Star Trek: Intrepid
The Double Edge - Part 2
by Galen Holcomb
(intrepidlogs@hotmail.com)

The Double Edge - Part 2

Chapter 3

An hour before, When Admiral Jellico had first heard Aubrey's proposal, he wavered between laughing in his face or placing him on report for having the audacity to announce something so preposterous.

"Did I get you right, Captain? Did you just suggest using Genesis against the Dominion?"

Per Aubrey's request, he and Jellico had left the meeting and were now seated in Legacy's ready room, where they could talk privately.

"Yes sir."

"Genesis?" Jellico stood up from behind the desk and towered over him. "Captain, I don't take kindly to having my time wasted. Every moment is precious. You'd better start convincing me right now that you're not deranged."

"I can explain, sir."

Jellico leveled the full brunt of his penetrating gaze at Aubrey. It was a humbling sight to behold. Usually, this particular look signaled the end of an officer's career.

"I can't wait." Jellico took his seat and folded his hands over the table. He all at once became the picture of civility. "Well?"

Aubrey cleared his throat. "Are you aware of our last mission before joining Tango Fleet?"

"Something about seizing illegal goods from some Ferengi, wasn't it?" He asked impatiently. "I didn't have time to review all of your logs."

Aubrey nodded. "We answered a distress call from a Ferengi merchant ship that had been attacked by Tholian pirates near the Romulan Neutral Zone. We chased off the pirates and offered aid to the Ferengi ship. But we became suspicious when they suddenly refused further help from us."

"Because they were obviously carrying something illegal. I'm sure they weren't thrilled to see a Starfleet ship charging to their rescue."

"Yes sir. Long story short, they had no choice but to accept our help in the end because they were looking at a core breach from the Tholian attack. I dispatched a repair team to get the breach under control, and well.... it didn't take long to detect the contraband. We were forced to confiscate it and place the Ferengi crew under arrest."

"Fascinating story, Captain. I have a few of my own. After the war we can bandy them back and forth over a bottle of whiskey. But in the meantime, I have a planet to save."

"With all due respect, Admiral, it gets better. The illegal goods the Ferengi acquired were a lot more 'illegal' than we thought. They had two weapons aboard their ship that they had been planning to sell to the Romulans."

Understanding dawned on Jellico's face like a breaking sunrise.

"Genesis?" He whispered.

"Genesis. Or, as it turns out, bad copies of Genesis. But still deadly enough to cause a planet wide disaster if detonated over a populated world."

Jellico flopped back against his chair and steeped his hands. "Where did the Ferengi get their hands on copies of Genesis?"

"We never did get it out of them. They seemed more afraid of betraying their supplier then holding out on us."

"Sounds like the Orion Syndicate. It wouldn't be the first time that Genesis material has turned up on the black market over the last 80 years. Where are the Ferengi now?"

"In custody at Starbase 47. We were en route there ourselves when I was given orders to divert to Archer IV and join Tango Fleet. I transferred the Ferengi to a Starfleet border patrol ship and had them ferry the prisoners."

"Then Starfleet's been informed?"

"For security reasons, I didn't transmit any of this over subspace. I told the border ship's captain that the Ferengi had been arrested for hauling endangered Tarian eggs within Federation space. He took my word without ever actually seeing the eggs."

Jellico glared at him. "Those charges would have been dismissed with a fine the moment they arrived at the starbase."

"Not likely, sir. I had the Ferengi injected with data coding which reveals their true crime, and my report. The moment they set foot on Starbase 47, a security scan would have red flagged the station commander with the details. I told the captain of the patrol ship to make sure they arrived at the Starbase to avoid the prospect of the Ferengi being dumped out on the way with a warning. "

The admiral considered that for a moment.

"What you're trying to tell me, is that you have two Genesis weapons aboard your ship at this very moment."

"Yes sir."

"And you're just now informing me about this."

Aubrey shifted uncomfortably in his chair, all too aware of gathering storm clouds. "When we joined Tango Fleet we were immediately involved in the battle at Archer IV. Afterward, I was preoccupied with repairs and crew replacements."

The captain knew that mentioning Archer IV might only add to Jellico's displeasure, for it was a touchy subject. The recent engagement had been a resounding defeat for the Tango group, which translated into a resounding defeat for Jellico, since he was in command. Seven ships had been lost, Dominion forces had overrun Archer IV and three hundred Federation colonists had been captured.

