Gamma Mission

[Lt. Staplic]

==USS Trojan Horse==

James walked back into his quarters, which he shared with another Platoon Commander, the space was cramped with the two of them there, but it was still better than what he'd have on Earth.

These Starfleet people take comfort a little to seriously sometimes...

James nodded at the other man, who was busy doing something then turned into there bathroom area to take a quick shower. His unit had been over on the Valkyrie using the holodeck for their scheduled training excersice.

He'd just started to relax when the lights in the room flickered and then turned off, followed shortly by the grav plating.

"What the f**k!" The other man yelled slowly floating up to the ceeling.

James grabbed onto the wall, and pushed off moving himself over to the door, and out into the hallway. The lights and grav plating was down ther too. James began pushing himself down the hall to main engineering, it wasn't that far away and he hoped maybe He could figure out what the frak they were doing.

As he pushed himself through the door of main engineering, he was thrown off by the sudden revival of gravity, yanking him down to the floor. The secondary grav generators in Engineering were still operational. The whole room was a mess of activity, secondary lighting was just able to let everyone see where they were going as the franticly tried to identify the cause.

Standing up, James reached out and grabbed the nearest engineer, a Romulan, by the look of him. "What's going on?" James said.

"I don't know...the EPS grid just went down, we've got life support and other vital systems running on secondary relays for now." The romulan said scampering off to do what ever task he'd been assigned.

"I found the Problem sir!" Came a sudden cry from the secondary level.

James raced for the stairs, getting up there just after the Chief Engineer.

"All of these junction points have been cut off from the rest of the system. It's going to take us days to fix it." The young officer spoke to the Chief.

"Who'd be able to do that?" The Engineer thought aloud.

"Well, any engineer with clearence above Lt. commander, or one of the Senior Officers sir." The Engineer spoke.

"Find out who it was!" The Chief spoke again.

"I can't sir," The man spoke after looking at the consol again.

"Why not?" The Cheif demanded.

"Sir, whoever did this entered seven different access codes into the computer giving them access, three of the codes haven't even been assigned yet."

"Son of a B-" The Chief started, then noticing James said "Can I help you?!"

"No sir, I came down to figure out what was going on, can I help with anyting?" Corrin answered quickly.

"Not unless you can figure out which of the seven codes the computer recorded will tell us who did this." The Chief spoke turning back to the display.

"Sorry, sir." Corrin said shaking his head

"Then get out, and let us do our work!" The Chief said annoyed with the Marine.

"Yes, sir." James said turning around and walking back out the door.

[Teaos]

Teaos sat at the officer's bar on the main station slowly swirling a glass of Romulan ale in front of him.

"Bad form to drink on duty" A female voice said from behind him.

"While the commanding officers are away the crew shall play" Teaos murmured back in a singsong voice.

"They should also consider shaving" Lt Sternson said taking the bar stool next to them.

"I was going for the ruggedly hansom look" Teaos quipped.

"You seemed to have missed by a bit" Sternson replied looking closely at him.

Teaos rubbed him jaw line feeling the stubble "Maybe I should trim it down a bit-"

"Or all of it" Sternson cut in.

:"Or all of it " Teaos added "So what brings you here, I can't imagine Mikey or Hewer are handing out shore leave passes just now"

"I'm between shifts and should really be sleeping now, but I received an interesting message from Captain Fletcher. He said you weren't doing so well" Sternson said softly reaching over to take the drink away from her old commander.

Teaos said nothing for awhile, steering blankly the bar in front of him "Lets go for a walk "

[Mikey]

"Dammit, Commodore, it's a good plan!" Mikey had his palms poised on Grayling's desk, his body leaned over in an aggressive pose. He had just detailed his plan to send the camouflaged Tigerfish along with the Lacron to the Commodore, and Grayling had just shaken his head.

Grayling sat unmoving and unimpressed by Mikey's display. "I agree. I have no problem with it. You may begin implementing it at once. Coordinate with the RSE Lacron, as you suggested... and let me know how that Liam Hewer's holo-field works. I don't think it'll be a true defense, but it might avoid visual detection long enough for the ship to bug out and hide somewhere."

"Then... what's the problem?" MIkey asked, some wind taken out of his sails by Grayling's apparent agreement.

"The last part you told me - about you commanding the sortie. Not going to happen."

"What?!" Mikey leaned in close again, his antennae pitched forward. "I have years of tac, conn, and ops experience. I'm a logical choice to be on that ship. Besides, you want me to weasel out and send someone else into harm's way in my place?"

"Sit down, Captain," Grayling answered firmly, "and watch that tone." Mikey took one of the seats in front of Grayling's desk and the commodore continued, "I'm not some career desk jockey who doesn't know what the work is like. I spent my time getting my hands dirty - that's why I'm where I am. And don't presume to tell me about the experience of the captains under my command." Grayling rose, walked around the desk, leaned on it thoughtfully for a moment, and said more quietly, "Besides, W'trisk - even you have to admit that it's been quite a few years since you ran that tac or conn console." Crossing over to the wall-mounted replicator, the commodore finished, "Anyway, that's the way it has to be. I'm not sending off the captain of a ship which may be needed for a support role. Can I get you something?" Grayling asked from the replicator control panel.

"Hmm?" Mikey answered absently, his brain churning. "Oh, no thank you. Available for a support role, you said?"

"Yes, why?' Grayling returned to his seat, blew steam off his tea, and eyed W'trisk curiously over the lip of the cup.

"If we need... support... or cover..." Mikey began slowly, still formulating the idea, "then a small force on site would be ideal. "Travel time to the binary system would be an issue for any backup."

"What do you propose, Captain?" Grayling asked suspiciously.

"We can embed fighters - maybe two flights - commanded from a runabout. One or two of the larger asteroids in the belt would house a team like that, nice and hidden. The gravimetric shears outside the approaches to the stars' corridors would mask any field signatures."

"And... you would command such a team?" Grayling asked. "And it would be a support force to cover extraction, NOT some twisted version of the cavalry charging in, right, W'trisk?"

