We need a well thought out plan if we are to succeed."  
"And I suppose you just happen to have a plan up your sleeve?"  
"I do."  
"Well then by all means share away. I'm just waiting to hear it."  
A glare came from Mulkrit's face and was shot back at Duren. If they didn't need the two ships to win this battle Mulkrit would have ordered their destruction. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I think that the Alvex should drop out of warp at coordinates forty-two gamma, right behind the shipyard's main scaffolding. From there you should attack the warbirds that are getting repaired on."  
"And what will you Klingons be doing while we risk our lives?" Duren said in a sharp tone.  
Mulkrit's patience was growing thin with Duren and he let out a low, frustrated growl to let the Cardassian know of the fact. "Well if you let me finish I'll make that point clear, Duren. The Sompek and the two Vor'Chas will drop out of warp at coordinates twenty-seven alpha, directly in front of the station. From there we will attack the station itself, destroying it and any nearby vessels. After the station's destruction all five ships will cripple and destroy any ships we encounter on our way out." Mulkrit leaned back and tightened his hands; proud of the plan he had come up with.  
Duren sat there for a moment and analyzed the plan in his head. It wasn't that bad of a plan at all. The big obstacle of the whole plan though was the amount of ships currently stationed there. They wouldn't know the answer to that question until they got too close to turn back. "Well it's not that bad of a plan, especially coming from a Klingon."  
At this point Mulkrit had lost his patience with the arrogant Cardassian. "I recommend comms silence until we arrive at the station. Until then Mulkrit out." He signaled Kelmarq to close the channel and the screen went blank. The attitudes of several of their allies, not just the Cardassians, had caused the empire trouble. Many Klingons believed that had the Romulans not been such a formidable opponent then the empire would have no allies, and most of the ones they had now would be conquered peoples.  
He turned and looked at Kelmarq again. "Lieutenant, send a copy of the mission plan to the Dro'Vat and Ta'Coth."  
She quickly nodded before replying. "Mission plan sent sir."  
"Commander Valkris I want constant battle drills until we arrive, I don't want to be caught unprepared."  
"Aye sir!" A tall Klingon saluted before heading to a turbolift and leaving the bridge.  
"And somebody get me a Roktajino. I'm not going into battle on a dry stomach." A young ensign, too young to be involved in this bloody war, rushed out to fetch the captain's request.  
A small smile spread across Mulkrit's face. He was proud of his crew. They were some of the best-trained officers in the fleet and they were hungry for a battle. Before the attack on Lyca Station the Sompek had been stuck patrolling the border for nearly two months. During that time they had encountered only a few Romulan cruisers and some scoutships. It was almost as if the presence of the mighty ship made the Romulans flee like bugs from a mower. The patrol was a peaceful one, but it had presented little opportunity for glory, little chance to feel like they were making a difference in this war. This mission was exactly what he and his crew needed.  
As the distance between the fleet and the target shortened Mulkrit sat back and sipped on his drink. It was odd but Mulkrit was both excited and dismayed at the coming battle. The warrior in him was thrilled at finally having a mission worth having, and being able to deal a blow to those that had slaughtered his friends. Another part of him, almost a seemingly wiser part, grew tired of the conflict. The horrible war had lasted over eight years and still there was no clear end in sight. In all that time the two powers had come to a stalemate.  
He let out a sigh that must have been louder then he thought because Valkris turned to look at him. His friend had a scar on his right cheek, another trophy of war.  
"All troops are ready for battle sir. The Romulans won't know what hit them," the commander said in a proud, almost boastful tone.  
"Very good commander. Once we arrive we are going to need everyone at their top performance. Helm, how long before we arrive at the target?"  
"ETA is approximately three minutes twenty seconds, sir."  
Only three minutes before his vengeance took place. By his command he would make sure that the Romulans would have a cold and painful death. The same they had dealt to T'Jal and Zelbreghn.  
The short time passed by very quickly and the Sompek, Dro'Vat, and Ta'Coth dropped out of warp only a few hundred meters form the shipyard. Mulkrit stood up from his chair and analyzed the image on the view screen. To his surprise there only appeared to be five warbirds floating near the station, and another two locked in its scaffolding under repairs.  
"Tactical, target the lead Romulan ship and open fire," came the captain's cold order.  
Without hesitation the officer pressed the fire button and launched several torpedoes at the warbird's forward sections. The torpedoes hit with deadly accuracy and blew the head of the mighty bird clean off. The remaining sections of the ship teetered a bit and began to fall as fire covered the metal plating.  
As the crippled ship sat there a blaze the three Klingon vessels flew past the burning hulk and fired simultaneously at the second ship. Unlike its sister the second ship was able to raise their shields before the barrage could hit them.  
"Signal the other ships to target the shields near the warbird's starboard engine and fire with their phasers. Once we have punched a hole in their shields then open fire with our torpedoes."  
In a swift motion all three vessels turned and opened fire on the nacelle's shields. Within seconds they shimmered slightly before dropping, exposing the helpless section to the Klingon's fiery wrath. As the shields lowered several glowing torpedoes left their Klingon launchers and struck the ship's engine, shattering it to pieces. The warbird shuttered for a moment before exploding into a brilliance of light and death.  
With a sudden halt the two Cardassian ships dropped out of warp. As they prepared to join the battle a blinding flash was seen as the three Klingon vessels destroyed a third warbird, which only left two more active enemies left.  
Duren paused for a moment, considering his strategy. The plan was for the Alvex and Veklar to remove the ships being worked on, but to attack two broken vessels seemed like a waste of time and weapons fire.  
"What are our orders sir?" The tactical officer asked hesitantly.  
Quietly Duren studied the scene before him and the layout of the station. After a few brief moments he came up with a plan that should serve both his needs and those of the original plan.  
"Prepare to open fire at coordinates forty-two beta." The captain said raising a hand to his chin.  
"But sir, that will hit the station, not the two damaged warbirds."  
"That it correct. However it will hit the station's connectors between the main sections and the scaffolding holding the two vessels. When the connectors are destroyed it will start a cascade reaction that should take out the two vessels as well."  
"Very well sir. Opening fire." With a press of a button a trio or torpedoes followed by several phaser blasts erupted from the ship's weapons array and struck the station's connectors. A jagged line of fire shot across the connectors from edge to edge. Seconds later the scaffolding section tore and fell from the main sections of the station.  
As he walked towards the view screen Mulkrit smiled slightly. This mission was going easier then he had thought and he was relieved at how smoothly it was going. He stood there and watched as all five vessels converged on the final warbird, destroying it quickly. "Open a channel to the other ships Kelmarq."  
"Channel open sir," she said with a new sense of excitement.  
"This is squad commander Mulkrit. I want all ships to target the station at the designated coordinates," he typed in a series of coordinates on the comms panel before sending them. "Fire a full spread of torpedoes followed by precision phaser blasts. Wait for my signal to fire." Several seconds trudged by before the order was given.  
In a careful sequence the five vessels formed a circle around the base and unleashed their fury near the main sections of the station. Several small fires erupted on the station's surface. With every new impact the fires grew larger and larger until they consumed every inch of the station and left nothing but charred remains and broken hull fragments.  
Mulkrit stood there and surveyed the damage. This station had been turned into nothing more then ashes and death. Satisfied he turned around and sat back down in his comfortable leather captain's chair. "Helm set course for Kendra Alpha and engage at maximum warp once we leave the debris field. Inform the rest of the fleet to do the same.  
"Aye sir."  
The hum of the engines grew louder as the ship moved away from the debris. Though the ship was quiet Mulkrit knew how excited the crew was at having just achieved such a big victory. As he sat there he found that it was hard for him not to just let out a triumph shout. The fact that hardly any of his troops had died on this mission was an added plus. It truly was a great battle, worthy of his fallen friends honor.  
Suddenly a proximity alert buzzer interrupted the silence. "Turn that thing off!" Mulkrit yelled into the quick chaos.  
"Sir, there are ten Romulan warbirds decloaking behind us and opening fire!"  
"Shields! Turn about and prepare to...." His orders were interrupted by the sudden shaking of the ship around him. Several torpedoes hit them and the whole ship was tossed and turned about in the ensuing madness.  
"On screen!" was the only order that Mulkrit was able to give as he climbed up from off the ground. What he saw made his emotions completely change. As he sat there he felt helpless as several of the warbirds fired upon the Dro'Vat, destroying it with relative ease.  
"Sir, orders?" asked the bewildered tactical officer.  
Silently Mulkrit examined the situation. There were four damaged vessels against ten perfect condition warbirds. Their mission was complete as the station was destroyed, and he was ordered to get out once that had been achieved. Frustrated, he thought about his options and went back and forth on what to do. Finally he said the one thing he would regret, but knew he had to. "Signal the other ships to break fire and retreat."  
"Sir?" the tactical officer questionly asked.  
"You heard me. Full retreat!" In his whole career Mulkrit had never ordered a retreat and the fact that he was doing so now only enraged him more. He knew it must be done though; so that he may live to fight another day, fight for himself and for his fallen friends.  
With a whine the ship turned and headed back on its original course. It seemed as though the ship itself hated to retreat.  
"Sir we are receiving a hail from the Romulans."  
A hail from the Romulans? What deception could they be up to now? "Put them through Kelmarq."  
"This is Centurion Veruuk, commanding the Romulan fleet. What's the matter Klingon? Not feeling up to the challenge? After all I didn't think that Klingons knew how to run."  
Mulkrit gritted his teeth in anger but didn't speak.  
"Well I never liked combating Klingons anyway. My specialty is slaughtering Bajorans, like the one commanding Lyca Station. What was her name...?"  
"T'Jal! Her name was T'Jal!" the Klingon commander shouted out in blind rage.  
"Ah so you knew her, eh? A really tricky soldier she was. Almost killed me with her little stunt. Thankfully though I have a quick responding crew and I got out with only a few scars."  
"You should feel lucky with only that. If I had been there you would not be here today."  
"You threatening me Klingon?" Veruuk said in a smug tone. "Why don't you make due on it?"  
"I don't have the time today Romulan, but rest assured that one day I will. Until then remember this day and know that you will not receive luck a third time. Engage warp!" he said to the helm officer. Suddenly the Sompek and the three other allied vessels jumped into warp, fleeing the cold scene behind them. As they headed for their destination Mulkrit clenched his fist and silently vowed to avenge T'Jal's death by taking Veruuk's. 


	6. Patriot or Traitor

_ Chapter Six: Patriot or Traitor_  
  
Mission  
The Alvex has been dispatched by the Detapa Council to the Venru sector to meet with a Ferengi vessel that supposedly is carrying cargo of interest to the Cardassian government. Once the cargo is secure then orders are to bring it directly back to Cardassia Prime.  
Mission Date:  
217th day in the 2368th year of Molar  
  
Throughout the bridge the loud tapping echoed. If there was one thing Duren hated it would be having to wait on others. It had been nearly two hours since their arrival in the Venru sector and almost one since they were supposed to meet with some unknown Ferengi ship.  
Missions like this were everyone's least favorite. Sneaking around, being given few if any mission details. All that wrapped in some top-secret plot created by the government. No one on the crew knew which Ferengi would be contacting them, or even what the 'precious cargo' was, but they all knew that the Detapa Council wanted it. That plus they didn't want anyone else to know about it. Otherwise they would have gone through the normal Alliance channels to give the orders. Gul Duren had received these orders by messenger; in a triple encrypted file nonetheless.  
Duren looked around the ship's bridge and at his crew. Though they were all busy with diagnostics of some sort Duren could tell they were bored. All of them hoped that this mission would be an easy pick up and drop off delivery run. Of course though a mission of this importance never was easy and hardly ran smoothly.  
Still though this was a nice break from their last mission. The Alvex's crew was thrilled to have an actual combat mission, one where they had a chance to make a difference in the war. While they did accomplish the mission at Valkor IV they barely escaped with their lives. A nice calm mission like this was just what they needed.  
A nice calm mission? This was anything but that. The mysterious orders were enough to get most soldiers nervous, but the ship rendezvousing with them being late was enough to turn everything worse.  
"Any sign of the Ferengi vessel we're supposed to meet yet?"  
"No sir. I'm not reading anything but stellar dust in this entire sector."  
"Very well lieutenant. Inform me if anything changes." Duren slumped back in his chair and let out a silent sigh. They didn't have all this time to spend out here waiting on some unreliable Ferengi. The Alvex was still in need of several repairs from its last mission. And the only reason they were here in the first place was at the insistence of the council. That was another thing that puzzled Duren, why did they need him? He was sure that there were plenty of other captains that were suited for this task. In fact why didn't they just send a cargo vessel? The more Duren thought about it the more questions came to his mind.  
Without giving it more then a few seconds thought Duren rose from his chair and walked over to a newly installed replicator located just behind his chair. A few taps to the terminal's controls before a tall bottle of Kanar appeared. He quickly removed the cork and took a sip before heading back to his chair. Kanar was truly a delicacy among delicacies and few if any other drinks could compare. With another sip Duren eased back in his chair and began to feel at rest again, a rest that was quickly interrupted.  
"Sir I'm picking up a Ferengi D'Kora class marauder coming in from directly above us."  
The news jostled the commander from his newly found paradise and sucked him back into the bustling reality. "Where are they coming from so quickly? I thought you said there were no other ships in this sector lieutenant."  
"I did sir, because there was none on our scanners." The Cardassian lieutenant did a quick look over the sensor display to try and see if he missed something. After studying the diagram for a moment he turned his attention back to the commander. "Sir I believe they were hiding in the outer corona of the nearby star."  
"Hiding? Whatever could they have been hiding from?"  
"Uncertain sir. Whoever they are we're getting a message from them," said a gruff soldier sitting at the comms station.  
Duren hesitated for a moment trying to decide what to do. Finally his desire to be finished with this begotten mission took over. "Well put them through."  
"This is Kreplar, first officer of the D'Kora class marauder Kraylor. My Daimon wishes to extend his apologies for being late and wishes to beam aboard and talk to you personally Gul Duren."  
Duren leaned forward in his chair and slightly stroked his chin deep in thought. The Ferengi ship was the Kraylor? One of the fellow ships in the elite tactical group ARA? Everything seemed to turn around all at once. This was a trap, and Duren knew it. A test probably sent by the Regent himself to test the loyalties of himself and his crew. If this wasn't handled carefully then things would get very messy very fast.  
"And who might this daimon of yours be?" he said coolly. "I'm curious to see who the Grand Nagus decided to stick in the captain's chair of the Ferengi flagship."  
"He says he does not wish to reveal himself just yet. However he wants me to tell you he knows a secret concerning you and the Overseer."  
A secret concerning the Overseer? Could he be referring to the secret plot to overthrow her? There was no need for concern though, it could mean anything. Ferengi could hardly think their way out of anything so there was no way for any of them to know of the plot and his involvement.  
The Ferengi first officer just stood there and stared at him from the screen. He seemed as impatient about this mission as everyone was surely feeling. After tossing the situation back and forth through his mind he made his decision. "Very well Kreplar, tell your daimon he may transport over at his earliest convenience.  
A sly, toothy grin took shaped on the Ferengi's face. "Excellent. The daimon will be pleased to hear that. Prepare for him to beam aboard momentarily."  
"Understood. Gul Duren out." He made a gesture to one of his officers and the screen faded and was replaced with an image of the Kraylor. "I'll be in transporter room one," he quickly said before approaching the turbo lift. As he stood there a large, muscular Cardassian walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
"Would you like a security officer to go with you sir?"  
Duren looked at the officer's face, at the concern in his eyes. "No, I don't think that would be appropriate. After all they are our allies." The turbo lift doors opened and Duren calmly stepped in. He turned back around and gave a last look at the officer before the doors closed and sped toward its destination. Whether the Ferengi were allies or not there was still a bit of cause for concern. This mission had too much to lose with only the hint of something to gain.  
After several moments of calm humming the turbo lift stopped and opened it's doors out onto the deck. With a quick look around the gul felt a bit more at ease before stepping out into the empty corridor. Their orders for the mission had been given quickly while they were still docked, so the bulk of the crew was still sitting and waiting for their return. He turned down one of the corridor's many corners and nearly tripped over a panel casing that had been left carelessly on the floor, probably by one of the station technicians who had left so quickly that the operation had slipped his mind.  
Inside the transporter room was another open panel with a couple of wires haphazardly welded together to force a use out of them. Duren snorted in disgust at the current state of the ship.  
"Sir, the Ferengi ship is reporting that the daimon is ready for transport."  
"Then by all means," he gestured at the officer to beam the Ferengi commander aboard.  
A yellow beam filled the small area of the transporter pad and a figure began to emerge. Within seconds the Ferengi features began to appear; bald head, large prominent ears, short stature. As the daimon materialized Duren tried to make out who it was, see if it was someone he knew. It wasn't until after the transportation was complete and the yellow beams of light faded away did he realize who it was.  
"Tierzak?" his eyes widening as he spoke.  
"Gul Duren!" replied the short man in a nasal voice, his hands raised in the air. "How are you friend?"  
"Good, all things considered." The Gul's attention turned for a moment from the Ferengi to the Cardassian officer who had brought him aboard. "You're dismissed ensign." The young officer gave both of them a quick glance before scampering out of the room.  
"I'm glad to see you here Duren. We have much to discuss."  
"Yes indeed we do, like teaching you how to be on time for an appointment." There was a brief pause before both of them started to laugh.  
Tierzak abruptly stopped laughing and the expression on his face turned from one of joy to a serious, concerned one. "All jokes aside, there is something of importance to talk about. Something concerning the matter we discussed a while back on that supply mission to Alderok Nor."  
"I see..." Duren's voice trailed off and he became lost in thought. This must be important if it made Tierzak look so concerned. "Shall we head to my quarters then to make sure this is a private discussion?"  
"Before that we have to wait for the other two to come aboard."  
"Other two? Which others are you speaking of?" A puzzled look washed over the Cardassian's face.  
"You mean you don't know?" Tierzak displayed the same puzzlement back to Duren, like he was an emotional mirror. "What did you think you came to retrieve?"  
"To tell the truth I'm not sure. All I was told was that we were to get some cargo from a Ferengi vessel and that this cargo was really important to the Cardassian people."  
"Important to the Cardassian people?" the short Ferengi scoffed. "If these two were so important to the Cardassian people then they wouldn't have been banished."  
"Banished? Who could you possibly be speaking about?"  
A wide grin came across Tierzak's face. "Oh wait and see my friend, I think you will really enjoy this." He walked over behind the transporter control console and tapped a series of buttons to activate the unit.  
Duren looked at him for a moment before turning to see two bright lights appearing in the terminal. The lights continued to grow in intensity for a few seconds before quickly fading and disappearing together. What was left on the terminal was a tall man and a young, frail looking woman. They were both wearing tattered brown robes which hid their features from view. Duren strained to see if he could make out who they were, or even what species they were. Unfortunately he couldn't.  
The man turned his head and studied the room carefully before pulling down the hood of his robe. "Finally! Back on a Cardassian ship where I belong!"  
Immediately Gul Duren knew who the man was and he became so overjoyed that he had no concept of how to greet the man. It was his personal hero, Gul Dukat.  
Quickly the other new arrival followed suit by removing her hood. She was also easily distinguished as Dukat's daughter, Tora Ziyal. Both had been labeled as traitors of the state several years ago and had quietly disappeared shortly thereafter.  
The short little Ferengi stepped out from behind the console and walked over to Dukat. He smiled back at Duren before he spoke. "Dukat I'd like you to meet my good friend Gul Duren. Duren, this is Dukat and his daughter Ziyal."  
"I uh...already know who they are Tierzak." The Cardassian commander just stood there in awe, not having a single iota of a clue as to what to say.  
Dukat looked over the Cardassian commander that stood before him and turned away a bit disgusted, but also a bit honored. A soldier should not make such an obvious show of hero-worship towards anyone, yet because it was directed at him he decided to tolerate it. "Is there a place where we can talk Gul Duren?"  
Duren paused for a moment before shaking his head and the trance off of himself. "We can go to my quarters. It is the most secure room on the ship. But if I may ask a question first of you Gul Dukat..."  
"My name is Dukat. I lost my rank long ago for another person's actions." Anger glinted in Dukat's eyes and he looked as though he had just been slapped without cause.  
"I'm...sorry Dukat. I had no idea that the issue of your former status offended you so much." Duren slightly gulped and displayed an apologetic look, hoping to gain his idol's forgiveness.  
Dukat looked at him and let out a sigh. "Don't worry about it. You didn't know so it's not your fault." He paused for a moment, "So what is your question."  
Question? What question? In the commotion of the offense Duren had forgotten all about his question. "What exactly are you doing here? And why did you disappear for so long?"  
"Those questions can all be answered later in you quarters." He looked around cautiously with what seemed like a hint of paranoia. "Speaking of which can we go there now? This transporter room has lost my interest."  
"Of course. Right this way." With his hand he gave a waving motion outside of the door. Tierzak was the first one to exit, still displaying his usual toothy grin. Dukat stayed for a moment and helped his daughter off of the transporter pad before they both walked out side by side. After a brief pause Duren joined them in the hallway and took the lead.  
Tierzak sped up his pace and caught up to his friend. "So what do you think of my 'cargo'?" he quietly whispered.  
Duren looked over his shoulder at the two passengers as they continued down the corridor. "What do I think? This is such a complete surprise that...well I don't even know what to say. Where did you find them anyway?"  
The short Ferengi turned towards Duren still displaying his wide grin. "I knew you'd enjoy it. You would have never guessed but I found them at the ruins on Tesslak Prime."  
"Tesslak Prime?" the gul shouted out with shocked eyes. "You can't possibly mean the desolate colony of thugs and criminals."  
"The very same," Tierzak said with a nod of his head. "They have been living there ever since their exile from Cardassia Prime, nearly two years ago."  
Gul Duren was very shocked by this news. Dukat was one of them most respected soldiers in the Cardassian army up until his silent discommendation. In all of his days Duren never would have thought a man of that stature would ever end up in a place like Tesslak Prime. The colony there was little more then an ancient prison that had long been released and forgotten by its keepers. It just went to show how quickly one can fall from grace, and end up in a dump.  
"Now for the real question Tierzak. Why are they here?"  
This time it was Tierzak who looked back at the two meager Cardassians. After a long glance he turned his grinning gaze back around and stared mindlessly ahead. "Don't worry Duren, they will explain everything to you. I will say though that it involves our plan dealing with the Overseer and maybe a solution to our dilemma."  
"A solution?" His mind raced with possibilities as Duren sifted through all the information his friend had given him. He was lost in thought as they reached the doors of Duren's private quarters. Slowly they filed in. "Please sit down," the gul said as he motioned to several comfortable chairs sprawled throughout the room. "May I get you a drink Dukat? Perhaps some Kanar?"  
"Yes, some Kanar would be quite good," the ragged Cardassian said as he slowly eased into a chair.  
Gul Duren quickly walked over to the room's replicator and ordered four snifters of the spicy drink. A hum kicked on for a brief second then suddenly back off as the drinks materialized from mere particles floating in the air. After picking them up he walked around the room giving one to Tierzak and Dukat and placed his and the one Ziyal kindly refused next to the chair behind his desk.  
Dukat took a sip of his and let out a sigh of enjoyment. "This is what the Cardassian heart yearns for, this is what it ticks for. It has been far too long since I had the chance to enjoy this, and I hope that my palate is never forced to be absent of it again."  
"This truly is one of the things that make the Cardassian people so great. One of our greatest achievements can be found right here in this simple pleasure." Duren leaned back in his chair and took a sip himself, enjoying the cold and smooth drink flow down his throat into an eager stomach.  
"While I too enjoy it I don't think we are all here to sip on drinks. There is business to discuss after all gentlemen." Being a typical Ferengi Tierzak wanted to get this little transaction of information over with so he could examine the possible gain, not to his own fault seeing as how this was a known Ferengi trait.  
"Tierzak! Some...." Duren said trying to get some silence from him.  
"It's okay Gul Duren. After all the little Ferengi is right." Dukat interrupted. "We have precious little time to address such a large scale matter." There was a mix of concern and caution on Dukat's face, not what anyone had expected him to present.  
"A large scale matter? What exactly do you mean?"  
"Well," the former soldier said with a sigh, "Thanks to Tierzak we have been informed about your desire to remove Seven from the Overseer position and to expose her true nature before the council. I think that we will be able to do this but..." he paused for a moment and looked at Ziyal, who was comfortably relaxing in a soft oval chair. "...I think Ziyal can explain the rest better then me."  
She sat up and had a nervous look in her eyes. It took a smile from her father and a slight nod to go on before she began to speak. "Two years ago I was the chief assistant to Winn Adami, the leader of Bajor and head Kai. One day though someone snuck into the Kai's office and brutally murdered her."  
"Yes, this is all ancient news to me. You disappeared that day and everyone blamed you and thought it was a Cardassian plot to remove the Bajorans from power..." Suddenly he stopped in his commentary as hurt appeared in the young woman's eyes. His attention turned to Tierzak who only lifted a hand, telling him to be quiet and listen. "I'm sorry Ziyal, please go on."  
The young woman inhaled a deep breath before continuing. "Well during the chaos after her death I hid in my office's closet until two strong men grabbed me and took me off the planet. The men were Cardassian and I later found out that they worked for a man called Enabrain Tain."  
"Tain? You mean the leader of the Obsidian Order? Why would they be involved in your abduction?"  
"I'm not exactly sure," Ziyal said softly and hesitantly. "I think it had something to do with my father though."  
Everyone's eyes turned to look at Dukat as they sat and wondered how he tied in with all of this. Tain must have had a good reason for orchestrating the whole thing, if not a clear one.  
After a deep breath Ziyal continued with her story. "For whatever reason Tain did what he did is not important to this matter. The real thing that I need to talk about is a Terran woman whom I befriended shortly before all of that took place. Her name was Seven, and she was the chief assistant to Kira Nerrys during her time as Overseer."  
Seven spent some time on Bajor? And she was Kira's assistant? Nothing seemed to be adding up and all the girl was giving him were pieces to a puzzle that didn't fit together.  
"During our time together she asked a lot of odd questions concerning the building. Guard postings, automated defense systems, structure layout, that sort of thing. At the time it didn't seem all that odd, after all we got tons of questions about the building due to its political significance. Since the information she asked for wasn't restricted I supplied her with all that she needed. I didn't really think nothing of it or the fact of how close she and Kira were until after the assassination of Kai Winn."  
Duren leaned back in his chair and absorbed the entire story Ziyal had just fed him. Deep thought shown on his face as he concentrated on every tidbit of information. Slowly in his mind he fit the pieces together and connected the dots from a to b to c until the picture began to take shape. Suddenly he sat straight up in his chair and looked at the young woman in an eager shock. "So Kira had Seven kill Kai Winn?" he blurted out in uncertainty.  
Ziyal looked down at her feet. "That's what I believe," she mumbled.  
A grin slowly creased across Duren's face as he realized the full effect this story could have. If it got out that Kira and Seven were the real people behind Kai Winn's death then they'd be executed without hesitation or worse yet, made into pariahs and exiled from Alliance space forever. It was if all of his problems had been solved with one swift motion. As he got up from his chair it took all of his strength to not let out a triumphant yell.  
"And you can prove all of this?" Tierzak said, interrupting Duren's joy.  
"Well with some help I might be able to gain access to the security logs of that day and try and get a positive readout of everyone in the Kai's room that day. Plus there's a contact of mine, a woman called Leeta, who could help me prove that I've spoken the truth."  
As he fell back into his chair Duren's heart sank as well. In the midst of his silent victory celebration he had forgotten the need for proof. Ziyal's story did seem a bit far out there, and would be hard to convince others to believe. But at least they had options, and a sign of hope. "We'll begin a search for this Leeta character as soon as repairs are finished. Then we can finally remove that Terran from such a high position and place someone more worthy in her place." Duren looked around the room at his partners; those that would help him bring glory to their peoples. He raised his glass of Kanar and toasted them, "To the future!" 


	7. Hidden Aggression

_ Chapter Seven: Hidden Aggression_  
  
Mission  
The Maq'Tau has been ordered to patrol the Klingon/Romulan border, specifically the Dalaneb sector. Rumors have been circulating that a mysterious nebula has appeared somewhere in this sector, but they are unsubstantiated.  
Mission Date:  
219th day in the 2368th of Molar  
  
"And this is the bridge of the ship," the Klingon ensign said as he stepped off the turbo lift and onto the command center of the ship. "This is of course where all the command decisions are made and most of the ship's functions are monitored and regulated..."  
"I know what goes on inside the command center of a ship, ensign. You can skip the tour speech of yours and take me to Commander Kloraq if you please."  
"Of course ma'am, right this way." As the officer turned away a rather disgusted look made its way across his face. The two of them made their way from the lift across the room to the leather captain's chair. "Here you go ma'am," the officer quickly gestured to the chair before turning and walking out of the room.  
"Commander Kloraq, how nice to finally meet you. I have been waiting since I arrived on board to..." A sudden grunt of discontent halted her welcome. Silently she stood there for a moment waiting to see what had invoked the response.  
After a brief pause Kloraq's chair turned, bringing the two face to face. The moment continued as Kloraq looked over the Bajoran's face as an angry flash shimmered in his eyes. "Let's get one thing straight here, shall we? I am the captain of this vessel, not you. That means that I and I alone can order around officers on this ship. Is that clear?"  
"But Kloraq I only..."  
"I asked if you understood," the Klingon interrupted, becoming increasingly more agitated. "If this concept is too much for you to grasp then you can take a shuttle back to friendly territory and await passage back to Bajor on a garbage scow."  
The Bajoran woman shrunk back from both guilt and shock, not quite sure what to say. "I...apologize sir. It won't happen again."  
"See that it doesn't." After a stern look the captain's chair swung back around and returned to its previous position.  
Quickly she walked around the chair to speak to the commanding officer once more. "As you know I am here to observe you in this mission and to give a more detailed account of the goings on aboard a warship." A second grunt came from the dissatisfied warrior, which made the woman briefly pause. "I understand that most of you soldier types are usually too busy to fill out a report with the accuracy that is sometimes required. So I have been placed here to file the report for you."  
"I already know your place here... What was your name again?"  
"Advisor Latrena, but please call me Latrena"  
"All right, Latrena. I fully know why you're here and that certain governments in the Alliance think that certain militaries, namely the Klingon and Breen militaries, are being given too many assignments and that both armies aren't taking this war as serious as should be."  
"It's not that we don't think your not taking the war seriously. It's just..." Latrena paused and stood there thinking, trying to find the words to explain the delicate situation without offending the warrior in front of her. "Just that we feel the war would progress more favorably for us if there was a touch more involvement from the other power armies in the Alliance."  
"Other power armies? Need I remind you why the Klingon and Breen forces are taking the brunt of this war, taking the biggest losses while people like you sit comfortably behind a desk trying to decided how we should fight this war?"  
The force of words shot towards her nearly knocked Latrena off her feet. Obviously she had a lapse in judgment in choosing her words since they had so deeply harmed Kloraq. With a touch of sadness in her eyes she once again tried to explain the situation. "There is not a single person in the Alliance that doesn't know the losses suffered by your people and of those suffered by the Breen. And I can assure you that the losses deeply sadden us, but we know they are just the product of war for our freedom. If there was any other way to defeat the Romulan threat then we would gladly put it into action, if only to save more Alliance lives."  
Kloraq looked up at the Bajoran before turning and looking off at some distant galaxy. "Do you know how many friends I have lost in this war? How many people I have had to bury?"  
"We've all lost someone Kloraq, many of us have lost so many that we don't even bother to count any more."  
"When will it end Latrena? It certainly won't with us spending more time fighting each other then fighting the Romulans. And we can start by speaking some truth, like why you're really here."  
"Why I'm really here?" Latrena stood there with a puzzled expression. "But I just told you why I'm here."  
"No you didn't my dear. You used that tongue of yours to talk around the subject but you are still off. Admit it, you were sent by your government to spy on us, so that they have proof to remove the Klingon Empire from the top seat of power in this so called Alliance."  
"Is that why you think I'm here? To get some dirt on your race?"  
"Well isn't it?"  
"I can't believe you would think that, let alone say it." The two exchanged glances as Latrena stood there, shocked as can be. "Of all the...things you could've said you had to choose that. You stubborn, self righteous..."  
"Sir! I think there is something you need to look at!" The tense situation was abruptly interrupted by the ship's sensor officer.  
After a harsh and fleeting look Kloraq got out of his chair and walked over to the sensor display panel. He reviewed it for several moments before looking at the officer that summoned him. "Can you inform me what I'm supposed to be looking at?"  
"Its right here in sector twenty-three gamma, sir." With a quick tap to the panel the specified area enlarged and took its place on the ship's main view screen.  
Kloraq walked to in front of the screen and rubbed his bearded chin as he analyzed the image before him. "Well this is rather odd indeed."  
Within seconds he was joined by Latrena, who stood next to him as she did her own analysis. "Do you mind telling me what's so odd?"  
A fierce and irritated look shone on the Klingon commander's face, but only for the briefest of moments as he quickly regained his composure. "See how the sensor readout from this area has a point zero four degradation flux?"  
"Yes, but that could mean just about anything."  
"Pull the image back a bit lieutenant." A few seconds later the image zoomed out and more of the surrounding area came into view. "Now see how all of the surrounding space has a point zero three degradation flux?"  
"Your right, that is odd. They should all have an equal degradation flux, but they don't. I wonder why that is."  
"I can only think of two possibilities. Either it's a sensor glitch, or we are being fed false data."  
"False data? Who would be sending us false data? And more importantly why?"  
"Looks like someone is trying to hide something from us. A rather large something at that. Either way I think we should go check it out." The long gray commander robe flew out like the cape of some hero as Kloraq turned and proceeded back to his chair. "Helm, take us to the coordinates located on the screen, maximum impulse." An eerie, almost foreboding silence fell upon the bridge. Only the loud hum from the engines let them register that things were still progressing forward.  
Latrena stood nervously next to the captain's chair where Kloraq was sitting. Being the only non-Klingon on the ship during a time of war was enough to make nearly anyone a touch nervous. Add the fact that she had openly confronted the commanding officer and you would get the feeling that your back had a large, brightly colored target on it. It wasn't like she had come here to cause trouble on purpose, it just kind of happened on its own.  
Luckily for her there was this new distraction, something to take everyone's mind off of the earlier occurrence, including hers. This situation was very odd to Latrena. In all her time aboard starships she had never witnessed a degradation flux differential, save for when they were testing new and somewhat faulty sensor arrays. And to have a differential so small that most people would casually look over it as a glitch meant that it had to be deliberate. Which in turn meant someone was hiding something. But who, and more importantly what? These were questions that she hoped soon had answers.  
As he eased back in his chair Kloraq looked around the bridge at his command crew. They were very quiet and busy watching and working on their various consoles. Though they didn't know what situation laid before them they still carried a strong and courageous presence about them. Kloraq couldn't help but feel a bit proud of all of them. Since becoming captain of the Maq'Tau nearly three years earlier he had helped to shape and form them from a crew on the verge of self destruction to one of the finest, and most smooth running crews in the fleet.  
Without any warning the whole ship began to shake as the engines abruptly turned off; they were dead in space. The force of the quake had been such a powerful one that it had knocked several of the officers off their feet, and had sent Kloraq sprawling onto the floor in front of his chair.  
"Report. What just happened?" the commander asked as he clamored back into his chair.  
"It appears that we have hit an artificial nebula of some sort. The moment we made contact we lost all propulsion." A tall and muscular Klingon pressed a few buttons on his panel and began to silently read the report it displayed. "We have also lost communications and long range sensors due to a dampening effect present in the nebula."  
"Dampening effect? Could it be a naturally occurring effect?"  
After a few more taps to the console the officer looked up from it. "No sir. Someone created the effect using some form of low-band theta waves."  
A mysterious sensor discrepancy, an artificial nebula, a dampening effect created by theta waves, it seemed like more and more pieces were popping up but without knowing how they fit together they would never be able to complete this puzzle. One thing was for sure though; someone was deliberately hiding something nearby, something they didn't want anyone else to know about. "Helm, can you find the center of this nebula?"  
"Yes, I believe so sir."  
"Very good. Set a course and engage at...engage at whatever speed you can give me."  
"Aye sir. Engaging at one tenth impulse."  
After a brief pause Latrena bent down to speak to Kloraq. "Are you sure you know what you are doing here?" she whispered.  
"Of course. I am investigating a potential threat to the Alliance. Our mission is to seek out any unconfirmed presence out here, enemy or otherwise. All I am doing is completing the task I have been given." During his entire speech his gaze had been transfixed on the view screen, and the murky nebula depths that it showed. He had become so still that only the movement of his lips showed signs of life.  
Latrena pulled back and raised an eyebrow in suspicion. She knew good and well what their mission out here was and having it reminded to her in such a way was bordering insult. The only reason she had said what she did was as a precautionary step. Charging into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation is not what she had in mind for this voyage, and she felt it was her place to let Kloraq know that.  
Kloraq sat there in silence as the ship slowly made its way through the nebula. The time seemed to desperately ache on while the tension and eagerness grew inside of him. He sifted through the clues in his mind, searching for the hidden link that binded them together. His failure to find such a link did nothing but frustrate him, which he nearly let shown. Intently he stared at the screen until finally a pause in the nebula slowly formed ahead of them.  
As the rim of the nebula slowly receded off the edges of the screen several ships came into view. There were large ones and several small ones but they all shared a common design, and they all shared a common marking. The moment that Kloraq saw them he instantly recognized them. And with that recognition came the answers to several of his questions. "Romulans!" he blurted out. Quickly he turned around his chair and looked at the tactical officer. "I want to know how many vessels there are, whether or not they know we are here, and the status of our weapons systems pronto!" Kloraq frantically spat out.  
Shaking off a bit of shock the officer quickly got to his given tasks. His fingers furiously typed away at the tactical console displayed in front of him. As the needed information sprawled across the display he read it to himself before relaying it to the commander. "Sir, I'm detecting at least three dozen fighter squadrons and approximately eighteen D'Deridex class warbirds. They seemed to be centered around a large station directly ahead. I am not seeing any signs that they have detected us. Also all of our weapon systems are on-line and ready to fire at your command."  
"All right then here's the plan. Since they haven't detected us we are going to sneak around and attack their warbirds located in sector twenty-three by thirty-six. After we have eliminated them we are going to attack the station with everything we have until it's destroyed. Once that is accomplished we will..."  
"Excuse me sir, but may I talk to you for a moment? I think we should..."  
Kloraq's gaze abruptly turned towards the Bajoran woman and he raised his hand to her face. In a swift motion he grabbed her face and pulled it down to his, until they were nearly touching. "I thought we already discussed this earlier. Do you need me to remind you again? Or would you like me to toss you out there to the Romulans? I'm sure they could find a use for a Bajoran woman." With a gulp, fear flashed across the woman's eyes. For a moment the commander intently stared at her. Sensing her fear he released his grip and she went flying backwards, nearly falling off her feet. "Now please, state your objection."  
Rubbing her face she slowly stood back up. She flashed back a look of anger towards the Klingon bordering on resentment. "I believe you should reevaluate your plan. The odds of us achieving even the smallest of a victory here is minute."  
"That's the point. The bigger the odds the more glorious the victory!" He raised his hand into the air in a gallant manner.  
"To be rather blunt sir, we will be killed."  
"Then we shall. But before we do we will set forth an onslaught that will invoke many songs to be sung! It will be a most glorious battle!"  
Having finally had enough of him Latrena walked over to where the warrior was sitting. "You are being irrational, sir. If we went and got reinforcements..."  
Furiously Kloraq stood up from his chair and smacked her across her face with the back of his hand. As she struggled to get off the ground he looked over her with annoyance. "I will not share the glory of this battle with others. Besides, they may all be gone by the time we return. Now I'd suggest you keep your mouth closed for the rest of this mission or I will toss you out into space for insubordination." Kloraq quickly turned around and sat back down in his command chair. "Helm take us to the specified coordinates at stealth speed. Tactical prepare to fire a full spread of torpedoes on my command."  
Several members of the crew exchanged looks for a moment, not sure what to do. After an unsettling pause they jumped back into motion and went about performing their assigned tasks.  
As she got off the floor she saw a small bit of blood drop to the floor. With her sleeve she wiped away the blood from the corner of her mouth and stood back up. After a slight tumble she walked over to behind the captain's chair and leaned against it while she caught her breath. Anger swelled up inside her and all she wanted to do was make the arrogant fool pay. With no support and little strength left she was forced to stand by and wait for the mission to be over though.  
A silence fell onto the ship's bridge that was only interrupted by the cracking sounds of Kloraq's knuckles. Everyone's thoughts dwelled on the oncoming battle and it appeared that the commander was the only one looking forward to it. While the rest of the crew normally eagerly awaited battle they didn't look so eager for this one.  
"Arriving at the coordinates sir," the helmsman said with a hint of uneasiness.  
On the ship's forward view screen three separate warbirds came into view. All of them looked to be sitting there, waiting for something to happen. Whatever they were waiting for though was of no concern to Kloraq. "Target the first warbird and prepare to fire a full spread of torpedoes along its starboard sections. After that proceed to the other two with pattern Kloraq Orion."  
The tactical officer hesitated for a moment. Though the moment was brief it was long enough for Kloraq to shoot a defiant glance at him. After taking a deep breath he pressed the fire button and sent several glowing torpedoes on their deadly way.  
Silently they trudged through the murky space before the first of them crashed into its target's side. Following suit the rest of the death projectiles impacted at various areas along the warbird's starboard side, including that side's warp nacelle. At the moment of impact between the torpedo and the nacelle there was an explosion which sent debris and warp plasma spewing in all directions. Suddenly it began an uncontrolled spin which sent it flying down deeper into the nebula and out of sight.  
Having now let her presence known the Maq'Tau came charging from her seclusion and began to fire several short phaser bursts at its second victim. Plumes of fire rose from the multiple impact hits as the warbird began to tilt and point towards its Klingon aggressor.  
"Sir, they are preparing to attack!" someone shouted.  
"Ram us down their green-blooded throats helm!"  
The engines increased in intensity for a moment and the ship shot forward at its maximum speed. As the ships headed towards oblivion the Romulan warbird shot her own phasers which struck the Maq'Tau's port nacelle connector, but did little more then rock the ship around slightly. With her engines blazing the Maq'Tau steadily closed the gap between the two vessels, but she did not fire.  
Almost impatiently the tactical officer hovered his finger over the fire button, waiting for the command to fire. Kloraq sat there transfixed on the growing image of the Romulan ship displayed on the screen. He could almost sense the tension around him grow as the time before impact shrank. A small readout in the screen's corner counted away the time before impact and all of the crew's eyes stayed glued to it. Tick by tick the seconds counted down and slowly Kloraq raised his hand in wait. After nearly the longest time any of them had ever waited Kloraq clenched his hand into a fist which signaled to fire.  
Quickly the Maq'Tau fired several phaser blasts along with a volley of torpedoes which all impacted around the warbird's forward sections. Still being on a collision course the Klingon vessel suddenly pulled a ninety-degree roll and barely avoided crashing into the blazing shell of their enemy.  
While the glowing hulk of one enemy passed underneath them a fresh one came into view in front. Having witnessed the destruction of her sister ship this one was prepared and ready for the coming onslaught. Both the warbird and the Maq'Tau fired simultaneous phaser bursts at each other. The ones from the warbird did little more then singe many of the forward sections of the Maq'Tau, while the Klingon shots were a bit more accurate and punched several crisp holes into the great bird's head. With a shudder the Romulan vessel teetered before falling forward in an elaborate dive. As it dove down into the nebula's crimson depths the Maq'Tau flew over their enemy's bruised self and dropped several torpedoes like mines that impacted along the warbird's hull before blasting it into several fragments of debris.  
As their third enemy fell out of sight the real target came into view, the thing which they had been protecting, the thing that this whole elaborate plot had been constructed around.  
"What is that?" Latrena quietly asked what everyone else was silently asking themselves.  
Kloraq knew what it was almost at first glance. The smoothness and broad wings made it look different then the others but it still showed several of the defining characteristics. "It's a prototype for a new Romulan warbird." Several people suddenly took in a deep breath of air as the information seeped into their minds. "Tactical, see if you can give me a readout on that ship."  
"Uh...yes sir," the officer said trying not to let his wandering mind show. "I'm reading a total of twelve phaser arrays along with six different torpedo launchers.  
"So she is more powerful then the others, if not larger. All right let's come up with a way to take her down before she leaves dock. If we target the port connectors I think we can..." The unfolding plan was cut short from completion as the situation before them took a turn for the worse.  
With a slight creak and a slow pace the scaffolding around the Romulan prototype bended and folded up and away from the mighty bird. Ever so slowly several lights along its hull winked on and it began to move forward towards its Klingon prey.  
"We need some options here. I want a plan of attack and I want it now." Kloraq stood from his chair and looked around the bridge hoping upon hope that one of his officers could come up with a tactic to bring down this new beast.  
"If I may suggest something sir." After stepping out from behind the captain's chair Latrena looked at Kloraq with tired, yet friendly eyes.  
Being still in a state of anger Kloraq wanted to dismiss her and forget her presence until the proper time. The present situation however demanded a different approach, one which it had become necessary to ignore his personal feelings for the good of his ship and crew. "Go ahead Latrena."  
"Sir, if this is indeed a prototype for a new class of Romulan ship then we are the only ones in the Alliance who know about it. We have an obligation to the safety of the Alliance to relay any information about this vessel to our superiors. Since we cannot make contact inside of this nebula I suggest we turn around and head out of here."  
"If you're suggesting we retreat..."  
"No I am not suggesting retreat, nor would I try again with you. I am suggesting however that we exit this nebula long enough to send a data transmission to the nearest Alliance station so that they are warned of this vessel. Then we can return to engage it and whether or not we are victorious our sisters and brothers of war will know of this ship and hopefully find a way to defeat it."  
Kloraq stood there for a moment and rubbed his chin in thought. Latrena's plan did make sense, and it wouldn't count as a retreat per say, more like a fall back to equal terms. And Latrena's other point was correct as well. No matter how hard or bravely they fought the battle ahead they still might lose. If they were to lose then the Romulans would be able to use their warbird prototype to attack several Alliance ships and outposts before anyone knew of it. "Very well. We will proceed with Latrena's suggestion. Helm turn us about a hard one-eighty and head to the edge of the nebula at maximum speed." He looked at his comms officer, "Take every bit of data from this mission and compact it for a data transmission."  
"Aye sir!" he heard from all around him before resting back into his chair. His eyes met Latrena's and suddenly he no longer was so upset with her. Perhaps he had been wrong about her, and perhaps she of him. What mattered now though was that they were once again allies in this war, allies ready to die to protect those that needed protection, and those that were willing to do the same.   
The trip back through the nebula was running quite smooth. Either the Romulans were unable or unwilling to catch them because they hadn't seen a single ship on their sensors since their reentry of the nebula. Despite this fact the crew stayed alert and at their stations, in case the Romulans had an objection to them leaving. Latrena had resumed standing beside the captain's chair and Kloraq sat leaning forward in it.  
After traversing nearly half the distance their calm voyage was suddenly shaken as the ship was tossed about in the murky sea. "Report!" Kloraq shouted over the sound of a display screen exploding.  
"Sir, we've been hit by a torpedo in the center aft section. We have lost auxiliary engines as a result."  
"By which ship? I didn't know that any were within firing range."  
The tactical officer studied his display looking for an answer to the captain's question. "It appears to have been the prototype sir. They must have some how eluded our sensors until they were within range."  
So she was quick as well as stealthy; a formidable opponent indeed. Suddenly the ship shook once more as another torpedo hit them. With the impact of a third torpedo the ship began to lose momentum after the feeling of a terrible quake reverberated throughout the Maq'Tau's hull. "What happened? Why are we losing speed?"  
"The last torpedo took out part of our port nacelle sir. We are leaking plasma and if I hadn't of shut it down it could have caused a warp core breach."  
"How long before we reach the nebula rim?" Kloraq asked gritting his teeth.  
"Another three minutes sir."  
Kloraq let out a deep breath as he did the mental calculations. At this rate they wouldn't make it out in one piece, but he knew they must for the sake of the Alliance.  
With concern in her eyes Latrena kneeled down next to Kloraq. She could see a touch of hopelessness twinkle in his eyes as they exchanged glances. "We have to make it Kloraq, and we will." she softly whispered.   
Of course Kloraq knew she was right. He then made the only choice that seemed reasonable. "Take all systems except life support off-line and transfer the power to the engines."  
"Including weapons sir?" the tactical officer asked hesitantly.  
"Yes, including weapons." Deep down he knew this to be a bad choice but he felt like it was a necessary one. "We need all the power we can get."  
"Power transfer complete. We will be arriving at the nebula rim in thirty seconds."  
Feeling like nothing was left to do Kloraq relaxed a bit and looked towards the screen, waiting for the nebula to break away from them. Every noise on the ship seemed to dull and fade away until the room grew deadly silent. As the distance shortened another torpedo impacted on them letting them know their foe was still trailing them. Seconds ticked by dragging on for unquestionable amounts until finally the nebula broke and a backdrop of black dotted with shimmering lights took precedence on the screen. "Send the data file now!" Kloraq anxiously shouted.  
"Sending." replied the comms officer. A brief pause ensued and Kloraq began to impatiently tap his fingers on the chair's armrest. "File sent sir!" she finally said before Kloraq's thin impatience wore out.  
"Turn about and bring the weapons back on-line. Prepare to fire at my command!" Finally their retreat had ceased and they could face the enemy head on like true warriors.  
As the Maq'Tau turned it left a trail of glowing plasma behind it. Though it had several puncture wounds scattered over its hull they didn't detract from its menacing look, but rather added to it. Fiercely they stood their ground as the sleek Romulan foe made its appearance from the thick crimson sea. The moment it had fully left the expanse it halted in its approach, and stood its ground with the same intensity of the Maq'Tau.  
A standoff, Kloraq thought to himself. But who would make the first strike? He would make sure to answer that question swiftly. "Target all weapons on that vessel and open fire!" he zealy said.  
Seconds later several volleys of torpedoes were launched along with several phaser shots directed across the enemy's outer shell. The great bird fired her own phasers and shot down nearly all of the Klingon projectiles before they could make their voyage complete. A number of torpedoes along with the phaser blasts impacted all over the enemy ship, but to the dismay of Kloraq the weapons fire did little more then dent and scratch the ship's covering.  
"How do we stop it sir? If our weapons can do little more then dent it then what hope do we have of defeating it?" The question posed by the ship's tactical officer sounded hopeless but it was still valid.  
Kloraq relaxed back in his chair rubbing his chin. He hoped to find a solution, any solution that would end this situation. His thoughts were interrupted as the Romulans took their turn in this deadly game.   
The Romulans proceeded to fire their phasers over the already bruised Maq'Tau and increased its level of damage. Several shots blasted away hull fragments and punched holes in their hull, littering the surrounding space with debris.  
"What do we do sir? We can't just sit here and take a beating!"  
Kloraq ushered for Latrena to kneel down again so that he could whisper a suggestion to her without the others knowledge. "I can only think of one thing to do Latrena. Only one course of action that could cause that ship's destruction, but it would come with a price."  
As Latrena looked into Kloraq's eyes and listened to his voice she knew exactly what he had in mind. "Are you sure about this? I mean there must be another way." After a moments pause she knew the answer to her question. "Very well sir. If you believe it is the only way then I will support you in this endeavor."  
All Kloraq could do was smile at his enemy turned friend. At the mission's start he hated her, threatened her and was ready to carry his threats out. But now in such a brief time he not only understood her, he liked her. He only wished there was more time for the two of them to be friends. "Helm, set course for the Romulan ship, maximum speed. As we approach fire all our weapons at them," he ordered with a heavy sigh.  
"Planning another daring tactic sir?" the helmsman asked with a grin. It wasn't until after he witnessed the expression on the commander's face did he realize the seriousness of the order. "What are you planning?" he asked hesitantly.  
"The plan is simple." Kloraq said loudly so they could all hear. "Since our weapons don't affect it we are going to ram it. Hopefully the explosion generated by the collision will be enough to destroy it."  
The tone of the bridge changed as the crew came to terms with the order and its explanation. Silently they justified the action in their heads, though they still were unsure about it. "Very well sir, setting course."  
The ship's engines came to life and the Maq'Tau trudged forward toward destiny. Halfway to doom they opened fire in an attempt to do even the slightest of damage. Kloraq looked ahead in anticipation to his journey's end. While he felt like he wasn't committed to this course he knew this was for the best. If they could take out the prototype vessel it could save thousands of lives. And since they sent the data they had to Alliance command it could seriously hurt the Romulans plans, which is the only thing he ever wanted to do. The action was just, as it should be for that is the only reason he or any of his crew would make such a sacrifice. Suddenly he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and his decision was made complete. He placed his hand on Latrena's and gave a smile while he watched the Romulan ship grow in size on the screen.  
As the Maq'Tau headed for its target the Romulan ship opened fire, blasting even more chunks away from the Klingon ship in a vain attempt to stop her. Both vessels continued to exchange fire in a gallant show of force. To view it you would think it as a scene from some movie or epic tale. Time slowed in wait as the vessels continued up until the fiery end. As the Maq'Tau smashed into its target plumes of brilliance engulfed the scene. With its forward sections gone to death the crippled Romulan ship laid in agonizing pain for but a moment before a chain reaction claimed that piece as well. Ripples spread out in all directions in an effort to tell others what had just happened, to tell of the glory that just took place. After becoming satisfied at its purpose it faded and left nothing but dust. 


	8. Koltarn's Commandos

_ Chapter Eight: Koltarn's Commandos_  
  
Mission  
A small group of Alliance commandos has been dispatched to the desert-like moon of Delpox II. There they are ordered to break into a Romulan supply compound and take one of their cloaking devices. Once they have achieved this objective they must survive until a ship comes to evacuate them.  
Mission Date:  
78th day in the 2369th of Molar  
  
Sweat poured from his face down onto the scorched earth. The dry heat was enough to squeeze the perspiration from anyone who dared ventured into the bright rays, but being chased by a group of Romulans sporting disruptor rifles didn't help things any. Slowly he counted down the distance in his head. It was an ever dwindling amount until he reached the safety of camp, which wasn't much, but was always better then running for your life.  
A sudden searing hot beam of energy flew past him, nearly hitting him in the shoulder. Distracted by the near miss he almost didn't hear the second shot which was followed by the dying scream of a comrade. The combination of both events quickened his pace towards the sanctuary.  
'Not going to make it', he said to himself as more shots flew past him. His mind let the world fade around him and the only thing he was aware of was the frantic thumping of his heart and the exhaustion that beat down on him from all over. The weariness in his bones ached him nearly to the pain of giving up. A most dreadful thought crept its way into his head; one of giving up, of being defeated by his foe. Inside his mind he fought such a concept for he was Klingon and he would never surrender to either the enemy behind him or the one inside.  
For awhile he knew only that he was running and to where was nearly lost. A thick brownish haze floated in the air making it hard to see very far ahead. In the distance though a form began to take shape. It appeared to be a sand dune at first, smooth and dome-shaped in design. As he got closer though the object's grayish stone pigment shone and proved that it was no mere dune. Slowly the image grew larger in size and its features grew more distinct. His heavy feet trudged through the soft, loose dirt until he was at the structure's entrance. In a blind leap he dove through the tall rectangular doorway and hit the structure's floor with a loud thud.  
"Commander Koltarn!" came one of the door's guards. Quickly he rushed over to help the sprawled Klingon up to his feet.  
As Koltarn stood up he looked at the guard then at the other one who was busy laying down cover fire for the other troops as they rushed into the building. "Lieutenant Turax, I want you to secure the device as soon as Lukshn brings it in."  
"So you succeeded in retrieving it sir?" The two exchanged glances as three other soldiers made their way through the entrance. Two of them were carrying a heavy case between them and the third had his hand on a dark spot of wetness over his left side.  
"Where's Noktle? And Zor'kat?" the other guard asked as he looked over the party.  
"Noktle was killed back at the base, trying to buy us time to escape. Zor'kat must have been shot in the back while we were en route here." Slowly Lukshn dropped his edge of the case to the floor and turned around to look out the doorway which he just entered.  
"Alright people. We got the device but we aren't through yet. Turax I want you to secure the device in back with the supplies. Lukshn, you and Tamarak are on guard duty. There were a couple Romulans who followed us and they may be out there getting ready to strike. Burmek I want you to look over Charg's wound. Meanwhile I'll be trying to order that evac we were promised." Everyone nodded and proceeded to their assigned tasks.  
Koltarn made his way to the back of the small bunker and entered one of the two rooms placed in the structure's rear. There was only one thing in there but it was the one thing he needed. Placed along the far wall was a small wooden table where various communications equipment was. With a slight grunt Koltarn pulled out a chair from under the table and sat down in it. He cracked his knuckles and surveyed the equipment before trying a message.  
"This is Commander Koltarn. My team has completed our mission on Delpox II and are ready for immediate evacuation. Any Alliance vessel receiving this message please respond." After recording the message he pressed the send button and told it to auto repeat it every five minutes. Slowly he eased back in his chair and placed his feet on the table. A deep sigh was let out as he closed his eyes and thought of the mission he had just finished.  
It had been a simple task, so said the politicians in charge. Sure, just walk into a heavily guarded Romulan base and steal a piece of their most valuable technology. Not like anything could go wrong there could it? But it almost very nearly had. If it hadn't of been for Noktle the whole team would have probably been killed, or worse yet captured.  
The image vividly played over again in his mind. Charg and Zor'kat had stayed at the base's entrance to ensure it was safe to exit when the rest returned. Lukshn and Burmek were busy loading the device into a crate when suddenly an alarm went off, a warning to the Romulans that enemies were nearby. Suddenly as he had turned to face Noktle a disruptor blast struck the soldier in the chest. At first Noktle stumbled a little, coming into the room where he and the other two were. Then as shouts from a Romulan attack group became audible Noktle turned and ran towards them, killing three with his phaser before taking on the others in hand to hand combat. Before the Romulans were able to take him out he had killed two thirds of the force, leaving it small enough to be finished off by Koltarn and Lukshn.  
The moment the last Romulan dropped in death Lukshn ran over to check the body of his teammate. Though Koltarn couldn't see his face through his thick soldier's helmet he knew that his face must have displayed a mix of anger and sadness. Both Noktle and Lukshn were among the best soldiers in the Breen army and they had become very good friends over the years. For a moment Lukshn lowered his head and muttered something which Koltarn neither heard nor understood. Then as if someone had flicked a mental switch in him he stood up and went back to help Burmek. For a Breen Noktle had been a fine warrior, and Koltarn would make sure he had an honorable burial ceremony when they returned back to Alliance territory.  
Footsteps coming into the room caused Koltarn to open his eyes, but he didn't move anything else. A worried look was displayed on Burmek's face as he walked over to the commander, ready to give his report.  
"Sir, Charg's wound is pretty severe. The disruptor blast punched a hole right through his body, breaking at least three ribs and puncturing a lung with it. I bandaged it up tightly but...." He paused for a moment trying to find the right words to go next. "But I'm not a field medic sir. I've done the best I can do."  
Koltarn rose up from his chair and walked over to the Cardassian soldier. He looked deeply at him trying to find the right inspirational words they both were in need of. "That is all you can do Burmek, your best. As long as you do that no one can look down at you or think of you as a failure. Besides, Charg is a Klingon warrior, and Klingon's don't go so easily."  
A small weary smile came onto Burmek's face. "Of course sir. What would you ask of me now?"  
"Go and get something to drink for you and Charg, I bet we are all a little thirsty after running almost four kilometers in the searing heat. Then go help Lukshn and Tamarak guard the entrance."  
"Yes sir." Burmek zealously said before walking out the door.  
The Alliance had given Koltarn a commando team mixed with the three strongest members of the Alliance. There had been three other Klingons besides himself, two Cardassians, and two Breen. At first the thought of having to command any soldier that wasn't Klingon didn't appeal to Koltarn. He hadn't had a high opinion of soldiers from their allies' armies but these were the best troops of their race, and Koltarn had to admit they were good at their job.  
He looked over at the communications equipment and saw that there was a faint transmission coming in. A bit of hope took strength in Koltarn as he flipped a switch which would allow him to listen to the message being received.  
"This is the IKS Korrd to Commander Koltarn. We received only a brief message identifying yourself before the transmission was cut. Please repeat your message so that we may receive a full status report and can properly plan the mission's next phase."  
"IKS Korrd, mission is completed and the team is ready for retrieval. I repeat, mission is completed." Koltarn waited for a moment to see what the ship's commander could offer him. A few anxious moments passed before another transmission came through.  
"This is the IKS Korrd to Commander Koltarn. We received only a brief..." The same message as before repeated through the communications speakers. Apparently the Korrd had not only failed to receive his entire message before but was also unable to receive any further messages he might transmit. Only one possibility as to why this was could shape in the Klingon commander's mind; a Romulan scrambling field. One which would prevent anyone to receive messages from the surface. With a touch of irritation Koltarn flipped the equipment off and tossed the chair aside as he left the room.  
After a brief survey of his team he headed over to where the wounded Charg was carefully propped against a wall. As he knelt beside the warrior he looked over his wound. "Look's like they got you pretty good Charg," he said with a slight smile.  
"Aw its nothing but a minor flesh wound," Charg responded with a hint of pain in his voice. "I'll be back up and ready to save your butt in no time, sir."  
"See that you do Charg. Just one thing though, mind stop bleeding for a moment? You're going to stain your outfit and you know how those politicians hate to spend money for new ones," Koltarn said placing a hand on his comrade's shoulder.  
This provoked a small laugh out of Charg. "Don't worry sir, I won't get it too messy."  
As Koltarn rose up from his crouch he was approached by Turax. Though there wasn't a command structure in the group, aside from Koltarn being the leader, Turax had been unofficially declared the second in command. He had several leadership qualities in him but had never been given the proper chance to display them. Turax had been given a lot of Koltarn's respect on this mission and he had been pleased to see that the respect had not been misplaced.  
"Were you able to get through sir?" Turax asked with slight concern.  
"Only a partial message was able to get through before the Romulans put up a scrambling field," Koltarn said in a low voice so no one besides Turax could hear. "No one will be coming to pick us up as long as that scrambling field is in place."  
A slight noise came from Turax as he started to pace slightly. Koltarn wasn't sure if the noise was a grunt or a sigh but he was certain that it was a sign of his distress. Though he was a good soldier Turax often made his thoughts, and feelings, about situations quite clear. Normally Koltarn would put a subordinate in line for such an action, but Turax was different and he let the little habit slide.  
"We can't stay here sir," Turax finally declared the blatantly obvious. "There is an entire contingent of Romulan troops stationed here and I doubt they would let us leave with one of their cloaking devices." His gaze shifted towards Charg for a brief moment as he lay wounded on the floor. "And Charg won't make it if we can't get him to a medical bay and soon."  
As he sifted through the facts that Turax had just given him, facts he was already well aware of, he tried to come up with some solution. Turax was right about the Romulans. There weren't any Romulans attacking their small bunker at present, but for how long that would remain the case was anyone's guess. Only one thing could come to his mind, one conceivable option that they should take. But the option was a dangerous one and Koltarn didn't feel right making it alone.  
From the storage room he pulled out a metal chair and sat in it as he looked over his attack squadron. "Turax, Burmek please sit down. Lukshn and Tamarak, stay on guard but be sure to devote part of your attention over here. We have things that need discussing."  
Burmek and Turax hesitantly looked at each other before sitting down, not quite sure what to expect. After a wary moment of silence Burmek decided to be the first to speak. "Might I ask what exactly needs discussing?"  
A quick glance from Koltarn was shot towards the Cardassian, but it remained for only a moment before fading away. "Well Burmek, I think everyone should be made aware of all the details at hand before we proceed with the mission."  
Satisfied with the answer Burmek folded his arms against his chest and leaned back into the chair, awaiting the supposed information that was about to be divulged.  
"I'm afraid to report that my attempts to contact an ally vessel were unsuccessful," the commander said, feeling like he had let his team down. "Apparently the message that I sent was picked up by the IKS Korrd, but was cut off briefly. I can only conclude that the Romulans have put up a scrambling field to prevent us from getting outside help."  
Lukshn turned from the door for a moment to look at Koltarn. The expression he wore underneath his helmet was a mystery to all except him, but his posture gave a hint of concern in his being. There was a momentary pause where he stood as still as a statue before finally turning back to face the harsh wild outside.  
"Then we are basically stuck here right?" This time it was Tamarak who chose to express his opinion rather loudly before the group.  
"Well as long as the field is up we won't be able to send a request for retrieval..." Koltarn wandered off in his words as though his mind was busy wandering down a path to some solution that could be of use.  
"So basically we need to take out that field's generator," Lukshn said over his shoulder. "I mean that is where you were going, isn't sir?"  
Not quite knowing how to respond the commander sat there for a moment in an almost awed silence. Though he opened his mouth he didn't speak for a lasting few moments of thought. "I don't see any other way that we could get retrieval."  
"Won't they come after us eventually anyway?"  
Sitting across from him Turax gave the Cardassian an odd look and silently wondered what type of question he had just asked. "No they won't, Burmek. If they don't hear from us then we will be considered dead and they will move on to their next mission."  
"Well that's not very stoic of them, leaving men behind when they don't know whether they are alive or not."  
"Stoic or not that is what we Klingons do. We have neither the time nor the resources to search for every soldier that might be missing. Besides which, we aren't afraid to die in combat."  
"Are you implying that Cardassians are cowards?"  
The two continued fighting back and forth for a few moments until Koltarn stood from his chair and gave them both a strong, stern look which proved very successful in deterring them from continuing. "The situation is this people, they won't come unless we send them a message. As long as the field is up then we won't be able to send a message. Basically, as long as the field is up we are stuck. So that leaves only one option in my opinion."  
"Destroy the field's generator," said the unmoving Breen statue guarding the door.  
"Do you know how many Romulans they must have stationed at that base? Not to mention the fact that the generator won't exactly be placed right out front for anyone to take out. Frankly, I don't think we will be able to pull it off and get back out alive."  
"And what would you have us do instead Burmek? Wait here until the Romulans come for us anyway? No, I think we should attempt to take out that generator. It's the only hope we have of leaving this moon alive."  
Burmek was about to object when suddenly the hand of his Breen comrade was placed on his shoulder. Without making a single sound Lukshn had been able to come up behind the Cardassian before anyone had known he had moved at all.  
"Think about this before you make your decision Burmek. Think about Noktle and Zor'kat who died here today. Who died trying to make sure that our mission was a success. If we don't at least try to destroy that generator, try to complete our mission, then they will have died in vain. Is that what you want Burmek? Do you really want to have them died for a hopeless cause?"  
The small speech spoken by Lukshn had an apparent effect in the Cardassian soldier for his face soon displayed a look of one in thought. He could see the faces of the two soldiers before him, see them before the mission had begun back when they were happy to do something to help benefit the Alliance. For a moment he wondered what they would say given the chance. How they would suggest to proceed.  
"What is your opinion Burmek? Do you believe we should proceed?" the commander asked of the Cardassian.  
Slowly Burmek began to nod his head. "Yes, I believe we should. If not for us, if not for the Alliance, then surely for our fallen comrades Noktle and Zor'kat."  
"So there is a soldier in you after all Burmek," Turax commented.  
"Very well. Everyone prepare to leave in one hour for the Romulan base. Our goal; destroy the generator or die trying."  
"Sir," came the sickly sounding voice of Charg. "You aren't planning on leaving me here are you?"  
Koltarn looked over the wounded Klingon and searched for the right words to say. "Charg," he started, trying to make his words sound free of anything which might be taken as pity. "You're not in a good enough condition to leave, let alone be in a combat situation."  
"Sir," the wounded soldier said looking into his commander's eyes. "I may not be in good shape but you can't leave me here to slowly die alone. We both know that I may still be of some use to this mission, if even a small one. Even if I don't make it through the attack then I will of died in battle with honor, which is what all of us truly want."  
For a silent moment Koltarn sifted over Charg's words in his mind. Though his body might have been wounded his mind was still intact, and it was a mind of a true Klingon soldier. "Alright Charg, you will not be left behind. You will be given the chance to go down in a blaze of glory."  
"Thank you sir," he replied having trouble saying the words.  
"For now rest though, let your body strengthen itself. We will let you know when it is time to leave."  
As Charg dozed into sleep Koltarn went to the supplies in the rear of the bunker. There he found a small flask of bloodwine which he had brought along with him. Slowly he unscrewed the container's lid as not to spill any of the precious liquid. After a brief sip he tightly screwed the lid back on and placed it in a small box. Usually bloodwine was only to be drank after a victory, but Koltarn had found a strange feeling of calm every time he had some and for this reason he had drank quite a bit as of recent.  
The next hour passed surprisingly quick as they prepared for the task before them. As they packed the needed gear everyone was aware of the high chance that most if not all of them would surely be killed on this near suicide mission. It was what needed to be done though, the Alliance needed that cloak if they were to win this bloodshed. After gathering a few things of his own he half reluctantly left the back storeroom and prepared himself to lead his troops into doom.  
As the commander stepped back into the large front room of the bunker Lukshn approached him. "I've just double-checked everything sir, we are ready to go."  
"Well it's not quite been an hour but there isn't much of a reason to wait, is there?"  
"None that I can see, sir."  
"By the way Lukshn, thanks for that speech you gave back there. I think it helped all of us out, not just Burmek."  
"It was nothing sir," he said modestly. "I only said what I felt, what I knew we all felt deep down."  
"Still, they were good words." Koltarn said placing his hand on Lukshn's shoulder. "Let's just hope that we will be able to repeat those words to our fellow soldiers."  
Lukshn stood there looking if he was about to say something, but merely nodded his head. Though he was a brave and capable fighter he too knew the peril they were about to undertake.  
"Is everyone ready then?" the commander asked of his troops.  
"Looks like it sir," Turax replied.  
"Very good then. Let me just get Charg ready to go and we will be off."  
"You aren't serious about bringing him along are you?"  
"Of course I am Burmek. I gave him my word that he would be able to fight, and die, alongside us and my word is one thing that cannot be broken. If you have a problem with that then I suggest you get over it; quickly."  
For a moment Burmek looked a little shocked by the words, but he quickly overcame them and scoffed them off. "Bring him, but don't expect me to drag him along."  
For a brief moment Koltarn glared at Burmek as he increasingly lost patience with the brash Cardassian. "Charg, wake up. It's time to slay some Romulans." As he walked towards the slumbering Klingon he shouted at him several times, thinking of how sound of a sleeper he was. It wasn't until he reached Charg that he realized he wasn't sleeping, not anymore.  
Quickly Turax noticed that Koltarn was standing silently still over Charg. As he approached the two the realization of what had occurred began to hit Turax. All he could do in response was stand still next to his leader and almost silently mutter of how pitiful of a way to die it was.  
"Are we going or not?" Burmek said to the two Klingons, before taking a step towards them. Suddenly though a gloved hand was placed on his shoulder and held him back for a moment.  
As his hand held back his Cardassian comrade Lukshn stepped towards the two Klingons. Slowly he spoke, making sure to choose his words as delicately as possible. "Burmek is right, if not untimely rude. If we are to indeed attempt this then we should act as quickly as possible while we still have a chance at success, which is what we truly need. Not only for those that have died but also for those who have yet to."  
Lukshn's words shook Koltarn from his trance as he suddenly came back to the world. After one more long glance at Charg's slumped body he merely placed his hand on Turax's shoulder before the both of them quietly exited the bunker, followed soon after by their three comrades. For the sake of Charg, Noktle, Zor'kat, and all the others who he had watched die this mission would be completed, or else let him fall down to the ground in death.  
The trek back to the Romulan outpost was a solemn one. Very few words were spoken amongst the group as their feet grew tired and the sun dimmed and faded behind the lunar horizon. It seemed to take double the time for them to reach the installation. Whether this was merely in Koltarn's head or whether it really did take the extra time no one could be sure.  
"So do you have a plan for getting in there, sir?" Tamarak asked, not quite sure of what to do next.  
Looking over the front of the base Koltarn tried to come up with one of those amazing tactical strategies that make their creator a legend, but none came to him. Night had fallen and it was growing hard to see anything clearly. He knew that there was at least three disruptor turrets stationed on the building's roof, but whether they were currently manned only the Romulans knew. The building's main entrance was only a short sprint from the rock cropping where they were, but there was plenty of time for those turrets to pick them off. He just didn't know what to do.  
"Sir, we can't just sit here and stare at it. Is there a problem we should be aware of?"  
"Well they are nearly impossible to see in this light, Turax, but there are three high energy disruptor turrets on the compound's roof. If we were to go charging up to the gates with them manned then I doubt any of us would make it."  
"Well then we will just have to make sure they don't know we are down here, sir."  
"Do you think they installed any sort of security devices after we left? I mean they do know we are here on this moon."  
"There's a strong chance of it, though I can't imagine any such devices could be fully activated already."  
"The longer we sit here the more chance they will have to activate any sort of device. I'm going on ahead. You can follow me if you want." Cautiously Burmek got up from his hiding position amidst the rocks and, crouching low to the ground, began to make his way towards the compound's door. After he had halved the distance he got up from his crouch and turned to gesture his comrades to follow.  
Everything slowed to a crawl in an instant as the Cardassian waved the others on. He stood there with a smirk of defiance on his face as he looked back toward the rest of them. A bright light flashed from somewhere behind him and a high energy sound followed it. Neither Burmek nor any of the others immediately registered what had happened as Burmek's smirked face changed and his body collapsed onto the rocky earth.  
"Burmek!" Tamarak shouted as he scrambled to get over the rocks and to the side of his fallen brother in arms. If it wasn't for the quick action of Lukshn then the other Cardassian would have surely met the same fate as several disruptor blasts flew directly over the two.  
"Sir, in this darkness the turrets can be seen with each blast."  
"Well noted commander had I not of noticed that already. All units open fire at the turrets the moment they become visible." What ensued after that order was a tense fight that could have been seen for miles around had there been spectators. Two of the soldier's shots impacted on a turret and caused it to explode in a brilliant flash of light; sending its operator flying skyward and thumping hard against the ground. Seconds later another explosion followed from the compound's opposite corner.  
"I have to get to Burmek sir!" Tamarak shouted over the loud blasting fire. A look of helplessness flashed in his eyes and Koltarn knew how much he wanted, needed, to go.  
"Go Tamarak, we'll cover you. Lukshn and Turax, concentrate your fire on that middle turret."  
Leaping over the rocks Tamarak went into a crouched sprint the moment his feet touched the ground over to where the body of his fallen comrade lay sprawled on the ground. Carefully he picked up and cradled Burmek's broken body, oblivious to the weapons fire taking place above his head or the final explosion which signaled the end of the Romulan threat. What he was aware of was the life draining from Burmek through a blast wound located between his shoulder blades.  
With the last of the three turrets destroyed Koltarn gave the order to approach the two Cardassians. Slowly the three soldiers made their way across the soil, none really wishing to approach the scene before them. From their vantage it was difficult for them to assess the situation, but it was obviously grim at best.  
As the three soldiers approached Tamarak lifted his head to face them, all the while doing his best to fight back tears. Turax opened his mouth for a moment as if to say something but changed his mind at the last moment. All Tamarak could do was slowly shake his head back and forth before turning his attention back to his fallen friend.  
A few sudden coughs signaled to the others that life still coursed through Burmek's veins, though how much only he knew. Feeling the immense pain in his back he winced a bit then looked up at the faces hovering above him. "What...." was all he could manage.  
"You've been shot in the back Burmek," Tamarak managed to spit out as the others silently stood over him, not sure of what to say. "It's okay though, we made those Romulan scum pay."  
"Good," Burmek coughed out. He felt the sharp pain in his back and the blood seeping from the wound but it wasn't until he saw the look on Tamarak's face did he understand the seriousness of his condition. "I'm not going to....make it am I?"  
"No, of course you are. You just need a little rest and..."  
"Don't lie to me Tamarak," Burmek abruptly interrupted. "We have known each other far too long. Just promise me one thing will you?"  
His emotions started to get the best of him as Tamarak coughed slightly and a few tears went down his face. "Of course my friend. Anything."  
Suddenly several gurgled coughs came from Burmek's throat but he used all of his remaining will to force his last request out. "Don't......fail...." was all he managed to say before he took a final breath and collapsed limply into Tamarak's arms.  
Knowing nothing better to do Koltarn placed his hand on Tamarak's shoulder as he began to cry while he clutched his friend's dead body. "Don't worry Burmek. For your sake, for the sake of Charg, Noktle, and Zor'kat. For the sake of all those who have died and those yet to, we won't." Once he felt that he had spent enough time on the saddening scene Koltarn slowly turned and solemnly made his way to the compound's entrance.  
After giving Tamarak a moment to grieve Lukshn reluctantly picked him up and dusted off his leather outfit. "Tamarak, it's time to go. It's time to finish our mission so that we can finally bring these Romulans to their knees." The words would have tasted horrible in his mouth had words had any flavor to them at all, but he knew the words were needed to convince Tamarak to press on.  
Slowly Tamarak was able to tear his gaze off of the body of his friend and was able to place it on his Breen comrade. "Yes," he said quietly forcing the word out, "we must press on. No matter what happens we must continue so that this tragedy can come to an end."  
Without giving it a thought Lukshn padded his hands on Tamarak's shoulders before waving his hand in the direction of their waiting comrades. A cool breeze began to blow in the dark night and deposited a thin layer of earth on Burmek's cold body as Lukshn and Tamarak turned away from the remains of the soldier with whom they had served with and headed in the direction of their waiting Klingon comrades.  
"Are you two ready to take down some Romulan pa'tahqs?" Turax said with a bit of enthusiasm, but not too much as to take away from the scene which was still too recent.  
"Ready? Turax I don't care who I face or what I know them to have done I will never be ready to kill them, ever. At least, to this I hope to be true."  
"Suit yourself," the Klingon shrugged off  
"Will you two be quiet? Do you want the entire platoon of Romulan soldiers stationed here to be aware of our presence?"  
"Don't you think they already know sir?" the Cardassian soldier asked half looking at the turret remains smoldering on the compound's roof.  
"I'm not sure. I don't hear any sort of alarms going off so I believe we are still safe. Either way we must go in or leave knowing that our mission was for nothing."  
"That I simply cannot accept good sir."  
"Very well, let's proceed then." All four of them slowly nodded to each other before Koltarn opened the door and they entered with notable caution.  
"About how far is it to the field generator?"  
"I'm not exactly certain. If I am correct the room with the generator isn't too far from the storage room where we got the cloaking device. So we have a little distance to cover before we get there, but it shouldn't be a problem as long as we don't run into any Romulan guards."  
"I wonder how many guards the Romulans post during this time of the night," Tamarak whispered to himself.  
"Well the Romulans aren't as dedicated soldiers as we are!" boasted the Klingon lieutenant. "I doubt that they have many on guard at such a late time at night."  
"Are you forgetting our less then subtle entry? I don't care how dedicated their troops are, no one would be able to ignore fiery explosions big enough to shake the building they're in. Not to mention the weapons fire which was less then silent."  
"We get the point Tamarak. Whether Turax's comment is true or not we still haven't heard anything to signal that they know we are here."  
As if by some cruel twist of fate a loud blaring sound suddenly rang out through the corridors. "Attention all troops. A group of Alliance soldiers have infiltrated the facility. It is not known how many there are but they are considered armed and dangerous as they were able to take out the stationed disruptor turrets before entering. Stop them at all costs, capture if possible and kill if necessary." A loud and authoritive Romulan voice stated over an intercom.  
"Well so much for that little touch of fortune," Tamarak said hoping to make it a joke, but quickly saw that this was no time for jokes. "What should we do now sir?" After a momentary pause he looked at Koltarn hoping for some daring answer.  
In one sweeping glance the commander took in the faces of his three subordinates and quickly determined how desperately they needed a daring answer from him. His mind raced for second upon second but only one thing came to him and he blurted it out with all his force. "Run!"  
Turax was the first to turn and head down the hallway, followed quickly by the others. Though he led the pack he quickly opted to slow for a moment to let Koltarn in front. After all he was their leader, and probably the only one among them who knew where the generator's most likely location was.  
Being at the end of the pack made Lukshn the most likely of the four targets, but it was only a flicker in his mind. All he could think about was getting to their destination in one piece and that stayed his only thought until a disruptor blast shot by him, barely missing his right shoulder. "Sir, we've got company!" he shouted as a group of Romulans opened fire behind them.  
"I think we can see that Lukshn!" the Klingon said as he turned his head and fired a shot back at their aggressors. "Don't stop for anything men! We have to make it to the generator no matter the cost," he said hoping to give them the morale boost that they needed to make it.  
The next few moments seemed like nothing but a wild blur. Hearts thumping and feet pounding against the hard metallic flooring the four Alliance commandos ran with all their might. From seemingly everywhere came the shouts of threats and commands spoken by Romulans and disruptor fire seemed to fill the corridor. Throughout the trek the four soldiers fired several shots to take down Romulan aggressors en route without missing a step. After crossing down untold lengths the group's commander veered right and dove into a small room, followed quickly by the other three.  
"Is this the right room sir?" Lukshn asked but quickly withdrew his question when he saw the massive generator against the room's side directly opposite of him.  
"Turax, you and Tamarak guard the door and take out any Romulans that get within sight."  
"With pleasure sir!" Turax zealously replied before taking his post.  
"Lukshn, you will help me take this generator out."  
"Will do sir. Let me just have a look and see what we have to work with." For several minutes Lukshn studied the Romulan generator's components for a means to take it out. As he did so a barrage of screams and phaser fire noise came flooding in, making it hard to concentrate. After a thorough once over Lukshn turned to face Koltarn who anxiously stood next to him. "We have a problem sir."  
"A problem? What kind of a problem?"  
"Well the generator is made of a trilunium alloy, which means..."  
"Which means our weapons won't even make a dent in it," the Klingon abruptly broke in.  
"Exactly sir."  
Koltarn let out a sigh as he looked over the Romulan generator which seemed to mock the two. "See if you can shut it down. We'll just have to hope that we will be able to send out a message before the Romulans can reactivate it."  
"Very well sir. It will take a little bit of time though."  
"Time is not something we have in abundance Lukshn. Do whatever you have to take this out as quickly as possible."  
"Of course sir," Lukshn said before turning back to the generator. He knew that the success of their mission now rested entirely on his shoulders, and he was determined not to fail them. They had already lost so much in this war. So many voices had gone silent, so many faces were no longer able to smile. From his four comrades who wouldn't make it home from this mission to so many others he had seen die throughout his tour of duty. He knew that if they could bring this small piece of technology home it would change the face of this war, for the better.  
With all his focus he studied the generator for some solution. Using the knowledge learned so long ago at the training academy back on the home world he looked over every inch of the towering machine, desperate to find its weakness. Though he tried it was hard to fully concentrate on his task with so much chaotic noise in the background. After a brief moment he determined that it would be near impossible to focus with such a thing happening mere feet behind him. "Hey do you think you guys can be a little quieter? You're making it hard for others to do their work," Lukshn yelled over his shoulder trying to make a point.  
"Sure Lukshn. We'll just tell the Romulans to be a bit quieter in their screams of death. Or perhaps we can convince them to stop all together? Would that help you?" Tamarak said with an obvious note of sarcasm. He turned his head and shook it as he looked at the two standing by the generator. He would have let out a laugh were it not for a small round object which suddenly tapped against his left boot.  
"Tamarak look out!" The Klingon lieutenant tried to shout, but it was too late. A huge explosion erupted from the tiny sphere and sent both of the guards flying off of their feet and into the corresponding walls behind them.  
Reacting without a thought Koltarn ran over to the doorway, but quickly ducked back inside through the thick smoke. "Our time's up Lukshn. I need that generator down now!" The commander ordered as he stepped beside the Breen soldier once more. The moment he did several Romulan soldiers came through the doorway and took only a moment to survey the scene before opening fire. Koltarn quickly retaliated, trying to protect Lukshn as he finished his work.  
Pain rushed to his head as Turax opened his eyes. Across the room he could see Tamarak leaning against the wall bleeding and unconscious. He didn't know if the Cardassian was dead or alive, but that was of little concern as he quickly noticed a small contingent of Romulan soldiers that was flooding into the room. In a flash he took in the entire scene; the Romulans coming into the room, Lukshn frantically trying to deactivate the generator, Koltarn furiously taking down as many enemies as he could. His disruptor was no where to be found but he reached back and took out his other weapon, a trusty dk'tahg blade.  
Without any notice Turax lunged at the Romulans, blade in hand, and proceeded to slash away at the enemy soldiers with a true warriors passion. With a stab he gutted one of the foes, a slice made a deep gash into another's neck. As more and more of his foes fell a green liquid began to coat the entire area. The dead bodies of enemies piled up at his feet and Turax let out a victorious roar and flashed his sharpened teeth in delight as he continued to cut and slice away at his enemies flesh. This continued seemingly forever until he turned to face his commander in a salute of tribute. That salute fell short though as a disruptor blast struck the fierce Klingon's chest. His expression suddenly changed in the same fashion as Burmek's had done earlier before Koltarn's eyes as Turax slumped to the floor and his body joined those of his slain enemies.  
The sight of his comrade falling in death enraged Koltarn and he wanted to slit each Romulan's throat and shout some justification as they lay dieing at his feet. Deep down he knew though that blind rage wouldn't do him much good, nor would it do any good for Turax. While his friend was dead he knew that for his sake the mission must be completed. Quickly he glanced over at Lukshn who was still frantically working on bringing down the generator. It was hardly worth doing now. Koltarn knew that neither he nor Lukshn would survive; that they would soon meet the others fate. Perhaps though there was still a bit of hope. The cloaking device they had stolen earlier was still tucked safely away back at their bunker, and perhaps maybe the Alliance could retrieve it before the Romulans did. His only hope, and he was desperate to cling to it and to do whatever it took to make it a reality.  
As the Romulans started to enter the small room Koltarn fired shot after shot from his phaser and downed enemy after enemy almost the second they came into view. The dead began to pile up at the room's entrance as Koltarn took step after step towards it, all the while not letting up in his attack. In an almost cinematic fashion the scene played out, Koltarn continuing to fire and the Romulans continuing to pile up dead. When the commander reached the spot where his comrade fell in death he slowly bent over and picked up the dk'tahg blade which was still clutched in Turax's hand. With this in hand he let flood all the rage and passion that boiled inside him, which in turn gave his assault a new awesome fearsomeness which mimicked Turax's, but clearly surpassed it. He sliced and cut all the while continuing to fire, slaying dozens of Romulans. Throughout the fierce chaos one thing was clear; Koltarn enjoyed it. In fact he reveled in the bloodbath he was creating. More and more enemies fell and with more bodies at his feet the more he became entwined in it. An almost primal energy coursed through his veins as he fought in near god-like fashion. To his detriment though was the fact that he became so involved within the fight, within himself, that he failed to notice a Romulan soldier sneak up behind him and was completely oblivious to the enemy soldier until he felt something metallic hit him hard in the neck. By then though it was to late. His legs began to give out and he stumbled to the ground. With all his strength he tried to continue the fight, to try and give Lukshn the chance needed to complete this most crucial of missions. Unfortunately for him will alone could not prevail as he closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.  
With all his attention focused on the task Lukshn was still vaguely aware of what was happening behind him. He heard the small explosion and the bodies of the two guards being tossed aside. He knew of the fate of Tamarak and knew the fierce attack from Turax which ended in his death. And also he was vaguely aware to the fate of his Klingon commander. Through all this though he stayed committed to his task, not wanting to fail his comrades as they fell in death around him. Taking down the generator was impossible, this Lukshn knew quite well. However in his rushed but thorough study of the machine he had found a way to piggyback an Alliance transmission out on one of the Romulans subspace courier waves. Hopefully someone would be listening and all this senseless chaos would not have been in vain.  
Suddenly the disruptor fire died and was replaced by a Romulan, probably the platoon leader, ordering Lukshn to cease. Immediately he ignored the order from his enemy and continued on his task. He was so close now, so close to being able to send out the Alliance's last and best hope for winning this bloodbath. A feeling of success washed over him as he finalized the setup. Now all that was needed to send out the message of hope was one final button to be pressed. Underneath his standard issue gray helmet he flashed a smile as he reached for his prize. A loud electric sound and a sharp pain would rob him of his prize though. The disruptor blast had hit him in his back and the pain from it caused him to fall upon the ground. As he looked up a tall Romulan stood over. He cursed something at Lukshn in his alien tongue then spit onto the visor of Lukshn's helmet. This he could not, would not accept. He refused to accept defeat in this mission. So he did the one course of action left in his darkening mind. With all of his remaining strength he kicked the Romulan's leg, forcing him to stumble forwards into the machine and into a glowing red button. Quickly the angered Romulan got up and retaliated with a swift kick to Lukshn's helmeted head. Darkness came to the Breen soldier's eyes, but he knew it was too late. The message had been sent and the Alliance had a chance to defeat their enemy once and for all. This was his hope and it was all that was on his mind as he fell into the awaiting abyss. 