What was left of Tango Fleet had been forced to retreat to Betazed with plans to join up with the Tenth, whose numbers were also diminished. If the admiral had taken Aubrey's last remark as criticism, then the captain had just cast a dark poll upon the future of his career.

There was a beat of total silence in the room.

Then, with quiet precision, Jellico said: "Well, it's a good thing the Jem'Hadar didn't capture your ship and get their hands on Genesis, isn't it?" Each word was snapped off like a torpedo launch.

Wisely, Aubrey opted for the better part of valor. "Yes sir. Even with repairs, I should have found the time to give you a full report. There was no excuse for waiting so long." Before Jellico could respond, Aubrey leaned across the table.

"But I do know how we can use these weapons to save Betazed. Legacy has two runabouts aboard with cloaking devices. Instead of launching a direct attack, why not sneak in and explode one of the devices inside the nebula? It would destroy the shipyard and most of their fleet before they knew what hit them. Then we move in for the clean up."

"For that matter, why not regroup at Betazed, and launch our runabouts under automation? They could get within the attacking fleet and destroy them that way." Jellico countered.

Aubrey shook his head. "My science departments have had time to analyze the devices. They are bad copies, as I said. If they're detonated in the vacuum of space, with hardly any matter to affect, the wave won't travel far. Also, the Dominion fleet would be spread too thin for the reaction to do significant damage."

"The last time Genesis went off inside a nebula, it manifested an unstable planet." Jellico reminded him.

"These imitations aren't powerful enough to do that. But they're almost the same in every other respect."

"You're thinking that inside of a nebula, there's plenty of matter for the reaction to feed on." Jellico finished while rubbing his chin. "The matrix would consume the dust cloud, not only destroying any ships hidden there, but also the shipyard and any surrounding fighters."

"Including that Dominion battle cruiser they're ready to launch." Aubrey added.

From there, the discussion had become a debate. Jellico was quick to remind Aubrey that any use of Genesis technology, even if 80 years old, was still forbidden by the Federation Council. He also pointed out that there could be profound damage to the Federation's reputation and integrity after the war. How would other cultures view them, knowing they had violated their own ethics to save a Federation world?

Aubrey responded by saying that there would be no political fallout if they failed, because if Betazed fell, then it was very likely that the war would be lost. If the plan succeeded, then Jellico and he could shoulder all the blame, leaving the Federation's image only slightly tarnished.

This had actually caused Jellico to laugh out loud.

"Thanks for including me. Even if I agreed, you know that there's no way of clearing this through official channels."

In the end, he relented. Not because Aubrey's argument had been all that compelling, or because Jellico was known for thumbing his nose at Federation law. It had finally come down to something far more basic and fundamental:

Aubrey's plan was the best chance there was for saving Betazed.

Jellico's career and the Federation's reputation would just have to take second place.

* * * * *

Wily as a cat, the runabout Chin Ho glided towards its quarry, invisible to all but the most penetrating of sensing devices. Around the small craft, it's enemies prowled, exhibiting an almost palatable blood lust. Again and again, the hunters cast their tachyon nets, hoping to catch a prey that might be nothing more than the wispy figment of battle weary minds. But the hunters knew one hidden enemy had been found near them all ready-----it stood to reason there might be another-----or a whole armada. Perhaps it was the Klingons or the Romulans trying to catch them unaware.

Whoever they were, they possessed a weapon that not even the Dominion had seen before, something both dangerous and malevolent. Its existence was especially disconcerting in that it was a complete surprise. None of their intelligence gathering had prepared them for this new equation and the faint tickle of dread the weapon aroused only added more urgency to their pursuit.

So they continued to search, sweeping outward with ships and probes that blanketed the system with enough energy particles to unveil any cloaked object, no matter it's size.

"They're getting close," Lieutenant Pal said in a nervous whisper, as though Dominion soldiers might over hear him through the vacuum of space. "Very, very close."

Adol nodded. "They have a good idea we're here. At least we have fewer ships to evade. The bulk of their attack force just launched towards Betazed."