"Absolutely, sir. I just think if we do need ships to possibly fill a support role, they ought to be ships which can both respond in time and actually get to where they need to be."

"Very well, Captain." Grayling stood, as did Mikey. The commodore continued, wagging a stern finger, "But you better stick to the plan, W'trisk." Sitting back down, Grayling concluded the meeting by adding, "Commander Rochey has the details of the Jem'hadar bug warp field. You can pick them up on your way out." Mikey saluted, turned on his heel, and left.

***********************************************************************************************************

Captain W'trisk burst back onto the bridge of the Daystrom in an obviously agitated state. Without slowing down, he made for his ready room and gestured for Hewer to follow him. Once inside, Mikey remained standing but motioned Jon into a seat. Jon took the offered chair and Mikey began, "Grayling likes most of our plan for the Tigerfish."

"Most of it?"

"Everything, actually, except the part about the captain of this ship commanding the mission," Mikey answered tersely. "It would appear that I'm more valuable remaining available for a support role should our strike group need it."

"I see," Jon answered quietly. The XO had an idea what kind of state the Andorian was in after being denied this opportunity, so he waited for the next part rather than offering anything else.

"That means the mission is yours to command if you want it, Jon." Hewer nodded once, slowly, and Mikey tossed him a PADD and continued, "Here are the details of a Jem'hadar bug warp field signature. Get Liam on it, and that holo-field idea of his. Grayling likes it as an escape valve. Put your staff for the Tigerfish together, and give me a full crew and readiness report.

"Aye, sir," Jon said, standing. Peering at Mikey for a second, he said, "There's something else, sir?"

Mikey grinned his lopsided grin. "Well, let's just say I convinced the commodore how to best command a backup and support group for this particular mission. Get me two flights of pilots - volunteers - and one of the runabouts prepped and ready."

[Lighthawk]

(Alright, slipping into the RP. Let me know if I over looked something and need to make corrections.)

==USS Trojan Horse==

The tingling feel of the transporter beam released him, and Ul'th let out a silent sigh. He had never learned to be comfortable with the infernal devices, never really managed to get used to having his body rendered into pure energy and send speeding through space. After all, machines did fail some times, and a failed transport would do very unpleasant things to an individual. It would be a very poor way to die indeed.

Ul'th's eyes swept over to the transporter operator, and he frowned slightly at finding a Romulan working the controls. Certainly he had heard they would be serving on the captured vessel as well, but if he had known he would be placing his life in the hands of one of those honorless dogs just to arrive on the ship...

A sense of tension filled the transporter room as the other Klingons that had been brought over with Ul'th noticed what he had, and had similar thoughts. Unlike Ul'th though, the other Klingons felt no need to keep quiet about their feelings.

" Better check our pockets," a beefy warrior rumbled. " I wouldn't put it passed the pointy eared p'tahk to have swiped a few vaulables from us mid-transport."

The Romulan's face twisted into an angry sneer, but whatever retort he might have made never left his throat. Ul'th's lips quirked a minimal smile. The man at least seemed able to count, and a dozen to one where not odds that gave the one much choice but to swallow his pride. Still, no point in taking chances, it wouldn't do to risk the Romulan finding his spine only to have one of the warriors rip it out. They were all in this together, Klingon, Federation, and Romulan alike. Painful as it was, they needed to at least pretend to get along.

" Enough!" Ul'th barked as one of the other Klingons made to deliever what he was sure would have been another insult. His tone was sharp, stern, and at total contrast to his actual feelings. He felt very little, his emotions as always seeming to be something far away and just barely belonging to himself.

The warrior's insult cut off, but he glared defiantly at Ul'th. He, and the others, had not been happy at being put under the command of a, as they called him, " Emotional neutered shell of a Klingon." Ul'th didn't care, even his crippled feelings couldn't be roused enough to give responce to the narrow minded views of his fellows. The insult was as nothing to him.

The insolence on the other hand, managed to touch what remained of the core of his Klingon temper. He stepped up to the warrior, who he towered over by a hand. He glared back at the shorter Klingon, his eyes cold as Rura Penthe. The warrior gave way first, averting his gaze, and Ul'th suppressed a smile, an easy thing for him. While he no longer possessed a proper Klingon temper, he had found certain advantages to his condition. Other Klingons seemed to find his cold, passionless bearing unnerving, too unnatural. It made him the center of much unflattering comentary, but he could live with that. One had to work with the tools one had, and deal with the results stoically.

With a wave of his hand, Ul'th ordered the warriors out of the transpoter room, and he followed after them, casting a final glare at the Romulan, who watched them leave with only the barest hint of relief showing around his eyes. Beyond that, the alien's face was a featureless mask. Ul'th approved of such control, if the rest of the pointy eared rats showed as much ability, perhaps this joint venture wasn't a doomed failure waiting to happen.

Leaving his warriors to get settled in, Ul'th made his way to the bridge, pausing a moment to take in the odd layout of the Jem'hadar vessel. No view screen, no chairs, no astestics. Functional and plain, the former Ul'th could appreciate, but the lack of any grace, any...personality to the bridge he found absurd. The Jem'hadar might be excellent fighters, but they were no warriors. They were machines, flesh and blood yes, but machines none the less.

Ul'th's eyes fell upon the hulking, armored figure standing in the center of the bridge. So then, the rumors of a Breen Federation captain were truth in fact. Interesting.

" Sir, Lieutenant Ul'th reporting for duty. I have been giving charge of the Firefang warrior squad, currently on board."

[Lt. Staplic]

- Valkyrie Bridge -

Seth walked onto the Bridge slowly looking around, this was the first time he'd been here as the official Tactical Officer. After noting who was on the Bridge Seth turned to his right and stepped into his new position.

The Orders had come through soon after Munroe's transfer to CO of the Trojan Horse. Seth was already in the works to be transferred from Chief of Security to Cheif Tactical and Security Officer, and with Grundig's move to the station and Munroe's departure he achieved his goal. With Munroe leaving that also made him top choice for first officer position as well. However the Captain had yet to announce his choice.