	9. Cloaks of Deception

_ Chapter Nine: Cloaks of Deception_  
  
Mission  
The Kraylor is en route to the upcoming Alliance meeting on Narendra III, having just finished a transaction with a Yridian trader. While the cargo's contents remain shrouded in mystery the Kraylor's commander, Daimon Tierzak, assured the crew that it is vital to the mission he and the Cardassian Gul Duren started.  
Mission Date:  
105th day in the 2369th of Molar  
  
With a hand on a container Tierzak looked around the room with a sweeping gaze, taking in all the cargo that the room held. Soon this cargo would prove very helpful in his and Gul Duren's quest. No one knew it either, and that was probably the best part of this plan. After all how could some seemingly busted scraps of technology that he bartered off an old Yridian help him and his Cardassian ally to take down the Overseer? That only he knew, but the others would know soon enough.  
All of that was in the future though, and for the moment he needed his mind on the present. As he made sure that the last of the cargo containers was secure the bay's door opened behind him and in walked his first officer. An agitated look was displayed on the Ferengi officer's face and he carried a small P.A.D.D. in his right hand. With a slight smile Tierzak took the P.A.D.D. from his officer and took one last look around the room before he gestured for them to depart.  
Outside of the room a young and nervous looking Ferengi stood there with a standard issue phaser rifle. "Ensign, see that no one enters this room except me. I don't want our cargo to be disturbed until the conference."  
"Yes of course sir!" the young officer said, suddenly straightening his posture in an attempt to make himself a more menacing foe to any that dared enter.  
The two higher up Ferengi turned away from the cargo bay and began to make their way down the corridor as Tierzak flashed another grin, finding the stature of the young ensign to be amusing.  
"You can't stop grinning can you sir? Meanwhile I'm the one who keeps getting all the flak for our performance. You know I was asked again how much longer it would take for us to leave orbit?"  
"No I didn't," the daimon responded in his typical high nasal voice. "That must be close to a dozen times now. What did you tell them?"  
"Same thing I've told them for the past six days sir," Kreplar said with a sigh added on for effect. "That we were still searching the planet for survivors."  
"How valiant they must think we are to still be looking for survivors on Luxos III. That planet is dead, the Romulans made sure of that."  
"I know that sir, and I think that they are starting to believe that as well. However if they believe we are still searching nearly two weeks after the attack..."  
"Don't worry about them Kreplar, they know nothing," Tierzak suddenly interrupted. "They aren't the ones out here, their not the ones fighting....and dying."  
"If you say so sir. How is our cargo?" the Ferengi first officer said, trying to quickly change the subject.  
"Just fine Kreplar. Bolted down and secured tightly until I need it."  
"Then it is what you expected it to be?"  
Immediately the Ferengi daimon knew what his first officer was doing; fishing for an answer. An answer that would explain the contents of the mysterious cargo and a purpose for such secrecy. Tierzak wasn't giving out answers though, not on this and not today. It was a secret only to be known by him and his friend Gul Duren until the right moment. "Yes of course it is," he said trying to be as brief with his answer as possible.  
His commander had known his intent and had swiftly dodged the issue. "It's just that as a neutral party in our war with the Romulans there was a chance that the Yridian could try and cheat us," Kreplar said, hoping to rid Tierzak of any ill feelings he might be harboring.  
Amused by the nervous tactic used by his companion Tierzak began to grin, but stopped at the last moment as to not outwardly show any feelings he might have towards Kreplar. "Your concern is noted, but not warranted. The Yridian came through and provided me with exactly what I requested. Besides Kreplar, neutral or not no one dare cross the Regent."  
"The Regent? What does he have to do with this?" Suddenly Kreplar became very confused, as though the name of the Regent turned all of his beliefs upside down.  
Tierzak picked up on this and could no longer contain his amusement. With a devious Ferengi style grin across his face he reached into a pocket placed on the inside of his shirt. What his hand pulled out was a small slip of paper which was handed to the other Ferengi.  
After taking the slip of paper Kreplar studied it for several moments, making sure not to miss a single thing that might be on it. "This is from the Regent himself!" he shouted the obvious. "So the cargo is for the Regent?"  
"Correct." the daimon said briskly, still grinning.  
"But when did you have the chance to receive such a note? How could the Regent of been aboard and I not informed?"  
"Don't worry Kreplar, you didn't miss him. In fact the Regent has not been aboard since my installation as daimon of this vessel eight months ago."  
"But?" was all the confused Ferengi could spit out as his questions piled up.  
"All I'll say is that while the slip your holding does indeed carry the Regent's mark, he himself did not put it on that slip."  
"Forgery?" Kreplar whispered, hoping that he had not just bore witness to one of the most terrible crimes in the Alliance.  
"Kreplar you are my first officer and in the months since I took command of this vessel you have been invaluable. I have let you in on every major decision concerning this vessel and its crew. So believe me when I say that this you can't have any part in. That cargo is of vital importance to the stability of the Alliance, and could perhaps help us in unseen ways to end this war of ours with the Romulans. It's importance will become relevant in the weeks ahead, but until then I must ask you to forget it and say nothing of it's existence to any soul. Can I trust you to do this?"  
Slowly digesting and reviewing what he had just been told Kreplar started to nod his head. His questions were still more numerous then he could count but if his friend, his daimon, told him to trust in his judgment then that is what he would do. It was the only thing he could do. Only one question remained on his mind though, one that he just couldn't lay rest. "What is in those cargo containers sir?"  
"The future Kreplar, or at least it's salvation." the daimon cryptically replied as they finally reached their destination, the ship's bridge.  
As the automated doors opened onto the bridge several officers turned from their stations to greet their commanding officer. Tierzak gave each of them a small nod in acknowledgement as he made his way across the room until he arrived at the plush daimon's chair. He sat down and eased back into it so that he could become fully relaxed, or as relaxed as a daimon could be on a ship in the middle of a war.  
With his eyes little more then slits he laid back into the chair and was nearly startled by a young Ferengi officer who cleared his throat as he stood next to the daimon. Tierzak opened his eyes and began to give the young officer an agitated look before he noticed the small P.A.D.D. that was being handed him. He grabbed the P.A.D.D. and waved the officer away, which he swiftly did.  
On the P.A.D.D. was displayed the basic operating conditions of the vessel. Propulsion, weapons, sensors, navigation, it all appeared to be in order. This was nothing more then a menial status report, which did nothing to calm his agitation. Didn't they think that he had better things to do then read a lengthy report that did little more then say that everything was normal? With a twinge of disgust he waved Kreplar over and handed him the report. Surely this was more of a task for him and less for Tierzak. Slipping back into his half conscious state he lazily asked his helm officer how long it would take before they reached the Klingon outpost on Narendra III.  
"At current speed we will arrive in approximately ten days sir," was the quick reply.  
Just as much as he wanted. It was about that amount of time before the Alliance meeting took place so they would arrive just in time. Considering the distance it would be easy for them to make it appear as though they had came directly from their search of the base on Luxos III. Of course a thorough investigation could reveal that they hadn't been there more then a few days, but why would anyone come to believe that a loyal Ferengi ship had outright lied to them? After all they were all one big happy fleet. Besides, the council would learn what they needed to during the proceedings anyway. Tierzak was going to make sure of that.  
Though he was exhausted a surge of excitement rushed through him. After the months of planning it looked as though he and his Cardassian collaborator finally had all the evidence they needed to get rid of the Overseer once and for all. And what better of a platform to present this evidence then the upcoming Alliance meeting? There they would be able to show it to the representatives of all the major parties of the Alliance, including the Regent himself. Tierzak couldn't help but grin as he envisioned the look that the stunned Overseer might have once her true allegiances were brought to light. What a day it would be, and with a full ten days before the meeting he had plenty of time to rest and choose exactly what his words would be. The only thing now was one last chat with Duren before they presented their case.  
Dozing in his chair he was suddenly roused by the soft curses of an officer located at one of the aft stations. He only opened his eyes the slightest bit, hoping that the disturbance would soon be over with and that he would be able to get some rest. To his dismay though not only did the disturbance not go away but only grew in intensity. Sitting up in his chair he strained his large Ferengi ears to try and hear what all of the commotion was. After a moment of listening he was able to pick up that it was coming from the sensor station, yet he still couldn't figure out why. Standing up now he looked in the direction that the sensor station was located and analyzed the situation. From what he could see Kreplar and the officer manning the sensor station were having some sort of discussion that they obviously felt wasn't important enough to bring to their daimon's attention. Well, either way it had woken him up and that made it important enough to Tierzak. "What? What is it?" Tierzak asked of the two, a touch fatigued and a touch angry.  
The sudden unexpected questioning startled the sensor officer and he quickly turned to face his questioner. "Oh it's.....nothing to be concerned of daimon. Just a minor glitch in the sensor resolution." responded the officer, hoping to once again be on his commander's good side.  
"Nothing to be concerned of? You sure are making a lot of racket over nothing to be concerned of. That and the fact that if it was nothing to be concerned of then you wouldn't need to bring it to the attention of Kreplar would you?" The situation had upset Tierzak and his tone showed it. Silence fell for a moment as the attention of all the current bridge crew was turned to their daimon and to the sensor officer.  
At sensing so many eyes focused on him the sensor officer became a bit nervous. He began to slowly rub his hands together as he looked at Tierzak, who was standing there for an answer. Thankfully it was Kreplar who came to his rescue.  
"Sir, there's just a minor glitch with the sensor resolution which is producing ghost images. It's only a small problem, but protocol dictates that any problem should be reported to a commanding officer. That here is exactly what Menk did."  
"Ghost images? What sort of ghost images?"  
"Feel free to take a look if you wish, sir. It is my opinion however that it's only a minor glitch."  
"I believe I will do just that Kreplar. Besides, a proper daimon should be aware of the goings on aboard his vessel at all times." Tierzak glared at a few officers, which all quickly turned back to their stations, before making his way to the sensor station. With each step in his stride he gave off an air of superiority to make sure that none of his officers' opinion of him diminished in the slightest. Once he arrived at the station he looked at Menk for a moment, sizing him up a bit, before gesturing to him to show what the apparent problem was.  
"As you can see, daimon, there is a large sensor ghost here in grid forty-six by nineteen," Menk said as he pointed to it on the display screen.  
"And you're sure it's not some natural phenomenon?" While he trusted his officers' judgments he wanted to be sure that any avenue was explored before they dismissed it.  
"Yes sir. This sector has been thoroughly charted by the Klingons and there is no record of such an occurrence."  
Raising an eyebrow Tierzak looked at his two officers. "We all know that Klingons are not 'thorough' in anything but affairs of war."  
"True as that may be sir, I stand by my assessment," Menk confidently replied.  
Tierzak was about to let the matter drop and move to asking how they could fix the glitch until something caught his eye. He blinked, then looked at the screen again. "What grid did you say that disturbance was in again Menk?"  
"Grid forty-six by nineteen sir. Why?"  
"Because I think the disturbance just moved." All three officers closely examined the disturbance, then examined it again to make sure. The disturbance had in fact moved, and moved towards the Kraylor.  
Kreplar turned to Tierzak, a look of concern on his face. Both of them obviously were thinking the same question, but Kreplar felt a need to say it nonetheless. "You don't think that it's..." but he couldn't bring himself to say it, for fear that it would come true if he did.  
"Nonsense. That disturbance is huge, too big to be an enemy vessel. Besides, you know as well as I do that our sensors wouldn't be able to pick them up if they were cloaked."  
"Cloaked?" Menk blurted out as he suddenly realized what the two commanding officers meant. At the word's mentioning everyone turned from their station again to face the daimon.  
There was a hint of fear, a hint of uncertainty in Kreplar's voice as he spoke. "Let's be sure either way sir."  
"Very well Kreplar. Put this grid on the main view screen."  
A field of stars blinked their way onto the screen, but nothing more. Not a wisp of stellar dust, a hunk of alloy, nor any sort of visual disturbance. Everyone seemed to calm themselves a bit as the evidence pointed back to the explanation of a sensor glitch. Tierzak began to don his Ferengi grin again as he looked over the screen.  
Suddenly without an iota of warning a brief disturbance appeared, followed by another, and still another. One by one various wavy disturbances took form across the screen and lasted for but a few seconds before they were replaced by death itself. Tierzak's grin turned almost instantly to dread and he had only but a few seconds to order the shields raised before the first blast of death struck them, shaking the ship horribly.  
Frantically Tierzak tried to make his way across the bridge and to his chair. The first blast had struck them before they were able to raise their shields and had caused the ship to quake. With the shields raised the shaking had lessened, but not by much. As he made it to his chair Tierzak tried to piece together everything in his mind. The attack had came so suddenly, so abruptly, that he hadn't been given the time to have any sort of rational thought. "Damage report!" he shouted out over the noise, unable to think of anything better to do.  
"Aft shields are down to thirty percent. We've taken moderate damage to engines and navigation. Also structural integrity on the aft sections of decks thirteen through sixteen have been severely weakened." The report came from somewhere behind the captain's chair, but with all the explosions and shaking it was too hard to make out from exactly where.  
Tierzak took in a breath, almost not believing that so much damage had been inflicted in such a short time. "Get us out of here helm, best speed!"  
"Trying sir!" the helm officer shouted. "Our warp engines are pretty bruised sir, I doubt we will be able to create a stable warp field."  
"Just do it lieutenant! Tactical, do you have a number on how many vessels are behind us?"  
"It's hard to tell sir. I'm picking up more then three dozen separate warp signatures, but I can't be more specific then that."  
A shocked and near terrified look came across the daimon's face at the realization of what was just reported. Why would three dozen warbirds be in this sector of space? It seemed to Tierzak to be an area of little value to either side as nothing vital was present. No bases, no resources, no ships, aside from them. So what could be their objective? Whatever it was they surely didn't have the time to find out. If they didn't do something spectacular then they would surely be destroyed.  
Faintly came a voice stating that aft shields were down before another blast hit them and shook the ship so violently that it knocked Tierzak flying out of his chair. "Sir, we're leaking warp plasma! At this rate we'll be nothing but dust in minutes!"  
"Maximum speed in any direction helm!" the daimon ordered as he tried to pick himself up off the floor. "Tactical, fire all of our aft launchers and phaser banks at the Romulans."  
"Targeting sensors are down sir!"  
"Then fire manually! There's enough of them that your bound to hit one of them."  
For several more minutes the battle raged on. Several of the Romulan warbirds opened fire on the Ferengi marauder in an attempt to quickly dispose of it. Leaking plasma and staggering forward the Kraylor made an almost vain attempt to do some measure of damage to it's attackers. Engines failing, the Kraylor began to slow it's speed until it finally couldn't move at all. At this point a handful of the warbirds began to circle it like vultures as they prepared to finish the Ferengi ship once and for all.  
Tierzak looked at the view screen which displayed the Romulan ships around them through a layer of static. As he witnessed them close in on the Kraylor he knew that he was about to face the end, about to die here before having the chance to complete his most vital mission. Suddenly a beam above him came loose and fell down, striking the back of his head. Quickly his body fell to the ground and as he heard his crew shouting around him he closed his eyes and fell unconscious.  
Slowly Tierzak began to hear them. It was hard for him to make out exactly what they were saying at first, but slowly it came to him. Through the pain he was able to open his eyes and look up at the face of his first officer. Squinting in disbelief he muttered, "Crud, this isn't the Divine Treasury. I must of done something to warrant being sent to the other place."  
Suddenly Kreplar burst out laughing, though his laugh was obviously weakened. "No sir, you're still alive. For some reason we are all still alive."  
"What?" the wounded daimon blurted out in shocked amazement. "But the Romulans..." he started to say before a wave of pain forced him to stop.  
"Sir, the Romulans are gone. They took off right before we were destroyed." As Kreplar spoke an arm came into Tierzak's view and held a scanning device above his head.  
"The Romulans what?" Tierzak confusedly asked as he made a vain attempt to push the scanning device away.  
"Daimon, please hold still. I haven't finished determining your condition," came a new voice that was just out of the daimon's view.  
"Doctor, just give me your report and leave."  
"Have it your way sir," the doctor said as he resumed his scanning.  
"We haven't figured out why sir, but mere seconds before they had us destroyed they suddenly ceased fire and took off."  
"You have a mild concussion sir. A shot of droxlymide will help relieve the pain."  
"Very well doctor." Tierzak said, trying to get rid of the doctor as quickly as possible. As he was administered the drug, via an injection behind his right lobe, he mulled over the information. Why would the Romulans spare them right before they were destroyed? In fact, why would they spare the Ferengi ship at all? They were at war after all. Nothing was making sense, and it was doing nothing to help his throbbing headache.  
As the doctor headed off to treat another injured crew member Tierzak slowly stood up, with a bit of help from Kreplar. For a moment the daimon thought of scowling at his first officer for the assistance, but didn't since he knew that Kreplar only had good intentions. Unlike some of their allies the Ferengi were not barbarians and overall had a fundamental respect for their kind. Of course there were a few who didn't, but that was a fault shared by all races. "Do you have an estimate on the damage Kreplar?" This was a question that no daimon would want to ask, but in such times of war it had become a saddening necessity.  
"Well daimon, shields and weapons have been destroyed. I doubt that either can be of any use without a two or three week repair at drydock. Engines took a beating, but they are already being worked on and low warp should be available within an hour. Sensors will take a bit less time to bring back on-line, and we also took a considerable beating to our hull and integrity is currently only at thirty-two percent."  
"Life support?" the daimon asked, wanting to make sure that the most vital of systems was stable.  
"Hardly any damage was affected to life support. Repair crews had that as their top priority and there shouldn't be any problems with it."  
"Good," Tierzak said as he mentally assessed the damage. "As long as we can still arrive at Narendra III on time then there will be no need to officially report this attack."  
"But sir..." Kreplar said a bit taken back by his commander's comment. "Why would we not report this attack to the council?"  
With a sudden fierceness in his eyes Tierzak looked at Kreplar and simply said "And are you going to explain to the council how we were attacked by a Romulan fleet while we were supposedly in orbit around Luxos III, searching for survivors?"  
That had been something not considered by Kreplar. In the midst of the attack and the confusion left after he had completely forgotten the deceit dealt by them in order to pick up the mysterious cargo. Obviously they could not outright declare this attack without an onslaught of near impossible to answer questions. "Couldn't we just claim to have been attacked en route to the meeting?" Kreplar hoped that he had just solved their dilemma, but Tierzak's look said otherwise.  
"A fleet of that size will be picked up eventually by Alliance sensors, or by another ship. The Romulans may have cloaking technology but that doesn't mean they are completely invisible to the Alliance. And with that many ships the chance of detection only increases."  
"What about an attack by a smaller group? Maybe only two or three vessels strong?"  
"That story would be more plausible, however anyone who digs deep enough will still be able to punch holes in the story. The route from Luxos III to Narendra III leads deep within Alliance territory. Plus it goes through an asteroid field and two theta nebulas, not exactly high on the Romulan's list of battlefields."  
At this point Kreplar was becoming frustrated. There had to be some way they could explain this attack before the council without being put through a board of inquiry. And even if they were able to cover up the fact that an attack occurred there was still damaged systems and lost crew members to be explained. This fact was bound to make any cover up impossible. "Sir, some of this just isn't easy to dismiss. If no attack occurred then what of the damage? And the casualties?" Kreplar said with a concerned look.  
"I have connections in the Ferengi Trade Alliance that will be able to help us. They'll inform the families of our lost crew and see to our repairs covertly at a Ferengi dock. No one else in the Alliance will know of this."  
"And you're telling me that all this can be done without our allies knowledge? It's hard for me to believe that we can cover this up so well." While he doubted Tierzak, Kreplar still respected him. And if they were to proceed with this course of action then he wanted to be sure there was no way that their cover up could be discovered. If such a thing ever came to light it could not only spell their doom, but the doom of the entire Ferengi race.  
"Who would question, Kreplar?" Tierzak asked with a touch of defiance. "The Klingons? No they are too blood thirsty to care of such a thing. Perhaps the Breen then? Doubtful, as they too are so wrapped up in this war to devote the resources needed to uncover this. The Cardassians are our closest ally and they have a hand in this secret mission as well. Our other allies are too weak to even try."  
"Very well daimon," Kreplar said adding a silent sigh to it. "Is there anything else that you need?"  
"Yes Kreplar. While the crew works on repairing the ship you and I are going to try and figure out why the Romulans stopped in their attack." Tierzak looked over his first officer for a moment, noticing that he could see no visible wounds, before he slowly and painfully walked over to a data computer console located next to Menk's sensor one.  
After reaching the station he leaned against it. Obviously he had suffered more of an injury than either he or the doctor had first thought. Either way though it was quickly pushed to the back of his mind. This was not the time for him to sit there and lick his wounds. There had to be some reason, some unknown explanation for the Romulan's odd tactic. Why would they let a crippled enemy live? It was a question that Tierzak needed to answer. To him it was like some annoying itch that one couldn't help but scratch.  
A few moments passed before Kreplar joined his commander at the computer station. To him the reasons as to why the Romulans spared them were insignificant. The fact was they were still alive. What did it matter why? But if Tierzak wanted to pursue this course of action then Kreplar wasn't about to stand in his way. Besides, he was in need of a distraction to keep himself busy until they could get underway again.  
Thinking of various reasons wasn't going to help him find the truth. This fact Tierzak realized almost instantly. But where was he to begin? Perhaps if he were able to figure out their flight path then an objective might be revealed. "Do we know which way the Romulan fleet headed after attacking us?"  
"Well we were kind of assuming that we were about to die, sir. Tracking where they were headed wasn't exactly a priority at the time."  
"I know that Kreplar," Tierzak shot back, feeling patronized. "But nonetheless our sensors might of been tracking them anyway."  
"Well we can check the sensor logs, see if they reveal anything." With all the damage Kreplar doubted they would find anything. Add to that the fact that their sensors weren't already set to actively track the Romulan fleet and searching the logs was nearly an exercise of futility. If it pleased the daimon though to try, then Kreplar would by all means help then.  
As the sensor logs began to appear on the screen Tierzak visually scanned them. The first ones to appear were a few weeks old, and the commanding Ferengi quickly told the computer to skip to the most recent entry. To the surprise of both Kreplar and Tierzak a small index appeared of sensor logs taken during the battle with the Romulans.  
"I didn't figure there would actually be logs of the battle, especially ones in this detail," Kreplar said in a bit of shock.  
"Don't let your jaw drop Kreplar," Tierzak replied with a grin. "Just consider it a touch from another fine officer of ours. Looks like Menk continued to scan the 'disturbance' even after we found out what it was. Where is Menk anyway? I should thank him for this."  
"Well sir." With Tierzak's question Kreplar's mood changed instantly and dramatically. In a silent moment he tried to carefully choose his words, but there really was only one way to go about it. "Menk was injured when the console beside his exploded. He's in sick bay right now, but he isn't expected to last long."  
"I see," was all that Tierzak could say in response. Like his first officer, Tierzak showed a bit of concern. However, it lasted only but a moment before he turned back to the logs.  
With their attention back on the work before them the two Ferengi officers carefully examined the last few logs recorded. As they did the daimon's hope came true as one of the last entries revealed the direction in which the Romulan ships were headed. But what struck Tierzak as being odd was exactly that; their heading. It seemed to him like they left in a rush to travel to some of the most desolate regions in Alliance space. "Unless..." he whispered as something struck him.  
"Sir? Did you find something of importance?" Kreplar asked hoping for answers to at least some of the questions that flooded his mind.  
"Perhaps," was all that Tierzak would say before walking as quickly as he could to his office. Quickly Kreplar followed him in an effort to put together some of the pieces before him.  
Inside the plush office Tierzak called up a star chart for the local region on a large viewscreen set in one wall. As Kreplar made his way into the room Tierzak had the computer put the heading of the Romulan fleet on the map. His mouth dropped a bit in shock before Kreplar finally spoke.  
"Sir, could you please explain to me what is going on? Obviously you've found something out and I would like to know what it is."  
With a slight wave of his hand Tierzak gestured for his first officer to join him in front of the viewscreen. Respectfully Kreplar obliged his commander and stood beside him as they looked at the star chart. After a moment the daimon walked to stand just in front of the chart, and to point out his discoverie's relevance as clearly as he could.  
"Okay Kreplar, from this we can reasonably determine where the Romulan fleet came from and where they were headed, assuming that they didn't do any number of major course changes." Kreplar slowly nodded his head as he took the information in, showing his commander that he understood everything thus far. "Now using the Romulan's course that they were on after leaving the computer has narrowed down their approximate destination to three sectors." After tapping a button on the viewscreen's control the image zoomed in and focused on the three sectors.  
"Nurh'qlar, Q'osk, and Juhtlac" Kreplar said as he read over the systems names. "Three pretty unremarkable sectors. Why would any of these be of interest to the Romulans sir?" As far as he knew there was nothing but barren worlds in two of the systems, and a binary star made travel nearly impossible in the third.  
"Well Kreplar don't feel as though you've missed something," Tierzak said reassuringly. There was something in his mood, his gesture though gave his first officer the impression that something big was about to be revealed. "What I'm about to tell you only a select few have been told. I can trust you to not reveal this to anyone, correct?" There was a noticeable emphasis on the word anyone as Tierzak, as serious as he could, stared at Kreplar.  
"Of course sir," Kreplar reassured his commander. "Have I ever given you a reason to doubt my loyalty?"  
Tierzak sighed briefly for a moment before replying, "No, of course not Kreplar. You have been one of the most loyal officers I have ever served with. But this level of secrecy demanded the question to be asked nonetheless." This fact intrigued the Ferengi commander and he sat up straight as to make sure to get every detail of what he was about to be told. "There's a secret Klingon shipyard in the Q'osk sector, orbiting the fifth planet."  
Kreplar stood still as he took in the information. At first he was shocked at such news, but then something else took over. Anger at first to an extent, for not being let in on this secret, and then a sense of panic. If there was a Klingon shipyard then that had to be the Romulan fleet's target. "What were they developing sir? I'm curious as to why a Klingon shipyard would be put in such a desolate region and then why so few were told of it's existence."  
Bringing his hands together the Ferengi daimon took a step forward. In his mind he was going over what he should, and what he could tell his first officer. "The Klingons were developing a new class of ship there. Jach'eng, I believe was what they were calling it. Well this Jach'eng class was to be outfitted with an antimatter detonator powerful enough to destroy a moon or small planet. Plus it would be able to take out any Romulan vessel or base in orbit."  
A new wave of shock washed over Kreplar as he imagined the awesome power such a ship would contain. "Well I can understand why the Romulans would wish to stop such a vessel from coming on-line. A devastation to them like that without any risk to ourselves would surely be an advantage."  
"There is a small risk. Due to the need of stealth in order to get this weapon in position it would require a small crew. Twenty or thirty officers strong is what was estimated."  
"But sir, with an explosion of that magnitude there is no chance of survival for the crew."  
"I know that Kreplar. Everyone knows that." Tierzak began to rub his hands before looking at his first officer sternly. "Don't you think that twenty lives are worth sacrificing for the deaths of thousands of enemy soldiers? And that's just soldiers, add the fact of all the ships and bases that could be taken out."  
"But still sir..." Kreplar began to say before being interrupted.  
"But nothing Kreplar. We're at war here. And I don't know if you noticed but we aren't exactly winning either. If we have to sacrifice twenty loyal troops to save twenty billion loyal citizens don't you think we should? Besides, warriors or not the Klingons are growing tired of this conflict. We've lost too many in this bloodbath and they are eager to destroy the Romulans, at any cost."  
Though they were but words, they still had an impact on Kreplar. He still did not agree with the tactic, but he did understand it. After all he had seen and all he had been through Kreplar was as 'eager' as the next soldier to end this conflict. One thing still was on his mind though. "If this base was a secret, so much so that only a handful of top Alliance soldiers knew of it, then how would the Romulans know about it?"  
"That I have a theory to, but only a theory. All I know is that the first Jach'eng was to have been sent out three days from now to strike the Romulan shipyards at Heyati II. Its glorious first mission and unveiling was to be a major point at the upcoming Alliance meeting. But if this truly was the Romulan's final destination then..." Tierzak's words trailed off as his mind created what was sure to happen.  
"Sir, if they think that they are as well hidden as you've said then they don't stand a chance." It was already what the Ferengi daimon had come to, but was afraid to say for fearing that the words would make it truth.  
The two Ferengi exchanged a momentary glance before Tierzak rushed back out onto the bridge. "What's the status of our engines?" he asked of the first officer he saw.  
"Partial warp power has been restored daimon," responded one of the nearby officers. "We can make a maximum of warp four, but no more."  
"The Q'osk system is nearly a full days travel at that speed." As Tierzak sat down in his chair, which was noticeably scarred from debris falling on it, he cursed something to himself. "Alright helm engage at warp four to Q'osk V. In the meantime someone get on increasing our speed, it's to be your top priority. We must reach that planet as quickly as possible."  
The present crew gave each other puzzled looks about their daimon's sudden orders and behavior change. Whether they understood or not his reasoning they did understand that he was their leader. Within moments each officer shrugged off their confusion and went about their orders.  
From there on the trip was a slow one. Tierzak sat in his chair with only his thoughts and the obvious look of anxious on his face. Kreplar stood faithfully next to his commander and addressed the various crew members as they reported ship and crew status. The rest of the crew went about their various routine of meals and rest, and the crew rotations took place as normal. However, unlike the rest of the officers the two commanders stood vigilant at their post, awaiting their arrival.  
Over the course of the trip more speed was eventually gained, but not much. The engineering crews were able to boost the Kraylor's top speed to warp seven and that was as high as was possible without a complete engine overhaul. Even with the gain in speed it still took the Ferengi ship the better part of a day to reach their destination. Once they had closed in on the Q'osk system Tierzak began to send encoded messages to the Klingon shipyard, but no response was received. The daimon's worries continued to increase until they finally arrived at their destination.  
"Put the planet on screen," Tierzak ordered.  
A few moments later an image of Q'osk V replaced the blackness on the view screen. At first neither of the two Ferengi commanders understood. There was no evidence of an attack, or even a base at all.  
"Could the Romulans have completely vaporized it?" the Ferengi first officer whispered to his commander.  
"I don't know Kreplar," was all he could say in response. Suddenly he sat up in his chair as something caught his eye. As they orbited the planet something came into view, followed by a thousand more somethings. "Magnify grid seventy-three." The small somethings became clearer as the viewscreen focused and enlarged them. All Tierzak could do was collapse in his chair at the realization of what they were.  
"Daimon, what is it? What was here?" asked the young officer manning helm.  
"Our chance at victory ensign," replied the daimon with a heavy hearted tone. "And now that chance has been taken away." 


	10. Round Comes the Gambit

_ Chapter 10: Round Comes the Gambit_  
  
Mission  
With the Narendra Conference quickly approaching many preparations are underway. Having had his associate Daimon Tierzak complete one part of their plan Gul Duren travels to a dead world to pick up his part of the plan to overthrow their Terran foe, Overseer Seven.  
Mission Date:  
107th day in the 2369th of Molar  
  
After taking another sip of his Kanar he finally set his glass down on a weathered table. For a moment he let his gaze drift to the lovely woman who shyly sat in the corner. Quickly though he took his attention off her so as not to upset his other guest, her father.  
The young woman's father took a long drink from his glass before speaking. "You make a good soldier Damar, and you have good taste in drinks as well."  
"Thank you Dukat," Damar replied with a slight smile at praise from such a person. "But who doesn't like a good glass of Kanar?" he quickly added, hoping to gain any composure he had just lost.  
"Very true Damar, very true indeed," Dukat said with a laugh.  
Damar noticed that at her father's laugh Ziyal gave a fleeting, but noticeable smile. Being happy was no doubt something they had both been devoid of these past few years. Ever since Ziyal's heritage had been revealed and Dukat's censure from the Detapa Council nearly three years previous they had been forced to go into hiding and live off the charity of others. It had been so bad for them that at one point they were forced to stay on Tesslak Prime, which was little more than an unsupervised prison planet. They probably would have been better off on Rura Penthe, were it not for the inhospitable cold.  
With a slight shake of his head he forced himself back into the present. A small time readout set alongside his glass showed him that it was almost time for Gul Duren's arrival. After Duren's Ferengi associate, a Daimon Tierzak if Damar recalled correctly, had given this pair to the gul then there had been a brief period of trying to figure out what to do with them until the time was right. They couldn't easily accommodate them aboard the Alvex. Besides the fact that they were too valuable to be left aboard a Galor class vessel during a time of war. And obviously there was no place for them back on Cardassia Prime. That was when they had devised of the perfect place for them.  
At that moment a young Cardassian officer ran into the room to inform them that the Alvex would be in orbit in less than an hour. Dukat thanked the officer before waving him off to perform some other duty. He then looked at Damar and raised his glass of Kanar. "The future is nearly here my friend."  
In response Damar lifted his glass next to Dukat's before downing the last liquid remnants. As he sat his now empty glass back down he looked at the Cardassian before him. He knew vaguely what Dukat and Duren were planning, and yet he didn't know enough to make him feel at ease about the situation. Part of him wanted, no needed, to know more of what was about to come. "I'm curious as to how exactly you are going to bring about this future."  
Once the question had been asked Dukat's mood changed as he thought for a moment. Then he looked across the room at Damar with a serious look. "Honestly Damar, I don't know. Most of the planning of this has been left to Gul Duren and his Ferengi lackey, and I'm not sure that they even know everything about it. What I do know is that something must be done to preserve our civilization and to make sure that these outsiders don't tarnish our glorious heritage. Don't you agree Damar?"  
"Of course I do Dukat," Damar said a bit taken back by the question. "I was just curious as to the how. As to the why, I fully understand and support."  
"That's good to hear Damar. It will not be easy to take what we deserve with so many allied enemies surrounding us."  
Leaning back a bit in his chair Damar went over Dukat's words in his mind. Valid as they were he wasn't sure if these were points to be mentioned aloud. While he too distasted their Klingon and Bajoran allies he was not about to forget their help in defeating the Terrans, nor would he forget all they had fought and died for against the Romulans. And yet to remain their ally would only bring about more deterioration of the Cardassian society. There had to be a way for him to have his Jibalian fudge cake and eat it too.  
The remaining time became an almost silence. Both soldiers knew that Duren was soon to arrive and there was little left to be spoken between them. While Damar was still thoroughly confused about the whole matter it had become apparent to him that Dukat knew little more of Duren's plans than him. It was simply something that had to wait until Duren himself arrived on the ruined rock of a world where they were waiting from.  
More Kanar was brought to them by a barely of age officer. Ziyal kindly refused but both Dukat and Damar gladly accepted it. Slowly they sipped the greenish liquid, enjoying it as though it was the greatest thing life had to offer. A funny thing that war did other then to kill and bring about destruction was to remind those who continued to fight, continued to survive, how each moment of life was not to be wasted. It heightened the senses in a way that in the pause between the death and destruction life became so precious that one felt shamed if they didn't enjoy it to the fullest.  
It wasn't much longer before the officer returned to inform them that the Alvex would soon be in orbit and that Duren would beam down shortly after. "About time." Dukat said with an impatient tone before smiling. "Don't think that I'm ungrateful for your company Damar but I would just like to get this whole thing sorted out and finished with."  
Damar returned the smile. "Of course Dukat. We all do." he said before taking the last sip of his drink.  
The young officer soon returned, this time with Gul Duren in tow. After giving a nod of respect to the three officers he quickly departed. Once he had left Duren took a step forward and was the first of them to speak.  
"Ah gentlemen, so good to see you again," he said with a creasing smile.  
"You to Duren," Damar replied with a nod.  
"I hope these accommodations weren't too horrible for you Dukat. They were, after all, the best place to hide you until the meeting."  
"Horrible?" The once honored gul looked at Duren, trying to figure out if the statement was meant as a joke or an insult. Seeing nothing but good intentions on the younger gul's face he decided to respond. "Good company, good drink, no not horrible at all Duren. After spending two years living on Tesslak Prime this place practically seems like the Terran world of Risa, before it was destroyed of course."  
"Of course Dukat. Well well Legate Damar, it looks like you can add host to your decorated resume. And with the approval of Dukat I'm sure you would be hired at any number of establishments back on Cardassia."  
"Just what I've always dreamed of Duren," Damar replied with a sarcastic grin. "But while the war continues I am a soldier, a fighter for the Cardassian people."  
"As you can see, Dukat, Damar is an excellent soldier and a shining example of what the Cardassian people once were, and should be again."  
"Yes, about that. We were hoping you could fill the both of us in on this grand scheme you cooked up with that Ferengi," the legate said leaning forward in his chair.  
"In good time Damar, in good time. First though if you would be so kind, my throat is a bit parched from the journey here. Might you still have some Kanar that I could drink?"  
"For you, always." Damar quickly tapped a comm panel on the table beside him and told one of the officers to bring them three glasses of Kanar. Seconds later one of the few officers stationed there rushed in with the three glasses and handed each of the men a glass before departing just as quickly as he had entered.  
Slowly Duren took a long sip of the liquid before letting out a satisfied exhale. Damar offered the gul a seat, which he gladly accepted. Once he had made himself comfortable Duren took one more sip of his drink before continuing. "Alright gentlemen, what part of the plan are you confused about?"  
"Just do both me and Dukat a favor and tell us the whole thing, in case we understood something else differently then what's to happen."  
"Okay, from the beginning then." Leaning back in his chair Duren paused for a moment as if he were lost in thought. Almost completely still, he stayed like that for quite a number of seconds before suddenly springing back to life. "Over the course of Cardassian history we have always been a proud and noble people. Virtually untainted until the day that our noble world ran low of resources, and we were forced into the stars in search of a solution to our problem. In our search for that solution we ran into other species, and so began our tumble from that high peak that we had enjoyed for so long..."  
At this point Damar felt as though he were sitting through a history lecture at his old academy. When he had asked Duren to fill them in on the situation he didn't expect such a long-winded response. He only hoped that the gul would soon reach the point and tell them what they actually wanted to know.  
"Our conflicts with some of these races became nothing more then a drain. After fighting countless battles our resources were lower then before and our troop morale even lower. Then came the war with the Terrans, a war that changed us irrevocably. That enemy, that war, forced us to look at our military objectively and to ultimately seek an alliance with the Terran Empire's greatest foe, the Klingons. It is my belief that the alliance with the Klingons was perhaps the greatest mistake we made since launching ourselves into space. Ever since that day our people have been tarnished and ultimately set aside by our ally to make room for none other then that enemy which we fought so hard to wipe out."  
"I assume you speak of the Overseer," Damar said, hoping that the gul had finally reached what he had wanted to know.  
"Yes, the Overseer. The traitorous Terran that was placed in such a high power that she be second only to the Regent himself." As he spoke Duren gritted his teeth just enough to be noticeable.  
"Traitorous Terran? Do you have a personal vendetta against her, Duren? Because if that is the cause of this whole charade then I for one am ashamed to have taken part in it."  
"What a bold statement Damar." Quickly Duren's demeanor changed and his features smoothened back to their original form. "Have no fear my loyal comrade. I am simply looking out for the best interests of the Cardassian people. And how could getting rid of Seven not be beneficial?"  
Easing back into his chair Damar took a sip of his drink. "Depends on if you get caught," he mumbled.  
"Caught?" A grin made it's way across the gul's face and for a moment Damar thought he might break out into laughter. "You're assuming that what we are doing here is illegal."  
"You mean it's not?" Damar responded in a shocked, yet slightly sarcastic tone.  
"Of course not my dear Damar. It's not like we are planning a coupe against one of OUR leaders." He made a quick gesture with his hands making it apparent that he meant Cardassian leaders. "No, I'm simply going to bring light to the questionable actions that our dear Overseer has committed over the years."  
"Actions? Such as?" the legate asked, his curiosity suddenly peaked.  
"For that we have our dear friend Dukat, and of course his daughter Ziyal."  
At the mentioning of the young woman's name Damar turned in his chair to look at her. Since they had awoken that morning Ziyal had quietly sat in the corner tending to things only known by her. As he gazed at the frail, statuesque figure Damar could only wonder what part in this she would soon play.  
"You see Damar," Duren suddenly spoke again, breaking the legate's thoughts, "Ziyal there was present the day that the Bajoran Kai Winn was assassinated."  
Damar swiveled back around in his chair; feeling as though all hope in Duren's plan was about to be lost. "Of course she was Duren, she was Winn's most trusted assistant. That is common knowledge."  
"Yes but what is not common knowledge is that it is was Seven, not our dear Ziyal here that was the Bajoran leader's killer."  
Complete shock hit Damar as he let the words just dealt him soak in. A smirk suddenly made it's way across his face as he came to realize how impossible Duren's words were. To Damar they at that moment became nothing more then an elaborate fiction created in order to get rid of the Terran Overseer. "Nice try Duren," Damar said back to the gul. "You almost had me there for a moment."  
"Ah my dear Damar, believe what you wish. The story is true, and my associate Tierzak got proof of it only days ago."  
Remaining silent throughout the conversation Dukat finally chose a moment to speak. "You mean you found a way to prove to others that my daughter isn't a traitor?"  
Gul Duren polished off his glass of Kanar before displaying his biggest smile yet. "Of course I did Dukat. I told you to have faith in me."  
"How?" was all that Damar could say.  
"Well let's just say that Tierzak has found a witness to the murder. The security tapes from Kai Winn's office to be precisely."  
With that a sudden noise startled the three Cardassian soldiers and Ziyal finally made her presence known. She made her way across the room to where they were sitting and stood next to Dukat, but kept her sight on Duren. "How is that possible?" she asked in a soft voice. "All of those tapes were reviewed by Bajoran security before being destroyed because of religious customs. From what I gathered from the media on Bajor those tapes revealed nothing."  
"Apparently someone off planet had tapped into the security feed for the kai's office. Some way or another a copy from that feed made it's way into the hands of a Yridian trader, who Tierzak was supposed to meet with three days ago."  
"And the proof that Seven is Winn's killer is on those tapes?"  
"Unfortunately Dukat I haven't been able to get in touch with Tierzak since before his meeting with the Yridian. So I can't tell you what's on those tapes for definite, but I'm confident that they contain exactly what we need to expose Seven as a traitor to the Alliance."  
"Oh well if you're confident then we have nothing to worry about," Damar said sarcastically. "Besides, even if she did, and we can prove it, then how is that going to help us? Kai Winn has been dead for three years. Do you really think that the Regent or any of the Intendants will care?"  
"Perhaps and perhaps not. But it will bring question to her loyalty, and be cause to open an investigation."  
"An investigation?" Damar scoffed. "Who would order such an investigation on such a high player over a three year old murder of a low religious leader."  
Duren took a sip from his recently refilled glass of Kanar before simply and matter-of-factly stating, "The Bajoran Intendant."  
This caught the attention of both Dukat and Damar. Neither of them could hardly believe what Duren had just suggested to them. Having the same question they both looked at each other before Dukat finally took the initiative and spoke.  
"Why would she of all people want to investigate this matter? Kai Winn was her biggest political rival. Not to mention the fact that it was Seven who was Kira's assistant while she held the office of Overseer."  
"And she was also the one who nominated Seven to succeed her after she stepped down." Damar quickly added.  
"All of this I know full and well gentlemen. I have been assured though by Kira's closest aides that she will support any move we make against Seven."  
"You spoke to her aides?" With this little touch of information Damar could hide his disgust no further. "Duren, I am surprised you are so confident. You come here, days before our plan is to be put into action, with only promises and half worked ideas. How in the world do you expect to pull this off with what little you've got?"  
For a moment Duren looked as though the legate had just personally attacked him, offended far beyond his tasting. Then he softened himself though and appeared as calm as one could be during a war. "My dear Damar, you just don't get it do you? While not all of my ideas are worked out to your liking they are in fact worked out enough for the council's liking. We need only to present enough evidence, no matter how strong that evidence is, before all the Alliance leaders to make them suspicious of our dear Terran Overseer. Once we do that then we will be able to remove her from power with little opposition."  
Unconvinced, Damar got up from his seat and walked to the other side of the room in thought. Dukat looked over both of them, not really knowing whose point was more valid. If Kai Winn's murder took place as suggested then he wanted nothing more then to see Seven put before a firing squad. But it would not be easy to convince so many with so little evidence.  
"Were you able to find Leeta?" Ziyal spoke so suddenly that she almost made Duren jump in his seat. "She would be a great help to us if you did Gul Duren."  
"Unfortunately I did not, my dear. I checked every source I could think of and used every favor I had standing. All I was able to get though is that she was reported missing by her girlfriend not long after you disappeared from Bajor."  
The young woman sank back into her corner chair, looking almost as if she had just lost. Duren looked at her, almost pitying her. The life she had lived, being half Bajoran and half Cardassian, must had been a struggle. To make it worse this whole elaborate plot involving Seven and the Bajoran Intendant, to which she had undoubtedly gotten the short end of. He imagined it had been quite rough indeed, but she had remained strong throughout it all and that was a trait Duren respected and admired. For her and the others like her on Cardassia Duren had to make this plan work. Nothing would stand in his way, he was certain of it.  
With a pause in the conversation Duren took a look around the ruined room where they currently were. The area was little more then a pile of rock and twisted metal. In fact, the whole planet had become that. Ever since that day when its destruction was ordered by the Regent those years ago. That day, so many died for the mistakes of a few of their kind. A fate that Duren hoped the Cardassian people would not one day share.  
It had made the perfect place to hide his small soldier contingent during this operation. A ruined world deep into Alliance territory, right under his opponent's noses. Clearly away from any threat the small group of soldiers left here had been relatively safe, if not comfortable. And who in the Alliance would think to look here for anything, let alone anyone who might be trying to remove someone from power? Yes this world had been perfect in Duren's plan, this ruined world of a once ally. Andor was what it had been called, but since the Great Andorian Massacre none had been allowed to speak its name.  
Sitting back down Damar looked across the room at Duren. He was still unconvinced that Duren's plan had any merit, but it was all they had to go on. After all the conference was scheduled to take place in almost a week. And the trip to Narendra III would take up most of that time alone, not to mention the sure to ensue chaos once they had arrived. Frankly, they were out of time. And if they wanted to remove Seven from her seat of power then they had no better chance to. Damar had no choice but to simply accept the gul's plan. "Very well Gul Duren, we'll go ahead as you suggested. We don't have much of a choice to do otherwise do we?"  
Duren could tell by the look on the young legate's face that he wasn't happy to concede on this point. He reveled in Damar's reluctant, yet still complete acceptance. Whether or not he enjoyed the situation Duren could simply not let it show. After all Damar was a trusted ally, not a despised foe. This was not a time to pick apart loyalties, but to hold them tightly. His loyalty, his wonderful sense of duty and loyalty to the Cardassian people were the reasons that Damar had been let in on this little plot. While still a young officer he had gained the respect of many of the higher-ups. Not only that but besides for Dukat there was no other Cardassian that Duren liked or trusted more than Damar.  
"Do not sound as though we have lost Damar," Dukat said, placing a hand on the legate's shoulder. "While the plan may not be without faults, it is still a good plan to go on. Besides, how many of those Intendants do you think won't jump at the chance to remove a Terran from such a high seat of power? We aren't the only ones that she has become a nuisance to."  
"Of course you are right Dukat, I just don't want to face the consequences if we fail."  
"We are all very aware of the consequences Damar," spoke Duren with a serious, but still friendly tone. "Do not worry though. Even if we fail to prove Seven's loyalties before the council little of the backlash will fall on us. My supporters in the Detapa Council will make sure of it."  
"Very well then Duren, you have my full support." Damar then gave an almost reluctant sigh as he sank back into his chair. "When exactly are you departing?" he asked, knowing that their time was very limited.  
Putting down an empty glass for the last time the gul looked at a time readout, which had been loosely hung on the far wall. "We should depart real soon. Are you ready to go?" he asked as his glance rested on the former gul and his daughter.  
"Almost," Dukat responded as he laid a hand on Ziyal's shoulder. "We just need to go get a few things."  
"Alright. Go and get them, then we'll beam off of this dead hunk of rock." Almost immediately they headed out of the room, leaving the gul alone with Damar.  
For a while the two officers just sat there and looked at each other across the room. It was one of those odd instances of waiting where the ones left standing there had little to say. While there had not been a set plan for Damar and the rest of the small soldier contingent to do once their two guests had left for the conference they were planning on finding passage to it. There wasn't much extra space onboard the Alvex, or otherwise they would have just left with Dukat and his daughter. Damar though was confident that they could arrange some sort of transport aboard another cruiser, or possibly smaller vessel, en route to the Narendra Conference.  
Finally the two passengers returned, each with a large metal travel case slung by strap over their arm. Duren looked at each of them as a silent confirmation that they were ready before sending a message to their waiting transport. "Gul Duren to Alvex, we are ready to be beamed up."  
"Yes sir. Prepare for immediate..." Suddenly the transmission cutoff in mid-sentence and turned to static.  
The four Cardassians looked at each other confused and slightly worried. "Duren to Alvex, what's you status?" the gul asked hoping to clear up the haze of confusion.  
There was an almost panic filled moment as nothing but static continued to come through the communicator. Luckily though that moment didn't stretch out too long or otherwise real panic might have gripped the small group. "This is the Alvex reporting, sir. We temporarily lost communications."  
"Cause?" Duren crisply asked.  
"We came under fire from a Romulan vessel."  
"Romulan? This deep in Alliance territory? Was it a warbird?" Each question had been asked so quickly asked that it had left little time for the officer on the other end of the communicator to respond.  
"No sir. It was merely a scoutship," the officer responded a bit flustered.  
"A scoutship?" Quickly Duren ran through all the possible explanations in his mind. One thing did stick out in his mind though, one possible explanation that he hoped would not become a reality. Both Damar and Dukat must have thought of the same thing because a look of worry soon graced their faces as well.  
"Tell them to assume orbit over the planet's northern pole." Dukat quickly suggested. "The magnetic disturbance should hide them from Romulan sensors. Do it quickly though, just in case more ships aren't far behind that scout."  
Duren relayed the order directly to the Alvex's bridge and it was executed without any hesitation. Once that had been achieved Damar rushed off to gather the few troops stationed there, in case they had to leave in a hurry. When he came back only two soldiers out of the stationed ten were with him.  
"The rest are dismantling our equipment, in case ground forces show up." he quickly explained.  
The small group could do nothing but sit there and nervously wait until the Alvex's next report. It took nearly twenty minutes before that moment came. "Alvex to Gul Duren, please respond," an officer said. Although the officer's voice sounded calm the experienced officers on the surface could tell that the trained coolness covered up a rising sense of tension.  
"Gul Duren here. What's going on up there?"  
"Sir, we've detected five D'Deridex class Romulan warbirds decloaking at our previous location. What are our orders?"  
Thinking for but a moment Duren quickly responded only with the word 'standby'. Looking at the faces of those around them he was hoping one of them could provide him with a suggestion on what to do next. A heartbeat later the building they were in shook with a terrible force.  
"They wouldn't come all this way just to flatten a few ruins would they?" Damar asked.  
"Who knows what possesses the mind of a Romulan?" replied Dukat. "But it is odd that they would send five warships so deep in our territory to attack a ruined and abandoned world."  
Unless they had a reason to. Whether or not they had a reason didn't matter to Duren at the moment though. All that mattered was their safety from the death raining down on them from orbit.  
"Shouldn't we leave now?" a terrified Ziyal asked as the building continued to shake around them.  
"Yes of course. Alvex, six to beam up."  
"Duren, what about the rest of my men?" asked a panicked and concerned Damar.  
"We don't have time for them. The survival of Dukat and Ziyal are paramount if we are to succeed Damar. No other life is worth more than theirs at the moment."  
For a moment the legate hesitated. Finally though he conceded his position and nodded to Duren to give the beam up order.  
A few moments later they were safely aboard the Alvex, which had thus far eluded being detected by the Romulan threat. Dukat had a comforting arm around his daughter, and Damar was visibly upset about just losing seven officers all for basically nothing. Aside from this though the small group was fine.  
"Set course for Narendra III, maximum warp. Let me know if you detect any more Romulan ships." With the orders sent they could now get underway and finally get to the most vital part of this long planned mission. As the small group left the transporter room Duren paused for a moment to wonder just why exactly the Romulans had attacked the lifeless planet of Andor. Their reasons still bore no importance on him however. The only thing that was important to him was the task he would soon have to accomplish. 


	11. A Regent's Recourse

_ Chapter Eleven: A Regent's Recourse_  
  
Mission  
With only a few days left before the important Narendra Conference two of the most important attendees, Regent Worf and Intendant B'elanna, are enjoying a moment's break from the war. On board the Alliance flagship bad news comes in as the Romulans continue to step up their attacks. That bad news may be unsettling for the Klingon pair but what lurks around the corner may be even worse.  
Mission Date:  
111th day in the 2369th of Molar  
  
Slowly she poured the bloodwine into the two separate glasses. Not wanting to spill any she made sure not to overfill them, yet she couldn't help but fill them as much as could be without danger. Satisfied with her effort she carefully picked up both glasses and walked back into the main room of the quarters. Making her way across the room she effortlessly weaved around the furniture that was almost chaotically placed around the room. "Here is your bloodwine Worf," she said with a smile.  
Placing both hands on the glass he took an eager sip. "Ah, now this is what us true warriors are in dire need of. What year is this? '42?"  
"'39 actually."  
"You have a bottle of '39? How fortunate you are to have wine from such a fine vintage." The Regent took another long sip, letting the sweet liquid wash over every part of his mouth. "Replicators never do this justice. It really was a good thing that you were able to bring some aboard. I've had about enough of that synthetic swill as one could take in a lifetime."  
"Of course it was my pleasure Worf. I mean how often am I the guest of the most powerful Klingon in the entire Alliance?"  
Both of them gave a laugh, with Worf's so deep it almost shook the whole room. "Quite often my dear B'elanna, though I suppose not nearly enough."  
"So true my friend," she said before taking a sip. "The duties of war keep us busy, far too busy indeed."  
At the mention of war Worf's expression turned solemn. War had taken so much time, as well as other things, away from him that even he had grown weary of it. Romulans of course had not been his entire problem throughout this lengthy campaign. Threat came from nearly every corner and the politics of trying to maintain the Alliance together had made Worf long for the days when he was nothing more then a gallant captain, headstrong and battle hungry. Those were days made only for longing later on, and long is what he did. He was the most powerful Klingon in the empire, and yet that power seemed meaningless.  
Worf's sudden mood change made B'elanna scramble for a new topic of discussion. Sadly though she could think of none. For two who held such important roles during a time of war what more was there for them to talk about? There had to be something, she just knew it. Alas though nothing could come to her weary mind's surface. Without a relevant thing to talk between themselves the pair simply sat there sipping their wine as they became deep in thought.  
Growing tired of the silence Worf fixed his gaze on a bat'leth that had recently been hung in his quarters. "So B'elanna, have you kept up with you bat'leth training?" he asked, hoping this was enough to drum up a new topic in their conversation.  
"Of course I have. Though it has been quite difficult to find a worthy opponent amidst those tor'zahs I'm forced to put up with on Sol. Why? You aren't asking for a rematch of our last bout are you?" she asked with a grin.  
"If you remember I claimed victory in our last bout. In fact I have defeated you nearly every time." Worf replied in a friendly yet nearly smug tone.  
"I can understand if you're too much of a coward to face me again Worf. After all I did fracture a number of your ribs last time didn't I?"  
"Did you just call me, the Regent and leader of the entire Alliance, a coward?" Worf asked, mockingly offended. "You are quite a brave warrior indeed. A fine tribute to Klingonhood!" Raising their glasses in the air the pair toasted the noble heritage of the Klingon people, of their people.  
Sitting there drinking and recounting glorious tales the two remained for quite a while. After some time passed a young Klingon officer came into the room clutching a status report. Apologizing for interrupting their visit the officer handed the report over to Worf before scurrying out of the room.  
As she watched him read over the report B'elanna knew that very little good news was contained in it. Good news was hard for them to come by these days. This fact not only did B'elanna know but so did every other soldier in the Alliance. Her suspicion was further justified after Worf angrily threw the P.A.D.D. onto the ground. "What's wrong?" she asked trying to relieve some of his tension.  
"The latest status report. Nothing but more bad news. It seems as though the Romulans saw fit to destroy our forces in the Setlik system." A sigh came from Worf before he polished off his bloodwine. Noticing that his glass was now empty he got up from his comfortable chair and went to get another.  
Sitting alone, B'elanna thought about all that had been lost as of late as the news of the Setlik loss washed over her like a terrifyingly painful wave. In the past two weeks loss had become commonplace for the Alliance, and none had been immune to the Romulan's sudden wrath. Over the brief stretch of time the devastating losses had come to include the Breen's Galgathon Shipyards, the Cardassian station of Kelnok Nor, as well as several Ferengi trade convoys; making supplies harder and harder to come by. The biggest loss though was by far the Klingon's secret shipyard at Q'osk V. There, was being developed the greatest weapon ever known; and hopefully the end of this horrid war. Somehow though the Romulans had caught wind of its existence and had quickly destroyed the Alliance's best hope for success. With so many important forces destroyed in such a brief amount of time B'elanna felt that something was amiss. Some way or another the Romulans had to have found some new source of information. This was all speculation though, and not worthy to be spoken of quite yet.  
As Worf returned he held a full glass in each hand. He offered one to B'elanna, which she graciously accepted, before returning to his chair. A long sip was taken before Worf laid his eyes back on his companion. Ever since the death of the Betazoid Intendant Deanna Troi, his imzadi, B'elanna had been his closest and most trusted friend. In her he had found a true warrior's spirit entwined with an intelligence that was rare to come by in days of war. Where most of the soldiers he had met were either too obedient or not enough she had a strength and a will all her own. For this he had put her in charge of the Sol system, and the invaluable forces located there. Also this had let her become his most trusted advisor and ally. No matter what officially stood Worf considered B'elanna to be his second in command.  
"The tide of war has not favored us lately Worf," B'elanna said over her drink.  
"No, it has not," was all that Worf chose to mutter.  
Time ticked away as the two did nothing but sit there and down their drinks. Neither soul was quite sure what to say next, fearful of upsetting the other. B'elanna looked down at the shattered remains of the P.A.D.D. and knew that something had to be said. Some comment about the situation had to be made, but what? Finally she spoke what was so heavy on her mind. "What do you think about this war old friend?"  
"What do I think?" Leaning back in his chair Worf took another sip of his bloodwine before giving his beard a thoughtful stroke. "I think it's obvious what I think B'elanna. My thoughts are the same as everyone else's. Those thoughts are tired of war, tired of death and destruction. Things I once reveled in and thirsted for have become my worst foes."  
"I understand what you mean Worf. Being a Klingon, being a warrior, I too once lived for times like this. War can be a funny thing though for us soldiers. Put us through a few hopeless years of it and suddenly we aren't so eager for it anymore. I swear this war has nearly destroyed that which I hold so dear within me."  
"Yes. Perhaps through this struggle we have been able to hold onto what is dear to us within, but those precious things that are not born of us we have horribly lost." he said before slipping back into silence.  
B'elanna of course knew of what he meant; or more importantly who. Ever since Deanna's death Worf had not been the same. He still fought and bled like all the rest of them, but he did so with an incomplete being. It was as if his heart no longer was in this war, as if it had been stolen and taken somewhere far away. She believed that even the mighty Regent was ready to end this war by whatever means were necessary. Unfortunately with the loss of their Jach'eng prototype and a significant increase in Romulan attacks it looked like this war would continue for quite awhile; lest the Alliance lay down their lives in surrender.  
Noticing how uncomfortable his companion looked, and knowing how uncomfortable he now felt, Worf decided to change the topic. These war matters, while no doubt relevant, had become a nuisance to him. The abrupt report had distracted B'elanna and him from what really needed to be discussed, the Narendra Conference.  
As she finished her bloodwine B'elanna could tell that her friend had something else, something more urgent, on his mind. "What is it Worf?" she asked hoping to get an answer without upsetting him too much.  
"It is nothing," he said with a stern look. For several moments B'elanna disbelievingly looked at him until he spoke once more. "It's just the soon to come conference," he finally conceded.  
"What of it? Do you expect something major to happen there?"  
"One never expects a surprise. That is why a surprise is so successful."  
Confused, B'elanna leaned in closer, hoping for an explanation to Worf's cryptic statement.  
"I don't know B'elanna. While I can't be sure that something will come about I do have a gut feeling that something will, and something big at that."  
"Well ok. Do you have a list or something that has what topics will be discussed at the conference?"  
"Yes, but why?"  
"If we had a list to look at then maybe we could gain some insight as to when this incident will take place."  
Worf nodded his head slowly before walking over to a comms panel on the wall. "Regent Worf to the bridge."  
"Yes, sir?" a young and slightly shaky voice responded.  
"Do you have an available list as to the topics of discussion at the Narendra Conference?"  
"Yes, of course we do sir."  
"Send a copy of that list on the double!" Worf snapped.  
"Right away sir!" Again the voiced stumbled a bit before the communication channel was closed.   
As Worf walked away from the wall mounted comms panel a small but noticeable grin flashed for a moment across his face. Even though he hated all the politics of the position, being Regent did have a few perks. One such perk was having an entire race basically underneath his thumb. While he would have been content with them merely respecting him and his prowess having a number of them fear Worf was actually even more intoxicating. In hardly any time at all a bridge officer came in and handed Worf a P.A.D.D. with the requested information, before quickly leaving so as to return to his post.  
Gazing over the P.A.D.D. Worf quickly took in the entire schedule of planned events before handing over the small device to B'elanna. In the same fashion as her friend B'elanna looked at the list before gently placing it aside. The pair leaned back for a moment in thought before B'elanna took the initiative to continue.  
"Looks like your standard, dull drum conference topics. Resource management, war status reports, trade negotiations, nothing that exciting really. Nothing surprising at all."  
All Worf would do in response was rub his beard and give a low grumble. He went to take a sip from his glass, and threw it shattering to the floor once he realized the glass was empty. As the glass remnants settled into the short, gray carpet Worf rose up from his chair and headed over to gaze out of the room's porthole. Silently he stood there for several moments before B'elanna decided to join him.  
Quietly she made her way to stand next to Worf. Not wanting to disturb any moment that he might currently be engaged in she stood still next to him. Something in her though needed talk, needed to know exactly what it was that was going through his mind at the moment. Still unwilling to talk and take the chance at disturbing him B'elanna simply put her hand on his shoulder, hoping to subconsciously coax him into talking.  
Somehow that simple little gesture did the trick. "I don't know B'elanna. The schedule seems like a routine one, this fact I fully understand. Yet I still can't shake off this unnerving feeling that some monumental surprise awaits us on Narendra III."  
She turned to look at him, to look at the strong face he wore. The face though that also had a hidden layer just beneath the surface. That layer was of course made from the pain and regret this war had thrust upon him. A layer that had become a common fashion among all Alliance soldiers. B'elanna hoped though that the fashion was soon to run out of style. "I'm sure it's nothing," she softly replied.  
Turning away from the black velvet sky Worf gazed into B'elanna's concerned, yet friendly eyes. A smile once again made it's way onto his hardened face. The kind that made each feature give way to it as to let its presence be known. "Of course you are right my dear friend," Worf said as he placed a hand on B'elanna's shoulder. "This war has made me edgy B'elanna and I apologize for it."  
"Don't apologize," she said, returning his smile. "That edge has become a part of me as well, a part of all soldiers in fact. It helps to keep us on our toes, ready for whatever may come our way."  
"Yes, of course." Worf paused for a moment, doing nothing but simply being washed in B'elanna's presence. "What would I do without you B'elanna?" he asked with a grin barely shown.  
"Probably find a new bat'leth partner, that's what." The pair exchanged laughs for a moment before they decided to once more take residence in the room's plush seats. Looking across the room at Worf B'elanna was glad to have been able to ease her friend's tension, glad to have been able to provide a greater and more personal use to Worf than what her normal duties allowed.  
"Suspicions aside though there are still a few matters to be discussed concerning the conference." Glancing over the P.A.D.D. of information Worf searched for what exactly he felt needed such discussion. B'elanna had been right about one thing, the schedule was pretty routine. As such it made it difficult to find something of interest to bring to the pair's conversation.  
Suddenly feeling useless B'elanna shifted uneasily in her chair. As Worf read over the P.A.D.D. B'elanna searched for something to do. Noticing the glass shards spread over the carpet she suddenly stood up, intent on bringing both of them a new drink. "More bloodwine?" she asked of her companion.  
"No thanks," he said, not looking up from his reading. A 'no' in response to an offer of bloodwine was quite a shock to B'elanna, and she was unsure of how to react. "Too much of such a thing would ruin its excellence," Worf explained. B'elanna began to ease back into her chair when suddenly Worf chose to spoke again. "A Raktajino would be nice though."  
With something now to do B'elanna made her way to the replicator in the other room and ordered two Raktajinos. The machine made a slight whirring noise as the drinks formed from nothingness. Grabbing a glass in each hand B'elanna made her way back to the main area and handed Worf a drink, who still did not tear his gaze from the P.A.D.D., before easing back into her chair.  
Taking a sip of his new drink Worf glanced over the P.A.D.D. at B'elanna. Slowly he drank down the new liquid, letting the powerful new flavor wash over the old taste left by the bloodwine. Raktajino was truly a drink among drinks. It had mixed in it the right amount of spices to make it the most potent of energy drinks. One could drink a pot of it and have the energy to battle for several days later without rest. This had been the cause for the Raktajino's initial creation, and it was as effective today as it ever had been.  
Noticing the glance B'elanna shifted and sat up a little in her chair. The relationship she and Worf shared had always been a fragile one, especially since Deanna's death. Throughout their long association though they had always remained faithful friends, and had been practically since they first met. Still though there was an underlying closeness there that would be hard for anyone to describe. They were closer than friends, closer than family, close enough to be on some labeless level that few can reach in their lifetime. It was something that neither of them would have any other way.  
Finally seeing something noteworthy on the small monotonous list Worf handed the P.A.D.D. over to B'elanna. "Check out item number forty-two," he said after giving her a moment to glance at the list.  
"Resource allocation," she stated a moment later. "Of what interest could that concern either of us?"  
"Take a look at which star systems are to be discussed," Worf said before taking another long sip.  
B'elanna tapped a button on the P.A.D.D. and a further description of item forty-two appeared. Skimming through the short summary of the topic she looked for any mention of the star systems which were concerned. Several unimportant systems went by her eyes including the Cardassian system Lakara and a former Terran one named Seti Alpha. The last one on the list though caught B'elanna's attention and she almost dropped the P.A.D.D. in shock. That last system was Sol, the one she was in charge of.  
Seeing the sudden change in B'elanna's emotion Worf leaned forward but chose not to speak. Really he couldn't think of anything to say to her at that moment and chose instead to sit there and listen and to help his friend if he could.  
"Why is Sol on here, and more importantly why wasn't I informed? If there is a problem about how I am running it..." she began hurriedly saying before being cut off by Worf.  
"Do not worry B'elanna, no one is questioning your skills on how you are running the Sol system. This is more a formality," he said in a reassuring voice. "Whether or not everyone wants to admit it but Sol is probably our most valuable asset in the war against the Romulans. The shipyards of Utopia Planitia are enough to give it a note of worthy coupled that with the research being done on Jupiter Station and the mining being done in the system's asteroid belt and you have probably the most vital Alliance system under your charge."  
B'elanna began to open her mouth in rejection, but decided against it. Worf was right though, it was a busy and useful system. One which they had taken from the Terran Empire after the fall, yet important nonetheless.  
"The reason Sol is on that list is....well the reason is obvious," Worf said somewhat matter of factly. Confusion touched B'elanna's facing making it apparent that to her the reason wasn't obvious. "It concerns the recent strategy of the Romulans," Worf continued. "Over the past couple weeks they have made several brash attacks. Even our most secret and most deep bases have come under fire; and all of the latest engagements we've lost. This resource allocation is just to make sure that Sol doesn't end up on that list as well."  
That explanation helped to ease B'elanna's confusion, but only a little bit. "But what of the numerous defense platforms scattered throughout the system? Or of the constant traffic of vessels in and out of Utopia Planitia?"  
"B'elanna, most of those defense platforms are so out of shape I doubt that they would do much good. And true, there are a number of vessels at Utopia Planitia, but for the most part they are there for repairs or refits. How much good would a fleet of battered and bruised vessels be against a pristine fleet of Romulan warbirds?"  
Sitting forward in her chair B'elanna went over all the information in her head. It made sense, in a way. Even with all that B'elanna still wasn't satisfied with the reasons. "Are you sure it's necesary Worf?" she asked a touch reluctantly.  
"Honestly I don't know if it's necessary or not, but I will not let the Romulans surprise us if they choose to attack Sol. The system is just too vital to the Alliance to take a risk like that."  
"All right," she finally conceded, "what exactly would this 'allocation' entail?"  
"For the most part just newer and better models of what you already have. A fresh supply of defense platforms will be brought in from the Chin'toka system and more vessels from the shipyards at Dotalar III will be brought in to help defend the system's borders."  
Something in that response hit B'elanna instantly and harshly. "You want to put Cardassian defense platforms in the Sol system?" she pointedly asked.  
"Those defense platforms have proven quite useful in the past and I'm not about to let them go unused just because I don't personally like Cardassians. Besides B'elanna, they are our ally against the Romulans."  
She couldn't help but to wonder at what would happen once the Romulans no longer posed a threat. What would the Cardassians do then if they didn't need the Klingon Empire for their survival? That however was a bridge far off, and as such would be ignored until a later time. Besides, first they had to get rid of the Romulans, which was proving to be quite a troublesome task.  
The two sat there silently for a short while before B'elanna decided that she needed to add one last thing. "Your right Worf, Sol is a very important system and it could use any help in defense that you can provide. I'm sorry for reacting the way I did."  
Worf displayed a friendly smile as he placed his hand on B'elanna's leg. "You were only voicing your concern about what you thought was right for your troops and what they occupy. It's a mark of a good leader B'elanna and you shouldn't feel any regret for displaying it. It's also one of the reasons why I chose you to govern Sol. Believe me when I say this B'elanna, but I think there is no one I trust more than you to control the most precious of Alliance assets."  
As Worf's words hit B'elanna she felt a sudden surge of joy fill her. True she had always known how Worf felt about her, but that knowledge did nothing to lessen his words impact. Sometimes knowing how someone felt just didn't effect someone as much as hearing the words come from their lips. At that moment B'elanna couldn't help but to return Worf's smile with one of her own.  
The two sat there doing nothing but taking pleasure in each others company for awhile. Concern for the upcoming conference still loomed thick in the air and yet not a trace of that concern showed up on either of their faces. Any negative thoughts or feelings they might have had at the conversations start had suddenly dissappeared and been replaced by an understanding that nothing could bring them down so long as their friendship stayed true. For them it had become a silent, perfect moment. One in which they would have liked to stay in forever.  
Forever did not last though, as no thing truly ever does. Just as the pair had once more begun to relax in their respective chairs a force shook the ship from underneath them. The lax expressions on their faces jolted to confusion, then a touch of panic made itself present as a second force rippled its way through the ship. Glancing at each other one thought came to both their minds yet neither of them were willing to say it for fear that their words would give truth to what was going on. But as a third forceful wave made its way through the ship they realized they could no longer ignore the attacking threat. "Romulans!" they said in unison before scrambling from their chairs and out of the room.  
The following moments were filled with equal tension coming from both Worf and B'elanna. As they made their way towards the Negh'Var's bridge only the slight humming of the turbolift was present in the near silent air. B'elanna began to pace, as much as one could pace in the cramped turbolift carriage, all the while Worf did nothing but stare at her. True Worf felt just as nervous as B'elanna about the situation, but he wasn't known to outwardly show any such feelings. Being the leader of the entire Alliance left him no leeway to show them either. No matter his thoughts, no matter his feelings, Worf knew that a leader must always have an air of calm and defiance for his subordinates to follow or else there was no real reason at all for them to put their faith in his hands.  
The turbolift crept its way towards command. Or at least it felt like it was creeping to B'elanna. They never seemed to go the speed you wanted them to, even if that speed was constant. What the turbolift lacked her mind made up for as it raced through the present situation. More and more waves rippled through the ship during their trip which translated into more and more weapons impacting along the Negh'Var's hull. A Romulan attack on an Alliance vessel surely was nothing out of the ordinary during the war, but a surprise attack on the Regent's flagship? Neither the Romulans nor the Terrans had ever made such a bold move, which forced B'elanna to ask why they would now. Questions were short-lived though as the turbolift finally slowed and opened upon arrival of their important destination.  
"Status report!" Worf shouted as the two made their way off of the turbolift.  
"Sir," a young lieutenant said as he snapped in attention. Worf gave a low grumble to show how displeased he was that so much attention was given to him just for arriving when he was needed. Picking up on the Regent's dissatisfaction the lieutenant jumped back to his original presence and proceeded to read off the damage. "Shields are down to thirty-two percent sir. Minor damage reported to navigation and ablative armor."  
With a slight nod Worf showed his approval at the way his mighty vessel had held up thus far. The Negh'Var certainly was built for battle. It was unfortunate that it saw combat so rarely because of its status in the fleet. "How are our escorts faring?" he asked suddenly reminded of the four K'Vort class cruisers that were escorting the Negh'Var to Narendra III.  
"The Tu'Kreh has been destroyed sir. I'm also getting a report from the Gre'lk that they have taken heavy damage to engines and shields. Our other two escorts, the Jourq and the Orin'Ma appear to have only minor damage."  
Worf rubbed his beard as he sat down in the captain's chair. What he needed now was options. While confidence flecked its way across his face doubt rested itself deep in his mind. True he was sitting in the Negh'var, only the toughest ship ever to be built by the Klingon empire, yet it would still be hard for them along with three battered K'Vort class cruisers to fight back this threat. Placing his gaze on a small armside status screen he took a silent breath as four separate Romulan signatures moved around the Klingon fleet. Four against four made them even in numbers, though the small bird-of-prey vessels remained largely outclassed by the Romulan titans, tipping the balance in favor of the their green blooded foe. Somehow though a victory was in need of being achieved. After all if the flagship of the entire Alliance was to lose a conflict then what hope was there for any other Alliance vessel?  
B'elanna finally made her presence known as she stood beside Worf. "Do you have a plan of attack Worf?" she asked, walking a thin line between shameful insubordination and desperate concern.  
A near silent grumble from Worf told B'elanna that he wasn't sure yet and pressing the issue wouldn't help matters. In his mind he feverishly worked out a winning strategy that could be accomplished both with what he had and what he was up against. Another weapons impact on the Negh'Var signaled that the Romulans would not wait out for a response. Finally he decided on a course of action. "Tell the three bird-of-preys to follow our lead and lock phasers on the nearest Romulan vessel." Worf ordered pointedly.  
"Aye sir," was the tactical officer's only response.  
Thankful for being able to retaliate the Negh'Var fired blast after blast of phaser fire on the lead attacker. The shots appeared to be almost blindly fired as they impacted all over the warbird. In a near mocking fashion the warbird's shields shimmered their translucent defiance. Just as the warbird was about to fire once more at the Negh'Var the trio of K'Vort cruisers made their presence known, soaring out from behind their flagship and opening fire on the vessel of their foe.  
The view screen filled up with the image of the warbird come under fire and Worf watched on with his usual stoic looking face. All four Klingon vessels pounded on their sole target for several minutes before the vessel's shields shimmered for the last time and dimmed into nothingness. "Launch everything we have at the warbird!" Worf exclaimed, hoping to quickly finish of the target and move onto the next.  
A death bringing wave of weapons fire was hurtled towards the Klingon's shieldless foe. Without its protective encasing the warbird was open to the array of photon and phaser fire that was sent at it. From all over the vessel fires erupted from impact points and the Romulan ship began to shudder under the magnitude of the bombardment. It was only a few short seconds later that the Romulan craft could no longer withstand the assault and exploded in a flash of brilliance.  
Tension on the Negh'Var's bridge lessened and a brief feeling of joy could be felt coming from the present officers. With three hostiles still remaining that ease was very short-lived as the crew focused back on the task of sending the remaining three Romulan warbirds to join their fallen sister.  
"Set course for the second vessel and fire all forward weapons the moment we're in range," Worf ordered. Without any noticeable hesitation the bridge officers followed those orders and the Negh'Var lurched away from where it had sat.  
If a ship could have felt emotions then the Negh'Var would have surely felt excitement as it headed towards its next target. At near full impulse it sped with the three remaining bird-of-preys in tow. As it approached the burning remnants of what had once defied it the Negh'Var began a barrel starboard roll with a near swan-like grace. Once it had passed the warbird remains the four vessel formation went into a steady dive towards the next to feel their wrath.  
The moment the Negh'Var got within range it did exactly what Worf had requested, and it did so with a vigor all its own. Downward it spiraled all the while never relenting in its barrage of fire. Unlike the previous Romulan vessel this one's protective shielding barely lasted against the Klingon fire. As the Negh'Var closed in on the warbird it refused to give even a moments breath to the ailing vessel. This continued up until the last moment before the two vessels impacted when suddenly the mighty Klingon flagship veered off, just barely avoiding a collision. As the Negh'Var removed itself from the warbird's crosshairs the beaten Romulan ship suddenly opened fire at the three K'Vort cruisers. Disruptor fire shot towards the nearest of the three, the Jourq, and punched several large holes into the small cruiser's wings. Unable to keep flight the small ship flew out of control before colliding into the forward sections of its killer. A second later the entire scene lit up as the Jourq's collision rippled through the Romulan vessel, destroying it in a matter of heartbeats.  
B'elanna made a nearly inaudible gasp as she witnessed the Jourq's end. A few other officers shared the expression, but most of them ignored it for the moment so as to focus all their attention on the remaining two warbirds. Worf was part of the latter. With two vessels destroyed and a third one very nearly crippled he had to devise some strategy in taking down their remaining two foes, and quickly.  
As the Klingon force paused in their movements the bulky Romulan vessels took up attack positions on either side of them. Going over a quick review of battle strategies in his mind Worf tried to come up with the best plan of attack. While most remembered commanders and their strategies went into legendary status that honor had never been bestowed upon him. Being the vaunted Regent and leader of the entire Alliance greatness was expected of him. So when his greatness had the chance to really shine through it was either ignored or just regarded as commonplace for him.  
Blast after blast struck the mighty Negh'Var, making every bulkhead quake under the force of impact. Worf knew that a quick and decisive victory was needed if any of the remaining Klingon vessels were to survive this encounter. Finally inspiration struck him as he believed he had found a weakpoint in the warbird's design. "Order the other two vessels to focus all of their weapon's fire on the connectors between the forward section and the rest of the vessel."  
"Sir?" the tactical officer asked a bit confused.  
"It's simple. We're going to cut that bothersome bird's head clean off," the Regent replied with a grin.  
B'elanna took a quick glance over at her friend and thought for a moment about the euphemism he had just used. Inwardly she broke through the worry and confusion and let herself smile for but a moment. After all the years she had known Worf he still managed to bring a touch of joyful surprise into her life from time to time. For that reason alone made her cherish the bond that they shared.  
With a K'Vort cruiser on either side the Negh'Var made its way towards the Romulan foe directly ahead. Almost immediately it opened fire on the warbird, striking it head on. Mockingly its shimmering shields absorbed what it could of the incoming assault. In retaliation the Romulan vessels sent an onslaught of its own in the Negh'Var's path. Unlike its Romulan counterpart the Klingon flagship had already lost its protective barrier. Torpedoes and disruptor fire rocked the vessels back and forth, punching holes where ever it could.  
"Sir, we're taking heavy damage!" someone shouted over an exploding console. "I recommend we break off our assault!"  
"No, continue with the attack!" Worf commanded as he tightened his fists. "If this is to work then we need to have those shields down so the K'Vort's can attack it full on."  
A steady hand was placed on Worf's shoulder as B'elanna stared at the screen with a typical Klingon lust for combat. In her field of view she could see several bulkheads collapse and small fires ignite all around the bridge. On the screen their target sat, desperately hurtling its armament in the hope of destroying the Negh'Var and those who commanded her.  
As the two mighty vessels approached both each other and death itself neither of them gave any inclination of giving up. After a final shimmer the Romulan shields gave way, opening it up to a full-on attack. Without a heartbeat of hesitation the K'Vort vessels of the Gre'lk and Orin'Ma sped ahead of their mighty leader and began an assault run of their own.  
The two small Klingon cruisers began to feverishly zip around their target, striking it as hard and as often as possible. Nearly oblivious to the onslaught delivered by the bird-of-prey vessels the warbird continued to direct its focus on the still approaching Negh'Var as though the flagship's destruction was their only hope for survival. As the moments ticked by however it became painfully apparent to the Romulan crew of just how devastating the K'Vort attacks were.  
Sitting up and nearly on the edge of his chair Worf stared at the scene as it unfolded before him. A smile came to him as he witnessed the ferocity of the attack by his two subordinate vessels. Already he noticed tears forming and plating beginning to buckle where weapons fire had impacted. Mixed in was the still constant wave being shot from the Negh'Var, which also impacted all over the warbirds forward sections. Worf knew that the defeat of this foe was soon to pass, then only one vessel would be left to stand in their way.  
In a daring last effort the mighty Romulan vessel went into a sharp roll, hoping to deflect any incoming fire and shake loose the pests that continued to plague it. Unfortunately for the Romulans will alone would not save them as a final explosion tore loose the bird's head. Seconds later weapons impact from the Negh'Var turned that forward section into a lighted brilliance and a floating sea of dust, leaving only the burning hulk of the warbird's aft sections to continue to roll as fire covered its metal-plated surface.  
As the fiery warbird remnants drifted downwards the mighty Negh'Var flew undauntingly above. With the two K'Vort vessels back in formation all three vessels pulled a full u-turn loop as they set course for the final enemy to stand against them.  
"Full speed ahead helm!" Worf barked. "And I want everything we have to tossed at that pitiful pa'tahq the moment you get a firing solution!"  
With still quite a distance between the two warrior vessels the Romulan warbird did nothing but sit there motionless and seemingly fearless. Not a single shot had been fired since the Negh'Var had exited the warbird's firing range, and strangely it had made no sort of movement following that. Soldier's instinct would have made you believe that once the warbird could no longer attack then it would have moved to do so once more. That or at least make some attempt to come and try to aid its outnumbered and ailing sister vessel. However neither of these were the case and as to a reason why eluded everyone's mind that wasn't Romulan.  
As the gap shrank everyone's tension on the Negh'Var's bridge grew ten-fold. They still hadn't reached firing range for their weapons and yet every crewmember present acted as though they had. A disturbing silence ensued with everyone's eyes focused on the view screen and their being focused on what they were about to do. Already they had stared down three Romulan warbirds and had managed to keep on going, but not without a noticeable price. Horrible scarring could be seen all over the Negh'Var's shell as a result from the disruptor and torpedo hits they had sustained from the other three enemy vessels. Though the ship may have been bruised the spirit of her crew had not been. That and that alone was about to determine whether or not they would win the day.  
A few more seconds was all that was allowed for the battle's brief calm before chaos once more regained its grip on the situation. Nearly surprising was that the warbird was the first to break that calm as it hurtled several glowing photon torpedoes towards the group of Klingon vessels. Before the Romulan torpedoes were even given a chance to hit their respective targets the Negh'Var retaliated with a volley of its own. Breaths were held as the torpedo forces passed each other in the black void of space before finally reaching their destinations in fiery collisions.  
A forceful tremble was felt in the flagship's bridge as the torpedoes struck. Off to Worf's left a computer display exploded, sending the soldier who watched it sprawling onto the floor. The Regent gripped the sides of his chair while B'elanna rushed over to check on the fallen officer.  
"He's dead," B'elanna shouted as some metallic plating came flying loose, landing near inches from her.  
"Keep firing!" was all that Worf would say.  
Having still not moved from its location the warbird continued its torpedo assault, firing volley after volley at the small attack force. Not yet in range of phasers the Negh'Var along with the Orin'Ma and Gre'lk continued to fire torpedoes of their own, desperate to fight back this one last foe.  
For one of those vessels that fight came to a swift end as two of the Romulan sent torpedoes collided into the forward sections of the already ailing Gre'lk. Upon impact the small Klingon vessel erupted into a fireball which only burned bright enough for others to take notice before disappearing nearly as quickly as it had ignited.  
Unphased by the loss of one of their fellow vessels the remaining two continued at full speed towards those that ended the lives of the brave and loyal Klingon soldiers that had crewed the Gre'lk. Finally within phaser range both the mighty Negh'Var and the small Orin'Ma added a deadly mix of phaser fire in with its already fierce torpedo filled assault. Unable to withstand the now more powerful onslaught the warbird's shields shimmered for only a second more before fading, leaving the warbird open to the Klingons final attack.  
Feeling suddenly vulnerable the Romulans attacked with a new vigor as well. Both phaser and torpedo fire was hurtled back and forth in the space turned battlefield. The two opposing forces seemed evenly matched and the battle appeared on the verge of stalemate until the Romulan attack became suddenly focused. With a new objective in mind the Romulan disruptor fire was turned onto the small K'Vort vessel of the Orin'Ma. As it struck, both of the bird-of-prey's wings came under assault. Acting as a deadly energy made knife the disruptor fire sliced through the fierce little vessel's wings, tearing them off of the vessel's main sections. The bulk of the Orin'Ma sat there suddenly, helplessly still until a few guided Romulan torpedoes smashed into it, sending the Negh'Var's final escort into oblivion.  
As the last of the bird-of-prey vessels winked out of existence a small amount of grief was felt in the heart of each of the Negh'Var's crew. They had lost so many comrades that death had become an unsettling commonplace for each of them. Still throughout it all no death was felt less by them. And if any had then their very being would be lost, and with their being any hope that they might have along with a real reason for fighting and dying in order to drive back the night and claim victory over the Romulans.  
Though grief touched each of their hearts that grief wasn't allowed to make them even think of relenting in their assault of the final enemy warbird. Something new coursed through their veins and was made apparent by their actions. It seemed almost like anger, or hatred, that now drove them towards the destiny. Having fought as long as each of them had though there was little room for that anger any more. No, something different, something almost intangible, was felt in each of them now. That new something was difficult to put into any sort of words but it felt almost like determination. Determination for stopping these Romulans from taking any more Alliance lives. For ending this war once and for all.  
The Negh'Var, refusing in itself to cease its attack, sped forward as fast as her engines would allow towards the menacing Romulan vessel. In the midst of the Orin'Ma's destruction and all the other chaos both vessels had continued to fire upon each other with deadly fierceness. With the passing of each moment more damage was inflicted to both vessels and more debris was blown clear to litter the surrounding space. While at this confrontations start the Negh'Var had been the more wounded of the two the Romulan warbird's damage had quickly increased to match, thanks in part to the two ill-fated K'Vort vessels.  
Nearly even matched in conditions another stalemate seemed to be approaching the two combatants. Unwilling to accept such a fate the Romulan's disruptors once more took on a will of their own and guided themselves to a soft spot of their oncoming foe. Precision accuracy led those disruptor charged blasts to the flagship's starboard nacelle, which was shredded to pieces upon impact with the weapons fire.  
"Sir, we've lost all function in our starboard nacelle! Thrusters are at reduced power and we're leaking warp plasma!" an officer shouted out the grim sounding status report.  
"Continue our course helm!" Worf shouted in response. "Nothing will stand in our way of destroying those green blooded pa'tahqs save for death itself!"  
Ignoring its wounds the Alliance flagship continued towards the Romulan warbird, though at an understandably slower speed. While its speed may have decreased the power behind its attack had not wavered in the slightest. Spewing superheated green plasma behind it in a magnificent trail continued on the Negh'Var all the while launching every weapon it had at its foe. Soon the warbird's outer hull was pockmarked from the multiple impacts from the Klingon weapons. With so much visible damage a logical mind would have believed the Romulan vessel to be in at least some weakened state, yet it gave no such sign of any diminished state. It was as though everything the Klingons threw at it was mocked at and did little more then cosmetic scarring to the vessel's hull.  
Irritation and annoyance surged through Worf as he looked at the enemy vessel on the view screen. They were using everything they had and still barely any damage had been affected to it. Meanwhile chunk after chunk was being blown off of the Negh'Var, not to mention the situation with the nacelle. Worf knew that he had to pull a targ out of his hat in order to win this battle. Otherwise the Romulans could claim the biggest victory of the war; the Regent and his ship's destruction.  
Blast after blast impacted the Klingon flagship, sending a numbing quake through the vessel's bulkheads with each impact. B'elanna knew that their doom was impending and unless something was done quickly that doom would come knocking on their door. From the tactical station her gaze raced around the room, hoping that someone would quickly think of a solution to their problem. Before focusing back on the console before her she took one fleeting look at the station's former commander as he lay dead at her feet. Though death had become a common thing to see it still didn't help to hold down the bile she felt in her throat.  
Suddenly inspiration struck the stoic Regent. Quickly he looked over the Romulan's ship design and did a mental calculation. A weak but still present grin appeared on his face. It would be a risk, and they might die in the process, but it would destroy the Romulans as well. Besides, what other choice did they have?  
"I want you to target the warbird's starboard nacelle with everything we've got!" Worf ordered, borrowing a page from the Romulans battle tactics. "I want to see that nacelle spread out across the entire sector."  
The near random firing pattern from the Negh'Var abruptly ceased as B'elanna targeted every photon launcher and phaser array to unleash its payload on the Romulan's precious nacelle. Seconds later a volley of photon torpedoes smashed into the nacelle's outer casing, breaking it open like a fragile Tarkellin egg. Matching the Negh'Var was the warbird's now plasma bleeding wound. With a barely function nacelle of its own the warbird was now on even ground with its Klingon counterpart. Even ground wasn't enough though. No, Worf refused to halt until one of them was sent to a fiery death.  
"Continue firing B'elanna!" Worf shouted over an explosion. "I want you to tear that entire section of the warbird apart!"  
As their photon launchers were being reloaded B'elanna used the phasers in the same scalpel technique that the K'Vort vessels had used earlier. With her well-trained precision firing she began to cut away at the battered hull around the warbird's nearly dead engine. Being a blunt weapon the torpedoes had literally smashed the surrounding sections to pieces. Now with the phasers B'elanna was doing her best to cut away the twisted metallic excess. For what purpose she wasn't sure yet but Worf had a plan in mind, and she wasn't about to let her friend down when she was needed most.  
Worf brought his hands together underneath his chin as he surveyed B'elanna's work. A small smile flashed briefly on his face as he realized that his plan might actually work. The way the Romulans had designed the D'Deridex class warbird made it a nearly unbreakable wall. Indeed that wall was strong but like an egg it was only a shell, a small part of the larger thing. If they could break open that shell then surely they would be able to reach that soft fragile inside and exploit it. That was Worf's plan, and if it were to fail then surely they would fail as well.  
For not even a second did B'elanna cease in her phaser surgery of the warbird's wing. Having almost completely gotten rid of any remnants of the vessel's powerful nacelle she had begun to work on the metal plating that had at one time served to hold that nacelle in place. With reloaded torpedo tubes she had once more begun to launch the glowing spheres of death. Instead of helping in the phasers delicate operation she had turned their destruction towards the near pristine port side of the Romulan vessel. As before on the opposite side the photons beat and bludgeoned the warbird's port side, quickly scarring it.  
Through all of the ensuing chaos the Negh'Var had dutifully remained on course. The distance between the vessels had nearly been crossed and the mighty Klingon vessel would soon be nose to nose with its aggressor. Though the Negh'Var was immense by any Alliance standards it was still outclassed by the even mightier warbirds that the Romulans so skillfully employed. If both vessels were to have been measured alongside each other than the warbird would easily outclass the Klingon vessel. It was nearly a third larger, which had helped in making it such a formidable vessel. Still though no Alliance vessel, especially not the one commanded by Regent Worf himself, was about to back down solely because of a size difference.  
Once more a phaser blast struck the warbird's twisted metal plated wing before the wing itself nearly crumbled apart. With a now gaping hole left in place of the missing nacelle Worf's plan began to become apparent, if not quite understood. Using the space between the top and bottom sections already built into the warbird's design, coupled with the now widened space thanks to B'elanna's precision strikes Worf's plan involved taking the Negh'Var between the two sections and unleashing its payload on the vulnerable connector sections in between. Risky, yes. Suicide, perhaps. But it was one of those rare and brilliantly insane strategies that just had to be followed to fruition once conceived.  
"Full speed helm; course oh-two-nine by four-three-six."  
The helmsman spun around in his chair for a moment to stare at his leader in a wild mix of emotions. "Sir," he said with a touch of worry, "that will take us straight into the Romulan vessel."  
"Not into it lieutenant but through it. I want you to fly this vessel in between the warbird's two main sections and back out again."  
"That's suicide sir," the officer replied even more noticeably shaken.  
With that comment Worf rose from his chair and walked over to the worried officer. The lieutenant began to flinch as he saw Worf raise his hand, afraid that his comments were about to be rewarded with a swift hit across the face. Instinctively he relaxed though as Worf's hand was laid not on his face but on his shoulder. Worf gave him a reassuring smile before speaking to the remaining bridge officers.  
"Suicide? This course of action may very well lead us to our doom I'll admit but I believe it will work. Why do I believe this? Because this vessel is crewed by the finest group of Klingon soldiers in the entire Alliance, that's why! I have my doubts about this plan but what I don't doubt is that if there was one crew that could pull it off it would be this one. Whether we die today or not is not the issue. What is the issue is how we face this daunting task that has been set before us. We might die, but we will die as Klingons! We will die standing up to these green-blooded enemies of ours and we will die with the courage and honor that is sung of! So now I ask each of you to remember who we are not as individuals, but as a race. A race of soldiers who refuse to cower and hide under the heel of a Romulan boot. For this alone I feel that we must take this course. Because whether we see the days end or not I can guarantee that the Romulan pa'tahqs aboard that vessel will not. And that my brothers and sisters is truly why we are here. To stare this war in the face and say to it that we do not fear it. So I ask you to place faith in me and in each other so not a soul will fear of this a moment longer. Are you with me?"  
Both physically and emotionally wounded the soldiers glanced at each and finally at Worf. "Of course we are with you Regent Worf!" B'elanna shouted with an eager Klingon smile. "To the bitter end we stand with you and with each other."  
Staring at B'elanna for a moment Worf couldn't help but to feel a surge of both pride and joy for her. If he were to face oblivion then he was glad that she was there to face it with him. With that the officers, including the helmsman, focused back on their duties and on their destiny.  
Nearly on top of each other the Romulans continued in their desperation to destroy the fierce flagship of the Alliance. Innumerable holes had been blown from the Negh'Var and as damaged as it was it was near miraculous to still be at such peak performance. Almost no inch of the flagship's skin had been spared any sign of damage and close to half of the vessel lay behind it in a trail of debris; and yet it pressed on. It seemed as though Worf's speech had affected not only the Negh'Var's crew but also the Negh'Var itself. The ship was ready to end this struggle, and end it swiftly.  
Under the control of the lieutenant to which Worf had placed so much trust the Negh'Var made its final move. At a near surprising crawl it eased itself between the two metal plates. Once they were nearly halfway through Worf gave the long awaited order that he hoped would end this conflict and leave them victorious.  
"Fire everything we have at the central connectors B'elanna. I want not a photon left or a phaser bank still with charge once we're through!"  
Feverishly her hands worked as B'elanna set out to fulfill her companion's order. The first to be fired was a volley of torpedoes which struck all along the warbird's inside. Fires erupted from each impact and already the vessel was beginning to buckle under the strain delivered it by the Negh'Var's onslaught. With her precision phaser fire she targeted the main sections which connected both the top and lower halves of the mighty warbird. In a brilliant lighted dance the phaser fire weaved around the connection pylons, slicing them to pieces. Added the attack from the Negh'Var's phasers and the Romulan warbird could no longer stand strong against the Klingon fury.  
Giving way to the fire the connectors began to collapse, bringing the top half down with it. Now was the critical make or break instant for the Negh'Var. The escape had to be timed just right or else the Romulan warbird would collapse onto them, destroying both vessels instantly. Worf along with several others held their breath and fixed their eyes on the view screen. From the screen's edge they could see the warbird as it began to become engulfed in flames.  
Sweat beaded the helmsman's forehead and yet he remained as focused as ever. Several scraping and crunching sounds could be heard coming from outside of the ship and it sounded as though the entire universe was bearing down on them. In the midst of that they remained stable though, not willing to claim either victory or defeat until their fate was assured. Slowly a black and dotted sky replaced the weapon born flames until that sky was all that appeared on the screen. Excitement and joy at success could be felt emanating from each soldier present, and yet none made a verbal show of it. They all simply stood there and let the victory blanket over them.  
Without warning one last wave rocked the half dead Negh'Var. That wave tossed them about and flung them several hundred meters from where they had been only seconds ago. The wave was one last blast from the Romulan vessel. A reminder of what they had just destroyed as the warbird faded into oblivion.  
Picking himself up off of the floor Worf brushed himself off as he surveyed the smashed and devastated bridge. Though the Negh'Var had taken a beating her crew had held up fairly well considering. A sudden rustling from under a fallen bulkhead grabbed Worf's attention and as he removed it a wide grin was displayed on his face. Slowly he picked up the dirt and blood covered B'elanna who immediately smiled back at him. "We did it," she whispered weakly.  
"You say that like there was any doubt," Worf replied with a most pleased smile. As he placed an arm around B'elanna he took one look into her auburn eyes before simply stating, "Now how about we take on a real challenge, the conference on Narendra III." 