Pal shifted his gaze towards the Andorian, trying to decide if this last proclamation was meant as stubborn optimism, or fatalistic sarcasm. "Tango Fleet is moving to intercept. You know, we might be of more help to Tango Fleet if we used Genesis to take out some of those Dominion forces."

Adol couldn't help feeling new admiration for Pal. Although obviously frightened, he had just proposed a plan that would mean certain death for both of them. Even though that was still a certainty, he was glad to have a ready made excuse for turning Pal down. No wonder Vulcans were addicted to logic: there was no greater ally than sound reasoning-----especially when the natural conclusions favored your wishes.

"From this position, we'd never catch up to the Dominion fleet before being detected by these scouts that are protecting the ship yard. And even if we could catch up, this watered down version of Genesis would barely destroy enough ships to matter." With muted tones of respect, he added, "We found that out when the other device exploded."

Pal turned his attention to short range sensors. "We're almost there. But I don't think we're going to make it. There may be fewer patrols, but the tachyon nets they're using are concentrated more heavily in this area."

"Careful," Adol warned as he eyed his own board.

"I see it, " Pal said, and his right hand danced over the runabout's helm controls.

The ship veered sharply to starboard, narrowly dodging a tachyon shower.

After a tense silence, Adol commented: "As you said, they're getting very, very close."

Pal shook his head. "The only way we're going to take out that nebula is if we launch Genesis at warp speed."

Adol looked back at his longtime friend and knew beyond doubt that Pal had gone mad. "A warp jump within 10,000 kilometers? Totally impossible."

"No it's not. I saw a test done a few years ago. It just takes the right programming."

Both antennae atop Adol's head pointed forward like gun turrets. "Those tests were done under computer control. And that was with a starship's drive system and core. You're proposing we can do it with a torpedo launch and some fancy algorithms, I take it."

"It can be done." Pal declared, sounding like a pool player discussing a tricky bank shot with the eight ball. "Our torpedoes already can launch at warp speed. They just need to be told where to de accelerate and when to explode."

"Of course. How could I have been so blind?"

"I'm serious. No one knows launchers like I do."

Feeling hope stir within him, but refusing to give it purchase, Adol searched his own expertise on torpedo launchers for a reason why Pal's idea wouldn't work.

He didn't have to search far.

"The torpedo's drive core would have to create, then collapse a warp field in about one nano second." Adol informed him. "If the warp envelope stays active for even one trillionth of a second longer than it should, Genesis could overshoot the nebula by 100,000 kilometers."

Lieutenant Pal folded his arms and cocked his head to one side. He looked at Adol with an expression that made the Andorian feel like a naive pupil who had, in a moment of youthful rebellion, just challenged his master's most celebrated theorem.

A proximity alarm began beeping with persistent rhythm. Adol was grateful of the need to give it his full attention.

Pal immediately transformed from wise teacher to panic stricken cadet. Deathly pale, his eyes skittered around his console, absorbing the unwelcome data that was flashing on the displays. "Oh God." He moaned. "There-----there are fighters sweeping our section. We've been detected."

"Disengage cloak and bring shields to full power." Adol said calmly.

"They'll be in weapon's range in four minutes." Pal whispered.

They both locked eyes with one another.

"How long would it take you to program that launch sequence you were just bragging about?"

But Pal seemed someplace far away-----someplace where he was surrounded by specters of Hell, damnation and eternal judgment. For a moment he became lost in a labyrinth of panic and hopeless dread, unable to find his way out-----trapped in his fear as surely as a wooly mammoth mired in tar pit and facing it's own extinction...

Pal ran a trembling hand across his mouth. He had the answer to Adol's question, but his throat had closed up like a clam and his mouth had ceased operating all together.

Through the blinding light of panic, one idea finally pushed it's way to the surface-----a single vision of his personal identity that rose above all others. He clung to it as though it were a life raft in a storm tossed ocean.

He was a Starfleet officer, dammit, not a cringing cadet without discipline or honor to give him purpose. He was a Starfleet officer who knew about duty and who was quick to tell anyone who would listen how much he cherished honor.

And sacrifice. The pilots from the Legacy had unflinchingly made the ultimate sacrifice-----there was no doubt about what kind of officers they had been.

But what mettle Lieutenant Douglas Pal was made of, had yet to be seen.

Adol must have seen some of these demons playing about Pal's face, because a look of deep concern caused the Andorian to momentarily furrow his brow. He opened his mouth, ready to speak.