"Welcome to the Bridge Mr. Cix," Captain Tusk said turning to awknowledg the new arrival. Walking around to Cix's new station the Captain continued, "I have something here for you Mr. Cix. Because of recent developments, you have been prommoted to the position of Chief Tactical and Security officer. I would like to say congradulations, this isn't so much a daunting task with someone of your expirence, however stepping in to fill the position half way through the mission with the sudden shortage of crew, and doing it the way you have is something to be admired."

"As we all also know, our dear First Officer, Commander Munroe has been gifted with his own command on the Trojan Horse. This has left a very big hole on our ship. I need a first officer who can step in and fill the postition left by the Breen. Someone who has the experience and knowledge to perform well and who will have the the respect of the crew as Munroe did. Mr. Cix, I believe you can fill that role best. As approved by Greyling this morning, I here by prommote you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, with all the rights and responsibilities there of, in order to bestow on you the title of Acting First Officer. Tusk then reached out and clipped the extra half pip onto Cix's collor physicly giving him his promotion.

"Thank you." Cix said grinning his deep evil looking grin.

Behind the grin however Cix had turned his thoughts back to his past. All the missions, all the experience, and all the friends lost. He'd aquired a similarly respectable rank to this once before, just before leaving intellegence. His thoughts then turned to his former CO and their parting words, that Cix's career was finished, and that he'd never be able to make it as a regular officer. The anger Cix had felt at the man, and his determination to prove him wrong.

With everyone settling down on the Bridge Cix turned back to his station and silently whispered to himself I told you I could make it out here...

[Mark]

USS Ravage-Ten Forward

"And furthermore," the new Senior Systems Officer, Lieutenant Commander Tina Jordan said "I feel that I would be an excellent candidate for the Gamma shift commander."

Sinclair sat silently, mourning the fact that even though he still had well over half his chicken salad sandwich left, he had completely lost his appetite. McDuff had warned him about her, but Sinclair was acknowledged as being one of the most even tempered and mild mannered officers on the ship, and refused to pre-judge anybody. However, as usual, the Master Chief was turning out to be right. This woman, while quite attractive, was turning out to be more than a handful.

Keeping his expression friendly, Sinclair replied "So, let me see if I understand this. First, you're of the opinion that all tactical and , operations, and engineering departments should fall under the jurisdiction of System Operations."

"Exactly" she replied

"Second" Sinclair continued "As the ships Systems Ops officer, you feel that you should have the responsibility for crew schedules and shifts, as well as for the majority of duty assignments."

"Well, that would certainly make sense. It would make for better coordination." She said.

"And last but not least" Sinclair said "You feel that you should command the ship on the gamma shift. And you feel that you are qualified AND ready for such a responsibility?"

"Yes, I do." She answered instantly "So, when can we begin implementing these changes?"

Sinclair thought carefully before phrasing his answer. After all, she was a new officer to Ravage, and one who had watched her last ship destroyed in front of her very eyes. He didn't want to make her feel unwelcome or to hurt her feelings.

"Commander, I just don't feel these changes would be in the best interest of the ship." He began "Especially with this Trojan Horse mission coming up so soon. Maybe at some point in the future, we can discuss some of your ideas further and see what we can come up with. Fair enough?"

"Do you think the Captain would object?" she asked.

Sinclair shrugged his shoulders as he picked up his forgotten meal to recycle "I couldn't say. If you'll excuse me now?" and made his way to the reclamation unit before leaving the lounge.

__________________________________

USS Ravage-Main Bridge

Sinclair couldn't the life of him figure out why the Captain would call him to his ready room at this hour. It was deep into Delta watch, and the Captain SHOULD have been relaxing, if not getting ready for bed.

As he stepped out of the turbolift, he saw Devi sitting in the command chair giving him a calculating look, but not saying anything. To be honest, Devi made Sinclair nervous. He was honest enough with himself to admit he'd had a thing for her for quite a while, but after learning of her relationship with Uzume, was respectful enough to not even think of pushing the issue. Even though he'd pictured the two women together many times in his most private fantasies and daydreams, he was still a bit uneasy around this woman. He couldn't help but feel that he'd leapfrogged her in the chain of command, and had no idea why she hadn't been made Lewis's first officer instead of him. In a way, he felt like he'd stolen what was rightfully hers, and was afraid she resented him.

He touched the chime to the Ready Room, and heard Lewis say "Come in"

As the door swished open, he saw the Captain sitting at his desk, and across from him was Lt Cmdr Jordan. Sinclair noticed that she had a slightly smug look on her face, but as usual, Captain Lewis's face gave nothing away unless he wanted it too.

"Commander" the Captain began "Lieutenant Commander Jordan was just filling me in on some ideas that she had for the ship. She said that she'd mentioned them to you already. What did YOU think?"

Sinclair was nearly speechless. This woman had clearly and blatantly circumvented him to go to the Captain with her suggestions. In twelve years of Starfleet service, nobody had EVER done this to him before.

"I told her I just didn't feel these changes would be in the best interest of the ship, Captain" Sinclair replied, trying VERY hard to keep his temper in check, "And I still don't."

Lewis glanced at the two officers, one after the other. It seemed Sinclair was still naïve is some ways, and didn't see a power play for what it was. Unfortunately, this was one of those lessons he had to learn now, before he could ever think of taking his own center seat. Commander Sinclair was a nice guy, sometimes TOO nice. He needed to learn how to drop the proverbial hammer.

"I completely agree with you Number One." Lewis replied, and then nodded to both of them. "Goodnight." He said, and left without another word.

Just after the Captain left, Lt Cmdr Jordan looked at Sinclair with a defiant look and said "You never told me I couldn't take this to the Captain myself." then she turned and without waiting to be dismissed or even another word exited the room, likely hoping to catch the same turbolift as the Captain to try and score some brownie points.

Sinclair stared at the door that closed behind her, seething in silence. He had just begun to leave the ready room himself as Devi walked in, placed her hand on the center of his chest, and pushed him back in, allowing the door to close behind her, and trapping him against the Captain's desk.

"What are you doing Commander?" Sinclair asked.

"I might ask you the same question." Devi snapped.