	12. The Other Casualty of War

_ Chapter Twelve: The Other Casualty of War_  
  
Mission  
After seemingly weeks of unending preparation the day for the Narendra III Conference finally arrives. As the delegates prepare for an uneventful meeting plans begin to unfold and questions emerge as some individuals plot to use the conference to forward their own agendas.  
Mission Date:  
111th day in the 2369th of Molar  
  
Standing there, looking at the room around him awe nearly took control of the mighty Regent. It was amazing that such a room could even be conceived, let alone constructed. In all its beauty and glory though the room had been built to serve an ugly purpose. That purpose would finally come to terms in only a few short hours as the delegates meandered their way in and thus would begin the long awaited Narendra Conference.  
The conference had been long coming and even though Worf would rather forgo the near-childish politics that were sure to ensue he knew that it was just another part of the job. Besides, it had not been an easy journey to get here.  
After the Negh'Var's encounter with the warbird squadron it could do nothing but limp its way to Narendra III. With a smashed vessel and a dead or wounded crew someone might think of the soldiers to be disheartened or perhaps even embarrassed at their situation. Not these soldiers though. No, these were Klingons and Klingons wore their scars with pride. They were a people bred for war and that breeding had been a large help in their survival thus far.  
Almost hesitantly Worf sat down in his designated seat. Very soon many more would do the same. Then perhaps the energy wasted on worry and doubt the Alliance members were all harboring could be redirected into bringing down their Romulan foe once and for all.  
That seemed to have become quite a challenge though. No matter what tactic, what strategy the Alliance had devised, they all seemed to make little if any headway on stemming off the Romulan threat. In the past three weeks alone the Romulans had fought back with a resolve that one would expect a Klingon or Breen to exhibit. The attacks recently unleashed by the Romulans had been cold, calculated, and very lethal. Very few soldiers had been spared Romulan wrath at each of the encounters and aside for the Negh'Var's skirmish there really hadn't been an Alliance victory for several months. For some reason the Romulans had suddenly changed their strategy; and Worf was determined to find out why.  
Romulan resolve or not that issue was a far cry from any of the tentative topics of discussion. While the overall idea behind the conference did indeed concern the Romulans and the war to an extent this particular conference was more about the dull drum politics behind the Alliance's inner workings. Frankly it was something that Worf would rather avoid all together. A truly sad thing occurs when one would rather throw himself into certain doom rather than sit safely at bay and listen to bureaucrats. This had become a fact of life to him though. A fact that wouldn't soon change.  
A small Terran woman suddenly appeared from a doorway behind Worf. Cautiously she approached the Regent in order to complete the task to which she had been assigned. She stood there nearly silent for several moments, waiting for Worf to turn and acknowledge her. When he failed to do so she nervously cleared her throat; a gesture which made Worf spin on his heels almost instantly.  
"Is there something you need Keiko?" he said to the woman with a touch of agitation.  
"Overseer Seven wanted me to ask if you and Intendent B'elanna had a moment to spare for discussion before the conference took place," the woman replied, nearly shaking from intimidation.  
Worf looked over the woman and pondered her master's request for a moment. To him he couldn't possibly imagine any reason Seven might have for wanting to see him and B'elanna before the conference's start. Yet, he had no pressing matters that needed attending to and as such had no real excuse for not going. "Tell Seven I will be there shortly," he commanded before ushering the young woman away. Before he left the huge meeting room he took it all in one final time. The next time he would see it dozens of delegates would be piled in and so that unmistakable awe would be diminished. That one last moment lingered on and splashed into several other moments before the mighty Regent finally had his fill and left the room to its empty self.  
After departing the meeting hall Worf began to weave his way through the bustling maze of people. Narendra's capital city, Valuorn, had one of the largest spaceports this side of the Typhon Expanse. Not only that but considering that Narendra III itself was one of the most significant Klingon colonies and you had a guaranteed large populace on the planet at any given time.  
Crowds really didn't bother Worf yet today there was a touch of agitation in him while he shuffled around the sea of people. He didn't quite understand it himself. Maybe it was nerves about the impending conference that was bothering him, or better yet wonder at what possibly could it be that Seven wanted to speak to him about. Whatever it was it was very unsettling to the Regent and he did not appreciate it one bit.  
Several shouts of his name could be heard as Worf made his way down one of the port's busiest avenues. Some came from known vendors, probably wishing him to buy one of their sub-standard merchandise items. Others came from fans of his, or maybe just commoners who had recognized the stony face of the Alliance's leader. Either way they were all ignored. While Worf did enjoy a moment spent with the civilians with which he protected from time to time today was not a day to be spent on such luxuries. There was simply too many things on his mind and so little time was allowed to him on this important day to even spare a moment.  
Even though the Alliance leader projected his desire to be alone that didn't sway a single soul. Various calls could be heard from literally everywhere and Worf had had just about enough when suddenly a hand was placed on his shoulder. The startle from such a move jostled Worf and he spun around to face whoever dared to sneak up on their mighty leader. His roughened features went soft though the moment he saw that it was Martok, his chief military leader and general for the entire Klingon fleet. "What can I do for you Martok?" he asked only halfway pleasant.  
"I just had a matter that I wanted to discuss with you Regent."  
Worf gestured for the Klingon soldier to join him in his walk before asking what the matter was.  
"I was going over the itinerary for this afternoon's conference and I noticed that very little time has been given for war progress. Now I know that there are plenty of things that need to be talked about at this conference but we are at war sir." Martok paused for a moment when he noticed the nearly insulted look on his commander's face. "Of course you full know that Worf," he said hoping to quickly recover his position. "All I meant is that in such a fierce struggle as it is I think that it should be our top concern."  
At this Worf clasped his hand around Martok's arm and looked at him with a tinge of understanding in his eyes. "I understand your concern old friend but you have my word that everything on that list is just as if not more important to the war effort. Outwardly things like cargo runs and resource transfers seem to be irrelevant in the matters of war, but if it weren't for these things then this Alliance of ours wouldn't be able to function. And if it can't function then why are we dieing out there to ensure its survival?"  
As the two soldiers walked Martok pondered Worf's words for a moment. They made sense to him, and yet they didn't seem to be enough to satisfy his questioning. For a moment he thought to open his mouth with another question, but at the last moment he decided to do the right thing and simply trust in his leader's judgment. The two then proceeded silently on for a few blocks before Martok's mind came up with another question. "Where are you off to?" he asked of Worf.  
For a moment Worf wondered if a truthful answer should be given in the matter. He wasn't sure how secretive his meeting with Seven was supposed to be and if he were to mention it to Martok then he might break some silent code the Overseer had put forth. Looking at his subordinate for a moment he finally gave way and decided he should be as honest with him as possible. "I'm going to see the Overseer."  
"Really?" Martok opened his eyes wide in a form of confusion at the statement. "What for?"  
"That one I don't really know old friend. I got a message that she wanted to speak to me and B'elanna before the conference. For whatever purpose I can only guess at."  
Martok only responded with a slight muttering of the word 'ok' before silence came between the two stalwart soldiers. The silence pressed on as they continued their way through the bustling marketplace. After a point Martok broke the silence for a final time. "Well I better be off. I have to go and meet up with Gowron and Kempec before the conference begins."  
Worf made a slight sneer at the mentioning of Gowron's name before responding to Martok. "I'll meet you later on then," he said before the two clasped arms and separated in the vast sea of bystanders.  
Worf resumed his lonely trek through the crowd as he made his way towards the inn that housed the conference delegates. Being nearly there he didn't have to venture alone for long. Once he had arrived he scanned the room listing posted at the inn's lobby until he found the listing for Seven's quarters. He then made his way through the crowded inn until he reached the needed door. Before knocking he paused for a moment and sort of laughed at how everyone in the lobby had tried their hardest to stay out of his way. So was a benefit of power he thought to himself before knocking on the door to Seven's temporary quarters.  
As the door opened Worf was again faced with Seven's assistant Keiko. "Mistress Seven and Lady B'elanna are in the next room Regent," she said before leading him deeper into the Overseer's quarters.  
Following the Terran woman Worf thought it odd for a moment how Keiko seemed so at peace when before the slightest of noises would have terrified her. He finally reasoned though that a free Terran amidst a planet of Terran enemies had to be disconcerting for the young woman. If the situation were reversed he knew that a safe quarters would be much more relaxing then a dangerous marketplace.  
"Worf, so good of you to join us. Come have a seat," Seven greeted as the mighty Klingon entered the room. "Can I have Keiko get you something?"  
The almost uncharacteristic jubilance of the Terran Overseer shocked Worf for a moment. As that moment passed though and he came back to reality he simply shook his head no to her offer. "Why have you asked me and B'elanna here Seven?" Worf asked as he took notice of his friend's presence.  
Before saying another word to either Klingon Seven ushered Keiko over and whispered a task into her ear which sent her scurrying away. "I want to apologize for the false demeanor first of all. I may not like my Terran heritage but I am Terran nonetheless. And my high distinction in the Alliance has forced me to....be sort of a role model for the rest of them."  
"I barely noticed," Worf muttered before taking a seat across from the Terran woman and completing a circle set by her and B'elanna.  
"Now that you are both here I can tell you why I requested your presence." She paused for a moment and muddled over words in her head before continuing. "I'm sure you are both aware of the recent change in Romulan tactics."  
"How can any soldier in the entire Alliance not be aware of their tactics?" B'elanna said, speaking the first words Worf had heard from her since they had arrived planet side.  
For a moment Seven was taken back by B'elanna's words. She hadn't expected such a response, but within moments she shook her surprise off and continued on. "There have been several Romulan assaults within the past few weeks. All of which have been quick and decisive. Some of which have even been against our most well kept secret facilities."  
Immediately Worf's mind went to the Klingon shipyard around orbit of Q'osk V. After all his thinking on the subject he still had no clue as to how the Romulans had learned of the hidden base. Some speculations had dance around his mind ever since he had first received word of the facilities destruction, but he wasn't about to entertain speculation.  
"I think the three of us can agree that something isn't right about all of this. And I don't know about either of you but only one explanation seems to come to mind."  
Both Klingons looked at each other then back at Seven, their curiosities piqued. A pause ensued before B'elanna urged Seven on.  
"There must be a traitor in our ranks. Someone high enough up in the chain of command to know about a secret as big as the Q'osk V shipyard."  
Such a bold statement struck both Worf and B'elanna instantly and the expression on their respective faces showed it. "Do you realize what you're saying Seven?" B'elanna asked not quite sure if she had heard correctly.  
"I know that the thought of a traitor seems nearly insane at the moment but look at the facts. In the last month we have lost three key facilities, all of which were thought to be invulnerable. Our trade routes have come under fire, and even the Alliance flagship was attacked. Do you think the Romulans could have accomplished any of this without help?"  
Rubbing his chin Worf thought about Seven's words for a moment before he decided to respond. "First off, the Negh'Var did come under fire but we can't be sure that they knew what they were attacking. Aside from a few markings it's no different than any other Negh'Var class warship we have. They may have just seen it as an opportunity to take out one more of our capital ships." Though the words came from Worf he didn't entirely believe them. To think that the Romulans would send four of their warbirds just to attack a nonspecific target deep inside Alliance territory didn't add up. He decided though it best to keep those reservations to himself. "Second the trade route attacks don't strike me as that odd. I'm sure it was only a matter of time before the Romulans got bold enough to take out some defenseless cargo vessels."  
"You may be right on those points Regent but that doesn't explain the sudden attacks on the Galgathon Shipyards and Kelnok Nor. And what of Q'osk V? Most Alliance citizens didn't even know of that base and yet the Romulans knew exactly where it was. Plus they attacked it days before the first Jach'eng prototype was to be launched. What else could explain that other then that the Romulans are being slipped information."  
Again Worf pondered Seven's comments. He was able to see both merit and flaws in her reasoning. In his mind the point of there being a traitor wasn't a solid one yet. There simply wasn't enough to convince him. "Tell me this then Seven," he said about to bring what he perceived to be a flaw to light. "If the Romulans are being aided then why have they only attacked these smaller targets? Why haven't they sent an attack force to one of our major assets?" As he spoke the word assets his gaze turned to B'elanna, which the female Klingon picked up on immediately.  
"Sir?" Seven said, not quite following Worf.  
"What he is talking about is that we have plenty of other bases that would far more cripple us then what they've hit so far." B'elanna added, hoping to explain Worf's statement. "For instance, why haven't they attacked the Sol system?" she asked, her words trailing off.  
"The Sol system is too deep within our territory for them to risk an attack."  
"But Q'osk V wasn't? It was far from any of our borders to be without the same risk posed by the Sol system. Plus the Q'osk system was virtually desolate, aside from the shipyard. Where as the Sol system is home to one of our chief research stations as well and one of the most important shipyards in the whole Alliance. Add the mining operation in the system's asteroid belt and I would think that the Romulans would much rather risk their lives to take that out rather then the target present in the Q'osk system."  
"Necessity B'elanna. They knew that our new super weapon was about to be launched, one which could have turned the tide of this war in our favor for good. That is why they chose to send their fleet there instead of Sol. If they hadn't of stopped our Jach'eng project right then and there then they would have been virtually signing their own surrender. Plus, as you said there is a large shipyard around Mars. That would have given the Romulan fleet some resistance, if not much. No I think they would have chosen the defenseless target instead."  
Worf listened to the two go on for several moments, trying hard to assess each of the points that were made. It seemed to him that both women were wrong and right at the same time. Everything that was said between them was valid, but not concrete enough to form any sort of basis. Finally he lifted a hand that hushed them both in their staling exchange of words.  
"I don't want to go against my friend B'elanna here but I must be right. Don't you see that Worf?"  
"What I see is two people presenting nothing but half constructed opinions. The sudden attacks made on the Romulan's part has done nothing but placed questions in my mind. And no matter how much speculating about them that we do I doubt that we will be able to know anything for certain."  
"I may not be presenting a solid case here but don't we have enough to warrant suspicion? Shouldn't we try to find out how secure we really are before we give a traitor another chance to aide the Romulans?" Seven's statement sounded almost as a plea as she tried to stand firm on her belief.  
"And do what, declare martial law on the entire Alliance? Maybe you haven't noticed as Worf and myself have but the members of the Alliance barely keep from fighting each other. If you start whispering the word 'traitor' without solid reasoning it may be enough to do what the Romulans have been trying for nine years; destroy the Alliance."  
As Worf leaned back in the plush velvet chair he saw the formings of another argument begin to brew between the two women. It was then when he decided to bring up another point. "You're forgetting another source from where the Romulans may be getting their information," he said as he looked across the room to Seven.  
As before Seven had a confused look graced on her face. "What source are you referring to Worf?" she asked hoping his next statement would dispel her latest wave of confusion.  
"Prisoners of war," was all that he chose to respond with.  
The next to speak wasn't Seven but in fact B'elanna. "Prisoners of war?" she asked of her friend with a noticeable shock in her voice. "Very rarely have the Romulans actually managed to capture any Alliance soldiers, and you're suggesting that one of those brave warriors divulged information to the enemy? That strikes me as nothing more than absolute insanity."  
"The thought of soldiers divulging information to the enemy may seem crazy to us Klingons B'elanna but you have to remember that not all of our allies would be so resilient in the face of torture. Ferengi, for example, are notorious for having a low tolerance to torture."  
"You may be right Worf but I can't recall any top-level officer to go missing recently. Our station at Q'osk V was only told to a handful of our most decorated and trusted officers. If torture was the means by which the Romulans found out about it then they must have gotten a hold of one of those officers. And as I sit here not a single name comes to mind."  
"Koltarn," Seven muttered so softly that her Klingon counterparts didn't hear her at first. "It must have been Commander Koltarn."  
With the second mentioning of the soldier's name B'elanna's ears picked it up and she furiously stood up as her right hand instinctively dove for where her dk'tahg blade was strapped to her thigh. "Commander Koltarn is one of the finest officers in the entire Klingon army. To caste such dishonoring blame on him is enough insult to have your tongue cut out!"  
"It makes sense B'elanna. As you said, he is a fine officer. One of the select few to be bestowed the information on the Q'osk V shipyard in fact. He has been missing in action for well over a month now. And contact was lost with him just one week prior to the Q'osk V shipyard coming under attack. The Romulans must have captured him when he tried to take that cloaking device on Delpox II and then tortured the information about the Jach'eng's launch out of him."  
"Klingon's don't succumb to torture," B'elanna said, teeth grinding as she began to seethe with anger.  
"Under normal circumstances perhaps not. But when you have someone like the Tal'Shiar to deal with a normally tight-lipped individual may be coaxed into divulging something they normally wouldn't."  
"Tal'Shiar or no Tal'Shiar Koltarn wouldn't betray the Alliance. No Klingon would. We would rather die then dishonor ourselves in such a fashion."  
"I have to agree with B'elanna." There was an unusual calm in the Regent's tone. His tone was nearly a complete opposite of B'elanna's, something which she didn't quite understand. "The Tal'Shiar may be good at torturing information but Klingon resolve is just as tough. Besides, Koltarn would be one of the last soldiers to betray the Alliance."  
"That may be true but still..." Seven started but was suddenly interrupted by the reappearance of Keiko.  
"I apologize for interrupting Overseer, but it is time for the council meeting," she said meekly before departing once more.  
"We can continue our finger pointing later ladies. Now though I think we have more pressing matters to attend to." Worf then rose from his chair and walked out of the room, choosing to wait just outside the quarter's door for the other two. Being the three most powerful members of the Alliance for them to arrive together would bring a sort of strength to the proceedings. With the recent increase in the Romulan threat a presence such as theirs would probably add a touch to everyone's morale, if not more. Once B'elanna and Seven joined him they left the extravagant inn and started to make their way back to the vacuous chamber where Worf had spent his morning.  
Once back on the streets all three noticed how the marketplace's bustle hadn't appeared to have lessened at all, even though the day was starting to fade. The sea of patrons seemed to stretch on forever and any normal person might have had a problem with getting anywhere amidst the traffic. Not Worf or his two companions though. Recognizing the three and their status the sea of people seemed to part around them, making their journey barely a pain. After his experience in the marketplace earlier combined with the stress of the heated discussion which had taken place in Seven's quarters Worf was relieved to finally get a small reprieve from the chaos his life seemed to attract. He knew though that his reprieve would be fleeting though because the council meeting was sure to be no different from what had occurred between Seven and B'elanna, only much worse.  
After their trek through the hectic marketplace the trio finally arrived at the entrance to the grand hall where the meeting was to take place. The building's outward appearance seemed to reflect a sort of elegance that the neighboring buildings somehow lacked. Inside there was little other then the main meeting chamber. Originally the building designer probably had in mind for it to become some sort of great theater house. Most likely to play host to any number of Klingon operas. However someone in the Alliance hierarchy had deemed it to be better suited as a meeting hall. This sadly though put the grand hall in a general state of disuse as the council met so infrequently; and not always did they take place on Narendra III. Worf as well as Seven and B'elanna paused for a moment to gaze on the building's unique elegance before they entered it.  
Once inside the trio made their way down the curved hall that wound its way around the whole of the council chamber. Already the hallway was filling with Terran attendants who would see fit to any need their Alliance masters might have during the proceedings. After a small and uneventful journey down the hallway Worf located the door which led to a balcony set aside for them. Being such prestigious members they were reserved the primest of accommodations, something which Worf took with both graciousness and distaste.  
Seven was the first among the three to take her seat, followed quickly by B'elanna then finally Worf. As the Regent looked out onto the room that was only hours ago serene he noticed how it was nearly full. As his gaze wandered over the various delegations many faces were instantly recognized. In the Klingon seats were his friend Martok, along with Gowron and the plump Kempec. Both of the latter Klingons Worf didn't have much respect for. He saw them as privileged Klingons who didn't get their honor from glorious battle but had siphoned off the glory of their families. That type of Klingon Worf had very little patience for. It was at times like this that he wished that his friend and adopted brother Duras was still alive. There was a Klingon whose honor was a role model.  
Moving on he saw Natima Lang and the Obsidian Order's leader Enabrain Tain in the Cardassian seats. Lang was the head of Cardassia's Detapa Council and had done a well enough job in her world's politics to gain a note of respect from Worf; which was quite an accomplishment for a Cardassian. Tain on the other hand held quite the opposite position in Worf's mind. Sneaky, underhanded, manipulative, the typical Cardassian. One would almost think of them as being related to Romulans, on a personality side. This was the main cause for his dislike for the race. The third member of the Cardassian delegation was a gul by the name of Evek. He had an extensive war record but nothing that had caught Worf's interest. It was interesting to see yet another new face fill the third seat of the Cardassian delegation. Ever since Gul Dukat had been censured and lost his role on the delegation the Cardassians had found it hard to find a suitable replacement. Dukat had been revered among his people. Truly considered to be one of their greats. It was almost ironic that he had been forced into seclusion after it was revealed that he had an illegitimate half-Bajoran daughter who subsequently had murdered the Bajoran's spiritual leader, Kai Winn.  
The Bajoran delegation was of course headed by the coy Intendant Kira Nerrys. She was not a favorite of Worf's, but he tolerated her friendship of him mostly out of respect of his imzadi Deanna. The pair had spent a great deal of time together, especially right before Deanna's murder. That plus she was good for her people, if not so much good for the Alliance. Years after the fact it still puzzled him why she had stepped down from her much sought after position as Overseer. And then when she named a Terran woman as her successor it did nothing but add to everyone's confusion.  
With that thought his attention was turned off to his left to look at Seven. Such a mysterious woman, with so little chance of getting answers. No one was sure exactly where she had come from or what she had done before suddenly appearing in the service of Kira. After her parents died he had heard she was raised by Cardassians, though Seven chose to distance herself as much as possible with their culture. Almost as much she had distanced herself with her Terran heritage. He would have liked to know more about the woman but suddenly the long wait ended as a young Klingon officer stepped out into the forum and rang the large Bell of Tarqluin, signaling the meeting's official commencement.  
Worf rose from his chair and looked over the delegates one last time before addressing them. "Ladies and gentlemen delegates, welcome to the Narendra Conference. Overseer Seven and I appreciate your attendance." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated playing the role of politician but it was an unwelcome necessary that had become part of his life. "Placed on each of your tables should be a list of topics that will be discussed. If you don't have one then one will provided for you at request via one of the various Terran aides located to the rear of each delegation's assigned area. Unless there are any other questions I say we should begin with item number forty-two."  
"Now why ever would you want to start off with resource allocation?" Kira said with a sort of confused smile on her face. "Why don't we get to the real point here Regent, the Romulans. They are the ones that we should focus on, not something as menial as resource allocation."  
"I agree with the Bajoran Intendant." It was Gul Evek who added a response. "We are at war here, and while resource operations and mineral quotas are vital to our success shouldn't the actual strategics take precedence?"  
"You would do anything to go against a Klingon position," Gowron replied, eyes widening. "Resources can be just as vital as strategics. If that is where Regent Worf would like to start then that is where we shall begin."  
Barely into the conference and the delegations were already coming to blows. This was the strenuous situation that Worf faced. Allies that were not really allies at all. All pooling together their talents for the sole objective of wiping out the Romulans. It was an admirable goal but barely enough to act as the glue the Alliance needed to stay together.  
"Very well then Intendant Kira," Worf interrupted the bickering delegates. "I'm sure recent events are on all our minds so let's start there. It's as good of a place as any."  
"Thank you Worf. You certainly can be a reasonable leader, which is why I'm glad you are Regent. Now, who would like to go first?"  
Suddenly an old Breen general by the name of Rakln stood up. "If I may, I would like to start."  
"Go ahead General Rakln," Worf said as he gestured with his hand for the Breen to go on.  
After a slight nod of acknowledgement from the Breen he started speaking to the assembled delegation. "Like everyone else here the Breen have suffered considerable loss as of recent. With the loss of our Galgathon Shipyards our manufacturing rate has been reduced by a third. It was a heavy loss for us indeed. As was many of the losses felt around the Alliance with bases like Kelnok Nor and such. Add the fact that our ships have lost every recent engagement and surely the tide of war seems to have turned against us. From what I have heard from many people since my vessel arrived here on Narendra III is a questioning of why the Romulans tactics have suddenly become fiercer. This is not the question on my mind. For in the end the Romulans too are warriors just trying to survive the day's end. No, my question is why haven't we been able to put up a stronger defense? Why has every place they have attacked recently been nearly defenseless?"  
"Our fleet is spread thin Rakln," came the words of the Klingon's fleet general Martok. "We can't have our ships everywhere, we don't have the manpower for such a feat. Of course some places are going to have to be left without a squadron to protect it."  
"This I know full well Martok. As fleet general for the Breen I know all about how stretched our fleet is. But what I'm trying to point out is how the Romulan's recent targets have been important ones. True that not every place can have a squadron stationed there around the clock but a place as important as the Galgathon Shipyards should have been a priority for that sort of protection shouldn't it have been?"  
"Of course you would mention a Breen installation," Evek commented, putting an emphasis on the word Breen.  
"I was merely using that as an example. Surely your Kelnok Nor base was just as vital. As was the Klingon's shipyard at Q'osk V. That is something I'm curious about. With as important as the Jach'eng project was to us winning the war why wasn't there a squadron stationed there, let alone anything besides a few birds-of-prey?"  
"We had no reason to believe that the Q'osk shipyard was in jeopardy!" Gowron shouted, feeling as though the Breen had just insulted the honor of the entire Klingon race. "The Q'osk V shipyard was the most secret installation in the entire Alliance. How we were to know the Romulans would find it?"  
"Still, the fact is the risk shouldn't have been taken."  
"He has a point. As I have looked over the recent fleet movements it does seem that some places have been left alone when they shouldn't be. Q'osk V and Kelnok Nor are only recent examples. The impact was felt just as hard when we lost Lyca Station last year or the Ferengi dilithium deposits on Chantox IX the year before. Meanwhile it seems like some areas keep getting more and more support when the threat of attack hasn't come anywhere near. Take the Sol system for example. I see on my P.A.D.D. here that they are scheduled to receive even more of our defense platforms, as well as a fresh supply of vessels. Important as it may be Sol is in the heart of our territory. And the boldest Romulan attack was half a quadrant away. Do we really need to devote more resources there while our border facilities are kept barely safe?"  
After Evek had finished his speech the whole of the delegation's attention suddenly turned to where the three powers were seated. They were curious as to how they would respond, or more to the point how B'elanna would respond. She glanced over at Worf for a moment before she stood to meet the Cardassians's challenge.  
"I think you failed to stress just how important the Sol system is, Evek. As all of you have probably forgotten from time to time. The Utopia Planitia Shipyards work on anywhere from eighteen to twenty-six vessels a day; and that's just repair work. Were you to factor in the division spent on construction of new vessels and it makes it the most important shipyard, second only to the Bajoran one of Kendra Alpha."  
"Next in the system is the research station in orbit of Jupiter. Sure Q'osk V may have been given an important objective but where do you think the designs of the Jach'eng prototype came from? Where do you think any of our recent developments for the past five years has come from? Nearly all of them came from Jupiter Station and I think the Romulans would have won long ago had we been without that facility."  
"Finally there's the mining in the system's asteroid belt. The minerals mined there are responsible for creating the bulkhead and ship plating that is so needed for your fleets. That may not be the Alliance's biggest mining operation but it does add value to the system as a whole, making it one of our most precious resources. Sure the Romulans have never attacked there, but that is because we keep it fortified. It makes the system too big of a risk. Were we to take away any part of the system's defense then all we would be doing is inviting an attack. Do any of you want to spend our next meeting squabbling of why we lost Sol to our enemy? Because we might be feeling strain from losing places like Q'osk V or the Galgathon Shipyards or even Kelnok Nor but if we were to lose our position in the Sol system we might as well surrender."  
"Ok you've just reaffirmed the importance of Sol, B'elanna. Evek has a point in that it seems wasteful to station so many vessels in a seemingly secure sector but his point is moot. Yes, we have lost a lot recently to the Romulans, but are we delegates to blame? Maybe we haven't supplied the stations with the resources they need to properly defend themselves but I think the captains of the vessels we do send there are to blame." At Kira's bold blaming of the soldier's everyone's attention abruptly shifted to her. Being the representative leaders of their worlds blame was always cast upon them when things went awry. None of the incompetence had ever been placed solely on the shoulders of the soldiers.  
"And what would the Bajoran Intendant know of field combat? I'm sure it must be awfully easy for you to judge the performance of our soldiers from your cushy office on Terrok Nor."  
"You wound me with your words Rakln. I may not be a strategic expert like you but I do know when certain officers should be questioned." She paused for a moment and inwardly smiled as she could feel anger rise up from not only General Rakln but several of the other military delegates as well. It pleased her that she could so affect attitudes with mere words. They were playing right into her hand.  
"Even the most elite of our officers seem to have lost their edge as of late. I would like to strengthen my point with the mentioning of the so called Alliance Royal Armada, created and hand-picked by the Regent himself."  
"What of them?" Worf said with a hint of agitation in his voice.  
"What of them indeed my dear Regent. The vessels that make up the ARA task force are supposed to be the best and most elite vessels crewed by our finest. They are also supposed to act as our first and foremost strength against the Romulan threat. But what good have they done? Since their conception just more then a year ago two of them have been lost in combat. A third one seems to be running under its own jurisdiction," her gaze floated over to the Ferengi delegation for a moment in case anyone was wondering which vessel she was referring to. "And yet another one has lost its captain when he was reassigned to a priority mission. The others? Well how much good have the others been? How helpful has the Sompek been, or the Alvex? Exactly why were they assigned this task force in the first place?"  
With that Worf ominously rose from his chair. He looked at the Bajoran Intendant, a look that told her to be silent for a moment, before he spoke to the assembled delegation once more. "It may not seem apparent why I created the task force known as the Alliance Royal Armada but they do serve a purpose. Having our best officers pooling their talents on our finest vessels has provided a benefit to the Alliance. They may not have a polished record but they have been helpful in a number of operations. Were it not for them then the Romulans would still have a large supply cache on Dysis, and with the destruction of the shipyards at Valkor IV the ARA vessels helped to slow down the Romulans production of vessels. And let us not dare to forget the sacrifice made by the crew of the Maq'Tau, who died to stop the Romulans new prototype vessel."  
"They've had a few great accomplishments, that's nothing to celebrate for is it? From my standpoint they only did what they were supposed to be doing. And none of the successes that you're praising has done us much good, aside from the Maq'Tau's. Which one of my best advisor's was lost on when the Maq'Tau was destroyed. We have lost valued officers in the service of ARA. Zelbreghn, Terplak, and then of course Koltarn. How many more must be lost I ask you?"  
At the mentioning of Koltarn's name Worf gritted his teeth. The questioning of his integrity from earlier was still fresh in his mind, and with the mentioning of it from Kira it nearly infuriated him. Instead though he just breathed a deep breath and prepared to respond to the Intendant's questions. "There have been valued officers lost in the service of all task forces Intendant, not just ARA. You make it sound as though that is the only group to have suffered casualties in this war."  
"I only meant..." she started but stopped herself. Her words had betrayed her in that instant and she felt that to press any further would only belittle her position.  
"The death toll will only go down when we rid ourselves of the Romulan threat for good. Instead of bickering and fighting amongst ourselves we need to strengthen our resolve against them, not each other. Only together will we be able to stand our own demise in the face and turn it away. These questions and doubts may be important but in the picture of the war as a whole they are immaterial. The Romulans have stepped up their resolve against us and if we don't begin to fully trust each other and put everything aside in a truly united front against them then surely we will fall in death, lest we live to see the heel of a Romulan boot brought down upon all our worlds." As Worf finished he looked over the delegates faces, hoping that his words had effected them enough to encourage them to fight off their doubts and turn that energy against the Romulans. He knew that only then would they be able to end the war in victory.  
From somewhere inside the cavernous room the sound of hands clapping could be heard. Everyone paused for a moment and looked around to try and identify the source. Then a figure appeared from one of the hallways and walked into the middle. He was followed in by a shorter figure who had the signs of a limp. Once his companion had joined him the figure looked up from the ground and looked over the delegates before resting on the Regent. The figure was a Cardassian; it was Gul Duren.  
"Excellent speech Regent, quite moving indeed." he addressed Worf with a smug tone befitting a Cardassian.  
"What is the meaning of this?" Worf demanded of the Cardassian gul.  
"I'll explain the meaning Regent, have no fear of that. First let me introduce myself, in case not everyone here knows me. I am Gul Duren of the Cardassian Galor class vessel Alvex. Delegates, I stand before you to bring light on something which gravely troubles our war effort and thusly our very Alliance itself." A few whispers could be heard about the gul's sudden entrance and the words he had already dealt. He smiled inwardly before continuing.  
"The Regent is right. Surely if we are to survive the Romulan onslaught then we must do so standing together. There is a word he mentioned, and has been tossed around for some time now. That word is trust. I know it can be very difficult to trust people whose very way of life is different from our own. It can be done though. Take me for example. A proud and noble Cardassian who did not give into trusting the other members of this alliance so easily. Yet I stand before you today with someone who has earned a very large amount of trust from me. As you can tell he is not Cardassian, but I can say with the utmost conviction that Tierzak here has just as much trust and respect then any of my fellow Cardassians have received from me."  
The delegates' attention suddenly turned to the man standing beside Duren. It was indeed Daimon Tierzak, another commanding officer in the ARA task force. He appeared to be holding the same stance as Duren and yet somehow it was different. After a moments pause he nodded and Duren continued.  
"Together we have uncovered something dreadful that has hidden itself in the midst of our precious Alliance. From what I have heard so far everyone has a sole question in the back of their mind, even if they haven't voiced it. Everyone is wondering how as of late the Romulans have been able to best us at every turn. Q'osk V, the Galgathon Shipyards, Kelnok Nor, these are only the most notable of our losses. After years of a stalemate is it truly possible that they have somehow gained an advantage so suddenly on their own? To me I simply cannot believe such a thing to be possible. Only one thing remains in my mind no matter how many times I go over it. They must be getting help. Someone in the Alliance must be slipping them information that has allowed them to gain the upper hand."  
Worf let out a sigh. He was tired of all this mentioning of shadow play and double talk. "Yes Duren you bring up a point which has been thoroughly discussed. How much must we beat the topic of loyalties and allegiances before everyone is satisfied? Everyone is so eager to point fingers at each other and blame them for aiding the Romulans, but do any have proof to back their claims? No. So in the end those that toss around such claims aren't helping to strengthen the Alliance by exposing a traitor, but weakening it by turning everyone against each other. In the grand scheme of the war they are actually aiding the Romulans themselves by weakening our resolve against a single, common enemy."  
"Ah but we did not come here with hollow claims Regent." As he stood there it was apparent that Duren had not lost any of his resolve in the matter. He appeared as smug and in control as he did when he had first entered the room.  
"Both Duren and I knew that convincing the assembled delegates of who had betrayed us would not be an easy one," Tierzak suddenly spoke up with his high nasal voice. "We knew that for any of our claims to stand strong we would need solid proof to back up any words we spoke. Using our own resolve and ingenuity I believe we have found just the proof we need."  
As Tierzak's words ended yet two more figures appeared in the entrance where Duren and Tierzak had come from only moment's before. Like the previous two the figures made their way across the room to stand in its center. One was a man not unlike Duren, while the other was a slender looking girl. Both were Cardassian and were immediately recognized.  
"He has no place here!" shouted out the normally silent Cardassian delegate Enabrain Tain. His sudden outburst at Dukat's appearance shocked all of the assembled delegates and now each one devoted his or her full attention at what was taking place. "I will not hear the words of a traitor!"  
"A traitor? For having an illegitimate daughter you brandish me a traitor? Why if half the stuff you have done were made public..." Dukat started but was suddenly silenced by a look from Duren. This was not the time to further the private little war between himself and Tain. No, today he had larger concerns.  
"Why don't we hear what he has to say Tain? I mean are you so self involved that you won't listen to a man's words just because you don't personally like him?" As Kira spoke Tain glared over at her with a look at disgust. This too came as a surprise. Not the fact that Tain would react so badly to Kira's words but that her words would be so in favor of a Cardassian, let alone Dukat.  
"With the help of Dukat and his daughter Ziyal Duren and I have been able to piece together enough information to not only reaffirm our position on who the traitor is but also enough information to prove that they are in fact not all that they claim to be."  
Having heard enough of everyone's words B'elanna decided it was once again time to throw her two cents into the discussion. "Both of you have tossed around the word traitor and claimed that you have convicting evidence but there is one thing you have yet to reveal. Who exactly is it that you are condemning as a traitor?"  
"Overseer Seven." Duren responded as he finally let his hidden grin flash for all to see.  
As Duren revealed the would be traitor before the assembled delegate they all felt a wave of shock as suddenly every pair of eyes present were laid upon the Terran Overseer. Hit hardest of all by the news was B'elanna who despite their previous argument had remained on of Seven's closet friends. She slowly turned as she stared at Seven who seemed unaffected by the accusation.  
With the entire room's attention on her Seven began to feel very uncomfortable, but she dared not show it. In the back of her mind she felt a touch confused but mostly panic at the accusation. She knew that being Terran made her integrity automatically questioned by everyone, if even by the slightest amount. Without letting any emotion show she rose from her seat and ignored the gazes from around the room. Knowing that showing anything but serenity would most likely doom her she looked down at Duren and prepared to face down her accuser. "You say I am a traitor Duren? You say that somehow the fault of the Romulan's sudden aggression bears on my shoulder? Well I certainly hope that your so called proof can back up your accusations."  
"Rest assured that it does Overseer." Duren stared back at the smug Terran, hating how coolly she appeared. She wouldn't be able to hold that attitude for long though, Duren would make sure of it. "Ziyal, if you please," he said turning to the girl.  
Standing there nervous by so many people present with so much depending on her telling her story. It was the truth though and in the end doesn't the truth always set you free? After taking a deep breathe she began her tale. "Three years ago I was working for Kai Winn; the spiritual leader of Bajor. As everyone knows she was murdered in her office and the blame of her death was placed on me. I am here today to tell you that blame was wrongly placed. The blame should have been placed on Seven. She was the one who assassinated the kai. I was just caught up in a separate matter and used as a scapegoat."  
"And where is the proof of this?" asked the stalwart Breen general.  
"I have obtained copies of the security tapes from Kai Winn's office on the day in question. On the tapes it clearly shows that it was Seven who killed the kai, where as this poor girl Ziyal was no where near the office when the murder took place."  
"So what if she did kill the kai three years ago? The way I see it that has nothing to do with what is going on in our war against the Romulans." Martok burst out.  
"It may not concern you, general, but to me and my people this is a startling discovery. If it is indeed true that Seven is responsible for the murder of our beloved Kai Winn then surely something must be done about it."  
"And what do you care of the death of Winn, Kira? It is common knowledge that you and the kai despised each other. I wouldn't be surprised if you played a hand in her assassination yourself!"  
"Now my dear B'elanna let us try not to stray from the topic at hand. It is true that Kai Winn and I did not have an ideal relationship, but I would never resort to hiring an assassin. Let alone a Terran one. I will admit that her death did not impact me so much in itself but the impact it left on my people was surely something I couldn't ignore. This whole time we have believed that Ziyal was the cause of Winn's death. If we were wrong in our belief then surely don't we have a right to know?"  
"You do indeed have that right Intendant. As indeed do all Alliance citizens have that right. That is why Tierzak and I have painstakingly gathered our proof. So that once and for all everyone can know the truth behind Kai Winn's assassination."  
"My question stands unanswered Duren. What does the three year old assassination of a Bajoran spiritual leader have to do with the Romulan war?"  
"Martok is right. What does it have to do with the war? Well I can assure you that this accusation is just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Tierzak and I have other data which brings Seven's integrity further into doubt. While the evidence surrounding the kai's assassination is the most condemning it does help to bring about questioning of Seven. For if she did indeed kill Kai Winn then who's to say she didn't play a part in anyone else's murder? Duras for example..."  
"Enough Duren!" With the mentioning of his fallen friend Worf had grown agitated beyond reason at the Cardassian who so arrogantly pointed his finger around.  
"Of course Regent Worf," Duren said with a slight bow of his head. "I believe I have made my case. Now if I may ask, what is to be done on this matter?"  
"We will call for a vote," Worf said as he began to calm down. "Each delegation will be given the chance to pursue the matter or to move on. First, the Klingon delegation will cast their vote."  
Martok rose from his seat and looked around the room at everyone assembled, but mostly at Seven. "The Klingon delegation votes to forget the matter on grounds that it is irrelevant." Several other members rose their voice in objection but were quickly silenced.  
The next to cast their vote was the Breen delegation, to which Rakln spoke for. "The Breen delegation votes to pursue the matter. We feel it necessary to know whether or not the second most powerful figure in the Alliance can be trusted."  
As Rakln finished voicing his reason Kira rose to speak on behalf of the Bajoran delegation. "I of course vote to pursue the matter. The people of Bajor need to know what really happened to their kai."  
After Kira cast the Bajoran vote the slender Detapa Council leader Natima Lang rose. While she had not voiced her opinion on anything during the meeting thus far she was the Cardassian's offical representative leader. Having people like Evek and Tain along with her had made it unnecessary for her to so outright respond to much, but when the time came she always rose to the challenge. "The Cardassian delegation votes to move on. We will not be persuaded by the words of a traitor, or his daughter." Dukat tossed a harsh look at Natima to which she responded by the smoothening of her outfit as she sat down.  
Last to cast their vote was the silent Ferengi delegation. Throughout the entire assembly not a single noise had come from their corner of the theater-like room. Everyone else had virtually forgotten there was even a Ferengi presence there aside for Tierzak. Slowly the wrinkly Ferengi leader Zek rose, having to use his staff for support. He wetted his lips for a moment before he spoke. "The Ferengi delegation votes to," he started in his high nasal voice, "pursue the matter. Like the Breen and everyone else we need to know who we can rely on against the Romulans."  
The vote was three to two against her. Seven sunk back in her chair for a moment but then sat back up. She wouldn't let the days events wear her down in the slightest. So they would pursue the matter of her integrity. In the end did it really make a difference whether they had ignored this particular matter or not? She was a Terran, and her integrity was always in question. It was a necessary of life that she had grown accustomed to. She knew this was merely another storm she had to withstand. And when that storm passed she would still be standing, this she vowed.  
"Very well then, we will pursue the matter." Worf said as he took the scene in one final time as he had done earlier. This time it was different though. The beauty the place had held earlier looked somehow diminished after the events he had been forced through over the course of the day. Those events he hoped to lay to rest quickly so that he could once more remove his politician's garb and return to the soldier's one he so craved. "This council will adjourn for two days. During this time Duren and Tierzak will provide copies of all of the proof they have gathered so that it may fully be reviewed by every delegation. Once that is completed will shall reassemble to asses its validity and whether or not Seven is to be accused of treason against the state. I now declare this session to be dismissed." With that the young Klingon officer from before returned, once more rang the Bell of Tarqluin, and then the various delegations began to file out of the meeting hall. 


	13. Rescues and Revelations

_Chapter Thirteen: Rescues and Revelations_

Mission  
As the Alliance leaders argue and point fingers of mistrust at each other on Narendra III one of ARA's commanding officers departs on a secret mission to uncover some truth and find a missing comrade.  
Mission Date:  
112th day in the 2369th of Molar

Looking around the room he made a quick mental check of what he would need. On one table lay a phaser rifle and a trusty dk'tahg that he was certain he would need for his plan to be a success. Placed on the other table was an assortment of gear for survival and stealth. The thought of having to sneak around like a treacherous Romulan made him sneer for a moment. But what other alternative did he have? When left between the option of stealth and success or aggression and failure he reluctantly had to side with stealth. This mission was too important to him, too important to the Alliance he believed, to not be completed. After checking over everything once more Mulkrit picked up a glass of bloodwine and took a sip before exiting the storage room.

As he walked down the hallway only a couple of officers passed by him. He knew that K'Vort class bird-of-prey vessels had a small crew, but he had grown used to the large crew size and crowded hallways he commanded aboard the Sompek. The hallways he traveled down now seemed empty and it gave the ship an almost ghost-like feel to Mulkrit. He just paused for a moment and shrugged off the feeling before he continued his way towards Rah'q's quarters.

It was several weeks ago that Mulkrit had learned the information that had sent him on this suicidal quest. He hadn't taken it as truth first, which would have been the same move that any would have taken, yet he hadn't forgotten it earlier. With everyone in the Alliance having their attention turned onto the world of Narendra III Mulkrit had taken the opportunity to try and see just how much stock the information had. His first move had been to contact Rah'q, the new commanding officer of the Kor'Jaq, and tell him of the information. The Klingon officer had been skeptical at first, but eventually had chosen to risk things on the chance that Mulkrit's information was genuine. Now here they both were, daring death to take them on the off chance that they would be right.

As Mulkrit reached the door to Rah'q's quarters he paused for a moment and thought about what he was about to do, and what he should tell Rah'q in the meantime. The solider left in command of the Kor'Jaq was an honorable one, yet he didn't quite seem worthy of his title for some reason. Perhaps it was the way in which he had earned that title which made other Klingons cringe. But it wasn't Rah'q's fault; he was merely trying to adjust to the cards he had been dealt. For that no one could think critically of him. Putting any thoughts aside Mulkrit reached forward and hit the call button next to Rah'q's door.

"Yes?" came Rah'q's voice from inside the room.

"It's Mulkrit. I thought we could share a drink before we got to the Carraya system."

"Enter," was all Rah'q said in response.

As Mulkrit stepped inside the first thing he noticed about the quarters was its size. He had to remind himself again that everything aboard was smaller in comparison to what he was accustomed to on the Sompek. The other thing he noticed was how bright the lighting was. True it was no brighter than any other room on the ship, but he had also grown accustomed to a room lit only by candlelight. Despite some time since losing T'Jal Mulkrit had refused to put an end to his vigil. He wasn't sure why but he just wasn't ready to yet, and so the candles stayed lit.

"Sit down," Rah'q said as he looked over to see Mulkrit enter the room. He was on his knees on a ceremonial banner. "I was just saying a prayer for the honored dead."

"I didn't interrupt you did I, Rah'q?" Mulkrit said, hoping his intrusion hadn't bothered the warrior.

"Not at all. I was just finishing." A moment later Rah'q got up off the floor and walked over to where Mulkrit had seated himself. He outstretched his hand and Mulkrit handed over a bottle of bloodwine to him. "'64'?" he said questionly as he looked at the bottle's label. "Isn't it a little too fresh to be drinking?"

"It doesn't quite have to same kick to it, but I drink it nonetheless. With supply lines stretched thin we can't afford to be choosey about what we drink anymore."

To this Rah'q replied with gruff discontent before he walked over to a small table set in one corner. There he had a few glasses stored and he slowly started to poor bloodwine into one as he looked back at Mulkrit. "So what are you doing here Mulkrit? I figured you'd still be in the cargo bay."

"Everything has been checked over twice. It won't get any less ready if I neglect to check it again. Besides, I thought you might want to help me polish off this bottle before we get to the Carraya system."

"You didn't come all the way down here just to share this with me Mulkrit." As Rah'q finished pouring his glass he made his way across the room and took a seat across from Mulkrit. After taking a sip he continued. "Are you beginning to doubt your information?"

Looking over his glass Mulkrit sat there for a moment and thought over the question. "Believing the information is a bit of a gamble, I'll admit, but doesn't the rescue of such a person outweigh that gamble?"

"Of course it does. The rescue of any soldier is an honorable task, but I can't see how this case is anything more than a trap."

"How so?" Mulkrit asked with curiosity.

"Think about it. First of all it's hard to believe that the Romulans would keep such a high-ranking prisoner alive. If it were me I would have him killed the moment I was through interrogating him."

"Maybe so, but the Romulans don't think like us. They enjoy forcing honorable warriors to slowly waste away in their prison camps. It causes a demoralizing harm to our ranks and the Romulans know it."

"Yes, the Romulans are a race of honor less pa'tahqs. Still though, even if they did keep him alive after interrogating him, why send him to Carraya IV? The Carraya system is just inside of their border and from what I know is completely defenseless. I mean, it's only three hours from Terok Nor, one of our major bases of operation. How much sense would it be for them to put such a person so close to our reach?"

"I agree with you Rah'q, it doesn't make sense. That is exactly why I think the Romulans put him there." Mulkrit's statement left Rah'q so confused that he couldn't hide the fact even if he had wanted to. To help clear things up Mulkrit went on. "Think about it Rah'q. The Romulans are known for their stealth and covert tactics. So, knowing how a Romulan thinks, wouldn't it make sense for them to hide something we want right under our own noses? I mean the very notion seems crazy to us that there would be a prison camp on the border. Don't you think it's possible they would put one in the Carraya system because they would think it would come off as such a tactical error that we would dismiss it?"

"It's possible, but I still don't believe it's true."

"For Koltarn, I'll take that risk." Mulkrit said with a finality.

"So will I."

The remainder of the time spent in Rah'q's quarters was almost a dead silence. The two Klingon commanders talked briefly about the status of the war and recounted some of the more glorious battles they had been in, but neither spoke of Koltarn or the Carraya system again. Being a short journey from Kendra Alpha the time the two commanders had to spend recounting tales didn't last for long. Just as they sipped down the last of the bloodwine and started to ease back into their chairs a young officer came over the intercom to inform them that they had arrived in the Carraya system.

"Ready?" Rah'q asked Mulkrit.

"Ready to infiltrate a Romulan prison camp, kill the contingent of guards, and free all the Alliance prisoners?" Mulkrit asked looking at Rah'q for a moment. He then showed a slight grin and simply said, "Of course."

Once the two left Rah'q's quarters they entered into the nearest turbolift. There was a nervous silence between them and neither spoke until the turbolift slowed to a stop and opened onto the bridge. "Sensor report," Rah'q ordered as he took a step off the lift and onto the bridge.

"Sensors show Carraya IV to be a jungle world," a Klingon lieutenant manning the sensor station reported.

As Rah'q took his seat he made an effort to keep his frustration at bay. He already knew the environment on the planet. What he had meant by his question was something else entirely. Calming down a bit he decided to rephrase his question. "Do you detect any enemy presence in the system?"

"I'm not reading any Romulan vessels in the system, sir."

"What about on the planet?"

The young lieutenant looked over his console for a moment before responding. "I'm not reading any humanoid life on the planet either. Nothing but some scattered jungle wildlife."

Rah'q took this information in and waved Mulkrit over. "Are you sure this is where the Romulan prison camp is?"

"This is where my source said the prison was."

Leaning forward in his chair Rah'q rubbed his chin for a moment in thought before another possibility came to his mind. "Lieutenant, could the Romulans use a cloaking device to hide the prison from our sensors?"

"It's possible sir," the officer said with wavering hesitation, "but for them to be using a cloaking generator to hide something that large would give off some sort of visible distortions; of which I'm picking up none."

"It's down there," Mulkrit said with an odd certainty. "You have to let me go have a look. If for some reason there is no prison camp down there then it will do no harm anyway."

Rah'q went over everything in his mind as he looked at Mulkrit. Something about the whole situation just didn't add up in Rah'q's mind. Everything from the information about the missing Koltarn that Mulkrit had somehow obtained, to his request of using the Kor'Jaq covertly to go to the Carraya system, and now the lack of any sign of Romulans in the system. Being in Romulan space made the hairs on the back of Rah'q's neck prick with anticipation of an attack, but as he looked at Mulkrit something else rang in his mind. That something was the importance of the rescue of an Alliance officer as valued as Koltarn that Mulkrit had emphasized when he first came to Rah'q. "Okay," Rah'q said to Mulkrit almost reluctantly. "Go and gear up and meet me in the transporter room in fifteen minutes."

With Rah'q's go ahead Mulkrit turned around and exited the bridge. As the turbolift took him back down to the storage room where he had left his stuff he went over in his mind a few things. If the task before him turned out to be real then it would surely be a challenge. He didn't know exactly what he would encounter at the prison camp, and even though signs pointed to only a minimal threat he didn't think for even a moment about easing his resolve. Deep in his mind he readied himself for whatever awaited him on the planet. He wouldn't allow himself to walk away without accomplishing this mission. Koltarn was important and Mulkrit would do everything in his power that he could to see that Koltarn came home safely.

Mulkrit spent only a brief moment in the storage room to gather his equipment before he rushed himself to the transporter room. He was anxious to get down to the surface, but more so he was anxious to be able to put the mission behind him and enjoy the luxuries of victory that he hoped he would receive. With that he hurried into the transporter room, nearly beating Rah'q in the process, before dropping his equipment onto the transporter pad.

"I'll keep the Kor'Jaq in orbit of the Carrayan sun for the next five days. If for some reason you don't contact us by then I'll have to leave you behind."

"I understand," Mulkrit said as he stepped onto the transporter pad.

"Q'apla!" Rah'q said to Mulkrit before giving a nod to the transporter chief. A moment later Mulkrit disappeared in a shimmer of light and particles.

As the scene changed from the Kor'Jaq's transporter room to the jungle on Carraya IV Mulkrit readied his mind as best he could. Once the transport cycle was complete his hand instantly went to rest on a disruptor that he had strapped to his thigh. Looking around at his surroundings Mulkrit took a moment before he felt sure that everything was clear and he slowly moved his hand off of his weapon. Turning around he saw the small crate that contained his gear and he carefully opened it.

Inside were only a few bare essentials that Mulkrit had deemed absolutely necessary. The first thing he grabbed was the dk'tahg blade, which he slipped into his boot. Second, he grabbed a small round disk and tapped on it once. A slight beep noise came from it and satisfied at it he stuffed it just inside of his uniform. All that was left in the crate was some food rations and a tricorder. Picking up the tricorder he flipped it on and moved it around a little to check and see if it was working. Hopefully he would be able to use it to find the prison and maybe even come up with a general map once he did so. After taking out the food rations Mulkrit pushed the crate into a nearby bush to hide it, just in case.

The Carrayan sun shone brightly in the sky and as Mulkrit looked at it through the plant life he reasoned that it was probably midday. Not having much of an idea about what the geography of the planet consisted of, other than jungle; Mulkrit didn't have a clue as to where the Romulans might hide the prison camp. For a moment a whisper in his head told him that there was no prison and that the whole trip had been in vain. There was something else inside him though that didn't believe the whisper could possibly be true. After standing there for a moment and getting his bearings he did the only thing that came to mind; he picked a direction at random and began to walk.

As he walked on the first thing he noticed was how warm the planet was; or maybe he just thought it was warm. Being midday the sun beat down and the lush vegetation made the air moist with humidity. Sweat began to collect on his brow as he made his way through the jungle. Still being in the heavy leather clad Klingon uniform seemed to make conditions worse, but he continued to trudge through without giving any sign that he was bothered. There was a certain sense of pride he had when he wore his uniform and despite recent events he wasn't about to let anything take that away from him.

One thing that Mulkrit thought was odd was that he saw no sign of any wildlife, aside from the usual annoyances by local insects. On occasion he heard the squawk of a bird or something rustle in a nearby bush, but he didn't see anything. For a moment he wondered why, but he didn't give it much thought. As long as the rustling wasn't a Romulan soldier sneaking up on him he could care less about what was causing the noise.

Some time later Mulkrit found a small spring. Easing back against a rock he took the opportunity for a small break. Reaching inside of his uniform he pulled out a ration pack and opened it. Instantly a foul smell came to his nose and it seemed like something had died long ago inside. With a slight shrug Mulkrit downed the packet's contents and cupped some water from the spring and took a drink. After he relaxed for a moment he fished out the tricorder and took a look at it. Disappointment came to him as still the small device showed no sign of anything aside from more trees. He knew that the prison had to be nearby, but with no clue as to where he became a little frustrated. The thought of breaking into a prison and helping Koltarn to escape seemed to be a big enough challenge. But if he couldn't even find the place then what was the point?

A brief while later he began to move again with a renewed energy. His small break at the spring seemed to be a great help to him, but he wasn't about to make a habit out of it. He needed to find the prison as quickly as possible and come up with a plan of rescue. Only five days were given to him to complete this mission and were he to run into some difficulty then he knew he would need as much time as he could get, or else not be able to finish it at all.

Mulkrit continued to walk on and ignored any sign of hunger or exhaustion that crept its way into his body. The sun was sinking behind the tree line and darkness was starting to fall on the planet. He then gave a passing thought to shelter for the night, but he knew that rest was still hours away so he ignored that as well. With twilight creeping up on the jungle the sounds from all about him began to multiply. As he looked about he wondered what kind or animals lay in wait, and more importantly what kind of predators were lurking just within shadow's reach. In that instant he wished he would have spent a little less time drinking on the trip here and a little more time on learning about the planet. Even so he didn't let it bother him to much as Carraya IV was a Romulan planet and thus little was known about it.

For some reason his mind began to wonder then about how much further he should go on before stopping for the night. His body welcomed the chance for food and relaxation, but his mind argued the point away. The scenery around him hadn't really changed at all, and his body tried to convince him that the lush jungle would still be the same whether he rested or not. If it hadn't been for his tricorder he might have thought that he had gone in a big circle, since every step he took seemed to take him no where except into more of the same. He thought for a moment about taking another small break, but something refused to let him. That something seemed to whisper him to go just a little further, and a little further after that. It seemed also to promise that only a few more meters and something important would be revealed to him. He had just about given up taking those few more steps and resting when suddenly the trees before him began to thin.

Wondering only for a moment what might be just past the trees he summoned a little more energy and sprinted towards the tree line. When he finally made it through the trees a small grin came across his face as a knoll came into sight. So far he had seen nothing but the same flat, tree covered ground. Even though there was nothing of importance on the knoll the change in scenery was still a happy welcome to him. With a renewed spirit Mulkrit climbed to the top of the knoll to gaze at the sun as it made its final descent behind the horizon. As he looked out at the orange tinted sky he felt himself relax and part of his tension fall away. This relaxing moment passed by quickly though as he looked down from the horizon to gaze at what was just beyond the knoll. Tucked into a small basin just below his feet he saw a number of small buildings surrounded by a layered wall.

Immediately Mulkrit dropped down and laid on his stomach as he looked at the prison camp below. He wondered for a moment what it was doing there, so close to him, but that wonder was quickly pushed aside. Reaching into his uniform he pulled out his tricorder and a pair of binoculars that he had tucked away. Looking at the small device he just shook his head in confusement as nothing showed up. For some reason the camp wasn't being picked up on the tricorder. That fact didn't hold his attention for very long. The fact that he focused on was that despite his readings he had found the prison camp. Now that his search had ended it was time to try and come up with a plan to get in and out gain as little attention as possible.

Looking down on the camp he brought the binoculars to his eyes to try and get a better look at what made up the prison. The first thing he looked for was some sort of gate that allowed access into and out of the compound, he couldn't find anything though. For the moment he assumed the gate was located in one of the parts of the compound that had now turned dark in shadow as the sun fell from view.

From there he made a sweeping gaze around the compound to try and determine how many guards were out and where they were stationed. Right off the bat he eyed two Romulan sentries who were patrolling up and down the top of the compound's wall. He noticed another pair standing near a larger building talking about something. Mulkrit thought that only those four were on guard, but a flicker of movement caught his eye and he spotted a fifth guard move just out of a shadow on the opposite side of the compound as the other two. Only five guards? That didn't seem to be enough for a prison compound of that size, which apparently held some of the Alliance's best soldiers. He wondered if there were more in hiding that he just couldn't see. Or maybe there was only a handful because night was creeping up on them and they didn't feel it necessary to station a large contingent of soldiers around during the dead of night. Whatever the case may be Mulkrit knew he had to think of a way in and out as quickly and silently as possible.

With what information he had Mulkrit tried to come up with some sure fire plan of accomplishing his goals. Since he didn't know where the compound's gate was that option was scrapped. Even if he did though, walking in through the front door wasn't a smart idea. In his mind he then tried to come up with an alternate route of entry into the compound and went over all the pros and cons of each route. He finally decided to try and scale the wall nearest to the largest building, which to him seemed the ideal place for the prisoners to be held. From there he intended to find some sort of air duct to use to sneak into the building itself and try to recon it as best as possible.

Looking back towards the horizon Mulkrit noticed how low in the sky the sun now was. He decided to wait a few hours before trying any sort of entrance into the compound, hoping that by then the on-duty guards would be too fatigued to pick up on him were he to slip up.

The void of time spent before Mulkrit's attempt at entry was a boring one that seemed to drag on. He opened another packet of rations and almost didn't eat them when he realized there was no spring nearby to quench his thirst. His stomach convinced him otherwise though and he ate the tasteless field rations with only a slight cringe. After that he set about to finding some vines or something that would help him to get over the wall. Luckily for him the local vegetation had just what he would need in abundance and he collected and strung together a sturdy rope in no time. In his last hour before leaving the knoll's safety behind he just laid there and studied the compound through the binoculars. Nothing seemed to change within the compound and once he felt confident enough about his chances he started to make his way down into the basin.

Taking the journey downward as slow as possible he crept towards the compound. He was easily fifty yards away from the compound and yet he still felt the need to be as stealthy as he could. Paranoia seemed to be a necessity in the life of a soldier, especially in instances like the one Mulkrit was facing. Sticking low to the ground he made his way around the outer perimeter of the compound, hugging the ridgeline the whole way around. Once he got to a point directly behind where he wanted to scale the compound's walls Mulkrit hesitated for a moment and looked around out of instinct before deciding to leave what little safety the ridgeline provided and make his way towards the compound's wall.

The moment he reached the wall he looked up to its top. Standing next to it the wall seemed to be twice as tall as it had appeared from his vantage point on top of the knoll. Taking in a deep breath he removed the makeshift rope from off of his shoulder and gripped it firmly in his right hand. He had tied a rock to one end of the rope and was hoping that would be enough to allow him to scale the wall. Swinging the rope a couple of times he finally released the one end and to his relief it sailed over the wall and he heard a small thud come from just beyond the wall. Giving it a quick tug to determine its strength he nodded to himself in approval before he slowly began to climb up the wall.

Once he had scaled the wall Mulkrit jumped down from the top of the ten-foot barrier and rolled as his body made a thud on the ground. When his body stopped moving he picked himself up off of the ground and brushed off his uniform of any dirt that had collected on it. He then took a quick moment to check out both his body and his equipment to make certain neither were broken. Satisfied, he crept over to the building and hugged himself against it to make certain that none of the guards would spot him.

Against the building's wall he began to run his hands and his eyes over the surface to try and find some means of entry into the building. Unfortunately there was nothing. He sighed as he knew what that meant. It meant that he would have to go in through the front door. It meant sneaking past the two guards, and hopefully not being detected.

Crouching low to the ground Mulkrit began to sneak around the building and make his way to its front. The building, like the wall, was a lot larger up close then what it had been from further away. It was the size of a gymnasium and while it wasn't too large it seemed to be more so because of the fact that Mulkrit had to move around it so slowly. Finally to his relief he made it around the first corner, but that relief faded by quickly when he saw how much farther he had to go. As quickly as stealth would allow he made his way along the second wall and he had to let himself lean back to relax as he stopped at the last corner before reaching the front of the complex.

Peering around the corner Mulkrit once again spotted the two Romulan guards as they stood in front of the building's entrance. They seemed lost in whatever they were discussing and gave off the impression of being totally oblivious to their surroundings. For a moment Mulkrit thought he might be able to sneak past the two guards without any effort, but he quickly shoved that idea out of his mind. The pair of guards, while oblivious, were just standing a foot in front of the door and he doubted they were that inept. Grabbing the makeshift rope he carefully untied the rock from the one end as an idea came to him. Easing around the corner he pulled his arm back and then tossed the rock sailing over the two guards heads.

As the rock landed with a soft thud a distance away from the two guards their attention was suddenly caught. Immediately they stopped talking and looked over in the direction to where the rock had landed. A few more words were exchanged between the two and to Mulkrit's dismay only one of them started in the direction where the thud had come from. In his mind he quickly rationalized that one guard was easier to take out than two and he began to make his way to the guard that was left remaining. Closing on the guard he readied himself and with the other one still in sight he crept up on the guard silently. When he was on him Mulkrit leapt forward and place his left arm across the guard's chest and his right hand over the guard's mouth. The guard's body seized with shock, but it didn't last for very long as Mulkrit quickly jerked his right hand and he heard a sharp snap before the Romulan's body went limp in his arms.

After he dragged the Romulan's body around the corner he snuck back to the entrance. The other Romulan guard seemed to have forgotten the conversation he was having before Mulkrit's distraction because he had made his way across the compound to one of the other guards that was patrolling around. Ignoring him now Mulkrit peered into a small window on the building's door. Seeing nothing but an empty and dimly lit hallway the Klingon soldier slowly opened the door and slipped inside.

Letting his eyes adjust Mulkrit gave an inward smile as he saw what was clearly a holding area for prisoners. Before him was a long hallway with a number of doors placed down both sides. With a small window cut into each door Mulkrit began looking into each cell for Koltarn.

The first pair of cells that Mulkrit peered into were empty. He thought of that to be strange for a moment, but decided not to waste any time on it. In the next cell he found a Cardassian soldier asleep on a cot. For a moment he wondered who the soldier was, but he quickly shoved that out of his mind as well. His main goal was to free Koltarn. If he could he would free everyone else, but not before him. The following cells provided a variety of prisoners ranging from Cardassians to Ferengi to even a Yridian and a Bajoran. Two of the cells raised his expectations as they held Klingon soldiers in them, but neither one appeared to be Koltarn. It wasn't until Mulkrit was nearly all the way down the hallway did he find a cell with a Klingon leaning against a wall on the floor. For a moment Mulkrit stood there looking at the soldier, making sure his eyes were right. Once he felt certain he opened the cell door and made his way in. As he approached the tired and worn down soldier he knelt down. Mulkrit placed a hand on the soldier's shoulder to which the shoulder jumped.

"Why don't you just kill me?" the soldier said in a raspy voice. "Haven't you learned by now I won't tell you anything?"

"I'm not here to kill you Commander Koltarn," Mulkrit whispered, "I'm here

to rescue you."

A little shocked at the statement, Koltarn turned his head to see if the person next to him was playing some cruel joke. With bruised eyes and dim lighting he could barely make out Mulkrit's face. He didn't recognize the soldier right away, but he recognized the face to be that of a Klingon. His mouth dropped a little in amazement and he quietly uttered something in Klingon about Molar.

"Commander Mulkrit at your service." Mulkrit introduced himself, but quickly saw that this was hardly the time for pleasantries. "Can you walk?" he asked as he noticed how broken Koltarn's body looked.

"Barely," he said in response. "No thanks to those Romulan pa'tahqs." As Koltarn sat there he suddenly looked as though he was lost in thought. Finally when he spoke it was just barely audible. "Mulkrit....I've heard that name from before."

"Probably from a mission report or something you read. Like you, I'm the commanding officer of one of the ARA vessels. I command the Negh'Var class warship the Sompek."

"No, that's not it." Koltarn sat back and sifted through all the information stored in his mind. Something seemed to connect and he finally remembered where he had heard Mulkrit's name. "No, I heard it from my cell mate," he said before lifting a finger to point at the adjacent corner.

For a moment Mulkrit just sat there confused about Koltarn's statement. Finally though he turned his head to look in the direction which the broken soldier pointed and Mulkrit nearly fell backwards in surprise as a second figure took shape leaning against a wall. Slowly the commander crept over and as he got closer he was able to identify the figure as a Breen soldier. Something seemed familiar about him, but Mulkrit didn't know why. After realizing the soldier was asleep Mulkrit shook him. "Wake up. I need your helping in getting Koltarn out of here."

"Getting Koltarn out of here?" the Breen soldier said dazed and still half asleep. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm Commander Mulkrit, and I came here to rescue Koltarn. He's in too bad of shape though and I can't move him alone. Will you help me or do I leave you to rot in this prison cell?"

"Mulkrit?" the Breen soldier said questioningly. Then he leaned forward to get a better look at the Klingon soldier's face and when he did he clasped a hand on Mulkrit's arm. "It's good to see you friend."

At first Mulkrit had no idea what was going on and the Breen's actions startled him. Looking at the Breen soldier sitting before him though brought a feeling of recognition to him. Slowly the wheels in his head began to turn and as he listened to the Breen's words over again in his mind he suddenly knew why the soldier before him felt so familiar. "Zelbreghn?" Mulkrit replied, not sure if he was right and whether to believe it if he was.

"Yes my old friend," Zelbreghn replied with barely any strength in his voice.

Mulkrit immediately clasped his comrade's arm before he started speaking again. "But the Tzlih was destroyed nearly a year ago in the Kresh'nar Nebula." The Klingon soldier just sat there in shock for a moment, still not able to come to terms with his friend's sudden resurrection. "You're supposed to be dead. What are you doing here?"

"Well it's a long story, but let's just say that while the Tzlih took quite a beating it wasn't destroyed. Despite having a lot of my crew dead and only half a ship to fly we were able to get a few sectors away before the Romulans found us." Zelbreghn explained as his voice began to fail. "I've been here ever since."

"Not anymore friend. Come on, I'm getting you out of here."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Slowly Zelbreghn got up off the ground and it was instantly apparent to Mulkrit that the Breen soldier had been tortured just as hard as Koltarn had been. "I'm glad you're here Mulkrit," he was barely able to whisper out through waves of pain.

Mulkrit looked back at Zelbreghn for a moment, but couldn't think of anything good to say in response. He then made his way back across the room and bent down when he reached where Koltarn sat barely conscious. "Come on Koltarn, it's time to get you out of here."

"Well it's about time," Koltarn replied and made an effort to smile at the joke but a fierce wave of pain prevented him from doing so.

After ushering Zelbreghn over the two soldiers each placed an arm under Koltarn and carefully lifted him up off of the ground. Leaning the broken Klingon against the wall Mulkrit reached into his uniform and grabbed the small disk he had tucked away earlier.

"What's that?" Zelbreghn asked noticing the device.

"Our ticket out of here," Mulkrit replied before tapping the disk. Nothing happened for a moment and Mulkrit looked completely dumbfounded as he tapped the device over and over again, each time with the same result.

"Is that a transport locator?" Zelbreghn asked as he started to recognize the device.

"Yeah, but it doesn't appear to be working." Mulkrit replied as he grew frustrated at the device.

"No, it wouldn't. The Romulans have a shield around the compound that keeps devices like that from working, in case one gets slipped to us."

For a moment Koltarn stood there in thought for a moment. So the Romulans had a dampening shield around the compound. "I suppose that's why our scans didn't pick this place up," Mulkrit said to no one in particular. Zelbreghn gave a nod telling the Klingon soldier that he was right. "Well it looks like we're going to have to escape the hard way. Do you think you can make it out of this compound Koltarn?"

"Faster than you can," the wounded soldier barely managed to say.

With Koltarn leaned against the wall Mulkrit made his way over to the cell's door and opened it. He peeked his head out and looked down both ends of the dimly lit hallway to make sure there wasn't a guard laying in wait to strike at them. Once he was satisfied that everything was clear he signaled Zelbreghn to bring Koltarn over to the doorway. When the two wounded soldiers stood in the doorway they paused and both felt something inside of them. They were about to be free of the hostile prison and they couldn't help but to feel a little joy at the fact.

Placing an arm under Koltarn Mulkrit led his Breen friend out of the dank cell and down the hallway. A stale silence filled the air and Mulkrit grew a little nervous at just how quiet the compound was. Every now and then he would peer into a cell and each time he would find a prisoner lying asleep. He wished he could help free the others, but he knew that for the moment it was impossible. Right then he had to do everything in his power to get Koltarn and Zelbreghn out of there. The silence that had begun to bother Mulkrit didn't bother him for very long as suddenly it was broken by a blaring noise coming from all around him. "What's that?" Mulkrit said in shock.

"It's the intruder alarm," Zelbreghn said as he did nothing but stand there and listen. "How well did you cover your tracks when you snuck in here Mulkrit?"

"Pretty well," Mulkrit replied a little offended at Zelbreghn's words. The Breen soldier just stood there staring at him, not fully believing Mulkrit's words. "Well I did have to kill one of the guards," the Klingon soldier finally conceded, "but I hid the body," he added as though the fact would make a difference. Koltarn muttered some curse under his breath and Mulkrit began to get more offended when Zelbreghn finally said something.

"It doesn't matter if they found the body or not. The fact is they know someone's here and unless the two of you want to end up in that cell again then I suggest that instead of trying to blame someone for the situation let's just get out of it."

Letting everything fall away Mulkrit did nothing but give a quick nod. "Come on Koltarn, we need to get out of here now."

Koltarn said something that neither of the other two could understand before the three Alliance soldiers started off again. They were nearly running down the length of the hallway, even though the act was a challenge to Zelbreghn and even more difficult for Koltarn. Finally after a few painful minutes the three made their way to the building's door. Mulkrit took the role of lookout as he peered through the window and was amazed to see no guards present outside. He gave the all-clear signal to Zelbreghn who helped Koltarn over to the door before Mulkrit opened it and the three slipped out.

The outside of the building seemed to be a strange environment. From all around the alarms continued with their deafening sounds and yet the compound seemed to be so still. None of the Alliance soldiers gave the fact more than a passing thought as their minds focused on a means to escape. Zelbreghn asked Mulkrit about how he had entered the compound in the first place, but after looking at Koltarn he quickly explained that they wouldn't be able to escape that way. "Have any suggestions?" Mulkrit asked the Breen soldier as he looked about for anything that might help them to escape.

Zelbreghn thought for a moment and went over everything in his mind about the compound, trying to remember something they could use to escape. The obvious then came to his mind and he almost felt stupid for not remembering it earlier. "They have a shuttle in one of the larger buildings that they use to bring in supplies."

"Where?" was all Mulkrit said in response as he looked about for any sign of Romulans.

"Over there," Zelbreghn said as he pointed to a large building set in the corner with a retractable door that took up most of the building's front wall.

At once all three soldiers picked up their speed towards the shuttle hangar and it wasn't until they were halfway there did the first sign of trouble come as the blast from a Romulan disruptor flew past them. They stopped only for a moment and turned to look behind them and saw a contingent of Romulan soldiers charging their way across the compound. The three soldiers began running again and it seemed like they would make it until suddenly one of the Romulan's blasts found its mark and Mulkrit fell down in a wave of pain.

"Mulkrit!" Zelbreghn shouted as he stopped and rushed back over to his fallen Klingon friend.

"Go on without me Zelbreghn!" Mulkrit shouted as he looked around. In an instant he took in everything at once. The Romulan soldiers who were quickly gaining ground on them, the aching and bleeding wound that had appeared on his lower back, and finally the helmeted face of his Breen friend. "You have to go Zelbreghn. Koltarn is more important!" he said trying to emphasize just how important Koltarn's rescue was.

"I won't leave you here Mulkrit. I know what they'll do to you if I do."

Reaching into his uniform Mulkrit pulled something out and handed it to Zelbreghn. "Don't worry about me old friend. I'll take care of myself." After that Mulkrit turned away from Zelbreghn and Koltarn and pulled out his disruptor. Without much aim he started to fire at the approaching Romulans. A small feeling of success came as he saw one of them fall in death. Lying on the ground wounded Mulkrit just continued to open fire until another blast hit him in the shoulder and he fell backwards onto the ground and into the awaiting darkness.

Some time later Mulkrit finally regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain that came from his shoulder. He looked at his wound with distaste. It was one thing that he had been shot at all, but the job that the Romulan doctor had done to patch him up was horrible. To Mulkrit it looked like someone had just taped a cloth patch over his wound. Something that wouldn't keep the wound from causing him serious pain and trouble, but would keep him from bleeding out and dying right away. They intended to keep him alive, long enough to interrogate at least.

"Is there something wrong?" a voice came from somewhere that had noticed the look on Mulkrit's face.

At the sudden words Mulkrit turned his attention away from his wound and began to look around the room. All he saw was darkness and he couldn't even tell from what direction the voice had come from as the walls around him seemed to bounce the voice around creating an echo. "Yeah, your doctor is about as useful as a Kelmorian slug. Doesn't even know how to properly dress a disruptor wound." he said into the darkness.

Suddenly the voice gave into a small laugh before replying. "Our doctor is quite useful indeed in the field of Romulan medicine. As far as other biology's, such as Klingon for example, he hasn't grasped them completely yet. Unfortunately this has caused some bad results for some of our 'guests'."

"I'm sure they die just to get away from him." Mulkrit's comment once again seemed to amuse the Romulan as he gave another small chuckle. Having already had enough of the Romulan's game Mulkrit began to work at the knot that bound his hands together behind his back while he decided to try and distract the Romulan. "What do you want from me?" Mulkrit asked the shadows.

"That my Klingon friend is simple. I want some information from you. And if you provide it then you can live."

Instinct drove the Klingon soldier to want to spit back some insult at the Romulan and declare how he would never provide a single drop of information that the Romulan might want. He knew though that such an act wouldn't be a smart one. Instead he decided to act as cooperative as he could without doing so, thinking that it would serve as a much better distraction as he worked to free himself. "What information do you want?"

"First," the Romulan said taking a big pause afterwards to try and make himself sound more important, "I want to know how many Alliance soldiers did you bring with you."

"Thousands," Mulkrit said with a smirk. "And they are all planning to flatten this compound within the hour."

"Lies!" the Romulan shot back, feeling his intelligence had just been insulted. "At most there are half a dozen. We would have detected a group any larger than that."

"If you don't want to believe that then that's fine by me. But when they come to break me out of here you'll see I was right. Besides, what makes you think that you would detect them? I mean, if you couldn't detect me..."