But whatever Adol might have said next would forever be left to the imagination, because Pal was quicker on the draw.

"The sequence is already keyed in. I'll target and fire, you just keep those fighters off our backs for a few more minutes."

With that, Lieutenant Pal turned back to his console and went to work, his eyes ablaze with determination.

* * * * *

Admiral Jellico had hoped to move the fleet in front of Dominion lines, intercepting the enemy and forcing them to slow their progress as the two armadas clashed. This would also delay the invaders from reaching Betazed for a bit longer-----and every minute the enemy fleet was slowed was another minute that Betazed had to marshal their limited defenses.

Jellico got much of what he wished for when the enemy broke their flanks into two fronts; as part of the armada continued on to Betazed, the other part turned around and rushed towards Tango Fleet at full speed. Spear heading the charge was the Jem H'dar battle ship.

Aboard Legacy, Lieutenant Reeve looked at the oncoming wave of attackers and said "Oh my God."

Jellico sat at the first officer's position next to Captain Hiroko even though he was the commanding officer on deck. He had no interest in running her ship-----Hiroko still commanded Legacy and would give whatever orders she deemed necessary for the benefit of her crew. Jellico had enough on his plate as caretaker of Tango Fleet.

"Excelsior and Miranda wings: your job will be to clear a path for the Galaxy and Sovereign units to get at that battleship." Jellico dictated through the COMM system. "All other ships assume attack pattern Alpha Two-Two One."

"Excelsior Wing Acknowledges." Came Aubrey's crisp reply over the speakers.

"Miranda Wing Acknowledging." Was Captain Donovan's response barely a second later.

* * * * *

Aboard Intrepid, Aubrey settled into his command chair and forced himself not to pace the bridge. Although he thought well when he was walking, he refrained because this habit would do little to calm the nerves of his officers.

His Vulcan first officer, Commander Shantok, raised one of her eye brows ever so slightly.

"Captain, incoming message from Resolution." She reported.

"On screen."

The main viewer swept away the stars and replaced them with a young man sporting a mop of unruly white blond hair.

Captain Donovan grinned. "Hi, Jason."

"Hello, James. How's that rickety old piece of junk you're flying, these days?"

"You know, Jason, we Norse are very touchy about insults to our vessels." Donovan did his best to glower menacingly. "Honor demands that I challenge you to a duel."

Aubrey rolled his eyes. "In that old Miranda class ship, you'd be just as likely to blow yourself up before doing me any harm."

"Oh, really? Intrepid's not exactly a spring chicken herself. Maybe you're jealous because Resolution's a few years younger?"

"More like a few months." Aubrey laughed. Then, smoothly moving into a more serious tone, he said, "So, do you Miranda boys want to take point this time?"

"Sounds good. But try to stay out of our way. I won't have time to save your butt like I did at Archer IV."

"I'll keep that in mind. But in all seriousness, be sure to stay out of my way. After you Mirandas make your first run, we'll be launching a quantum salvo."

"Got it." Donovan replied. Then his grin slackened into the worried face of a starship commander. "Watch yourself, Jason. We're bucking the odds on this one."

"You know it. See you at the victory party. Aubrey out." He switched off the channel.

Shantok knew human conduct too well for her to react to the preceding exchange with puzzlement or haughty resignation, as other Vulcans might. She knew that humans more often than not relieved stress with banter or humor. To disregard this obvious facet of human interpersonal behavior was illogical. So instead of giving the matter undue thought, she instead chose to offer her captain useful information.

"Sir, the enemy fleet is approaching at full impulse. They'll be in weapons range in eight minutes. The Dominion battleship has dropped behind and the fighters have shifted in front of her."

"Standard Jem'Hadar formation." The captain muttered. "Lieutenant Fidel, " he said to the Indian woman at OPS. "Tactical view."

The forward view screen swiftly changed to a three dimensional schematic of both converging fleets. The images were powered by the ship's state of the art astrometric sensors and were incredibly detailed. The viewer would retain this mode for the duration of the battle.

Five Miranda class ships flashed by, forming an arrow head configuration as they shot towards the enemy fleet. Captain Donovan's battle wing was already racing into combat.

Aubrey's own Excelsior Wing would be only seconds behind.