Giving her a quizzical look he asked her "What do you mean?"

She replied "I mean, why the hell are you letting her get away with that blatant disrespect and insubordination towards you?"

"Maybe she just got excited and jumped the gun ." Sinclair began.

"There you go again, Jordan." Devi cut him off. "You're trying to be the kind, caring, and understanding commanding officer. The problem is that you're not the damned Chief Engineer anymore. Peoples very lives depend on you now and you can't afford to always worry about being everybody's friend. That was a lesson I learned from Captain Thompson, and one you damned well better learn yourself."

Butterflies erupted in Sinclair's belly as he realized that Devi's hand was still on his chest, and even though he knew that it was unintentional on her part, it raised some uncomfortable feelings on his.

He stepped sideways and away, and as a means of clearing his head asked her, "What do you suggest?"

Devi replied heatedly "She's a power hungry, opportunistic, bitch. If she thinks she senses weakness, she'll pounce. She'll take all sorts of liberties, and unless you establish the pecking order now, she'll cause turmoil on the ship, and make YOUR life hell."

Sinclair thought silently for a moment about what Devi said, and had to admit that deep down, he already knew what she was telling him, and knew that she was right.

Finally, not being able to hold it in anymore, Sinclair asked "Why the hell did Lewis pick ME as his first officer, Devi? You already HAD the rank AND the experience. You were the protégée of one of the more respected Captains in recent Starfleet history. Everybody thought that you were a shoe-in for the job. I never understood his choice. I never asked for this you know."

Devi's face suddenly broke into a smile, "Finally. I was wondering how long it was going to take you to ask that question. The Captain honestly never thought you would, but I knew that sooner or later you'd have to. You've been dancing on eggshells with me since you put on that red uniform. It's because of Uzume. Our relationship is more valuable to me than anything else in the universe. Lewis knew there would be no point in offering me the job, because I never would have taken it and risked having our rank difference ruin us. Just for the record, when the Captain asked MY opinion, I'm the one who recommended YOU. Believe me, there are no hard feelings Jordan."

Sinclair let that sink in for a moment before replying, "Thanks Devi. That was something that I really needed to hear." And strode out of the Ready Room with a new purpose in his step. Devi leaned back against Captain Lewis's desk for a moment with one of her mysterious smiles on her face, before heading back out onto the bridge.

_______________________________

USS Ravage - Lieutenant Commander Tina Jordan's quarters.

Lt. Cmdr Jordan was already dressed for bed in her favorite see through nightie, sitting on her couch, planning for the days ahead and how to better her position on the ship, as the doors to her quarters suddenly swished open, and Commander Sinclair entered, unannounced.

She jumped to her feet shouting, "How dare you! Who do you think you are?"

With a stony smile, Sinclair replied. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Commander Jordan Sinclair, and I'm the First Officer of the USS Ravage. Now, you and I are going to have a conversation LIEUTENANT Commander. That is, I'm going to speak, and you're going to listen. Are we clear?"

Stunned, all she could do is nod.

"Good" Sinclair replied. "Now, let me make myself VERY, VERY clear. There is NO chance that Tactical,Engineering, or Operations will EVER be put under the supervision of the System Operations Officer, meaning you. Don't even THINK of trying to usurp my authority on any level, even with personnel assignments or duty rosters, EXCEPT for YOUR department. I'm going to be brutally honest with you, Lieutenant Commander. The Systems Operations Officer position was created aboard this ship because our Chief Operations Officer and our Chief Engineer simply have to many things to do during our time in the Gamma Quadrant, so the Captain decided to create a position in which somebody can basically oversee and keep and eye on the non critical systems of the ship. Other duties may be assigned to you as seen fit, but for now DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT GETTING CREATIVE. Patel and McDuff do not and will not report to you. And if you EVER want to even fantasize yourself sitting in Ravage's center seat, you better prove yourself to Captain Lewis, me, and the crew, in that order. Whatever personal agendas you may have WILL get stuffed into the nearest airlock and blown into deep space. Are we clear?"

Swallowing hard and breathing fast, she replied "Crystal clear."

"Crystal clear, what?" Sinclair pressed

"Crystal clear, SIR." She replied.

"Better," Sinclair said. "And one more thing. If you EVER pull an end run around me again, I'll personally transfer your ass over to one of the Klingon ships as an exchange cook. You got me?"

Wordlessly, she nodded.

With a curt nod, Sinclair replied "Good. Goodnight then." And left. Seemingly, he was so angry, he never realized that she was very nearly completely nude.

She stood there for a moment longer before she realized she was AROUSED. "I think I'm in love." She thought to herself.

[Teaos]

The sound of muted conversations and the sharp clatter of a pile of PADD's being knocked over played over the background noise of humming computers and lab equipment. Over a dozen people were working in the lab of the Ravage, although not the flagship, the Nebula class ship did have the most extensive scientific equipment in the fleet.

Although Lt. Commander Smith held the CSO position on the Ravage Commander Teaos had assumed command of this assignment under orders of the commodore, although the commander suspected Captains Fletchers hand in this, Fletcher had been trying to keep his second officer busy lately, trying to keep his mind off the loss of the Pegasus and his friend.

"We're wasting our time" a NCO crewmen from the Ravage said "There is no way to force a new point of entry on a binary stay system, especially not when one of the stars is in a transition period and changes its diameter by upwards of 30% every 13 hours. You may as well ask us to reverse the polarization of the hull and fly right through the star and ambush them that way" he added dismissively.

"I may as well ask you that indeed since I didn't ask you to find a new way in, in the first place you pathetic excuse for what didn't run down your mothers leg" The commander snapped back silencing the conversations in the room as the rest of the science personal turned to see one of the usually more laid back officers rip into the junior crewmen.

"Our mission brief is it see if we can find a way to add the Trojan Horse in its infiltration mission, a different point of entry was just one of the many ideas put forward in the preliminary brainstorming session you useless buttnugget. Since you seem to be so unfamiliar with the scientific method I think we can start your training from scratch, go to the galley and pick us up a couple of trays of drinks and snacks, with the likes of you around here this may take awhile and I'm hungry" Teaos said as he waved the crewman away dismissivly and looked down at the tabletop display of the binary system.