"There you are mistaken, my Klingon friend. Our sensors picked you up the moment you beamed down onto the planet. We chose not to act though until we knew you could be caught."

Mulkrit smiled inward at the attempt the Romulan was making to sound superior than him, as though Mulkrit's whole expedition into the Romulan prison camp had been known about and somehow orchestrated by the Romulan himself. "Tell that to the Romulan I killed."

"Yes, that was unfortunate. But in war there must be casualties. I'm sure that as a soldier you're quite familiar with that prospect."

"Uh huh," Mulkrit muttered as he worked at the knot in the rope which held his hands together.

"If you will not tell me how many soldiers you brought with you then maybe we can find something else you will tell me. Why did you come here?"

"To free the Alliance prisoners being held here."

"I don't think so," the Romulan said questionly.

"What other reason would I have for coming to a Romulan prison camp?"

"There are over two dozen Alliance prisoners being held at this camp, but when you were caught you only had two of them with you. What makes those two important enough that you would risk your life to save them and none of the others?"

"Don't you know?" Mulkrit asked, getting in a small insult as well as causing more of a distraction for the Romulan.

"Our intelligence has provided us their names as well as their ranks and positions within the Alliance's military. Other than that we have nothing on them."

"I thought you would have interrogated them by now, as long as you've had them. Or maybe you tried and couldn't get anything out of them." Mulkrit smiled as he knew the Romulan had slipped up by saying they didn't know anything.

A sound came from somewhere in front of Mulkrit that sounded like something hard had just been hit. The next moment he could hear feet shuffling from the opposite side of the room and then suddenly the Romulan spoke again, but this time not to him. "Send him in."

A moment later a door off to Mulkrit's left slid open and a blinding light poured in. Eyes squinting, Mulkrit looked at the doorway to try and figure out exactly what was going on. A figure appeared for a moment before stepping into the room and letting the door close behind him. Mulkrit wasn't able to get a close enough look at the figure, but he could tell there was something different about him. He could tell the figure wasn't Romulan.

"Is there something you need from me?" the figure asked the Romulan somewhere in the shadows beyond Mulkrit's field of vision.

"This Klingon here isn't cooperating. I thought you might enjoy showing him what happens to those who don't cooperate at this camp."

"Gladly Centurion," the figure said with an obvious joy to his tone.

After that Mulkrit heard feet shuffle once more across the stone floor as the figure moved passed him. Silence filled the room until whoever the figure was began to rifle around for something on a table behind him. Mulkrit wondered who the figure was and more importantly what he was about to do. Frantically moving his fingers he tried to free his hands in the waning moments he had left, but time was just not on his side.

As Mulkrit struggled to free himself the figure looked over several devices. After finally choosing on one he turned around and noticed how Mulkrit's hands were frantically working to free themselves. "He's trying to free his hands Centurion," the figure replied with a tone of sarcastic joy.

"Fool. Where do you think you can go if you get out of that knot? You couldn't even make it out of this room before you'd be knocked unconscious."

"We'll see," Mulkrit almost silently muttered to himself.

"Why don't you teach him a lesson about trying to escape?" the Romulan suggested.

In the next moment a wave of pain coursed through Mulkrit's body as something was jabbed into his right side. The pain was nearly unbearable and Mulkrit almost screamed from both the shock of the sudden jab and the pain it caused. He didn't allow himself to though. Mulkrit knew that the Romulan would want a scream, so he wouldn't allow his torturer the satisfaction. Instead he just sat there in silence as though the attack hadn't fazed him at all.

The Romulan stepped forward as the figure paused in his attack momentarily. A grin stretched its way across his face as it became apparent that Mulkrit was in pain. "So Klingon, feeling a bit more cooperative?"

"Go to Gre'thor!" Mulkrit shot at the Romulan before spitting in the direction of the Romulan's voice.

"Very well then. If you do not wish to cooperate then you leave me with no choice but to have him continue." With that the Romulan could be heard taking a step back before another wave of pain hit Mulkrit.

This continued on for a while with no change. The Romulan would ask a question of Mulkrit and he would reply with an insult, to which he was rewarded with another sharp jab. Mulkrit struggled to keep himself conscious and focused as his body was consumed more and more by pain. He was about to give into the awaiting abyss and let his body pass out from the pain when suddenly something happened. At first Mulkrit thought that nothing had really happened and that the pain of his body just caused his mind to hallucinate. Then it happened again. As Mulkrit lifted his weary head up he could see through the darkness the building shake.

"What's going on?" the figure asked his Romulan commander with obvious confusion in his voice.

"I don't know," the Romulan replied, mirroring the figure's thoughts. Suddenly he rushed over to the comms panel and tapped it as he had done so before. "What's going on?" he quickly asked into the comm.

"Centurion........prisoners.........escaping........enemy soldiers.......inside the compound........torpedo bombing......orbit......" was all that could be heard through a deafening static before the transmission ended all together.

Having forgotten about Mulkrit the shadowed figure rushed over to the centurion to get a confirmation about what was going on. "Orders?" was all he could think to ask.

"How did they find us?" the Romulan muttered to himself more then to his subordinate. "We were so well hidden, so well disguised. One of the best prison camps and now we are under attack, on the verge of losing our lives and most importantly our reputations. How could this have happened?"

"Sir?" the figure asked confused about what his Romulan commander was muttering about and panicked about what was going on. He was about to make a move to escape when suddenly the room's door swung open and several blasts from a Klingon disruptor came flying in.

Through pain blurred eyes Mulkrit saw the door swing open and several glowing projectiles come flying through the doorway. In the shadows caste about the room he followed the glowing death as they connected with two figures standing by the wall opposite from him. With barely a scream and a loud thud the two figures fell onto the floor. No longer concerned about his jailers Mulkrit turned his attention to focus back on the doorway. What he saw brought back a touch of deja vu as he knew instantly that the figure being protected behind the gray helmet was not Klingon.

"Mulkrit!" the figure shouted before rushing over to check out his Klingon comrade.

"Zelbreghn," Mulkrit said before giving into a cough of pain. "I see you decided to return the favor and rescue me."

"Of course," the Breen soldier said as he began to untie Mulkrit's hands. "You didn't think I would leave you here with the embarrassment of being caught did you?"

"Oh is that why you came back for me?" Mulkrit said before both gave into a slight laugh. Suddenly Mulkrit had to squint his eyes as the lights in the room suddenly flickered on. As his eyes began to adjust to the sudden change in lighting he looked to the doorway to see a Klingon soldier from the Kor'Jaq. Turning his vision away he saw two bodies slumped into one corner. The first was a Romulan officer with an assortment of medallions and insignia attached to his uniform. A look of shock had been frozen onto his face. Next to him on the ground lay Mulkrit's would be torturer. He didn't recognize the clothing and a hood hid the figure's face from Mulkrit's view. Curiosity asked who the figure was, but Mulkrit ended up not caring.

"Let's go," Zelbreghn said as he helped Mulkrit up from where he sat. With an arm under Mulkrit the two began to make their way out of the small room until a noise suddenly caught their attention. As they turned around the body of the hooded figure began to stir and both soldiers realized the figure was still alive as his blood gleamed on his shoulder.

Making their way to the figure Mulkrit leaned down and knelt over his body. The figure moved about dazed, not having much of a clue about what had happened. Suddenly Mulkrit grabbed him and pulled him up off of the ground. Curious as to the figure's identity he slowly pulled back the figure's hood. What he saw shocked him. Underneath the hood slowly the figure's blue toned skin came into view, followed by shortened white hair, and finally the characteristic antennae of his race.

"An Andorian!" Zelbreghn expressed the shock that both he and Mulkrit were feeling.

"Not just any Andorian, Zelbreghn. I recognize him. His name is Shrelik, and he used to be one of the highest ranking generals in the Andorian Imperial Guard."

Suddenly Shrelik came back into consciousness as he realized what was going on. Seeing Mulkrit's face two inches in front of his own and the Klingon's hand gripped tightly onto his shirt he made a desperate attempt to free himself from Mulkrit's grip, but he failed.

"General Shrelik, what are you doing here? More importantly why are you helping the Romulans?" Mulkrit asked of his captive.

"I don't have to tell you anything!" Shrelik said before spitting into Mulkrit's face. "Why don't you just kill me like you did the rest of my race?"

Tired and frustrated Mulkrit tossed the wounded Andorian back onto the ground. He didn't feel much like dealing with Shrelik at the moment and he knew that the discovery of the Andorian general was sure to open a whole new line of questions. "Let's get out of here Zelbreghn," Mulkrit said as he slowly made his way to the door.

"What about him?" Zelbreghn asked as he gestured to the flailing Andorian.

"Bring him. I'm sure the Regent will have plenty of questions for him once we get to Narendra III."


	14. Unexpected Truths

_Chapter Fourteen: Unexpected Truths_

Mission  
forty-eight hours after the Narendra III Conference was shaken with accusations, the delegates prepare to reconvene on the matter of Seven's allegiance. Having time to go over all the facts each of them have formed their own beliefs about what happened, but are those beliefs solid enough to stand in the face of a startling new truth?  
Mission Date:  
113th day in the 2369th of Molar

As he made his way through the crowded marketplace Duren couldn't help but to look at a time readout hanging on the wall of a nearby building. It read as twelve hundred thirty, giving him well over an hour before the conference was scheduled to resume. That was just enough time to get back to his quarters and have a word with Dukat and Tierzak before heading off to the meeting hall.

The sea of people around him seemed to be at a standstill and the fact that he couldn't quickly reach the inn where the delegates were frustrated him. Slowly moving with the crowd, he gripped the bottle that he had just bought. He took a quick look at the greenish liquid and smiled a little bit at himself. This bottle was to be their celebration. Though the conference was still a short while off something in Duren knew that by the meeting's end Seven would leave in shackles. The evidence against her was just too strong for things to go otherwise.

That evidence, Duren still couldn't believe that Tierzak had done so well in finding something to incriminate Seven. When he had first pushed the idea to get rid of the Overseer to the Detapa Council he had never imagined he would get his hands on a piece of evidence as helpful as the security recordings that Tierzak had obtained. He knew that the Ferengi daimon had gotten the tapes from a Yridian trader. Outside of that he had no clue as to who had made the tapes or how they had come into the possession of the Yridian. This fact bothered him, but only to the point of curiosity.

Another thing that Duren had found it hard to believe was how helpful and how dedicated to this cause Tierzak had been. Originally he had thought that the Detapa Council's idea of including the Ferengi government in on their little coupe was a joke, which turned into a complete disbelief once he realized the seriousness of that idea. At first he had completely detested the idea of working with an alien on this project, especially a Ferengi. Like many other Cardassians Duren wasn't fond of having to deal with other races. It wasn't that he was xenophobic or anything, he just couldn't see how any of the other races could ever possibly be considered an equal people when compared to the noble Cardassian race. Despite his misgivings though he had gone ahead and worked closely with Tierzak, and had been surprisingly pleased at the results. The short daimon had proved to be as cunning and as resourceful as any Cardassian Duren had ever known. For this he had earned the respect, and more importantly the friendship, of Duren.

As his thoughts wandered back to the unrelenting crowd around him Duren took notice of where exactly he was. Thankfully he found that he was almost back at the inn where the delegates were staying, along with the room that had been secretly reserved and shared by him and his Ferengi associate, as well as his important role model of Dukat and his daughter Ziyal.

Another surprise to Duren was how the once revered gul had come into his path. As a young officer in the Cardassian military Duren had spent a great deal of time learning about Dukat's past and present accomplishments. When news of his hero's censure had come to him Duren was almost mystified at how such a thing could happen. By then though the war had gone into full swing and it had been made impossible for him to devote any worthwhile time on the matter.

Despite the censure of the Detapa Council and being forced to live through untold nightmares Dukat still held his head as high as any other Cardassian would. The thought of going from such a noble and decorated position in the Cardassian Empire to being cast down to the very bottom of life's possibilities along with some of the galaxies worst dregs seemed surreal to Duren. He could not even begin to think of what horrors lay unchecked on the world of Tesslak Prime, and he could not imagine lasting more than a few weeks on the hostile world himself. But to live there for two years? And with a young daughter by your side who one could only assume would catch the eye of the local savages. Somehow both Dukat and Ziyal had survived nothing short of a hellish reality and had yet came out virtually unscathed with their pride and morality, let alone their sanity, intact. For this Duren had nothing but the highest admiration one could have for the pair.

Finally after the most aggravating experience in recent times, Duren stood before the large wooden doors that made up the inn's entrance. As he pushed the doors open a strong, robust scent came to him. Being midday the inn's galley was hard at work preparing meals for the delegates before they were rushed off to the conference. For a moment Duren paused and took a whiff of the air to try and determine what exactly they were cooking. The smell though didn't hold his attention for long as it soon became evident of how impossible it would be to determine anything specific that was being prepared. There were members from nearly a dozen species currently being housed in the inn, each with their own specific tastes and menus. Obviously the smell was some odd mixing of all these menus and short of actually going into the galley Duren would have a hard time picking out any one specific dish. With a slight mental shake to get his mind back on track Duren turned down the nearest hallway and began searching for his room.

To Duren's surprise the hallway was packed with people. Most of them were workers of the inn going from room to room bringing meals and doing their best to tidy the place up. Duren noticed that most of them were Terrans, probably slaves that the inn's owner had been able to acquire cheaply from the slave trade market. His gaze lay on a few of them as he passed them in the hallways, but he didn't let his gaze stay for long. Something in those Terran features made Duren feel uneasy in that moment. It almost felt that they all knew that he was trying to take down Overseer Seven, who had strangely enough become some sort of icon for them. Because of that a whisper in his head gave into the notion that they were plotting against him, but he nearly laughed the idea off as he came to his room.

Upon entering his room another smell hit him, this time more defined and less appealing. "What is that awful smell?" he asked of his three companions.

"Tube Grubs," Tierzak said with a toothy Ferengi grin. "Dank and squirming, just like moogie use to make." The Ferengi eyed the fat worms as they moved about on the plate in front of him before looking back at Duren. "Care for one Duren?"

"I'll pass Tierzak," Duren said in response as he looked at the musty creatures. Just the smell of them was enough to make his stomach turn, let alone the sight. Tierzak replied with a shrug of his shoulders and Duren could hardly believe how greedily the little Ferengi ate them up. He just shook his head at the sight before turning to Dukat. "What, no meal for you Dukat?"

"I prefer to go into a meeting on an empty stomach. It helps me to focus better for some reason." Sitting across from Tierzak Dukat stared at the Ferengi for a moment before adding, "Plus the smell of those things that the Ferengi is eating has caused me to lose my appetite."

At the comment Duren laughed inwardly, but only let a small smile shine through. Taking a step towards where his comrades were sitting Dukat's daughter Ziyal suddenly came into view. She was quietly sitting off to one side of her father munching on something Duren recognized to be a Bajoran dish called Hasparat. For a moment Duren was surprised to see a Cardassian eating a Bajoran dish, but quickly realized how stupid his thought was since Ziyal was half Bajoran and had grown up on the Bajoran homeworld. Another thing that struck him odd about the scene was that it was probably the first time since Tierzak had brought the Cardassian pair aboard the Alvex that Duren had seen the girl eat. Throughout the whole time spent on the Alvex and while they were hiding on Andor he had never seen Ziyal eat or drink anything. As Duren took a seat in between Dukat and Tierzak he gave another little smile, as he was happy to see Ziyal do something besides silently sitting in a shadowed corner.

"What do you have there?" Dukat asked as he noticed the bottle in Duren's hand.

"Kanar, for our victory celebration after the delegation gets rid of Seven this afternoon." Duren replied as he handed the bottle to Dukat.

"'56, good choice of vintage here Duren."

"It better be a good vintage considering how much I had to pay for it."

Breaking into the Cardassian pair's talk of the Kanar Tierzak suddenly spoke up. "Do you really think the delegation will vote Seven guilty of treason?" the Ferengi barely managed to say with a mouth full of Tube Grub.

"Well you saw the evidence for yourself Tierzak. What do you think they will do about Seven?"

"I would vote her guilty myself, but I am not so sure some of the other delegates will see everything the same way I do."

"I agree with the Ferengi, Duren. If the attitudes we saw the other day were any indication then I don't see the vote turning out any different then it did. Every one of those delegates seemed to have a pretty firm stance on their position, whichever side of the argument they were on. Attitudes like that just don't change over night."

"Maybe so Dukat, maybe so. I still believe though that the evidence we gave them shows Seven's guilt so clearly that they won't help to vote for her to be removed from power."

"And who do you think will change their vote? Obviously you're hoping that the Bajoran, Breen, and Ferengi delegations stick with their vote against Seven, but do you really think that either our delegation or the Klingon one will change their mind? Our evidence against Seven is mostly based on the fact that she was the one responsible for Kai Winn's assassination three years ago. What do the Klingons care whether she did or not? And the same could be asked of the Detapa Council. When everything is said and done does this one occurrence really affect anything that is going on today?"

"The point of showing that Seven killed Kai Winn was to establish that she cannot be trusted. Think about it this way Dukat. If she can go and kill the kai behind everyone's back and get away with it scott-free while poor Ziyal here is blamed, then what is to stop her from any other act of subterfuge? We have established that she has already murdered one person in cold blood, what's to stop her from murdering more? Do you really think that everyone will just allow someone with that reputation to hold the second most powerful position in the Alliance?"

"You do not have to convince me of the reasons to get rid of Seven, Duren. I understand the situation perfectly. I'm just saying that not everyone else thinks along the same lines as we do. Even though you have plenty of justification to back up your position I still do not believe however that you have enough to convince all of the delegates, especially the Klingon ones."

"What about the Klingon dk'tahg that was found in Kai Winn's office near her body?"

"What of it?" Dukat asked with intrigue.

"When that Klingon blade was found in Kai Winn's office it was first assumed that the Klingons had something to do with her assassination. It wasn't until later on, after Ziyal's disappearance was discovered, that the Cardassians were blamed. Then of course Ziyal was blamed for planting the weapon as an attempt by the Cardassian government to try and seize power from the Klingons, which ultimately led to a widening rift in our alliance with them. Don't you think that now that Seven is shown to have killed the kai and planted the dk'tahg that some of the animosity that the Klingons hold towards us will be transferred onto her?"

"I suppose it's possible, but that won't keep me from being skeptical."

"You go on and keep being skeptical Dukat. By the day's end we shall see who is right."

"Yes Duren, we shall see."

After their conversation about what would happen at the conference that afternoon both Cardassians fell into a sort of quiet mood. Duren found a place for his bottle of Kanar and tucked it away, confident that it would be opened in celebration by the day's end. Dukat spent some time whispering back and forth to his daughter Ziyal, who listened more then responded. Oblivious to everything else the short Tierzak continued to munch on his Tube Grubs in quiet contentment. The sight disgusted Duren a little bit, but ultimately caused him to laugh inward about the scene Tierzak was making.

On a few occasions Duren started to open his mouth to say something to Dukat. A stale silence had fallen on the room and it was beginning to make Duren feel very uncomfortable. Each time though something in his mind came up and stopped him. Whenever he looked at the former gul he appeared to be lost in thought, and Duren didn't want to say anything and interrupt those thoughts. That wasn't entirely true though. The truth was that he just couldn't think of anything more to say. Between Dukat, Duren, and Tierzak there had been so much planning and preparation and discussing about their plan to get rid of Seven that now in the moments before that plan was to come to fruition there simply wasn't anymore that could be done in concern with the matter. Now they only needed to waste a few more moments before it was time for the conference to begin and for Seven's power to end.

Shifting in his seat Duren took note once again what time it was. Both to his dismay and his surprise he saw that there were still a good forty minutes before they were to leave and make their way across the busy spaceport to the meeting hall where the conference was scheduled to resume. In his almost painfully slow trip back to the inn he had almost lost his sense of time. The conversation between him and Dukat couldn't have last more than ten minutes at most, but it had felt as though it had consumed their entire free hour. Boredom was beginning to set in for the gul and in that instant he wished for something to do to pass the time more quickly before they were to depart. In the next instant it almost seemed as though his wish had mysteriously been found about and then granted as a small chime could be heard coming form the room's door.

With one swift and seemingly choreographed movement all four people suddenly turned their attention to the door. They held it there for a moment, not quite sure whether the door had really rung or they had all just imagined it. When it rang again their doubts about it ringing were put to rest and suddenly replaced by curiosity as to who it may be. Turning away from the door they all looked at each other, wondering if one of the people across from them had a clue as to who it might be. There they sat motionless for a moment before the door chimed for a third time.

Slowly Duren got up from his chair, still looking at the people around him. "This better not be more Tube Grubs, Tierzak," Duren said hoping to break the tension in the air. Turning around he slowly walked to the front door and paused for a moment for a reason not even he knew before he tapped a small panel which told the door to open. As it slid open two women appeared before Duren and the sight of them did nothing but make him even more confused. The first woman was a Terran, probably a slave. The other woman was a Bajoran, but not just any Bajoran. No, this Bajoran was different. She was probably the most underhanded individual Duren had ever known. "Can I help you with something, Intendant?" he asked with fake politeness and true curiosity.

"Gul Duren, how lovely to see you again. Yes, I believe there is a matter that you can help me with, or rather a matter I can help you with. May I come in?"

"By all means," Duren gestured.

As the Intendant made her way across the room she wore a smile that was obviously fake. Yet somehow it seemed real on her. "Dukat, what an honor it is to see such a noble man, censure or not." she said as she walked towards the group. "And Daimon Tierzak, how nice to see you as well." After greeting the two men she turned her attention to Dukat's daughter. "Ziyal, lovely Ziyal, you truly are a picture of young beauty."

"If you're done with your pitiful attempts at flattery then why don't you tell us why you're here." Dukat said neither believing in Kira's words or being amused by them.

"Dukat, there is no need to have a tone with me. I mean we are all friends here, aren't we?" As she asked the question she looked at everyone's face for some sort of approval, but all she was met with was silence. "Very well. If it's business that you want to talk about then who am I to try and say differently?" She paused for a moment after that to wet her lips and gather her thoughts before she looked for a place to sit down.

Picking up on Kira's thoughts Duren got up for a second and grabbed a chair, placing it directly opposite of him and his comrades. "Here you go Intendant," he said offering her the chair with a touch of disgust in his tone.

"Thank you Duren," Kira said as she sat down in the chair. Looking back across she saw four pairs of eyes staring intently at her, wondering what she was about to say. After taking a deep breathe she began. "You four want to get rid of Seven, this fact you said clearly enough at the conference the other day. I don't know why you do, but I won't disagree with your reasons, whatever they may be. I do know however that the attitudes we saw from the delegates don't bode well for your plan to get rid of her. There is a way that I can change their minds and help you if you wish me to."

"How?" was all Duren said in response.

"I know these delegates. I know what they think and how they feel. The how is not what is important at the moment. What is important is what you will have to do for me in return for helping you." Instantly the mood of everyone changed and any fleeting hope that might have entered their minds had suddenly vanished. "Don't worry, I ask only a simple thing." Kira quickly said as she noticed the change in mood. "All I want from you is to know where you got the security tapes. From what I heard those tapes were destroyed years ago."

"Tierzak is the one who got them," Duren said with a gesture to the Ferengi who sat beside him.

Instantly the Bajoran's attention was locked on the Ferengi and he grew very nervous as she stared at him. Calming his nerves a bit he replied with a calm and commanding tone. "I got the tapes from a trader. A trader whose identity I am not at liberty to reveal to you, Intendant."

Kira bit her lip in frustration at Tierzak's refusal to tell her what she felt she so needed to know. Gathering her thoughts she decided to try a slightly different angle. "But how did he get a hold of tapes that have been destroyed and forgotten about for three years?"

Hesitant, Tierzak looked at Duren for a moment to try and get a reading on how much he should tell Kira. A slight nod from the Cardassian gul signaled for Tierzak to go on. "I have no clue how my source got a hold of these tapes, but I do know that these are not the original ones that were reviewed by Bajoran security."

With the information being soaked in by Kira she put up an air of confusion. "What do you mean not the original ones? If these aren't the ones from Kai Winn's office then where did they come from?" she asked pretending to be completely baffled in concern with their source.

"Apparently someone tapped into the security feed for the kai's office on the day in question and made a recording for themself."

"And we know who did it too," Duren interrupted his Ferengi friend as he stared darkly at the Intendant.

"Now what ever could you mean by that Duren?" Kira asked as she made one last attempt at playing innocent.

"Let me make it more clear for you then, Intendant. We know that you and Kai Winn hated each other, enough so that you would want each other dead. We also know that Seven was working for you at the time of Winn's death. Now we have this tape here, copied off world, showing us that Seven was the one who killed the kai. Do you see what I mean now Kira? Or do I have to connect the dots for you?"

With Duren's words Kira abruptly stood up and furiously looked back at the Cardassian. "I come here, offering you help, and this is how I am treated? I, my good Duren, am the Intendant of Bajor and commander of Terok Nor. Too much honor has been bestowed upon me to have to sit here and be so hostily insulted."

"Sit down Nerrys," Dukat said, surprising everyone in the room both by his tone and the use of Kira's first name. "You had Seven kill Kai Winn and videotaped it. This we fully know. But that is no reason for you to be so upset. As you said, we are all friends here. If you help us to get rid of Seven then I see no reason that your involvement with her should be made public."

Starting to calm down Kira eased back into her seat. "So what are you going to do now, blackmail me into helping you?"

"No, we aren't blackmailing you at all Nerrys. I'm just trying to give you some incentive for helping us out here. If you don't want to help us get rid of Seven today then you shouldn't take it as threat that we would expose any dealings you might have had with her. After all, I'm confident that we have the support to get rid of Seven today without your help."

Biting her lip in annoyance Kira looked across at Dukat. "First of all Dukat, don't ever address me as Nerrys. That is a privilege above you." She waited for a moment and didn't make her other point until Dukat gave a nod in agreement. "Second, how can you be so confident that you have the support? From what I saw neither the Klingons nor the Cardassians thought anything of these charges, especially not enough to go against Seven on them. As for the Ferengi and Breen delegations, I still think they could go either way when it comes down to the vote. Both of them seemed wary the other day and I think that the only reason they voted with you was because they were unsure of the truth. Your little evidence may not have been enough to make them go against the Overseer when it comes down to it. You think that you made such a strong case as to get a unanimous vote on your side, but you might not end up with any votes at all."

"And what of the Bajoran vote?" Duren said as he stared at Kira.

"I personally wouldn't want to vote in Seven's favor, but my principles may force me to."

"Oh, I have a feeling you wouldn't want to vote against us, Kira," Dukat said with a smug grin as he leaned back in his chair.

Dukat's comment infuriated Kira to no end. Here she had come, thinking that her offer would undoubtedly give her some power over the small group of conspirators before her. As it turned out irony had stepped in and reversed the situation so that it ended in her being the one used. She wanted to storm out of there and never be forced to look upon any of heir smug faces again, but she knew that would do her no good. Instead she swallowed her pride for the moment and took the opportunity she had to become allies with them. "Very well," she slowly said, "I will cast the Bajoran vote in favor of Seven's dismissal. That's still only one vote though, you'll need three votes on your side otherwise the matter dies here today."

Duren sat back and thought about things for a moment. He had become confident in his plan and his evidence against Seven. To him the vote would be nothing but unanimous against Seven after everyone had clearly seen how she couldn't be trusted. But not all of them would think along the same lines as him. This was a fact that was all but guaranteed. As he looked intently at Kira he knew he had to try everything he could to be assured that Seven would walk out of the meeting hall a condemned traitor; he had invested too much in bringing her down for things to go any other way. "Alright Kira, if you can do something to help us out today then by all means go ahead." Both Dukat and Tierzak looked at Duren in confusion at his words. "We need all the help we can get to make sure that Seven doesn't get away with this. There has been too much risked for things to not go right," he said in response to everyone's looks as he gestured his hand out to shake the Intendant's.

Inwardly smiling at herself, Kira took Duren's hand and gave it a small shake. With that shake she felt like Duren was giving her some of the power that she had come looking for in the first place. In honest, that was whole reason for Kira's visit to the small band of conspirators. It wasn't that she was looking to get rid of Seven too; she was just looking for an opportunity to exploit and seize a little bit more power for herself.

"Well, I'm going to bid you a farewell," Kira said as she noticed what time it was. "The conference is going to start in just under fifteen minutes and I'd hate for anyone to be suspicious of me for being late." This comment caused both Duren and Dukat to give her a look of skepticism. Seeing this she just responded with, "Plus I'll need the extra time if you want me to talk to all of the delegates before the conference resumes."

"Okay, we see your point Kira." At that moment both Kira and Duren rose up from their chairs and began to head over to the quarter's door. When Kira and her attendant reached the door Duren stopped her for a moment. "Kira, there is something that has been bothering me about all of this. If you don't mind one more question then maybe you can answer it for me."

Frustrated and anxious to leave Kira stood there for a moment with a notable showing of impatience. After a silent moment passed she decided to allow one more question. "Go ahead Duren."

"I was just wondering why you stepped down as Overseer and appointed Seven as your replacement."

For a moment Kira went silent again as she became lost in thought. Then she simply replied with, "The reason for that is the same reason why I would never go against you Duren." before walking out the door.

As the door slid close behind Kira Duren paused for a moment and thought about her response. He wondered if by that she meant that Seven had blackmailed her over the Kai Winn incident or if it was something else entirely. No longer caring about it for the moment he just shrugged his shoulders and put the matter behind him as he walked away from the door.

When Duren had made it back to the room where his three comrades were still sitting he looked them over for a moment. "Well, what does everyone think about that little drama?" he asked, hoping to gauge everyone's position on what Kira had just said and done.

"I don't like it. She can't be trusted, Duren." Tierzak replied with a sort of paranoid tone to his voice.

"The Ferengi is right. Kira has never shown any reason for anyone to trust her, let alone us. I'm more than a little wary of letting her become an ally."

"That may be so Dukat, but I couldn't turn down an offer of help. Not even knowing from whom that offer came." The gul paused for a moment and turned his attention to Ziyal, who was simply staring off into some unforeseen realm. "What do you think Ziyal?"

The young woman jumped for a moment, surprised that her opinion was being asked in this matter. Throughout the whole of this mission to get rid of Seven not a single decision, not a single act, had been run by her for approval. For the most part she had felt out of place ever since her and her father had arrived on the Alvex and this whole thing had begun. Aside from having to recount her story a number of times she had remained silent, and was eager for a chance to contribute something. "I came to know her while I was working for Kai Winn and she is definitely up to something."

"Yes, but will that something be good or bad for us?"

"I don't know," Ziyal said as she felt like a failure for not having more to contribute.

"Well either way we shall soon find out." A pause came where each of them sorted out there thoughts for a moment about what had happened with Kira. Glancing over at a time readout Duren suddenly realized how little time was left before the meeting was to begin. "If everyone is ready then," he said as he gestured to the time readout, signaling it was time to go. After receiving a quick nod from everyone he turned and led them out of the inn.

As soon as they left the confines of the inn all four of them grew a little dismayed about how crowded the marketplace around them was. With the lunch crowd gone they had hoped to find the crowd a little smaller, but it seemed only to have grown. Having a quickly disappearing amount of time they grew wary that they would arrive late to the meeting. They did their best to push their way through the crowd and luckily for them the meeting hall wasn't too far from the inn so it didn't take too much time or effort on their part before arriving at the hall and making their way inside.

Once inside they quickly searched the labels above each doorway for the section that had been assigned to them. After their little 'entrance' two days before several of the delegates had panicked about the lack of security that apparently was guarding the conference. If Duren and his group could so easily sneak in then who was to say a group of Romulans couldn't sneak in as well? Or any other political enemy for that matter. As a result very strict protocols had been put in place, especially for seating arrangements. Normally only the top delegates would be allowed into the meeting, but because of how involved they had made themselves become in the meeting Duren's group had been invited as well.

When they found where they were to be seated they walked in through a stone archway to the main room of the huge theater house. Once inside they all looked at each other with an uneasy feeling. They were the last ones to arrive, and as such felt bad for having to put anything on hold for their benefit. Luckily for them though the meeting was still several minutes from starting, as they soon realized with relief.

With a few free moments Duren decided to look around the cavernous room and get a better look at its decor and a better look at the assembled delegates. Being so focused on Seven and his case the last time he had been in the room had caused a distraction which forced him to not be able to appreciate anything else that was around him. First off he wanted to try and figure out where exactly they had been placed to sit. To their left he noticed that General Rakln and the rest of the Breen delegation were seated. To their right, much to Duren's surprise, was a little raised area where the Regent along with B'elanna and Seven were to be seated. He was surprised that they would be placed right next to Seven considering how hard they were working to discredit her.

As he eased back into his seat something else caught his attention. Across from them was the Bajoran delegation, but Duren only saw Kira's two advisors Ro Laren and a man by the name of Shakaar Edon. He wondered for a moment where Kira was, until he spotted her talking to Natima Lang and the rest of the Cardassian delegation. He smiled at himself as he knew what they were talking about. Kira was trying to get the Cardassians to vote against Seven during the meeting. He wondered how many of the others she had spoken to, but more impotently he wondered how many votes she had been able to gain for them. As the bustle from everyone rushing into the hall settled down a young Klingon officer made his way into the room and brought with him the ceremonious Bell of Tarqluin. After holding it up high for a moment as a sign for everyone to quiet down, he gave the bell such a shake that it almost shook free of its wooden frame as its loud rang echoed throughout the room.

A stillness filled the air as each delegate became a silent statue with their attention focused on the raised platform where Worf and Seven sat. Slowly Worf rose up and a commanding air seemed to come from him. As before, he took a moment to look at each delegate and to soak in the entire environment around him before speaking. "Assembled delegates, before we begin I wanted to comment on one thing. I know that there is one issue, which due to events that took place the other day has taken precedence in all our minds, but do not forget that there are other issues that need to be gone over before this council is adjourned. I think that we should start with some of these issues first before we go into the matter concerning Seven."

"Why do you feel like we should discuss other matters first, Regent?" Kira asked. "Isn't the allegiance of the second most powerful person in the Alliance an important enough issue to be dealt with first?"

Before Worf could respond to the questions asked by Kira B'elanna rose up in his defense. "The matter concerning Seven is very important. Even I'll admit to that. But shouldn't we focus our minds and our energy on our real foe, the Romulans, first?" Directly the question was for Kira to answer, but indirectly it was meant for all of the delegates. Knowing what would probably happen to her friend once the matter was talked in depth over B'elanna felt it necessary to try and delay that moment as long as possible. Plus, she didn't want anyone to lose what the real focus of this meeting was.

"I won't try and say that the issues involving the Romulans are any less important overall," Kira said, trying to be as friendly as possible, "but I think we all need to know who we can trust in our cause against the Romulans. If not then this will all have been in vain."

"I agree with the Bajoran Intendant," Rakln suddenly spoke up, surprising the rest of the delegates that he would so openly agree with Kira so early into the proceedings. "It needs to be decided whether or not the Overseer can be trusted with the knowledge of our tactics against the Romulans."

"Very well," said Worf, hoping that by discussing the matter with Seven first he would be able to make the arguments between the delegates as few and far between as possible. "If there are any questions that need to be asked on the matter with Seven then now is the time to ask."

"If I may go first," Rakln asked as he looked around the room for any objections. After seeing none he continued. "These security tapes that we were shown are a very convincing piece of evidence. In them we can clearly see that it was a Terran woman and not a Cardassian woman who killed Kai Winn. What I want to know is how are we expected to believe that this figure is indeed Overseer Seven? While the assassin does have the same physical characteristics as she did three years ago, I saw no concrete proof that it was her. It can just as easily be believed that Kai Winn was killed by some other Terran woman."

"You raise a good point, general." Duren said as he stood up to address the Breen general's concerns. "Yes, the tape is a little vague. And yes, the woman in the tapes could just as easily be a different Terran woman. But I have two facts that I'd like to present that might clear up this small bit of confusion. The first thing I shall mention is that it would have been a lot easier for Seven to assassinate the kai over any other Terran, as so few of them aren't under lock and key."

"Opportunity doesn't breed motive Duren," B'elanna said in response.

"This is true Intendant. However, I believe that everyone is forgetting that we have two pieces of evidence against the Overseer." With that Duren turned his gaze on Ziyal, who sat nervously by Dukat. "Do not forget that this girl here was present during those events and knows firsthand of Seven's guilt."

"Was she there in the kai's office when the murder took place?" the normally quiet Natima Lang asked.

"Well no," Duren said with a little hesitation as he tried to see a way through Natima's question. "But she was in the same building on the day of the murder as well as the days leading up to it, when Seven asked some very suspicious questions concerning the building's security."

"The fact remains that she saw nothing and therefore her testimony is meaningless. Besides, why would we believe the lies of the half mongrel daughter of a traitor to the state?"

"Let me tell you something...." Dukat started to say as he rose before Duren quickly sat him back down and shook his head.

"Delegates, please. I think we are straying from the topic." A soothing tone had accompanied Kira's words and she tried to show a sympathetic look on her face for reasons anyone could guess at. "We needn't bicker amongst ourselves about whether or not we can trust Ziyal. She is not the one who's loyalties are in question."

"So you say that you can not trust me, yet you rally that Ziyal's word is to be believed without question?" Seven asked as she finally said something in her defense. "What are your motives behind that?"

"I didn't say that Ziyal's words should be blindly followed. I'm simply trying to say that this girl's word is irrelevant at the moment and that we need to focus on Seven's word."

"Her word is not so irrelevant when her word might decide what happens to me."

"Whether Ziyal is telling the truth or not is irrelevant though because she didn't see anything." Standing there having agreed with Kira for a second time some doubt was cast in the direction of the stalwart Breen general. "Her testimony is no more useful than one given by anyone else on the planet that day. Only one person knows for certain who killed Kai Winn, and whether that person is Seven or not is the issue at hand. Other than that we have only these security tapes to go on."

"What of these tapes exactly, Duren? How do we know that these weren't manufactured by yourself and that traitor to help vindicate him and his daughter? After all, I don't recall you ever mentioning where you got them from. What is to say that this isn't all just some elaborate hoax created only to serve the purpose of destroying the leadership of this council for your own petty gains?"

"I can assure you that the tapes are real," Tierzak said to Natima. "My contact was very thorough in identifying them to be genuine."

"And who is your contact?" Natima asked of the Ferengi.

"That is something I can't tell."

"Well then you see my problem Tierzak. Both pieces of evidence that you and Duren have provided are far too unreliable for the Cardassian people to put enough stock in to believe."

"I will admit that our evidence is not as solid as some of you delegates may prefer, but is that any excuse to dismiss it so quickly? Look at Seven's face and think back to everything that has been shown and told to you over the past few days. Is that face of someone you can trust, let alone hold the second highest position in the Alliance? Whether you might believe it to be true or not the fact is that she killed someone for no reason. She may have killed others. I for one can't trust her to make such important decisions for the Alliance."

"Even if she did kill Kai Winn, I still see no reason to make such a question about her loyalty." Martok spoke up for the so far quiet Klingon delegation. "After everything that I have seen and heard I still see no connection between Kai Winn's assassination and the Romulan War, which is what should be the focus here."

"Don't you see Martok? Don't any of you see that she committed a serious offense when she murdered Kai Winn and someone of that character could easily commit another, this time which could have serious consequences for us all? The connection, my dear Klingon friend, is that if she could do as something as big as assassinate the Bajoran leader and not even be suspected then who is to say that she won't ultimately do something to aide the Romulans in destroying the Alliance? Who is to say that she hasn't done so already? I mean, how else could the Romulans have found out about the Q'osk V shipyard as, well as a dozen other installations were it not for help from some high ranking Alliance member?"

"And why are you such a big supporter of Duren's plans, Kira? You hated Kai Winn, so why are you trying so hard to find her real killer?" Natima asked the Bajoran Intendant. When a response wasn't given she added, "Does this have something to do with you losing the Overseer position two years ago?"

"The only thing this has to do with is ensuring that the Alliance is not destroyed by a traitor. Look at her everyone. She is a Terran for Prophet's sake! I may be confused, but aren't the Terrans are enemies? How can we allow one to hold such a high position?"

"I am half Terran," B'elanna suddenly said. "Should I be equally condemned because of my heritage?"

"If you have murdered someone in cold blood then yes you should be. The point I'm trying to make isn't that Seven can't be trusted because of her heritage, but because of her past actions."

"Enough!" Regent Worf suddenly said having had enough of everyone's bickering. "All we are doing here is bringing up useless points and arguing in circles. You all have seen and heard every bit of evidence against Seven. If there is nothing more substantial that needs saying then I think we should put a vote on whether she is to be tried on the crime of treason or not." He looked around the room and saw no one object to the course of action. "Do you have any problem with that Duren?" he asked, wanting to make sure nothing further was to be brought up.

"We have nothing further to add, Regent." He said with confidence as he sat down.

"Very well. Before the vote is called for I feel that one last chance needs to be given to Seven to say anything in her defense." Worf then turned and looked at Seven and gave a nod before sitting down. In response she slowly rose.

Carefully Seven looked over each delegate who had assembled in the cavernous meeting hall and slowly chose each word, knowing they may soon decide her fate. After a deep breath and a wetting of her lips she began. "I know that the evidence that Duren and his associates have presented is compelling, and forces everyone to cast doubt on me, but when has that doubt not been cast on me? Because I am a Terran doubt was automatically placed on me. Because my people were your enemies I was automatically considered to be your enemy. But I am not your enemy. For two years I have served as your Overseer and has anything gone wrong during that time? Have any of you seen anything to cause you to doubt me outside of my race? The true enemy of the Alliance is the Romulans, not me. There will be claims of my allegiances from now until the time when I am only remembered in history books. Should we really allow the time to pause and spend our time and focus on a threat created only by those looking to blame others for things that are not to their liking? You have seen the evidence and now you must decided if Duren is right, if I should be removed from my seat of power. I would just like to add that if you do vote against me then I will accept it with grace. The real concern of mine is seeing that the Alliance is not destroyed by an enemy, whether that enemy is Romulan or someone from within. And if you think the Alliance will grow stronger with my departure then I welcome that." With that she sat down and gave a rather noble appearance as she awaited her fate.

"All right," Worf said as he started to rise. "As before a vote will now be called. This time we will start with the Breen delegation and move around the room clockwise."

Slowly General Rakln rose up from his seat and looked at Seven before delivering the Breen vote. "The Breen delegation votes to remove Seven from the seat of Overseer. We still have questions concerning the evidence that Duren has provided and therefore questions about Seven. Until our questions are answered we do not feel comfortable about leaving her in such a high position."

After Rakln sat down and everyone was given a moment to let his words soak in Martok stood up. "The Klingon delegation also votes to remove Seven from power. Whether or not she killed Kai Winn is not the real reason we have gone through all of this and we feel that the true matter, whether we can trust her in our war with the Romulans, is of big enough concern to take her out of such an influential position." Shock ran through a few people's minds as none expected the Klingons to vote against Seven. That shock was quickly put out of their minds though as Natima rose to cast the Cardassian vote.

"The Cardassian delegation votes to remove Seven from power. There has been a lot tossed around here at this conference to make anyone skeptical of Seven's true motives and her true allegiances, but we believe none of it. Words of a traitor and tapes fabricated by a conspirator will not deter our beliefs in the slightest. The fact though is that we have never fully trusted her and with things as they are now we can not allow her to remain in power any longer." As Natima sat down shock splashed through everyone's mind once more. The vote was already three against Seven and neither the Bajoran or Ferengi delegations had cast their vote yet.

Next Kira rose up to cast a vote. She looked all round the room for a moment but for some reason didn't look at Seven, whether by accident or will no one was sure. "None of you may believe the evidence we have been shown here, but I for one do. I believe that Seven did in fact kill Kai Winn and that forces me to no longer trust her with the Alliance's most important decisions. Therefore the Bajoran delegation votes to remove Seven from power."

Last to vote was once again the Ferengi delegation. Also once again they hadn't made a single noise while everyone else had spent so much time arguing the matter amongst themselves. They seemed to enjoy being left out of the political struggles and simply being there to reap the benefits of whatever decision was made. "We have spent the past two days carefully going over the evidence against Seven and listening to everyone's questions today." Zek said in his high nasal voice. "Not everything on this matter is clear, but one thing is very clear to us. That thing is simply that we cannot trust Seven with our most important decisions. Therefore we must vote for her to be removed from power."

Five votes and all of them were casted against Seven. Duren couldn't help but to smile a little bit as his plan came full circle and he was given such a complete victory. He had worked long and hard on his plan to remove Seven from power for well over a year now, and finally it had come to fruition. Part of him wanted to cry out in joy not so much for the fact that Seven had been beaten, but because it was his brilliance and Tierzak's ingenuity that had beaten her. Leaning back in his chair with a feeling of long due accomplishment something odd caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look he noticed that Kira was looking back at him from across the meeting hall. As their eyes met she simply winked at him before letting a mischievous smile show on her face.

A unanimous vote. B'elanna just couldn't believe it, and she was having a hard time letting the fact soak in. She had known that Duren had some strong evidence, but she didn't believe that the delegates would believe in it so strongly. Seven had never shown anything but loyalty towards the Alliance, and now this is how she was to be repaid? At that moment the realization of the vote sunk in and all she could do was look on her Terran friend with sadness as she knew what was to become of her.

Seven had remained a majestic pillar, even after the votes had been cast. She knew being a Terran caused others in the Alliance to have doubts when it came to her. This fact had been a constant all throughout her life. The fact that the delegates had just condemned her did not surprise her, though she didn't expect for all five of them to go against her. In the end though did it matter at all whether one had voted against her or all five? She knew that they were all becoming worried about the war with the Romulans and they had to find someone to blame those worries on. Who better than the Terran in the high seat of power? Either way though she knew that her fate had been sealed on this day, but she vowed that her life would not end on it too.

Worf looked over at Seven for a moment and was surprised to see her sitting there so calmly. He knew that the charges brought about her would ultimately lead to her execution, and she must have known that as well. Yet she still sat there as though nothing could affect her. A kind of sadness made its way into his being. Seven was a Terran, and yet at times he couldn't help but to think of her as something else. In those times all he could think of her as was a friend. Now though the time for their friendship had run out. "Guards," Worf said before two Klingon soldiers promptly appeared. "Take the Overseer and put her in a holding cell," he said, trying to hide any emotion from his voice, but doing a poor job of it. Promptly the two soldiers took hold of Seven and escorted her out of the room. She said nothing and only looked at B'elanna, telling her in some way that everything would be all right, before walking out of the room and out of everyone's fears.

"Now that that matter has been settled, should we not talk about the Romulan threat?" Martok said the moment Seven was gone. In his mind everything leading up to this moment had been a waste of time and he was anxious to get to the important matter at hand.

"Before we get ahead of ourselves shouldn't we talk about what is to be done with Seven?"

"There is nothing to talk about, Kira. Seven is a traitor and a Terran. If she is lucky enough to escape a firing squad then she will live out her days in a dilithium mine." Natima said as though she was speaking of a piece of garbage that was to be tossed rather than a living, breathing person.

"Still though, shouldn't we at least decide on something final?"

"Haven't we wasted enough time on her?" Martok said with impatience and disgust. "There is a real threat out there from the Romulans, and if we ignore them and focus all our time on a pointless matters like what to do with a traitor then we will be ill prepared when they come for us."

"I agree that we should discuss the Romulan situation," Rakln suddenly spoke up. "But since the matter with Seven is still fresh should we not deal with that first once and for all?"

Worf couldn't believe it. The matter with Seven had been resolved, or at least he had thought it had been, and yet the delegates were still fighting. It was hard to imagine that these people who acted like children were the ones running the Alliance. There was not a single issue that could be brought up that they wouldn't argue on, and Worf had grown weary of it. It had almost gotten to the point where he wished that there was some way he could shed his political garb and return to the glory days when he was commanding a ship in battle. Those days were behind him though, and he just had to tolerate the days that were ahead of him.

"Silence!" Worf suddenly shouted at the bickering delegates. Quickly they each quieted down and looked at him with their full attention. "We have dealt with Seven for the moment. Right now we should focus back onto the main goal of this conference, the war with the Romulans. Too much time has been wasted on half-truths and finger pointing so far and nothing significant has been accomplished. Once we deal with every item on the list then we can discuss what is to be done with Seven. Agreed?" His gaze swept the room to make sure that there was no opposition to his plan. When he saw none he continued. "Now, where should we begin?" he asked as he began to look over a P.A.D.D. with a list of topics.

Suddenly the doors behind where Worf and B'elanna were seated burst open. A burly looking Klingon officer came marching in and stopped just beside the Regent. "Sir, there is something you should know." he said after a crisp salute.

"What now?" Worf said, not even trying to show his displeasure at having something new interrupt the conference. The officer bent down beside Worf and whispered the news to him. His eyes grew wide for a moment and suddenly everyone's curiosity was caught at what was being said. Worf then muttered something to the officer before he rushed back out the doors. "Apparently there is someone else that wishes to address this council," he said to the delegates before he gestured to the center as a figured appeared from the same hallway that Duren had come from two days earlier.

The tall figure made his way towards the center of the room to address the delegates. Though he walked with obvious pain he still seemed to have an invincible air about him. His uniform as well as his visible features were Klingon, but no one could tell right away who he was. As he walked he looked down towards the ground and his shoulder length hair covered his face from view. When he reached the room's center he stood there for a moment as if waiting for something, before bringing his head up and letting his face come into view as his hair fell back. The entire room took in a gasping breath as they all saw who it was.

"Commander Koltarn!" B'elanna shouted. Though she was the one to say his name in surprise the rest of the room's crowd shared in that shock. She then continued expressing the room's feelings as she asked the question that was present in all of their minds. "But how? I thought you were dead."

"I was close to it, Intendant, but I stand here before each of you with a new resolve and a startling truth." Koltarn's voice gave another sign of pain, but a fleeting one. A few still healing wounds could be seen and it was apparent that he had just come off of some nightmarish ordeal. "If I may Regent," he addressed Worf, wanting the Regent's approval before continuing on.

"Of course," Worf said to the Klingon soldier. There was a sort of excited energy in Worf now that replaced the weary frustration that he had felt moments before. Koltarn was a soldier which he had given a lot of respect. Ever since contact had been lost with him and his team on the Delpox II mission Worf had feared the worst for one of the Alliance's best. Then there was all the talk of traitors the past few days and Seven's claims that Koltarn must have been the one to give the Romulans information had made him feel even more unsettled. To see Koltarn standing before him alive and well for the most part gave Worf a bit of relief and a new hope as one of the greatest soldiers in the Alliance had come back from the grave to fight for their cause once more.

"Delegates," Koltarn started as addressed everyone in the room. "I'm sure that many of you have questions concerning me at the moment. If you will all ignore those for the moment, there is a larger issue at hand. I will say one thing though. During my month long imprisonment in a Romulan camp I was tortured and abused in ways that no one would dare wish to think about. In all this time it would have been easy for me to just accept defeat and die in that camp, or worse yet reveal something to my captors. But I persevered. I knew that the Alliance depended on me and I fought with every bit of pride and courage and honor one person could own. Though the ordeal was grueling, I survived with all three of these things intact, and in that time I learned something."

Koltarn took a slight pause to gather his thoughts and look out at the crowd. Each person in the crowd was sitting on the edge of their seat, hanging onto every word of his in anticipation. He smiled a little bit, but not in the same way Duren had when he was the one addressing the council. No, this smile was caused simply by the fact that Koltarn felt like he had finally come home.

"En route here I learned about what has happened in the war recently and about the mindset that everyone is in. With the recent turn in the tide of war against us it was only natural to assume that the Romulans were getting help from somewhere. Then, when the shipyard at Q'osk V was attacked and destroyed, one of the most highly kept secrets in the Alliance, it became all but a certainty that they were getting information from some inside source. But who? That was the question in all of your minds, and instead of trying to get to the bottom of who that source was you began to point fingers of mistrust at each other; which is exactly what the Romulans wanted."

"I don't mean to offend you Koltarn," Kira said, breaking into the soldier's words, "but we already discovered who the traitor was."

"Are you for certain of that Intendant?" Koltarn asked as he turned to look Kira. Their eyes met for a second and Kira got the feeling that she should remain quiet until Koltarn finished addressing the delegates. "I also know of what happened here the other day and how Seven was condemned as a traitor to the state. Though I do not know what your final decision on the matter was I can guess, since I do not see her presence anywhere in this room." He paused for a moment, gaining both effect and breath, before continuing. "I do not pretend to know Seven's past sins nor will I pretend to know her present ones. Being Terran I'm sure she made for the easy target in your witch-hunt for a traitor today, but I do not believe she is the one who betrayed us to the Romulans. No, I found someone who I know to have helped the Romulans against us, and it is no one you might think."

Tension in the room rose to a new height as everyone felt like screaming at the Klingon soldier the question of who. Having just gone through the ordeal of convicting Seven they had felt satisfied that the information leak had been plugged, and now suddenly Koltarn had risen from the grave and told them they were wrong. The whole thing seemed like pure lunacy, and they demanded to know what was going on.

Koltarn turned his gaze and with his so did everyone else's. He was looking back at the hallway where he had appeared from, and no one could figure out why. Suddenly three more figures appeared from the doorway and made their way to the room's center. The first was another Klingon soldier, Commander Mulkrit. Another highly decorated Klingon officer and one who had become sadly distant ever since the loss of Lyca Station last year. The other soldier of the three was Breen, and not one that anyone instantly recognized. It was first realized by General Rakln, then by everyone else a heartbeat later, the Breen soldier was Captain Zelbreghn. Complete and dumbfounded feelings swarmed through each delegate, who hardly believed that what they were seeing was real any longer. First the assumed dead soldier of Koltarn had marched his way back into existence, and now Zelbreghn had performed the same trick. They were completely dumbstruck, but little did they know that the biggest surprise lay in the third figure.

Between Mulkrit and Zelbreghn a third figure had been pushed with them to the room's center. His hands were bound and a piece of material had been put over his head, making it impossible for anyone to know what species he was, let alone who. Once the three figures reached the center Koltarn grabbed the material on the third figure's head and looked back at the delegates for a moment. "This is who your traitor is," Koltarn said declaratively before pulling off the material and revealing the blue toned face of General Shrelik."

"An Andorian!" Worf said suddenly standing up as gasps came from every person present. "Where did you find him at?"

"This Andorian was one of the interrogators at the prison where Zelbreghn and I were being held. Obviously he or another of his kind is the one who helped the Romulans to discover the shipyard at Q'osk V and a number of our other bases." Koltarn paused for a moment and let the revelation sink into everyone's mind before adding the last bit of important information he felt that everyone needed to know. "In case some of you don't know who this Andorian is, his name is Shrelik. Before the Great Andorian Massacre he held the rank of general in the Andorian Imperial Guard and was one of their highest decorated soldier's."

Standing there looking at the blue face of Shrelik Worf began to put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. It all made sense to him. Who better to betray the Alliance than a former ally? Especially one who had betrayed his imzadi, Deanna. With someone who had as much tactical knowledge about the Alliance as Shrelik it suddenly made sense how the Romulans had suddenly gained such an advantage. Only one thing stuck out in his mind though. "How are you still alive? It has been three years since the Great Andorian Massacre and not a single one of your people has been seen since. I had assumed that all of your people had been wiped out."

"Arrogant Klingon fool," Shrelik said in response. "Did you actually think you could wipe us all out? How small minded you have become." Mulkrit suddenly gave Shrelik a quick thump to his skull with the back of his hand and Shrelik stumbled with an oomph.

As the pieces about Shrelik and his betrayal began to be put together in Worf's mind he suddenly realized something else. If the Andorian before him was truly the one who had given the Alliance away to the Romulans then what about Seven? "Guard," he quickly said and the burly Klingon officer made a snappy return. "Go and get the Overseer and bring her back here." As the officer rushed out Worf saw how many of the delegates stared at him in confusement about his order. "If Shrelik is the Alliance's traitor then surely Seven must be vindicated," he said to them. Few in the crowd supported that idea, but at the moment they were too busy trying to sort everything out to argue the point.

While the officer went to retrieve Seven the delegates began to talk amongst themselves, trying to fit everything together and understand what exactly had gone on. After a delay of untold lengths the officer returned to Worf's side alone. Quickly he bent down and whispered something in the Regent's ear.

"Where is she?" Worf said to the officer. "What? Are you positive? Get someone on it then," were the phrases that came from Worf before the officer hurried out of the room once more. Slowly Worf stood up and took the entire scene before him in one sweeping gaze before relaying to the delegates what had happened. "Seven is gone." A few gasps and hushed mutterings could be heard which caused Worf to pause momentarily in his explanation. With a lifting of his hand the crowd silenced and prepared themselves for Worf's next words. "Apparently after being placed in a holding cell several of her crewmembers killed the guards and helped her to escape. They managed to get all the way to her docked ship before anyone noticed. Roughly ten minutes ago Seven departed from the dock and set a course for an unknown destination." Immediately everyone filled up again with confusion and panic, everyone but Worf. While they all saw this as an opportunity for more chaos to breed he saw it as one more shining example to stress order. "My fellow delegates, no my fellow soldiers, I want you to remember what has happened at these proceedings. Remember how easily a few convenient words can turn us upon each other and blind us to our real threat, to the Romulan threat. It is in those green-blooded bodies that beats the heart of our true enemy. We must not allow petty differences and misunderstandings to come between us anymore. With the help of Shrelik and the Andorian survivors the Romulans are marching in a campaign fiercer then ever before. If we do not take this opportunity to unite against them in opposition then surely we shall fall into oblivion. I ask you my brothers and sisters in arms to stand with me in the face of the coming twilight. Let no more divisions be drawn between us. Let us stand as a united front against the Romulans and let us beat back the night until nothing but day is all that shall remain. Are you with me?" The reply wasn't instant, but with the lead of Koltarn and his two comrades the room was soon filled with rallied cries.

As everyone else cheered for the downfall of the Romulans B'elanna couldn't help but to sit in silence and go over everything that had happened the past couple of days. It all seemed like some sort of dream. Between the attack that she had been through on her way here, to all the accusations that had been tossed around, to the revelations that had happened today with Koltarn and Shrelik. She couldn't help but to be left feeling a little nervous by everything. Listening to the rallied cheers as they echoed throughout the cavernous chamber B'elanna hoped that her ill feelings were unjustified and that she had just lived through her darkest days. She hoped that the knowledge about Shrelik and the other Andorians was enough to finally end all the bickering and fighting amongst the leaders of the Alliance and she hoped that they would finally be able to be a completely united front against the Romulans. As she looked up Worf took her hand and brought him to stand next to him. Looking out at the crowd only one last hope came to her mind. B'elanna thought of Seven, and she hoped that her actions had not just proven that everyone had been right about her all along.


	15. The March Forward

_Chapter Fifteen: The March Forward_

Mission  
Four months after the Narendra Conference and the revelations that were brought to light there the Alliance finds the tide of war favoring them once again. As part of a fierce new campaign to help bring about the war's end Koltarn is given command of a Negh'Var class vessel and is sent to destroy one of the Romulan's most fortified shipyards.  
Mission Date:  
233rd day in the 2369th of Molar

"My brothers and sisters in arms, on this day I bring more glorious news to you of our campaign against the Romulans. As of sixteen hundred hours yesterday, the Romulan supply depots in the Trelex sector were destroyed by a combined Klingon/Breen task force. In the battle eight Breen vessels and fifteen Klingon vessels were destroyed. That means that nearly a third of the soldiers sent on this mission lost their lives. But let their deaths not cause a moment's hesitation in your mind, for they died in battle! They died with the honor that we can only pray we are bestowed when we too meet our fate. I know these past four months have been trying, and the casualty lists keep growing and growing, but look at what we have achieved! Since the realization of the Andorian support to the Romulans we have launched ourselves in a march forward that is unparalleled to any such march throughout the entire course of the war. For all that we have lost in this war we have made the Romulans pay for. In the past four months for every death they caused we struck back and killed three of them. Before learning of the Andorian survivors the tide of war was against us, and even threatened to overtake us completely. Because of your dedication that is no longer the case. Now it is we who have the advantage, and it is an advantage that must be pressed. We are on the brink of ending this war once and for all, and that end will be in our favor. But only if we resolve to not let our new found energy go by the wayside. Truly these coming days are those that will be remembered forever in song! The strength each soldier has shown has made me proud to be your Regent, and I know that my pride will not fade away so long as we remember those that have died at the hands of the Romulans and fight with every breath to make sure those sacrifices were not in vain. Let it be forever told of how in the face of near defeat the Alliance came back to crush their Romulan foe. Q'apla!" With that the image of Worf faded on the screen, but the words he said did not fade from the minds of those that heard it.

As the transmission ended Koltarn leaned back in the captain's chair and wondered if such a dramatic flair was necessary. He supposed that in times of war such a thing was, and as he looked around his bridge at the crewmembers that were present it did seem to have had a positive effect. In the daunting days of war when all one faces is death one tends to need a stirring speech like the one Worf had just given to stir feelings of hope and belief that all the bloody sacrifices were not in vain. Though he accepted that such inspiring exaggerations were necessary for morale he couldn't bring himself to like the fact. Perhaps the reason was because he saw the truth of what was going on in the war. Perhaps it was because he had seen too much of the harsh reality of war to see any silver lining left.

Sitting there in silence Koltarn's attention suddenly turned to the man who stood to his right. A man whom he had only known by vague reputation a few short months ago, but was now one of his closest friends. Being a decorated commander was enough to gain Koltarn's respect, but what he had done for him on Carraya IV had earned Mulkrit his trust and his friendship.

"Commander Koltarn sir," a voice said in front of the Klingon commander. When Koltarn turned he saw a young officer standing before him holding a P.A.D.D. out just in front of his face. "They're orders from Regent Worf himself." the officer explained. Carefully Koltarn took the P.A.D.D. and gave a gracious nod to the officer before he went back to whatever duties he was on before.

Reading over the P.A.D.D. Koltarn could feel his friend grow anxious next to him. Since their sudden arrival at the Narendra Conference neither of them had seen much action. Mulkrit's ship, the Sompek, had been thrown into battle the moment their glorious new campaign had begun and after three daring strikes at Romulan targets had managed to limp its way back to Kendra Alpha where it still was being given last minute repairs. Koltarn had been denied even one battle since his miraculous 'resurrection'. Being one of the few prisoners of war to be recovered from Romulan hands, someone had decided that he was to be given plenty of time to recover from any trauma that may have been caused by his imprisonment. Some treatment for a soldier who had been declared a hero, though Koltarn wondered if that honor was only bestowed upon him because it was thought he had died on an important and glorious mission for the Alliance. Either way, he could hold no grudge as things were finally starting to look up. With his recent installation as commander aboard the new Negh'Var ship, the Kri'stak, and the orders that had just been handed him it looked as though he was to finally get the action he so rightly deserved.

Standing beside Koltarn as he read over the P.A.D.D. Mulkrit grew curious as to what it might contain. With it coming directly from the Regent it undoubtedly contained orders for whatever mission the Kri'stak was to be sent on. He was anxious for his new friend to finally be given the chance to prove to everyone that the month he spent as a Romulan captive did nothing to lessen his resolve against their green-blooded foe. In fact, it had increased if anything. And to be given the command of a mighty Negh'Var class vessel whose paint was barely dry and had not been given the chance to leave Kendra Alpha was truly what Mulkrit thought that Koltarn was in need of to help give him a push back into the throes of war.

When Koltarn finished reading over their orders he rested the P.A.D.D. in his lap for a moment and simply stared ahead in thought, absorbing the information that had just been given to him. Knowing that simply sitting there in silence would accomplish nothing he decided that the best course of action was to inform Mulkrit of what was expected of them. Turning to Mulkrit he looked at the stalwart soldier as he rose from his chair. After another moment of him silently looking at the Klingon officer to whom he called friend he simply said, "Let us speak of this in the war room." before turning away and heading to one of the rooms adjacent to the bridge.

Quickly Mulkrit followed Koltarn into the Kri'stak's war room, wondering exactly what the orders were and why they might be relevant to him. When he entered the large room set off of the bridge he immediately noticed that Kotarn had taken a chair directly opposite of a black view screen and had laid the P.A.D.D. on the long metal table in front of him.

"Do you need anything to drink?" Koltarn asked of his guest as he gestured over to the room's replicator set in the far wall.

For a moment Mulkrit hesitated and thought well over the question before answering. His decision was finally made when he noticed that Koltarn had gotten nothing for himself. If the matter to be discussed was something that Koltarn would rather talk about dry then certainly he should do the same. "No," Mulkrit said graciously, "all I would like is to know what exactly is on that P.A.D.D."

Carefully Koltarn picked the P.A.D.D. back up off the table and glanced over it as though he thought another read of it would make a difference before continuing further. After he had apparently finished he gently placed the device back down and began to tap a few buttons on the table next to him. Suddenly the view screen across from him came to life with a map of where Alliance space met that of the Romulans. Keying a few more buttons made the image zoom in closer to the part of the border that had seen action since the Narendra Conference.

Taking a step towards the screen, Mulkrit looked over the regions that were displayed for any clue as to why Koltarn chose to bring this area of space up and how it tied in with the new orders he had just been given. Not giving up easily he stared for several moments and scrutinized every little sector of space that was shown, but it was to no avail. Reluctantly he stepped away from what was being displayed and simply turned around to Koltarn with an expectant look on his face.

"Since the Narendra Conference ended and our new campaign began," Koltarn started to say, briefly looking at Mulkrit before focusing his attention on the view screen and the map it displayed, "we have focused our main forces in this region. As well we should. The area that we have been sending our forces is a rather large one, stretching across both the Klingon and the Cardassian parts of the border with the Romulans. As you can see from this map our forces have pushed on two different fronts." Taking a pause Koltarn tapped a few more buttons on the panel beside him and the screen suddenly highlighted two regions on the map. "Our forces have pressed the Romulans mainly from these two staging areas: the Kresh'nar sector up by the Cardassian border and the Dalaneb sector down in Klingon space. While both these advances have proven well for us and been able to be pushed well into the Romulan side of the border there has been a place along the border that has been overlooked. And that place we can no longer afford to do so."

With the new information given to him by Koltarn Mulkrit once again looked at the map. Noticing where the two task forces had advanced into Romulan space Mulkrit followed the Romulan border to the middle of these points and did indeed notice a part of Romulan held space that seemed to jut out like a peninsula in a sea of Alliance controlled territories. Talking a step closer he slowly read over what Romulan possessions were located in this area of space. When he saw the name of what lay there he quietly read it out loud without even thinking about doing so. "Heyati II."

"And that my friend is our target," Koltarn said as Mulkrit realized what their orders were.

"Heyati II," Mulkrit repeated it as though he could hardly believe the fact. "That's one of the Romulans most fortified shipyards. Hundreds of their ships are built and worked on there each week."

"I know," Koltarn said trying to reassure his friend that he full well knew what they would be up against. "That is why we have left it alone for as long as we have. But my friend, we can ill afford to do so any longer. Regent Worf was right in that we are on a march forward against the Romulans right now that will probably only be ended by the Romulans defeat. I ask you, if we are to defeat them then can we really allow such a large facility to operate so close to our border any longer?"

Leaning forward with his hands gripped onto a chair Mulkrit thought over Koltarn's words carefully. They made sense in the fact that Heyati II's destruction was something that must eventually be done. But for them to do it? That fact he was still a bit hesitant on.

Looking across the table into Mulkrit's eyes Koltarn could immediately see the doubt and hesitation that were surely welling up within the Klingon commander. He couldn't blame Mulkrit for harboring such feelings. After all, he was guilty of feeling them a bit himself. Neither of them could have such feelings held against them though because that was just part of the game they played as commanding officers during wartime. The real test was what they did with those feelings. If they were to let such feelings bother and consume them then surely they would lose their lives, as probably would their crew as well. But if they conquered such feelings and rose to meet the challenge that lay before them, well that was how legends were born.

"Well," Mulkrit started as he turned back towards the map, "if we are to attack Heyati II then at least tell me we won't be doing so alone."

"No, not at all Mulkrit," Koltarn replied as he pushed the P.A.D.D. across the table to where Mulkrit stood. "They're sending us with every ship currently here at Kendra Alpha."

"Every ship?" At the statement Mulkrit felt a little more comfortable about their odds, but he gave no sign of a change until he felt sure about their odds. In his mind he thought over what ships were currently at Kendra Alpha and began to count them to try and estimate how big their task force would be. "There's our two Negh'Vars, about two dozen Vor'Chas, and probably close to four dozen K'Vort bird-of-preys. That's about sixty vessels in total," Mulkrit said to Koltarn out of a sense of formality than anything else. "Those odds I like more than two against whatever horde the Romulans have stashed at Heyati II, but still it will be a tough battle to win."

"Do you doubt that our honor will prevail?" Koltarn asked of Mulkrit stone-faced and in a curious tone.

"Certainly not," Mulkrit shot back, thinking for a moment that his friend had just insulted him, but knowing better when he saw a slight grin just barely peek out the corner of Koltarn's mouth.

"Good to know," Koltarn casually said in a tone that made Mulkrit immediately relax. "What if I were to tell you that the odds will favor us even more?"

"Oh?" was all Mulkrit could say in response, anxious to hear what Koltarn meant.

"Apparently since we have blatantly ignored the facility the Romulans must believe that we have forgotten about it completely. A smug belief of safety as well as the need for their interests to lie elsewhere has diverted a great many of their vessels away from the Heyati sector, leaving only a handful of warbirds left to guard the shipyard."

"And exactly how many are left?" Mulkrit asked, beginning to get just a little excited about finally being able to take out the Heyati II shipyard.

"Two dozen. Perhaps three. Plus who knows how many fighters, but they'll cause as much trouble as a glob fly."

Only three-dozen warbirds had been left at the Heyati II shipyard? And they were sending about six-dozen vessels to destroy it? "We'll out number them two to one." Mulkrit blurted out the obvious.

"Those three dozen will most likely all be D'Deridex class warbirds, a tough match against our forces. That is why we are getting a force that numbers double of what they will have. It will help to level the playing field."

"True." Walking back towards the map Mulkrit took another hard look at the Heyati sector, a sector that had been a thorn in their side since nearly the war's start nine years ago. The Romulan's had always had that shipyard so well guarded so as the Alliance could not even dare to dream attacking it. Why now would they leave it seemingly abandoned? This question was one that bothered Mulkrit up until the fact that he actually asked it of Koltarn.

Looking across the table at Mulkrit Koltarn knew what his friend's question would be before he even asked it. He knew about it because it was a question that he had himself the moment he read how many vessels were at Heyati II. When he realized the question's answer he almost felt stupid, but simply shrugged it off as he realized it was all part of their leaders' self-proclaimed genius.

"Do you know why we are being sent on this mission at this time?" Mulkrit thought about the question for a moment, but could only respond with a slight shake of his head no. Leaning forward Koltarn continued. "Why would we be sent on this mission when less than twenty-four hours has passed since there was an Alliance attack on Romulan supply depots?"

Taking in the question Mulkrit once again turned to look at the map being displayed. First he took note of where the Heyati sector was, then he looked at the Trelex sector. When he found both he looked at how far apart they were. The Trelex sector was several light years away and nearly on the opposite end of the map from the Heyati sector. What possibly could be the connection between the two sectors? "The Trelex sector is light years away." Mulkrit said over his shoulder to Koltarn. "Why would our attack in that system be of any consequence to our attack on Heyati II? After all, it would take several days to travel from..." Mulkrit's words trailed off as the obvious suddenly hit him. Turning quickly around he looked at Koltarn and found a smile just barely make its way from the corner of his friend's mouth.

"The Heyati II shipyards have been left unguarded because their forces have been sent to stave off our advance in the Trelex sector." Koltarn said to Mulkrit to help his friend confirm that what he had just realized was true.

"Then the attack on the supply depots were just a diversion?"

"Well that attack will help us in a small way, but yes it was. This way the bulk of the Romulan fleet is far enough away from the Heyati sector that by the time they can come to affect aid it will be far too late."

A triumphant grin flashed on Mulkrit's face as he realized how truly inspiring this plan was. All throughout the war the Romulans had always flaunted what seemed to be a superior tactical mind. Many times they had been able to outwit the Alliance, and each time it had cost the Alliance dearly. For a second his mind drifted back to a moment just one year old aboard the now destroyed Lyca Station. In his hands he could feel the delicate yet beautiful frame of his beloved T'Jal and he could see that last smile she had bravely shown before his departure. His hand became a fist that tightened its grip at the memory and the knowledge that the Romulans had tricked their forces to guard Kendra Alpha while they secretly planned to destroy Lyca Station. Now it would be their turn, his turn, to outwit the Romulans and strike at them unexpectedly. He vowed though that there would be a difference, his strike would be one the Romulans couldn't bounce so easily back from.

Watching the sudden change in Mulkrit's mood Koltarn wondered for a moment what might have prompted it. Then as if he could read his friend's mind he realized that it dealt with T'Jal, the Bajoran commander of Lyca Station that Mulkrit had grown fond of. While Koltarn had not known the Klingon officer for very long he did know of the anguish Mulkrit had felt at losing the Bajoran woman. It was a story every officer could sympathize with in this war, the story of dead loved ones and the trouble they had at continuing the fight. Koltarn though sensed that his friend's story was a little different. He felt as though maybe Mulkrit and T'Jal had shared a deeper connection than one either would admit to having in the throes of war.

A silent moment passed as both Klingons sat there in thought. Finally, after seeing a time readout on the wall and noticing how fast time was slipping by, Koltarn broke that silence. "If we are to bring death to the Romulans in the Heyati sector then we should depart." he said as he looked across to Mulkrit. Standing up from his chair he added, "After all, there's no reason to delay this mission any further." A solemn nod came from Mulkrit before the two departed from the Kri'stak's war room.

Once on the bridge the two warriors made their way to the turbo lift. "Lok'esh," Koltarn said to his helms officer as he and Mulkrit waited for the lift. "Signal Kendra Alpha that we will be departing shortly and see to it that all officers are on ship and ready to disembark."

"Aye sir," was all the Klingon officer said as he looked at Koltarn and tried his best to hide the curiosity that was boiling inside him. The Kri'stak had never left Kendra Alpha as of yet and to be suddenly told they would at last be leaving brought a curious excitement to Lok'esh, as well as the other officers present. It finally seemed as though their prowess would be tested on a mission, an issue that they all seemed to relish. Stepping onto the turbo lift Koltarn turned and took one last view of the bridge of the ship that he would take into battle before tapping the button to take him and Mulkrit down to deck twenty-seven.

The ride in the turbo lift proved to be a silent one as both Klingons prepared for the battle ahead. At one point Klingon warriors would charge into battle with little regard for what would be the kill total at the end of the day. So long as they died with honor then nothing else mattered to them. The war with the Romulans however had taught them too many painful lessons that couldn't be ignored. Gone was the simple ideal of kill until killed. Now they had to plan out each encounter with the Romulans as best they could. For probably the first time in all of recorded Klingon history body counts actually mattered. When the days end came they knew that more Romulans than Klingons would have to lay in death, or else threaten to put victory back within their enemies grasp. This fact had become a harsh reality for those in the Klingon Empire, and for commanders like Koltarn and Mulkrit even more so. For there actions not only risked to condemn themselves to death, but the thousands of warriors that they would lead into death's reach.

When the turbo lift reached deck twenty-seven both Klingons stepped onto the deck without hesitation. Both had grown very familiar with the layout of a Negh'Var class warship and knew exactly where to go without having to give it a second thought. After traveling down several corridors they finally reached their destination, the transporter room.

The moment Koltarn and Mulkrit entered the small transporter room the officer on duty quickly snapped to attention. Being still docked at shipyard there had been little to do onboard the Kri'stak, short of actual construction work, to which was done mostly by Kendra Alpha's workers. For the actual crew it had been a boring stretch of time in wait for their first mission. Even though this had caused a more lax attitude to be spread through the crew that attitude always became lost when in the presence of their new commanding officer.

"Commander Mulkrit here will be beaming back to the Sompek," Koltarn informed the officer who only responded with a nod as he began to key up the sequence that would send Mulkrit back to his ship.

Placing one foot onto the transporter pad Mulkrit turned back to look upon his friend one more time. A strange and foreboding sense came over him as he looked back at Koltarn and for a moment his mind wondered if he would see his friend again. Then, after a quiet sigh, he pushed the thought away and felt bad of the fact that death haunted him so. True he had seen a great many die around him, but so had everyone else at some point during this bloodbath. Just because he had lost those that had been closest to him didn't mean that he would have to bury any more friends. "To a glorious victory," he said as he held his hand out to Koltarn.

Instantly Koltarn clasped Mulkrit's arm and replied with, "One which will be forever mentioned in song my friend." A vow of bloodwine was made between the two before Mulkrit stood in position on top of the device and slowly faded away in a brilliance of red light.

Once Mulkrit had beamed aboard the Sompek Koltarn quickly departed the transporter room without a word to the officer on duty as his gray commander robe billowed out from behind him. He then made his way back to the turbo lift in a pace as quick as a walk would allow. Koltarn knew that in order to successfully complete their mission they would have to depart as soon as possible. More so he knew that they needed to depart as soon as possible for the sake of the crew, who he could feel growing more and more dissatisfied by the prospect of sitting on the sidelines during a war. This sentiment he couldn't hold against any of them, though it was one he could no longer identify with so strongly.

The moment Koltarn returned to the bridge all eyes rested upon him. There were almost twice as many eyes as had been there moments before he noticed and realized that every officer was now at their station and ready to go on whatever mission their leaders willed. Taking a look at each of them he saw something just beneath the surface that he couldn't immediately identify. At first he thought it was an uneasiness about going into battle in a new and untested vessel. Then he realized his mistake in judgment and decided to finally tell them the glorious mission they were to be sent on. "Patch me through to the entire ship." Koltarn said to his comms officer as he moved to stand in the middle of the bridge. After a nod from the young female officer was given he began.

"My brothers and sisters," he began in a form that mimicked that of Worf's earlier. It was a form he was not too fond of, but he knew from experience that it was the best form to use when inspiring those that served under you. "We have been called upon by our leaders to undertake an important mission. Perhaps one of the most important missions of the entire war. By the end of today the Romulan shipyards at Heyati II will be left to memory by our hand."

From those around him on the bridge and surely from all others who had heard Koltarn's words a sudden change in mood came. No one felt quite sure how they should react to such news. Every one of them had been anxious to be sent on a mission, and when the prospect of one finally came they all had to hold back the sheer excitement their warrior hearts pumped into them. But to take on Heyati II, one of the Romulans most well known strongholds, and on their first time out from dock? It was a thought that made each of them pause for a moment.

"I know that such a mission probably wasn't what anyone had in mind for our first time out, but let the newness of this vessel not cause a single one of you to be concerned. This vessel bears a righteous name, and holds a most honorable crew. Though the Kri'stak's paint may be fresh, you are not. Each one of you have fought with distinction over the course of this war and each one of you know what must be done to drive back the Romulan threat once and for all. For this reason I am confident that at the end of the day the path to victory will be like this mighty vessel and coated in a fresh layer of green. Let the name IKS Kri'stak be one that is forever remembered in song. Q'apla." With that Koltarn sat down in his captain's chair and simply let his words wash over his crew, hoping they would have at least a fraction of the impact that Worf's words had on them only a short while ago.

Doubt and uncertainty had run through the officers that made up the Kri'stak's crew at the mention of Heyati II as their target. Though the Kri'stak was a powerful Negh'Var class warship and manned by one of the most skilled crews in the Alliance their minds had still found a way to let a small bit of doubt sneak in. That doubt had quickly been pushed away by Koltarn's words. While each of them were far from the starry-eyed and often gullible ensign that came fresh from training, they just couldn't argue with their new commander's words. It came down to one simple fact. That fact was how could they question their chances when Koltarn so firmly believed they would be victorious? This fact was one that no one felt could be argued.

Almost instantly Koltarn could feel everyone's mood change and he almost smiled at the fact. He knew that each of them harbored doubt at being able to take out the Heyati II shipyards. As well they should. Those shipyards had been considered nothing short of a fortress and he knew that for it to be destroyed would take an unmitigated resolve. Being the commander did not shield him from such doubt. He too wondered if they would be able to walk away from this battle with both their lives and a victory. Unlike those under him though he wasn't allowed to show such doubt. In the face of danger he needed to appear always confident and never wary for the sake of them. This was another fact that he did not like, but had simply gotten used to.

With the order given to disembark and Kendra Alpha notified of their long awaited departure the crew grew excited as they stood ready at their stations. The full realization that they were finally leaving didn't hit them though until a metallic sound could be heard coming from outside. Slowly the station's construction arms retracted away from the Kri'stak and it shifted slightly as it came under its own power. As Lok'esh punched in the sequence to start up the engines the anxious feeling that the crew had been experiencing seemed to come from a new place entirely, from the Kri'stak herself. Obviously that was something that was more felt by the crew then actually happening, but being a warship it could almost seem plausible.

Moving away from the station now Koltarn had one more doubt about the mission spring into his mind. It was the first mission that he was to command since his capture on Delpox II, a mission that had cost the lives of at least five of the seven troops under his command, perhaps even all seven. In the role of soldier a defeat clung to one's being like a stench that would never fully go away. This point was even greater for those in command. Koltarn knew though that the only way to wash himself from that stench would be with an absolute victory. This he kept in mind as the rest of the task force assembled behind the Kri'stak and the Sompek before the entire group jumped to warp en masse.

The journey to the Heyati sector was a slow one. Much slower then what one might think of considering how close to the border both Heyati II and Kendra Alpha were. Right after the fleet had gone to warp a rudimentary attack plan had been devised between Mulkrit and himself and then sent to the rest of the vessels via transmission, but really how much could one plan such a mission? All they had to do was fly in, destroy one of the Romulan's toughest bases, and fly back out with their lives. How hard could that be? In either case, planning a mission hardly ever seemed that effective, as intelligence was seldom accurate. Most of the best tactics were always ones borne on the field of battle, and in one of those Koltarn placed his hope for success.

After speaking with Mulkrit not a single thing of interest had happened. Though never tested the Kri'stak seemed to be running smoothly thus far. Her crew were keeping themselves as busy as they could at their stations, but it hardly seemed enough to simply stay there as they awaited the fast approaching battle. For weeks now they had trained day and night on the Negh'Var's systems, knowing that when the time came their lives might depend on how well they could react within a situation. But they had learned all they could in that time. Now all they could do is sit back and hope that their training would help them succeed when they were tested in the coming battle.

With nothing to do himself Koltarn was left to sit in silence and do the only thing one tends to do when placed in this situation; think. Sitting there his mind wandered to thoughts of his new friend Mulkrit. In the short time he had known the warrior he had learned a lot about him, but he still wasn't quite sure how he felt about the man. Mulkrit was obviously a great soldier, his commission along with half a dozen commendations showed that, and he was a likeable person as a whole, but still Koltarn felt something holding him back when he went to judge the him. Having risked his life to save Koltarn instantly won over some respect from the Klingon commander, and the fact that Mulkrit had come to Carraya IV specifically looking for Koltarn was commendable, if not slightly suspicious, but still Koltarn was hesitant to put any sort of label on the man. For the moment he simply decided to call him friend and leave things at that.

Thoughts about Mulkrit and his rescue led Koltarn's mind back to thoughts of his imprisonment. Going back to Delpox II the last few minutes of the mission flashed before him. Suddenly before him was Turax, one of the best soldiers he had ever led into battle, as the green light of a Romulan disruptor struck the Klingon square in the chest and he fell to the ground in death. Then he saw himself fire shot after shot at the Romulans who poured into the small room and he saw each of them fall to the ground in slow motion, almost as though his memory was some bizarre movie that he was watching. He felt the sense of death come upon him as he knew the Romulans would soon kill him, but at the time all that mattered was letting the Breen soldier behind him complete his task. So many had died that day and he knew that the only way for their deaths to not be in vain was for Lukshn to be given the chance to send a message out to their superiors. Then he saw himself fall down like Turax and he could almost feel the hard blow that some Romulan soldier had delivered him. Falling into unconsciousness he did not know whether or not Lukshn would succeed, but all his being prayed that he would. He then took what he thought would be his last breath before the world around him had gone black.

He had thought wrong though. When he stumbled back into consciousness several hours had passed, or it could have been days, he had no way to know for sure. What he did know that he was no longer at the Romulan base on Delpox II. As he looked about he saw that the room around him was now much smaller, and was free of the chaos that he had just escaped from. The movement he felt around him told him that he was now on a ship, though even that he wasn't entirely sure of. Slowly he moved his hand to the back of his neck and gently placed it on a lump that was sending wave after wave of pain burrowing into his mind. This could be the cause of his feeling movement, but again there was no way to be sure.

Another stretch of time passed and Koltarn sat against one of the gray walls that made up the room. There was not a sound nor movement coming from anywhere around him and for the first time in a long while he felt truly alone. In too much physical pain and mental anguish Koltarn couldn't even summon the strength to make it across the room to the door that was set across from him. Not that it mattered though, since surely there was some sort of forcefield on it, and if not then two armed guards surely awaited on the other side for him to try and escape. This left him alone and to himself for several hours before the doors finally opened and in walked a Romulan officer flanked by two guards.

The officer was a centurion, and a rather high ranking one Koltarn gathered after noticing how many medallions adorned the front of his uniform, by the name of Veruuk. Almost immediately Veruuk spit words out about him being a prisoner and how he would co-operate or suffer the consequences. Koltarn made only a vague nod of recognition to these words which pushed the Romulan beyond the line of anger. Then Koltarn thought the centurion was going to torture him for information, but he did the opposite as he turned on his heels and walked out of the room without another word.

He never saw Veruuk again, nor did he see anyone else until the two troops came to remove him. One of them had a needle in hand and injected Koltarn with something after a mild struggle had come from the Klingon. Once again Koltarn slipped into darkness and once again he awoke from that darkness in a new surrounding. This time the room was slightly larger and looked to be built of a different and probably cheaper material. There was another difference this time in that he was not the room's only occupant. In a corner opposite from him he saw a Breen soldier sitting against a wall and apparently asleep. Koltarn knew that now he was in a Romulan prison camp, and he knew that the days would get progressively darker.

"Commander Koltarn," came a sudden voice that jarred the Klingon soldier from his memories. The voice belonged to Lok'esh, who was turned away from his station and looking directly at Koltarn.

"What Lok'esh," he replied feeling a little dazed from so suddenly being brought back to reality, but unwilling to show the fact.

"Sir, I thought you would like to know that we will be arriving in the Heyati system in less than four minutes." the helmsman said quickly before turning back around and returning to his duties.

Sitting up in his chair Koltarn readied himself for the battle that was about to ensue. For so long the Romulans of the Heyati II shipyards had proved to be an annoyance that simply refused to go away. He almost felt like grinning at knowing how the Romulans were about to be caught unprepared and about to lose one of their most valuable possessions. Yes, the death knell would certainly toll for those aboard Heyati II today.

The closing moments leading up to the battle were tense ones. Each officer found themselves sitting on the edge of their seat and those standing found a rigidness take hold of them. They had all trained for this and they were all more than well prepared, but that didn't leave them void of uncertainty. The task of taking out one of the Romulans most fortified stations was a daunting one, one that made them each want to hold their breath up until the point they finally dropped out of warp.

Calmness came from the velvet black space that lay just within the Heyati system. That calmness seemed like it could never be disturbed. But that only lasted for another heartbeat as suddenly it winked to life as dozens of Klingon ships dropped out of warp and into the Heyati system, hungry and eager to spill Romulan blood.

Koltarn sat at attention as the Romulan shipyard appeared on the view screen before him. There was quite a distance between them and the shipyard as it was on the far side of Heyati's second planet. In that distance Koltarn could recognize several Romulan ships that looked just ripe for killing. "How many Romulan vessels are there?" he asked, wanting to make sure they would have a definitive advantage over their Romulan foes.

"I'm reading twenty-two D'Deridex class warbirds, sir." Gorz'k, the ship's tactical officer, said in response to Koltarn's question.