He tapped a panel on his armrest. "Aubrey to Excelsior Wing: assume attack pattern Diamond. I repeat: pattern Diamond. Fearless and Repulse; you'll take bracketing positions to us. Berlin, bring up the rear-----and Captain Al-Chaideb: don't forget to guard your port nacelle, you never did get it patched together after Archer IV."

"If the Dominion so much as scratches it, I'll make the Founders go shopping and buy me a new ship." Berlin's commanding officer joked over the scrambled COMM channel. The tinny sound of laughter could be heard in the background.

"Let's hope not. The Founders have lousy aesthetic sensibilities." Aubrey pivoted his chair around to face the rear of the bridge. "Tactical, ready on weapons. Stand by for a torpedo cluster at my signal. And lets get the transport inhibitor on line while we're still thinking of it."

Acknowledgments came from various members of the bridge crew.

It was only a few minutes later that Tango Fleet engaged Dominion forces in a storm of phaser fire and explosions.

But not even a psychic could have foreseen the bizarre turn of events that would unfold from the ensuing battle-----or the repercussions that would ripple across the Federation for years to come.

Chapter 4

Torpedo away!" Douglas Pal shouted.

Lieutenant Commander Adol watched as a streak of light peeled off the runabout, a visual indicator of warp speed. Would the torpedo hit the Nebula? He would have been taught with anxiety wondering, were it not for the minor distraction of four enemy fighters trying to blow his ship out from under him.

"Shields at 64%," Adol declared as he hung on to his console for dear life. "I'm re routing auxiliary power to core containment." Not taking his eyes from the operations board he added: "We can't take more than a few hits. Let's hope Genesis made it. If so, we should see something in exactly one minute."

Pal smiled thinly but kept his attention on dodging enemy fire. He was a musician, a grand pianist, and the helm controls were his keyboard. The runabout danced through space at his commands, nimble as a wood fairy, evading beams of hostile energy-----or at least trying. Three knifing pulses missed the runabout-----but a fourth found its mark. There was a jarring thump as though the ship had just collided with a large asteroid, then both pilots were engulfed by a cascade of sparks.

"Damn!" Pal cursed as he felt minute burns take hold of his hands and face. "That couldn't have been good."

"It wasn't." Adol coughed out as glanced at his display screens. "Warp is gone. Shields are now down to 37% and the impulse manifolds are destabilizing. This is as fast as we're going to go."

Then Adol frowned, his singed antennae pivoting forward.

"Pal, why do you keep moving us closer to the nebula? Another few thousand kilometers and we'll be hit by the Genesis wave when it goes off."

Pal gritted his teeth. "I know, believe me. These fighters have us boxed in. I haven't been able to make headway back towards the fleet or out of the system."

"You may not have to take us far." Adol replied as he studied the console to his right. "I'm reading two Starfleet ships less than 10,000 Kilometers away. It's Intrepid and Repulse. They're under fire-----and it looks like they're been forced in this direction as well by enemy ships. I can't signal them with all the interference from this nebula. I don't think they'll see us for the same reason."

"But why would the Jem'Hadar want us near the nebula?" Pal wondered.

"Because they have more ships hidden there. They'll emerge at the last minute in a surprise attack."

"Divide and conquer." Pal agreed darkly.

"I'll see what I can do about coaxing a little more speed out of our broken engines. See if you can point us towards Intrepid. She's closer-----and packs more firepower."

"Aye, sir." Pal replied. It wasn't much of a chance. But if they could get under Intrepid's heavy guns, their odds of survival would change from zero to a respectable 'very slim'. Although it was probable that Intrepid wouldn't survive either, being sandwiched between two groups of attacking craft.

More tense moments passed. Then Pal said: "I've gained some distance from those fighters that are tailing us-----but they're only a few minutes behind us."

Before Adol could mouth a reply, every alarm on the runabout went off at once.

He checked the instruments. Then he looked at Pal with concern. "Genesis just detonated inside the Kokala Nebula. I guess you were right about those calculations after all."

Despite himself, Pal couldn't resist watching sensors to see the impending demise of Kokala. There was something alluring about witnessing the destruction of an elemental space body.

He hated himself for it.

But he looked anyway.

After a minute of anxious waiting, however, the nebula continued to stare back at him, unscathed.