"A little harsh don't you think" Lt Smith said next to the commander.

"I'm here to front this assignment, not babysit, he's a liability if he can't work in a team" Teaos defended himself.

"Perhaps, but many of the crew here have never been on a mission like this before, a little slack has to be given, they're scientists not warriors, just like the Pegasus' crew" Smith didn't see the flash of anger in the commanders eyes at the mention of the Pegasus s he was looking at the map as well.

"Commander, Lietenant, could we speak to you for a moment" One of the Romulans science officer summoned them from the other side of the room.

[Mikey]

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to go... I told you that you were going!" Mikey's antennae splayed wildly and his cheeks were taking on a purplish hue. He could ignore Holmes' pranks, he could even get over his insouciant attitude and arrogance; but direct insubordination still brought his blood to a boil.

"And I told you that I'm not," Holmes answered evenly. It wasn't that the doctor didn't respect the chain of command; it was more like Holmes saw himself as being outside it - or rather above it. "I'm not some flyboy or footslogger."

"Listen, Doctor. I don't need to explain myself to you, but for the sake of my sanity, and an attempt to show you more respect than you show me, I'm going to. There are crew from this ship - your ship - that are flying this mission, and they're going to be flying it against Jem'hadar. That doesn't just mean that there'll be casualties... it means that there will be horrible, massive, greivous casualties - ones which will require the attention of the best damned doctor in Starfleet, pain in the grell'nors that he might be. That is why you are going."

"Your assessment is accurate," Holmes replied, raising his cane and tapping it on Mikey's chest, "but I still haven't agreed to go."

"You don't need to agree," Mikey said quietly, "but I'll play. OK - you 'agree' to go on the mission aboard the Tigerfish, or I'll have you lancing boils and stitching up shiv wounds on a Tellarite prison colony."

"You couldn't do that to m-"

"I've been doing this a long time, Doctor, and I know a lot of people - and unlike you, I haven't pissed off all the people I do know. In any event, as a last resort I could just beat you, pick you up, and and strap you into the Tigerfish."

"Even you're not enough of an animal to do something like that," Holmes answered indignantly. Mikey took a deliberate step forward, and Homes threw up his hands. "OK, maybe you are. Alright, I'll get ready. But I'll want-"

"Oh," Mikey interrupted, "Talknegree is coming with me, by the way." Holmes smacked himself in the head with the knob of his walking stick. Mikey tapped his comm badge and said, "Commander Hewer? Bad news - Dr. Holmes will be accompanying you on the Tigerfish."

************************************************************************

Entering the flight deck, Mikey looked at the two Danube-class runabouts remaining aboard. Since one was completely dark and half-blocked by hand trucks and pallets, he instinctively deduced that the other one would be the vessel he ordered to be readied. "Carson, Taylor - come here, please," he called.

The two long-standing crewmen appeared from behind the flight-ops kiosk and stood at attention. "Yes, sir?"

"Listen - I need your help. This... thing..."

"The USS Metedeconk, sir," offered Carson.

"The Metedeconk," said Mikey, accepting the correction, "has to function as a mobile command as well as support vehicle. Get McKenzie, Van Pelt, Friedman, whoever you need - but I want constant comms connectivity with the fighters and the Tigerfish, and a continuous transporter lock on each of the fighter pilots. Give each pilot a beacon, or evac transport module linked to the runabout, or whatever - but if I have to lose a fighter, I'm damned sure not going to lose a man in the process."

"Understood, sir," said Taylor.

"And see what you can do to juice up the tactical systems. You have six hours." Mikey turned and left the bay.

Taylor hung his head for a moment, thinking about the unrealistic time frame, while Carson just chuckled quietly.

"What's so funny?" Taylor asked angrily.

"12 years, and he's the same old lieutenant commander."

[Lt. Staplic]

-USS Trojan Horse-

Helev paced his quarters, unsure of his next stip. Finally, growing tired of his indecision, he moved and sat down at one of the Computer terminals that had been fitted into his quarters.

Helev called up the last transmission he'd received. Staring at it. The orders were clear and direct, but Helev paused. He couldn't tell the difference anymore, between right, wrong, and following orders.

"Computer, access Tactical diagnostic and maintenance systems." Helev spoke, closing out of the transmission.

As the systems came online on Helev's computer he made the appropriate modifications. Finishing, he encrypted his work, leaving little trace of its existence.

Standing, Helev made his way down the hall to the room holding the secondary computer core, one of the Federation's spare's. Helev accessed the computer control mechanism and made a few more modifications to the ship. Finishing he again encrypted his work, and left.

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

-USS Trojan Horse, Three days later-

"Centurion, we are preparing to leave within the week, and I want to make sure all systems are performing optimally, and under our complete control. Please take your station, and await my orders." Commander Munro informed Helev as he stepped on to the bridge.

"Aye sir." Helev answered, quickly finding the Tactical Station.

All of the Bridge Crew was there, and they all quickly found their stations. Commander Munro Turned and sat in the new Captain's Chair, placing the Headset over his helmet. Nod stood beside him, they were still waiting to insert his chair.

Then the Captain accessed the Ship's internal comm system and projected on all decks, "This is Commander Munro. In preparation for imminent departure, we will be testing the ships systems. Alpha shift, to your stations." Then cutting the comm line Munro continued, "Full navigation checks, make sure we are where it says we are and will be going where it says we'll be going. Operations let me know when every station checks in. Tactical make sure all systems are green."

Helev ran full diagnostics on his station and the tactical systems making sure that all of the systems were functioning at full capacity after his modifications. They were.

"Commander, Tactical systems performing as expected." Helev reported.

Similar reports came in from the Helm, and eventually Ops.

"Alright then." Munro said, "Take us away from the station, quarter impulse."

Helev felt the ship slowly accelerate, and move away from the ship. It was odd not having the viewscrean there to see it himself.

"Alright, let's go to warp. Just a test run, Warp 5." Munro ordered.