Only twenty-two vessels? That was even fewer than what their estimates had projected. This would give the Klingon task force a three to one advantage over the Romulans. With that there was no way that Koltarn could see that the Romulan shipyard would be left running at the end of the day. Something ran through his mind to which he couldn't immediately recognize. This moment he had been waiting for ever since his rescue from Carraya IV. It was the moment when he would exact revenge upon those that had capture him, and he intended for that revenge to send ripples throughout the entire Romulan Empire. Bringing his hand up he held it there for a moment to give the Romulans and his crew one last peaceful moment. Then he tightly gripped it and gave the sign to attack.

Seemingly without hesitation each vessel in the Klingon fleet moved forward towards the Romulans and the shipyard that they would unsuccessfully try to protect. Each vessel was manned by a ready crew that was eager to be remembered throughout the rest of the war as part of the task force that destroyed the famous Romulan shipyards. The war had been a bloody one in which the tides of fortune had shifted back and forth between the warring powers several times. Now though it seemed to be favoring the Alliance in their campaign against the Romulans. This march forward was one they were dedicated to not relent in until the Romulans were defeated, and they hoped that the destruction of the Heyati II shipyard would prove to be a crippling blow that signaled the beginning of the end for the Romulan Star Empire.

As the Klingon vessels approached the shipyard the Romulan warbirds finally took notice of the enemy vessels and they turned to face the oncoming threat. Slowly the bulky Romulan vessels moved away from the shipyard and began to come at the Klingon force in an attempt to head off the oncoming threat and draw the Klingon fire away from the shipyard. Koltarn gave a slight grunt of amusement when he saw this. The Romulans had to know they were horribly outnumbered and would surely all die, yet here they were charging into that death. Had the action come from anyone else he might have thought it a noble act from a brave race. But these were Romulans, and they weren't doing this for honor or glory but for desperation. It was a desperation that Koltarn would gladly end, along with their lives.

The moment the two combatant forces got within range they opened fire, not holding a single thing back. It was the Klingons who fired first and hit their mark first. It was also the Klingons who took the first casualties as Koltarn saw a K'Vort bird-of-prey get torn to shreds by disruptor fire. This death did nothing to slow the Klingons in their resolve though as they continued to push into the Romulan line and continued to hurl wave after wave of death upon their green-blooded foe.

Watching the action on the view screen Koltarn held firmly onto the sides of his captain's chair. Being one of two Negh'Var class vessels made the Kri'stak a welcome target, to which the Romulans had already seen fit to strike with several glowing torpedoes. But the Romulans were paying their due. Sitting there Koltarn watched on as a squadron of ten K'Vort's formed up and made several runs on a nearby warbird. Since they were small and maneuverable they were able to easily weave in and out around the warbird's disruptor fire. Several of them were struck, but onward they flew, firing volley after volley of phaser fire at the mighty vessel's key structural points. Several moments passed and the vessels continued to be locked in this strange dance until finally the Romulan vessel teetered to one side and disappeared in a fireball.

The battle pressed on and the casualties on each side grew more and more. Though the Klingon force greatly outnumbered their Romulans counterparts the Romulans were doing a surprising job at pressing back on the Klingons and keeping the battle seemingly even. Then the Romulans pulled a tactic that Koltarn had been waiting for since the first salvo had been fired.

Towards the middle of the shipyard facility a large, round station sat. This station was undoubtedly the nerve center for the entire facility, but it also served another purpose. As Koltarn watched on the station appeared to split in half as several sections around the station's middle moved upward and out of view. In those gaps were set vast bays which suddenly birthed hundreds of small green vessels. The Romulans were launching their fighters in the hope that these added vessels would help to force the advancing Klingon threat back. Though hundreds of these small vessels were coming to join their larger brethren in combat Koltarn was far from concerned. True these fighters would cause an annoyance to the Klingon aggressors, but that's all they would cause. He knew the specs of these vessels quite well and knowing that he felt that they would be easily picked off.

With the Romulan fighters joining the fight the battle intensified. They acted as gasoline that had been poured on a wildfire and all they had accomplished was to cause that fire to grow beyond suppression. On the whole the Romulan fighters did prove to be a help to the bulky Romulan warbirds, but only slightly. For each vessel they helped to destroy at least four of them were blown to bits. This tactic would have failed the Romulan fighters had they not had such a large amount of them. They must have known that they would be easily wiped out, but onward they came in kamikaze fashion. Again Koltarn felt something for the Romulans that he was helping to wipe out, that feeling was pity. He decided though that since they had never shown the Alliance pity that he would return the favor and show them none on this day.

Seeing the Romulan line beginning to crumble Koltarn decided it was time to enact the second phase of their plan. "Gorz'k, signal all vessels to concentrate their fire at coordinates twenty-two delta, towards the center of their line where it's weakest." He intended to break through that line and clear a path down the center all the way to Heyati II.

"Aye sir," was the tactical officer's only reply as he relayed the orders to all the other Klingon vessels.

In one swift movement all the Klingon vessels stopped firing at whatever targets they had been engaging and turned their focus and their fire at the designated coordinates. Volleys of torpedoes were sent hurtling into two warbirds and phaser fire lanced the nearby fighters, turning the whole area into an unending wave of fire and death. Almost frantically several warbirds tried to move in towards each other to close the gap as the two targeted warbirds were lit up by fire and began to drift off, broken and beaten.

Koltarn would not allow the Romulans to take away this advantage. "Give the signal to go through that gap before they close it!" he shouted to Gorz'k as a console off to his right exploded in response to several Romulan torpedoes that struck the Kri'stak. He wondered which console had blown up and what the condition was of whoever had manned it. In the heat of battle though these were questions that a commander could only give the briefest of thought to.

Steadily, with the Kri'stak leading the way, a group of Klingon vessels moved towards the gap in the Romulan line. Seeing the Klingon ships advance the Romulans quickened their movements in a final attempt to stop the Klingons from getting through. In response the vessels that marched forward fired every torpedo and every blast of phaser energy they had at the Romulans as the Romulans fired back with an equal amount of force. The space between the opposing forces lit up and filled with an array of torpedoes and phaser fire. Both the Klingons and the Romulans were being hit by untold strengths and many of the vessels were torn to shreds and burned to a crisp in the fierce violence that ensued. Vessel after vessel crumbled and burned to dust and yet neither force gave any sign of diminishing their resolve against the other.

As the Kri'stak approached the gap the whole vessel quaked as blast after blast impacted them. The vessel very nearly felt like it would come apart at any moment and join those that lay tumbling and burning. Koltarn wouldn't allow it though. His fists gripped so tightly that his hands began to bleed slightly as his fingernails dug through the leather of his gloves and into his palm's skin. He knew that all around the Kri'stak Klingon vessels were being destroyed and hundreds of loyal and honorable Klingon soldiers were dying at the hands of the Romulans. This fact he would have given a passing thought too except he knew that Romulans too were shedding blood, and probably in a greater amount. So much death encircled around him, but he kept his mind focused on one single task, the destruction of the Heyati II shipyards. Its destruction was all that mattered, as only then would there come justification for all of the lives that were being extinguished around him.

The battle seemed to come to almost a standstill as time appeared to slow as the Kri'stak closed the distance to the gap in the Romulan line, though the ferocity of it remained as intense as ever. From outside the range of death it looked very cinematic as the Klingon vessels continued fighting and dying on approach to the gap. Onward they pressed and it looked as though the tactical officers aboard each of the combating vessels never let their finger slip off the trigger. Continuous fire and continuous death, that was the mood of this battle. Many vessels erupted into flames on both sides in what was surely the most tense battle fought as of yet during the war. As their comrades died around them several of the Klingons wondered if they would make it to the gap, and wondered if they would be able to get to the Romulans shipyard and see to its destruction. Several of these questioning minds got a swift answer as the vessels around them were hit with fire and exploded around them. Some though were rewarded as the Klingons finally reached the gap and were able to punch through, leaving a graveyard of Romulans vessels and debris in their wake.

When the view before them showed only the Romulan shipyard Koltarn slammed his fist down in triumphant rejoice before rising from his chair. He knew that their resolve would beat back that of the Romulans, and now he had a clear path that would end at the shipyard's destruction. "How many vessels made it through with us?" he asked over his shoulder, not wanting to take his sight away from the helpless station that lay before them.

"I'm reading....fourteen Vor'Cha's flying directly behind us sir," Gorz'k said after a moment's hesitation and with a hint of fatigue in his voice.

Only fourteen? That number would barely do in taking out the Romulan shipyard. If that is what he had to work with though then he was determined to make it count. "Signal the Sompek and tell Commander Mulkrit to keep the remaining Romulans at bay while we take out the shipyard." Koltarn paused for a moment and let the officer give the standard reply before continuing. "When we get within range of the shipyard I want you to hit it with everything we've got. Empty the torpedo tubes, drain the phaser banks, whatever it takes to send those aboard to a fiery death."

"Yes sir!" the tactical officer said, but in a different tone then what he used moments before. This tone was full of excitement, a feeling that all those on the bridge felt at finally seeing the destruction of a vital Romulan base draw ever nearer.

Koltarn stood firm in the center of his battered bridge and looked on as his emotions threatened to break through the veil of stability that command had brought upon him. Feeling the mood of those around him change he knew that their excitement was growing larger as their target was drawing nearer. He couldn't blame them for that excitement, but he didn't exactly share in it. His tenure as soldier during this war had taught him some harsh lessons. Ones that became even more apparent during and after his mission on Delpox II. The lessons and experiences that summed up his military career had eaten at his being and eroded the passion for battle that he felt as a young officer. Now excitement in the face of Romulan death was fleeting, if it came at all. No, he did not feel excitement as they readied themselves to destroy the Romulan facility, but he did feel pride at those that had served so well under his command on this day. For their sake and for the sake of those that had perished he would bring about the shipyard's destruction with a graceful passion that officers looked toward their commanders for.

The second the Klingon vessels got within range of the shipyard they all stopped dead in their tracks and simply stared at it. Disbelief then coursed through them as they finally stood within moments of the mighty shipyard's destruction. A wondrous awe enveloped them and they all took a deep and heavy breath in the calm before the storm. Then as before Koltarn lifted up his right hand and held it there as if gathering dramatic effect before giving the fist clenching signal to open fire.

All gre'thor broke loose. Without any warning all fifteen vessels suddenly opened fire upon the station with a ferocity that legends are made of. Each one of them fired everything they had in the same fashion that they had when trying to punch through the Romulan line; only it seemed more grandiose than before. Wave after wave of death pounded itself upon the scaffolding and stations that made up the great Heyati II shipyard. It was truly a wondrous sight that would surely inspire generations of pride and untold numbers of song. Koltarn found himself enjoying the scene before him in an odd way he thought was lost to him as he stared on.

"Sir! I'm picking up something on scans!" Gorz'k shouted through the chaos at his commanding officer.

In the midst of the destruction that was being caused Koltarn didn't immediately register his tactical officer's words. When he did he turned to Gorz'k begrudgingly, not wanting to be interrupted in their moment of triumph. "What is it?" he asked, not even bothering to try and hide his discontent in his tone.

"Its Romulans sir! I'm picking up several vessels decloaking behind the Sompek and remaining Klingon vessels!"

More Romulan vessels? But they were barely holding their own against the Romulans force. For them to get reinforcements now would surely tip the balance in their favor and down upon the Klingon's heads. "How many?" Koltarn asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"I'm reading thirty D'Deridex class warbirds decloaking and approaching the remaining Klingon ships."

Thirty more warbirds? The news hit Koltarn like a brick. With that many vessels the Romulans would be able to kill every last one of them. If they were swift enough they might even be able to stop them from destroying the shipyard all together. While important, the shipyard was the least of Koltarn's worries at the moment. In his mind he calculated the time they would need to completely destroy the shipyard and tried to guess how long it would take for the Romulans to be breathing down their necks. There would be a risk that they would fail if Mulkrit didn't stay and take the heat off them until the shipyard's destruction. He didn't want to fail in his mission, but neither was he willing to sacrifice Mulkrit's life in order to achieve it.

"Patch me through to the Sompek," Koltarn ordered. After getting a signal from Gorz'k that he was through he swallowed hard before giving his friend the hardest order a commander will ever have to make on the field of battle, the order to retreat. "Mulkrit? Are you there?"

"I'm a little too busy at the moment for small talk," Mulkrit said through static and explosions.

"Listen to me Mulkrit. I want you to get yourself out of there. Fall back to the rendezvous coordinates in the Amagosa system."

"And let you take all the credit? No, I think we'll stay and fight this one to the bitter end. You just make sure you take out that shipyard."

The stubborn fool! He was going to get himself, his crew, and the crews of several other vessels killed just because he didn't want to duck out of a fight. Mulkrit was an honorable soldier, but in this case Koltarn thought that survival should outweigh the prospect of any extra honor he might gain in staying. "Mulkrit, I'm ordering you to..." he started to implore his friend until there was an electronic noise that signaled that Mulkrit had closed the channel.

"What are our orders sir?" Lok'esh asked as she stared at Koltarn.

"Destroy that station now!" Koltarn said as he seethed with anger over his friend's blatant ignorance of the situation.

The moments that followed were the most intense yet. Turning a blind eye to the Romulans and their reinforcements the Kri'stak and the Vor'Chas that fought alongside her continued to pummel the station. Here and there holes were being punched through the station and metal melted and twisted away under the extreme heat the weapon impacts caused. Still the base wasn't quite ready to die yet. As though it were a living thing that wished to mock the Klingons in their attempt to destroy it the shipyard persevered. Hundreds of torpedoes and uncounted phaser blasts had struck the shipyard as it continued on with a few choked gasps of life. Finally though after what was surely an eternity the outer most parts of the facility bent and teetered themselves inward and collided with the centermost structures. With this impact a thousand tiny fires jumped to life and came together to spread all across the shipyard's hull. Then, in what was a scene fit only for a movie, there was a phenomenal explosion and the Heyati II shipyard was no more.

All around him came cheers of joy and celebration, but Koltarn wasn't ready to celebrate just yet. "Put the Sompek on screen and prepare to fire anything we have left to try and defend her." Koltarn ordered as he made his way back to the captain's chair. Instead of sitting down though he simply looked on, hoping it wasn't too late for his friend.

His order was obeyed and the Sompek appeared on the screen, but it was too late. All around the mighty Negh'Var the Romulans circled like vultures, striking at it over and over in an attempt to gain some retribution for the shipyard they had just lost. Then, before Koltarn's very eyes, the Sompek began to buckle and a great explosion erupted from where it held its position. Koltarn's eyes widened in horror as they saw the explosion wrap itself around a few nearby warbirds before it fizzled out and left nothing but a few sharded remains.

The impact of what just happened wasn't felt by just Koltarn, but by all those who witnessed it. A grim silence strangled the air of the Kri'stak's bridge as no one quite knew what to say. Finally though someone did speak. "What should we do now sir?" Lok'esh asked, not knowing what else to say.  
Falling back into his chair a stunned Koltarn looked on, not knowing what to say. On the screen though someone made a decision as the remaining Romulan forces began to turn around and come at the Kri'stak. Koltarn could barely speak, but he knew what he had to say. Their mission was done, and now the only choice was to stay here and die or fall back to fight the Romulans another day. "Fall back to the Amagosa system, maximum warp." he ordered with his last bit of strength.

On the view screen the Romulan vessels disappeared and was replaced by the blackness of space as several points of light sped passed them. Koltarn could hardly think of what to do. He had known that the destruction of the Heyati II shipyard would come at a price, he just never imagined that it would be so high or hit so close to home. The crew was silent as they traveled their way from the battlefield and to the safety of Amagosa.

When they arrived in the Amagosa system the first thing for them to do was regroup and try and figure out exactly how many ships and how many lives had been sacrificed to win the day. Their task had just begun when suddenly Gorz'k piped up.

"I'm picking up a ship approaching, sir."

A ship? Koltarn's mind rushed through the possibilities. Had the Romulans followed them here? No, that didn't make sense. If it was indeed the Romulans then why only send one vessel, and decloaked for that matter. Whoever it was Koltarn wasn't about to be caught off guard by them. "Raise shields and full tactical alert, Gorz'k."

The Kri'stak stood ready as the unknown vessel approached. Slowly it entered the system and dropped out of warp. When it did so the battered and barely functioning vessel limped into view. Koltarn's eyes went wide again in disbelief.

"Thought you'd leave me behind did you my friend?" Mulkrit's tired voice came over the comms channel as Koltarn and the rest of the officers present stared on at the barely functioning pile that had once been the Sompek.

"How did you?" Koltarn asked of his friend. He wanted to say something more but his stupor prevented him from doing so.

"I will tell you my friend, rest assured." Mulkrit's voice came over the static riddled channel. "Now, I believe you owe me a barrel of bloodwine." This caused Koltarn to give a hearty laugh before extending his friend an invite to come aboard.


	16. Wraiths of Wrath

_Chapter Sixteen: Wraiths of Wrath _

Mission  
As the war against the Romulans rages on Regent Worf finds himself sitting on the sidelines and deemed too necessary to go into combat. Alone and feeling useless he decides it is finally time to confront someone and to confront his past.  
Mission Date:  
237th day in the 2369th of Molar

Once he had finished reading the latest status report concerning the war with the Romulans Worf carefully placed the P.A.D.D. on a table beside him and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. The war was progressing very well for the Alliance as of late. In the past two weeks alone the Romulans had lost two small bases, several sectors of territory, and one of their more critical shipyards. This plus the loss of who knew how many vessels and certainly the Romulans were experiencing the biggest possibility of defeat that they had experienced throughout the entire war. Finally, after nine long years, victory in this bloodbath was within the Alliance's grasp. This concept should have proved to be one of great excitement to the stoic leader, yet in this hour of victory he couldn't help but to feel a great sadness rest in his being.

Reaching over to the table he took a glass bottle in his hand and brought it to his lips. With a tilt of the bottle he readied himself for the smooth, tongue burning liquid, and when none came to his lips he could only look at the bottle with confusion. The bottle was empty, though Worf couldn't bring himself to believe the fact right away. Wondering if he had really drunk the whole bottle he just placed it back on the table and gave another sigh. Whatever the drink was that he had been given by Rakln it certainly didn't affect him like he had hoped. The poor Breen soldier. With a shake of his head Worf made a note to send General Rakln a bottle of bloodwine to show him what real alcohol was like.

He then found himself staring out into the silence that his quarters offered. Darkness had been allowed to take hold of his quarters as only a few well-placed candles provided light. Combined with the silence, a very gloomy atmosphere had been created. It was an atmosphere that Worf felt in need of right now. Despite report after report of victory that came he couldn't help but to feel a choking depression wrap around him.

While Worf grew eager for the conflict with the Romulans to be ended he couldn't help but to think back over the past nine years and wonder what it had all been for. Just coming off of a costly war with the Terrans no one in the Alliance was particularly excited by the concept of another when the Romulans attacked Tau Ceti and Sigma IV, but they were Klingons and still thirsty for combat and bloodshed. If that thirst hadn't been quenched by now then Worf could think of nothing that would ever satisfy the Klingon lust for combat. Looking at those that served under him told him that they were satisfied beyond what they could have imagined, and now even the most fanatic that Klingon society offered were seeking a way to end this war.

Sitting there Worf could remember back to a time when the thing that binded the Klingon race together was the lust for combat and bloodshed. Since the start of the Romulan war another thing had appeared to which they could all share in; loss. The war had been a long one, and a very bloody and costly one at that. If there was a soul in the Alliance who had not lost a loved at the hands of the Romulans then truly it was a miracle. Worf couldn't imagine for a second though that any such individual existed. No, not anymore.

It was this notion of loss that had brought on Worf's current state. Carefully his hand made its way back to the table next to him and ran itself blindly over several objects as Worf's hand searched for something. When it found the thin, metallic object it carefully took hold and brought it within Worf's view. Slowly he shifted his eyes away from the wall and down to what his hand had brought him. A part of him urged him not to look, knowing that doing so would cause a degree of pain to tear through him, yet he looked anyway. With only a few candles around him to give him light Worf had to strain his eyes for a moment as the blur before him began to come into focus. Suddenly, before him her smiling face took form and a wave of pain hit him. Though his mind once again urged him to look away Worf refused to take his eyes off of the picture of Deanna Troi, his imzadi.

It was three years ago when she was killed by a group of Andorians while overseeing the construction of a resort on Betazed II. Three long years and yet Worf's heart ached now as if he had just been told of her death. Without Deanna by his side Worf had felt utterly lost and completely alone. He had wished that upon her death he could have been given the chance to simply burrow deep down somewhere and hide from the universe with only a bottle by his side. Fate had not allowed such an action though. While the Alliance was spent in political upheaval over the Bajoran Intendant Kira and her then title of Overseer the Alliance was still in the middle of a war. While the Romulans may not have been directly involved with his imzadi's murder, Worf still felt the need to cast blame on them. After all, had he not been off fighting them then he would have been able to be there and protect her when the Andorians had come to slaughter her. The fact that he had not been by her side when she needed him most had caused within him a guilt that neither time nor forgiveness could shake.

Despite his need to move on and help his people against the Romulans Worf had very nearly collapsed into an emotional suffering that would have destroyed him. Thankfully though he had a friend by his side who had held out her hand and pulled him back from the precipice when he had needed it most. That help had come from someone he had not expected to be there in his darkest hour, but he would be eternally grateful that B'elanna had been.

Being half-Terran amongst those that despised the race had caused a rough upbringing for her. Because of her mother's choice in mates both her and B'elanna had been forced into servitude by Worf's adopted father Ja'rod, and as such she had been a playmate of both him and Duras. While he had always liked B'elanna he didn't pay much attention towards her until the death of Duras. That tragedy had created a loose friendship between the two, but it wasn't until Deanna's death a year later that he began to truly value having B'elanna by his side. By doing nothing but simply being there she had gained a respect from he Klingon leader to which no one else could be offered. She had pulled him out of his despair and now he found that he didn't feel whole without her standing next to him.

That reliance upon her had served to be a catalyst for affliction in times like these. With the war raging on B'elanna's presence had been needed elsewhere, and in the wake of her departure there had formed an opportunity to slip back into the abyss that had been created in his mind by the loss of Deanna. He had chosen to spend his respite from B'elanna alone in his quarters with only a flickering glow and an intoxicating drink as his friends. Every now and then an officer had come by and given him a P.A.D.D. with the latest report from the frontlines, but other than that no one had dared disturb the mighty Regent. Both his crew's reluctance and the unending news of victory had served to bolster his self-imposed isolation. It felt as though the universe was showing him that it didn't need him to participate in it for it to continue on. Had he been a lesser man he might have bowed to that whim, but he was Worf, son of Mogh and Regent of the Alliance. As such he would not let a thing stop him from making a worthwhile contribution to the war.

That need to feel busy and to feel that he was helping in some way had caused the Negh'Var's current mission. While fleets of Klingon, Breen, and Cardassian vessels pushed the Romulans back he found that some thought had to be given for him to find a task to do. Since the Narendra Conference the Negh'Var had not been sent on any mission deemed too big of a risk. With his brush with death en route to the conference he understood why some leaders wished to take precautions and be assured that his life was not ended on some mission that would be better done by someone more expendable, yet he felt that didn't justify him and his crew to be sitting on the sidelines during this war. The only thing he had done worthwhile lately was to deliver a few stirring speeches to the troops and bring out that spark of bloodlust they all still possessed. And in the grand scheme of the war was that truly necessary of him? He would have to answer that question with a no. Knowing that he could neither go into battle nor continue sitting in disuse he had found a task to eat up his free time with. This task was one he had kept in the back of his mind since the Narendra Conference and now that he was actually going to do it he awaited in eager anticipation.

Leaning back he fell into a half sleep as he waited for the Negh'Var to reach its destination. With no one to speak to or give attention to a stifling boredom set in and Worf couldn't help but to let part of his being drift away. Fatigue had set in after the last speech he had given and he had decided on trying the Breen alcohol instead of trying to rest. Since there was nothing else to do now until they arrived he decided to take his few spare moments to finally let his weary being rest.

As his mind drifted away the scenery around him began to change and with it came a whole new mood. No longer was he in the dark and secluded room of his quarters but on some distant beach sitting in the brightness of an alien sun. A warm breeze drifted off the ocean and the sound of some hungry birds made its way down from the heavens and to his ears. Enjoying his peaceful moment of relaxation he saw someone coming toward him. The someone was a rather beautiful woman with long brown hair and a smile that could melt even his icy heart. As she came towards him she called out his name before reaching him and lying down beside him.

"Isn't it nice here?" the woman asked as she laid a silky arm across his chest and looked outward towards the rolling sea. "Promise me that when the war is over we'll come back and stay here." Her voice was hopeful, yet there seemed to be an almost sad quality to it. After another moment of looking towards the ocean she turned her head and let her eyes rest in his as she added "My imzadi," in as soft a tone as one could have.

Carefully Worf wetted his lips and was about to respond to her when suddenly something around him changed. The constant squawking from the birds above was gone and a new noise seemed to echo from all around. It didn't seem like a natural noise at all, and indeed it wasn't. As Worf realized what the noise was he began to fall away from serenity and back towards the dark reality he had just escaped from. Struggling against the fall he tried with all his might to stay with Deanna, but his mind wouldn't allow it and soon he found himself awake and once more surrounded by gloom.

Slowly he rose from his chair and cursed at whomever it was that had just forced him back into consciousness. Whoever it was they were not shy about pressing the call button as it chimed two more time as he made his way across the room to answer the door. When he got there he paused for a moment and gave a second's wonder as to whom it might be before tapping a button just right of the door and letting it slide back to reveal whoever was in need of his attention. For some reason a sort of disappointment came to him when he saw the young Klingon officer standing before him. "What?' he asked with a tone that showed just how annoyed he was by the disruption.

"Sir! I was sent to inform you that we have arrived at Pyral IX as ordered."

Ignoring the officer's words for a moment Worf looked at the young Klingon with distaste. The soldier was obviously new, probably just out of training. This fact was immediately obvious as he looked as though he was about to jump out of his uniform and speed down the halls, or anything else that he was commanded to do. With a sigh Worf just shook his head as he couldn't believe someone so green had ended up serving aboard the flagship of the Klingon Empire. Pushing his reservations aside Worf placed a hand on the soldier's shoulder and gave him a nod with the words "Very well soldier." This action seemed to please the young officer as he smiled slightly before giving a crisp salute and turned away from Worf to make his way back down the hallway.

Finally the useless void he had slipped into would come to an end. To say this fact was a source of joy to Worf would be both a truth and a falsehood. The truth in it was that he was glad to finally be given the chance to do something, while the falsehood was that he wished the task before him involved anything other than what lay on the world below. Looking back into his candle lit room he paused for a moment and tried to think if there was any other task that needed his attention before he departed. When nothing came to mind he found himself taking a deep breath and exhaling it as the doors to his quarters slid close behind him and he made his way down the hallway.

Walking through the bowels of the Negh'Var he kept the thought of the transporter room, his destination, in mind. Focusing on where he was about to go he was completely oblivious to whatever else was happening around him. Passing by several soldiers they took notice that their stalwart leader had finally left his quarters and was once again roaming the halls before moving on. Given Worf's regal status one might think that they would pay more esteem to him as they passed, but they didn't. In the end Worf was just another Klingon soldier who fought and bled beside them on the field of battle. After all, he was not a god, nor were they blind soldiers with worship of him borne in. That perception was one that Worf could readily accept and in fact preferred.

With his mind focused Worf never stopped in his journey, nor did he slow his pace. After all his time spent as a soldier it was a trained and instinctual response by now. When you needed to go somewhere you went. If you had something to do then that is what you did. He gave no time for hesitation or distraction whenever he set his mind to something. This was the attitude he held all throughout his journey to the transporter room and was ended when he finally arrived.

Inside the small Klingon transporter room Worf found himself suddenly standing before its operator without a clear idea of what to say. He decided that a simple response would do as he looked the officer over. "Are they ready down there to receive me?"

"Yes sir, Regent. Commander Taegris himself sent his regards and welcomed you to come down at your convenience."

"Very well soldier," Worf replied as he walked away from the officer and stepped onto the transporter pad. "I'm ready." The Klingon opposite him gave a nod as he keyed up the sequence to beam Worf down to the planet's surface below. A moment later there was a flash of red brilliance and the gray transporter room around Worf was slowly replaced by light brown walls and a much brighter light level. When the cycle was complete Worf took in the changes around him as a man before him suddenly spoke.

"Ah Regent Worf, so nice of you to come. Let me welcome you to the Pyral IX prison facility." With the greeting the man extended a courteous hand and flashed an inviting smile.

"Commander Taegris," Worf said as he took the Bajoran's hand in his and gave it a firm shake. "Thank you for letting me come unannounced like this so suddenly."

With a slight change of tone the man simply asked, "How could I refuse the leader of the whole Alliance a tour of one of our top security prisons?"

Worf noticed that the tone change was almost sarcastic and got the impression that Taegris would rather have not been forced to play host to him, but that was simply unfortunate. The man was right, he was the leader of the whole Alliance, and if he wanted to visit one of their prisons then who could possibly refuse? No one that wanted to keep their position and their life intact.

The two of them stood there and simply looked at each, not sure of what needed to be said. Finally it was Taegris who said something. "Well Regent, if there's nothing further," he said with a gesture of his arm down the nearest hallway.

With the gesture Worf was knocked out of the momentary daze he found himself in and looked back at the Bajoran man. Seeing no reason to delay things further he simply gave a nod before taking a step forward and following Taegris down the concrete hallway.

As Worf walked beside him Taegris couldn't help but to look over at the vaunted leader of the Alliance and wonder why exactly he was here. In his entire tenure as the prison's warden the Regent had never come for a visit, no matter what the circumstances were. Even under the most dire situations someone much lower in the chain of command had always been sent to oversee matters. Now for Worf himself to suddenly and unexpectedly show up caused suspicion to grow in Taegris' mind. Was Worf planning on replacing him? Did he or someone else feel that his record didn't hold up anymore? These were the questions that raced through Taegris' mind. Walking on he did his best to hold back the rising tension he felt bubbling inside him and simply pushed it to the back of his mind.

Worf could feel Taegris' mood change from the seemingly friendly person that had greeted him to someone who was on edge. He knew that his presence often made people feel uncomfortable, as though their lives would be ended if they were to make a mistake in front of their leader, but Taegris had a decorated record and was hardly the fresh soldier that usually had such a reaction. Getting such a reaction from him caused Worf to wonder if something else was going on, but instead of letting that thought get out of hand he simply focused back on the matter that brought him here.

"And around this corner is where we have some of our less violent prisoners held in minimal security..." Taegris went on as though he were leading around a bunch of cadets. It was a role that he didn't enjoy at all, but with the leader of the Alliance being the one he was having to show around he could do nothing about it.

While Taegris went on with his directions and explanations Worf began to grow agitated at the man. A guided tour was not what he had in mind when he first sent the message that he would be arriving shortly. No, he had a specific thing in mind of what he needed to do, and this delay was causing him nothing but aggravation and annoyance. "I'm not here for a tour Taegris," he said with disdain, interrupting the man's speech.

Having his words interrupted caused Taegris to seethe. At that moment he didn't care who it was that he was having to parade around, but something in him held back anger that surely would have caused Taegris to hit Worf. Again he thought to himself about how much he wished that someone else was beside him and therefore didn't require such obedient patience from him. Instead of lashing out though he just calmly took in a deep breath before saying, "I know sir. I just thought that you might like a look around before you go and interrogate the prisoner."

"You thought wrong," Worf coldly said as he stepped in front of the man and began to walk down the hallway by himself. "Now, where is the prisoner that I need being held?" he asked over his shoulder, not bothering to turn and face the Bajoran commander in charge.

"If I may..." Taegris started, having finally decided that a question needed to be asked. Had he known what Worf's reaction would be he might have decided against it.

Turning on his heel Worf quickly found himself facing Taegris just as the words began to come from the Bajoran's mouth. In one motion he grabbed the commander's shirt by the collar and pulled him forward, bringing his cold eyes only inches from those of the Bajoran. "I don't know if you've noticed this, Commander, but we are in the middle of a war." There was a fierce, almost menacing tone to Worf's words as he spat them at Taegris, who was nearing the edge of fright at the Klingon's actions. "As such we don't have time to debate and argue over every little issue that may arise between us. Too much has been lost, too many people have been lost, for us to pause for even a moment against the Romulans."

"Yes of course, Regent," Taegris said wishing he could free himself of Worf's grip but too afraid to make any struggle of it. "I was only going to ask why you wanted to talk to that specific prisoner."

Looking at the Bajoran commander as he tried to redeem himself in Worf's eyes the Klingon suddenly realized exactly what he was doing. Without realizing it he had suddenly given a hand to the Romulans in their attempt to cause dissent between the Alliance members. This fact he vowed he would never face again as he carefully withdrew his grasp from Taegris' uniform and spoke to him with a more forgiving tone. "Simply, he is the most important prisoner the Alliance has ever captured. If we are to make our final push against the Romulans then he may be able to give us some help." As he turned away from Taegris an almost somber mood came to the mighty Klingon and as he stepped forward he uttered something else to which Taegris could barely make out. "And there's something personal I need from him."

Quickly Taegris rushed forward to catch up with Worf as he began back down the hall. Confusion ran through the Bajoran's mind at the hushed comment that Worf made and he couldn't help but wonder what possibly could the prisoner have that Worf needed personally. As far as Taegris knew Worf had seen the prisoner only once, and in that instance it had been too brief for anything to have come between them. This he thought about asking the powerful Klingon warrior, but when he looked at the expression on Worf's face he decided against it. Instead he decided to say something that he felt was necessary for the Regent to know. "I'm not sure what you can do sir, but we haven't gotten more than two words out of him since he was sent here four months ago."

"I know Taegris," Worf said back to the Bajoran commander indifferently. "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to get something from him."

"Could he really be that useful? It isn't like he was a high ranking officer in the Romulan Empire or anything."

"True, but he may still have something which we can use against the Romulans." Stopping in his stride forward Worf turned and looked at Taegris, this time with warmer eyes. Something was said in the look that Worf gave Taegris and in turn Taegris felt like he could do nothing but trust in his superior's judgment. "Now, where is he being held."

"Right this way Regent," Taegris said with a gesture of his hand. Worf gave a thankful nod before the two of them headed towards whatever it was that Worf was wanting of the prisoner.

As they walked on Taegris found himself looking back over at the Regent, yet this time the feeling he got was different. He almost felt bad for being suspicious of Worf and for giving him an attitude about showing him around. If he could agree with Worf on no other matter throughout the course of the war Taegris found he agreed that they couldn't allow petty things to come between them. They were on the verge of stopping the Romulan threat once and for all, and in the shadow of such a victory was hardly the time for some political wrangling. This Taegris kept in mind as they finally reached their destination. "Here we are sir." he said before fishing a card from his uniform's pocket and swiping it through a reader next to the door. A soft click was heard before Taegris took the door's handle and slowly opened it.

Stepping inside the cell Worf immediately noticed how comfortable it looked. The walls consisted of the same gray concrete that made up the rest of the facility. Before him Worf saw a metal table with a chair placed on either side and a small washbasin located just to his left. To his right lay a stiff mattress where the cell's occupant presently was. Noticing how well lit the room was and how pristine everything in it was Worf could do nothing but stand there and hold back the revulsion he felt that a prisoner of war could live so comfortably. He made a note to have the matter looked into more detail later.

"Will there be anything else Regent?" Taegris said behind him. Thinking of no present need for the man Worf waved him off. "I'll post a guard outside just in case you should need something." the Bajoran commander said crisply before turning and walking out.

Finally out of Taegris' presence Worf felt a part of himself relax. From the moment since he first beamed down Worf could feel an anger coming from the Bajoran. While he didn't know for certain what had bothered the man he knew that it was probably due to his arrival. Though he wouldn't admit it Worf felt bad for using his power as Regent to suddenly barge in and demand that he be allowed to speak to a prisoner under Taegris' care. He might have felt bad of the fact but he knew that it had been the right thing to do. In war, especially in times like the Alliance was currently facing, there simply wasn't the time for being patient and courteous. Worf knew that hundreds of thousands of Alliance citizens could be denied another day of life if he hesitated in his resolve. No, this simply wasn't the time to hesitate at all.

Stepping forward Worf looked down at the prisoner who lay sprawled across the mattress that looked back at him through slitted eyes. Whether Worf's presence was being ignored on purpose or not he couldn't tell, but he did know that it was time to get some answers from the man that lay at his feet. "Shrelik, I have some questions for you." he said coldly as he looked down at the blue skinned former general.

Lying there Shrelik looked back at the Klingon warrior and simply stared at him, showing no emotion nor speaking a word as he did so. He couldn't imagine why the leader of the entire Alliance would come to see him, but he didn't care either. For a long while now he had little regard for what happened to himself and as such he knew that there was not a thing that could be done to him to make him talk. This was a power he held over even the Regent himself, and knowing this fact caused a smile to come from deep within and grace his being for a slight moment before being buried deep down once more.

With Shrelik's refusal to respond to him Worf began to grow irritated with him. When he saw the small smile creep out the Klingon grew furiated. "You will answer them Shrelik," he said in a threatening tone.

"Oh?" was what the Andorian finally chose to reply with. "And what possibly will you do to me if I refuse to?" Shrelik's tone grew more and more cocky with each word, furiating Worf even more so. Exactly what the Andorian had wanted.

"Well how about I tell the council about these nice accommodations of yours. I'm sure once they hear of it I can convince them to move you to a less hospitable place. Perhaps Rura Penthe would be more fitting for you?"

"Go ahead and send me there," Shrelik coolly said. "I grew up on Andoria, which in case you've forgotten is an ice world. Well at least it used to be before you felt the need to betray an ally and unprovokingly bombarded it."

Staring at the Andorian Worf felt the hold on his temper slip and suddenly he found himself reaching down, grabbing Shrelik by his antennae, and pulling him up off the bed. In response Shrelik suddenly let out a scream of pain as Worf grinned. Finally the Andorian was giving him a reaction that Worf wanted. Slowly he removed his grip and slowly Shrelik opened his eyes, though he still winced slightly from the pain that had been inflicted upon him. "Now," Worf started in the cool tone that Shrelik had used, "I have some questions to ask of you."

"What possibly could you want from me?" Shrelik choked out as the pain started to recede and he began to regain his composure.

"Just some information, that's all. Now if you please," Worf then gestured toward one of the chairs.

Looking at Worf a wave of confusion could be seen on Shrelik's face. As far as he knew there was no reason for the Regent to be there and no question that he could think the man would need an answer to. Undoubtedly he would try and gain some tactical information about the Romulans from him. Hadn't he heard from the Bajoran in charge about how futile their efforts had been so far? Before the fall of Andoria he had been one of the top ranking generals in the Imperial Guard. Of course with that title came a multitude of secrets that were backed by years of training in resisting torture. Thanks to that training the Romulans had failed when they tried to torture information about the Alliance from him and the lackeys here had been equally fruitless. Taking a step forward and sliding down into the metal chair he wondered how many of these 'chats' it would take before they were convinced that the only information that he would tell would be whatever he was willing to.

Once Shrelik sat down the two looked at each other for a moment as neither moved. Then Worf slowly made a move for the chair opposite Shrelik, never taking his eyes off of the Andorian for a moment. He didn't know Shrelik that well, and as such he was unsure what to expect from him. Knowing that the man had once been a high-ranking general in the Andorian military was enough to force Worf to keep a close eye on him. With a rank such as his and the commendations that he had reportedly received Worf knew that the Andorian before him was nothing short of an expert soldier. That reason was enough for Worf to be cautious with the man as he sat down opposite him.

Staring across the table at Shrelik Worf thought about which question to ask of him first. He knew that there was one question that stood out in his mind and that demanded an answer. Pausing on the question for a moment though he didn't feel like it was the best to open with. Instead he decided to ask a question that the Andorian was surely expecting. "What are the deployment locations for the Romulan fleet?"

"How predictable," Shrelik said with a grunt of disgust. "All you Alliance cookie-cut soldiers think about are the Romulans and all you want is to have me tell you how to destroy them. Don't you have any room in that brain of yours to appreciate the finer points to life?"

"What is the Romulan's fleet deployment?" Worf asked again with a more pressing tone.

As the question was asked a second time Shrelik simply replied with a shake of his head and an almost muffled laugh. "You fool. Do you really think the Romulans would tell me something like that? They didn't trust me anymore than you do now. And besides, it's been four months since my capture. Don't you think that their fleet has been redeployed since then? Especially if you have been pushing back their borders as much as those obtuse guards have been gloating about."

Leaning back in his chair Worf thought about Shrelik's comment for a moment. It did make sense that the Romulans would redeploy their fleet in response to the recent Alliance attacks. Even if the war had been at a standstill to assume that the Romulans would still have their ships in the same locations after four months was simply foolish. In his mind Worf crossed the question off his list and decided on his next question. "All right, what are the Romulan's defensive plans for the Romulus system?"

With the mention of the Romulan homeworld Shrelik's interest was suddenly caught and he leaned forward with just a bit of surprise coming from his eyes. "Are you really planning on attacking Romulus head on?" Shrelik asked Worf, making no attempt to hide the shock from his voice.

Bringing his hands together Worf simply looked back across the table at Shrelik and let the question sit in the air for a moment as if to add dramatic effect to his reply. "If we are to win this war then we have to take out Romulus eventually, don't we?" he asked of the Andorian as he drew his hands apart.

"That's true I suppose," Shrelik replied as he reeled back from the shock he had felt. "But you are assuming that you will win this war." With that comment a smug tone returned to Shrelik's voice and an arrogance returned to his being as he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Worf with a tangible superiority.

Shrelik's sudden return to arrogance caused a bit of anger to form in Worf. It wasn't enough for him to make an issue of it though and he simply pushed it aside as he pressed his latest point. "If you knew anything about what was going on out there then surely you would be wishing that Andor was still an Alliance world. We are now engaged in the last push of this war that will bring victory into our hands and the destruction of the Romulan Empire. And on that glorious day when our honor is proven to be the one saving grace that those green-blooded pa'tahq's couldn't rip from us and we stand on the green coated world of Romulus then even you will be ready to praise us." As he related this glorious speech to the Andorian heretic before him his voiced boomed with an excitement-layered tone usually reserved only for stirring speeches to the troops. For some reason though it seemed different than before. Worf couldn't understand why but it seemed as though he actually believed his words this time. For the first time since losing his imzadi he felt a passion creep into his being that he thought had been lost for good, and for the first time in a long while he truly believed the Romulans would be defeated. With his words he had held a rather stoic posture full of the unwavering arrogance only a Klingon could know. With his thoughts though he suddenly found himself being drawn back away from the precipice and was forced to take in these suddenly reawakened emotions for further consideration.

At Worf's words the Andorian found himself thinking in his own right. The grandeur fashion in which Worf portrayed himself and the entire Alliance was something he found he couldn't help but to admire. During his time spent with the Romulans he had witnessed no such thing, and he found that he had missed it. The Romulans seemed to him to have been too cloak and dagger and saw the war with the Alliance not as something to be reveled and enjoy, but merely as a task on their list of things to do. Though they fought and bled as much as the Alliance they lacked such a passion about it as to make one almost think that they didn't care whether they won this war or not. Certainly they knew that an Alliance victory would cause their own destruction and thus fought with every measure they could, but they were so casual about it, that it had caused Shrelik to long for the warrior passion he had seen in battle when he fought alongside his Klingon and Breen allies. This line of thought brought a question to his mind. "May I ask a question of you Worf?" he asked of the Klingon, dropping his smug attitude and hoping to find a common ground with the man before him.

When Shrelik spoke it was Worf's turn to look back in confusion. Not only was he surprised that Shrelik had a question for him, but in the way that he had suddenly asked permission for that question. Worf now saw the man before him not as a traitor, nor as some Romulan collaborator, but as the true soldier he had once been. This change in Worf's view made him see Shrelik as an equal for the first time since the fall of the Andorian civilization. Normally he would not dare allow someone to question him, but in this instance he really couldn't see harm in doing so. Slowly he nodded his head and gestured for Shrelik to continue.

With Worf's approval the Andorian wetted his lips and took in a lung filling breath as he readied himself. This question had been on his mind for three long years and now that he was finally being given the chance to ask it he wanted to make sure that it was clearly understood and that Worf would be given the chance to give him a satisfying answer. Looking at the Regent with a bittersweet gaze he asked, "Why did you destroy my homeworld and exterminate my people? We were your allies. We had done nothing against the Klingons or anyone else in the Alliance, especially nothing to merit that a holocaust be brought down upon us. So why, Regent Worf, would you give that order?"

As the questions hit Worf he found himself reeling back both physically and mentally. These questions of Shrelik's were not ones that Worf had expected him to ask, and to say that he was merely taken back by them would be a pale description of how he truly felt. Unable to look at the Andorian for the moment Worf suddenly stood up from his chair and turned away. "It's....hard to explain," Worf found himself saying as his words began to falter and his mind began to fall back to memories of Deanna and the pain he felt in the wake of her death.

Seeing this change in Worf caused Shrelik to wonder not what the answer might be, but whether asking the question was really the best thing to do. Though Worf had become his enemy on that day three years ago he found now that his desire to cause the man harm was suddenly quelled. Something about the way the stoic leader carried himself in that moment made a part of Shrelik pity the man and wish he hadn't have asked the questions that he did. But that part was silenced by another part. For three years he had wondered why his people had been slaughtered, almost to the point that it had become an obsession for him. To him this question held as much importance as any philosophical or theological question that the universe could come up with. It was important that he knew, and he wasn't about to let it go unanswered just because of how it made one man feel. "Please," he said in a desperate yet sympathetic tone, "I need to know."

In hearing the Andorian's words Worf could also hear the emotions that Shrelik put behind them. To Worf it was very painful to hint at anything connected to that day when he had lost Deanna and the subsequent actions he had taken in revenge. At the mere thought of speaking about it he could feel his emotional barriers swell in strain to hold it all back and he wished in that moment that Shrelik's question had entailed anything else. Taking a brief glance over his shoulder at the Andorian as he awaited an answer Worf found his lips parting and words come from them, though it felt very much like those words were coming from someone else entirely. "It was for her." he choked out, "It was all for her. My lovely Deanna, my imzadi."

The destruction of his race, all caused because one woman had been murdered. This revelation should have sent Shrelik into a fury that was often spoken of but rarely seen; yet it didn't come to him. There was something in the way that Worf had told him this revelation mixed with a tangible pain that caused Shrelik to sympathize with the wounded Klingon before him. Though in some way he could understand Worf's reason there was still a big question in his mind that he couldn't help but to ask. "Is the love of a woman worth the destruction of an entire species?"

The question that Shrelik had asked of Worf stung him to the core and suddenly he felt an almost animalistic rage boil up inside him. How dare this Andorian question him and his resolve! How dare he spit at him as though he was more just! And most importantly, how dare he soil the memory of Deanna by devaluing her in such a way! Deep inside of him Worf felt those emotional dams suddenly spill over and burst and in a blind rage he gave a primal yell before spinning quickly around and grabbing Shrelik by the throat. He wanted to squeeze the breath out of him as well as rip out the tongue that had questioned his love for Deanna. As he strangled the man Worf expected Shrelik to put up some sort of a fight, give some resistance in an attempt to keep himself alive, but none was given. Instead Shrelik simply looked on with an odd calmness that seemed to echo some sort of understanding for what Worf was doing. This in concert with the pain of losing Deanna would prove too much for the stolid Klingon to bear and suddenly his grip loosened from around Shrelik's neck and he simply collapsed into the chair behind him, both mentally and emotionally exhausted.

While Worf had made his attempt to strangle the life from Shrelik the Andorian had decided to simply sit there and made no attempt to stop him. Something in his mind had told him that Worf would stop before he was actually dead. If that something had been wrong and he had died at the Klingon's hands then it didn't matter that much to him anymore. He had already lost everything he had ever once cared for. In essence he had become just an empty shell that floated through life day by day with little purpose. Worse yet was that in his drifting he had found himself the unlikely pawn that had been pitted in between the Romulans and the Alliance. The thought sickened him the moment it came to him and it did so almost to the point where he actually wished for death. Oh how far he had spiraled down from those blissful days on Andoria when he had done nothing but enjoy Tayshra's company.

Silence enveloped the two warriors then as they both became lost in their own remembrances of long gone bliss. Unknown to either of them was the fact that they were thinking along the same lines, though they felt like there was nothing that could be said in that moment. After a few moments passed Shrelik suddenly spoke, though he would never figure out why. "I had a wife once," Shrelik said indifferently and seemingly to no one in particular as he stared off into his memories.

When Shrelik spoke it came as no surprise to Worf that he did, only what the Andorian chose to say came as a surprise to him. He hadn't known that Shrelik had been mated to anyone. Of course, when he thought further on it, he realized he knew next to nothing of the man. Curiosity over what had happened to her appeared in Worf's mind, though he chose not to voice that curiosity for fear it might bring the Andorian down to the emotional depth he was currently at. That was a depth he felt he could not wish even his most hated enemy to be brought down to.

Though Worf did not voice his curiosity Shrelik could almost sense that the Klingon was wondering what had happened to his wife, to his lovely Tayshra. It took no real effort to figure this out as it seemed to be the natural thought one suddenly had when they heard of someone referred to in the past tense. They always wondered what had happened to them. The thought of Tayshra stung Shrelik in the same fashion that the thought of Deanna stung Worf. Even with this reason to hold back an explanation he saw no purpose to it and simply spoke.

"Tayshra was a very beautiful woman. She had the fairest shade of blue that I think I have ever seen on an Andorian woman. There was a grace about her that made everyone's antennae stand up in recognition and she simply had the personality that would be the envy of anyone that met her. She simply was amazing. And now...." It was at this point that Shrelik's words too began to falter as emotions welled up inside him. Whenever he had told this story in his mind he had always been able to get from beginning to end without so much as a pause. But in actually saying the words out loud he found the task much harder to do. With a hard swallow he pushed his feelings down and bit his lip as he finished his story. "Well, I left her on Jassik Prime when I returned to the Imperial Guard. Right after Andoria joined the Alliance."

The statement hit Worf like a concrete brick. With the statement came a revelation that he could not simply shrug off. Jassik Prime had once been a very nice, very quite world. It was a world just inside the Andorian border, and though the decision seemed to ask for trouble, it been inhabited by a completely civilian population. Without a sign of military intervention it had been deemed a truly beautiful and safe place for the weary and for those that wanted a more loving and simpler life. This attitude had seemed to make the world a perfect target for the Romulans when they had decided to punish the Andorians for joining the Alliance.

It was in this reason that Worf found himself truly hating the Romulans. They simply had no honor. To attack a world that was defenseless and was full of people who only wished to stay out of the crossfire was truly an honorless act and one of extreme cowardice. That cowardice aside though, their attack had been a thorough one. Worf could still remember the casualty list that had come to him after that attack and one phrase that still echoed through his mind; no survivors. Taking this fact in mind Worf suddenly pitied Shrelik, until suddenly a questioned appeared in his mind. "If the Romulans killed your mate, then how could you...?" he began to ask, but for someone reason the words could not come to him.

"How could I help them?" Shrelik suddenly finished Worf's question as the Klingon looked on in absolute confusion. Leaning back and looking up at the plasma fluorescent ceiling he took Worf's question in thought for a moment before he replied. "That is a good question, Worf. One that I have asked myself a number of times." Moving his gaze back to Worf he thought for a moment in an attempt to come up with the best possible answer. When nothing substantial came to him he simply said what was on his mind. "I guess in the end the destruction of my people outweighed the destruction of my wife." Worf suddenly drew in a breath, showing the Andorian his surprise at the statement. "That's a terrible thing to say, but it's all I can come up with. That and maybe that part of me blamed the Alliance for Tayshra's death as well. I mean, if we had stayed neutral in your war with the Romulans then they wouldn't have attacked Jassik Prime."

"Maybe not at that time Shrelik, but the Romulans would have come after the Andorians as soon as the Alliance fell," Worf said in an attempt to bring some justification to the man for what had happened. "Your leaders understood this and decided that they could not simply sit back and wait for the Romulans to come knocking on Andor's doorstep."

"You might be right Worf. They might have destroyed Jassik Prime and Tayshra after all. But if we hadn't have joined the Alliance then there would have been no reason for me to rejoin the Imperial Guard. Then at least I could have been there with her when the Romulans came to murder her."

The sentiment behind Shrelik's words rang truer in Worf's being then perhaps anything that he had heard in many years. In that moment he felt like he completely understood the man before him and suddenly a bond was formed between them, created out of shared loss and shared emotions they felt about that loss. From this bond there seemed to be a new resolve form in Worf, a resolve he felt needed to be shared with Shrelik.

"I know exactly how you feel Shrelik," Worf said in a sobering tone as the Andorian tried to bury his sense of loss back down within him and wondered how exactly this Klingon knew how he felt. "When the Andorian terrorists killed Deanna it spiraled me down into such a rage, one that I felt would only be put out by the fires of a burning Andor. In the end though I guess that rage ultimately was due onto myself for not being with her in her final moments." With those words the bond was solidified between these two soldiers and Shrelik finally understood some things that had plagued him these past few years. "I'm sorry," Worf suddenly said, "that I destroyed your world."

To hear an apology come from the leader of the Alliance was truly a momentous occasion, but it was one whose meaning was lost on Shrelik. "Too many mistakes have been made in this war, too many unnecessary losses have been caused. I guess what they say is true; you really can never go home again. I just never thought it was meant so literally." As the comment washed over them another silence came as both Shrelik and Worf wondered what should be done next. It was Shrelik though who finally voiced that thought.

What to do next? That was truly a question that Worf felt he could not answer alone. Looking back across the table at the Andorian and feeling the connection they now shared only one thing came to mind. It was a point that had all but been driven to death, but he felt like it needed to be said once more in this new light. "Help me Shrelik, help me to defeat the Romulans. Help me make sure that no more innocents die at their hands or at the hands of any other soldier. Help me to bring an end to this war."

Had Worf posed that question to him five minutes earlier he would have scoffed the whole thing off as another pathetic attempt to try and use as a pawn against the Romulans. In hearing Worf's tale of Deanna and in sharing his own about Tayshra he felt that this was anything but an attempt. This instance seemed to be a general plea for aid in stopping the Romulans and the death once and for all. Throughout this war everyone had seen a great deal of death, though Shrelik felt he could probably claim the title of seeing the most. He had grown weary of the constant winking out of lives and of places and if there was a chance he could help bring about its end he felt that he had to give that chance everything he had. "I'll do it," he slowly said, "but there will have to be some concessions on your part. The first being that I get released from here and be given a chance to really help."

At the mention of the word concession Worf's mind became paralyzed with suspicion that Shrelik may suddenly prove to be more foe then friend. That stigma he found was something that needed to be gotten over. After all, Shrelik was just asking to once again be considered an equal within the Alliance ranks. Hadn't he suffered enough to deserve that priveldge? "I'll have to speak with the council before I can give you amnesty, but otherwise...." With Worf's trailing words came the extension of his hand. There was an almost dramatic pause for a moment before Shrelik took the Klingon's hand and gave it a firm shake. Somewhere within Worf he felt like this shake would result in the crippling blow that would end the Romulan Empire.


	17. Home Fires

_Chapter Seventeen: Home Fires_

Mission  
While the Alvex is docked for repairs Duren takes the opportunity to enjoy some long over due rest at his home on Cardassia Prime. Convinced that after what transpired at the Narendra Conference it's finally time for Dukat to return home he invites his new friend, only to find that everyone's reaction to him isn't so welcome.  
Mission Date:  
241st day in the 2369th of Molar

There was a sudden jolt to the ship around him as it entered the planet's atmosphere. With the inertial dampeners working the jolt was barely noticeable, but it was enough to knock Duren from his thoughts and back to focus upon the reality that surrounded him.

Home. Duren had finally been given the chance to return home from the torments of war and given the chance for some rest in his small home on Cardassia Prime. After several fierce missions the Alvex had limped its way back to the docks for repairs, thus giving its crew the chance for some much needed leave. Duren knew that while taking a break during a war seemed to be a bother to some soldiers, he found himself welcoming the respite. It wasn't as though he wanted to desert the war effort or his peoples struggle against the Romulans completely, but after fighting so hard for so long he felt he deserved his own share of time on the sidelines.

With some time off the hardest thing he knew he would be faced with was where to go while the Alvex was under repairs. That question was answered in his mind before he could even finish asking it. He would be going back to the small villa that he owned just outside of the capital, back to his home and to the home his family had known for three generations. Duren found that when your life is constantly thrown into peril there seems to be one wish that always breathes just in the back of your mind. That wish is to return home and to the ones you care about. Having focused on his military career Duren had no family that would be waiting for him, save for maybe his housekeeper Leshka, but still he found himself wishing to return to the quiet serenity that his home offered.

Now that the small craft he was in had broken through the atmosphere he felt free to look out a window placed behind him down upon his beautiful home world. Cardassia Prime was truly a magnificent world, and his heart swam with pride the moment his eyes laid upon it. In his tenure as a soldier for this world Duren had seen a great many places and quite a few of those had captured his attention. None of them though possessed the raw and awesome beauty that Cardassia Prime seemed to possess. With his commission and the various responsibilities that it entailed he was hardly ever given the chance to return home. The fact that a brutal war was raging on seemed to hinder his chances of coming home almost to the fact that a homecoming was impossible. As he sat there and thought about it he decided that his tour of military duty had been fulfilling enough for one lifetime and that the moment the Romulans were crushed under the Alliance's heel he would retire and focus back on the finer pleasures of life.

While these thoughts dwelled in his mind he couldn't help but to think about something else. Knowing his love for this world and how much his absence from it had caused him harm he suddenly felt guilty as he turned back around and looked at his two traveling companions; Dukat and his daughter Ziyal.

Months had passed since Duren had last been able to set foot on the soil of his home, but for the two of them it had been several years. After talking with his hero Dukat he had learned that, like him, the man had a deep appreciation for this world of theirs. Before being cast off into exile as a traitor to the state Dukat had been a hero to the Cardassian people and had done their world a great many services. In speaking with him Duren had learned that these services had been done not in the hope for some petty and material gain, but in the hope that through those services the world of Cardassia Prime would grow better and its people stronger. Even after his world had abandoned him and his people turned their back on him did he keep this mentality, and for it Duren found a whole new respect for the man.

That mentality had ironically ended up saving both him and his daughter from the harshness of life that had set in since their exile. While his people had turned him into a pariah Dukat had still felt that desire to help them that had made him revered. Even though they had pushed him directly into harms way he still felt the need to steer them back onto the right path and help them become the strong people he knew they deserved to be. His wanting to find a way to help them had served to in fact help himself when Duren's friend Tierzak had found the Cardassian pair hiding in seclusion on the desolate and hostile world of Tesslak Prime. Through his desire to find some way to help his people Dukat and Ziyal had been able to help Duren to shed light on where Overseer Seven's true loyalties laid. By doing so it had cleared his daughters name, and his name as well, thus giving them the chance to return home and return to whatever semblance of a normal life that they could accomplish.

Sitting there and looking at them Duren recalled the conversation he had had with Dukat when it was decided that he and his daughter would come with Duren and stay at his villa while on leave. Surprisingly enough Dukat had not jumped at the chance to return home like Duren had assumed. There was something in Dukat's voice that bordered on reluctance at the thought of returning to Cardassia Prime, and it was not something that Duren had expected to hear from him. He assumed that Dukat would be overjoyed that he would finally be able to return home and to once again see the world that he held so dear. A completely different feeling though had come from him and it wasn't until they were about to leave the orbital docks did Duren find out exactly what had brought that feeling about.

Looking at Ziyal he had become suddenly clear as to her father's reluctance. The girl had only been to Cardassia Prime once in her life, and on that occasion she had been brought as a tool to humiliate and discredit the father to whom she had never met. Aside from this reason to stay away from Cardassia Prime there was another reason; she was half Bajoran. There were many on his world that believed their strength laid in their genetic purity and seeing one of their noble heroes with a half breed child was nothing short of an affront to their being. Her position was even weaker due to the fact that her mother, Tora Naprem, had been a servant of Dukat's. With these facts in mind it was easy to see why some people had called for his banishment the moment Ziyal had been revealed, and why the girl feared returning to this world.

While Dukat had not immediately accepted Ziyal as his daughter Duren learned that he had chosen to do whatever he could for her. Being both so suddenly without their home or the life they had on that home the pair had been drawn together and a bond of shared troubles had been formed. Now Dukat would do anything to protect his daughter, and knowing that her past made her fear his world had caused his reluctance in returning himself. While understanding this Duren had still made an attempt to convince them to return with him to their home. It had not been a quick decision, nor an easy one, but in the end they had decided they could hide from their fears no longer. When they agreed to come Duren had been overjoyed, and to himself he had silently promised that he would show Ziyal that Cardassia Prime was her world as well.

A pilot seated just to Duren's left suddenly told the three passengers that they were about to land at the capital's spaceport. As the chance to be stepping on home soil drew ever nearer Duren found himself grow surprisingly excited. He knew that finally being able to come home was an exciting matter, but to feel excitement like this was not what he had been expecting. This was the feeling that one would assume a young officer to have, not a seasoned veteran such as himself. Feeling the shuttle begin its landing sequence he brushed the feeling off and reflected about how hard the past months had been on him since last he was home. He was definitely in need of this time for peace and quite.

Once the shuttle landed Ziyal grabbed the small bag that she had insisted on bringing with her, saying that she didn't trust the orbital docks crew to transport it down with the rest of their belongings. After giving the pilot a brief thanks of appreciation for flying them down Duren looked at the two Cardassians as they waited for him to take the lead. They would apparently be nervous to the last. Stepping ahead of them and taking the lead Duren walked to the shuttle's hatch and tapped a command onto a nearby panel. In response the hatch suddenly split horizontally across its middle and folded out. The moment it opened a bright and almost blinding light poured through the opening and lit up the shuttle's dark interior. Squinting slightly Duren stepped out of the shuttle and onto his world. He was followed quickly by Dukat and Ziyal. "Welcome home Dukat," Duren said as he turned to look at the man that stood behind him, "and Ziyal."

The moment he was clear of the shuttle Dukat inhaled a large part of the surrounding air and exhaled it with a smile. "Now that's the air that I've been missing these past few years." he said to no one in particular. "The air of my people, the air of my home."

Duren immediately took notice of how Dukat's mood changed with that breath. There was a new energy, a new hope that suddenly became present in his being. It was something that he had not seen in the man in the whole time that he had known him. It was something that he had probably been void of ever since that fateful day when he had been forced off of this world he called home. Now though he was home, and able to once more enjoy the rich pleasures that Cardassia Prime offered its people. Seeing a smile finally make its way upon his hero's face made the war and everything else wrong in the universe suddenly seem so far away. It was a moment that Duren felt he could enjoy even more knowing how happy Dukat was feeling.

Making their way away from the shuttle and through the crowded spaceport Duren couldn't help but to look over at Ziyal to check on how she was doing. Nervousness could be sensed from her as she walked closely beside her father, but Duren thought he could feel something else coming from the girl. There was almost a fascination to her as she looked about the spaceport and the world that lay beyond. Having grown up and lived entirely on her mother's world of Bajor she had led a simpler and calmer life then the one that she saw around her. It appeared almost as if a quiet farmer had finally decided to venture into the big city and had become so overwhelmed the moment they had first stepped within the city limits. Duren knew that while she was nervous about what would happen to her and her father on this world, those nerves were being overshadowed by the strange excitement that she was feeling as she became lost in the surrounding bustle. It was an excitement that Dukat felt as well, as he was finding it hard to keep himself quiet.

"And then over on Lakara Street there is this diner that serves the best Red Leaf Tea, or at least they did last time I was here. Oh there was this one time when I went in there and..."

As Duren heard Dukat excitedly tell his stories to Ziyal he found he couldn't help but to smile. Watching his hero acting so carefree and so happy as they walked from the spaceport pushed away any remnants of worry that still dwelled in his mind. It seemed as though all of their worries had been in vain and the three of them would be given the chance to peacefully enjoy their stay. Once they exited the spaceport and made their way onto the capital's streets the inevitable finally happened as Dukat was recognized.

"Hey is that..." Duren heard someone quietly mutter nearby.

"Yeah that's Dukat." came another voice. "I wonder what he's doing back here. I thought he was exiled."

As more and more people began to whisper about Dukat's presence Ziyal became more and more nervous. Slowly she reached behind her head and grabbed the hood of her cloak, ready to pull it forward and cover her face from the gazing crowd. Seeing this Dukat placed a hand on his daughter's and looked at her as he spoke.

"No Ziyal, you don't have to hide your face. You're among your own people here and you needn't feel you have to hide from them any longer."

"But father," she weakly replied as she looked back, concern heavily reflected in her eyes. Some might think that concern was for her own well being, but both Dukat and Duren knew better. Among these people she did not fear for herself, but rather for her father. She knew well how they viewed him because of her, and she didn't want to feel like an embarrassment to him any longer.

"Your father is right Ziyal," Duren suddenly added as he turned to look upon the young girl. "These people are your people just as much as they are your father and me. No one is going to mistreat you here. We won't allow it."

Looking back at the comforting looks that both Duren and her father wore Ziyal felt her misgivings diminish and she couldn't help but to trust in their words. She was still fearful that her presence would bring unnecessary attention to her father, and thus harm him in some way, but with her trust she just let the cloak's hood fall back to rest on her shoulders. After giving each other a satisfied smile the three of them turned back around and began down the street.

Unknown to them as they walked on was the true reason why Dukat's sudden return home was causing so many to whisper. They assumed the reason was due to his being cast off and exiled several years ago, and that like those in power they were upset by his return. The crowd's reaction though was quite a different one. Despite the events that had transpired to humiliate and discredit the man the people still saw him as a hero. They still remembered all the good he did for them, and how he had done that good without any call for reward. While the government had spent some time after his departure working on a slew of propaganda against him that propaganda had fallen on deaf ears. The Cardassian people were not as dumb and as gullible as their government believed. So as he walked on Dukat was not surrounded by hushed words of hate, but rather hushed words of reverence.

Quietly the crowd grew as more and more people took notice of their icon's presence. As the crowd grew so did the ill feelings of Duren and his companions. Glancing around at those that stared back at them Duren began to wonder what exactly it was they were whispering about, and why they were even whispering at all. The crowd in turn was wondering why Dukat had suddenly returned. Several of those that watched on thought about approaching Dukat and asking the man where he had been and why he chose now to return, yet none found they could. Silently they just stared at him, immobilized by their own questions. The group of Duren, Dukat, and Ziyal traveled quite a distance from the spaceport and nearly the entire length to Duren's home when someone finally broke from the crowd to speak.

"Dukat!" a small voice cried out. The voice caused the trio to stop and turn as suddenly a small boy came rushing from the crowd towards them. He was chased after by a young woman as he called out Dukat's name again.

Dukat looked beside him at Duren for a moment with a curious look. Both of them stood there and were puzzled as to what this boy could want as he approached. When he reached them Dukat slowly bent down and looked at the boy at eye's level.

"Are you really Dukat?" the boy suddenly asked, not waiting for the man before him to speak. A hand suddenly appeared on the boy's shoulder as his mother grabbed him.

"Yes I am. And what's you name?" Dukat asked as he smiled back at the boy.

"My name's Kyrin," the boy said as he smiled back.

"Nice to meet you Kyrin." Slowly Dukat moved his hand forward in a greeting to the small boy in front of him.

The boy placed his hand in Dukat's and looked at him for a moment before he blurted out another question. "Where have you been Mister Dukat?"

"I had some things to do Kyrin. Important stuff and I had to leave to do it."

"Oh," came the boy's response as he thought for a moment. It seemed like a good enough reason to him, but that thought quickly faded in his mind as the most important question of all surfaced. "So are you here to stay now?" he asked hopeful.

Dukat looked back over his shoulder at Duren who just stood there, not quite knowing what to say. A big grin came to Dukat as he turned back to face the boy. "You bet," he simply said before ruffling the kid's hair.

"I'm so sorry for him, Dukat." Kyrin's mother said apologetically. "I tried to tell him not to bother you, but he just had to come and see for himself if it was really you."

"It's not a bother at all," Dukat said as he stood to greet the woman. "A boy's got to be given the chance to ask the questions on his mind."

"Yes, but still..."

As Dukat and the boy's mother talked the attitude of the crowd changed. Seeing how Dukat reacted to the boy's questions they suddenly didn't feel so afraid to ask their own. Slowly more and more people began to break from the crowd of spectators and approached the man that they had been watching and wondering about.

Watching as the crowd moved out of the distance and into Dukat's presence Duren couldn't help but to smile anew. Deep down he knew that more people shared his adoration for Dukat then the government would like to have known. Despite what had been said to diminish society's view of him these people still knew all the good he did for them before being exiled those years ago. They still knew that he was an honorable man, and one that deserved recognition.

Looking at Dukat, who was now in between Duren and a small crowd, Duren noticed something about his companion's mood. Dukat was loving the attention he was getting. Duren knew that while everyone enjoyed some positive attention from time to time he would have never assumed Dukat to be someone who ate up that attention so completely. Thinking on it a reason began to form in Duren's mind about why Dukat had insisted that they shuttle down to the planet rather then just transport down directly to his villa. He had thought the reason was that Dukat wanted a chance to once again see the bustling cityscape the capital had to offer. Now though Duren realized that Dukat hadn't been so much interested in the architecture of the capital, but rather its people. More to the point he had wanted them to notice him and notice that their hero Dukat had finally returned home.

Shaking his head slightly Duren turned his attention away from Dukat and his adoring fans and looked at Ziyal, who quietly stood off just a ways from her father. With Dukat's attention turned towards the crowd it had been turned away from his daughter. This was probably the first time such a thing had happened in a long while, if ever, to the young girl as she appeared to be very nervous and vulnerable. Slowly Duren took a step forward and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. At his touch she jumped slightly before noticing it was Duren's hand that rested on her shoulder. Looking back at him she mustered a weak smile before slipping back into whatever world she was in. Seeing Ziyal like this made Duren concerned for her slightly and he decided that it would be best if they finished their journey to his villa. "Dukat, I think it's time to be moving on," he said, making sure his tone was a friendly one and wouldn't hint at the concern he was feeling.

Over all the words and attention being given to him Dukat just barely was able to make out Duren's words. Having been away from his people for so long he was rather enjoying this opportunity to mingle with them, and he hated to pull away from it. He knew that it was something that he should do though. Turning away from them and looking upon his daughter the thought about leaving became a necessity and he found himself suddenly and grudgingly telling his crowd of fans that he had to depart. "I must go now," he said in such a way that the Cardassian arrogance was obvious, "but don't worry, I'm staying on the planet. For good."

Several of those that stood before him made sounds of disappointment as Dukat bid them farewell and a few even asked him to stay for just a bit longer. This of course just served as more fodder for the man's ego and with a grin he promised to give each of them a chance to talk with him soon. The scene left nothing for Duren to do but simply shake his head at them and their awe of the man before them. He knew that his people respected Dukat and were grateful for all that he had done for them, but this sudden rush of worship seemed just a bit over the edge for Duren. When Dukat reached him he simply shrugged their reactions off as both of them, along with Ziyal, returned to the walking pace that would lead them to Duren's villa.

The rest of their trip was rather quiet as no one else chose to approach Dukat. Several people noticed him as they walked along, but none dared more then a friendly wave. Dukat himself had returned to his excited story telling to Ziyal, who enjoyed listening to every fascinating detail that he related to her. Duren walked slightly in front of the pair, leading them to their destination. This sense that the group had returned to after dealing with the crowd was a sense that he preferred. While he resented neither the crowd's reaction to Dukat's homecoming or Dukat's eagerness to speak with them Duren had still wished to be done with them quickly. It wasn't anything against the situation, but now that he was planetside he was really looking forward to stepping through the doors of his home and greeting his housekeeper Leshka before finally kicking up his feet to rest.

It had been a long thirteen months since he had last set foot upon this world. Thirteen months. When he said it in his head it really didn't seem like such a brief amount of time had really passed. To him it felt as though several years had passed and that his home had surely changed in such a long absence. This feeling he attributed to all that he had done since last enjoying the calm that his home offered.

Since his last visit to Cardassia Prime he had been involved in the plan that he and Tierzak had come up with to discredit Seven and bring about her removal from the position of Overseer. Looking over his shoulder for a moment he briefly looked at the pair that he could now claim as friends and realized that when he last left this world of theirs they had not even met. It was in fact the secret mission to go and rendezvous with Tierzak in the Venru sector that had last called him away. Giving way to a brief smile Duren found it amusing that so much had happened and so much had change since then. Were he to have been asked there was no way he would have believed that all that had happened over the past year would come true. Both the preparation and execution of his plan had caused a considerable strain on him, but it had all been worth it. While the sudden appearance by the Klingon Commander Koltarn at the Narendra Conference had cast some doubt off of Seven's loyalties, her subsequent abandonment of custody and in fact the whole Alliance had played right into his hands. Now she was an exile herself, not being heard from nor seen since the conference, and Duren had been bestowed a new level of respect by his peers and commanding officers. Yes, it had all ended well for him, and now that it had ended all he wished for was a moment's rest from this campaign before he rejoined the Alliance's campaign against the Romulans.

Just barely at the capital's fringe a truly welcome sight came to Duren's battle weary eyes. There before him was the main building of his small villa and he could just make out the small adobe walls that ran along the edge of his property. As if to make the scene all the more beautiful the sun high above their heads cast down upon his villa to create what looked to be the shadows of a truly remarkable home; and to Duren it was indeed remarkable. Were he holding something then surely he would have dropped it in awe of seeing his home and in response his jaw dropped slightly as if to see how sweet the air of the moment was.

"Is this your villa?" Ziyal asked, awestruck instantly apparent in her voice.

It took a moment before Duren responded as he had been swept away in the beauty that was before him. "Yes," he muttered as he registered Ziyal's question and came back to reality. "This is the place that my family and I have claimed as home for three generations."

"It's beautiful," Ziyal suddenly said as she took in the whole scene before her and felt it overwhelm her senses.

"Yes it truly is," agreed Dukat.

At hearing these words of praise Duren couldn't help but smile as his jaw returned to its normal place. After allowing one more second to enjoy the moment he had found himself in he took in a deep breath and regained his composure before taking a step forward. When he reached the door of his home he paused once again as he placed his hand on the door's knob. Taking in one final breath of the sweet air that surrounded him he gestured his two companions closer before opening the door wide on its hinges and ending his tiresome trek with a final step that brought him within the inviting confines of home.

"Leshka?" he called out as he made his way deeper into his home's main room. As he called out for his housekeeper again he stood at the room's center and let its warmth wrap around his being before looking back at Ziyal and Dukat. "Go ahead and place that where you want," he said to Ziyal, eyeing the bag that she still clung to. "There are three separate bedrooms upstairs and a full guest bathroom that you are both welcome to." Both Dukat and his daughter found themselves simply staring at the lavishly decorated room and barely registered Duren's offer. "I'm going to go and find Leshka," Duren simply said before walking out of the room and leaving the two to enjoy the wonders that his home offered.

With his guests and his home's main room behind him Duren began to wander about the house for Leshka. She had been his housekeeper for as long as he could remember and because of this a bond had grown between them. To Duren she was like a second mother, and he knew that she would be just as excited to see him as he was of seeing her.

His first instinct pulled him toward the kitchen, knowing how she always seemed to be trying some new and zesty recipe to be approved by the neighborhood. When he saw she wasn't there he paused in his search for a moment and let his mind race through the possibilities. Calling out her name again he decided on where she must be and he headed for his home's rear door that opened out onto a magnificent backyard that was complete with its own pond and a garden that boasted an array of flowers from four different worlds. It was in this garden that he found her.

As Duren called her name one final time Leshka suddenly jumped. Busy tending to the exotic flowers around her she was unaware that anything had changed within the confines of the house or just outside them. To hear her name so suddenly being called out caused her to be ripped from the serene world she had slipped into while tending the garden back to the bigger reality which surrounded her. Not knowing to whom the voice belonged she guardedly clutched her steel spade and slowly rose to face whoever had called her name. When her eyes laid upon Duren she loosened her grip so much that she nearly dropped the garden tool. "Duren!" she called out to the approaching man. Once he stopped his movement she placed her free arm around him and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"It's good to see you again Leshka," Duren said as he placed an arm around her and squeezed back. A warm and calming sense came over him as Leshka embraced him and he felt himself smile. This woman was the only person that he could even come close to knowing as family. As a result he couldn't help but to feel a sort of affection towards her.

"What in Cardassia's name are you doing home?" she asked as she pulled herself away and gave him a look over.

"Those bureaucrats on the Detapa Council finally decided that their loyal slave Gul Duren was due for a respite," he replied, which then gave way to a moment of laughter between them. As the moment passed Duren suddenly remembered about Dukat and Ziyal, who were probably still waiting for him in the main room. "Come Leshka," he said as he started to gesture her back towards the house. "I have guests that I would like you to meet."

"Guests?" she asked somewhat startled. "Oh Duren don't tell me you brought people home with you. The house is a wreck and look at me! My hands are all covered in dirt and my clothes are none better."

"Leshka," Duren said with a tone that he hoped would calm her down. "The house is spotless, I haven't seen it look this beautiful since mother was around. And as far as you, they will understand. Trust me, you're going to like them." Leshka looked back at Duren full of skepticism, but she remained silent as they finished their walk through the house. When they finally made it to the main room Duren found his friends in very nearly the same spot he left them. "Leshka, I would like you to meet my good friend Dukat and his daughter Ziyal," he introduced. "And this is my housekeeper and nagging mother figure for thirty years Leshka."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Dukat said with his warmest smile as he stepped forward and took Leshka's hand in his for a moment's holding.

"Ah the glorious Dukat," Leshka greeted almost with indifference. She had seen a great many people in her time and as a result she was hardly ever impressed. To her everyone was on equal ground. This manner she held firmly onto until she took a step beyond Dukat and looked at Ziyal. "You are such a little thing!" she remarked, instantly noticing how slim and frail the girl looked. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Well we just came down from the orbital docks and..." Duren tried to explain before Leshka abruptly cut him off.

"Excuses excuses, that seems to be all you men ever do. Here," Leshka said as she put an arm around Ziyal and gestured her towards the stairs, "just come with me and I'll show you to the guest bathroom. After a long shuttle trip I'm sure you're just dying for a nice hot shower. Once you get cleaned up I'll cook you a meal that is sure to put some meat on these bones."

Ziyal looked over her shoulder at the two men looking just a bit uneasy. "Leshka that won't be neces..." Duren once again tried to say and was once again cut off.

"Oh you hush up. I'll take care of this girl while you men do whatever it is you do." she briskly said before her and Ziyal disappeared up the stairs.

"She's a spitfire isn't she?" Dukat remarked as he looked at the stairs where the two women had ascended.

"Well she definitely has an energy to her." Duren conceded. "Leshka just seems to feel it's her role to mother everyone." Agreeing with him on this point Dukat simply gave a slight nod as he turned back around to face his host. There was a brief pause as the two looked around the room and admired it before Duren said, "You must be thirsty Dukat. Care for a drink?"

"I am a little dry," Dukat commented as he rubbed his throat. "You wouldn't happen to have any Kanar would you?"

"Why would I want to keep anything else?" Duren asked jokingly and Dukat gave a slight laugh in response. Walking over to a bar set just into the far wall Duren reached underneath a wooden counter and retrieved two crystal glasses and a bottle full of the greenish liquid of choice. Carefully he removed the bottle's top and inhaled the drink's intoxicating aroma before filling both of the glasses. Once he returned the bottle Duren took a glass in each hand and walked back to his friend before handing him one.

Taking the drink Dukat took a whiff of his own and swirled the drink for a moment in his glass before taking a sip. "Ah, now that's good Kanar," he commented.

"Only the best for my guests," Duren said with a smirk.

With drinks in hand both men proceeded to find themselves a place to rest on the lavish furniture which adorned the main room. Sipping down their Kanar they let their bodies rest from the long walk they had endured in getting here from the spaceport and from all the strain they had been put through in the past few months. For Dukat he had not rested since him and Ziyal had been hidden away on the ruined world of Andor some five months ago. It had been even longer for Duren. Now that they were able to neither man saw a reason to deny themselves of such rest and they both gave a contented sigh as they let their bodies melt into the soft fabric that surrounded them.

When Leshka returned from guiding Ziyal to the guest bathroom she looked at the two men as they lounged and muttered something under her breath as she shook her head. "I'll be in the kitchen making some of my famous Gromlit Stew," she said to no one in particular as she walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Gromlit Stew," Dukat half muttered to himself. "It has been awhile since I was treated to such a dish."

"You haven't had a proper taste of the stuff until you've had some of Leshka's," Duren commented.

The comment stayed in the air as both men became lost in their own thoughts. It was a silence that was strangely broken by Dukat. "Thank you Duren," he said as he looked at the younger man. When confusion was shown across Duren's face at the statement Dukat wetted his lips as he decided to explain himself. "I of course mean for your hospitality in letting me and Ziyal stay here." He drew his arms apart as if to note how impressive Duren's home was and how grateful he truly was. Something in his eyes though hinted that there was more to his thanks and that hint was confirmed as he added, "And for helping my daughter and me to escape from that miserable life we had been forced into. I can't imagine what would have become of us were it not for you and that Ferengi friend of yours."

Though Duren was grateful for such praise coming from such a man his words let show another part of his feelings on the situation. "My motives for everything weren't exactly selfless," he almost shamefully said as he took a drink of his Kanar.

"That may be true, but nonetheless your actions saved both of us. This is something I will always remember and always be grateful for."

Feeling slightly guilty and completely unworthy of such a man's praise Duren chose to ask Dukat about one of his more famous combat strategies that he had used during the Terran War. This lead to lengthy boasting and words that one was skeptical to fully believe in. For close to half an hour the two military minds were embroiled in this heated fashion of story telling that was only ended by the ring of the doorbell.

Knowing that Leshka was surely now fully committed to her stew Duren slowly rose up from where he was sitting. Asking for a moment's pause in their discussion Duren offered Dukat the chance to refill his quickly emptying glass as he made his way to the large wooden doors that made up the entrance to his home. As he did so he couldn't help but to get a sense of deja vu. Unlike the last time this happened to him though the person on the door's other side was not an enemy, but a close friend.

Opening the door slowly and cautiously Duren peered out the first chance he was able to. The person he saw brought shock to him for a moment, followed by a strong sense of camaraderie. "Bendrick!" he exclaimed as he took the man's hand in his and gave it a firm shake. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you finally got back from the warfront so I decided to drop by," his friend said in earnest, though Duren could tell there was something more to what was going on.

"Come, come in," Duren invited. "Have some Kanar and tell me what has been going on in your life."

"There is nothing I would enjoy better right now then to accept your offer Duren, but unfortunately this isn't a social call. I'm here on some important business."

"Won't you still come in and sit down?" Duren asked as intrigue about Bendrick's visit ran rampant in his mind.

"Only for a moment," Bendrick finally agreed, "before _we _have to leave."

As he followed his friend into the main room his mind raced through all the possible causes for his visit. There was nothing Duren could think of that might cause his friend to behave in such a way. Behavior aside his mind pondered what he meant when he implied that he would not be leaving alone. These questions Duren hoped would be quickly answered as they made their way into the room and back into Dukat's presence.

"Dukat, I would like to introduce you too my good friend Bendrick," Duren said as the two men approached the Cardassian hero.

"Greetings," Dukat said as he lifted his freshly refilled glass of Kanar.

At seeing Dukat Bendrick gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to his friend. "Duren, I have come here to tell you something and to bring you before the Detapa Council." There was such a finality about Bendrick's statement that it shocked Duren. Even Dukat was caught unawares as the Detapa Council was mentioned and the seriousness of the situation truly hit them.

"What is this about?" Duren blurted out almost as a demand of whatever knowledge his friend possessed.

"Actually," Bendrick said with a pause before simply saying, "it's about him." he finished as he gave a nod with his head towards Dukat.

"What do you mean it's about me?" Dukat asked taking a step towards Bendrick and letting his tone get a touch more hostile.

Raising a hand in an effort to calm his guest Duren looked at his friend in such a manner that Bendrick didn't need to hear his friend's words to know exactly what he was thinking.

"I have been sent here, by the Detapa Council, to bring you before them for questioning." he stated matter-of-factly. "Both of you as a matter of fact."

"But I though you said this was about me?" Dukat asked, confused by Bendrick's statement that the matter involved Duren as well.

"It is about you Dukat. However, because of Duren's actions recently, the matter involves him as well."

Growing annoyed at his friend for his blatant avoidance of what the matter truly was about and for the arrogant air of superiority that he held Duren felt his patience quickly thinning. Were Bendrick anyone other than a close friend then Duren would have surely put this man in his place and out the door. But this was not any other man, this was a dear friend of his, and someone that had been so for many years. With this in mind he held back his fist and simply put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Bendrick, my friend, please just tell us why you are here." Duren pleaded.

Looking into his friend's eyes and the genuine distress he could sense being held just behind them Bendrick knew that this sort of gamesplaying he was up to wasn't benefiting anyone or the situation on the whole. Knowing this he decided to drop all of it and come straight out with the reason as to why he had come. He inhaled a big breath of the air that surrounded him before he started.

"A while back I was hired by the Detapa Council as someone to help them keep track of people and events that were going on in the Cardassian Empire. I became an assistant if you will. Anyways, one of the people I was asked to keep track of was you Dukat. You have many enemies in the government, enemies that would kill you if they thought they could get away with it. Instead those enemies conspired you into exile, and thus grew comfortable with your departure."

In laying out these clear facts Bendrick had unknowingly revealed what lay just beyond them. Dukat knew he had enemies, Enabrain Tain being the most notable, and by the reactions he had received at the Narendra Conference he had begun to wonder if anyone back home still supported him. The crowd's reaction earlier had put his mind at ease about how he was viewed, but Bendrick's words threatened to undo all the good that crowd's reaction had done.

"So, because he's back here on Cardassia Prime, they want to bring him in and try to find a new reason for him to leave." Duren stated as he tried to piece together everything his friend had told him.

"More or less," Bendrick said with a nod, confirming his friend's thoughts.

As the three men stood there and absorbed the situation Dukat still didn't see how all of this tied in with Duren. "If that's the case," he began in a quiet tone that picked up volume as he took another step toward Bendrick, "then why do they need to speak with Duren? What would they need to summon him for if all they are doing is fishing for a new reason to force me into exile?"

When the question was asked by Dukat it appeared also in Duren's mind and suddenly he was curious about why the Detapa Council would want to see him. To Bendrick the question's answer was easy, and he decided to present it as such.

"The Council wants to speak with you, Duren, because of all your recent dealings with Dukat. Once it was revealed that you had dealings with someone labeled as a traitor of the state then you became just as guilty as him."

"But that isn't true," Duren protested.

"In their eyes it is the truth, my friend. And in the end their eyes are the ones that matter."

Hearing this Duren didn't know whether it was the words his friend said or the tone that came with them that surprised him more. He knew that the Detapa Council viewed the crime of treason as a very serious issue, and paranoia had caused a stream of rash accusations to come from them, but never did he imagine that this would happen. Dukat was a hero of the Cardassian people and he was one of their top military commanders, and now they were both to be labeled as traitors of the state? No, this couldn't be. Duren wouldn't let it be, no matter what it cost.

Like Duren, Dukat was upset at Bendrick's words. He couldn't believe that after all this time the government of his beloved world could still act in such a petty way. Turning his view to see Duren's reaction he knew that they couldn't allow this judgment to be passed unchallenged. "Are we to be brought in immediately?" he asked of Bendrick as Duren looked at him and they both prepared for the answer.

"Yes. My orders were to come and stay here until it was convenient for the both of you and then to return to the council hall." Bendrick replied simply.