Puzzled, Lieutenant Commander Adol began putting the runabout's sensors to work. He noticed that something was wrong immediately.

"Strange. I read the Genesis torpedo exploding and I see the wave expanding, but-----"

Pal leaned over Adol's board. "It's stopped." Pal murmured in awe. "The Genesis reaction stopped expanding just under the nebula's surface."

Adol was quite literally struck dumb. A tremor of foreboding stirred within him-----not like the familiar threat of death that he had been so far operating under-----this was different. It was because he recognized this oddity for what it was: a treacherous twist of the unknown, manifesting itself as the unknown often did, at the worst possible time.

"Maybe it misfired," Pal volunteered. "The captain did say it was a bad imitation."

"There's no way." The Andorian replied quietly. "Genesis uses proto matter to create a runaway cascade effect upon any matter it touches. This replica uses the same process. It would be just as impossible for the reaction to halt mid way, as it would be for a lightening bolt to stop in midair and float over it's target."

Pal stroked his blond goatee, and then looked out the forward view port at Kokala. "You tell me, then. The nebula should be gone by now."

"Wait a minute," Adol exclaimed. He hurriedly began working his board, tapping panels so fast, his fingers appeared to be making strikes at random.

Pal studied the cockpit ceiling with resignation. "There's more bad news?"

"I wouldn't call it that. Sensors show between 40 and 50 Jem'Hadar fighters leaving the nebula."

Pal stiffened with alarm. "That sounds like bad news to me!" he blurted.

Adol was unperturbed. "They're not leaving under their own power. The fighters are all dead. They're being ejected from the nebula-----and I'm showing zero power readings and no life signs."

Pal was relieved, but curious. "Why? Could it have been Genesis?"

Adol shrugged. "I suppose. From what I can tell, the molecular structure of those ships has been changed, jumbled somehow."

Pal grinned. "Sounds like Genesis. We accomplished our mission without having to destroy the nebula."

"Don't get cocky. Something's very strange here. We had better-----"

His voice trailed off as once again, alarms began squealing throughout the runabout.

"I've got something on long range." Pal announced. "But I don't know what it is just yet."

Adol squinted at the same data. "Some kind of localized disturbance in space-time. Temporal and spacial fluctuations."

Pal checked his board twice to verify what he was seeing. "I've got more details now. The disturbance is a narrow stream of quantum entanglement, characteristics similar to a wormhole, but spatial dimensions are more constricted."

As they both watched, a jagged filament of energy jumped outward from the vast dust cloud and moved in their direction. It seemed to writhe like a living thing.

"It's coming our way." Pal said. "I think I should change course. Our engines may be shot so I can't go faster, but we can change direction-----we still have thrusters."

Adol nodded. "A few degrees should do it."

"Firing port thrusters. Coming starboard two degrees deviation." Pal smiled for the third time. "Hey, it looks like this thing has our Dominion friends out there spooked. The pursuing fighters have broken off from us and are falling back."

The Andorian got up from his chair and stared intently out the view port. "I'm getting a little spooked myself." he remarked, and his antenna twirled in agitation. "That disturbance changed course right after we did. It's on a collision course with us."

It took Pal only seconds to confirm his friend's statement with the computer.

"That can't be. Let's change course again."

But a few seconds later, the phenomenon repeated. Pal tried a third time, and still the aberrant distortion continued to close on them, zig zagging through space like a crack spreading across the ice sheet of a frozen lake.

"Sweet Jesus," Pal grunted. "It's tracking us."

* * * * *

The Dominion battle cruiser targeted its sights on the Federation starship Legacy, then cut lose with enough destructive power to level a continent.

The Galaxy class vessel reeled under the onslaught. Her bridge burst into flames and a spider web of fractures spread throughout her saucer and secondary hull.

Legacy's captain, Caroline Hiroko, was pummeled with fragments as she tumbled through the air until impacting with the rear bridge stations, which were a blazing mess. Dazed, she lay in a pile of smoldering rubble like a discarded mannequin.

Taking advantage of a hole in Legacy's shields, three Cardassian gun ships fired on her starboard engine nacelle. The combination of directed energy and photon warheads took its toll on the support pylon and the starboard warp engine blew away from the ship.