The ship strained a little as it went to warp, but in seconds they were cruising.

"Plot a course for a nearby system; bring us into the asteroid belt." Munro ordered

"Aye, sir. At our present speed we'll reach the system in around a minute." The Helmsman reported.

"Good, Centurion, raise shields." Munro ordered, "Time to test the tactical systems."

"Aye sir, raising shields." Helev said making the proper commands on the consol.

The shields went up and for a half a second, it appeared everything was going fine, when the ship suddenly lurched underneath them.

"Report" Munro spoke, any anxiety being hid by the voice synthesizer.

"Sir, we've dropped out of warp!" The helmsman said clearly stressed.

"Shields are down; it appears the matrix control destroyed itself when the shields went up." Helev reported relaying the information on his consol.

"I thought the Tactical systems were operating as expected!" Nod yelled rushing over to Helev's station.

"According to the diagnostics they should have." Helev responded, staring at the Klingon.

"You can be sure; we'll be checking those diagnostics." Nod replied getting close the Romulan, daring him to make a move. He didn't.

"Send a message back to the station; let them know of our situation. Disengage the shields and shut down all tactical systems. Then get warp back online." Munro said.

"Sir, we can't. The Plasma exhaust ports have fused." The Helmsman said looking at his display.

"How?" Nod asked.

"I don't know sir, after the shields went down, the exhaust ports closed, then the plasma fused it together before the exhaust could be vented." He reported.

"Sabotage?" Nod questioned turning first to look at Helev, then to the Captain

"I do not know, set a course back to the station, full impulse. That'll give us 27 hours to figure out what went wrong." Munroe said standing. "Get to it."

[Mark]

USS Trojan Horse - Main Engineering

Nod arrived to find the Engine room in shambles. There was smoke filling the air from overloaded panels, sparks jumping out of consoles, the stench of burned wiring, and above all what looked like a riot in the making. Half a dozen Romulan engineers were standing squaring off with an equal number of their Starfleet counterparts, while a similar number of Klingons looked mad enough to begin tearing off any random extremity that may wander into range. One Starfleet engineer was standing almost nose to nose with the senior Romulan present.

"I'm telling you it was probably just an accident!" The Romulan snarled.

The Starfleet engineer, a young Andorian, whose antennae swiveled wildly in his fury nearly screamed "It's physically impossible! The shield matrix was in no way connected to the warp drive directly, much less the plasma vents!"

The Romulan replied "How can any of us be sure? How familiar are YOU with Jem'Hadar technology? SOMETHING caused the chain reaction."

The Andorian pulled himself up indignantly, "My crew PERSONALY inspected the warp core, inside and out. There is no way this should have happened."

With a sneer, the Romulan replied, "Perhaps your crew simply overlooked something?"

It was then that all hell broke loose. Nobody could be sure who threw the first punch, but in the blink of an eye, a massive three way brawl had erupted. The Andorian and Romulan were rolling around on the ground grappling. The Romulans had attacked the Starfleet crew, and the Klingons not to be left out, bellowed war cries and waded into the melee, indiscriminately lashing out and whomever was within reach. With disgust, Nod pulled his disrupter and thumbed the setting down to the heaviest stun setting available. He calmly stood there and opened fire, dropping one combatant after another, until fully half of the mob lay unconscious on the deck. Only then did the remaining engineers back away from each other, and some semblance of order was restored.

Nod bellowed "What the in name of Sto'vo'kor happened?"

The Andorian officer had regained his feet unsteadily, likely due to the obviously broken antenna on the right side of his head replied "We don't know sir. There is no way that should have happened."

"Well, since it so obviously DID happen, that's not a very good answer." Nod roared, still holding his disrupter in the engineer's general direction.

One of the Klingon's replied this time, "What the blue skin is saying Commander, is that those two systems are completely isolated from each other, or at least they should have been.

A Romulan officer, cradling an injured arm took up the explanation, "There are supposed to be safety interlocks to isolate the two systems. So, if the shields took a hard enough hit, the power surge wouldn't overload the core, or if the core was damaged, a similar surge wouldn't disable the shield emitters."

A suspicion gnawed at the back of Nod's mind. There was something he needed to check on, but first he needed to finish dealing with these Targ-brained engineers.

"Listen closely." Nod growled at the men and women in front of him. "First, you will pick up these Pa'taq that are littering my Engine room. Second, you will CARRY them, by hand, up to the infirmary. Finally, you will return here and you will not eat nor sleep until you can not only tell me what has happened, but you have restored warp drive to this ship BEFORE we arrive back at the base. I don't care if you must don environmental suits to either complete the work on the plasma vents, or simply to get out and push. We arrive in just under 27 hours, so I SUGGEST you complete your assignments in 26. Are we understood?"

The Romulan who had been grappling with the Andorian spat and announced "I don't take orders from Klingons."

Without missing a beat, Nod thumbed his disrupter one setting higher and blew off the insolent Romulan's left ear.

As he fell screaming to the deck, clasping both hands to the side of his head, trying to staunch the emerald flow of blood, Nod looked at him and stated "You will lie there, screaming and bleeding. That is an order."

As the Romulan continued to scream and bleed Nod smiled widely and announced "You see! Even HE can follow orders with the proper persuasion."

Not another word was spoken as the remaining engineers picked up the fallen bodily and trooped out of engineering.

Once Nod was alone, he activated one of the few remaining stations and began to navigate the alien system with a skill and ability that few would attribute the old, hulking warrior. What he found made no sense at all. These computers didn't even hold a RECORD of a malfunction. It wasn't that the memory had been wiped; so much as the computer was instructed to not record anything after receiving a certain series of commands. This would completely cover the tracks of any saboteur. With dismay, Nod found that he couldn't even find who had entered the commands, or what they were. Just as Nod was ready to give into his frustration and smash the console, he made one small and disturbing discovery.

Although he couldn't tell who had done it or when, he saw that the codes had been entered by a bridge officer, it seemed. That narrowed his list of suspects considerably.

Quoting one of favorite literary characters, one he'd been reading in Original Klingon since he was a boy, he muttered to himself "The game's afoot."