In Duren's mind he thought about how generous the Detapa Council was being by throwing a word like convenient into their order, obviously though it was just there to save face. Instead of voicing this thought though he simply said, "We're ready now," in a stern tone as he briefly glanced at Dukat, making sure he too was ready, before turning his full attention towards his friend.

Bendrick stood there and looked over Duren's face in an attempt to try and get a reading of what his friend was really thinking. "Very well," he said as he saw just how serious Duren viewed the situation.

"Leshka," Duren called out over his shoulder back in the direction of the kitchen. When she didn't answer him he called out her name a second time, but only got more silence from the older woman. "Dukat and I won't be having your stew. We have something to go do."

This statement caught the woman's attention as suddenly she appeared from the hallway that connected the main room to the kitchen. "What do you mean you have something to do?" she said as she came in with a towel and was drying her hands. "Hello Bendrick," Leshka quickly greeted as she stepped forward and took notice of the new visitor. "Duren, you're finally back home and my Gromlit Stew is one of your favorite meals," she said as she turned to look Duren straight in the face. "What possibly could you two have to rush out to do to miss my stew?"

"It's something we'd rather not mention right now," Dukat said to Leshka in an attempt to help his friend in the face of this woman, "but it is very important that we go now."

"Important?" Leshka asked as anger began to seep into the creases of her face. "You men don't know a thing about important! You are all the same, forcing us women into the kitchen and forcing a mop into our hands, but are you ever grateful?"

"Leshka, it's ok..." Duren said in a soothing tone as he tried to calm his housekeeper down.

In response Leshka went off on some other complaint about men and their treatment of life and the two men of Duren and Dukat simply stood their and took the abuse as they vainly tried to calm her down. This pattern of argument continued between the three until a new voice broke through their shouting.

"What's going on?" Ziyal said in a small voice that made her seem very fragile and vulnerable like that of a young girl. As she stood there at the top of the stairs everyone turned to look at her. In return she looked back with worry shown across her face.

"Duren and I have something very important we have to go and do, sweetie." Dukat affectionately replied.

When Dukat's words, and the fact of his immediate departure, sank into Ziyal's mind her worry grew ten fold and her whole body seized with fear. She didn't know what to do, only that she didn't want her father to leave her here alone. Suddenly she found herself bounding down the stairs towards him and before she could have a rational thought her arms were wrapped about her father and she was quietly asking him to stay in between a few tear drops.

Though Ziyal was a young woman in this instant she appeared to be no more than eight or so years old. Instantly it became apparent just how much her father had come to mean to her and how after all they had been through she feared being too far from him. Were it another time, another moment, then perhaps the scene of Ziyal clutching onto her father as he stroked her still wet hair would be seen as a touching respite in the dark horrors of a life at war. With their need to leave and face their accusers though it sadly became just another roadblock.

"It's ok," Dukat reassured her. "We won't be gone for long. In the meantime why don't you stay here with Leshka? She's made some Gromlit Stew which I hear is the best on all of Cardassia."

Looking up into her father's eyes Ziyal swallowed hard and tried to force back her feelings. She knew that such behavior was unbecoming of a young Cardassian woman, but at the mention of his departure she had just become so terrified at being left alone. These feelings weren't ones that she wanted to be having, but she couldn't help it. In the three years that they had lived in exile Dukat, this father that she didn't realize existed until she was used against him, had been her vigilant protector against all those that had wished to harm her. She knew that without him on Tesslak Prime then she would have been dead within a week; or worse. Tragedy had formed the strongest of bonds between these two, and she found herself fearful of putting strain on that bond on the chance it would snap and thusly let all the demons come back into her life. When her eyes met his in this instance though she could feel a part of his strength being transferred into her through his gaze. With that strength she found herself slowly releasing him and falling back into a net of safety that she could feel being thrown around her by Leshka.

As Ziyal slowly left the comfort of her father's arms Leshka was immediately there to scoop the girl up and reassure her that she would be fine. Watching as the two women walked off towards the kitchen Dukat felt how much pain was caused in Ziyal and he wished that he could hide her away and protect her from such things. He knew that in leaving her now and facing the Detapa Council that he would ultimately be a step closer to that goal, but in the here and now it was too hard to trust in such possibilities.

"All right," Duren said to the two men before him as the women disappeared behind him. "Let's get this over with." Both Dukat and Bendrick gave a quick nod of agreement before the three of them turned and headed out the door.

The trip to the council hall was a quiet one as none of them knew what should be added to their thoughts. Being in the heart of the capital made the travel time long, time though that was shortened by the use of Bendrick's hover transport. How well off Bendrick must be to afford such a sleek machine was what ran through Duren's mind. It wasn't until later when he found out the transport was a gift from the Detapa Council in exchange for Bendrick's service that Duren truly began to see what had become of his friend. Even in this moment, though unaware of everything, he began to harbor some mistrust for his long time friend. His feelings weren't those of hatred, but more feelings of confusion. He just couldn't understand what had happed to convince Bendrick not only to go and work for the Detapa Council but begin to accept their dogma as his own. Despite the quickened journey on the hover transport it still seemed to take forever to reach the council hall and that length of time was made worse as Duren could do nothing but silently wonder about his friend and the people he was about to face down.

When they finally arrived at the hall reserved for the Detapa Council meetings Duren found an odd relief come over him. Being brought before superiors to fight a claim that he was a traitor of the state was something he thought would bring more and more dread as the moment drew nearer and nearer. The very opposite happened though as he felt relief that he would finally be able to face his accusers. In his service in the military there had been many decisions come by way of them and aside for the small dealings he had with Natima Lang at the Narendra Conference then he hadn't ever been able to question those decisions. Of course, that was how it was supposed to be. Having the council out of reach of the military commanders they ordered to death made those orders much easier to give and the population much easier to control, or that was the principle. In Duren's mind this was just a smokescreen for the cowards to hide behind as they didn't want anyone to have the chance to question their infallibility.

With Bendrick leading them Dukat and Duren looked at each other in the last pause before they faced their accusers. Both of them had heard the tales of what happened before the council, and only through Dukat's brief working relationship with Natima did they have any clue what to expect when they faced the council. Their minds ran through all sorts of possibilities about what might happen as they moved through the building. Finally they were forced to silence their minds and those possibilities as they reached the huge double doors that served as entrance to the council chambers.

Being in the lead Bendrick reached for the door handles and gripped one tightly in each hand. Before opening them he paused for a moment as if in thought before turning to look at his friend. "I'm sorry, Duren, that this has to happen," Bendrick said as both his tone and expression flashed a sign that Duren's long time friend was still in there somewhere. "And that I am the one that had to bring you in," he added as he pulled open the doors and the three men made their way inside.

Beyond the large double doors laid a room that was breathtaking. The subtle curves of the room's architecture, accentuated by bright and inspiring murals, made it truly a sight. It was accomplishments like this that made one proud of their Cardassian heritage and strive in an attempt for their lives to create something that could compare to these works, if even in just a fraction. What a saddening irony that such beauty bore witness to the evil and ugly commands sent forth by the Detapa Council. Duren could do nothing but slowly shake his head in pity for the unresting spirits that had divined such beauty, only to have become so dreary in their creator's absence. This thought he held onto as a large table appeared before him where seven rather self important people sat.

"Greetings Detapa Council," Bendrick said in a genial tone. "As you asked, I have brought forth Dukat and Duren, labeled as traitors of the state."

"We are appreciative of this," Natima said returning Bendrick's tone with an underlying layer of falsehood to it before waving him off. In response to this wave he clicked his boots together before turning and walking off to the side of the room and gaining a rather statuesque pose upon arrival.

"Dukat, Duren, welcome to the hall of the Detapa Council." Natima addressed.

As Duren looked back at her a sick feeling of revulsion came to him. He and Dukat had been ordered here with the worst label imaginable in Cardassian society hung about their neck and she had the audacity to act as if this were some sort of warm hearted gathering? To Duren this was nothing short of a blatant insult, and the look on his face expressed his feelings.

"What is it you want from me this time, Natima?" Dukat shot at the woman who was seated in the middle of the gathered council members.

With Dukat's words Natima herself became insulted. "Right to the point is it then?" she asked, not giving any effort to hide hostility from her voice. When neither man before her spoke she took that as a sign of agreement and proceeded to sentence them. "Dukat, your crime and judgment is three years standing. You were deemed a traitor and exiled from this world. Duren, your crime is the same, on the grounds of aiding a known traitor of the state."

At the accusation rage was fueled deep within Duren's being. Looking at the mocking faces of those that sat opposite of him, some of whom were people he knew and had only moments ago respected, he suddenly felt the need to lunge at them. Taking a step forward he was about to strike down Natima's accusations, but an arm across his chest from Dukat forced him to back down and settle with simply brewing on his thoughts for a bit longer.

As Duren stepped back and calmed down Dukat stepped forward. He knew these people well, having worked with each of them for several years before being ousted from his seat of power, and as he recalled those days he knew that the possibility that he would face them from the other end of their dealings had been unimaginable. In his relationship with them he had always been a stern supporter, throwing his backing behind them with his trust that they paid so much detail to each situation that they could hardly ever be wrong. With his judgment and subsequent expulsion from Cardassia by them that faith and support had quickly crumbled away and he was able to see them as they truly were: arrogant and unintelligent people who saw themselves as divine rulers. In the end he figured they didn't care about anything other than the fact that their law was obeyed without question.

Not a word was spoken by Dukat as he stepped towards the table where Natima and the other council members sat. Each step he took resonated on the obsidian flooring and seemed to echo throughout the entire room. Not a soul present could tell what was on his mind as no noticeable expression could be found on his face. He waited until he was nearly pressing against the table before he opened his mouth and spoke a single word. "Why?"

Dukat's question with a single word sent a wave of confusion through the council members and they each turned to look at each other in the hope that one of them knew what he meant, save for Natima. She ignored any thoughts about what his question might mean as she stared ahead into Dukat's eyes and into his soul. A pause ensued as Natima waited for the other members to put their confusion to rest. Once they did she looked at Dukat and asked a question of her own. "And what, pray tell, are you asking about?" she asked in a tone thick with arrogance in an attempt to cover her own confusion about Dukat.

If Natima's tone was meant to keep hold of her superiority in this matter then to Dukat it had failed her. He knew that she had no clue about what ran through his mind, and he nearly smiled at it. This knowledge gave him a small edge over the woman, an edge he wished to keep onto for as long as possible. Keeping onto it though would do nothing to help his case, and so reluctantly he furthered his question. "Why am I deemed a traitor of the state?" he asked simply.

When this new question hit her Natima once more felt insulted. Who did Dukat think he was speaking to? She was the leader of the Detapa Council and government for their entire people, and he dared to address her as such? As her mind combed over the question again a wave of fury washed over her and had they been alone she would have surely slapped Dukat. They were not alone though, and she knew that to blatantly lose her temper in front of the other council members would do nothing but belittle her position. "Is it not obvious to you, after so long Dukat, as to why you were sent into exile from this world?" Her question seemed to hold the same weight of Dukat's and with it she hoped to turn the tables against him.

This question made the urge to grin even harder for Dukat to suppress. His question of why had made her feel stupid, and unable to think of a snappy rebuttal she had slipped into asking a question that made her appear as ignorant as she must have felt. Knowing of Natima as a politician Dukat knew that she didn't really have a firm grasp on the situation, and would be unable to clearly answer this matter were he to press further. Aware of this fact he did just that. "Well, unless I'm mistaken, I was deemed a traitor because I bore an illegitimate daughter with a Bajoran servant. Am I mistaken?" he asked with Cardassian arrogance that he hoped would be able to tear down Natima's arrogance.

"A daughter, might I remind you, that was accused of killing the Bajoran leader." Natima said smugly as she leaned back in her chair believing she had just struck a blow to whatever scheme Dukat was plotting.

Ah yes, the incident with Kai Winn. Dukat expected for her to bring out that accusation in an effort to defeat his question. Normally whatever action that Ziyal had committed would have been meaningless in passing judgment upon her father. This situation was different though. He knew that when it was decided that Ziyal had surely been Winn's killer that a Cardassian connection had to be present and an attempt to belittle the Bajoran position within the Alliance was surely a plot for them to gain more power. Only by bringing out a scapegoat to be paraded and exiled could they have been able to safeguard their own possible expulsion from the confines of Alliance safety. Who better for them to throw at the wolves then the hero of the Cardassian people? With a sigh Dukat simply found himself both appreciating and hating the subtle rules of politics.

Before Dukat could respond to Natima's statement about his daughter Duren decided that he could sit back and play witness to their debating no longer. Taking a step towards Natima he shot his own arrogant laced comment into the fires that had taken flame from the words of her and Dukat. "Was Ziyal not absolved of this crime after the Narendra Conference, Natima?" he shot coldly at the Detapa leader.

For a moment Natima thought that she might have lost ground and this caused her to panic, though she never showed it. Thinking back to the conference from several months ago she tried to remember exactly what she had said. As she remembered a smile almost made its way upon her lips as she knew Duren was mistaken. "No she was not," Natima coolly said, though something of wickedness also made itself present in the tone.

"Did you yourself not vote to remove Seven from power?" Duren asked the obvious.

"Yes, I did." With this admission Duren felt that he had trapped Natima into a corner and prepared to deal a final blow on the matter. Instead though Natima had a plan of her own. "But," she said in such a way as to emphasize the word's importance, "not because of Ziyal or Kai Winn's murder. I had my own reasons for choosing to act against Overseer Seven."

So full of assurance that he would be able to tear down Natima's ruling with one more sentence Duren was absolutely shocked by her adding comment. She was right of course in that her deciding speech at the conference made no mention of vindication on the part of Ziyal. How could he have missed this fact? It seemed now, that on a technicality, Natima would win. Duren's heart sank at this realization.

While Natima's final comment may have left Duren feeling defeated it left Dukat unscathed. He saw where Duren had intended to go with the mention of the Narendra Conference and just because Natima had blocked one plan of action on that path didn't mean she had blocked them all. Wetting his lips he looked across at Natima and grew eager of the chance to wipe the smug grin from her face. "But, Natima, are you forgetting something? Ziyal's accusers, the Bajorans, absolved her and chose to blame Seven for Kai Winn's murder. As her accusers they were the ones with all the power in the matter, so by their testament my daughter stands absolved." These statements held such a weight behind them that Natima looked visibly shaken as they washed over her. Dukat enjoyed every moment. "And if my daughter is no longer believed to be a murderer, then what could be the reason that either of us would be exiled?"

Feeling her back somehow once again pressed into a corner Natima frantically searched through her mind in an attempt to salvage what little position she had left in this argument. Believing she had something she voiced it in the hope it would discredit the man before her back into submission. "The accusations against your daughter were just the final straw, Dukat. Your military career is littered with questionable acts that have compounded over the years. Let me remind you of your mission in the Sanskri system that cost the lives of five-hundred civilians! Tell me then, Dukat, is someone capable of such deeds worthy to wear the uniform of a Cardassian officer?" Shooting these words as if they were daggers she rose from her chair and glared at Dukat as she rested her hands on the smooth glass table.

"I was absolved of what happened in the Sanskri system before a military tribunal and you know it! Those lives were ones that were impossible to save, and only because of your direct order did I lose twenty three fine officers in an attempt to save them nonetheless. If anyone should be exiled over that it is you!" Dukat fiercely shot back.

Standing there and watching things come to a head Duren saw an opening that he thought might just be enough to settle things once and for all. For over a year now a question had dug its way deep down into his mind and served as an itch that he had yearned to scratch. It was something that puzzled him even more after the Narendra Conference, and now with the chance before him to finally give it a scratch he felt an obligation to do so. "Natima," he started in a stern tone so as to get her attention, "there has been something on my mind for quite sometime now. That something is this; if you had such negative ideals and hating beliefs of Dukat then why did you order me to retrieve him from exile? Why did you send me to meet in the Venru sector and pick up what you referred to as 'cargo important to the future of Cardassia' which was this man and his daughter, if you did not wish to be bothered by him again?"

"What?" Natima plainly asked as her rage began to subside and be replaced by confusion.

"Just over a year ago my ship, the Alvex, was ordered to the Venru sector to retrieve some mysterious cargo. That cargo was Dukat and Ziyal, and the order came coded directly from your office Natima."

"I....have no idea what you are talking about," she quietly said as she fell back into her chair with something that seemed half confusion and half worry on her face.

Placing his hands on the table and leaning forward Duren was about to call Natima out on this fact, believing her to be lying in a last effort to cover up what was really going on. When his eyes met hers though that belief changed. Her look seemed to reflect genuine confusion, and though Duren thought that too was part of her act, her look remained unchanged until Duren couldn't help but to believe it. Sweeping his gaze at the other members of the Detapa Council he saw that each of them wore the same look as Natima and his assurance once again crumbled away and confusion once more took paramount.

"If you didn't order the Alvex to the Venru sector..." Duren stated the obvious question that now played in the minds of everyone present. Though he stood there with confusion something else creeped its way into his mind. It started as a subtle urging, but quickly became something much more. For a reason he would never fully understand his gaze was lifted from Natima and was sent across the room to the shadowed corner where his friend Bendrick still stood. Looking upon Bendrick's face something came over Duren. He couldn't explain why, but the moment he took in his friend's expression then his question about the order became answered.

Though he himself now knew this answer, no one on the council had a clue. Quickly in his mind Duren spun a way that this question and the pause in the arguing could be used for the benefit of all. Sorting out a few last words in his mind he began a very careful game with those words, hoping that none of them would end up being the downfall of Bendrick or himself.

"The answer, my fellow Cardassians, must lay in the fact that a saboteur is among us." The word saboteur, though kin to traitor, sent a ripple of shock through the Detapa Council. They all silently drew in a deep breath as they sat in wait for Duren's next words. "This, my fellow Cardassians, should be our focus. Our people are currently engaged in a violent and brutal war against a tangible enemy, the Romulans. When faced with this enemy do we really need to fabricate enemies amongst our own people? Natima, do you recall the Regent's final words at the Narendra Conference? In those words he spoke of a united front against our tangible Romulan foe, and how we should not allow mistrust of each other to divide us and bring us down to fighting amongst ourselves. Though his words were meant for a much grander scale, and on the principle that the mistrust lay between the species' division built within the Alliance hierarchy, could they not be applied here? Could they not be used as a plea to end the mistrust of our own people, and as a plea to begin a truly united Cardassian front that will stand firm against all those who dare tarnish our name? Look now at the hall we stand in. Look at all its glory that was divined and built by Cardassian hearts, Cardassian minds, and Cardassian souls. Am I the only one that feels the privilege of my heritage when I look upon what my forefathers have done? If the answer to that question is no then I have but one final question to ask. Must we stand here and senselessly bicker amongst ourselves? For surely if we do, we threaten to bring this whole glorious world crashing down upon us until the glorious legacy of the Cardassian people becomes nothing but a dim memory in the minds of those that we leave behind."

When Duren's words ended and he stood there proud and resolute Dukat could hardly think of a word to say that would befit such a noble man and such a noble speech. In that instant he felt proud to be Duren's friend and truly moved by his beliefs of what the Cardassian people should, and could, be. Giving way to a quick sigh he turned to the council leader, knowing what had to be done. "He's right Natima. We cannot allow our people to be subject to such corruption any longer. For their sakes we must end it and stand firm side by side to protect our days and hold back the fierce nights. Will you help me do this Natima? Will you help me keep our people safe and give them the glorious society they full well deserve?" With these questions Dukat moved his hand toward Natima in an ofference of peace.

Staring at Dukat's hand Natima herself found it hard to come up with just the right words for the moment. Her gaze moved to Duren and his words hit her all over again. Those words were right. Those words were just. And those words were ones that she would have said herself long ago before the power of her position had worked its magic. Turning and taking the face of each council member into her gaze for a moment she thought over the situation once more as fully as a few seconds can allow. Suddenly she found herself taking Dukat's hand in hers and giving it a firm shake. She knew that overcoming her stigmas about this man and many others would be a long and trying journey, but for the sake of her people she knew she must try. From that handshake, borne out of mistrust, lies, and negative gamesplaying came the foundation for a new glorious and more united government, and thusly a better Cardassia.


	18. Of Tales and Heroes

_Chapter Eighteen: Of Tales and Heroes_

Mission  
With the Alliance pushing the Romulan front even further back the Romulans scramble together a cloaked fleet in an isolated system in the hopes of using it to end the Alliance onslaught. Breen intelligence has picked this fleet up however and Zelbreghn is placed back in command by a well respected general with a daring plan.  
Mission Date:  
245th day in the 2369th of Molar

As he stood there in the turbolift Zelbreghn wondered what his latest summons was for. It probably was nothing more than yet another 'debriefing' session with one of the higher ups. At this thought the Breen soldier could do nothing but give a sigh of disapproval. Hadn't command realized that he had told them everything he could about his time in the Romulan prison camps? Didn't they realize that, as a loyal soldier and a man who hated the Romulans, he was eager to relate his experiences to them in the hope that something useful could be gleaned and used against his former captors? Despite giving a full and painstakingly detailed account of his time in Romulan custody his superiors had brought him in time and time again and asked the same list of questions over and over. This had been the pattern his life had taken ever since he had returned home from the Narendra Conference. For a moment he likened their constant questioning of him to that he faced from the Romulans, a thought he instantly regretted. These were his people after all, and thusly deserved his devotion.

Slowly, the lift came to a stop. Glancing over to a readout set into the wall he saw that he had arrived at his destination. After a moment the doors slid open and revealed to him a very busy scene. In every direction he could see his fellow soldiers marching in this and that direction. Shrugging it off as simple drill he stepped off of the lift and was about to push everything aside when he noticed something odd about the soldiers. Each one of them was fully dressed in their fatigues; helmets worn and all. Noticing this he reminded himself on how he too was wearing his helmet, but that was due to the fact that he didn't want to be caught casually carrying it around. Could this also explain the reason why everyone else was helmeted? No, that didn't quite fit what he saw. On station very few soldiers chose to wear their helmets. Unless...the station was about to come under attack! The thought sent both shock and excitement through Zelbreghn's body. He had longed to rejoin the fight against the Romulans for several months now. Being so deep in Breen space though how could the Romulans launch an attack on them? Instantly his trained solider mentality kicked in and decided that it was best to push all speculation aside and simply go forward on his orders.

Weaving his way through the crowd he began to read the name plates beside each office that he passed. Being on the second deck of the station meant that each of the sector's top brass had their own little private space here. This deck Zelbreghn had come to know very well since his posting here nearly three months ago. It had been on this deck that most of his time and words had been spent answering the barrage of questions thrust upon him. Despite all of his time spent here the area's uniform design led him to occasionally getting lost. The bustle and relentless sea of bodies didn't help him to lose his disconcerting feeling either. With his fellow soldiers all around him it took several more minutes to find his destination than should have. Pausing for a moment he read over the name plate one last time to make sure he was indeed at the right office. After confirming that General Rakln's name was on it he reached over and tapped the small panel in front of him.

"Yes?" came the general's rough voice through the panel's comms unit.

"It's Commander Zelbreghn, sir. I was ordered to report here."

"Of course. Come right in."

Zelbreghn stood still for a moment, not quite sure how to react to the cordial tone he heard underlying the general's words. The officers he had dealt with so far had always been short sided and noticeably standoffish. This radical difference that he sensed left him to wonder how to present himself in this situation. Giving only a brief second to mull it over he stepped forward so that the doors automatically slid open and then behind him upon entering the room.

The first thing Zelbreghn did upon entering the general's office was to sweep his gaze and take in every facet the room offered. This seemed to be his standard procedure whenever he entered a new area; a quality that he believed made him a better commander. Instantly Zelbreghn could tell that this general was a man of culture as several articles had been placed around the room. His gaze fell upon a painting of the Nercht'k Falls from their homeworld and he found himself unable to pull away from it until the general spoke.

"Ah, Commander Zelbreghn," Rakln said as he looked up from some report that he had been mulling over only moments before. "I'm glad that you could take the time to come up here and talk with me. If you would please," he added as he gestured to a chair that sat directly opposite him.

Breaking away from the magnificent painting that had entranced him, Zelbreghn turned his gaze to look upon the general and the chair that was offered him. Promptly he took the hint and maneuvered his way to the chair and sat down. Looking across the desk he saw that Rakln was also wearing the standard issue uniform, only his had been adorned with several glittering medals. This led Zelbreghn's mind to further speculation, which again was quickly pushed aside.

Leaning back in his chair Rakln sized up the man before him. While he could only guess at the expression the soldier hid under his helmet, he could tell by his posture exactly what was on his mind. The confusion he could feel come from Zelbreghn would be put to ease soon enough, but first he felt the need to get to know this well spoken of officer. "Would you like something to drink?" Rakln casually offered as he gestured towards a nearby replicator.

"No thank you, sir." Zelbreghn replied as he shifted in his chair. Already he could tell that the general before him was far different from the others he had been forced to deal with recently. This general gave off a more calming air and he couldn't help but to relax in his presence. Rakln, Zelbreghn felt, must surely be of the dying breed of officers that could still share the mentality held by the troops they commanded.

"Ah, that's probably for the best," Rakln said at Zelbreghn's polite refusal. "Best not to let drinking get in the way of our business here, right?" While Zelbreghn chose not to answer the question Rakln could tell the man was simply anxious about pushing aside all of this cordiality and get straight to why he was called here. "I have been looking over your record," he casually said as he glanced back down to the file that laid on his desk.

"Oh?" was Zelbreghn's only reply as he tried to discern from the general's tone whether this was a good or bad thing.

"If I may be so blunt, were we to have more of our soldiers with a record like this then we would have already won this horrible war against the Romulans." Rakln said as his gaze returned back to Zelbreghn.

Zelbreghn was taken back by such praise coming from this highly decorated war general and he suddenly felt glad that he had his helmet on and that Rakln was unable to see his face. "It's nothing special." he modestly said.

"Nonsense," the general firmly replied. While he was unable to see the commander's face he could once again sense what it surely must be displaying. Rakln normally saw such modesty in a soldier as a failing, but somehow it seemed to fit Zelbreghn. "Could a record that boasts victory in twenty three different campaigns be labeled as nothing special? One that includes the defense of Minas Korva and the costly Norcon Campaign which nearly eight thousand soldiers were lost and was just barely won? To you this record is nothing special?"

"I only did what I thought any Breen would do in those situations; fight for the protection of my home and my people."

This response caused Rakln to lean back in his chair impressed. Not only was Zelbreghn's reply one that he favored, but his casual tone about it was something that left the stalwart general impressed. In the throes of war so many fought and died for their own selfish and petty reasons. Maybe it was in the hope that their name would be remembered and thusly part of them live on forever. Maybe it was in the hope that they or someone close to them would gain some large compensation for their 'heroic' acts. For a soldier to fiercely march into battle with only concern for the safety of their defenseless brethren was a sign of a noble warrior with an attitude that Rakln found to be refreshing.

As Zelbreghn awaited the next question he could read by the general's posture that his answer had impressed upon the man to whom he felt the term war hero belonged. He had given the answer without thought and had said only what he felt a soldier should do in times of war. Sadly though he knew that this wasn't always the case, and the fact that this mentality had become so rare that any who had it would be labeled as noble caused him to further shake his head in disgust.

"Not everyone shares that view, commander." Rakln said as his thoughts became words and he tried to convey how unique Zelbreghn's mindset was.

"No they don't," Zelbreghn quietly muttered. "Our allies for instance..." he started to add, but suddenly decided against it.

"They do not all fight with that selfless mentality that we Breen seem to naturally possess," the general added with a slight nod of his head as he validated Zelbreghn's thought. "Why do you think that is?"

This question came to Zelbreghn as a surprise and as such required a moment's thought. Running through his mind was a list of possibilities that would satisfy as an answer. Could it be fear? Or greed perhaps? Did the answer lay in such tangible emotions? Or was the answer really something much simpler? While any number of possibilities could be the answer that Rakln was searching for Zelbreghn felt it best to not try and blindly guess and so he simply replied that he didn't know.

"Culture, Zelbreghn. It's our grand culture and our appreciation for it that gives us this selfless mentality out of a desire to protect that culture."

Was that really the answer? Zelbreghn felt a little confused by Rakln's answer, and though he was a superior officer he felt that he shouldn't blindly accept it. This too was another trait that he felt made him better in the role of commander. "But do our allies not have their own rich cultures to be praised upon?"

"Yes they do," Rakln conceded with notable hesitation, "but are their cultures as old as ours? As rich as ours?" When the general pressed these questions to Zelbreghn he did so in a manner that made the answers seem obvious, at least to him.

Not willing to simply end Rakln's thoughts on that point Zelbreghn decided to voice his concern with the general's reasoning. "The Cardassians have a very rich culture," he replied as he fondly recalled the beautiful sights he had seen, most notably the architecture, during a stay on their homeworld a few years back. "And the Bajorans certainly have a very ancient and rich culture of their own." On this point Zelbreghn sat there in thought for a moment before he decided to add, "All of our allies in fact have a pretty rich and diverse culture that they can claim as their own."

"Yes, yes they all do, to an extent..." Rakln's words trailed off there as he tried to think of a solid way to convince the soldier before him of the point he was trying to make. His tone seemed to take on a mood that made Zelbreghn feel as though his constant questioning of the general was leaving Rakln upset, but this was in fact far from the case. Rakln always enjoyed debating such matters with those around him and he always saw it as a new opportunity to sharpen his wits. Sitting there and sifting through recent events an idea suddenly came to Rakln's mind and he rose from his chair and made his way to the painting admired by Zelbreghn earlier.

When the general stood up Zelbreghn started to do the same out of military courtesy, but at the last minute he decided to simply sit and wait. His eyes followed the seasoned general as he walked across the room and a simple feeling of curiosity wrapped itself around Zelbreghn's mind as he sat and wondered what was on the general's mind. Silence fell upon the two Breen soldiers and the office they occupied until Rakln finally decided to speak.

"This painting here," he said as he gestured to the waterfall painting that adorned the wall behind his desk, "has quite a history behind it. I'm sure you are well aware of it." The whole time Rakln spoke he stared ahead, not taking his eyes off of the painting and leaving his back to be all the commander could see.

"Of course I do. Every child is told of it." Zelbreghn said as his casual tone began to give way to confusion and hint slightly at insult. Another pause ensued as he waited for the general to continue on with his thought and to explain his reason for the question, but this moment wouldn't come. Instead Rakln turned slightly so that he could look over his shoulder at Zelbreghn as if urging him to tell the story, as if its telling was of some consequence. Zelbreghn sat there in an attempt to make certain that this was what was wanted of him. Once he was sure he gave an inaudible sigh before relating the well known story.

"Ten centuries ago, when our culture was still considered feudal, there was a king named Jolm'h who was considered to be the wisest and strongest man of the day. He was envied by all who looked upon him and all that envied him longed for a chance to serve in his court. One day when his daughter came of age he announced that she would be wed to whomever could meet his challenge."

Zelbreghn paused for a moment and simply stared at the general's back, hoping that somehow who could gain insight into the man's thoughts and find out why this simple tale was so important. Unable to divine such answers he went on.

"That challenge was for each suitor to go out and find something to match his daughter's beauty to be presented as a gift to her. Hundreds of warriors went out and brought back all sorts of jewelry, fine clothing, and other material things of the like in the hopes that one of these items would impress upon Jolm'h enough to gain his daughter and entrance to his court. While each of these treasures were enough to marvel the warriors, and indeed all common eyes that laid upon them, they left the great king with little more than a larger pile of shiny acquisitions. Being a ruler over a great many lands he had been tributed with so many articles already that these minor tokens given in the hopes of his daughter's hand did nothing to impress upon him at all. For many years this continued and not one soul could claim the princess' hand."

"Then one day a timid cobbler made his way into Jolm'h's court. _"What brings you to my grand hall, cobbler?" _Jolm'h asked the man upon his entrance. _"I have come bearing a gift, my lord, in exchange for your daughter to become my bride." _the cobbler replied in a firm tone despite the frail state he had been put into in the king's presence. Jolm'h looked over the man before him and, noticing how impoverished the man appeared, seriously doubted him to have something that could equate to his daughter. Nevertheless he decided to humor the man. _"I have not an earthly possession to buy such a beauty from you, my lord, nor do I have anything that could match the offerings of this land's fine noblemen. Instead I offer onto you this simple work,'" _he said before removing a painting from the sack that had been tied to his back."

"The painting was of a waterfall that Jolm'h had never before laid witness to. The cobbler, Nercht'k, explained that while he had not been blessed with earthly possessions he had been blessed with finding the waterfall, to which he said, was second in beauty only to Jolm'h's daughter. Those that were present at this moment looked on readily in their belief that Jolm'h would cast off this simple painting and turn Nercht'k away. Something though in that painting struck a chord within the wise king and he saw what the painting truly represented. While everyone else had thought beauty to come from all that glittered Nercht'k was able to find beauty, pure and untainted beauty, in the simpleness of nature. This concept and this painting moved Jolm'h so much that he gave his daughter to Nercht'k, as well as the waterfall that will forever live in his namesake, and helped to start a new enlightened age for our people. An age where simple pleasures were more valued over extravagant ones and where greed could finally give way to prosperity. It was the beginning of a bridge between our once savage ways and the noble ways that made us truly a great people. A people, in my strong belief sir, that is still as noble as Nercht'k and still as truly great as a people can be."

As Zelbreghn finished the story Rakln found himself smiling. This soldier showed promise at becoming one of their people's great heroes. "Very good, commander." Rakln said as he turned to face Zelbreghn. "Now, what about that?" he said as he gestured towards a glass case across the room from him.

Zelbreghn's gaze stared at the general's hand and traced its invisible path across the room to where it undoubtedly ended. Unable to clearly see what the glass encased he slowly rose up from his chair. Once he was fully standing he briefly looked back at the general as though he suddenly needed permission to approach whatever the case contained before making his way across the general's office. Standing before the case he saw the gleaming weapon it contained. Bringing his fingers to hover just above the glass he traced the three curved and serrated blades that jutted from the weapon's hilt. "An ash'kl," Zelbreghn said in awe of the death bringer. "I didn't think that any still existed."

"There were five recovered from the battlegrounds of the Galroxia Plains a few years back. Three of them were presented to various museums on our homeworld. One is at display at the weapon's gallery back at headquarters. And, well there is the fifth one." Zelbreghn's reaction to this news was so tangible that Rakln could immediately sense how the soldier felt about this discovery, even though Zelbreghn's back was turned to him and there was no discernible sign of reaction in Zelbreghn's posture. Rakln could not blame the man for this reaction, for he himself had such a reaction upon seeing this ancient and deadly blade. He knew that whatever Zelbreghn was feeling though was about to be completely overshadowed by his next revelation. "That blade is an original too," Rakln added before smugly crossing his arms across his chest and standing in wait of Zelbreghn's next reaction.

"You mean this blade was actually..." Zelbreghn started to say, but suddenly found himself breathless and wordless as complete awe swept through him.

"Yes, commander." Rakln said as he took a step towards the soldier and the blade he was in so awe of. "That blade was one of the original blades that protected our people and drove back the Hur'q scum when they tried to invade our world centuries ago."

At the mention of the Hur'q name and the long ago war Zelbreghn found himself quickly turning around and facing the general, who was now only a step away. If the blade before him had truly seen the bloodshed that had been inflicted upon the would be invaders then this was not to be looked at as just some blade. No, this was an icon and a symbol of all the greatness embodied within a Breen. It felt to him in that moment to be something of a holy icon, and he nearly felt that he should kneel to pay homage to this blade and the brave warriors that had wielded it. Instead he simply stood there and stared at Rakln, not quite sure what to do next.

Sensing the awe and admiration that Zelbreghn had for this blade made Rakln smile. In that moment he decided to ask the man before him one final question, to make one final judgment of him, before telling Zelbreghn what he had in mind for him. "Would you like to hold it?" he asked plainly as he walked up to the glass case.

This question struck Zelbreghn with such a force that he nearly toppled over in stupor. He could hardly believe this relic to be before him, and now he was being given the chance to touch it, and therefore touch a piece of glorious Breen history itself. Inside his mind screamed the words to accept this noble and rare gift, yet in the moment his mouth grew dry and the words seemed to be impossibly stuck in his throat. After a moment's wait Rakln turned to look upon the Breen commander to see if there was an answer somewhere present within Zelbreghn's being. With the general's gaze locked upon him Zelbreghn found it even more difficult to answer the question, and with only the smallest bit of strength he could summon he slowly began to nod his head in assent.

Underneath his helmet Rakln couldn't help but to smile anew at Zelbreghn's reaction. He could already tell that this soldier was exactly the kind he hoped all would become when they left the training academy. This brand of warrior that was so well versed in their culture as to selflessly sacrifice their being in the hopes of preserving and honoring that culture was a brand that Rakln considered truly noble and felt especially proud that the kind could be found among the Breen ranks. As a reward for that nobility Rakln thought it only fit that he allow this fine soldier to touch a piece of the culture he had sworn his life to protect.

Slowly Rakln opened the case in a manner that seemed to add dramatic effect to the moment that was shared between the Breen general and his subordinate. Once nothing separated the two Breen from the gleaming relic Rakln reached in and firmly grasped the blade in the palm of his hand. Taking his eyes off the weapon briefly he looked at Zelbreghn as the commander held out his hands in eager anticipation at the chance to touch the almost holy relic. As the general placed the ash'kl in Zelbreghn's hands he felt a new surge of joy come to him through this blade and for a moment he felt as though he had touched the hand of an angel; or a devil.

Carefully Zelbreghn gripped the ash'kl's hilt firmly in the palm of his hand and he slowly twisted his wrist so as to get a better view of every facet the weapon had to offer. The precision handiwork that had been done to this blade, its subtle curves, the way the centuries old metal still gleamed in the plasma lighting of Rakln's office, all of these facts were enough to take Zelbreghn's breath away and leave him in complete awe of the ash'kl. Standing there and holding this blade from another time Zelbreghn couldn't help but to let his mind wander back to the day when this blade shined new and was coated in the thick blood of a fallen foe. Oh those surely must have been glorious days! If only he could be given the chance to go back for one day and to live in those times. As his mind traveled to thoughts of the past Zelbreghn, in a child-like fashion, began to flick his wrist back and forth, imitating the various techniques that were used by ash'kl warriors of the day. He kept up this play for several moments until he suddenly realized what he was doing and as he looked at the general his face suddenly glowed red in embarrassment underneath his helmet.

Watching the younger officer dart and weave with the ancient weapon caused Rakln to laugh, but only on the inside, and only to himself. The child-like swordplay that the commander was engaged in seemed not too infantile to the on looking general. Zelbreghn's moves and technique reflected a truly skilled warrior that made his actions anything but that of a child. The other reason that Rakln could place no blame upon the man was because he himself had felt the need to give the blade a test once it had been given to him. These actions of the commander solidified a decision in Rakln's mind, and he was about to relay that decision to Zelbreghn, but suddenly the comms unit placed on his desk started to beep in a demand for his attention.

Once the unit started to beep the silence of the office around the two soldiers collapsed in on itself, and with it collapsed the ancient imaginings that Zelbreghn had fallen into. As Rakln made his way back to his desk to answer the incessant noise Zelbreghn carefully placed the blade back in its case. Staring at it and all the glory it represented he ran his fingers over its smooth surface one last time before bringing the lid down close on the case and sealing the token from the past back where it would be protected for another day and another generation. With that accomplished the Breen commander turned back around just as Rakln finished speaking with whomever had saw fit to bother them.

As the channel was closed Rakln found himself standing there and silently cursing the news he had just received. He had thought there would be more time before they had to leave, and thusly he would have ample time to brief Zelbreghn on the mission they were about to undertake. For reasons known only to the top brass the time table for the mission had suddenly not been good enough. Because of those reasons they had found it necessary to push the timing of the mission up by several hours, and since they always got whatever they wanted with nary a word of dissent the new time table had been quickly accepted, thus forcing him into this frustrating predicament. Had he known how little his time with Zelbreghn would be then he would have come right out with his reasons for requesting the soldier the moment Zelbreghn had stepped into his office. Now though his presence was in need and he hadn't even been able to touch upon the subject with Zelbreghn. Giving way to a sigh Rakln knew that standing there and thinking about it was only serving to waste more precious time, and so he decided to just come out with his first question for the soldier before him. "How would you like to be given a new command?" Rakln tried to say as smoothly as possible, though he missed the mark and the tension he felt about being rushed in this situation was clearly present.

A new command? The question and the thoughts that it entailed overwhelmed Zelbreghn and he scarcely knew what to say. For months he had been cooped up in this station with only the desire to rejoin the fight and make himself feel useful once more. The sudden prospect of being given a new ship to command, taking it into the torments of war, and using it to further victory for his people against the Romulans seemed a godsend. He almost couldn't respond to the general's question as the moment swept him up, but somehow he managed to choke out, "Yes sir, very much."

"Very well then," Rakln said in response as he looked over Zelbreghn and sized him up one final time. Despite the shortness of time he had known the commander, Rakln had gotten a strong impression of the man. A big enough impression to know that Zelbreghn was exactly the type of soldier he wanted commanding the flagship of this operation. "Come with me," he quickly said before making his way through the office's door and back out into the station's vast hallway.

As Zelbreghn stepped out into the familiar hallway that he had used to get to Rakln's office he nearly paused for a moment as something about it seemed very unfamiliar to him. Looking up and down it didn't take him more then the shortest of moments to realize why the hallway suddenly seemed so alien to him. It was empty; totally and completely empty. Not a soul could be seen moving in either direction and an eerie quiet had taken advantage of the vacancy to descend upon the normally flooded area. In the entire time he had been posted at this station he had never seen the main hallway to be so void of life. Even in the restless hours of twilight there had always been someone here and on duty. Now it seemed there was no one else on the entire base save for him and Rakln. With the silence came a dark foreboding sense to the Breen commander and he couldn't help but to shiver at its touch as he and the general stepped onto the nearest turbolift.

The trip downward into the depths of the station was a quiet one, as Rakln spent his time wondering what exactly he should say to Zelbreghn and the commander in turn wondering what could have caused the lifelessness he had witnessed in the main hallway. Of the two only Rakln's thoughts were constructive and as they stood there waiting for their journey's end he suddenly felt that something needed to be said. "Would you like to know the mission we are about to go on?" the general casually asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead the whole time.

Standing there Zelbreghn could scarcely think of what to say. For the third time in the brief moment the two soldiers had known each other Rakln had asked him what he felt was an obvious question. Of course he would want to know about the mission he was apparently getting ready to disembark on. Just like he of course would like a new command posting and to have held the ash'kl. Had these questions come from anyone else then Zelbreghn might have become annoyed and labeled them as stupid. Out of his easy, forgiving nature, and the fact that he found himself enjoying the presence of Rakln's company, he decided to shove any feelings on the matter aside and give a simple and firm yes.

"Do you know of the Reta'ul system?" Rakln asked plainly, not moving a single muscle on his body other than his mouth.

Reviewing his knowledge on all the various star systems Zelbreghn suddenly remembered a report he had once read about that particular system. In it was described a desolate system with eleven worlds, all made of barren rock and hunks of useless ore. It was an utterly insignificant system, and the only reason he knew of it at all was because it was placed just within the Romulan's side of the border. This had caused him to familiarize himself with its name even though it was the last place he thought that anything of relevance would occur. After a few moments of waiting for an answer Rakln cleared his throat and turned slightly to look at Zelbreghn. Startled, Zelbreghn gave a quick nod before the general saw fit to continue on.

"Our intelligence has suggested that a large number of Romulan vessels are being diverted to that system. More then four dozen warbirds are estimated to have arrived, and who knows how many more might join them. Their intention though is clear." On these words the turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open.

Stepping off the lift Zelbreghn noticed they were on the station's docking ring as he wondered how all this information was relevant to him. He tried to think of a reason why the Romulans would suddenly choose the Reta'ul system as a staging place for an attack force. It was near the border, but that was the only strategic value he could find. Going over every iota of data he felt himself lost as to why the Romulans would send such a large group there. Then the obvious hit him and he felt completely stupid. He put the question to himself about where he would send his forces to prepare for a strike on the enemy. Of course it would be to a desolate system, right to where the enemy would overlook. Plus the Reta'ul system was far from any of the recent battles, so it would make sense that no Alliance vessels would be close enough to stop this force before it crossed over into Alliance space.

"Reports further say that it will be several days before they are ready to launch their attack. We are going to intercept that fleet before then." The tone that Rakln used as he delivered the statement had such a commanding presence to it that Zelbreghn felt thoroughly convinced that it was not only possible for the Romulan vessels to be stopped, but also that there was nothing that would prevent them from being stopped. "And," Rakln said with a pause as he made his way to a nearby viewport, "we are going to do it in that."

Joining his commanding officer at the viewport Zelbreghn looked out to see a gleaming warship locked into one of the station's many construction cradles. Everything about it seemed designed in such a way so as to impress anyone who looked upon it. From its sleek look, to the way the hull seemed to glow in reflection of the system's sun, it was a sight that forced Zelbreghn to catch his breath. Even though it was of the same class as literally hundreds of vessels in the Breen fleet, including his ill-fated Tzlih, there just seemed to be something special about this particular ship.

"Commander Zelbreghn, I would like to introduce you to the Korylx, our latest addition to the fleet. And also, the new ship that I want you to command."

As Zelbreghn stared at the mighty vessel in continued awe he did not register the general's words right away. When he did though they left an impression upon him that left him without a single word to say.

Moving away from the viewport Rakln began to make his way down the hallway with Zelbreghn quickly coming up to join him. Though no words were said between them as they walked towards the airlock that would lead them to the Korylx Rakln could once more sense the commander's mood. The eagerness that Zelbreghn had rushing through him was so tangible that anyone within three feet of the man would instantly pick it up. These feelings were not something that surprised Rakln, nor did he condemn Zelbreghn for having them. In fact he himself was quite thrilled. Though most of that joy was due to the fact that Zelbreghn was so enthusiastic about rejoining the fight against the Romulans. Their war had been a very long and very costly one, and it wasn't uncommon for him to come upon troops that were so disheartened that they nearly seemed dead. To find someone that was so eager to fight with such a record as that of Zelbreghn's seemed in that moment to the general as nothing short of a miracle.

Inside his chest Zelbreghn could feel his heart racing with anticipation and his veins fill with adrenaline as the two soldiers made their way down the station's connector to the Korylx's airlock. Ever since he had managed to limp the crippled Tzlih out of the Kresh'nar Nebula, only to be captured by Romulan hands, he had longed for the chance to fight the Romulans again. He had seen that mission as a painful failure, one which he intended to make up for. Now that he was being given this new chance with this new ship he felt that finally he would be able to exact some retribution to the Romulans. This retribution would not be dealt solely for what they did to himself, but also for what they did to his crew. Those were the ones that had caused him to hope for this chance. He felt like their honor was dependant upon how much damage he could inflict upon the Romulans before his own death greeted him. The thought was similar to the Klingon one involving Sto'Vo'Kor, but he knew that it was wholly different. Either way he was a soldier at war, and as such he had vowed that until his breath was taken he would dedicate his life and his entire being to ending the lives of any Romulan he encountered.

The moment Zelbreghn's boot touched the metal plated flooring of the Korylx he felt a new rush of excitement come to him. Though the plating looked nearly indistinguishable from that of the station's connector Zelbreghn could tell he had now stepped onto his new, glistening ship. There just seemed to be an indescribable feeling in the air that told him so. Whatever it was though he felt the need to simply stand there for a moment to absorb the moment in before Rakln cleared his thought at the pair made their way to a nearby turbolift.

"Bridge," Rakln said in a toneless voice after they stepped onto the lift. Once the doors closed there was a sudden feeling of movement before the lift began its silent ascent.

While Zelbreghn's mind was caught up in the moment of being on this new ship it was not completely focused on the subject. There was another part that had something completely different that had seized its attention, and in the next moment Zelbreghn felt his lips move so this part could have a say as well. "Sir, what exactly is our plan once we get to the Reta'ul system?" he asked in honest curiosity.

Turning his head Rakln looked at the younger officer for a moment. Zelbreghn's question was one that he had not expected to be asked, though he felt stupid for letting it not be. Of course the officer would want to know the details of the mission he was about to be sent on. Any officer would. With an exhale of breath he decided that his mind had just been too wrapped up in things lately, and that this was the cause for his absence of information concerning Zelbreghn and the mission they were about to embark on. It was an absence that he decided to immediately make up for. Once he cleared his throat and wetted his lips he began to tell the commander of the plan to destroy this new Romulan threat.

"This mission is not going to be an easy one," Rakln plainly said. Once said he paused for a moment, wishing he had come up so some more encouraging words to open his plan. It was the truth though, and he saw no reason to hide the truth from a soldier during a time of war. With this in mind he continued. "We know the Romulan task force is somewhere in the Reta'ul system, but precisely where is a mystery. Obviously this means we are going to have to flush them out. A task that we can't do with a huge fleet, otherwise the Romulans are more likely to leave under cloak rather than expose themselves to us and a possible defeat."

Nodding his head Zelbreghn agreed with the general's assessment thus far. With their cloaking technology the Romulans certainly had an aptitude for sneaking around undetected. This advantage of theirs had caused countless death and loss for the Alliance. He also knew that this advantage was one that the Romulans wouldn't drop so casually.

"That is why there will be a small group, the Korylx as well as three other vessels, who are going to flush them out. It's hoped that if only one or a few vessels expose them then it will provoke them enough to drop their cloak and attack rather then let this information get back to the rest of the Alliance."

So many questions filled the commander's head that he couldn't think of what to ask first. Surely the general was leaving out a great deal of the plan that their leaders had devised. If not, then there were simply too many uncertainties for him to believe that anyone, especially this famed and seasoned war general, would sanction such a plan. "How exactly are we supposed to flush out the Romulan ships sir?" Zelbreghn asked as he decided that to be his first question to the general.

"Ah, this is where the plan gets a little tricky, commander." The statement was left in the air for a moment as Zelbreghn's curiosity about the plan grew unchecked. "Our scientists believe that by amassing such a large number of vessels in such a small area has caused an unexpected side effect from their cloaks. By what I was personally told, having that many cloaked vessels has caused a buildup of tachyon particles in the system. If we recalibrate our sensors with a point oh-two variance and flood the area with iso radiation then we should be able to detect the Romulan fleet. Even through their cloak."

While this seemed an adequate response to his question Zelbreghn still didn't feel completely satisfied by it. From Rakln's tone this plan seemed sketchy at best. Even with this rough idea of what they would be doing Zelbreghn still saw too many holes in their little plan to make it viable. Especially when he considered how many lives would surely be risked on this gamble of theirs. "And what are our vessels to do when they detect the Romulan fleet, sir? Surely you aren't expecting a few vessels to take on an enemy force of this magnitude, are you?" This question had rested itself as the second most important on his long list and he felt that it was absolutely necessary that it be answered before their arrival at the bridge.

"Once they expose the Romulan threat then their orders are to turn tail and run." This statement, along with Rakln's stern and straightforward tone, let his words hold such a force behind them that they left the Breen commander beside him stunned. Rakln must have picked up on this change in Zelbreghn's mood because the general quickly recovered his position with a question. "Are you familiar with the Bassen Rift, commander?"

The Bassen Rift. With the mention of this part of space Zelbreghn once more picked through the database in his mind in the hopes that he would find some information locked away about this particular rift. Having quick memory recall he was able to easily find all the information about the Bassen Rift that he knew. As the information came to him he gave a nod in response to Rakln's question, yet he hardly knew why this particular region of space had been mentioned.

"That is where the bulk of our fleet will be in wait. Our plan is that when the scouts detect the cloaked Romulan fleet they are to turn around and head at full speed for this rift. The Romulans will undoubtedly pursue in an attempt to destroy any vessel that has made their position. Remember, they don't know that we know their fleet is in the Reta'ul system. So when they see our ships turn and run they will be under the impression that our ships will be trying to exit Romulan space and get a message back to the Alliance about their presence. They will follow right into the Bassen Rift, right to where we will close the trap on them. Since the rift disables long range communications we will be able to decimate the Romulan forces and they will be unable to call for reinforcements or to tell their brethren of our presence within the rift."

It was a bold plan. Zelbreghn had to admit that much if nothing else. There were plenty of ways for this plan to fail for them and it was full of risks that could prove fatal in the end. Still, despite the various risks and assumptions that were involved, he could see the sheer audacity of the plan, and for that alone he felt a measure of pride. This was the plan of a true warrior, of a Breen, and whether it was fool proof or not he felt in that instant it was bound to succeed. After all, was it not typically the most chaotic and suicidal plans that ended up succeeded? Maybe it was only those types of plans that were remembered. Either way though as the turbolift began to slow he felt confident about this plan, and with a step onto the Korylx's bridge he pushed any lingering doubts out of his mind.

That first step out of the turbolift was the biggest and most important step that Zelbreghn had taken since his release from the Romulan prison camp on Carraya IV those many months ago. Since he had been stuck in near exile aboard the Breen station since his return from capture he had wondered if he would ever be allowed to rejoin the fight against his Romulan foe. Even when Rakln had told him that he was to be given a fresh command that seemingly long time ago he had scarecly believed he would actually be going into combat. As he stepped onto the Korylx's bridge however all doubt had been cast aside. This was the first time he had been on the bridge of a Breen warship of this design since he had been ripped from the battered one of the Tzlih. With this new ship and this new crew he felt like he was being given the chance to make up for any failures he had had so far in his military career. It was a second chance, a rare chance, and he felt determined that he would not let this chance be squandered. He felt determined that by the day's end he would make the Romulans pay for all the atrocities they had committed.

Taking in the sight of the bridge around him Zelbreghn moved his gaze across each of the bridge crew as they made last minute preparations for their departure. To him it felt like so long ago since he had been on the Tzlih's bridge and in command of some of the finest officers he had ever met. They had been more than just fellow officers to him though. He had been in command of the Tzlih for nearly six years and in that expanse of time he had gotten to know each of them on a more personal level then was generally smiled upon during a time of war. He knew their spouses, their children, their whole living family, and in that respect he had felt as though he had become family himself. This had caused a great feeling of loss to him when the Tzlih had been captured and its crew had been killed or sent off. A far greater feeling than any commander would ever want to feel. While he enjoyed this new crew, and the new opportunity that had come with them, he couldn't help but to feel a little out of place. A ship in a time of war was expected to be a well trained killing machine, and its crew expected to never falter in the moment of battle. As a commanding officer Zelbreghn always felt it much easier for that machine to run smoothly when he knew of the officers around him and knew what to expect of them. In this new command he worried for a moment that this gap in knowledge would spell doom for him and the crew. Doubts of this nature were to be expected though and he simply vowed not to let them get the best of him.

The energy on the Korylx's bridge was a tangible excitement. That is the only way that Rakln could think to describe what he felt the moment he had steeped off of the turbolift. He knew this crew was excited about their upcoming mission, as well they should be. Being a warrior race the prospect of battle always seemed to excite a Breen with a passion not often seen in other races. They were a race that thrived on conquest, though they kept that thriving in check so as not to appear savage.

Rakln knew from records that these Breen that surrounded him were no different. They had all served with distinction and honor throughout the course of the war, and all had very high reputations to back those distinctions. The general felt that these were the best caliber of warrior that the ranks of the Breen army offered. He felt honored that he was about to stare death in the face along side them and turn that death against the Romulans. Knowing that with Zelbreghn now aboard the final piece of his plan had been put into place he decided to hold these warriors back from the field of battle no longer. "Helm, signal the station that we are ready for departure and prepare to engage warp the moment was have cleared the station."

"Aye sir," the officer at helm said, unable to hide his excitement about finally getting underway. It was an excitement that every officer around them showed as they stood ready at their stations in anticipation of the coming battle.

Not all the officers on the bridge were quite so eager though as Zelbreghn suddenly turned to Rakln, confusion apparent in his being. "You are coming with us, sir?" he asked stunned that Rakln had not ducked out after his arrival.

"Why of course I am commander," the general replied with a sort of zeal of his own. "Wouldn't miss this party for the world."

"But I thought..." Zelbreghn started, but suddenly decided not to finish his assumption.

"You thought you were going to command this ship, correct?" Rakln asked in a hushed tone as he stared ahead at the viewscreen. "Well you are Zelbreghn, don't worry about that. Someone at the top though decided that this little mission of ours was too important for it to go forward without a commanding presence such as myself here. So, in short, you're leading this ship and I'm leading this fleet."

This was becoming hardly the second chance that Zelbreghn had so longed for and had so believed he was getting when he stepped aboard the Korylx. In the throes of battle, and war itself, the last thing a commander needed was a superior there breathing down their neck and making his rank known. Rakln though he could tell was different. While he had woken up on this fateful morning knowing the man only by reputation and by their brief encounter at the Narendra Conference he felt an odd certainty that he knew this man now as best as any soldier could. With that belief came another belief in that Rakln was the rare type of superior that any troop under his command could respect and think highly of. Rakln had been a soldier for the people of their world, and in a universe of leaders with stereotypical arrogance and a lack of regard for those that served them, Zelbreghn felt it refreshing to see that this man's rank had done nothing to lessen his state of mind. As he kept this in mind he slowly slipped down into his new captain's chair and stared ahead as the Korylx finally cleared the station and sped off towards their rendezvous and towards destiny.

Several days later Zelbreghn found himself in a situation that seemed hauntingly familiar to his last command and what had inevitably ended in his capture. As in the Kresh'nar Nebula his vessel had aimlessly drifted across the Reta'ul system in an attempt to locate any sign of the Romulans. Unlike before when they were searching for dilithium ore and had run into the Romulans by accident this ship and this mission demanded their foe's presence.

It had been a rough couple of days for the crew since leaving dock. In the short time that Zelbreghn had been allowed to get to know his new officers he had quickly realized that each of these soldiers were among the best that Breen society offered. He felt honored that he had been hand selected to lead these fine warriors into death's shadow, but that feeling of honor couldn't make up for the uncomfortable feeling that persisted within him. Had his presence and his new ship not been so demanded by Rakln to participate in this mission then Zelbreghn would have asked for a less crucial mission to serve as a shakedown cruise for himself aboard this alien ship where he commanded an alien crew. He simply felt that to be of proper use to the war effort he and his crew needed the time to mesh together. Rakln would not hear of it though, and considering what was at stake, Zelbreghn could do nothing but agree with the general.

Rakln, like the rest of the crew, was beginning to show signs of strain at constantly being on the alert. As a mortal being only so much sacrifice could be asked of the body before it started to fight back. Not knowing when and where the Romulans would be discovered had forced the crew into a constant state of alertness. A state that they refused to slack in, fearing the moment they did so then their green-blooded enemy would reveal themselves and take advantage of the situation. Though it pained each of them they stayed at their respective posts ready for the moment when their waiting would pay off. Of all the officers on board Rakln had pushed on the most, allowing only small bits of food to be brought to him. They all shared in a dedication that bordered on insane fanaticism, and it was a dedication that marked them all as true and noble warriors.

"Begin scanning sector four fifty two," Zelbreghn ordered, weariness and fatigue apparent in his tone. Though fatigue was present in his tone and in the slacked posture in which he sat Zelbreghn would deny that he was being effected at all were anyone to ask. He was as determined as the rest of the soldiers around him to find the Romulans and be here when that moment finally came.

For countless hours the crew of the Korylx had blindly searched the area around Reta'ul's third planet, hoping for even the slightest elevation of tachyon particles to be present and signal that their search was over. Reta'ul was a vast system that spread out and contained eleven separate planets. Only three other vessels had been ordered to aide in the Korylx's search for the Romulans, bringing the total to four vessels that were combing the eleven planet system. In his fatigued mind Zelbreghn thought about a Terran saying he had once heard involving something called a haystack. He hadn't quite understood the saying's meaning at the time, but now he found it somehow applicable to the situation. Hope was beginning to dim on their chances of finding their foe that hid behind a veil of cowardice and Zelbreghn's mind was beginning to dim as well. Unable to fight off the demons of sleep any longer he started to nod forward in his chair, just as an alarm somewhere off to his right began blaring. Suddenly feeling awake and straightening himself, he took a moment to gauge where he was before he turned his attention to the noise's source.

"Sir, I'm picking up elevated tachyon readings in sector four fifty six," a young officer said with newfound hope and excitement.

"Could it be them? Could it actually be them?" Zelbreghn muttered in a hushed sense that was meant only for himself. A hand suddenly being placed on his shoulder though told him that Rakln had heard his questions of disbelief.

"Only one way to find out," the general said as he focused all his attention on the viewscreen in wondering anticipation about what was about to be revealed to them.

"Tactical, fire a salvo of spatial charges at those coordinates," Zelbreghn firmly said as he clasped his hands together in wait. While en route it had been decided between him and the general that spatial charges were to be used if they thought the cloaked vessels had been found. Having a low yield they both knew that the charges would do little more then ruin a warbird's pristine coat of paint, but while they would be useless in affecting any sort of damage it would light them up quite nicely.

"Firing," came the single and strong word of the Korylx's tactical officer as he entered the command to fire the charges.

Winding this way and that the charges seemed to dance upon the screen in an attempt show how truly remarkable they were. This display was one that the Breen soldiers would have gladly foregone, as in that moment they wished for nothing else then simply to have the charges complete their mission and reveal the pray they had so stalked. Finally upon arriving at the coordinates the charges exploded into a bright brilliance display of debris and plasma. As things began to settle and the moment grew still each and every officer present stared ahead, hoping that this would finally become their moment. Fading away into nothingness the last remnants of the charges rewarded their valiant wielders as the silhouette of four separate warbirds appeared on the screen.

"Fire all weapons!" Zelbreghn shouted in sheer ecstasy as he leaped out of his chair. He was not alone in this moment of joy as everyone around him felt it as well. With as much strength as he could muster the tactical officer entered onto his panel a sequence which told the Korylx to unload its fierce payload of weaponry upon the newly discovered foes. As it fired the Korylx herself seemed to shake with pure joy.

The sight that quickly took command of the moment saw the four warbirds as they helplessly bent under the full wrath of the Breen onslaught. In vain they attempted to decloak and raise their shields, hoping this thin barrier would be enough to lessen the Breen's assault and give them enough time to make sense of the situation and retaliate, but it was far too late for these vessels. Glowing of death the four warbirds suddenly became lifeless as their metallic hulls were set ablaze and sent spiraling down to the depths of the underworld.

Seeing four of their brothers suddenly and savagely die at the hands of these Breen aggressors six more warbirds decided to rise up to the call and force the bell of death to toll for Zelbreghn and his crew. Lost in the full swing of jubilation the Breen crew didn't see as the half dozen squadron encircled the lone Breen warship and decloaked, letting the full force of their weapons grace upon the Breen hull the moment their shields were raised. Everyone aboard felt this tap the Romulans had seen fit to lay upon them.

Thrilling over the quick death he had caused to four of the Romulans' mighty vessels Zelbreghn knew that phase one of their plan had been completed. Though he knew his ship to be surrounded he couldn't help but to let his crew enjoy that sweet moment of victory before they were thrust back to the bitter torments of battle. With the impact of the Romulan weapons he knew that it was time for phase two of their plan to be initiated. "Helm, lay in a course for the Bassen Rift, maximum warp." he ordered as the adrenaline of the moment began to die down.

"Wait!" General Rakln suddenly yelled out from behind Zelbreghn. This caused the commander to turn and face Rakln in confusion as the general spoke. "Tactical, how many warbirds have decloaked and are engaging us?"

"I'm picking up half a dozen, sir." the officer replied as he gripped his console for support as the impact of weaponry forced the whole ship to convulse.

"No, no that's not enough," Rakln began to mutter to himself. Moving towards the tactical station he simply shouted, "Fire all of our spatial charges!"

Watching the general as the ship came under wave after wave of Romulan fire Zelbreghn was in utter disbelief about Rakln's sudden behavior. "What are you doing sir?" he shouted as a console exploded. "We have to get out of here and back to the Bassen Rift!"

"No, not yet!" Rakln shouted as the Korylx began to whine its own reservations about staying. "We have to have more Romulan vessels exposed and chasing us, otherwise this will have all been in vain."

"The other ships can come and expose them sir! We have to get out of here now!"

"No, they might be gone by that time! We have to act now!" These were the last words spoken by Rakln as he shoved the tactical officer aside and proceeded to enter in the commands that he felt were needed before they could tuck tail and run to the mild safety the rift offered.

Outside the ship hundreds of spatial charges were sent flying in literally every direction. Dozens of warbirds were hit by these powerless weapons whose only purpose was to reveal the Romulan threat. In the same instance those warbirds that were already exposed continued to pummel the defiant Korylx mercilessly. Once several more warbirds had been exposed Rakln tapped a command which replaced the volleying charges with torpedoes that struck at these new foes and hit them right where Rakln had intended; their cloaking devices. As these vessels appeared on the screen, unable to keep up their shroud any longer, they too decided to fire upon the Breen vessel that had so quickly and so painfully became a pest.

In desperation Zelbreghn shifted his gaze from the viewscreen to the stoic general. A quick nod came from Rakln which signaled his readiness to depart this chaos that had been born of his hand. "Now!" Zelbreghn shouted as he turned back to his helm officer, who quickly responded by entering in the engage command. With a hard lurch the Korylx's violent shaking ceased as it jumped into warp.

Silence made itself known as each of the officers on the bridge felt the need to take a moment's breath and let themselves grow calm in this wake after so much chaos had threatened their lives. "Are the Romulans following us?" Zelbreghn asked of Rakln as he stared at the mighty general. An odd thing then occurred, and as the two commanding officers stared at each other in the silence time itself seemed to freeze. For an untold stretch time held still in this matter and neither man knew quite what to think about it. Then suddenly with a jolt, time returned to normal and Zelbreghn's question was answered by a new impact of weapons fire. Wherever the fire ended up hitting was of no consequence to Zelbreghn. What was of consequence to him though was its result, and that result was the tactical console suddenly exploding and Rakln's body being suddenly tossed with a crushing thud into a nearby bulkhead.

"General!" Zelbreghn shouted as he rushed to the aide of his fallen superior. The moment his eyes laid open Rakln's body his mind knew it was grim. It whispered that Rakln would soon be dead, if not so already. Despite this, Zelbreghn still rushed over and cradled the general's broken body in his arms.

"Zelbreghn," Rakln suddenly said with a cough of blood as he gripped the commander's arm.

"It's okay sir," Zelbreghn said as he tried to calm Rakln in his final moments. "Just rest for a moment and you'll be fine."

"Promise...promise me something...Zelbreghn," Rakln said with apparent difficulty as his soul began to pull away from its broken body and his mortal mind began to grow dim.

"Forty-five seconds until rift perimeter," the helmsman shouted to anyone that could still listen.

"What sir?" Zelbreghn choked out, sounding almost exactly like Rakln. His words were hindered though for a whole different reason. They were hindered by emotion, and the feeling of loss that began to take hold of him as he gripped the failing body of a true hero to the Breen people.

"Promise...promise that you will hold back the night...Promise that these Romulans...will not defile our world...and promise...that you will destroy theirs."

"On the name of the Holy Matriarch Pendrya, I promise this too you oh holy and noble warrior of the Breen people."

"It was...an honor...Zelbreghn," with this final praise Rakln's body gave into one final spasm of pain before it went limp in Zelbreghn's arms and the stoic General Rakln lay dead.

Gripping onto Rakln's body for a moment Zelbreghn forced himself to swallow hard and bury any emotions that Rakln's death was causing him. Gently he laid the general's body down upon a pile of debris just as a new explosion came from the helm station behind him. A shard of debris from this explosion came flying at the grieving commander and struck him squarely in the back of the head. While his durable helmet took the brunt of this impact, there was still enough force behind it to cause a great deal of pain to Zelbreghn's head. Collapsing backwards he grabbed his head and gave a scream that could have easily been born of either physical or emotional pain.

Lying there as his mind began to slip into unconsciousness his frantic eyes searched the smashed room around him. From what he could see there was not a soul left alive on the bridge, though it was hard to tell through all of the thick smoke. Unwilling to go so quietly into the darkness his mind beckoned, he struggled to focus his view on the screen. Through a thick layer of smoke that was followed by an equally thick layer of static Zelbreghn could just barely make out the green backdrop that made up the Bassen Rift and he could just barely make out a swarm of Breen warships as they opened fire upon their unwitting Romulan prey. They had succeeded. He and Rakln had succeeded, and now the Romulans would pay dearly. Oh how they would pay dearly in the end. With this vow, and a vow that he would suffer no more losses at their hands, a peaceful smile rested itself upon his lips as he finally gave his wounded head it's only desire, and slipped into a pit of black unconsciousness.


	19. The Line in the Sand

_Chapter Nineteen: The Line in the Sand_

Mission  
After the destruction of a Romulan scout vessel in the Corlidemia sector, one thing becomes clear to the Alliance: the Romulans are coming to destroy the Kendra Alpha shipyards. Resources spread thin, the Kri'stak is sent under the command of Koltarn to stand alone between the Bajoran station and the Romulan onslaught.  
Mission Date:  
263rd day in the 2369th of Molar

Feeling the ground shift beneath his legs he could tell that they were dragging him along. Where they were dragging him too he could only guess at. He wasn't even certain that he was indeed being dragged, the sensation of movement could have been caused by the immense pain that was swimming about his head, but since the officer appeared done with him he assumed that the guards were dragging him back to his cell.

Up ahead he heard a few passing guards gloating over the Star Empire's recent victories, and about how the war was sure to end in Alliance defeat soon. Again he found his mind to be wondering; this time whether the guards were speaking the truth or simply passing along more of the propaganda fed to soldiers by their superiors. It was hard to imagine that the Romulans had such an advantage over them, but then again the war had not been favoring his side when he was captured. In fact it was because of the tide that he had been captured. Mounting losses had prompted desperate actions, and that desperation allowed for his downfall.

A new wave of pain hit him as the sunlight dimmed and the sounds changed from idle chatter to painful shouting. Undoubtedly he was now inside of the building set apart to hold prisoners of war, and would momentarily find himself back in the comforts of his own cell. Strange as it might seem, he welcomed this prospect. Not because he enjoyed the cramped room that he was forced to share, but because within the cell's confines came safety; momentary safety from the torturing hand of the base's commander. That safety was a welcoming thing to him as it was only in those moments could he find the strength to continue on and to continue to resist the temptation of breaking to the Romulan's will and giving up in his struggle.

Without warning he felt his legs rise up off of the ground and his entire body being sent through the air. There was a hard thud and a fresh sensation of pain as he hit the ground. Hearing laughter come from just ahead he imagined the guards were enjoying the opportunity to toss about a strong officer of the Alliance such as himself. How pathetic they were to gang up on him when his strength was diminished. If they had taken him on before his capture, or even been patient enough for him to recover from the harsh and brutal torturing, then he would have ended their laughter. For now though he was forced to simply sit here in stagnation and recovery; licking his wounds in wait for the moment when he could rejoin his people's fight and bring about the Romulans defeat once and for all.

Carefully he tried to open his eyes, but even that simple task caused him a great deal of pain. During his latest 'chat' with the base's commander he had been hit in his right temple very hard by what he could only guess at. Whatever instrument had been used it had left a mark, both by the throbbing pain of his skull and by the swelling that had turned his right eye useless. Even though his right eye was a lost cause at the moment he knew that he still had another eye at his disposal, and it was with that eye that he focused his efforts. There may not have been much to look at in the small stone room, but at this point he felt that anything would be better than the depthless black that was currently his world.

Only after giving it much effort was he finally able to open his left eye and take in the desolate view of his surroundings. Quickly taking everything in, he looked for his Breen cellmate, hoping to find some conversation and something to take his mind off of the pain. There was no sign of him. Being absent, he wondered what had happened to the soldier, fearing that the Breen might have been killed or at least laying gravely wounded. Despite only knowing the man for a short time a bond had formed between them due to their shared incarceration, and their shared hatred for the Romulans that kept them locked up. Seeing no sign of the Breen now he shifted uneasily, worried what might have become of the man. He didn't get the chance to worry long though as a pair of gray boots across the room caught his eye. For a moment he thought the boots might belong to his cellmate, but that assumption was quickly tossed aside as he realized with disgust who was standing before him.

"Ah, I'm glad to see that you're conscious," the boots' owner said as he took a step forward and realized the prisoner's condition. "It would have been such a shame if I had come all this way only for you to fall asleep on me."

For a moment he thought he had imagined the voice, that it was nothing more than a delusion brought on by his injuries. Deep down he knew that wasn't the case, but how could he possibly be before this man again? He had just left the base commander's presence and left the cruel hand which had been dealt. And yet here, clear across the compound and in the safety of his cell, he was once again in this Romulan's presence? Collapsed upon the dirtied ground he found it impossible to wrap his mind around such a thing.

"I know I know, we just got through talking," the Romulan said as he began to pace back and forth across the room, all the while keeping his eyes locked on the Klingon before him. "But I couldn't help but to feel that something was on your mind, something that you were just so eager to tell me."

"I'll never tell you a thing pa'tahq!" he shouted as he struggled to stand up and move towards the Romulan. Regaining any sort of standing posture proved more difficult than he thought though, as a fresh wave of pain rippled from a broken rib. Losing his balance, he tumbled back down to the ground, seething as he did so.

Watching as his wounded prisoner tumbled back down upon the ground the Romulan couldn't help but to laugh. "Come on Koltarn, we don't have to be enemies here. Just because our governments can't get along doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"Friends?" Koltarn asked with utter contempt. "After all the suffering you have brought to me, to my people, you want to be friends?"

"Ah, you must understand that was out of my hands. This war has forced all of us into positions which we would normally be disgusted with, such as my own. I was given orders, and sadly I had to carry them out or face consequences." Trying to sound as diplomatic about things as possible the Romulan approached the wounded Klingon and bent down to look him eye to eye. "Surely, as a fellow soldier, you can appreciate such a position."

For a moment Koltarn felt like laughing at the sheer futility of the commander's efforts to gain his trust and friendship. Did the Romulan before him actually believe he was stupid enough to fall for such an obvious ploy to gain information from him? Or was the commander just growing desperate about the fact that he had been unable to get anything from Koltarn? Realizing how much his lack of cooperation was surely infuriating the Romulan commander, Koltarn's determination to hold out was suddenly reaffirmed. "Appreciate this," he muttered before sending a thick string of saliva to land upon the Romulan's face.

Patience tested and anger now fully consuming him, the commander lost the last bit of restraint he had and suddenly found his hand colliding with Koltarn's right cheek. Once the Klingon lay sprawled upon the floor the Romulan commander walked over to the door and summoned two nearby guards who were eagerly awaiting their chance to show the Klingon soldier the regard they had for his kind. Bursting through the door they circled the wounded Klingon form and began kicking him with the full force of their boots...

Suddenly Koltarn shot up in bed, dripping sweat and feeling wholly disoriented. It took him a moment to realize where he was. That he was in his quarters aboard his new command, the Kri'stak, and that his cell on Carraya IV was now a pile of rubble left in the wake of Commander Mulkrit's rescue of him. Once he felt that the haunting dream had fully passed, Koltarn got off the black slab that made up his bed and walked into a small adjoining room.

Stumbling into the room Koltarn reached for the inset button that would fill the room's sink with water. As it slowly filled he stood there for a moment, thinking about the dream he had just awaken from. Even though he had lived through the horrors of being a prisoner of war, and done so with the utmost strength and resolve for not letting the pain overwhelm him and cause a slip of the tongue, he still felt horrible about it. He should have died on Delpox II, died alongside Turax and the rest of his men. Instead, the Romulans stole from him the chance to die in combat and stole his honor by forcing him into the role of captive. Being Klingon, he couldn't help but to feel ashamed by this fact.

To add further insult to his honor he was constantly haunted by dreams of his time spent on Carraya IV. Each time he let his mind slip into depthless unconsciousness he found himself back in that prison cell and back under the guards' harsh treatment. The fact that his imprisonment bothered him so much as to haunt him further shamed the once proud Klingon warrior. How could anyone respect him as a warrior if they knew that he couldn't simply shrug off the pain of being captured and move on with his life? It was one thing to be captured and forced to live in enemy hands for a Klingon, entirely another for the experience to bother him. At least bother him enough to cause him to fall into such despair.

Frustration boiling up inside of him over the matter, he let out a scream and suddenly smashed the mirror in front of him with his fist. The Romulans had taken so much from him, so much from his people, and yet still they persevered. They persevered despite the entire known galaxy being against them, and they persevered with such a smug attitude that made Koltarn physically sick. He wanted to crush them, hoping that act would help him to fully regain all that had been lost. Within his being he knew that their death wouldn't bring his salvation, but maybe it could bring the salvation of so many innocent others.

Staring at the cracked and shattered mirror Koltarn couldn't help but to feel as though his reflection was now an accurate one. In the wake of his capture and subsequent release he felt as though his being had become such a fragmented thing. In one aspect the events on Delpox and Carraya caused him to feel shame and question his value as a warrior of the Empire. In another, those events merely served to fuel his anger and his hatred towards Romulans. They who withstood the Alliance onslaught for so many years and did nothing but inflict more pain upon the worlds that he was pledged to protect. Tightening his fist he knew that the war had to be ended, and soon. Too many lives had been lost over the course of the war, and if they did not do something to bring about the Romulans' end and the war's end soon then everyone that had died would have done so in vain. Pushing all other matters aside he realized that this was his true purpose; the purpose for which he had been spared on Delpox and kept alive in the prison camp. For the sake of Turax and all others who had died by Romulan hands he vowed that this end would indeed come.

Having his mind fall to some sense of composure he cupped some of the cool water and splashed it across his face, feeling as though all of his worries and fears were now washed away. His experiences in the Romulan prison would be with him for the rest of his life, whether he chose to acknowledge them or not. Knowing this he also knew that to let the memory of those experiences consume him would ultimately do nothing but to help give the Romulans a complete victory over him. There was a war raging on outside of his mind, and in that war his people were struggling against impending death. In that struggle he was needed, needed by his people to turn the tide against the Romulan threat and eliminate that threat once and for all. Koltarn was determined to be there to fight back that threat and to do whatever it took to make the Romulans pay for what they had done to him.

Suddenly his thoughts were broken into by a soft chime as someone signaled from beyond his quarters' door. Completely unhappy about having to be bothered, he simply shouted "Come in," before dipping his hands back below the cool water's surface.

Slowly the room's door opened and in stepped his first officer. While he was nervous about bothering his commanding officer, especially when it was made so apparent that his commander didn't wish to be bothered, he showed no sign of it. He was a seasoned officer, having fought against the Romulans for the entire course of the war. After seeing and surviving all that he had there were few things that truly bothered him. Coming to speak with his commanding officer was not one of them, even though he knew that Koltarn's reaction to the news he brought would be an unfavorable one. Still, orders were orders, and in the throes of war all a soldier like him had left to hang onto were those orders and the ideals that clung to them.

Noticing that it was his first officer who had interrupted his thoughts, Koltarn felt that the interruption was surely warranted. Dral'k was a fine officer and had been decorated a half dozen times during his service in the war. It was this reputation that had made him a fine choice for first officer and caused Koltarn to choose him for such a duty. There was nothing that he seemed unable to do and truly his courage and honor were among the best that Klingon society had to offer. All these qualities and more helped Koltarn to know this man better than merely a glance could provide. If he was here then surely he had a reason for it. Looking over his shoulder at the silent officer he just gave Dral'k a glance that told his first officer that whatever was on his mind he should just tell his commander and get it over with. Taking in the gesture given to him by Koltarn, Dral'k cleared his throat before relating to his commander the recent news and recent orders that they had been given.

"General Martok has sent us new orders, sir." pausing for a moment Dral'k saw that the word 'orders' got the attention of his commander before continuing on. "Word has been sent that a Romulan scout vessel was seen in the Corlidemia sector approximately sixteen hours ago."

"The Corlidemia sector?" Koltarn muttered to himself, trying to remember what significance that name had. When it came, it shocked him so much that without even thinking he suddenly shouted in confusion "The Kendra Alpha shipyards?"

Giving a nod Dral'k added "A Romulan task force has already been dispatched. If our information is correct, then they will be at the station in just under twenty-two hours."

Reaching for a towel and wiping his hands dry Koltarn quickly did the math calculations in his head. At present, the Kri'stak was roughly twenty hours away from the Bajoran station. Even if they went full warp and used every last bit of energy the ship had, they would still arrive with only two hours before the Romulans attacked. That was of course assuming the intelligence reports were correct. Once this question was overcome his mind fell to another question that was even more dire. "Why, being so far away from the station, were we sent this information?"

This question was the most important one to Dral'k, because to answer it would give the worst bit of information that Martok had given him. "Our forces are getting spread pretty thin. The second and fourth fleets have been pressing our advantage in the Ventati system, and most of the third task force is staving off the Romulan assaults in the Reta'ul system. Because of this, we are the closest ship to Kendra Alpha, and the only one that stands a chance of making it on time."

When this news hit Koltarn he felt the full impact of it. An entire task force had been sent to sweep clean the shipyards and they were to face it alone? It was a suicide mission! Surely everyone picked up on that fact right away. He knew how valuable the Kendra Alpha shipyards were and how vital they were to the Alliance's success over the Romulans in this war, but to send only one ship to defend those shipyards seemed an unnecessary waste of a powerful ship and a fine crew. With resources as low as they were he just couldn't simply believe that General Martok would send them on a suicide mission.

Making his way out of the adjoining room he looked over his first officer, trying hard to mask the disbelief he was feeling. "What are our orders?" he asked, fearing that the words 'to the death' would be found woven into them somehow.

Taking in his commander's face General Martok's orders rang clear in his head. The look that Koltarn had, showed to the trained eye that he was a warrior that was void of a death wish, and that sadly the essence of what it meant to be Klingon had been lost in him. Knowing this, Dral'k figured that their orders would sit much better with his commander than with him. "The Bajoran's feel like the best course of action in this matter is to abandon the shipyards and use the self destruct on them."

"Oh?" Koltarn asked with interest as he stood before his first officer. He knew that not all of their allies had the same amount of courage and dedication to the war effort as the Empire did, but he never thought he would hear about any of them so blatantly turning tail from the enemy; especially from a base as crucial as the Kendra Alpha shipyards.

"Under protest, the other governments have agreed that abandoning the shipyards might be in our best interest. Considering all the lives and resources that would be lost if the Alliance were to put up a fight, plus the chance that the Romulans might be able to capture it before we can destroy it ourselves, has caused the other governments to agree with the Bajorans." The tone that Dral'k used as he delivered these words made it obvious that he himself did not agree with such a decision. He felt that for honor's sake they should stay to defend the shipyards against their Romulan foe, even if it brought about their own demise. But in the end he was merely a soldier, and soldiers followed orders. "Our orders are to protect the Bajorans as they evacuate and set the auto destruct, and then to rendezvous with their ships in the Gamma Eridon system."

Hearing these orders Koltarn didn't know whether he should feel relieved or upset about the prospect of ducking out of a fight. Something deep in his being was glad that his life was not the price he would have to pay for the evacuation of Kendra Alpha, yet the fact that they would be running from the enemy bothered him to the core. He was Klingon, and a soldier for the Empire. Being a soldier, he had been taught and ingrained with certain ideals, and one of those ideals was to never run from the enemy. No matter what he lived through or what he faced that ideal would always be there, a part of him, ready to make itself known whenever it felt compromised.

After standing there and mulling over their orders the two soldiers finally fell back into reality and took notice of how their crucial time limit was continuing to dwindle away as they stood there in silence. Looking around for a moment and seeing no further reason for them to stay, Koltarn gestured for the door and followed his first officer's lead out of his quarters and into the hallway.

At first neither soldier chose to speak. Appearances seemed to show that they enjoyed the stillness between them, but that stillness was only there because neither man could think of a thing to say. In calmer days there could be so much for a first officer and his commander to talk about, but in these days of war that seemed to be the only subject that rested in their minds and came to their lips. They were both so sick of this war: of the loss, the pain, the death, the blood. Both men knew that the other would gladly forgo any mention of what was going on if they could, and so as they stepped into the turbolift and made their way to the Kri'stak's bridge they stayed silent.

The moment the turbolift stopped and the two Klingon officers stepped onto the bridge Koltarn could feel a rush of tension come over him. Ever since their last engagement with the Romulans in the Dalaneb sector, the Kri'stak had been ordered to patrol the border between Alliance and Romulan space. Being on the border forced a constant state of readiness into the crew and that state made tension steadily rise to nearly a breaking point. They felt strained and on edge after having to spend several weeks in this state and they all longed for the wait to come to an end and for the storm to simply hit. News of their mission to defend Kendra Alpha would surely give them a new focus and a new ease. Like Dral'k though, they were almost sure to not like the part about abandoning the station during a fight.

Looking over his bridge crew Koltarn carefully wetted his lips as he readied himself to tell them of their glorious new mission. A mission they had all longed to be a part of for several weeks, now only to have it come to them with a price, the price of another sin to be brought down upon their honor. Clearing his throat and getting the crew's attention he knew this price to simply be another demand of war that left a bitter taste in the mouth of a soldier.

"My fellow soldiers of war, I stand before you with good news." Moving to stand next to his captain's chair he took in their expectant gazes and he could feel the sting of a politician's tongue creep its way into his mouth. "By order of General Martok, we have been selected for an important mission. A dangerous mission that will truly test our resolve against our mortal Romulan foe."

Before Koltarn could even continue on the mood of the surrounding crew already began to change. The promise of a mission against the Romulans, a mission that they had been hand selected for by the Empire's fleet general Martok, left each of their beings overwhelmed by an excitement that only comes with the promise of battle and glory. Knowing that this is how his crew felt it almost pained Koltarn to continue on.

"According to our intelligence reports there is a Romulan task force on its way to the Kendra Alpha shipyards in the Corlidemia sector. It has been calculated that they will be within striking distance of the facility in just under twenty-two hours." This new information brought with it the promise of insurmountable odds. Odds that were sure to bring about unparallel glory to the Klingon warriors should they manage to stave off the Romulan threat. While their excitement over the mission they were about to dive into doubled, Koltarn took a breath and gave them the hardest part of their orders.

"Our orders," Koltarn began, using all of his resolve to not falter in his words as his crew's minds shook off the newfound excitement to focus solely on their commander once more, "are to engage the Romulans to buy the Bajorans enough time to evacuate the station. Once the last of the Bajorans have evacuated, the station will be set to auto destruct and the Kri'stak is to break off and fall back to the Gamma Eridon system to rendezvous with the surviving Bajorans."

The order of a withdrawal from battle against the Romulans left each of the present soldiers understandably shocked. Throughout the course of the war there were so few instances where the Klingon hierarchy had ordered a vessel's retreat that it was nearly unheard of. For a warship as powerful as the Kri'stak to be given such an order was more than simply unheard of, it was unbelievable. Vessels of the design were built solely for one purpose; the annihilation of any and all enemies of the Empire. By giving this order was nothing short of denying the ship of its purpose.

"These orders came from General Martok?" Gorz'k asked from behind his tactical station, confusion and disbelief apparent in his tone.

Looking over his tactical officer Koltarn understood where the man was coming from. Along with everyone else aboard the ship they were soldiers, but more than that they were people, with their own ambitions and desires to be fulfilled. If there was one desire that they surely all held in common it was the desire to bring about the swift demise of any Romulan they encountered, and thus a swift end to the war. Glancing towards Dral'k for a moment and getting a silent confirmation from the first officer that the orders did indeed come from the fleet general, Koltarn simply said in response "Yes, yes they did. And as orders they must be followed."

A whole new state of shock seemed to run through each of the present soldiers as they could scarcely believe the glorious Martok would bestow upon them such a demeaning fate. "Sir," Gorz'k began to protest as Koltarn took his seat in the bridge's center. The word brought the two Klingons' eyes together and there was a brief pause before the tactical officer continued on. "The general just couldn't do this to us. He just wouldn't give us such orders, ones that only a fool would follow."