Forced backward by the explosion, warp plasma was pushed through the injector pathways and down into the ship's warp core. Half of the engineering crew was killed instantly as a conflagration swept through the entire section.

Commander Winston, the ship's chief engineer, immediately called up a contentment field around the warp core as the choreographed dance between matter and anti matter degraded into anarchy. He began the procedure to jettison the core before the runaway process could blow the ship into molecular dust.

Again and again the cruiser was hit by hostile torrents of energy-----each beam seeming to find a new weakness in Legacy's shields.

The plasma coolant tanks ruptured, flooding engineering with deadly gas. Horrified, Winston watched crew members on the other side the containment field shriek in agony as the fumes began to eat away their flesh and bones.

On the bridge, Admiral Jellico, stubborn as a mule, crawled into the now empty captain's chair. His first order of business was to return fire. With most of the bridge stations unmanned because of casualties, he accessed weapons control from the command chair. He set the computer to fire continually at all enemy targets. Next, he diverted any remaining power into the shields. With that done, he initiated an evasive course with which to buy time.

"Damage report all hands!" he yelled into the crackling COMM system.

Only silence greeted him.

He tapped his combadge. "Jellico to all hands. Report immediately."

A few unintelligible noises came over his badge, but nothing more.

He was prepared to try again, when the ship's proximity alert beeped. Something equal in size to Legacy was moving in fast.

Then, on the main viewer, a Sovereign class ship blazed into sight, shielding Legacy with her own hull, her phasers and torpedoes smashing outward at the Dominion warship and her surrounding entourage of fighters.

Jellico shook his fist into the sooty air of the bridge, yelling in delight.

It seemed that the starship Nagasaki was still alive and kicking.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Perboda, newly assigned counselor to the U.S.S. Intrepid flinched as the ship rattled and shook around him. He wished desperately that there had been time for a duty station to be assigned him. Unfortunately, the battle began before the standard processing routine for a new transfer could be finished. So here he was, watching his new home get demolished, and he had no office, no damage control station and no orders to follow.

Worse, this new ship was full of strangers. When he had served aboard Legacy, he had been able to fortify his courage by reminding himself that he had to set an example to the crew, who would look to him for comfort.

Here, no one knew him. No one would take strength from his composure. No one would seek his counsel with their silent looks of desperation as they ran by him in the corridors. Here, it was he who needed comfort.

His quarters continued to shake violently and through his windows he made out blurs of motion, bursts of light and angry slashes of red and blue energy-----all evidence of a horrendous battle being waged.

The Orion felt pretty confident that Aubrey would see the ship through this battle. After all, he was supposed to be some kind of military genius, according to his personnel jacket.

He was less certain about the ship. She was old. And not that big, either. The Excelsior line was a proud one-----no one could call the class puny-----and in their day, they probably had seemed like enormous luxury liners...but put one along side a modern class like the Galaxy or Sovereign, and they began to look a little diminished and fragile.

He recognized in himself the psychological need to seek protection by surrounding one's self in a large structure. It was a common trait shared among many humanoid species. (To say nothing of small frightened animals.)

Recognizing the feeling and dismissing it however, were two different things entirely.

He had felt safe aboard the Legacy.

He had felt safe because it was a big ship-----because there were a countless number of decks and layers of material between him and the austere wilderness of deep space.

Given time, he would probably feel safe aboard Intrepid as well. Of course, Starfleet officers weren't supposed to prefer safety-----they were all self admitted risk takers, right?

Maybe what he had meant was-----confident.

Yes, that was better. He would feel more confident about this ship someday.

Perboda was abruptly knocked to the deck as an ear splitting concussion slammed through the hull. He was sure the ship had been ripped in half. How could it be in one piece after an impact like that?

He soon realized that the ship was still intact. If it weren't, common sense told him that he would most likely be dead, presently discussing his life with whichever being claimed soveregnty over the multiverse.

He smiled at his own fear, his own weakness-----and his foolishness.

He reminded himself that not everyone aboard was a stranger. It also occurred to him where he might be of the most use at a time like this.

What he had to do was march up to the bridge and shake the captain's hand.

There was a confused gap in his thinking at that point, as his mind stuttered over it's own data like a damaged computer. Shake the captain's hand? Where had that thought come from? At a time like this? And yet, he could see himself doing it, walking up to Aubrey, stretching forth his hand to clasp the captain's, a firm squeeze-----

All at once, the desire became so strong that he found his feet moving towards the door.