[Monroe]

Munro was sitting on the captain's office looking over the report Nod had filed. "Very good work. I want everyone not on the senior staff that was on the bridge at that time to be confined to their quarters. I'll assign whatever her name-- the Romulan, to interrogate them. Meanwhile continue your investigation. Dig into the senior staff that was on the bridge. Check their computer records, personal logs, you name it."

"Thought Federation didn't want us prying into personal property?" Nod asked grinning at the elbow room Munro was going to let him work with.

"I'm the law here not Earth." Munro replied, "If anyone gives you a problem send them to me. If you do find proof, execute them."

[Lt. Staplic]

James sat in a large holding room along with most of the other men from his unit. They'd all been detained on captains orders after it was discovered that the sabotage codes had come from the bridge. Their exclusive access to the Bridge while taking the ship put them on the suspect list, since one of them could have set the commands, and put it on a timer function.

Though James suspected it was merely a technicality, not only did Starfleet not have it's command codes programmed into the Dominion Computer at the time, but few of his men had that kind of knowledge on Starship systems.

They were being interrogated one at a time, as were the other, "prisoners" only being released once the Romulan, Centurion Sovak, had cleared them. A few men from his unit had already gone through, cleared within minutes as James knew they would be.

A few hours passed until he was the last one in the room. As the last man walked out taking but five minutes to clear his name, James was summoned into the Centurion's "office".

"Lt. Corrin, I'm sure you know why you are here." The romulan began.

"Yes, sir." James replied standing at attention.

"Then you know that we have a saboteur aboard the ship, and that the most recent damage was initiated by a programed code activated on the bridge. All personnel who had access to the Bridge are being questioned as to their knowledge of computer systems, and specific details of their duty on the bridge for later review." The romulan continued, outlining exactly what James had heard.

"Yes, sir." James said, distinctly saying each word.

"My report shows you having been on the bridge twice since the Nebula battle." Sovak began, leaving an open ending for James to continue.

"Yes," James said.

"Would you mind informing me as to your reasons for being on the bridge." He continued.

"Well, sir, the first time I was killing the Jem'Hadar that had previously controlled the ship, with my unit successfully taking the ship." James said sarcasm present with every word. "The second time was still before either yourself or Commander Munro had been assigned. Command of the ship was in the hands of my direct superior officer, Captain Kane. He summoned all of the platoon commanders for a debriefing before Starfleet took command of the vessel."

Sovak nodded his head acknowledging that that was the official report as well. "Still, very interesting, you would have had access to any bridge computer terminal at either of those occasions."

"Yes sir, I would have, however I don't know enough about Federation computers to try and hack one sir, let alone a Dominion system, which was what the ship was still operating on at the time." James refuted the accusation.

"Isn't it also a fact that you were in Engineering shortly following the failure of the EPS grid." The romulan said, continuing to pile up the suspect evidence.

"Yes, sir." James said, anger beginning to mount. "However as you probably already know, my quarters are not far from Main Engineering, I went there to see if I could help with repairs."

"And yet, you've admitted to being rather poor with computers." Helev said pointing out a flaw in the Leiutenant's reasoning.

"As you also have reported, I was turned away because of that lack of knowledge." James said, anger cracking into his voice.

The Romulan stared at him for a long while, James just stared back, angry for being accused of being a traitor, by a Romulan no less.

Finally he said, "You are dismissed Lieutenant, however you can count on there being a detailed search into your past. If you have secrete computer skills, we will find out, if you have a secrete alliance with an enemy, we will find out. Dismissed."

Without another word, James left the "office" and walked directly off the ship and onto the station where he quickly found a computer desk. He accessed the internal communications and quickly typed out a message for Lt. Commander Cix to meet him on the stations lounge when he got off duty. Then took off to get a head start.

[Mark]

USS Trojan Horse - Main Bridge

Nod stood surveying the bridge as its mish-mash of officers manned their posts. He chuckled silently to himself as he wondered what his grandfather would have said had you told him that his grandson would be first officer of a captured enemy ship, crewed jointly by Klingons, Romulans, and Starfleet personnel, all working quite literally, side by side, to infiltrate an enemy base. The old man would have laughed until his belly hurt and then insisted you'd been drinking bad blood wine again.

The stopover at the base had been slightly longer than expected. With their tyrant of a first officer cracking a whip at their heels, the engineering crew, as well as some other lucky "volunteers" had been forced to work around the clock, completing all repairs to the ship except for those requiring EVA suits and spacewalking. It turned out to have been a blessing in disguise as during the layover to repair the outer hull and the plasma vents they were informed of a last minute upgrade. It seemed that the Chief Engineers from two of the Starfleet ships, Hewer from the Daystrom and McDuff from the Ravage had come up with a way to disguise the crew from Dominion sensors using holo-technology. Emitters placed throughout the ship that would in fact, produce false readings fooling any but the most intensive scans, as well as fool any necessary visual communications that may arise. As all engineers seem to do, no matter what species they are, they said it would take eight days to complete the upgrade, when in fact they completed it in two.

After losing those two days, then came another full day of dealing with the requests for transfers. Many of the officers, especially the more idealistic and naïve ones from Starfleet, where shocked, offended, and downright outraged at the way Nod treated disciplinary matters. It turned quite monotonous after the two dozen officers stormed out of the room Munro was using as the Captain's office. This late in the mission, there were no transfers, no requests for reassignment, or even resignations to be accepted by the Captain. Time had become a factor. They had that traitorous Vulcan who fled to only Kahless knew where, acts of sabotage in the fleet as well as on board ship, plus the growing danger that this ship would be reported as "lost", before they could infiltrate the enemies perimeter. All in all, Nod blew a silent breath of relief when the Admiral gave the final go ahead for launch.

Munro touched the com panel and accessed the ships PA system, and announced "All hands, this is the Captain. Man your stations and prepare for departure."

Closing the channel, the Captain turned his helmeted head to look at his first officer and said, "Take us out."

With a curt nod, the imposing Klingon ordered the Klingon at the Ops station "Release docking clamps, and clear all moorings."