With these words the stolid Klingon commander couldn't help but to let out a sigh. Deep down he knew that his tactical officer was right, that Martok's orders were ones that no honorable Klingon could blindly follow. Be that as it may, they were still orders. "I don't like it anymore than you do Gorz'k; than any of you for that matter." Koltarn started, keeping his gaze ahead and distant. Slowly he turned to face his crew as his words continued. "But whether or not we like our orders is not debatable. They are simply that; our orders. And we are in state of war. A violent and costly war against a mortal threat. This is not the time for hesitation in carrying out our orders, our duty. For hesitation brings about only one thing, death. Death for us, and for those that are depending on us. We might not always understand or agree with what we are given, but to falter in following what we are given is nothing but faltering in our resolve to end this war; in our desire to end the Romulan's slaughter of countless civilians across countless worlds once and for all. Now I ask you, my fellow soldiers, is that something in good conscience you can admit too? Do you really want to give our enemy any chance to survive and come at us, to destroy us once and for all? For that is all that our pointless questioning and bickering will result in; giving the Romulans a chance to defeat us." Looking over the bridge and at each of his crewman's faces in silence Koltarn simply let his words sink in for a moment before he finished with "I for one refuse to let that happen."

A sobering realization came with Koltarn's speech, and that realization was not lost on any who had heard their commander speak. The war they currently were living, and dying, in was a tenuous one. One in which victory could easily shift to either side on a whim. Spending their time fighting each other, instead of fighting their common enemy, would only serve to aid the Romulans in their campaign. Like Koltarn, this was simply something they could not allow. Too much had been lost, too many had been lost, for them to so carelessly throw it all away.

Once his commander had finished speaking Gorz'k looked at the other bridge officers and immediately felt bad for speaking against their orders. Regret is not something that comes easily to a Klingon warrior, and it didn't sit well with this particular Klingon either. Still, he decided that the best thing to do was to put the entire matter behind him and focus back onto his duty. Walking briskly across the bridge and taking his station he keyed a few things on the panel before returning his gaze to Koltarn and simply saying "Ready for orders, sir."

Though Koltarn hated using his words in such a political fashion, he was glad that they had not been in vain. All around him his crew returned to their stations and returned to the still readiness they had been in for several weeks now. "Set course for the Kendra Alpha shipyards," he ordered the helmsman before him. After giving a confirmation to his commander, the officer punched in the necessary commands and the Kri'stak sped off towards the shipyards and towards an unknown fate.

In the hours that passed while the mighty Negh'Var class warship made its way to the Corlidemia sector very little happened. The crew waited at their stations restlessly for the soon to come onslaught, and even Koltarn was unnerved. Despite the fact that their orders included with them a retreat they all still knew the insurmountable odds that they would be facing. They would have to hold the line against an enemy fleet of unknown size, buying the Bajorans enough time to evacuate. Deep down the prospect of what they would be facing started to sink in, but instead of letting those thoughts turn into fear they simply shrugged them off, and awaited in dulled anticipation of their arrival.

While his nerves were alive with anticipation, Koltarn couldn't help but to nod off. His dreams had been haunted by nightmarish visions of what he endured while being captured, and as such it was becoming nearly impossible for him to get any kind of decent sleep. This left him to quietly slip into unconsciousness during moments of stillness. Even though he slipped into a half-asleep daze, he was not free from the terrors of his past. Often, as in this instance, he would find himself back on Carraya, back in the prison camp...

The sun was bright and gleaming above him, but this was not a day that Koltarn wanted to spend outside. Nor did any of the other prisoners, and yet they had been lined up in the blistering sun nonetheless. From the row of prisoners the guards had picked two souls, as they did every ten days or so. Today it was a pair of Klingons, fresh captives that had not spoken a word since being brought to Carraya. They were brave soldiers indeed, bred from the stock that Koltarn could really admire. Even as they were led from the group they were silent. When their hands were bound to a metallic loop set into the wall they still remained silent. Though they had not been imprisoned for long they still had to have known that their lives were about to be ended, and that it was all to be billed as a grand show for the guards and these brave souls' fellow prisoners.

Flashing a sadistic grin, the Romulan commander ordered his two best marksmen to take point. Without hesitation, they raised their disruptor rifles and carefully aimed for the two Klingons' chests. There was a pause, as if the guards wanted to get one final reaction from the men they were about to gun down. Then all at once the triggers were pulled, a flash of green light exploded from the guns, made contact with the two men, and they slumped against the concrete wall.

As Koltarn and the other prisoners watched on they could do nothing but hold a solemn presence. While he watched on, Koltarn could only hope that the pain of the blasts would quickly send their bodies into shock as they were slowly being vaporized. It was a horrible way to die, and a painful one at that. Despite what surely was excruciating pain the two fallen soldiers refused to give even a whimper of discomfort. Their blood began to seep through the tattered uniforms they still proudly wore, and their eyes stayed forward, locked onto the poor souls that would have to endure a captive fate.

Looking upon the noble souls Koltarn grew to become more than an admirer of their bravery, he became inspired. In gunning down prisoners at will the Romulans hoped that those that were forced to watch would grow to fear their captors, and would ultimately capitulate to the commander's demands. Whenever there was an execution however the opposite happened. Instead of being cowered, they were energized. So far all the Romulans had done by this play was create martyrs; and in times of war there is nothing more inspiring than a martyr. By killing their fellow brothers and sisters of war all that was done was to solidify the Alliance prisoners hatred of Romulans, and their desire to see them destroyed once and for all.

Turning away from the gruesome sight of the Klingons' death Koltarn found the Romulan commander to be looking back at him. The Romulan was also saying something, but he couldn't quite make it out. Squinting his eyes in the bright midday sun, he saw that what was being mouthed was his name...

"Koltarn. Commander Koltarn, sir."

As the Klingon soldier stumbled back into consciousness he heard his first officer calling his name, trying to rouse him from the slumber he had fallen into. Becoming aware of what had happened Koltarn sat up in his chair and made an attempt to pretend that he had not fallen asleep while on duty. "What is it, Dral'k?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Sir, we have arrived at the Kendra Alpha shipyards," Dral'k replied as he gestured towards the view screen.

Quickly pulling himself up Koltarn took a few steps forward, focusing intently on the image before him. The Kendra Alpha shipyards were truly an architectural marvel, and undoubtedly the greatest achievement by the Bajorans in the entire two centuries since they had achieved space travel. At any given time it could crew up to two hundred thousand troops and service nearly two dozen vessels simultaneously. Throughout the course of both the war with the Terrans and the one with the Romulans it had acted as a staging base for several campaigns, including the Proxima campaign which had virtually ended the Terran insurgency against the Alliance. Truly this installation had played a vital role in all of the Alliance's key victories, and now they were to just stand by and watch it be turned into a dust field.

"Sir, we are receiving a hail from the shipyards," a young officer said from behind Koltarn.

"Patch it through lieutenant," he said, only vaguely paying attention to what was happening around him.

"Commander Koltarn, this is General Darzyk." With these words the image of the grand shipyards faded on the view screen and was replaced by the image of a steely looking Bajoran.

"Is there something I can do for you general?" Koltarn asked in a harsher tone than should have been used. It didn't matter to the Klingon though if he stepped on this Bajoran's toes. The Kri'stak was here for a very specific purpose, and neither he nor his crew had the time to waste on any frivolous matter that Darzyk might have come up with.

Koltarn's curt tone offended Darzyk, who saw himself as king of his particular mountain, but he wasn't about to let the offense stand in the way of the job that had to be done. Too much was at stake for him as well. "I'm sending over my CAG, Commander Taegris, to discuss the battle strategy which we have devised to hold the Romulans at bay until the evacuation is complete."

There was something in the way that Darzyk had spoken that Koltarn didn't like in the slightest. He couldn't quite put a finger on what that something was, but the tone that the Bajoran general had used made it seem as though Darzyk didn't believe that Koltarn and his fine crew could keep the Romulans occupied alone. By suggesting that he and his CAG already had decided upon everything without even consulting Koltarn only made the Klingon soldier all the more frustrated. "Very well," Koltarn crisply said before giving his comms officer the signal to close the channel.

In the wake of Koltarn's brief exchange with the shipyard's general, Dral'k held the same sentiment as his commander, but he was less reluctant to hold his tongue about it. "Arrogant pa'tahq," was all he said though with a shake of his head.

Hearing his first officer's words Koltarn felt like giving a small laugh, but considering how serious the circumstances were he decided to forgo it. "Dral'k, I'll be in the war room. When Taegris beams aboard then escort him there."

"Yes sir," Dral'k replied with a hint of weariness. This was not a task he accepted with open arms. As a soldier during war time he was best in the throes of battle, not diplomacy. Still, he knew that such things regrettably had to be done.

Once Dral'k had left to fetch the Bajoran CAG, Koltarn made his way across the bridge and through the war room's doors. Inside he felt the chance to simply exhale all of the emotions that had been building up inside of him since learning of their orders. In the presence of his subordinates, whether they were someone he respected as much as Dral'k or not, he felt as though he needed to project a calm and level manner; one which would help to keep the crew's morale up and their focus on the battles ahead, not inside. This need sometimes became an unwelcome burden on him, and it was only in these few moments of solitude where he felt he could fully relax and consider everything. Solitude for him was fleeting though, and just as he was beginning to let himself ease then the Klingon first officer returned, followed by a brash looking Bajoran.

"You must be Commander Taegris," Koltarn said the moment his eyes fell upon the Bajoran soldier. At the mention of his name Taegris looked back at the Klingon commander and the two stared at each other for a moment in cold silence, sizing the other up, before Koltarn broke to address his first officer. "Dral'k, I want you to perform a battle readiness drill and make sure everything is ready for when the Romulans arrive."

"Aye sir," Dral'k said followed by a crisp salute. Turning on his heels and exiting the room he was glad to get away from the politics of war and the situation that was undoubtedly about to arise.

The moment the room's door slid shut behind Dral'k and left the pair to themselves then Koltarn outstretched his arm. "Have a seat Taegris, and tell me all about this brilliant plan you and the general have come up with," the Klingon commander said with obvious sarcasm.

Forgoing the invitation, Taegris decided to simply flat out speak. "Before anything else is said, you should know that this was not my idea," came the Bajoran's words in a tone that hinted irritation.

"Now, not only are us Klingons not good enough fodder to help plan how to defend this installation, but also to not even be told of what those plans are?"

Sensing how short Koltarn's fuse was Taegris decided to quickly explain himself. "That is not at all what I meant. In fact it's the opposite." Pausing for a moment to let both himself and the Klingon before him calm down he added, "If it were up to me we wouldn't even be abandoning the shipyards, let alone planning a retreat without hearing from everyone who is expected to die while Darzyk and the others turn tail and run."

Hearing this from the Bajoran CAG, Koltarn's opinion of him quickly began to change. In the rush of getting here as quickly as possible Koltarn had been unable to pull up the war records of anyone he might have to die alongside. With nothing to go on, he had assumed that everyone in charge would throw their feelings behind those that wished to flee. He was surprised by the attitude of Taegris; pleasantly surprised in fact.

"I am just a dog of this war. A role I'm sure you can sympathize with, Commander Koltarn. And as a dog I do as I'm told." There was something in the Bajoran's voice that sounded like sadness, or maybe desperation. Whatever the feeling was it surely was something that all Alliance soldiers could sympathize with in these endless blood soaked days. "If I may though," he said as he gestured to the tactical screen that was placed on the wall behind him.

The more that Koltarn heard from this Bajoran soldier then the more he indeed sympathized with him. Quickly, he hoped that this initial impression would stand the test of battle as he gave a nod for the man to continue.

Moving to the table, Taegris glanced over the small control panel for the screen before tapping the needed buttons to bring up a map of Kendra Alpha and the surrounding space. "Here are the shipyards," Taegris said, pointing to an obvious cluster of beige structures in the center of the screen. "And here is where we expect the Romulans to deploy their forces." Several green dots appeared in front and to the left of the structures with a few more taps to the control panel.

Taking a step forward and absorbing everything in thus far Koltarn couldn't help but to rethink something that Taegris had just said. This map showed where the Romulans were _expected_ to be deployed. In war, very little went by the book. More often than not the ensuing chaos was about as predictable as a K'tarian game of Whisk. Before scrutinizing anything further, Koltarn decided it best to simply hear the entire plan.

"Now, we only have five squadrons of Assault class vessels to help the Kri'stak defend the station."

This revelation caught Koltarn off guard. "Only five squadrons? What about the vessels that are regularly stationed in this sector for patrol?" he couldn't help but blurt out as he turned around to face Taegris.

"The only other vessels here were ones that were under repairs. Those vessels were sent out of harm's way to the Dotalar III shipyards the moment we picked up that the Romulans were on their way."

When this news came to Koltarn he didn't quite know how to take it. Part of him was expecting the sector patrol to provide at least some back up for the Kri'stak, yet he knew it wouldn't be so easy. Despite the lack of help from the patrol, the situation had changed very little. The Kri'stak would have to face the Romulan onslaught alone. Although they would have the support from five squadrons of Assault vessels, Koltarn knew that in the end these noble vessels would be of little help. They were little more then kamikaze fighters, and as such made for easy targets. Still, it was better to have them fighting alongside the Kri'stak then for the mighty Klingon vessel to be fighting alone.

"If the Kri'stak can be positioned here," Taegris said as he tapped a button and a new gray dot appeared on the screen "then it should serve well for protecting the shipyards themselves."

Noticing where the Bajoran commander had decided to place his mighty warship Koltarn suddenly felt a little distressed about the plan. "But the Kri'stak is positioned directly in front of Kendra Alpha, in plain view, right where the Romulans surely are expecting it to be."

"Precisely," Taegris said with a slight smile. Seeing confusion grace Koltarn's face at these words he decided that a full explanation of the plan was in order. "In placing the Kri'stak here, right in plain view where it's expected to be, then we will draw the Romulans full attention to it, and away from anything else."

"And the Assault vessels?" Koltarn asked as he studied the map and tried to picture the Bajoran plan in detail.

"They will be placed here," Taegris said as he keyed up another sequence and a series of small dots appeared near a moon, "just behind the moon of Corlidemia IV."

"Then when the Romulan fleet moves in to take out the Kri'stak and Kendra Alpha, the Assault vessels will come out of the moon's shadow and strike at the fleet's rear." Koltarn said, half in his own thought and half finishing Taegris' thought.

"Exactly," the Bajoran CAG replied, letting his slight smile grow as he spoke. "The Romulans will be completely caught off guard, giving those on the station enough time to evacuate."

It was a bold plan, Koltarn had to admit that. Not often did a strategy of this nature come from anyone outside of Klingon ranks, and for that the Bajoran should have been congratulated. Despite how inspiring the tactic might be though, it still didn't sit well with the stolid warrior. "No," he muttered at first, not aware that he was speaking out loud. "This won't work at all."

Being swept up in thoughts of how the plan was to play out, Taegris almost missed the comments made by Koltarn. Hearing them however, did nothing but knock him down from his envisioned pedestal to a confused state upon the ground. "What do you mean, it won't work?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"Well, it's just a little too textbook in my opinion." Koltarn said flatly, keeping his gaze on the map and its layout of the surrounding space.

"Go on," Taegris urged.

"I mean..." For a moment Koltarn was unsure how exactly he should explain things to the Bajoran soldier. It was one thing to see something and reason to yourself about it, entirely another to put words to that reason and explain it to someone else. Still, knowing the circumstances, he gave it an effort. "Corlidemia IV is the closest planet to Kendra Alpha," Koltarn began.

"Yes, it is," the Bajoran said, trying to follow along.

"So it would make for the logical choice to hide any reinforcements from the Romulan sensors when they drop out of warp. That is why you can't place your vessels there."

"The moon of Corlidemia IV is the closet point to Kendra Alpha that isn't out in the open. That makes it the best shot for a quick response, and quick support, to come from our squadrons to aid the Kri'stak." Taegris furthered, trying to explain the reasoning for placing the vessels there.

Turning away from the map Koltarn took in the sight of the Bajoran soldier and exhaled some stale air. From the expression on Taegris' face the Klingon knew that so far the Bajoran did not understand what he was trying to say. "We have been at war with the Romulans for a decade now. In that time we have engaged them in countless battles and employed every conventional strategy conceived. And what do we have to show for it? Nothing but casualties, lost worlds, and destroyed vessels. If we are to defeat the Romulans today, or ever once and for all, then it is time to throw the book away."

Taking a step forward and looking at the map for himself a moment, Taegris considered Koltarn's words. While the plan that had been decided upon by Darzyk was not inspired, he had hardly had thought of it as conventional. Rubbing his chin for a moment Taegris considered the fact that perhaps he had been stuck in that backwater prison, and away from the field of battle, for far too long. "Do you have something in mind then?" he asked Koltarn, deciding that the Klingon's words were more than worth consideration.

Something in mind? For some reason the question caused the Klingon soldier to stare blankly at his Bajoran comrade for a moment. Being in a position of command, Koltarn was not completely a stranger to having to decide upon tactics for battle. Throughout the course of the war he had been forced to do this several times, sometimes even in the heat of battle. Considering the statement he had just given to Taegris the moment before he should have expected that he would need to pull a plan out of his sleeve. Yet still, for some reason, he hesitated.

In the next moment Koltarn found himself turned back towards the tactical map, staring intently on the plan laid out by the Bajoran CAG. The protection of the Kendra Alpha shipyards was crucial, and Koltarn knew this fact very well. Knowing how vital it was that those aboard the shipyards were given the time to flee put all the more pressure on him to come up with a plan of brilliance. Slowly, his hand drifted across the layout, searching for something indescribable. Seemingly by random it stopped, and as Koltarn looked at where his hand rested he almost cursed himself as an obvious and daring plan stared back at him. "Of course," he muttered, both to himself and to Taegris, who was standing nearby.

Hearing these brief words come from the Klingon did nothing but pique the Bajoran's curiosity. At first Taegris didn't want to interrupt whatever thoughts might be running through Koltarn's head, and instead he simply looked at where the Klingon had placed his hand. Taegris had hoped that by doing this he would be able to divine the Klingon's plan, but rather then understanding anything more clearly he simply asked "The Corlidemia star?" as his confusion grew even more.

"Yes, of course," Koltarn muttered to himself once again as a plan started to unfold in his mind. It was so obvious to him now, and that he was unable to think of it before made him feel all the more ignorant in this war. He had little time to scold himself though, as Taegris' abrupt question pulled the Klingon warrior out of his own world and back into the one around him.

"Of course what?" Taegris found himself asking as his curiosity mounted and began to turn into angst.

Hearing the tone of the Bajoran's voice made Koltarn all the more aware of what was going on, and of how desperate the situation was about to become. "What is it about this situation that bothers you the most Taegris? What do you want, being a soldier during a time of war, to do here today the most?"

Neither of these questions seemed to make much sense to Taegris, and all he could do was stare back at Koltarn in confusion as the Klingon soldier turned away from the screen and faced him once more.

"The Romulans," Koltarn started, hoping to somehow jog Taegris' mind and lead him to the point that Koltarn himself had realized moments ago. When it became apparent that the Bajoran was still not following, Koltarn decided to go one step further. "The worst part about all of this is that we have to retreat, knowing that the Romulans here today will live on to come at us again. That we, as honorable men and soldiers, have to allow this. For Klingons, it is one of the worst things we might have to endure. I imagine that sentiment is not far from your mind as well, Taegris."

While he might not have had a code of honor to uphold as strongly as any Klingon soldier, the thought of retreat was no less welcoming to Taegris. He had accepted this sin against him as simply another cost of war, but something about Koltarn's words suddenly sparked hope in the Bajoran soldier. "Go on," Taegris said, staring intently at the Klingon before him.

"This war has gone on far too long for us soldiers to allow the line to fall back any further. It's time we take a stand, my brother in arms. And we are going to do it by destroying that Romulan fleet right here today."

"But how?" Taegris suddenly blurted out. "Between your warship and my squadrons we don't have nearly the firepower to contend with the sizable fleet the Romulans have sent." Pausing for a moment Taegris tried to emphasize this point before adding another point. "Even if we could stand a chance, we have a duty to Darzyk, to the Alliance, to ensure that Kendra Alpha does not fall into Romulan hands. If we change our resolve and our focus against the Romulans then we will be unable to focus on our true goal here."

With a slight smirk the stolid Klingon simply said "We can do both, ensure Kendra Alpha's destruction and the destruction of the Romulan fleet."

"How?" the Bajoran soldier couldn't help but to ask with slight desperation as he still didn't understand where Koltarn was going with all of this

Tapping on the screen as his hand still rested on the image of the Corlidemia star Koltarn asked "Kendra Alpha has a supply of Tri-Cobalt warheads, correct?"

"Correct, but why do you..." Suddenly Taegris' mind found itself pulling together the pieces that Koltarn had laid out. In mid-sentence it had begun to sink in, and he couldn't help but to let the situation wash over him as it all came together.

"We use the warheads and detonate them inside of the Corlidemia star, vaporizing both the shipyards and the Romulan fleet in the process." For some reason Koltarn felt the need to voice this aloud, as though by doing so made the plan real and tangible; but more importantly, possible.

"It's a risky plan," Taegris admitted as the full scope of Koltarn's idea hit him.

"Nothing worth doing is ever without risk," Koltarn countered. "Besides, it's the risky plans that are remembered, that are sung about in glorious song." With this statement an odd smile found itself on the Klingon's face. The idea of battle had not brought this kind of excitement to him in a long while, and as he thought about the looming conflict and the daring plan he would bring down upon the Romulans he felt something else that he had not felt since before his capture; he felt whole.

"How do you suggest we deliver the warheads to the star?" came the Bajoran's question as his voice broke into Koltarn's otherwise blissful moment.

"Well," Koltarn started as he gave the matter some thought, "can you rig one of the Assault vessels to fly by remote?"

"Under different circumstances, probably. Unfortunately, most of the station's equipment was already shipped to Dotalar III along with the vessels that were under repairs."

"Hm," was all Koltarn could think to say as he placed his free hand on his chin and tried to come up with a different way to deliver the weapon. "If we can't fly a ship in by remote, then that only means..."

"That someone will have to fly into the star manually." Taegris said, interrupting the Klingon's words and thoughts. Both soldiers knew what this meant, and they both looked at each other with grim realization at what that statement meant. Someone was going to have to make the ultimate sacrifice for the Alliance, and for the war. Koltarn began to open his mouth to say something, but Taegris already knew what the Klingon was about to say. "I will fly the vessel carrying the warheads." he said, trying his best to mask any emotions he had at the moment.

"I should be the one to do it," Koltarn couldn't help but to say to the honorable Bajoran man before him. "It's my plan," he added, trying to sound as selfless as he could. In reality Koltarn was not completely over the lingering suffering of his capture by the Romulans those many months ago. Though he would never admit it, part of him wanted to die, knowing that death would be the only way to bring solace to his restless soul. In disgust this part only made him feel even more worthless of the uniform he wore, but if he could be given the chance to die in honor for the good of his people then just maybe the daily sin of fear that he couldn't help but to commit would be forgiven, and his soul would be pardoned into Sto-Vo-Kor.

"No commander, your place is here. Your place is leading the charge, and holding back the Romulan line until it is my time to complete the mission." Pausing for a moment and seeing nothing of optimism in the Klingon face before him, Taegris couldn't help but to try and add some hope. "Besides, I know the systems of an Assault class vessel far better than you. I can set course and still manage to hit the eject button, get picked up, and warp out of the system before everything hits."

Placing a hand on the Bajoran's shoulder Koltarn couldn't help but to admire the man's courage and resolve. A thousand factors were stacked against Taegris' survival, and yet he didn't waver in the slightest. Truly he had the heart of a Klingon beating in his chest, and in that moment Koltarn felt honored for knowing him.

"I must be getting back aboard station," the Bajoran CAG said with a hint of despair in his voice as he nervously rubbed his hands together. "I have to make sure my pilots are ready, and that the warheads are properly fitted to my fighter." Suddenly something came to him and he almost voiced it, but ultimately he decided that where those fighters were placed was immaterial now, so long as they fought with honor and gave him the chance to wipe the smug look from each Romulan face that dared step into the Corlidemia sector on this day.

Looking across the room at someone who Koltarn felt so suddenly able to empathize with, he knew that he couldn't just leave Taegris at that. If the Bajoran was to sacrifice himself on this day then Koltarn knew that he would not be able to rest unless he made sure that the Bajoran did not go out so quietly. "Taegris,' the Klingon commander suddenly said, catching the Bajoran CAG's attention. "Stay for a moment. I have something I would like to give you."

With a confused look on his face, Taegris stepped back inside of the room and leaned against a nearby chair. Quickly Koltarn had exited the room, but as the stalwart Klingon returned Taegris almost smiled at what was in the Klingon's hand.

"You must have a drink of bloodwine." Koltarn said as slowly poured some of the alcoholic drink into two glasses. "Vintage '23, excellent year for bloodwine."

"Surely then it would be an ill-use of the stuff to waste it on a tongue such as mine," Taegris replied.

"I was saving this particular bottle for a special occasion, and what better occasion then to toast such a fine warrior? A warrior deserving of such a pleasure as this bloodwine," Koltarn said, handing a glass to Taegris.

Taking the glass and slowly sipping the drink both men found themselves suddenly in an awkward place. In the throes of war and death and conflict there were so few chances to enjoy the finer points of living. Ironically, it was those points that they were fighting and dying to protect.

Leaving a small amount of wine in his glass, Koltarn decided it best to raise it in a toast. Deep down he wanted to toast the chance that he was finally given to overcome his personal demons and to strike back at the Romulans, but he knew that in this moment something more was needed. "To those brave enough to hold back the threat of the twilight," he found himself quickly and simply saying. The action was quickly followed by a reply of the same from Taegris, before the two soldiers touched their glasses together and finished the last off the stuff.

Standing there and staring down into his now empty glass Taegris couldn't help but to run through a checklist of things that needed to be done, and how there was nothing now holding him still there. Before he tore himself from the room there was still one lingering thought that Taegris simply felt he couldn't remain silent about. "Koltarn," he carefully started, moistening his lips before continuing on. "Soldier to soldier, do you think this war will ever really end? Hasn't enough already been lost to cover ten lifetimes throughout the course of this war? And yet, here we continue to fight. For what, I'm not even sure anymore."

At this point Koltarn simply rested a hand on Taegris' shoulder and stared back at the Bajoran soul. "This war shall end my weary brother in arms, and it shall end with us as victorious. True as it may be that the light has grown dim over the past few years, believe me when I say it is still waiting for us at the end of the tunnel. How do I know this? Because we are the soldiers of fortune and of honor, and if honor cannot win on this battlefield on this day then surely our unceasing resolve will be enough to beat the drums of war until eventually the cowardice of the Romulans gives way so that we may prevail."

Taegris had never been fond of the wartime speeches dolled out by his superiors. Beneath the words he had always felt that politics and egos veiled what was truly going on. For some reason in this instant he couldn't help but to believe Koltarn, and to believe in the Klingon's words. Perhaps it was because he knew this Klingon, knew the man's history and his failings, and in the end knew this man to be genuine. Surely Koltarn had not been a soldier that had watched the war unfold from a plush office on his home world. This was a man who had been in the thick of it since day one, and would continue to do so until either he or the Romulans were defeated once and for all. This fact brought an odd sincerity to his words, a sincerity that Taegris not only acknowledged but respected as well. "Take care of my pilots," Taegris said with finality and a smile as he stepped out of the room, ready to face his fate.

For a moment Koltarn had to just stand there in awe of his own words. Being far out of the grasp of political aspirations had given Koltarn the ability to be more at ease with his men. The downside had always been a lacking when it came to words of motivation. In this case though even he was impressed, and as he took his turn to leave he carried with himself a renewed sense of strength that would last him throughout the ensuing conflict.

There was a very odd sense in the air as Koltarn sat waiting for fate's arrival. After Taegris had left the Kri'stak then Koltarn had seen fit to inform the crew of the plan he and the Bajoran CAG had decided upon. He had thought the news of the Romulans' imminent destruction would excite the crew and bring a new energy as they prepared for battle. For some reason, this had not been the case. Instead each soldier in Koltarn's company had kept a quiet reserve about themselves. The only thing that Koltarn could think to explain this reaction was focus. It was widely known throughout the galaxy that Klingons were a warrior race, but what wasn't so commonly known was that they were focused as well. Blind passion rarely came from a Klingon soldier. Instead Klingons simply turned all of their attention and focus onto the battle at hand.

For the past hour every conceivable battle drill and combat simulation had been gone over. They were ready, but for what none of them were certain. When this battle, and indeed the entire war were taken into consideration, was any of it really justified? As his crew kept busy around him Koltarn had remained in his command chair silently pondering Taegris' question. War never made sense he supposed, and the only reason he could give to their fighting was survival. But when did simply surviving satisfy the unceasing hunger of war? He was a soldier, and as such hardly bred for debates of the nature. Still, in the calm moments before the storm hit he couldn't help but to consider such notions; if even for just that moment.

"Sir we are picking up several ships dropping out of warp," suddenly came from the sensor station, breaking through the silence and the nervous calm that had set into the Kri'stak's bridge.

Gripping the arms of his chair Koltarn thought to himself about how the true battle was about to begin. "On screen, lieutenant."

With a tap and a slight beep an image appeared on the screen. None of those present could have prepared themselves for what was then shown, and as the full scope of what they were about to face hit them then suddenly each soldier felt their own demise was very near.

"That's no task force," Koltarn said in a shushed awe as he rose from his chair and took a step forward, never letting his gaze wander away from the view screen. "Someone was wrong, very wrong indeed," he furthered as he saw not a handful of ships, but a fleet numbering close to a hundred strong. The Romulans had not come to simply fight them, but to obliterate them and wipe clean the sector of their very existence. There was no way that any of them would live to see the day's end, Koltarn felt suddenly sure of this. If today was his day to die though, then there was only one way to face that death. "Open fire!" came his words with a coldness that seemed to embody the whole of the situation.

A moment after the order had been given, stillness was still firmly wrapped around the vessels and the surrounding space. The sheer size of the Romulan fleet had stunned the Klingon crew, and for a moment no one was able to move. Sensing this, Koltarn turned away from the screen to say something more to his tactical officer, but before he managed to get a single word out Gorz'k was able to slip back into reality and he pressed a button on the console before him, letting forth the firepower to ignite the battle ahead.

From the Romulan's perspective, or indeed from any outsider's perspective, the Kri'stak's actions were nothing more than sheer madness. Surely every Klingon aboard the mighty vessel knew it was suicide to take on that many enemy vessels, but knowing they were Klingons meant that such things simply didn't matter to them. While not suicidal by nature, every Klingon was born with such a deep and passionate honor code that reveled in moments like this. Battle was a part of them from day one, and very rarely did that part ever fade.

When the Kri'stak did open fire it did so with a blindness not often used in war. Whether by design or pure accident, Gorz'k had begun unloading the Negh'Var class vessel's payload in the direction of the Romulan fleet, but without any clear target. Under different circumstances this attack pattern would have done nothing but waste ammunition as the weapon's fire was sent spiraling past the Romulan fleet, leaving them unscathed. This instance was different however. With as many vessels as the Romulans had, and as closely packed as those vessels were, then the Kri'stak's random firing was able to strike at several enemy targets; scraping some while disabling others.

As in the Klingon's case only moments before, the Romulans sat there without returning fire for several moments. Assessing the situation, they couldn't believe the fact that only one vessel was defending the crucial Alliance shipyards, nor could they believe the audacity of the Klingon vessel as it opened fire upon them. It took a moment for both of these facts to sink in, but when they did the Romulans began an onslaught of their own. From Koltarn's mind only a few moments ago, the battle had now begun.

Making his way back to his chair as the ship around him violently shook with weapon impacts, Koltarn simply took in the rush of emotions his crew was now letting out. With a fleet of Romulan ships before him, and a Bajoran station behind him, Koltarn knew that this battle would not last very long. Especially if the Kri'stak simply stood still and took the brunt of the Romulan onslaught. Checking on a small side screen Koltarn made a quick note of the enemy layout, scanning for a weakness. When he found one he knew that the moment to take his strategy to the next phase was at hand. "Helm, take us about to coordinates four-five-nine," Koltarn shouted as something behind him exploded.

"Aye sir, coordinates four-five-nine," the young officer quickly replied.

With a violent shake the mighty Kri'stak began to move away from its entrenched position in front of the Kendra Alpha shipyards. Moving off was a gamble, leaving the shipyards themselves vulnerable and wide open to Romulan attack, but if Koltarn had learned anything about Romulans over the course of the war it was that they were far too cruel to leave any survivors to escape and come at them again later. Flying head on towards the Romulan fleet Koltarn couldn't help but smile slightly as the enemy vessels veered in response to the Kri'stak's maneuvers, exactly like Koltarn wanted them to do.

Several of the large Romulan D'Deridex class warbirds were the first to open fire as they readjusted their attitude to match that of the Klingon warship. Unwavering in its approach, the Klingon vessel simply struck back with everything it had. A volley of torpedoes tore through the lead warbird, turning its defenses instantly useless as it teetered into oblivion. Another Romulan vessel, a cruiser, was torn in half as several phaser blasts ripped through the ablative armor the Romulans had employed in its construction.

Playing out on the screen before him, Koltarn could almost feel the epic sense of it all. One ship, one mighty ship with a fine crew, staring so defiantly back into a sea of enemies. Surely the battle around him would one day be passed down to younger generations in song, and Koltarn knew that he would not simply let that song end on a somber note. Seeing that the Romulan's full attention was directed upon him and his vessel Koltarn signaled his comms officer to order that phase two of his plan commence.

The direction from which the Kri'stak approached had not been chosen at random. Since the Romulan fleet had turned around to face the Klingon threat, they had left their backsides facing the Corlidemia star. While this action would be crucial to the overall success of Koltarn's plan, in this moment something much more short term was at hand.

Unable to get a sensor reading of what was behind them due to interference from solar radiation, and completely blinded to the area due to their focus on the Klingon warship, the Romulan fleet was completely caught off guard as five squadrons of Assault vessels emerged from the sun's glare and came down upon them. Diving around and in between the Romulan formations let them strike at the heart of the enemy fleet without any retaliation.

The attack from where the Romulans had least suspected, from enemies they had been completely oblivious to, left the Romulan vessels scrambling. This was exactly how Koltarn had planned it. From the early Intel about the approaching enemy fleet Koltarn known that any sort of forceful attack had little chance for success. When the Romulans had actually arrived and he had understood the magnitude of the situation, then his plan had made all the more sense. Those aboard the shipyards needed time, and that time wouldn't be given to them if the Klingon vessel and its Bajoran support craft had been obliterated within the opening moments of the battle. Instead of simply fighting the Romulans with muscle, Koltarn knew that some tact was also in order for their mission to be a success. Bringing in the Assault vessels at this moment would ensure that success.

Instead of being a unified force against either to Klingon ship or the Bajoran station, the Romulans were scattered and confused. The moment the Assault vessels had opened fire and the Romulans realized what was going on then they had scrambled to swat the pesky ships out of the starry sky. Some of the Romulan centurions had remained focused on the Kri'stak and its destruction, while others had decided to try in vain to remove the new threat. Chaos and confusion thrived in this newly created atmosphere, and Koltarn was fully prepared to take advantage of the Romulans' panic.

"Gorz'k, target the warbird at coordinates twenty-seven alpha," Koltarn said as he saw only one remaining roadblock between him and destiny.

Without fear or hesitation, the Klingon soldier obeyed his commander's orders. Targeting an exposed nacelle, the tactical officer sliced it in two with a precision phaser blast, before sending a wave of torpedoes at the same coordinates. Upon impact the nacelle exploded and turned instantly into shrapnel. A chain reaction started at the loss of this nacelle, and quickly the entire vessel was engulfed in flames.

Twisting out of the Kri'stak's path, the Romulan warbird fell out of view. With the mighty Romulan vessel no longer before them, a gap in the enemy lines had opened up. Between the Bajoran fighter maneuvers and the scrambling of the Romulan ships a wide division had formed, leaving the innumerable Romulan fleet split in two.

Koltarn saw this instantly on the screen, and he almost marveled out how the battle was turning out. It was almost as if he were playing hero in some grand fictional epic. Before becoming too lost in the notion he shrugged it completely off. The battle around him was real, deadly real in fact, and the story of what was going on would only be told if he saw his mission through to the very end.

Though the Romulans were divided, their determination was as singular as ever. The fact that such a resistance was being mounted against them seemed to defy the laws of the universe. Laws aside, they knew that the mighty Klingon vessel was far from invincible. Several of the Romulan capital ships concentrated their efforts onto the Kri'stak, hoping to bring a swift end to the Klingon defiance.

Violently the mighty vessel shook around the Klingon warriors. Upon the view screen the image of the Romulan fleet grew ever larger as they approached. Rising from his chair, Koltarn took a step forward and became absorbed in the chaos he witnessed. Already a sizable Romulan loss had mounted, and from what he could tell only a few of the Bajoran Assault vessels had been obliterated. Where Taegris had recruited those pilots Koltarn hadn't a clue, but what he could tell was that they were surely among the best Bajoran society had to offer. Flying in tight to the Romulan vessels made them nearly impossible to target. Whatever fighters the Romulans had brought must have been quickly destroyed by the Bajorans; for Koltarn saw none. Nothing but glorious battle could be seen on the Kri'stak's view screen, and Koltarn loved every moment of it.

Though the Kri'stak was being blown away piece by piece, none of the Klingons paid any heed. Each one of them remained focused on their mission, and become oblivious to everything else. While he was doing nothing but standing there, Koltarn became the most focused of any aboard. Above him a whine came from the ceiling plating, yet he didn't show a sign of noticing.

Suddenly something hit Koltarn and he tumbled to the ground. Caught up in the heat of battle, it took him a moment to realize what had just happened. On top of him lay his first officer Dral'k, who looked over his commander for any sign of injury. Standing back up and dusting themselves off both men saw how the bulkhead had collapsed, and fallen right where Koltarn had stood moments ago. Dral'k had saved his life, but before Koltarn could thank the man he grimly noticed that the act had not been completely victimless, as a chunk of shrapnel was seen sticking out of the helmsman's neck.

Reacting quickly and with all of his training backing him, Dral'k pushed the slumped body aside and took a seat at the helm station. "What are our orders, sir?" he shouted as he settled into the panel and straightened their course.

For a moment Koltarn could think of no response. Everything had happened so quickly that he had to get his bearings once again. Staring ahead he saw from the corner of his eye the young Klingon's body, before focusing on his first officer who was now staring back at him. "If we are to die today, then let it be a glorious death!" he shouted before he gestured with his hand to increase speed and charge the heart of the Romulan fleet.

As the Kri'stak broke what was once the Romulan front line, the reality of the situation finally set in. All around the Klingon warship were the remains of Romulans and the vessels they had once commanded, and before them lay even more Romulans that were just moments away from death. In the mix and jumble of the Romulan fleet several small explosions could be seen. Koltarn could not tell whether they were the final salutes of the Bajoran pilots, or merely weapons fire that flooded the area. It didn't really matter to Koltarn what the explosions signified. He knew that it was time to end this battle, for better or for worse.

No longer with their Klingon foe placed before them, the Romulan vessels were forced to turn inward to try and stop the still threatening foe. Only one word had symbolized everything thus far, and that word and its meaning suddenly became all the more intensified. Chaos. Nothing but pure chaos consumed the battlefield as the Romulans threw everything they had in a frantic attempt to defeat the Kri'stak and its few remaining Bajoran allies. The Romulans became so frantic and desperate to destroy the Klingon vessel that they let their weapons lock falter, which only resulted in numerous friendly fire impacts.

Truly a battle of this intensity and this passion was what all Klingons dreamed to take part in upon entering armed service. Koltarn himself had seen both the highs and lows that war had to offer, yet in this moment he felt as inexperienced as a fresh recruit. One could live an entire lifetime and not experience the type of action that he was so absorbed in, and standing there Koltarn could do nothing but marvel at it.

With the Romulans now firing upon each other, whether by mistake or not, Koltarn suddenly found himself believing that he might live to see another day. At the battle's start the odds had been so stacked against him and his crew that it was inconceivable that they should survive. What the odds hadn't accounted for however was the strength and resolve that each member of his crew had in abundance. It was these qualities that Koltarn knew would help them to win this long and bloody war. He was certain of it.

Heavily entrenched within the Romulan lines, the Kri'stak continued to fire its entire payload. A handful of torpedoes struck a Romulan frigate, blasting it into debris. Blind shots came from the Klingon's phaser array, only to strike a cruiser's nacelle and causing a reaction that quickly vaporized the ship. All around the Kri'stak souls were being winked out of existence. Neither the death toll nor its own mounting damage phased the mighty ship in the slightest, as it simply remained focused on its objective to hold back the onslaught.

The whole scene became a blur of panic, of death, of killing, of merely fighting for one's own survival. Amidst this chaos concepts like headcounts and time itself became insignificant and were quickly lost. No one had a clue as to how long the battle had been going on, and it wasn't until a few words rose above the chaos then Koltarn or anyone else have a thought outside of the fierce battle they were engaged in.

"Sir, we are picking up a hail," came a shout from the comms officer.

Hearing this Koltarn wasn't quite sure who would be sending them a message. Shaking off the confusion, he suddenly remembered that indeed there was a third part to his plan. "Put it through, soldier!"

"Koltarn, this is Taegris," the Bajoran CAG's voice said over a fair amount of static. "The last of the evacuees have departed Kendra Alpha and I am making my approach to the Corlidemia star."

Koltarn couldn't help but to grin at this moment as he realized they had been successful, and that the Romulans, all of the Romulans, were about to face oblivion. "May the Prophets watch over you noble warrior," the Klingon commander said to the truly brave man that was about to sacrifice his own life.

What only Taegris knew in that moment was the look of glee upon his own face. Death was not something easily embraced in Bajoran culture, but for some reason in this instance he felt it was right. If he was to give his life in this war then this was how he wanted to give it. "Qa'pla to us all," he said in response, before muttering an old Bajoran prayer asking the Prophets to watch over his family on Bajor, and to guide his soul into the Celestial Temple.

"Signal the Bajoran Assault vessels to break off attack and head to the rendezvous coordinates." Koltarn ordered, assuming that there were any Bajorans left to hear the order. "Dral'k, get us out of here," he then said to his first officer.

While there were still a number of Romulan vessels around and in front of them, the stolid first officer wasn't about to let them stand in his way. Darting and weaving around both burning hulks and still combative targets, the Kri'stak headed for the other end of the Romulan fleet. Complete in its mission to simply buy time, it turned its entire focus on escape.

Both the Klingons and the Romulans sat unaware of what was happening on the other edge of the system. An explosion appeared on the star's surface as Taegris' vessel collided with it. There was a sort of 'pop' sound as the Tri-Cobalt warheads detonated within the corona. For a moment nothing happened, and the heavens themselves began to wonder if Koltarn's plan and Taegris' subsequent sacrifice had been in vain. Then, without any warning, the star collapsed in on itself before suddenly exploding. The resulting explosion sent a wave rippling across the sector and towards the littered battlefield.

Watching the approaching shockwave Koltarn grew anxious to leave. "What is taking so long?" he shouted to whoever could give him an answer.

"Our port nacelle took a hit sir," Dral'k responded as he tapped in some commands on the navigational console. "We've lost warp capability."

"So this is how it ends then," the Klingon commander simply said as behind him the once gloried Bajoran station was consumed by the shockwave and winked out of existence. Within moments it would hit them as well, and he almost laughed as he watched the Romulans scramble to avoid the shockwave and oblivion itself.

While Koltarn might have forfeited his last ounce of hope, Dral'k was not about to surrender to death so easily. Feverishly tapping in commands with one hand as his other worked on the wiring beneath the panel, he desperately tried to restore any semblance of warp power. Glancing up for a moment he saw the shockwave begin to consume the remnants of the Romulan fleet, and he worked all the more quickly to escape the imminent destruction. Believing that his idea had worked, Dral'k simply drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes before punching a command into the console.

Seconds before the Corlidemia star's final act claimed the Kri'stak as a victim, the mighty Negh'Var class warship's engines lit up, and it sped to safety. Having nothing left to devour into its own selfish greed the shockwave dimmed and faded away. Nothing had been spared in its wake. Not the Bajoran station, and certainly not any ships from the Romulan fleet that had dared entered its space on this day. What remained was a single ship. A ship, nearly destroyed with half its crew dead, and a story about how the Romulan's had threatened to push the Alliance into falling back, and of how that push had failed.


	20. Between Ally and Enemy

_Chapter Twenty: Between Ally and Enemy_

Mission  
B'elanna's reunion with her close friend Worf is shattered when he comes onboard with news about an old friend of hers. Worse yet are his orders, as he asks her to try and stop the destruction of the Alliance from within.  
Mission Date:  
274th day in the 2369th of Molar

For a second she stopped, turning her attention onto the airlock before her. Despite this action everything remained still. Her excitement did not subside by this lack of activity, and instead she merely let out a sigh before resuming her pacing.

Several months had passed since B'elanna had seen her friend Worf in person. The two had managed to keep in contact via subspace during the time, but that hadn't quite been enough for either of them. No matter how much you talked to someone over a distance, it just wasn't as fulfilling as actually being near them. Standing here and knowing that Worf would soon come aboard her vessel and that she would be with him again caused B'elanna to be so excited, that she was unable to hold still for long.

War had a way of straining more than resource stockpiles and soldier headcounts. It was also responsible for pulling people apart. As the leader of the Alliance in a time of war, Worf had been kept very busy. B'elanna herself could understand such a matter, being in charge of the Sol system and one of the Alliance's most valuable assets. Such duties alone made keeping in touch with anyone outside of your chain-of-command trying at best.

The war wasn't going well for the Alliance either. According to a recent status report, the Bajoran Kendra Alpha shipyards were destroyed in a Romulan assault. B'elanna knew Kendra Alpha very well, having used the shipyards as a staging platform before taking the war to the Romulan's doorstep. Those days of commanding and fighting in glorious battle against the Romulans were unfortunately far behind her now.

Sol was deep within Alliance territory, making it far from the frontlines and any concern of the Romulans. Considering how vital the Utopia Planitia shipyards around Mars were, as well as the Jupiter Station research center and the mining in the system's asteroid belt, then for the Romulans to have made no move to invade the system seemed puzzling at best. In reality though, it wasn't so confusing.

Romulans were neither insane, nor stupid. No matter how much she personally hated them, B'elanna had to concede this point. If they didn't have at least some intelligence backing them, they wouldn't have been able to hold the Alliance at bay for so many years. For them to assault the Sol system would take an immense effort on their part, and would certainly be suicidal; despite their cloaking technology. From her own experiences B'elanna knew Romulans didn't like to gamble; especially in war. She was certain that it was this lacking trait that kept them far away from the seat of the former Terran Empire.

Still, the Romulans were hardly in need to pull off any tactics of desperation. Just standing there in wait, B'elanna was sure she could name at least a dozen sectors where the two galactic powers were fighting for dominance as she remained comfortable aboard her own vessel. The front lines were constantly being redrawn as victories were accounted to both sides. Lately though, the tide of war seemed to be favoring their green blooded nemesis. With the loss of Kendra Alpha, the Romulan advancements in the Xenkati sector, as well as the destruction of the Cardassian station of Alderok Nor, the war was seemingly slipping back into their hands.

Pausing again in her movements B'elanna wondered if it was these losses that prompted Worf in coming here to meet with her. Being so far from the war front, she had more or less been given a desk job as she oversaw the Sol operations. It was something she couldn't stand. Being half-Klingon she thrived for battle, and for glory. Ignoring her heritage for a moment, she couldn't help but to feel the need to join her people's fight against the Romulans. Even though she was an Intendant by title, she was a soldier first and foremost. How good of a soldier could she be if she sat back and watched so many die for her freedom while she did nothing?

If the war was really progressing as badly as the reports stated, then they needed her back on the front lines. This thought was hardly ego driven by any accounts. True as the fact might be that she had proven her command abilities invaluable in more than one campaign, she knew that there would come a point when the Alliance would need every soldier it could call upon to stave off the Romulan threat. Ships could be rebuilt. Lost territory could always be reclaimed. Soldiers, however, were not so easily replaced.

While she was half-Klingon, it was her other half that had caused more than one problem to arise during her service in the Alliance. Having to fight a costly war against the Terran Empire had made most of the other races within the Alliance grow to despise the Terran race. Not that they had ever been much liked. Since Terrans had first left their small blue world they had faced each new race with arrogance and hatred. During their empire's initial formation several groups banded together in opposition to their dominance, but a sudden advancement in Terran technology had kept them in power for more than a century. It wasn't until the Cardassians and Klingons had banded together did the decadent Terran civilization finally crumble.

Having a blood tie to such people made many within the Alliance distrust her. B'elanna couldn't fault them entirely for having such attitudes. She herself hated the fact that her mother had allowed herself to be impregnated by a Terran. Forgoing her mother's indiscretions, B'elanna only wished more people would see her Klingon self. That was her dominant self, her true self. Whether or not her being was part Terran didn't diminish her Klingon part in any way, nor did it diminish her loyalty to the Alliance. Still, very few had been accommodating of her because of this part of her heritage.

No doubt it was that heritage, and everyone's mistrust in her because of that heritage, that had caused her current assignment. The Sol system wasn't just far from the war, but far from anyone who might object to having a half-Terran mongrel in power. Also, Worf had felt that her heritage had made B'elanna a fitting choice to oversee the Terran's home sector. He knew that the Terran slaves might give her some empathy and less trouble in their duties to the Alliance. Of course, there was some logic behind her posting. Even B'elanna had to admit to that. It didn't mean she had to be happy about it, however.

Silence made its way into the hallway just outside of the airlock as B'elanna paced in thought. Due to this silence, a sudden rush of noise seemed to be that much louder. A ship had approached B'elanna's flagship, something which she had remained completely unaware of. Being startled back into what was going on around her, she simply refocused her attention onto the airlock as the foreign vessel docked.

Carefully taking in a breath, B'elanna readied herself as her emotions flooded her once more. She knew that in such a position as her title bore, some restraint was needed. Commanding the Sol sector and thousands of soldiers, as well as slaves, wouldn't allow for her to appear too joyous at seeing her friend again. Still, she knew that at least some of her emotions weren't about to be suppressed.

There was a hissing sound for a moment as the airlock pressurized and the final connections between the two vessels were made. Slowly, the doors slid open; almost too slowly for B'elanna's liking. Still, the extra moments gave her the chance to straighten herself and appear as formal as she possibly could, although she knew the gesture would hardly be necessary. In the next moment her waiting finally ended as the door slid open, revealing the powerful and regal leader of the Alliance.

Standing there, the pair just stared at each other, before B'elanna's emotions bubbled over. Rushing up to her friend she just clasped his arms and gave him a wide smile. B'elanna knew that in such a formal setting then an embrace was hardly appropriate, so she managed some restraint as she merely said, "It has been far too long my dear friend."

Worf's attitude was vastly different than B'elanna's. While he too had missed his friend's company, there had been too many things as of late to burden his spirit. Leading an entire race in a war that threatened to bring about that race's end was very difficult for any one man to bear. However, this wasn't the only reason for his apparent lack of excitement.

"Indeed it has been," the stoic Regent simply said in a flat tone as he stared at the woman before him.

Right away B'elanna sensed that something was amiss in her friend. During their relationship's entire history he had never appeared so drained and defeated, save for when Deanna Troi had been murdered. Something had happened to her friend, she knew it. Before she was given the chance to ask Worf about his state, the two were interrupted as a third figure appeared just out of the Regent's shadow.

Noticing that someone was behind Worf, B'elanna craned her neck to try and determine just who the figure was. Looking upon the bulky Klingon soldier that stared back at her with a phaser rifle firmly gripped in his gloved hands, she didn't immediately understand his purpose. Her confusion must have been displayed on her face, as Worf then took it upon himself to explain.

"He's my personal bodyguard, B'elanna," Worf said in response to her confusion.

"Your bodyguard?" Despite her friend's revelation about this man's purpose, B'elanna didn't feel any less confused. "Why do you have a bodyguard Worf?" He had never had one before. Even though he was the most powerful man in the entire Alliance, Worf had never resorted to being guarded. It was something that she knew he strongly detested. As she thought about this, another question rushed into her mind. "Why do you have a bodyguard _here_, aboard my vessel?"

Letting out a sigh, the mighty Klingon knew that the soldier's presence was not something that could so easily be explained. Still, considering how much B'elanna meant to him, he gave it an effort. "A lot has changed, B'elanna. One of those changes is that I have a guard assigned to me at all times."

"But why? What has happened?" B'elanna couldn't help but to blurt out as a thousand questions ran through her mind.

"We need to talk about something," replied Worf in such a dark and stern tone that it caused a chill to run down B'elanna's body. "If you could lead the way to somewhere a little more private," he added as his gaze turned to stare down the hallway.

"Of course," the Intendant replied. Turning away from the airlock, B'elanna tried her best to not let her shaken manner be visible by her companion, though she was certain she had failed. Nothing about Worf's words or the tone behind them did anything to ease her confusion. In fact, she couldn't help but to feel even more distraught as she lead him to her personal quarters.

The journey was a silent one. When she had heard that Worf was coming aboard to see her, B'elanna had hardly expected this to be how that visit would begin. She and Worf had grown very close over the years, due to them growing up together and the fact that they understood each other so well. Their respective postings helped to strengthen that bond, as they felt very isolated in their surroundings, having only each other to turn to. With so much time apart, she had believed Worf would seem a little more excited at seeing her once again. Since he didn't appear to be, that only left B'elanna's mind to harbor that many more questions.

In orbit of Jupiter and deep within Alliance territory had left B'elanna's flagship only requiring a skeleton crew. Her vessel, the Fek'lehr, served as little more than a transport vessel to ferry her between the various planets that made up her small domain. It also gave her a more permanent place that she could think of as home. Still, the Vor'Cha class vessel was being denied its purpose by staying so far out of combat's reach.

With so few soldiers needed to run the vessel, it gave B'elanna and Worf the chance to travel the Fek'lehr's hallways nearly in private, save for the vigilant bodyguard who traveled a half-step behind the pair. In being virtually alone with her friend, B'elanna wanted so much to talk with him. Not so much about the war or about what was going on behind the Alliance's borders, but about what was going on with each of them, and between them. Several times she decided to make an attempt, despite the fact that whatever was said would surely be overheard by Worf's guard. Each time she turned to look at him though her mouth went dry, and she ultimately decided upon remaining silent until they arrived at her quarters.

When the pair of stoic Klingons finally reached B'elanna's quarters, Worf paused for a moment. Waiting for her friend in further confusion, B'elanna watched on as Worf leaned in to whisper something to his guard, who then took a position just to the left of the sliding doors and became almost statuesque as he took to his assigned duty. Once the guard turned his focus off of the pair, Worf merely gestured to B'elanna, before they entered her quarters.

Inside of B'elanna's quarters was a mood that could only be described as Klingon. The light levels were low, bathing the room in a dark red tint. Set onto the far wall hung a gleaming bat'leth, along with a large placard, displaying her family crest. Despite the fact that Klingon tradition and heritage seemed to resonate from everything that adorned the Intendant's quarters, there was one comfort that she had taken to indulge her Terran side. "Please have a seat," she said as she offered her friend a plush chair.

Moving across the room, Worf took in his surroundings before standing next to the chair. Carefully he sat down, only to prick up at the chair's touch. "This chair is too soft," he muttered, mostly to himself. Seeing his friend take the opposite chair and stare back at him, the mighty warrior resolved to ignore the chair's discomforts. Besides, there were far more important things to discuss than upholstery.

Watching her friend take to the soft Terran furnishings, B'elanna couldn't help but to wonder again as to why he seemed so distant. It wasn't like him, especially with her. Part of her hoped that with his bodyguard now out of their presence then he might open up some. Pushing such sentiments to the back of her mind she sat there for a moment looking at her friend, before she realized how poor of a hostess she was being.

"Care for something to drink?" she kindly asked. "Some bloodwine perhaps?"

For a moment Worf appeared to be considering the offer, as he brought his hand to rest on his chin. "No," he replied in a tone that suggested that he hadn't heard B'elanna at all. "Nothing for me."

Here was another cause for concern within the Intendant. Worf was not one to turn down a free drink, especially if that drink was bloodwine. In his refusal of the drink, B'elanna's concern was only further deepened as she realized the seriousness of his mood.

Sitting in the darkened room, nothing happened between the two at first. There was a still sense to the air as Worf tried to decide where to begin. Ultimately, his mind rested on the fact that some of the lies B'elanna had been told as of recent needed to revealed. "Things are not progressing well for the Alliance," came his stern words.

This admission was no surprise to B'elanna, nor did it help in dispelling her misgivings. While her posting was far from any regions of conflict, she was hardly ignorant of what was going on. "I know all about what is happening on the frontlines," she quietly replied, wondering why her friend would make such a comment.

Letting out a sigh, Worf knew that what he was about to say would not be the easiest to understand, yet still it had to be said. "The reports you have been reading are not entirely accurate," he stated with a heavy tone.

With these words, B'elanna's interest suddenly grew. In a time of war then she felt the most vital thing was honesty; honesty in that those that fought and died knew what was really going on around them. For any Alliance soldier to be led astray by their commanding officer disturbed B'elanna. Knowing that she, as a high ranking officer within the Alliance, was not immune to such deception only further shook her beliefs.

"Go on," was the only thing she could think to say in response to her friend's words.

As the mighty Klingon leader watched his friend take in this news, he was not surprised by her reaction. Having to shield anything from those that made up the Alliance, especially the soldiers that defended the Alliance, had not been something he enjoyed. Still, he knew that keeping this secret from them was ultimately in their best interests.

"In regards to the war with the Romulans," Worf started, "everything you have read is truth. What you don't know, is that there is another threat that is lurking in the shadows of this war. It's a threat that could pull the Alliance apart, or at the very least distract us in our resolve against the Romulans long enough for the Star Empire to overtake us."

Taking this in, the half-Klingon Intendant wasn't sure how to react. Moments ago she had been ready to throw all of her beliefs about the war with the Romulans out the window, only to learn that her assumptions had been premature. If it was not the Romulans that he was referring to, then what was it that happened to cause such distress within her friend?

Knowing that he had his companion's full attention, Worf began to tell her about the threat that had been growing under the Alliance's very nose. Just then however, the pair was interrupted as someone entered the room. Turning his head, a grunt of disapproval came from Worf as his eyes narrowed at the Terran slave.

This reaction was another thing that B'elanna had not been expecting. Though hatred for Terrans could be found within every citizen in the Alliance, including its leader, she had never seen the look that Worf now wore. It was as if he had suddenly come across his worst enemy, and was considering the most painful way that he could end that enemy's life.

Watching the slave as she began to pick up refuse from the floor, B'elanna merely said, "It's only Marlena," in a tone meant to reassure her friend.

At B'elanna's voice, the Klingon leader snapped his head back around to stare at her. "Get rid of her," he said in such a menacing tone that even B'elanna felt uncomfortable.

Despite the fact that she had no clue as to why the slave's presence had so enraged her friend, B'elanna shifted in her chair so that nothing obstructed her view of the Terran. "Marlena," she beckoned, trying to make her tone sound as normal as possible. "Go and busy yourself elsewhere. We are not to be bothered by your presence again." At this some of her Klingon self asserted itself as the sternness of her tone caused the slave to be nervous.

Quickly standing up off of the floor, Marlena nervously replied "Yes, milady," before giving a slight bow and scurrying out of the room.

No longer being in the slave's presence, a more relaxed sense came from Worf as he continued on. "Over the past few weeks there have been reports of Alliance vessels coming under attack by an unknown marauder." Worf paused for a moment and reached into his Regent robe, pulling out a P.A.D.D. and handing it to B'elanna.

"At first nobody thought anything of it," he continued as B'elanna took the P.A.D.D. into her hand and began to look over it. "Marauding is something that is growing more and more common, especially in some of the more annexed regions. As a result, these reports didn't strike anyone as odd. The targets didn't seem to have a pattern either; a cargo vessel here, a few freighters there, but nothing substantial."

Placing the P.A.D.D. aside for a moment, along with her curiosity as to why Worf had handed it to her, B'elanna leaned forward and focused intently on her friend's words. She was intrigued as to how a marauder could be causing such concern for those in power within the Alliance, but rather then interrupt Worf by voicing this concern she merely felt it wise to hold her tongue until he was finished.

"That was until we started piecing things together. It started with a report from the Breen War Command that a convoy of mametic gel was raided. Then the Obsidian Order admitted to losing a supply of coalytic enzyme." No longer able to feel comfortable in his chair, Worf rose up and began to pace across the room. "The Empire itself has recently lost a freighter that was bringing thorazin to a hospital on Kolar IV."

In her mind, B'elanna went over the short list of supplies that Worf had mentioned. None of them seemed to be too big of a concern in her opinion. Each item was used on the frontlines for medical emergencies. For wide spread use they were completely useless, so why anyone would bother stealing them was beyond her.

"Despite this growing list of stolen medical supplies, no one gave it much concern." Stopping in his pacing, there was a pause in Worf's words before he turned to face B'elanna. "But then we took notice of where each of these raids was taking place. All of them were within reach of the Tkruv'Bok nebula."

Mention of this nebula caused B'elanna to recall the exact details about it. Being on the border between Klingon and Cardassian space had made it well catalogued. What made it of special interest was the neutronic radiation that emanated from the cloud's particles. Ships were known to get lost trying to navigate through the nebula because of interference to navigational sensors. Remembering this fact, something came to her mind.

"So you believe that the same group of marauders is responsible for each of the raids?" B'elanna asked of her friend, putting together what she knew of the nebula and what Worf had just told her.

"Indeed," was all Worf chose to say in response.

Assuming that there was an organized band of marauders, then it would make sense for so many vessels to be attacked near Tkruv'Bok. The abnormal radiation would make a perfect hiding place for someone who was looking to attack passing Alliance vessels. They might even be able to set up a base of operations within the nebula. Very little of it had been mapped due to the sensor interference, so it was possible that a planetoid or other stray cosmic fragment could exist deep within the cloud.

Something suddenly occurred to B'elanna as she thought about the situation. Listing the items stolen again in her mind, a dark realization was found. Separately, each of the supplies was innocuous and practically useless for whatever purpose the marauders had in mind. If they were combined together, however, "They could use the supplies to make a bio-weapon," B'elanna suddenly blurted out with a grave tone as she connected the dots.

"That's what we realized as well," replied Worf in a tone similar to B'elanna's.

There was a pause as B'elanna stared at her friend. Though a question rested in her mind, she just couldn't bring herself to ask it. She didn't need to ask it, however, as Worf knew it full well.

"Two days ago," the mighty Klingon warrior started again, "the IKS Ta'Coth received a distress call from our base in the Eirolon system. Only a partial message was received by the Vor'Cha before communications were terminated." In response to this the Intendant's eyes grew wide in dread before Worf added "There were no survivors."

Tightening her hands, a fevered rage took hold of B'elanna. Fighting a war against the Romulans for so long should have made them all immune to the pangs of loss, yet it seemed like that would never happen. Each time a comrade fell in death then those that survived were sure to feel the loss as though it represented so much more than a number on a headcount.

What angered B'elanna even further about the situation was that those aboard Eirolon had not died in glorious battle on the front lines staving off the Romulan onslaught, but rather they had been snuffed out by a few cowards while performing their duties. There was nothing glorious about their deaths. Not in how they died, nor why. "Tell me we know who these pa'tahqs are," she said to her friend as she gritted her teeth in rage.

"When the Ta'Coth arrived at Eirolon to render assistance, they did find an image of the attacker still in the station's memory banks." At this B'elanna stared at her friend, hoping that his next words would reveal the identities of the cowards that had slaughtered without cause. Instead of saying anything though, he merely gestured to the P.A.D.D.

In a fit of blind passion she grabbed the small device from where she had placed it. Tapping in a few commands to access the information it contained, there was a still moment before the P.A.D.D. responded and showed her what it contained. When the image appeared to her, all she could do was stare as her mind tried to process it.

"The attacking ship was Voyager," Worf said, stating aloud what his friend had just realized. "Seven's ship."

Seeing the Terran vessel from Eirolon's records was something that B'elanna just couldn't wrap her mind around. "But how?" was all she could think to say.

Exhaling, the powerful Klingon leader approached his friend as he began to speak. "Five months ago during the Narendra Conference she was placed under suspicion," he said, recounting the events of the fateful conference. "Before we realized her innocence, she managed to escape imprisonment and disappeared with her vessel. Now, we know where she went."

Despite the evidence against Seven, B'elanna still couldn't imagine that the Terran woman would turn on the Alliance. Whether or not she had been ostracized during the Narendra Conference was a moot point. Even if Seven left with a grudge, she had to have seen the utter futility in striking the Alliance. Beyond that, Seven had to know that if the Alliance fell, then no one would be able to stave off the Romulan threat. In attacking then it would only help the Romulans, which was something that B'elanna felt the Terran woman would never do.

Aside from wondering why Seven had attacked an Alliance station, B'elanna had to wonder something else; why Seven had attacked this specific station. Eirolon was almost a full day's travel from Tkruv'Bok, far from the safety that the nebula provided. There was the fact that Eirolon was a more isolated system, but still things didn't add up. "Why would she attack this station?" B'elanna finally voiced.

"That answer is obvious," Worf said gravely before tapping a button on the P.A.D.D. that his friend still clutched in her hands.

Replacing the image of the Terran vessel was a manifest of the station's cargo. Scanning the list before her, B'elanna tried to understand her former friend's reasoning. Almost immediately the attack's intent was revealed. "Eirolon was an armory station for the Alliance," came the Intendant's words as she realized this fact about the facility. "But why would Seven want to steal a bunch of weapons?"

Worf grunted, seeing the answer to that question as being even more obvious than the answer to the previous. Waiting for a moment, he finally decided to clarify things for B'elanna as it became obvious that she wasn't going to figure things out on her own. "She's preparing for war," he said with finality to his tone.

"War?" B'elanna couldn't help but to questioningly blurt.

"Of course." The way in which Worf conveyed these two words made everything seem so obvious, yet for B'elanna, it wasn't. "Seven is a Terran, B'elanna," he put simply, "and Terrans are always looking for war. Since the Alliance conquered them, they have been waiting for the chance to strike back at us and reclaim their dominance. Seven is using her prestige to manipulate them in order to help start a revolution."

"No, that doesn't make any sense." Walking away from her friend, B'elanna began to pace around her room as she shook her head in disbelief. "Seven hates the fact that she's Terran," B'elanna said as she turned to face Worf. "Why would she put everything on the line for something that she despises so much?"

Shrugging, the Klingon before her just replied with, "I don't know, B'elanna, but that's what she is doing. As the Breen say, there is nothing more important to one's self than one's own heritage."

Despite what her friend said, she still just couldn't accept that Seven had turned enemy on her former friends. "There is no way that Seven would betray us like this," came her repeated sentiment.

"Don't forget, she believes we drew first blood by shunning her on Narendra," Worf reminded.

"No, she detests her heritage. She would never help out the Terrans. I know, because she feels the same way about being Terran as I do about being half-Terran. And no one believes I'm about to betray the Alliance." There was a pause as B'elanna looked into her friend's eyes on this sentiment. When he stood there silent, a wave of panic flooded her as she had to ask, "No one does, right?"

Here was something that Worf had hoped to avoid during their conversation, though part of him knew it was inevitable. B'elanna had been such a close friend of his for so long that the last thing he wanted to do was to tell her anything that might cause her pain. "Why do you think he's here?" Worf asked as he gestured towards the sliding doors and out of B'elanna's quarters.

This was something that she couldn't believe. The moment she had seen Worf's trailing bodyguard she had wondered his cause. Finding out that she was that cause, forced her to reconsider a few things. "Your bodyguard's a watchdog?" she asked as she continued to descend further into disbelief.

Sensing how distraught his friend had become, Worf knew that he had to handle things very delicately. "No, not exactly," he said as he searched for the proper words to explain things. "My bodyguard is not here for the sake of spying, but rather for my own safety."

Hearing this, B'elanna grew even more confused about everything. "Safety?" came her confusion in the form of a question. "What do you need to be safe from aboard my vessel?" At this question Worf looked at her intently, and B'elanna couldn't help but to feel offended as his look answered the question she had only a moment ago asked.

"No one is suggesting that you would turn against me, or the Alliance," Worf painfully lied. "There are just a few people that felt that the leader of the Alliance needed some protection in such dangerous times."

B'elanna almost bought this excuse as truth, but looking into her friend's eyes revealed how honest he was being to her. "You're lying," she muttered. "You were always a terrible liar," she added as she turned so that her back faced her friend.

Full of dismay over what was happening, over what others were forcing into his life, the mighty Worf collapsed back into the Terran chair with a sigh. He didn't much care for the chair's soft embrace, but for the moment he didn't mind it. Looking at his friend, frustration over everything began to form inside his being as he drew his gaze to stare deep into his weathered hands.

"You're right, B'elanna," he painfully admitted. "This war with the Romulans…it's gone on so long. It has taken such a toll on everyone. With their treachery, the betrayal from our Andorian allies, and now this Terran insurgency with Seven. No one knows who to trust anymore."

There was a tone that pulled at the edges of Worf's words that B'elanna couldn't shrug off. He sounded so defeated, so downtrodden, that her rage of a moment ago was nearly washed away in forgiveness and concern. Still, she wasn't about to put the matter behind her so easily. "If no one trusts in me anymore, then why keep me around?" she shot back over her shoulder, hoping deep down that she hadn't just revealed the true purpose of Worf's visit.

In this moment Worf couldn't think of anything to say other than the truth. Had it been anyone else, or any other situation, then he would have never admitted such things. Being B'elanna though forced honesty to be the only thing on his tongue. "I need you, B'elanna" he weakly replied.

This admission caused B'elanna to turn back around and return her gaze to the friend that meant so much to her. What she saw was something that she didn't expect to find. Worf, the strong and mighty leader of a quadrant wide Alliance, appeared as weak as any single person could. Slumped into the chair, his eyes gazed at her beyond the edge of his fingers, gazing with such a helpless plea to them. It became too much for B'elanna to bear.

Moving across the room to where her friend sat, B'elanna knelt beside him and looked into his eyes. There was a sense behind his eyes that she had not seen since the murder of Deanna Troi, and for the first time for as far back as the half-Klingon woman could recall, she worried about her friend.

A strong bond had formed between them over the years, and through that bond B'elanna had grown to deeply care for the man before her. It pained her to see him like this, and if there was a chance that she could help relieve him of this burden then she knew she had to try. Placing a hand gently on his shoulder she stared at him and softly asked, "What can I do?"

"This has to stop before it gets out of hand," he quietly replied, though with each word his voice grew stronger and more firm. "Seven is a problem that you and I created, B'elanna. We should have taken care of things better on Narendra, and because of our negligence she has the means to start a war. The Alliance could fight that war, and win, but not without sacrificing ourselves onto the altar of the Romulans."

Taking this in, B'elanna was further unsure of how she could be of some help. She was about to ask again, until Worf decided to answer her question before it was even asked.

"Seven must be stopped before she launches her assault on the Alliance." Worf paused for a second as he gazed at his friend's face for the last innocent moment she would ever be allowed. Swallowing away some saliva, he merely wetted his lips before saying "You have to stop her B'elanna."

"Me?" she forcefully replied as she pulled away from her friend. Looking back upon him, she hoped to reveal more of what was on his mind to suggest such a thing. Unfortunately for her, there was nothing to be found. Instead of trying to sort things out on her own she just asked, "Why?"

Yet again Worf found himself being asked a question that seemed easily answerable. "Because you know her, B'elanna. You know how she thinks, how she acts, how she feels. She worked with you for so long that you know more about her than anyone else in the Alliance." Pausing, Worf could tell how unsure B'elanna was about everything. "Like you said, you two are a lot alike," he added, reminding the woman of how moments ago she had compared herself to the traitorous Terran.

Despite everything that she knew about the Terran woman, B'elanna still felt as though she didn't know a thing. Finding out that Seven had turned against the Alliance shocked the Intendant to the core, leaving only doubt in its wake about how much she really knew her former friend.

Now she was being asked to turn against that friend, by someone who was as close to her as two people could become. All of her time spent with Seven had formed a deep bond between them, a bond that B'elanna wouldn't readily admit to; especially now in the wake of such revelations. Though her rage over the attack on Eirolon still bubbled beneath the surface, everything she had been through with her onetime friend forced her against acting in such a hostile way.

"I….can't…." was her shaky reply to Worf's request.

While he was far from pleased by this response, Worf knew that this task would not be easy for B'elanna. Considering what she was being asked to do caused him to not envy her, as it hurt him even more that he was the one asking it. "You must do something, B'elanna. Imagine all of the people Seven will murder if given the chance. More than that, her treachery could destabilize the whole Alliance until a Romulan flag flies on Q'onos itself!"

There was such a forceful tone to Worf's words that for a moment B'elanna forgot that they were friends. "No, you don't understand!" she shot back. "Seven and I knew each other so well that we…." Her voice faltered at this point and she couldn't help but to look away in shame as she meekly added, "were really close."

When B'elanna turned away from him once more Worf began to get an idea of just how hard this task was. Never before had he felt so pained by what he was doing, but he could see no other way. Rising up from the soft chair, he crossed the room before placing a hand on each of B'elanna's shoulders and quietly said, "Please B'elanna, help me stop this threat before it begins."

Beneath her Klingon veneer, B'elanna could feel her Terran half pushing water to her eyes as the situation took its toll on her emotions. For so long she had wanted this moment to come; for Worf to be with her again, and for her to be given a task more worthwhile than hiding in the former Terran system. Somehow, this wasn't what she had imagined. Now, instead of being asked to kill an enemy, she was being asked to kill a friend.

It didn't take much for her to realize how right Worf was though. In attacking Eirolon Seven had crossed a dangerous line, and it was a move that seldom was taken back. Turning to face her friend, B'elanna somehow managed a nod with her head as she stared into the strong warrior's eyes, and committed herself to stopping someone that had once meant so much to her.

Hours later as she sat on the bridge of the Fek'lehr, B'elanna realized that her mood hadn't changed at all. Having some time pass since Worf had set her to this task hadn't let any part of her grow comfortable about what she would have to do. From within her being was a voice that begged against going after Seven, and it was a voice that she had no clue how to silence.

After B'elanna had agreed that Seven was a threat that needed to be stopped, she and Worf had spent some time discussing strategy. The Terran woman had been in hiding for over five months now. While part of that length of time could be credited to the fact that no one in the Alliance had any clue where she might have gone, both Klingon leaders knew that Seven would be near impossible to find.

Hiding in the Tkruv'Bok nebula gave Seven a literal shroud to wrap around herself. Without the use of their sensor array it would be near impossible for the Fek'lehr to locate any trace of Seven or her vessel, but still B'elanna knew she had to try. Suddenly an ancient Terran saying about haystacks sprang to her mind as she thought about the task at hand. Merely stopping Seven was going to be a challenge sure, but B'elanna knew that finding her would be the first great obstacle that needed to be overcome.

Inside of the Intendant's quarters the Klingon Regent had wanted to devise an exact strategy for how things were to play out. The fact that he felt a need for such a thing alarmed B'elanna, who began to wonder just whom it was in the Alliance that really questioned her loyalties. Still, she had seen no harm in discussing the matter; at least some of the matter.

Working with Seven so closely had given her a unique perspective about the Terran. It was a perspective that she was reluctant to mention, however. Part of her still had aversions to her task, and it was those aversions that held her tongue in discussing the matter with Worf. Despite having a silenced tongue, there was something that she had managed to pass along to her friend; Seven was unconventional.

Though it had never been very apparent about her, there was something within the Terran that had made her thinking unique in the Alliance. Whether it was due to her Terran heritage or her unique upbringing on Cardassia that gave her this quality B'elanna couldn't say, but it was something that B'elanna couldn't help but to admire.

Little was known about Seven's past, and she had never been one to elaborate on the topic. The few bits that B'elanna had known were bits that hardly helped to paint a complete picture about the woman. Instead they had acted as tiny morsels that would whet one's curiosity and do nothing more. That fact in itself was enough to make the Terran woman more than just a slave in the Alliance.

Another thing that fascinated B'elanna about the woman was Seven's dealings just prior to her ascension to the role of Overseer. She had been in the service of the Bajoran Intendant, who was a woman that B'elanna despised with every part of her. When Kira herself held the role of Overseer it had been a time that B'elanna had dreaded. It was simple chance that the Bajoran had inherited the title, as surely it would had gone to Duras had he not been murdered by a filthy street urchin days before the Alliance meeting. Seething for a moment, B'elanna couldn't help but to pray that one day she would be given the chance to choke the life from whomever it had been that had slain her friend.

To the shock of everyone though, Kira had not stayed in her lofty title for long. The role was something that everyone knew the Bajoran woman had coveted, and when she had so quickly vacated it then it sent ripples across the whole Alliance. Naming a Terran slave as her successor left everyone in further shock. There was more to that story than anyone had known. B'elanna's instincts told her as much, especially after she began to work with Seven once the woman had settled into her new role. Unfortunately, that story was one that was still a mystery to her.

Even with everything that she knew, B'elanna still could think of no reason why Seven might attack the Alliance. This sentiment she kept emphasizing to Worf as they discussed the woman and what should be done about her. Terran or not, Seven was far from a revolutionist. Nor did she have any compassion toward the race to whose legacy she was tied to, especially not enough to compel her to take such actions. If both of these facts held true, then what could have possibly been her reason?

The pair of Klingons discussed the matter for some time after she had agreed to it. Not only about Seven herself, but how she was going to be dealt with. They both knew that B'elanna needed a well thought out strategy if she was expected to have any measure of success in this mission.

Considering the radiation disturbances that were found in Tkruv'Bok, neither thought the task of finding Seven would be easy. Over the years there had been many research expeditions sent in an attempt to map Tkruv'Bok extensively, yet very little progress had been made. Such efforts had always been thought of as low priority though, as much of the Alliance's resources were needed for the war.

All of that was assuming Seven was indeed based inside of the deep crimson nebula. Just because she raided near Tkruv'Bok didn't automatically mean that she used the area as her staging platform. Such a thing would make sense, but after fighting for so long against a race such as the Romulans, one tended to disbelieve the obvious answer as being the correct answer.

The rest of Worf's stay had been brief and disjointed, as his thoughts focused heavily on the traitorous Terran woman and the need to stop her. As she had watched her friend, B'elanna grew to understand why the warrior spark had seemingly been drained from him. Seven represented a terrible danger to the Alliance, a danger that he couldn't help but to feel responsible about creating. B'elanna had tried her best to relieve him of this guilt, but he would have no part in it. This left an uncomfortable feeling between them for the rest of his visit.

Wishing she could have spent more time with him, B'elanna tried to push such sentiments aside. What she needed to focus on for the moment was Seven, and how she was to find the woman. This became the central focus of her efforts as she sat in the center of her flagship's bridge, awaiting their arrival at Tkruv'Bok.

Her wait proved to be a very short one. Understanding the seriousness of the situation, B'elanna had pushed her ship to the red line in order to reach Tkruv'Bok as fast as possible. Allowing the vessel to exceed the languid speeds it normally patrolled with, cut the travel time between Sol and Tkruv'Bok from several days to just one.

Though she wasn't anxious to face Seven and end her friend's life, she couldn't help but to charge into such a task as fast as her vessel could take her. She just wanted the whole matter to be put behind her, and for her to be able to move on with her duties. Never before did she imagine that she would actually be looking forward to a return to her dull responsibilities in the former Terran Empire.

A slight humming ran through the ship, before abruptly stopping as the Klingon vessel slowed in its approach. Jarring the Intendant from her thoughts, she watched on as the star blanketed space was replaced by a dark red cloud. Whether she was happy about it or not, the Fek'lehr had arrived at its destination. Tkruv'Bok, the place where she would have to end Seven's life.

"We have arrived," voiced the helm officer, though he only announced it out of formality.

"Take us in. Full impulse," came B'elanna's order. As the Vor'Cha class vessel's engines glowed and it moved towards the nebula's outer edge, she merely said something to herself under her breath and tried to not appear too grimacing at her assigned task.

For the next several hours a dull tedium set into the bridge of the Fek'lehr. While B'elanna had known that they wouldn't find any sign of Seven right away, she steadily grew more and more dismayed as their searching continued to prove fruitless. Quickly, the half-Klingon Intendant lost patience with the situation, as the Fek'lehr continued in its systematic scan of the nebula.

A pattern had developed between B'elanna and her surrounding bridge officers. Nearly at random she would pick out a sector of space for her crew to do a sensor sweep. Running on full impulse they would approach the target coordinates, scan every particle of the nebula they could, and the officer manning the sensor station would have to tell the Intendant that nothing had been found. It was a simple routine, and one that caused those stuck in it to quickly lose interest in their mission.

With the vessel beneath her zooming towards another set of coordinates to scan, B'elanna couldn't help but to let her head fall into her hands. The system of mapping out the nebula that Worf had suggested was getting them no where. Already several hours of time had been lost to them, without so much as a clue as to where Seven might be. Knowing that they could be searching forever without finding the Terran woman, B'elanna simply relented to the fact that something else was needed.

Thinking back to when she had worked with Seven, she tried to discern anything about the woman that might be used to help track her down. Nothing came to her. No, in fact B'elanna soon found her mind occupied not so much by trying to find a weakness, but rather remembering the woman's strengths. There had been a savvy intelligence to her that had been astounding, even if she was but a lowly Terran. That intelligence, and the way she used in to help strengthen the Alliance while serving as Overseer, was what had made having a Terran in such a lofty position tolerable to the rest of those in the Alliance hierarchy.

If Seven indeed had such gifted intelligence, then what had compelled her to turn on the Alliance? This question was one that B'elanna couldn't shake from her mind, no matter how hard she tried. The Terran had been ostracized and persecuted during one of the Alliance's most vital conferences on Narendra III, but had she really been so petty as to declare war on the Alliance just for how she had been treated? Though it was a possibility, it was one that B'elanna could not see Seven fitting.

Her and B'elanna's relationship had been a close one; closer than B'elanna would admit to. There was an upside to this, as it allowed her into the Terran's mind to know things about her that no one else would ever. Due to this reason Worf had chosen her to track down the Terran traitor, though at the moment B'elanna couldn't help but to wish he hadn't.

Over the course of her service to the Alliance B'elanna had never wavered away from her duties, but this was something that she couldn't help but to dislike. Somewhere along the way she had fallen into a choice between a person she cared about, and her own honor. The demands of honor in Klingon society were overwhelming, and even though she was only half-Klingon, she felt them nonetheless.

Aside from honor, Seven had crossed a line. B'elanna knew that, and she felt the need to keep repeating this fact to herself as the Fek'lehr continued its search. Despite whatever had been between the two women was now over. The senseless killings on Eirolon had made that a necessity.

Rising up from her chair, B'elanna approached the view screen with renewed determination. Blindly searching for the Terran woman's location was proving futile. Everyone aboard the Fek'lehr knew as much. What they needed wasn't a way to find Seven, but rather a way for Seven to find them. Racking her brain, the half-Klingon Intendant tried to think what would make for the best lure.

Something obvious came to her as she searched for the answer. Making her way towards one of the rear bridge stations, B'elanna went over her idea once more in her head, as though she needed to confirm that it was indeed something worth exploring. "Does the neutronic radiation affect our comms system?" she asked the corresponding officer on approach.

Looking over his display for a moment to be sure, the soldier shook his head as he spoke. "No, Intendant. We can transmit normally from anywhere inside of the nebula."

"Good," came her simple reply. Turning away from the officer and walking back towards the view screen, she remained silent as she chose a few last words in her mind. If the friendship that she had once shared with the Terran still weighed so heavily on her mind, then there was a chance that it was present on Seven's as well. Trying to reconnect with the woman after so much had happened was a long shot, but in the end it was all that B'elanna had.

Moistening her lips and clearing her throat, she gave a signal to open a channel before speaking. "Seven, I know you're out there. Out there hiding because you think you have an enemy on your doorstep. You don't though, Seven. It's me, B'elanna. I just want to talk to you. Please respond." Gesturing to the comms officer, the channel was closed as B'elanna hoped that enough of her friendship with Seven remained for the woman to reply.

Pacing across the bridge of her vessel made it apparent how agitated B'elanna was about the whole situation. As if things weren't bad enough considering her mission, the fact that no amount of progress had been achieved only worsened things for her. If something didn't happen soon, then she didn't know what would become of her.

The soldiers around the pacing Intendant continued about their duties, unaffected by their commanding officer's actions. None of them felt at ease about B'elanna sending a message to their enemy, as each of them knew it to only be an invitation for their own destruction. Still, she was in charge and they were not. Honor bound to follow whatever order B'elanna gave; they followed those orders as best as anyone could.

For awhile, B'elanna was forced to consider that her plan to lure Seven out had failed. There had been no message from her, nor was there any sign of Voyager or any other vessel. Around her the Fek'lehr bridge officers had continued with their sensor sweeps, not quite believing that the Terran they sought would be so easily drawn from the shadows. It was a sentiment that was proving to be more and more likely with each passing tick of the clock.

After a full hour had gone by in silence, B'elanna started working towards a new plan for bringing Seven out of hiding. She could hardly blame the woman for remaining wherever she was. Facing a Vor'Cha class cruiser was an intimidating experience for any enemy of the Alliance, and from what she could recall then she knew Seven's vessel was hardly equipped to go toe to toe with the Klingon one. Still, the fact that nothing from Seven had been heard made B'elanna all the more frustrated.

This frustration left her unsure of what to do next. If Seven wasn't going to respond to her message, then another strategy was needed. What that strategy was to be, B'elanna hadn't a clue. Staring at the crimson nebula before her, the Intendant awaited as though some divine answer would come from Tkruv'Bok's murky depths. She became lost in the alien haze, and let the rest of the world around her fall away. That was until a shimmering light suddenly enveloped her, and whisked the woman away before anyone had the chance to react.

As soon as the scene before her began to change, B'elanna couldn't help but to wonder what was going on. She was not immediately aware of what had happened to her, but when the surroundings changed from the Fek'lehr's bridge to a dilapidated transporter room, her mind suddenly knew.

"Turn around, slowly!" a voice commanded from behind her.

Following this demand, B'elanna slowly turned, not making any attempt to rid her face of the smug look it bore. This kidnapping was something that B'elanna wasn't impressed by in the least, and it was a fact that she felt the need to express to her captors as she faced them.

Before her were two Terran men. The younger of the pair, a tall man with blonde hair, pointed a phaser rifle at her. From behind the transporter console the second man approached B'elanna. He had dark hair, as well as an odd tattoo just above his left eye. Though she didn't know either of these men's names, she remembered that they were members of Seven's crew.

Carefully the tattooed man approached her, making sure to remain cautious of her movements as he did so. Out of the corner of her eye she could tell that he too was armed, though his weapon remained holstered at his side for the moment.

When he reached her, he immediately grabbed the disruptor from her own belt, as well as a dk'tahg dagger that was strapped to her thigh. "Is that all?" he asked, eyeing the weapons he held then B'elanna.

"Why don't you come a little closer and find out?" B'elanna coyly replied as she toyed with the man.

This response didn't have much affect on the man before her, but his friend was much more easily goaded. "Come on Chakotay, one shot and she'll no longer be a threat to us," the younger man excitedly said.

"Tom!" was the forceful reply as Chakotay turned to face his companion. "Annika wants her _alive_." With that he turned back to B'elanna before saying, "Move it," as he drew his holstered weapon and pointed it at her.

Stepping off of the transporter platform, B'elanna eyed the two men. When she picked up the name Annika being spoken, her mind couldn't help but to cling to it and find it odd that Seven had decided to revert to her Terran name.

The moment that the Alliance Intendant stepped onto the grav-plated floor then Tom took a step forward, bringing his face close to hers. "You better feel lucky that you're so valuable. If it were up to me, I'd shoot you dead right here," he said with disgust before he spit on her Klingon uniform.