After receiving an acknowledgement he ordered the Human at the Conn station, "Reverse thrusters, one quarter power. Come about to 180-mark-zero."

With a barely noticed jolt, the ship cleared the station and spun around."

Nod continued, "Increase speed to full impulse until we clear the system. Once clear, set course at 135-mark-217, for the Triaga system, warp 6 .ON THE CAPTAINS COMMAND." He finished with an emphasis, deciding that the crew needed to get used to responding from the icily cold and synthetic voice of the Captain instead of Nod's loud barking voice and graphic threats of violence.

Completely ignoring the chair that was installed for him, which was slightly behind and to right of the Captain's chair, Nod continued to pace the bridge, eyes on everything and everyone, and smelling the nervous tension all around. Last time, he let himself be comfortable and disaster struck. This time he was on edge and alert for trouble. As he passed behind the Conn station, he noticed the ship's second officer, that Romulan Sovak, sitting in HIS chair, behind and to the left of the Captain's, where only Nod could see the man's face. He didn't look the slightest bit nervous, and considering the fact they were just about to attempt the same maneuver that caused a massive malfunction just a few days ago, it looked to Nod almost as if he knew something that nobody else did. If anything, he looked preoccupied, and that bothered Nod in a way he couldn't quite put into words. As the ship made its way out of the solar system, Nod decided it would be up to him to keep an eye on the Romulan. In this he didn't feel he could entirely depend on the Captain. After all, Commander Munro thought the Romulan was a female still, so the subtleties of reading the body language of a Romulan may not be a skill the Breen had learned. Nod however, was all too familiar with Romulans, having fought them in bloody battles for years, both in space and hand to hand, before suddenly finding himself allied with them in this last war. The Federation was trying to make nice with them now, and Chancellor Martok was following the Federations lead, but that certainly didn't make Nod start to trust Romulans. Not trusting Romulans was once of the first lessons he learned that saved his life, many years ago, and one he still clung too.

With a nervous backward glace the young conn officer announced "We've cleared the system. New course and speed laid in, and warp drive its standing by, awaiting the Captain's orders, Sir."

With a surprising and reassuring gesture, Nod firmly patted the young man's shoulder in a supportive fashion. He then looked back at Munro and said, "By your command."

After several second that seemed to stretch off into eternity, Munro responded with a simple, one worded command. "Execute."

The ship shot forward into warp, and off into destiny.

[Lighthawk]

" You're in my way."

Ul'th glanced over his shoulder to see who was talking to him, saw a glowering Romulan face, and promtly turned back around, ignoring the fellow. The bat'leth he wielded flowed from hand to hand as he whipped it around his head, spun it behind his back, and brought it sything up in a gutting strike.

" I said..." the Romulan began, but Ul'th cut him off.

" Yes, I heard, " he interrupted in a bored tone, still carving up the air around him. " You can use another hallway, there are more than one on this ship if I remember correctly."

" But I am using this one," the Romulan hissed. " I am not going to walk all the way back because of your stubborn stupidity." He paused for a moment and then spat. " What are you even doing here?"

" Practicing," Ul'th said calmly.

" In the middle of a corridor?" The sarcasm that dripped from the words should have eaten holes in the floor.

" Yes."

" And you can't practice elsewhere because...?"

" Because I need practice in tight quarters, in having a restriction on either side of me." Ul'th explained, with the tone of trying to get through a very simple concept to someone who is being very stupid.

The Romulan bristled at the tone, but seemed unable to find words fitting enough for his outrage. " Let me pass!" he finally snapped.

" I won't stop you," Ul'th told him, though he gave no indication that he was going to stop practicing.

" Then would you be so kind as to stop waving that thing around?"

" Why?"

" So I can get by you idiot!"

" That won't be neccessary," Ul'th told him. " I am more than capable of ensuring that you will not be harmed without stopping my training. In fact, it will be good practice for me, ensuring I can weild the bat'leth in such tight confines without hitting an...alley." He gave the Romulan a pale smile. The pointed eared alien glared at him for a moment, then turned and stalked off, muttering to himself.

Ul'th had already put him out of mind. There hadn't been much for him to do so far on this mission, especially with the false start they had had. Training to keep his skilled as honed as possible was the best use for his time he'd found so far. That he could annoy the Romulans working on board at the same time was just a bonus.

[Mikey]

Mikey settled into the pilot's seat of the USS Metedeconk and rolled his neck, causing McKenzie next to him to start at the sound of several tendons popping and cracking. From the flight engineer's position, McKenzie - who would be doing double duty as flight ops - asked, "Are you alright, sir?"

Mikey's antennae span towards the young man followed by the captain's stern expression, then Mikey smiled to soften the impact. "Yes, McKenzie. I spent more of my career in front of these consoles than in the big chair. But there ought to be a regulation about captains getting their hands on the wheel once in a while, just to keep the muscles loose." Just then, Pigrather Talknegree stumbled up the entrance ramp, loaded with medkits and grumbling something unintelligible. "We're glad to see your pretty face, too," Mikey said sarcastically. "Find a place to strap yourself down." Grumbling again, Piggy stalked off into the rear cabin. As the hatch closed, Mikey commed the flight deck. "Team status?"

Carson's voice came back with a hint of anxiety. "Tigerfish cleared 35 minutes ago, everything functioning normally including the new camo system. All fighters awaiting your lead."

"Very good." Closing the channel, Mikey turned to McKenzie. "Lieutenant?"

Checking his consoles, McKenzie replied, "I have a strong beacon from each pilot, emergency comms passive but clear, reactive secondary shield generators powered and ready."

Mikey opened a channel to the fighters. "Thank you all. As they say on my world: 'May your hearts be as true as your aim, may you come through to fight again.' Launch two at a time after my lead, staggered 15 seconds. Flight deck - Metedeconk ready to launch."

"Metedeconk is go," came the reply, and Mikey eased the runabout out of the hangar and into space. Once clear, and trailing the full formation of fighters, he entered the coordinates for the outskirts of the target system and gave the order. They were on their way to wait.