Having such disgrace fall upon the uniform she proudly wore, B'elanna could barely contain the rage inside of her. Visions of snapping him in two flashed through her mind, but she knew that for the moment, she had to give in to their whims. Instead, she settled for baring her teeth and giving a low growl before Chakotay suddenly jabbed her in the back.

"I said move it!" was his stern order as he pointed a disruptor at her.

Softening her features until only a smug smile remained, she silently conveyed to Tom just what she thought of him before she looked over her shoulder at Chakotay. There was a fierce quality to his face as he stared at her, disruptor at the ready. She knew that he wouldn't fire the weapon at her, and yet she still felt no reason to ignore his command. Relaxing, she exited the room with the Terran men in tow.

The hallways that the trio walked were in horrible condition. Everywhere B'elanna looked there were bulkheads loosely hanging, conduits barely flickering with power, and tools left by engineers in complete disarray. Being one of the most wanted people in the Alliance had certainly forced Seven into several battles, with very few supporters to aid in repairs. Considering the state that Voyager was apparently in, B'elanna could hardly believe that this vessel could wage war against the Alliance. Of course, in the shape it was then she was amazed it was working at all; clearly a testament to those few that served aboard.

Guiding her down this hallway and that, the armed men led their prisoner through the bowels of Voyager. Though they had not told her where they were headed, B'elanna had a fair guess that Seven was waiting for her in the captain's ready room.

During the time in which the two powerful women had worked together B'elanna had frequented Voyager many times, gaining an intimate knowledge of its layout along the way. With this in mind, neither of her escorts felt the need to tell her where they were going. They knew that she understood where she was going, and that freed both of them up to watch her closely, making sure she didn't do something to try and sabotage the vessel surrounding them.

B'elanna's assumption proved correct as she was led into a small turbo lift. The whirring noises from the lift provided a nice change of pace from the silence that had enveloped them throughout their journey from the transporter room. Once their brief trip came to a halt, Tom waved his phaser rifle in front of B'elanna before she stepped out of the turbo lift and found herself standing before a door that read: _Main Bridge_.

Stepping through the sliding doors, B'elanna found a sudden hush come from the soldiers that manned Voyager's systems. There were nearly a dozen scattered throughout the round command center, and all of them instinctively moved a hand to their holstered weapons the moment they saw B'elanna.

"Everyone keep your cool," Chakotay called out as he stepped from behind B'elanna to stand beside her, still pointing his own weapon at the Alliance soldier. "Where's Annika at?"

A woman standing in the center of the room gestured off to her left with her head as she said, "Waiting in her office."

Taking in the woman's face, B'elanna recalled the woman's name to be Kathryn. Most of the rest of soldiers around her wore faces that seemed vaguely familiar as well. There was a young Asian man, as well as a Vulcan woman. In fact, all of the soldiers present were either Terran or Vulcan, and with their worn faces and raggedy clothes none of them appeared to be in the best of conditions. Believing that these things had any bearing on their true states though only betrayed what really coursed through their veins; fierce determination.

Ripping her away from her observations came another jab to the back as Tom tried to push her forward with the barrel of his rifle. Over her shoulder B'elanna looked at the man, once more picturing a gruesome death that she would bring him given the chance. From all around her she sensed rising tension as her actions provoked the war-torn soldiers. Even if she still had her weapons, she wasn't convinced that she would be able to take on so many and still survive. Aside from this, B'elanna was very anxious to come face to face with her old friend, and hopefully gain some answers.

When B'elanna eased her body, the rest of those present quickly followed suit before Chakotay led the Alliance Intendant and her other escort across the bridge towards where Seven awaited. In the lasting moments where B'elanna was led across Voyager's bridge, every pair of eyes in the room stayed fixed on her. Those eyes didn't leave her when the doors to the ready room opened, and even after she stepped inside and they slid close then they couldn't help but to linger for a moment longer before resuming their duties.

A dull gray resonated from the walls, as most of the room lay bare. It wasn't the room's furnishings that B'elanna cared about. No, what she cared about was the blonde haired woman that sat behind a desk. What she cared about was this woman, and the answers that she would strangle from her.

The moment the doors to the ready room slid open then Seven's attention was diverted away from the P.A.D.D. which she had been mulling over. Chakotay was the first to enter the small room, and as the Terran leader's gaze fell upon him she couldn't help but to wonder why he was interrupting her. When he stepped away and revealed the half-Klingon prisoner that was accompanying him, she couldn't help but to smile devilishly.

Behind B'elanna the doors to the room slid close and she now found herself staring face to face with someone who had once been such a valued ally, only now to become the worst of foes. Silence hung in the air as both women considered what should be said next, before Seven took it upon herself to speak.

"Very good work, gentlemen," she addressed B'elanna's escorts. "Now leave us. I wish to speak with the Intendant alone."

"But Annika!" Chakotay started to protest, only to silence himself as Seven's gaze shifted from B'elanna to him, accompanied by a chilling stare. That was all that was needed before both he and Tom scurried out of the room, leaving Seven and B'elanna alone for the first time since before the Narendra conference those many months ago.

"Have a seat," Seven said to B'elanna as she gestured to a tattered piece of furniture across from her. When it became apparent that the half-Klingon woman wasn't going to move, a sigh came from Seven before she shrugged the matter off. "There are some things that we need to talk about."

The obviousness of this statement appalled B'elanna, almost enough for her to react violently towards Seven. Despite the history that these women had once shared, that was far from B'elanna's mind now. En route to Tkruv'Bok she had read over the Eirolon's manifest, as well as the reports concerning the other vessels Seven had recently attacked. There was no room left in B'elanna's heart for sympathy, and the only thing she wanted from the Terran was the answer to one question; "Why, Seven?"

This question was one that Seven expected, though it was one that she wasn't eager to answer. So much had happened, and was going to happen, that it was hard for her to choose a place to begin. Yet it was a question that needed an answer nonetheless. All Seven could hope was that her words would be ones that her one time friend could understand, if not support in some way. After taking a breath, she started out with a simple statement. "I cannot allow my people to be subverted by the Alliance any longer, B'elanna."

Before Seven could continue, something within the half-Klingon forced her to react. "Your people?" was her fierce tone behind this question. "Since when did they become your people?" she emphatically added as she gestured out the door towards the bridge.

"Whether anyone likes it or not, I am Terran. Just because I spent most of my life denying that fact, doesn't make it any less true."

Grunting in disgust B'elanna turned away from Seven. The woman's response was something that the half-Klingon couldn't stand to hear, seeing it as only a pathetic excuse to justify her recent actions.

"B'elanna," Seven said in a calm manner, hoping to coax her one time friend's attention back, "the Terran people can't live in slavery anymore. Even you have to see that."

Instead of breaking the ensuing silence with words, there was a loud creasing noise as B'elanna's leather gloved hand curled into a fist. Tightening it, she said "Not at the cost of loyal Alliance citizens."

The gaze which Seven had so fiercely focused on the Alliance Intendant now fell upon the desk at this statement. "I assume you mean those aboard Eirolon," was her meek reply.

"And others," B'elanna replied through gritted teeth.

Letting these things wash over her Seven sat there, showing hardly any emotion at all. When they finished sinking in, the Terran woman decided to once more try to make the soldier before her understand her reasons.

"I didn't want to kill them. I don't want to kill anyone, B'elanna. But sometimes, sacrifices have to be made."

"Sacrifices?" Contained within this single word was enough emotion to send B'elanna over the edge. Slamming her tightened fists onto Seven's desk, cracking it, she asked "When did the senseless murder of helpless people justify as meaningful sacrifices in your book?"

Having B'elanna's face near her own intensified the situation, and the anger held in the Intendant's tone wasn't helpful either. In response, her own anger started to creep to the surface as she replied.

"Tell me, B'elanna. Tell me, knowing the Alliance as we both do. Do you think the Alliance will just give us the freedom Terrans deserve? Will they end the slavery, the torture, the persecution just because we ask them to?" These questions hung in the air for a moment before Seven added "The only thing the Alliance knows is force, and that is precisely what I will give them."

Beginning to calm down, B'elanna thought over everything in her mind as she said "You're going to start a war Seven; a war that will destroy this entire quadrant. You're going to do it all out of some idealistic vision of freedom that can never be achieved." Looking over Seven, the half-Klingon's words softened as she whispered "And you know it."

"What else can I do?" was all that Seven replied with.

The fierce emotions that B'elanna had a moment ago continued to soften as she stared into her former friend's eyes and asked "Seven, do you honestly believe that you can win the Terrans freedom from the Alliance?"

Here was a question that Seven was familiar with, but in each instance that she had been asked before then she had answered with a lie. For the first time though, she had to be honest. "No, I don't. Not in dealing with what we have and what we are up against, then success for the rebellion is still out of our reach." There was a pause as the two women stood there gazing at each other before Seven muttered, "Unless you help us."

This statement was one that B'elanna was wholly unprepared for, and it showed in her reaction. "What?" was all that she could blurt out.

Rising up from her chair, but still keeping her eyes fixed on the half-Klingon before her, came Seven's next words. "The Terran rebellion is still in its infancy, B'elanna. And it's a very fragile infancy. You and I both know that the rebellion's very survival stands on the edge of collapse. Even those that fight under me know this fact, though they won't admit that they do."

"Then why must you fight at all?" B'elanna implored the Terran woman.

"Because," there was a sigh from Seven before she finished, "we have to. We can no longer live under the heel of the Alliance's boot. They want to be free, B'elanna, and they are willing to do anything to gain that freedom; even if it means their own death."

There was a grim look set upon the Alliance soldier's face as she heard this. Part of her could understand their desperation in this matter, but still to attack the Alliance in the hope for freedom? It was madness.

Noticing the reaction that her companion gave, Seven took a step forward, placing a hand on B'elanna's shoulder. "But if you help us, B'elanna, then we might succeed."

"How?" was all the half-Klingon chose to ask.

"Your presence here in Tkruv'Bok shows just how desperate the Alliance is to quell this rebellion while we are still disorganized. But if you kept our location a secret, and the Alliance a step behind us, then we will have the chance to grow strong enough to withstand anything they send."

"They didn't find you by chance," B'elanna said to Seven. "Your actions raiding vessels in the nearby sectors, and the radiation that Tkruv'Bok naturally creates, made it an obvious place to start any search for you. That is why I was sent here before anywhere else."

"Still, they don't know for certain that I'm here." Even B'elanna had to admit that the Alliance was working mostly on conjecture in tracking down the Terran woman. "You are right though, we will have to move our operation to make certain the Alliance won't turn around and send another vessel here."

If this was to be Seven's plan of action, then B'elanna was confused as to why the woman would mention it. Surely Seven realized that as soon as she returned to the Alliance then she would inform her superiors that the Terran had left the region. Beyond that however, was the question of what exactly Seven wanted of her in leading the Alliance off of her trail.

Looking into B'elanna's eyes the Terran woman saw a flicker of the friendship the two once shared. It was within this flicker that she hoped there would be some compassion for her and her cause. At least have enough compassion to aide her in convincing B'elanna to help her.

"We need supplies, B'elanna; food, clothing, parts for Voyager. All of these are well within the grasp of the Intendant for one of the Alliance's most vital systems." There was a slight pause as B'elanna took this request in. Seven could tell that her words were beginning to have an effect, and so she pulled out one final statement to drive her point home. "If you gave us these things, we wouldn't have to slaughter anymore innocent people to get them."

This fact was something that began to cause B'elanna's entire opposition against Seven to crumble. Part of why she had been so angry with the Terran woman was the fact that she had attacked helpless soldiers aboard Eirolon. If this was a way for Seven to gain what she needed without anymore bloodshed then how could B'elanna so quickly dismiss it? Suddenly something struck her though, and her brief moment of faith towards Seven faded away. "And weapons too, I'd imagine," B'elanna nearly whispered.

Bringing up the matter of armaments was something that Seven had hoped to avoid. True, weapons were what the rebellion was in need of the most, but she had known if she pulled out a request for them so early then the chances for B'elanna's cooperation would be severely diminished. "Yes," was all Seven could say.

In response to this single word B'elanna pulled her shoulder away from Seven's grasp, allowing a new wave of rage to flood over her. "You want me to help you destroy the Alliance!" the half-Klingon yelled. "All of your talk about how if I help you, there won't be any more bloodshed, but you plan on the reverse happening."

Despite these words that were thrown at her, and the fierce tone behind them, Seven was hardly about to lose any ground. Instead of commenting directly on these accusations, she decided to take a slightly different approach to the conversation.

"B'elanna, I'm not just talking about ending the enslavement of the Terran race. No, I'm talking about something much more." The look that B'elanna reflected by these words made her curiosity about them apparent, leading Seven to press further. "I'm talking about ending the discrimination against our race; about giving a place for all Terrans within the Alliance, of equal standing, outside of an ore processing center. The prejudices that the other members of the Alliance have against Terrans shouldn't be tolerated anymore." Pausing to take a breath, she added "Being half-Terran, surely you have grown weary as well about having everyone look at you differently just because of your heritage."

While B'elanna's own issues in dealing with distrust due to her heritage were ones that had painfully followed her, it was something that she had never been vocal about. Never before had the issue come up between her and Seven, and having the Terran woman bring it up now only served to sting B'elanna. Unable to respond, all she did was turn away from the Terran woman and cross the room to gaze out of a small window in thought.

For a second there had been eye contact between the two women, and within that second Seven realized that she had struck a chord with the soldier before her. Watching as B'elanna turned away from her Seven knew that this small notion had imbedded itself deep within B'elanna's psyche; exactly like she wanted.

Moving to stand beside her onetime friend again, Seven's gaze followed B'elanna's into the crimson depths as she caressed "Help me B'elanna, and you won't ever have to feel ashamed of who you really are ever again."

Only a short time ago B'elanna had found herself aboard her vessel in the presence of someone she cared deeply about. But that visit had not at all gone as she had hoped. Instead of rejoicing in once more being with a friend that meant so much to her, she had been left to question so much about herself and her place in the Alliance.

She didn't want to admit it, but the pressures in regards to her Terran half were growing worse day by day, and all she wanted was a way to end having to feel so guilty for the sin committed by her very conception. Turning away from the embrace of the nebula she stared at Seven before speaking. The striking blonde hair, and the soft features that she bore hardly made a hardened image of a revolutionary, but that was exactly what Seven had become.

Slowly B'elanna drew in a breath before simply asking "How Seven? How can you cause the Alliance to change their views on such a thing?"

A smile found its way to Seven's face as she heard this question. Finding her own gaze pulled towards the woman next to her, Seven continued smiling as she stroked away a lock of B'elanna's auburn hair. "Don't worry, B'elanna. I will find a way to do it."

At Seven's touch then a flood of memories came to B'elanna as she suddenly realized just how much she had missed her friend. Before she became too swept away in those memories then she found herself asking "You can't just declare war on the Alliance though, Seven. In starting a war against them, all you will do is invite the Romulans to invade and finish us all off in one fell swoop." There was an emphatic tone behind these words, almost as though B'elanna was pleading to her friend to find a peaceful way to end the animosity between the Alliance and the Terran people.

"The Romulans will be dealt with as well," softly continued Seven. "As soon as I've dispatched the Alliance leadership, then we can hold a newly unified front against the Romulans, and crush them once and for all."

This promise, as well as the tone that Seven laced her words with, began to lull B'elanna into helping this woman for the good of everyone. Something though reached into her mind, and she had to go over the Terran's words once more to be certain that she had heard right. When she realized exactly what Seven had proposed then she found herself again pulling away from the woman's touch as her eyes widened. "You mean to take control of the Alliance then?"

"Of course," Seven stated matter-of-factly, confused as to why B'elanna had suddenly recoiled from her touch.

Pieces then began to take shape and fall into place within the Alliance soldier's mind. "You don't want to end the hostility between the Alliance and the Terrans. You want to end the Alliance itself! You want to control it, so that you can control the entire quadrant!" As she began to realize this, B'elanna suddenly found herself disgusted by Seven, seeing now that even though the woman had not been raised a Terran, she still had their thirst for dominance ingrained into her.

"The Alliance leadership has failed, B'elanna. Surely you can see that." When B'elanna gave no reply to this statement then Seven followed with "If there was any competence to be found within the leadership of the Alliance then they would have defeated the Romulans long ago. For over nine years Alliance soldiers have bled and died in fighting the Romulans, and for what? The war is still at a standstill. Why is that? It's because the bureaucrats don't know how to handle things anymore. Now is the time to get rid of them, for the sake of those few still bold enough to salute the Alliance's banner."

Each word that passed over Seven's lips served as another small betrayal in B'elanna's eyes. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, but through it all only one thing further rested on her mind. "What about Worf? What do you plan to do with him?"

For some reason Seven couldn't help but to sigh at this, feeling as though she still hadn't been able to get B'elanna to understand the true nature of what she was about to do. "He will have to be eliminated of course," was her toneless reply. "The only way to guarantee the stability of the Alliance is to wipe the slate clean, disposing of the defunct leadership that idly watches people die in droves for them."

Worf was to become a martyr for Seven's cause. This was something that B'elanna should have known from the very start of their conversation, but somehow it had eluded her. Now though with it revealed, then B'elanna began to see the true nature of what was going on. Seven didn't care about her, nor did she care about the Terrans that had pledged their devotion to her. Both were merely pawns, dead bodies to be used as stepping stones in her ascension to power. Anger pumped its way through B'elanna's true heart, her Klingon heart, as she reached to clutch something behind her back. Gripping the cold metal in her hands she merely stood there as the last bit of her Terran self faded away in the rush of emotions.

"You have no intention of saving anybody," B'elanna fiercely said to Seven as she planned out her next move. "Worf was right, you're a menace, Seven. At one point I considered you to be my closest friend, but that woman is gone now; consumed by her own petty needs for revenge and power." A heartbeat passed between them as B'elanna gazed at the woman who had meant so much one final time. "But now, it's time to get rid of you."

In a blur of motion B'elanna withdrew the mek'leth that she had concealed beneath her soldier's uniform. Launching towards the Terran woman, B'elanna slashed at her with the weapon. Unfortunately Seven had anticipated this, and dove out of the blade's way.

There was a hard thud as the half-Klingon hit the floor. Struggling to get up she cursed at the fact that she had missed her target, only to be rewarded as a dark red wetness dripped off of the weapon's edge.

Landing on top of her desk, Seven stretched out her arm to retrieve the dk'tahg blade that Chakotay had left when he had herded B'elanna into the room. A sharp pain suddenly pulled at her attention, bringing her hand up to her face. Wincing, there was another wave of pain as she removed her hand to notice it was covered in blood. Spinning on her heel she faced B'elanna and charged the woman.

Vaguely aware of Seven's actions forced B'elanna to duck, causing the Terran woman to topple over her down to the ground. Assessing the situation the Intendant saw this as her opportunity to quickly end the fight in her favor. Before Seven had the chance to react then B'elanna had pounced onto her, knocking the Klingon dagger out of the woman's hands, and pinning her to the ground.

Seven lay flat on her back with B'elanna was on top of her. She struggled futilely to free herself of the woman's grip as B'elanna seethed with anger. No matter how much she tried Seven remained pinned, staring up at the half-Klingon woman as she wondered how she could prevent the next few moments from being her last.

Placing her left hand around Seven's throat B'elanna raised the mek'leth with her opposite. Though she knew it had to be done, something within B'elanna forced her to hesitate. So much had happened between her and the woman she was about to kill, and she had never imagined that things would come to this. A few tears collected in her eyes, and she involuntarily shed them as she stared at the woman pinned beneath her.

From this respite Seven saw one final opportunity to sway favor to her, and to save her life. "B'elanna," she choked. "If you kill me, you kill the only chance to truly save everyone; Terrans and Alliance alike. And…I care for you, B'elanna. Forget the Alliance…their time is over. Join me by my side…help me save our people!"

Beyond the teary gaze that her own eyes produced B'elanna tried to determine how genuine Seven's words truly were. She wanted to believe in Seven, and that together they could change things for the better. But another part of her saw these same words as nothing but an attempt to make her into a pawn, to be used and tossed aside once Seven was assured dominance over the quadrant. It was too much for her in this instance to make a decision.

"NO!" _she screamed as she brought the blade down…_

"And then how did you manage to escape from Voyager?" came his question in a deep voice.

"One of my engineers had a transponder sewn into my uniform. All I had to do was activate it, and the Fek'lehr was able to track down Voyager," came her sullen reply.

"I can assume then that everyone on board was killed then?"

"They won't bother you again, I promise."

A deep sigh came from Worf as he stared at his friend on the comms screen. Sending her to eliminate Seven had been a decision not easily made, but admittedly there was a part of him that was glad for it. The Terran woman represented a true threat to the Alliance, a threat that had to be eliminated at all costs.

"Good work, B'elanna. Return to Sol, I'll visit shortly so we can have a real reunion." He smiled at this, a smile that was very seldom worn on his face.

"Alright," was all B'elanna quietly said in response. She somehow managed a smile of her own that she bore to her friend before the channel closed and she was alone once more.

Walking away from the comms screen B'elanna collapsed into a nearby chair. No matter what was to happen in the coming times then she knew all she wanted now was to be with Worf and grasp any semblance of joy that she could find in his arms. That was her last hope, along with the hope that he would never find out of how she had just lied to him about what had happened.


	21. Shadows Upon the Breach

_Chapter Twenty One: Shadows Upon the Breach_

Mission  
After spending the past month on Cardassia, Duren eagerly returns to the newly repaired Alvex. With new orders from the Detapa Council of great importance, and command of the elite Gamma Squadron, he charges into battle. Not everything is as it appears though.  
Mission Date:  
279th day in the 2369th of Molar

Slowly, he began to take shape. Particle by particle carefully materialized. Several safeguards were in place to make this amazing task seem ordinary, so much so that everyone had grown indifferent towards it. A few more milliseconds passed as the machine's cycle completed, before leaving the Cardassian commander standing there.

Once the machine had completed its task Gul Duren found himself in the Alvex's transporter room. Exhaling with relief, he merely stepped off of the pad, soaking in the moment. Across the room was a sturdy Cardassian soldier, who immediately stood at attention the moment his commander approached.

"At ease, lieutenant," Duren said with a smile and a slight wave of his hand.

In response the soldier relaxed, yet still managed to keep his gaze upon Duren. It was something that the Cardassian commander had not experienced in a while. Aboard a Cardassian vessel, especially in a time of war, brought a certain amount of respect to whoever was in charge. Down on the planet there were no such distinctions, as even a war hero could be regarded as just another face in the crowd.

Exiting the transporter room and leaving the impressionable soldier behind, Duren found that everything about him was more relaxed. The bustle of passing officers was turned into a pleasant hum of voices. A gentle sensation of movement beneath his feet brought a smile to his face. Even the uniformed coloring of the walls seemed to be a welcome addition. These were the things one noticed after finally coming home.

Walking down a hallway Duren couldn't help but to think of how odd such a notion was. As steadfast and accommodating as the Alvex had been since he took command, it had never had the same appeal that it did now. Home was always his small slice of soil on Cardassia Prime, never this ship. Now however, he couldn't help but to have a fresh attitude about the mighty vessel.

With the Galor class warship parked in an orbiting shipyard for repairs, he had been given the chance for some rest on the surface below. At least, that is what he had first believed. Not long after returning home, along with his guests Dukat and Ziyal, they had been summoned by the Detapa Council and labeled traitors of the state. It had been an action that Duren had no clue would happen the moment he brought the Cardassian hero back to their people, but it had only been the beginning of things during his respite from the war.

Natima Lang, head of Cardassia's ruling council, had sought to make an example out of him and Dukat to instill further obedience within the ranks of Cardassian citizens. Built on personal prejudices and already absolved crimes, she had tried to bring them down. Instead, Duren had implored the woman to put such petty things aside for the sake of Cardassian survival. It had not been an easy thing for her to do, but ultimately with Dukat's help she was able to see the bigger picture she had a role in.

Shortly after this first meeting the Detapa Council had made a formal announcement, exonerating Dukat and his daughter for the past transgressions they were accused of. All of Cardassia Prime celebrated the occasion, feeling that one of the greatest heroes of their kind had finally returned home. Despite whatever the Detapa Council had tried to do to tarnish Dukat's stature, it had obviously failed. Surely this was one reason why Natima felt pressed to support the people's hero once more.

Beyond this hero worship there was a much larger reason for the council to throw their support behind Dukat. The constant state of war that the Cardassian people had endured for over a decade and a half had caused morale to be abysmal. At the onset of the war against the Romulans then Cardassia had already had its fill of fighting, having just stamped out the Terran Empire once and for all. Losses and wins didn't account too much anymore, as they knew that no matter what today brought then tomorrow would hold no escape.

Rising death tolls could only result in a decrease of faith amongst loyal citizens. It was evident in their eyes that as the war stretched into the future, their hope of success faded into the past. What Cardassia needed was a symbol to spark their allegiance once more, and keep the fragile state of affairs from fracturing even further.

All across the planet signs of a crumbling nation began to surface. Crime was resurfacing as a major issue, and the apathy found within the typical citizen was alarming for Duren. These issues stayed mostly in the smaller cities that dotted the landscape, leaving most within the bustling environment of the capital to be largely unaware as to how bad things were really getting.

It was because of this isolation that the Detapa Council had turned a blind eye to the rampant social decay, focusing solely on their political stance within the Alliance and the war. Before returning to the Alvex Duren could already see this state begin to change. When he had revealed that a message from Natima's office had ordered him to rendezvous with the Ferengi vessel that had Dukat aboard, and thus begin the entire situation they now found themselves in, then it had become apparent that the resulting subterfuge was close to home. Though Duren now realized that it had been his friend Bendrick, not Natima, that had sent him the order he was hardly about to reveal such knowledge. Cardassia needed Dukat, and for helping to bring him home then Bendrick hardly deserved the inquisition he would be put under were his involvement with the matter revealed.

Simply saying that the council would take a more active role in promoting a stronger Cardassia had not been enough for him and Dukat, nor would it be enough in the eyes of so many loyal citizens. The council needed help. Help from someone untainted by so many years in politics that burdened them all. From this were several meetings involving the two Cardassian men as they tried to reshape the future of their people.

Before he was disgraced into fleeing Cardassia, Dukat's record had been a shining example to all of his compatriots. As a personal hero to many, it did not surprise Duren at all that the Cardassian people would respond so favorably to his exoneration. A smile made its way to Duren's face as he thought about this. How ironic that the traitors of the state had become the salvation of the state in a mere few hours.

With Dukat's return many changes were taking place to strengthen the Cardassian spirit. Many ways that the Detapa Council had led their people were falling by the wayside as the demands for new reforms were heard from every region of the planet. For the first time in a long while Cardassia Prime seemed whole, and its people rejuvenated. Knowing that this sudden stir of energy was caused by Dukat, a man that so many had forced into exile never to be heard from again, left Duren with a deep feeling of satisfaction as the turbo lift slowed and opened onto the bridge.

Taking a step into the round command center brought an entirely new feeling to wash over Duren. When last he had seen the Alvex's bridge several of the stations were no longer working, bulkheads loosely hung from the ceiling, and a tangled web of cracks made their way along the view screen. Never before had Duren endured such a fierce campaign as the Niradryx sector, taking on so many Romulan vessels in an attempt to destroy one of their long range sensor relays. That ferocity had taken its toll on the Galor class warship, leaving it in dock for well over a month before repairs were completed.

Now what he saw hardly appeared to be the same vessel. A new view screen was fixed to the bridge's forward sections. The loose plating had been meticulously welded back into place, though there was no sign that it had ever been damaged. Even the walls surrounding him seemed to sparkle with a freshness that he doubted he had ever seen before. It was truly remarkable that the repair crews had managed such a pristine job on an otherwise derelict vessel.

"Commander on deck," came a voice from the center of the room, causing those few soldiers present to snap to attention at the sight of Duren.

Here was a gesture that Duren believed he would never grow fully accustomed to. Holding the rank of gul for several years had granted him many such gestures, yet he still felt that such things were unnecessary. He was merely a soldier, doing what he could to ensure the stability of his people.

Out of that respect came an odd feeling as he was regarded by his crew. It wasn't merely this mindset that bore him this feeling, but also all that he had just been through. Having been considered a traitor and dragged through the mud before Natima and the rest of the Detapa Council had listened to reason; Duren had hardly expected anyone to pay him tribute again. Still, there was a part of him that welcomed such admiration.

"At ease," the Cardassian commander said before crossing the bridge and examining a newly installed chair in the room's center. Outwardly it appeared no different than his last, or any other that certainly was installed throughout the fleet. Easing down into its leather recesses he knew the similarities ended in appearance, as it felt alien to his touch.

"Sir," came a voice as unfamiliar to Duren as the chair, breaking into the commander's thoughts as he tried to adjust himself to the new furniture.

Pulling his gaze away from all of the repairs that had been done to the Alvex and resting it on the man that had suddenly gotten his attention, Duren took in the face of a tall soldier, who he did not recognize. Noticing the rank insignia pinned to his uniform then Duren's thoughts on the man changed quickly.

"Our status report, sir," the executive officer said as he handed Duren a P.A.D.D. containing the list of repairs that the Alvex had undergone, as well as the crew compliment.

Taking the small device in his hand the Cardassian commander couldn't help but to merely brush his attention upon it before focusing back on the soldier before him. Broad shoulders framed the man's body as the rest of his muscular girth filled out the leather uniform, giving the large man a daunting appearance. Seeing this man come charging at you across a battlefield would certainly spell out your own demise, yet nothing of his appearance is what Duren focused on as he spoke his next words.

"And you are?" he questioned, though he already knew full well what this man's role was, despite not understanding why he had been so placed.

"Glinn Namret," the powerful man replied. When it became obvious that Duren was looking for a fuller answer, he added "Your new first officer, sir."

"Yes, yes I know," Duren hastily replied. "But what happened to Glinn Ekryt?" Ekryt was a fine officer that had served aboard the Alvex for many years, never once bemoaning his position on the ship. Niradryx had cost the Galor vessel the lives of several crew members, but Duren knew the glinn had not been one of them. In fact, his memory told him that the soldier had returned from the battle unscathed.

"Sir, Ekryt requested a transfer," was Namret's trained voice reply. "Apparently he wanted to pursue something in military logistics."

Ekryt had wanted a desk job. That was what Namret really meant by his statement, as anyone who would enter into such a tedious department as military logistics pursued such a commission for reasons other than career advancement.

Duren could not fault Ekryt for wanting to step away from the tides of war and settle into a less hazardous career on the stable grounds of Cardassia Prime. Anyone with half a sane mind would find themselves headed for the large tan office building given the chance between it and charging into unknown battles against the Romulans. That is, anyone but Duren. While he did not enjoy being tossed to the wolves so often, he was determined to remain steadfast in his position. Someone had to be willing to dedicate their life to the Romulan's downfall, and Duren was simply too loyal to his people and his home to consider doing anything other than protecting them.

"Very well," Duren muttered to his new executive officer. Replacing such a fine soldier as Ekryt was a hard thing to do, and would take some time to adjust. "Carry on." There a sharp click of boots as Namret gave a quick gesture of respect to his new commander before leaving Duren's presence to attend to other matters.

Left alone in the bridge's center, Duren eased back into his chair. Again, he found his gaze drawn to the sheer newness that the Alvex now conveyed. Fingering the P.A.D.D. given to him he just enjoyed the feeling of the moment as it washed over him. Spending some time away from the politics and bloodshed of war had invigorated his otherwise sullen being, and seeing what was now his to command only increased the excitement he felt about charging back into the fight against their deadly Romulan foe.

Before he fell too deeply into his emotions a voice suddenly barged into them. "Sir, we are receiving a hail," came a young officer's voice.

"Put it on screen."

The fresh view screen changed its view of Cardassia Prime's surface to the stone faced expression of a Cardassian soldier. Duren recognized the man as being with military intelligence, though his name escaped the gul's mind. Out of respect he rose from his chair and took a step forward.

"Gul Duren," the officer tonelessly greeted. "I trust that the Alvex has completed its repairs and is ready to get underway."

Having the sudden urge to glance back at his chair and the P.A.D.D. that now rested upon it, Duren merely replied "Ready and willing." In truth Duren was unaware of the exact status of his vessel, having not yet done anything more than skim the finer details from Namret's report. If what he had seen since beaming aboard was any indication, then the Alvex was in the best condition since it had first been constructed.

"That is very good to hear." A pause came as both soldiers waited for the other to speak. Finally, the steely officer on the screen broke the silence. "Your orders then are to report to the Lao'Delk sector where Gamma Squadron has assembled. Further orders are being sent to your database now." With that the comms line was cut, leaving Duren no opportunity to either object or accept the new orders.

The fact that the Alvex was needed so quickly to rejoin the war was something that Duren admittedly had mixed emotions about. On one hand he was eager to leave behind the political strife of the past month to do something more meaningful to help his people. With a fresh vessel he was also excited to see what it was now capable of.

Yet, he couldn't help but to wonder if the vessel was indeed ready for this mission; especially if it entailed combat against the Romulans. The Alvex might be glistening with a fresh coat of paint, but they would need more than a bright sheen to hold the Romulans at bay. These were his orders though, and he wasn't about to disobey them.

Moving back across the room he returned to his chair and noticed every officer present had their attention fixed solely on him. Were he another man, this unwavering attention may have made him paranoid. As it was he simply brushed it off as he began to pass along orders.

"Signal the shipyard to disengage all docking clamps, and make sure all airlocks are closed and secured. Helm, once the station releases us give me one quarter impulse until we break orbit. Increase to full warp once we're clear, and set course for the Lao'Delk sector."

The following moments unfolded as though everything was a well-tuned machine. Cardassian soldiers were indeed living and feeling beings, but coursing through them was years of military training that left each of them as capable as any single person could be. Duren's orders were dispatched throughout the Cardassian vessel, and in response the Alvex crew went about sealing their vessel and preparing for whatever mission they were going to embark on.

Outside of the Galor class vessel several tiers of scaffolding folded away, followed by a docking connector that shrank back from the warship towards the shipyard's central structure. Left to float free just above the Cardassian home world, there came a bright glow from the ship's engines before it pushed away from where it had spent the past month. All around them buzzed smaller vessels and repair crews, watching on as the Alvex prepared to leave them behind. Once they were clear of the flotsam there was a slight hesitation as the helm officer switched from impulse engines to warp, before the warship sped off in a breathtaking display of brilliance.

Watching as the view screen was dotted by points of light that streamed by the Cardassian vessel, Duren's thoughts drifted in curiosity over what their orders were. Looking around the bridge there was a busy atmosphere conveyed as each officer present remained focused at their assigned stations. He knew that it would be several hours before the Alvex arrived in the Lao'Delk sector, even traveling at maximum warp. "Glinn Namret," he beckoned over his shoulder.

"Yes sir?"

"I'll be in my office going over the mission details. Don't disturb me until we have arrived in the Lao'Delk sector." With that Duren turned on his heels and exited the gleaming bridge, leaving Namret and the rest of his crew to tend to their duties.

Inside of his office Duren had to take a moment to adjust. Like every other part of the Alvex that he had seen his office seemed to glow with a fresh coat of paint; while the flawless design work impressed him. It was an inspiring thing to take in, yet something seemed missing.

Crossing the room he thought about what the office around him could possibly be void of. The carpeting appeared to be newly installed. Not a single mark could be seen anywhere on the gray colored walls. Easing himself into his office's chair, which was as new and unfamiliar as everything else, he let his mind focus on the fours walls around him; feeling as though such an action would reveal what his instincts believed was different around his surroundings. It didn't take long before he discovered what had changed about the room.

His office lay bare as he sat staring. For all of his life Duren had been an avid fan of art, especially those created by his people. This appreciation was something that had made itself known in every aspect of his life, including his military part. Before Niradryx, the walls of his office had been covered by several paintings done by noted Cardassian artists. Without them he realized just how dull and uniformed the Alvex was. Once they had completed their mission then he made a note to buy some new paintings to display. Perhaps even by Dukat's daughter Ziyal, who was proving herself to be quite a budding talent.

Any such excursions would only come after the mission that the Alvex had been sent on. Stroking a few keys in front of his desktop monitor, Duren had the computer search the database for the orders they had received, and waited for the terminal to display the message. A sneer made its way onto his face as the computer finished its task, and an image of Natima graced the screen.

"Gul Duren," the woman tonelessly began. "Once the Alvex rendezvous with Gamma Squadron in the Lao'Delk sector, you are to assume command of the task force. According to reports, there is a Romulan mining operation in the Gre'kari system. Your orders are to destroy the operation at all costs, then return to Cardassia Prime. Do not engage any Romulan vessels unless absolutely necessary. For the sake of our people, you must succeed." With that the screen dimmed and the woman's face was replaced by a long range scan of the target system.

Nothing short of utter surprise washed over the gul as he tried to absorb everything Natima had just said. When he had been told that new orders awaited him, then he had hardly expected those orders to come from Natima Lang. Considering everything that the two had been through over the past month the gul could find no reason why the woman would entrust him with a mission; especially a mission of consequence.

Not only had she given him a mission, but also the authority to take command of Gamma Squadron the moment the Alvex entered the Lao'Delk sector. Even though he had worked with her extensively for the good of Cardassia Prime, Duren still hadn't been left with the impression that she trusted him. If this was in fact the case then what would compel her to lay such a responsibility on his shoulders?

Thinking over this question, another possibility slipped into his mind. Last year the Alvex had been sent to the Venru sector on the order of Natima and the Detapa Council. At least, that is what Duren had believed. In truth the order had come through the woman's office by way of his friend. Knowing how convincing that order had been, the Cardassian gul had to consider that the same thing was happening again. If it was so hard to imagine that Natima had entrusted such a task to him, then he had to wonder if the whole thing was another rouse planted by someone for purposes he could only guess at.

Only a few heartbeats were devoted to the possibility before he shoved it away. While it was possible to forge the order and make it seem genuine, Duren had a hard time believing that was the case. Before, the order had been sent on an encrypted subspace channel, and was restricted to a few typed words. In this instance the order had apparently been sent directly from military command, and consisted of an actual recording of the woman. To create a hoax of this magnitude could only come with considerable effort, which was something he hoped no one was desperate enough for.

Letting the question about the order's authenticity fall away, he then had to consider what exactly the order entailed. Gamma Squadron was a well known, and highly honored, task force. Over forty-two separate successful campaigns had been attributed to them, all coming at very few losses. During the war, Gamma Squadron had been a shining example of just how tactful Cardassians could be when the need arose.

Knowing the squadron's record caused some hesitation within Duren. How was he expected to lead this elite group into combat? Certainly his own record was pale in comparison to any commander found with the squadron, yet the Detapa Council had left the responsibility of command squarely on his shoulders. It was an honor he hardly felt deserving of.

Beyond any admiration for the infamous squadron was a gnawing curiosity over the mission they were expected to complete. The Gre'kari system was as foreign to Duren as any piece of space could be. Other than it was under the control of the Star Empire, not a single fact about the system was known by him.

Tapping on his office's computer brought up a file containing every scrap of intelligence that had been gathered on the system. Located far from the border between Klingon and Romulan space had allowed the small five planet system to evade aggression by both sides. Aside from the mining operation on the third planet's moon then nothing of importance seemed to be contained within the system.

Going back to the long range scans that had replaced Natima's face, he carefully studied the layout that was displayed. Gre'kari seemed as vacant and innocuous as any system Duren had come across. Nothing seemed to be present in the sector, aside from where the Romulan mining operation was based.

Around this moon were dozens of indistinguishable tiny specks floating in orbit; probably weapons platforms. Other than these stations there were no other signs of life on the readout. No starbases, no shipyards, not even a single vessel. The sheer emptiness confused Duren, as he couldn't imagine that the Romulans would leave a sector so vulnerable. Especially a sector that, while a fair distance from the border, was still within range for an Alliance attack.

Over the next couple hours as the Alvex made its way to the Lao'Delk sector, Duren spent the duration in his office; studying the details that concerned their mission and weighing the consequences in his mind. Several facts were gleaned from this careful process. For one, he was able to determine that it was deuterium that the Romulans carefully mined on the Gre'kari moon. Used as a fuel source for their vessels made the gas a useful, if not abundant, product.

Beyond the available information that Duren studied in regards to the Gre'kari sector, he also spent some time catching up on the latest news from the frontlines. Few on Cardassia Prime were given the chance to know every battle and every power shift that occurred during the daily bloodshed. Finer details were ultimately ones that the average citizen was indifferent towards. This plus the fact that the rush of activity following Dukat's exonerations had kept Duren busy caused the gul to neglect reading about the activities of his fellow soldiers.

Now with a moment of spare time, the Cardassian soldier immersed himself in every report that was on file. Both hard fought victories and miserable defeats were presented for Duren's leisure, to which he eagerly read them all. At times he was so focused on the reports that nothing would have been able to tear him away, while in other instances he become so troubled by what he read that he forced himself to step away and pace around before resuming.

At one point he felt the need for a drink. Stepping across his office, he found himself staring at the newly installed replicator. Ever since he had been a child Duren hadn't thought much of the device; believing that the finest things were still created by using one's hands. Over the course of his life he had grown to hold a less harsh stance about it, yet still avoid its use whenever he could. Telling the computer that he wanted an Antarian Cider, he patiently waited as an electric hum came to his ears before a small glass of the tart juice materialized before him.

With his drink in hand he returned to his desk and continued reading, hoping that amidst the reports and listings he could find something that would prove worth his time as he readied himself for the mission ahead. Time slipped away as he immersed himself in the reports and Duren was scarcely aware of just how long he spent before his computer terminal, reading over everything that presented itself. Somewhere between the latest deployments of the Breen forces and a Romulan advance in the Tago'ri sector he was brought back to reality as he felt the Alvex slow.

Spending so much time on a planet for the past month had left him acutely aware of the Alvex's movements, so it didn't come as a surprise when the next moment brought a soft chime and Namret's voice over the comms system telling him that they had arrived in the Lao'Delk sector. Downing the last drops of his cider Duren merely stood from his chair and stepped out onto an awaiting bridge.

The mood of the surrounding crew seemed unchanged since the Alvex had broken Cardassia orbit, though Duren hardly expected any change to have occurred. Each of the officers present had served for many years and fought many battles over the course of the war. These experiences instilled them with a sense of duty that could never be taught by any professor at the military training grounds.

From these hardened soldiers came an atmosphere that Duren admittedly enjoyed. Though war was hardly something he thrived on, there was a certain disciplined attitude that came from people in preparation of a battle that he could appreciate it. Soaking all of this in, he stepped in front of his command chair and firmly planted his feet before commanding "Put Gamma Squadron on screen."

A few carefully pressed buttons carried out this order until a series of Cardassian vessels flooded the view screen. Several who looked on were taken aback by the sight, including Duren. The reputation that preceded Gamma Squadron was much heralded in the Cardassian Empire, and to find yourself in the presence of such soldiers demanded that one take a moment to give due respect.

Nearly fifty vessels made up the squadron, including Galor class warships and Voral class cruisers. In addition to these powerful vessels was a pair of Heroti carriers, each designed to carry close to thirty Hideki class fighters. This was a squadron gunned for war, for the annihilation of any enemy that dared to defy Cardassia. Gazing at the impressive array of ships it was easy for Duren to believe every tale that had ever been told about the squadron's war record. He became lost in his stare, and his admiration, until a voice shook him; relaying that a hail was incoming.

After Duren gave a quick acknowledgment of the signal a narrow faced Cardassian appeared on the screen. "I am Gul Temir, commander of the warship Reglik, and Gamma Squadron." Temir paused on this word, as though he expected Duren to reply in the same manner. When the Alvex's gul made no such gesture, a sneer graced his compatriot's face before he added "We have received our orders from the Detapa Council."

Pleased that Temir, and by extension the whole of Gamma Squadron, had been informed of their assigned task then Duren simply replied with "Shall we be on our way then?"

The question was obviously one that Temir distasted, as the look on his face became even worse. Whatever his reasons for this reaction were, he kept them private before giving a slight nod. "That would be the best course of action," was his reply in an annoyed tone.

Ignoring his fellow gul's demeanor Duren merely turned from the view screen and addressed his officers. "Signal the fleet to set course for the Gre'kari sector, maximum warp."

While those under his direct command went about following his orders, Duren returned his attention to the view screen before him, and the face of the waiting Temir. Before he had the chance to close the channel then the Cardassian soldier on the screen took it upon himself to speak.

"If I may, Duren," Temir began. Another heartbeat passed in stillness before his true intent was spoken. "I would appreciate a word with you."

"Of course, Temir," came Duren's reply in an accommodating tone.

"In private."

There was an odd way that the man's words rolled off his tongue. Nothing about them Duren could easily identify, yet they didn't sit well with him. Still, he saw no reason to deny his comrade this request. "As you wish," he stated before the channel was closed and the screen once again was covered by blurry points of light.

Moving towards his office's doors once more, there was a wisp of his own annoyance that flickered into Duren's mind. Having spent the entire journey to Lao'Delk in seclusion caused him to be far from eager to return. In a time of war a commander's place was on the bridge, vigilant of his crew and ready for battle at a moment's notice. Now that the Alvex was actually heading into conflict then his need to stay in the vessel's command center was even further necessary. Temir seemed as though something important weighed on his mind, and for that reason alone Duren removed himself from where he was needed. After all, the last thing he wanted in the ensuing battle was a distracted commander.

Returning to his chair Duren closed the files that he had focused on earlier and requested an open channel with the Reglik. Once this was accomplished he eased back and waited for Temir to do the same. Only a few seconds ticked away before the two guls found themselves face to face once more.

"What did you wish to speak about, Temir?"

Hesitation came through the Cardassian's worn features as it became evident that he worked to discern the precise words he would use. In this stillness Temir moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue. Finally, he just flat out asked "What right do you have to take over my squadron?"

What right? This question was one that Duren repeated in his mind as he recalled the doubts he had over such a move. While this was something that he had considered himself, he knew it would be unwise to mention any wavering thoughts to Temir. Instead, he merely replied with "The Detapa Council gave me the right."

No longer surrounded by loyal soldiers, Temir felt the restraints he had imposed on himself earlier weren't needed. This left him to show the full contempt he felt over the situation as Duren mentioned the Cardassian ruling council.

"You do not seriously intend to justify your appointment with those bureaucrats do you?" When Duren could come up with no response to this allegation then Temir's lips curled ever further in disgust. "Do you really believe your new title as hero to the Cardassian people should grant you certain privileges from the Detapa Council?" On this final question Temir crossed his arms and flattened them against his chest as he waited for a reply.

The title of hero was one that Duren had no clue about. He had never been thought of in such high regard by anyone before, and in hearing Temir's claim that he indeed was thought of one only further confused the Cardassian gul. It was an emotional state that he couldn't hide as he forced himself to ask "A hero? For what?"

Duren's question was not the reply that Temir wanted to hear, a fact that became instantly apparent by the look that now fell upon his face. "For what?" came the man's words with further contempt. "Certainly you aren't about to feign ignorance to me."

Another still moment drifted away as Duren sat staring at Temir's image on his screen. He wanted to give his compatriot a response, but without knowing full well the basis for Temir's words then he was forced to blankly stare at the man, wondering what would be said next.

As Temir sat aboard his own vessel, he waited for some sort of justification to come from Duren about his words and the Detapa Council's appointment. Nothing came from the gul though, which only further frayed Temir's worn emotions. "Don't try to pretend that you aren't aware of your new status as the man who brought home Dukat. I don't believe the guise," was his cold accusation.

While he could understand everyone attributing the title of hero to Dukat, a title rightly earned, there didn't seem much of a point to Duren for himself to be bestowed such an honor. All he did was bring a wrongly exiled man and his daughter back home. It was something that he felt honor bound to do for anyone, although he couldn't help but to take a certain pride in knowing that he had been able to do so much for his personal hero.

Nothing even close to Dukat's many feats were found in Duren's record, nor was the fact that he righted a severe injustice to the Cardassian people a task that Duren felt praiseworthy. Everything he had done over the course of his career, and his life, were things that he did solely for the benefit of all Cardassia. There was nothing other than fulfilling his duty that caused his life to take the path that it had, and it was something that he hoped no Cardassian citizen would hesitate in doing if given the chance.

"Well?" abruptly came Temir's voice. It had become obvious that the man expected some sort of response to come from Duren, and yet all the gul had done was question his own actions while seeking a reason behind his newfound fame.

Instead of questioning whether or not he was truly a hero, Duren decided to take a different approach with Temir. "I only did what I felt was the correct course of action in regards to Dukat." Before Temir could raise his voice again in protest Duren merely held up his hand and continued on. "But neither he nor any recognition that I might have received were the causes for my orders to lead Gamma Squadron into battle in the Gre'kari system. I'm sure the Detapa Council had their own reasons for the orders that they gave, but as soldiers it is not our place to question orders; only follow them."

"So we are to follow them blindly then, is that it?" None of his disgust in regards to the current situation lessened in his tone as Temir asked this. "Do you even know what is in the Gre'kari system, what our mission really is?"

"I know enough about the system to make certain that our mission is a success," Duren casually said, hoping to cover up just how ignorant he was about things in this instance.

Despite his efforts, there was nothing behind Duren's words that convinced Temir that the gul knew full well the situation they were getting themselves into. "Gamma Squadron is one of the most elite forces in the Cardassian fleet. Our soldiers are battle hardened, and our vessels' kill records are greater than any other group in the fleet."

"And?" Although he hardly meant to sound arrogant, these facts were ones that Duren was very much aware of. From his perspective the only reason that Temir would bring these up was to gloat, which was something Duren felt wouldn't help in the least.

"And?" echoed Temir with impatience. "And this mission that we have been sent on to the Gre'kari system is hardly a proper use of Gamma Squadron's resources."

Having only a small bit of knowledge about where they were headed, Duren hardly felt in the position to weigh Temir's words accurately. Instead of outright asking the man to explain himself, and possibly expose just how limited his own information was on the region, he decided to play on the man's pride to see what exactly he could gain. "Wouldn't any mission in the service of Cardassia and the Alliance be worth your time, Temir?"

Anger flushed Temir's face as his eyes narrowed, staring back at Duren. "Do not try to goad me here, Duren. We both know that a mission as easy as destroying a minor harvesting operation in the Gre'kari system would best be given to a task force with a little less importance placed on them."

"And give the Romulans the chance to repel our attack?" Duren furthered. "No, I think that Gamma Squadron is the perfect task force to ensure that our campaign is a successful one."

"There are only a small number of weapons platforms in the system to defend it! The Romulans don't have a single ship within five sectors, and they have no idea we are coming. We would be better off passing the mission along to the Breen or the Ferengi, and devoting our resources on more vital targets."

Though Duren could understand Temir's point, he hardly felt in the place to question the orders of the Detapa Council. "Any chance we get to strike a blow against the Romulans is a chance I am happy to take. This war has gone on for so long. It needs to be ended, soon, and if there is a way that we can bring a quicker demise to the Star Empire then shouldn't we take it?" On that statement he crossed his own arms in a gesture to show his fellow gul how resolute he was in his stance.

Temir appeared as though he had been backed into a corner, where only an agreement would bring resolution, yet still he opened his mouth to reply. Before he had the chance to voice anymore concerns, a noise suddenly came from off screen and tore his attention away. When his gaze returned he simply said, "I'm needed on the bridge. We can finish this conversation after the mission is completed." With that the channel was closed and Duren was left to sit in his office alone.

Although he was now free to return to the bridge and await their arrival in the Gre'kari system, Duren felt he couldn't do so just yet. His conversation with Temir had done more than allow his appointment to be questioned and his command abilities attacked. In listening to the concerns that the Reglik commander had then he couldn't help but to question what exactly the Gre'kari system offered, and what their mission entailed.

Bringing up the Intel gathered on the remote system once more, he began to scrutinize every detail. Temir had been correct in that the system was seemingly without any combat vessels, nor were there any in the outlying regions. Long range sensor scans had determined the strength of the Romulan defense platforms that were stationed in orbit above the moon where the mining station was placed. Going over the layout of the platforms then Duren began to realize how inadequate the armaments were for repelling an assault.

For the entire course of the war Duren had fought against Romulans. Raids, colony attacks, even full on ship to ship assaults were accredited to him, yet he had never faced something like he faced now. Experience had taught him firsthand the depths of Romulan treachery, so considering this it was hard for him to believe that the destruction of the mining compound would be as easy as it appeared. Yet, there didn't seem to be any other explanation.

Accepting these raw facts about the mission inevitably brought him back to his fellow commander's original concerns. If taking out the Romulan mining operations in the Gre'kari system was really as easy as it appeared, then why send a full task force in; especially a force as strong and as decorated as Gamma Squadron? Surely there were any number of Cardassian squadrons that the Detapa Council had at their disposal, yet they chose this particular one to send in.

Something else occurred to him as he wondered about the defenses in place around Gre'kari's mining station. From what Duren had gathered, there seemed to be little risk involved in the mission. While it was some distance from Alliance territory, it was hardly unapproachable. Unless this station was recently discovered, which the amount of information gathered about it seemed to dismiss such a notion, then why would the Alliance choose now to attack it?

Over nearly a decade the Alliance and the Romulan Star Empire had been locked in a fierce struggle; first for dominance, and now merely survival. With stakes as high as the safety of every citizen that saluted your banner then Duren believed the Alliance would attack any and all targets of opportunity. Yet here this defenseless station had remained untouched for a number of years, asking to be destroyed while continuing to persevere. Questions seemed to stack up in the Cardassian soldier's mind the more he thought about the situation he had been tossed into.

In the same fashion as when the Alvex had been traveling to the Lao'Delk sector, Duren lost several hours in his office. Puzzled by the questions in his mind and encouraged by Temir's own doubts he memorized every gathered fact in regards to the Gre'kari system, as well as the neighboring systems. There had to be something that could shed at least a ray of clarity on the situation, yet the more he committed to memory then the less hope he had that he would find a satisfying answer.

Frustration began to bubble inside of him as he realized how pointless his search was. He was living in a time of war, and in war few things ever made sense. As a soldier he should have realized this, and accepted the orders of his superiors without question. This had been his stance before speaking with the Reglik's commander, and seeing that his frantic searching had all been the result of a commander who felt threatened by his presence caused Duren to curse under his breath.

Whether it had been intentional or not Temir had knocked him off balance. His newly rebuilt vessel, as well as nearly fifty other loyal Cardassian vessels, was on its way to a battle. The strength of the enemy they would be facing was irrelevant, only that a battle was about to be waged. To ensure that those under his command suffered as few casualties as possible then he would need to face the mission with a clear head, void of any lingering doubts. Shaking these doubts aside and resolving to commit himself totally to the destruction of the Romulan base, Duren rose from his chair and exited his office.

A number of hours remained before the squadron would arrive in the Gre'kari system. With some spare time on his hands Duren was finally given the chance to tour his freshly christened bridge. Not only did he get a better feel for the new bridge, which turned out to be far more alien than he expected, but he was also able to shift gears in his mind.

Focusing on the present bridge crew and the stations they manned he gave a nod of approval as he paced the circular room, inspecting everything he could. Around him was a mood that he was unaccustomed to. It wasn't something that was totally foreign, just void from his life during his time spent on Cardassia's surface. Almost tangible was an underlying tension from each of the officers present.

Duren grew uneasy by his own crew's nerves. Together they had faced unimaginable odds in more missions than anyone would care to count, yet his crew had never seemed as unnerved as they did now. Knowing that battle, and possibly one's own demise, waited on the horizon was something that would cause hesitation in any living and breathing soul. Yet, these soldiers had never expressed such a feeling before. It was something that Duren admittedly was unprepared for, and a wisp of concern entered his mind as he wondered how this tension would come into play once the Alvex came under fire.

In order to prepare himself for the battle that loomed ahead Duren had to push his crew's concerns, as well as all other concerns, to the back of his mind. Success of the mission would require his entire focus on the task at hand, not distracted by any personal demons those around him might be harboring. Despite sharing in any feelings of hesitation that might be coming from his crew, Duren knew that nothing could cause him to let his reservations show.

A warship commander was forced to always project an upright and strong image. Standing before an entire crew of eager soldiers that turned towards you for guidance and assurance might be a burden for some, but Duren tried to carry it as lightly as possible. He knew full well what was expected of him, as well as the consequences that would befall him were he to fail in his duties.

Throughout a soldier's training there was a resolute ideal that was ground into each recruit's mind. Loyalty and duty were the staples of Cardassian military, and these were things that Duren upheld without question. Forgoing any nagging feelings that he may have about a mission, or that his crew might have, his mind always found its way back to these things.

Taking a step forward he found himself at the weapons console. This station was one of the most used aboard the Alvex, especially considering the countless battles that Duren had led the warship in. Nothing in its appearance gave away its importance though, as it gleamed with a newness that had become common in the workings of the Galor class warship.

When he approached the station the soldier manning it was caught off guard. Traveling between star systems was slow time, more so for a weapons officer than anyone else. Unable to do anything of use for the moment the officer's mind had begun to drift away. Though he sat there only partially conscious, he had remained fully attuned to his surroundings; causing him to jump when his commander had suddenly decided to stand before him.

"I trust that the Alvex's weapons are on-line and ready to be deployed on my order?" Duren asked as he eyed the lax soldier.

Straightening himself in his station's chair, the soldier simply looked back at Duren and gave a nod of his head. "On your order," the officer added as he tapped in a few commands on the station's console and it blinked its readiness.

Duren didn't ask the officer out of a need to bring him to attention, but because the gul felt a need to be certain the Alvex's weapons were as prepared as her crew. With all of the armaments that Gamma Squadron had at their disposal then Duren planned to swiftly remove the Romulan presence from the Gre'kari system. In order to follow through on this as effectively as possible he realized that a coordinated effort was needed. He was about to speak with his weapons officer to this end, until suddenly a voice caught his attention.

"Sir," the voice simply said from the front of the bridge.

This single word proved to be enough to draw the Cardassian gul's attention toward where the helmsman sat. Placed beyond this officer lay the stretched view screen, showing what lay just outside the Alvex's reinforced hull. Slowly the blurry twinkles began to shrink and form into recognizable dots. Once the heavens nestled back into their normal places a new shape formed in the distance, and Duren realized they were now in the Gre'kari system.

Taking in the scope of what the Romulan territory truly offered he made his way back to the leather command chair. Instead of sitting down he merely stared at everything the screen showed him. Studying a map created from long range scans and seeing something in person were two vastly different experiences, but it wasn't until this moment that Duren began to realize just how wide the gap was.

Beside him Duren suddenly became aware of another presence. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed the uniformed bulk that was his new first officer. "Shall we wipe clean this system of its Romulan infestation, Namret?" he asked without pulling his gaze away from the screen.

"Indeed," was the only word that came in response.

On this word Duren sat down and took his place in the bridge's center. The moon that lay ahead seemed almost inviting, were it not for the weapons platforms that could be seen even from some distance away. No matter though, because they would be swiftly dealt with. Letting his tongue moisten his gray lips, Duren took a final moment for himself before he began his mission to wipe away every trace of the Romulan Empire this system contained.

"Open a channel to the fleet." Once this task was achieved he relayed orders to the vessels surrounding the Alvex. "I want two formations. Galor wings one through four, as well as Voral wings six through eighteen, will follow the Alvex's lead. The rest will take the Reglik's wing, with the exception of Voral wings nineteen and twenty. They will hold back and guard the two Heroti carriers. No need to scramble any fighters if we don't have to."

Following these commands was a series of short messages of acknowledgement before the fleet split down the center and lined up behind their respective flagships. From these two waves they would unleash a fiery demise upon the awaiting Romulan platforms, as well as whoever was on the moon's surface working to mine the deuterium. Smiling about his enemy's imminent destruction Duren relayed the single order to open fire the moment they were within range, before signaling the Alvex's helmsman to take them in at full impulse.

Approaching the Romulan platforms, Duren could do nothing but wait for the bloodshed to begin. In his mind flashed a list of facts about the Gre'kari system and the capabilities of the platforms they were going to engage. Nothing remarkable stood out about the Romulan weapons, yet Duren still saw no harm in going over the details once more before the chaos began.

A few waning seconds ticked by as the Cardassian gul remained seated, aware of Namret's presence beside him. Taking his gaze off of the screen for a moment he fixed it on his first officer and could see that something was troubling the man. In the rush to reach the Gre'kari system and deal with the Romulan base Duren had neglected to speak properly with his new executive officer. Even though this was hardly the time to correct this error he still felt the need to ask the hulking Cardassian what was on his mind, but he was never given the chance.

Suddenly the Alvex shook as the first Romulan platforms fired their payloads at the Cardassian fleet. Thanks to the Alvex's newly installed shield grid most of the weapons that impacted the Galor class vessel produced only the slightest vibration. Still, even with the diminished force, the Alvex's bridge crew suddenly sprang to life as adrenaline began pumping through their veins.

Set against the starry backdrop the Cardassian vessels closed in on their targets. Though the Romulan defense platforms were the first to spring into the battle, they were quickly overpowered as the two converging attack forces opened fire.

In a fashion that could only be described as graceful, each Cardassian vessel opened fire simultaneously. The resulting effect of so many ships suddenly coming to life in retaliation was something that surely would have been the perfect muse for any artist. Charged yellow-tinted phaser blasts mingled with the green colored disruptors fired by the Romulan stations, and became lost until impacting with a slight shimmer.

As he watched on from the safety of the bridge, Duren felt some frustration at witnessing the phaser blasts being denied their targets. Of course he expected such a countermeasure, but that knowledge did nothing to comfort him.

"Signal the other vessels to concentrate their fire," the Alvex's gul ordered as he watched on. Each vessel in the Cardassian fleet had been firing at whichever target seemed most appealing, resulting in the attacking vessels making little headway. Only by pooling their efforts then the line of platforms would be broken.

The closer that the Alvex was to the target then the more frequent the tremors were. Growing with intensity each forceful blast signaled just how quickly the Galor vessel's shields were depleting, and how the vessel would soon be vulnerable. Along with the increasing force came an increase in tension, as the bridge crew watched the Romulan weapons continue to defy the Cardassian fire.

Switching tactics proved to give the Cardassians the advantage they needed in the quickly unfolding battle. Instead of the entire Romulan line coming under small bouts of fire, and constantly able to reflect most of these blasts with their shielding, only a handful towards the center were now pressured into being vaporized. At first even this concentrated effort seemed as though it would prove ineffective, causing the on looking Cardassians' angst to grow tenfold.

Disbelief hung in their minds and their hearts threatened to stop beating as the line of Cardassian vessels and the line of Romulan stations were nearly on top of one another. Neither showed any sign of relenting in their respective attacks, and those aboard the attacking vessels wondered what it would take to end the Romulan threat for good. Just as quickly as this question entered their minds then it disappeared again with an answer.

One of the weapon platforms towards the center began to buckle as it came under fire from half a dozen Cardassian ships. Once the faintly shimmering barrier around it had been weakened into oblivion then it didn't take long before the station's plating dented and twisted away in a fiery blaze. This small glimmer of destruction only served to entice the station's attackers, who pressed their attack with a new ferocity until the Romulan construct disappeared in a flash of disintegration.

Quickly this single platform was joined by several of its compatriots as they were lit up in a series of explosions. Some of these explosions splashed into each other, making the bright orange plumes burn with even more intensity. Covering the Alvex's entire view screen was a brilliance unlike any the warship's crew had seen in a great while. Somewhere between the orange plumes and the dark green specks of plating they found a sense of accomplishment that they hadn't witnessed since their last mission in the Niradryx system, and strangely it was something that each of them had missed.

Aside from the sheer awe that this scene impressed upon anyone who took it in, there was also something else that had taken place. A gap had opened in the moon's defenses, and it was a gap that Duren fully intended to exploit as he ordered the weapons officer to shift his firing solution to the platforms nearest this opening. Without hesitation the soldier sent a few glowing torpedoes in the direction that his gul had commanded, and quickly these platforms were engulfed in flames as well.

Widening the rift, the two wings of Cardassian vessels pummeled the weakened defenses as quickly as their vessels would allow. The distance between the platforms and the Cardassian forces had been a small one when the fleet had warped into the system, yet it had taken longer to reach the defense line than they expected. With volleys of torpedoes and bursts of phasers being exchanged by the two aggressors then time seemed to crawl forward. Created by the frantic nature of battle then reality seemed to become distorted for those involved, but this distortion did not last out, as the Cardassian fleet descended upon the Romulan line.

Led by the Alvex and the Reglik, the two Cardassian formations charged through the gaps in the Romulan defensive line. One by one they approached it, passed through, and were forced to switch their firing solutions from their forward arrays to those in the aft sections. Rapidly the stationary targets began to fall behind them, forcing the Cardassian attackers to slow and turn about.

Made up of warships and heavy cruisers caused the fleet to be sluggish in its maneuvers. The entire time as they swung around to face their enemy they never once relented in their assault, though none of the arrays which now fired upon the Romulans were as powerful as those set on the forward sections of their vessel. It was mostly for this reason they moved to face the platforms head on once again, making certain to leave their best weapons available for striking down the enemy line.

Unlike the Cardassian ships, the Romulan stations had no trouble in returning fire. Disruptor turrets had been evenly installed across each station's outer hull plating, giving it the advantage of attacking an enemy full-on no matter where that enemy was placed.

All around Duren the Alvex began to shake, each tremor more violent than the last. His vessel's outer shielding was down to less than half its strength, and he began to question whether it would hold out for the rest of the battle. Ultimately this curiosity was unwarranted, because the Alvex would continue to fight on until either it was destroyed or the Romulans were.

The Alvex was not alone in this pummeling. Several over ships in the Cardassian line were beginning to see their own translucent shields begin to dim against the Romulan onslaught. Others were struck more fiercely, resulting in several small fires igniting wherever a green disruptor blast made contact with naked hull plating. Both sides seemed to be an equal of the other, yet the Cardassian soldiers hardly seemed aware of this fact.

Once the entire fleet of vessels had completed their maneuvers and stood facing head on with the Romulan defense stations, they released a fury of weapon fire, emptying torpedo tubes and depleting phaser banks against their nemesis. Slowly the attacking fleet made headway against the line of platforms, but not without a cost.

Nearly two thirds of the Romulan platforms had now been obliterated and wiped clean from the surrounding starscape, but the Cardassians wouldn't be satisfied until every last station lay in ruins. Not every Cardassian would be fortunate to survive until this moment, and Duren suddenly began to understand this as a pair of Voral cruisers were suddenly ignited and left to burn uselessly as their respective crews tried to flee.

Watching on Duren knew that the battle had to be ended as quickly as possible. A Galor vessel was set ablaze in the corner of the Alvex's screen as another handful of Romulan platforms met their demise as well. Only a scattered few of the defense stations remained, yet things hardly seemed to be going triumphantly for the Cardassians as should have been. Something was amiss in the battle, and the Alvex's gul became determined to sort the matter out quickly.

Rippling through the Alvex came a fresh tremor as it was struck dead on by another disruptor blast. Tapping a small computer alongside his command chair Duren called up a reading of the vessel's shielding, determined to see how much power remained. Noticing that the protective barrier was now only at fifteen percent Duren was about to move on to other matters, before something caught his eye.

In addition to showing just how strong the remaining shields were, his chair's inset computer also showed where the vessel's shields were being struck. Blinking, he just stared at the readout, making certain that what he saw was more than just an illusion. Seeing it again displayed on the screen confirmed something odd; they were being attacked from behind.

With this revelation Duren suddenly found himself rising from his chair and sweeping his gaze across the bridge. When he settled his focus on the sensor station he found a young officer staring back at him, awaiting orders. "Scan sector four-oh-nine," he ordered.

For a moment the only sound that filled the bridge was the rumbling impacts of Romulan weapons on the Alvex's barely managing shields. Joined by Namret and the rest of the bridge crew, Duren stared at the sensor officer, waiting for her report.

"I'm definitely picking up something," she said as her fingers frantically worked their way across the console.

"On screen," was Duren's curt order. Replacing the image of a crumbling Romulan defense line was empty space. At least, that is what it appeared to be at first. Staring at the screen each officer present began to wonder what exactly the sensors had picked up, until a fresh Romulan weapon platform appeared on the screen. Its appearance was brief, but it was more than enough time to fire a single disruptor blast before cloaking itself once again.

The Romulans had constructed a second defensive line, this one outfitted with cloaking technology! Not a soul among the Cardassian crew was able to hide their shock at this startling revelation, as it was a tactic they had never seen employed over the course of the long and bloody war.

"How are we going to defeat that?" Namret whispered to his commander as he suddenly took a step forward to stand beside Duren.

In honest Duren was still trying to absorb this new tactic as the battle played out around him. The Romulan cloaking technology had been the single greatest advantage that had kept the green blooded aliens from having to submit to Alliance control. They had only used the advantage on their vessels though, never the unmanned platforms that dotted their border possessions. He didn't know if they could be defeated, but he knew they had to be. Some way, some how, they had to be destroyed as well; lest everything they had lost so far been in vain.

"Order the ships to turn and face the cloaked platforms!" Duren yelled as a loud tremor came from the Alvex's plating, signaling that its thin protective shielding had been depleted of power.

With the primary line of defense stations now smoldering in memory, the Cardassian fleet was able to turn and face their new threat. As before, they had difficulty in swinging about, while being struck by a constant barrage of disruptor blasts. The resolve of the Cardassian fleet came under fire as several vessels met their fate at the hands of a cloaked foe.

One Voral was split down the center as a disruptor blast dissected it, letting the inner decks become exposed to the vacuum of space. Another Galor was turned into debris as several platforms struck at it without mercy. Not only were the Cardassian vessels taking damage from the Romulan platforms, but also from each other, as the tight formations caused scattering debris to collide with friendly vessels.

Over a third of the Cardassian fleet was now decimated. To Duren's grim dismay he noticed that the Reglik was one of the recent casualties of the fight, and he couldn't help but to wonder if Temir was surviving in an escape pod or if his soul had passed on from the chaos. Whatever the end result was Duren became even more determined to destroy every Romulan in the sector as the Alvex completed its turn and faced this new threat.

Duren didn't even have to give the order before his weapons officer began firing at the cloaked platforms. Unlike the first wave, this wave proved to be far more difficult. Not because the individual stations were any more advanced than their predecessors, but rather because their constant shifting between cloak and decloak made it impossible for a weapons lock.

The Alvex wasn't alone in its difficulties in striking the enemy line. A handful of yellow charged blasts made their mark and caused the corresponding weapons platforms to shimmer in response, but the vast majority of Cardassian fire continued on into oblivion. During this attempt each of the Romulan stations had no difficulties as they continued to tear the Cardassian fleet to shreds.

Watching on, Duren realized that they wouldn't be able to survive much longer under these conditions. An exploding console from somewhere behind him echoed this sentiment. Daring to search his own brain for only a moment, he grunted his frustration as nothing came to him. Instead of wasting any further time on the matter he returned his attention to his awaiting executive officer.

"Namret," he said in as hushed of a tone as was allowed. "We have to find a weakness in these platforms to destroy them; quickly."

A nod came from the large Cardassian, who then appeared to retreat into his own mind. There Namret found every bit of information that he had gleaned from field reports, hoping that somewhere amidst so much useless data laid a fact that would prove useful. Astonishment washed over his face as suddenly an answer came to him.

"Sir," came a whisper directed at Duren. "The cloaking field."

"What about it?" Duren abruptly asked back, wondering what exactly Namret was getting at.

"I remember reading an intelligence report once that said Romulan cloaks require an enormous amount of energy output to maintain. Each of their vessels is fitted with induction phase coils to regulate this energy." Pausing, he hoped Duren could now see what he was getting at. When nothing of recognition was shown on the gul's face Namret added "Those platforms aren't big enough to incorporate those coils."

Inside of his mind Duren took each of these tidbits, pulled them apart, and tried to see how they fit together. Connecting the dots he began to see where the glinn was going by telling him this, and the same look of astonishment now graced his own face.

"They must have a station to channel the power for the defensive cloaks!" he couldn't help blurting out in such a hushed tone that only the soldier beside him heard.

"If we take out that station, none of the platforms will have the energy required to cloak," Namret added, confirming his commander's statement. "It won't neutralize any of them, but at least it will give us the chance to hit them with our weapons."

Soaking this new information in a new course of action quickly formed in his mind. Every soldier in the Alliance that had given Romulan specs more than a passing glance knew that their cloaking fields gave off a significant amount of neutron radiation. Their ships had been designed to negate as much emissions as possible, but a station may be another matter entirely.

Pulling his gaze away from the view screen, Duren approached the sensor console. Keeping his eyes low he worked in his mind how exactly to use the radiation emissions to his advantage. Another tremor vibrated through the plating around him and a bulkhead whined slightly, threatening to give way. Both of these only caused the gul to quicken his pace and realize just how much in danger of failure the Cardassian fleet was.

For the entire time that Duren crossed the bridge the soldier manning the sensors focused on him. In a stationary battle sensors were hardly in high demand, causing her curiosity to pique as to why her commanding officer approached her.

"Soldier," came a general acknowledgement from Duren the moment he found himself to be standing before the officer. "Can you scan for dense pockets of neutron radiation?"

This question left the officer confused, which became very evident in the look she now wore. It was something she couldn't imagine her commanding officer would ask her, but instead of wondering why she merely turned her thoughts onto the how. Tapping a few keys on the console before her, she nodded an affirmative and began to follow through on the order.

Sweeping the Alvex's sensors across the battlefield, several small blips appeared on the console's inset screen. None of these appeared to be what the commander was searching for, as every new sensor echo left his face vacant of satisfaction. The sensor officer wasn't exactly certain what Duren was searching for, but as the scans were completed she became certain that it wasn't nearby.

Not a single indication was found that the station generating power for the cloaked platforms was on the battlefield. Without its location there was no way for them to destroy it, and thus, cripple the platforms that continued to obliterate the Cardassian forces. They needed to neutralize the threat these cloaked platforms clearly were, before Gamma Squadron was so weakened as to no longer be able to complete their mission.

Duren could feel his hand curling into a first as his eyes wandered over the readout scans once more. He knew that in order for the platforms to be receiving as much energy as their cloaks required then the power station had to be nearby, yet according to the Alvex's scans it was nowhere to be found. Trying to determine how exactly the Romulans had managed to keep the station hidden from sensors, he bit his lip in frustration, until an idea struck him.

The Alvex's sensors had been busy sifting through the chaos between the Cardassian vessels and the Romulan platforms, leaving a large piece of real estate to be unexplored; the moon surface. In the rush of clearing a path to the Romulan mining operation they had overlooked the most obvious place where their foe could have placed the power station. He would have chided himself for this oversight, were it not for the fact that another disruptor hit shook the vessel around him and kept his mind on track.

"Recalibrate the sensors to scan the moon's surface," he ordered as he was forced to hold onto the console before him as another fierce tremor rippled through the Galor vessel.

Unlike before, not a single beat of hesitation entered the Cardassian soldier's mind as she reset the sensors to adjust for the moon's surface. Initiating the scan, she watched the readout closely until a large blip suddenly appeared. "Sir, I've found it!" she blurted out.

Maneuvering his way around the console Duren couldn't help but stare at the readout for himself, verifying that what he had been searching for had indeed been found. Built next to the main building of the mining complex was an ordinary and pale green structure that, according to sensors, was buried in layers of neutron radiation.

Though his target had been found, it still wasn't something the gul believed he should celebrate. By planting the power station on the moon's surface next to their objective then it firmly placed it out of reach.

Duren's entire reason for seeking out the platforms' energy source was to neutralize them, and cut a clear path for Gamma Squadron to bombard the moon's mining complex. If the power source was located here as well, behind the line of defense stations, then what purpose would it serve in forcing them to power down? Clearly this had been taken into consideration when the Romulans had deployed these platforms.

Without anything new from his commander, Namret took the opportunity to approach the man. Though he would never outright question a commanding officer, his nature did cause him to wonder what their next move was going to be, and he couldn't help but to let his tongue slip as he voiced this concern.

Namret's abrupt question caught Duren off guard, as the revelation concerning the platforms' power source had caused him to retreat back into his mind. It was a fair question; one that Duren had at the moment as well, and one that needed an answer quickly. Once he turned to face his executive officer then it was clear that the large man was oblivious to the predicament. Pulling him in close so that no one in the crew could hear he muttered, "We can't get to the power generator. It's on the moon's surface."

Instantly Namret understood what this meant for their efforts against the Romulans. A line of weapon platforms were standing between them and a successful campaign, yet since they were equipped with cloaking devices then they could hardly be brushed aside so easily. Still, there had to be a way to circumvent the Romulan defenses in this instance. Every wall had its crack to exploit; all they had to do was find it.

With every part of the Romulan strategy now exposed for his examination the Alvex gul tried to determine where he could punch through and bring about a quick and decisive victory. His determination had carried him into impossible odds over the course of the war, always to come out triumphant on the other side. If only some of that determination could be transformed into inspiration then a new strategy might come to him.

Adjacent to the screen on the console was a second screen that was covered with readings from every Cardassian vessel in the fleet. Dismay continued to grow inside of him as he watched a registry number slip off the screen, signaling the ship's destruction. Taking in the number for each vessel left in Gamma Squadron, something occurred to him. Not all of their pieces were on the board yet. Realizing this, a new rush of hope came to him.

Pushing away from the sensor console, Duren marched towards the bridge's center with new vigor. His fresh attitude was apparent to every soldier that was stationed on the bridge, causing several of them to look up and Namret to follow a step behind. Once Duren had regained his place next to the leather command chair he looked over his shoulder at the glinn.

"I want Voral wings nineteen and twenty, as well as the two Heroti carriers, to break off and join the fight," Duren ordered before the comms officer worked to relay the message.

"What good will a few more vessels do against the cloaked platforms?" softly came Namret's voice. A look of concern was flecked in the glinn's eyes, as he saw his commander's order as nothing more than a senseless waste of lives.

Gul Duren was not about to be defeated so easily. Not by the Romulans, and not by any doubts that those around him may be harboring. If they were going to claim success in this campaign then he knew it would require every vessel he had at his disposal. That, and a strategy that was a far cry from those he studied in textbooks at the academy.

Ignoring Namret's concerns he stared ahead, noting the fresh dots that were just coming into range of the battle. Under his breath he counted down as the distance was rapidly diminished. "Almost….almost…." he muttered. Blinking away a drop of sweat he watched on until they were in position before suddenly commanding, "Order the carriers to launch all of their fighters."

When the order was received the bulging pair of vessels halted in their approach, creasing down the forward bow. An inviting blue glow came from these openings, until they were blotted out by a rush of tiny dots. The insect sized vessels came together, forming a deadly swarm that now came headfirst at the crumbling Cardassian line.

For only a moment Duren indulged himself by staring at the magnificent Hideki fighters, before turning to face the Alvex's weapons console. Namret continued to follow closely on his commander's heels as Duren approached the console, working in his mind the necessary details his plan needed to be a success. Settling things in his mind, a smile briefly showed on his face.

Without a word he positioned himself behind the weapons console, brushing aside the soldier who had manned the post moments ago. It wasn't that he felt the officer couldn't handle the task at hand, but it was something he preferred to do himself. A task of this nature needed a personal touch, and as the commanding officer then those around him could do nothing but silently comply.

Although he had no problems complying with his commander in a battle crisis, Namret simply could not wrest himself of the curiosity that was rampant in his mind. Placing a hand on the console next to Duren's as they tapped away, he felt an obligation to ask. "What do you have in mind, sir?"

"Watch," was the only word that came from the man as he lost his focus to his hands as they danced across the console's various controls.

Issuing orders to the battered remnants of the Cardassian task force, Duren began to see his plan take shape. Galor and Voral ships came together, forming new wings in an attempt to press into the Romulan line as best as they could. Duren's plan didn't rely on these powerful vessels however, but instead on their much smaller allies.

Determined to see their mission become a success, and bolstered by fresh orders from the Alvex, the swarm of tiny Cardassian fighters pushed their impulse engines until the point of nearly burning up. With steadfast resolve they bore down on the line where their brethren fought against the Romulan platforms, and flew past them in a single swift effort.

"You're sacrificing the fighter squadrons?" A hint of panic was in Namret's voice as he stood in disbelief, watching the Hideki fighters charge into the arms of certain death.

Instead of making a response, Duren stood silently watching the small vessels speed towards the Romulan platforms. He knew that his plan was about to be put into action, and that those piloting the fighters agreed with his sentiment. If they didn't then they would hardly be speeding towards the platforms so recklessly. All Namret needed was patience and trust. With both of these he would be able to understand Duren's plan, even before it came to fruition.

Time slowed in these waning moments of the battle. Every last cruiser and warship struck at the platforms, missing often. It almost seemed hopeless as so little headway was made, but each knew they had to continue to hold the line. Several of the mighty vessels buckled under their own weight as a continuous barrage of disruptor blasts tore away at each vessel, leaving them to merely burn and smolder away. Surely the panic level was rising steadily aboard every remaining vessel as the hope for victory continued to dwindle away. What they needed was a sign that the battle was still winnable, and that sign came from the fighter squadrons.

Covering the fierce trench of space between opposing forces, the tiny vessels darted and weaved. Where the larger ships that made up Gamma Squadron were only concerned with the bright green disruptor blasts, these Hideki fighters had to avoid crossfire from both sides. It was a task that they seemed well equipped for, as none of them suffered anything more than a slight grazing.

Using agile speed and the compact smallness that their design provided, each fighter was able to approach the line of Romulan platforms without trepidation. For those aboard the larger Cardassian vessels that watched on then a true sense of amazement came. They could hardly believe the nimble ships weren't obliterated by the cloaked enemy platforms. Duren was not among those in disbelief. No, in fact this was something he had counted on when designing his plan.

Nearly upon the Romulan line, each Hideki pilot had to hold in check their desire to strike back and avenge their fellow soldiers that had already lost their lives in this battle. In order to maintain their practically invulnerable status they were forced to keep their weapons cool, and appear as nothing more than simple flotsam to the sensors employed on the defense platforms.

Beyond the menacing defense line loomed the Gre'kari moon where the enemy lay in wait. Each pilot knew what their mission was, and what was at stake should they fail. Since the cloaked weapons had managed to keep the bulk of Gamma Squadron otherwise occupied, then the sole chance for success now rested on them. This single purpose was what each of them focused on as they dodged being struck by weapons fire from either side, until they finally reached the Romulan platforms and broke the line as though it wasn't even there.

While the fighter squadrons conducted their maneuvers, Namret watched on with mounting confusion as to their purpose. Once the Hideki fleet had passed through the line of Cardassian vessels then he had expected them to join in the fight and fire at the cloaked platforms. Seeing them continue their charge without firing a single shot was something that the glinn couldn't understand in the slightest, no matter how he decided to look at it.

The moment the Hideki vessels broke the Romulan line and sped past the platforms then Namret shifted his gaze back to his commander, expecting something to come from the man. Instead of responding to the sudden attention that his first officer gave him, Duren let a knowing smile upon his face as he stepped down from the console. Without missing a beat the soldier that had manned it before once again resumed his duties as Duren made his way across the room to watch his plan unfold from the comforts of his command chair.

Escalating tension could be felt all around Duren, yet he remained seated in perfect stillness. Beside him Namret stood, intently watching the view screen and waiting. Very few of the Romulan platforms had suffered damage at all. Meanwhile Gamma Squadron was being torn to shreds. Something had to be done, and quickly if any of them were going to make it out of the sector alive. Regrettably that only left one option.

Kneeling beside his commander, Namret took one look in his direction before whispering "Sir, we have to retreat."

"Wait for a moment, Namret."

"Sir!" the glinn repeated with a tone laced by fear.

Suffering from the constant barrage of disruptor fire the Alvex shook violently. Littering the view screen was an expanse of Cardassian vessel that shared in this fate, or worse. Still, Duren kept his vessel in place, refusing to break in their attack on the Romulan line. While everyone was concerned with the cloaked platforms and the state of their decaying vessel, they had failed to notice where the Hideki's had gone, or that the small vessels had disappeared in a hazy cloud just above the moon's surface.

Panic threatened to take hold of the mighty glinn as he felt the Galor vessel's demise to be imminent. Behind him a section of plating fell from the ceiling. Somewhere else an officer tried to shout something at Gul Duren, but the words were drowned out by the explosion of a console. Rapidly the situation around them was deteriorating. Yet, Duren seemed unaffected by all of it.

Years of training at the military academy had instilled a strong sense of loyalty in Namret, causing him to hold his tongue in many situations. Aside from this indoctrinated behavior he felt another restriction placed on himself because of Duren's recent celebrity status as the man who brought the hero of Cardassia home. Still, he wanted to say something and try to make his commander understand that they had to leave now or meet oblivion. Arguing with himself he finally relented upon the principals that solidified his role as a Cardassian soldier, as he closed his eyes to await death's embrace. Then, something unexpected happened.

Instead of the Alvex continuing to tremble until it shook itself apart, everything abruptly stopped. No longer did the mighty Cardassian vessel continue to shake under constant disruptor bombardment, and silence now replaced the roar of chaos that surrounded them a heartbeat ago. The glinn simply could not understand what had happened, until he opened his eyes and fixed them on what the view screen now displayed.

Dotted across space were several of the Romulan defense platforms. Steadily they were joined by more and more defense stations as they decloaked and powered down, leaving them useless and vulnerable.

Before anyone had the chance to ask him what had just occurred, Duren ordered the immediate destruction of the now powerless stations. None of the present soldiers hesitated at this command, as each of them was eager to rid the space around the Alvex of any hint of Romulan presence. These stations had taken away the lives of their comrades, and now they were going to repay the debt.

As the remaining officer's on the Alvex's bridge immersed themselves in their new task, Namret knelt once again by his commander. The two soldiers exchanged glances, as the glinn felt it necessary to say something. He wasn't given the chance though, when a brief blip suddenly pulled Duren's attention away.

Set into one of the arms of his chair was a small screen. Remarkably it had survived the battle intact. Now it was demanding the gul's attention, and he tapped in a keyed sequence before a face appeared donning a gray pilot's helmet.

"Mission accomplished, sir," came the pilot's trained reply. "The moon has been sterilized."

"Very nicely done. Feel free to aid in ridding the system of the last vestiges of Romulan power before docking with your carriers." A nod came from the pilot in response before the channel was closed and the screen went blank.

Without the power to maintain their cloaks, or even enough to charge their disruptor cannons, the defense platforms were easily cleared away by the remnants of the Cardassian fleet. Had they been Klingon or Breen then maybe they would have found a perverse enjoyment in cleaning away the Romulan filth, but as Cardassians all they could do was complete their mission with a solemn presence.

Nearly every platform had been turned into debris before something new attracted their interest. "Sir!" a soldier near the sensor console shouted before turning to gaze at the view screen. A fresh sense of terror eased itself into the bridge crew as they took in the scene.

All around them a new force was decloaking, and that force would be far more difficult to destroy then the unmanned platforms they had just encountered. Although the fleet of D'Deridex class warbirds was a relatively small one, Duren knew that what remained of Gamma Squadron wouldn't be able to mount any sort of defense.

Looking back at Namret briefly he knew what had to be done. "Signal the fleet to set course for the Lao'Delk. Get us out of here, maximum warp!" he ordered.

In a fit of rage the Romulan vessels approached the surviving Cardassians and began to fire towards their battered enemy. They may have arrived too late to prevent the Cardassians from their objective, but they were prepared to exact retribution nonetheless. Unfortunately for them it was still too late, as the remaining Cardassian ships punched their warps drives and sped out of the system before a single disruptor blast touched their hull plating.

Traveling at full warp and leaving the horrific battle site behind him, Duren had to take a moment to consider what he had just survived. The attack on Gre'kari had appeared to be such a simple mission, one with very little risk involved. Assuming that destroying the harvesting station would be an easy kill had been a mistake. A grave one at that.

Letting the death tolls and the senseless loss settle into his mind Duren could do nothing but nestle into his leather chair. He hoped that every soldier that had just perished had not done so in vain, and that their costly victory was worth the loss. On this hope he added another, as he hoped the deaths of so many would end soon, or else he knew there wouldn't be anymore blood left for Cardassia to shed.


End file.