When the powerful urge deserted him, Perboda felt oddly disoriented, as though he had stepped into a once familiar room that had been unexpectedly altered. He looked about him absently, trying to collect his scattered musings. As he was doing this, the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up.

Someone was watching him. He could feel a sinister presence in the room with him. Someone standing right next to him-----

He spun around, crouching into a defensive fighting posture, expecting a Jem'Hadar soldier or some other fiend preparing to strike.

The room was empty-----and within seconds the strange sensations that had overcome him were utterly forgotten.

Where had he been going?

Ah, yes. To see a friend.

It took barely three minutes for him to reach sickbay.

As soon as Dr. Kella saw the doors open, she broke into a wide grin. "Am I glad to see you. " She said with a heavy voice.

Perboda saw injured crewmen every place he looked. Every biobed was occupied, every chair full. Nurses and paramedics were treating personnel as they lay upon the deck. It was an atmosphere of organized chaos.

Kella pointed towards a crewmember that sat on a chair just to his right.

"She needs your help." was all the Bajoran chief medical officer said. Then she began barking orders to her medics as she bent to treat another crewman.

Perboda noticed the crewmember she had pointed out was a young woman, wearing a temporary splint on her left leg, which was set across the chair's armrest. Her torn trouser was crusted with dried blood. Her face sported a terrible bruise.

"How are you, Ensign?" he said in greeting. "I'm Lieutenant Perboda, the ship's counselor."

She was young-----early twenties and blonde. She tore her gaze from another part of the ward to acknowledge him. She looked up at him, through him.

"My leg's broke." she replied mechanically. "I'm waiting for it to get mended so I can get back to duty." She returned her eyes to a set of closed doors just a few meters away.

Perboda followed her look. The room that had her attention was the main OR.

"Someone you know?" he offered gently.

She blinked, feeling her numbness begin to crack.

"My husband." she said hoarsely. "Plasma burns. Not sure, I'm not sure if-----"

He saw that even at this fresh young age, even under these conditions, she was a proud woman. There was no doubt that tears seldom touched her cheeks.

But regardless, a renegade drop stole away from her, tracing the purple, swollen contours of her right eye. She had probably allowed it freedom only because it wouldn't draw notice in the commotion of sickbay.

Intrepid's new counselor had his work cut out for him.

Chapter 5

"Taggert, come in. Do you read?" Captain Al-Chaideb's voice was strained and panicky as it hissed over the speakers. "We need assistance, I repeat: we need assistance immediately."

Taggert's voice crackled back in reply. "Stand by, Berlin...under attack...Aubrey, are you out there? Jem'Hadar is jamming..."

"Jem'Hadar are trying to jam all the frequencies, sir." Rodriguez announced from Intrepid's tactical station. "But I have visual contact."

"Rotate subspace frequencies." Aubrey ordered. "Try to keep an open link."

As they drew near, the bridge crew was greeted by a grim tubule.

U.S.S. Berlin was now a flaming, battered wreck. Holes riddled the Excelsior ship's saucer and sleek engineering hull. Drive plasma boiled from her nacelles. Fighters, Jem'Hadar and Cardassian continued to slice into her skin without mercy.

"Are we in weapons range?" Aubrey demanded.

"48 seconds." Shantok replied.

Rodriguez wrung his hands over the tactical board. "I don't get it. I thought Repulse and Fearless were in this section."

"I've got Repulse." Fidel said from OPS. "She's fighting a Cardassian warship." Her voice tense with agitation, she added, "Their engines are down and their shields are almost gone. No sign of Fearless."

"Intrepid to Berlin," the captain said into the COMM system. "We're on our way."

"Aubrey can you hear me?" Captain Al-Chaideb's desperate tone came back over a storm of interference. "We've had to abandon ship." More static blasted through the speakers. Then, his voice a mixture of fury and helplessness, Al-Chaideb yelled: "Help my crew! Hurry! Those bastards are shooting down our escape pods. Damn them! Aubrey, Taggert, somebody save my crew!"

"Ten seconds to weapons range." Shantok said.

"Not good enough. Rodriguez, send torpedoes ahead of us. Target those fighters off her stern. Fire at will."

Quantum warheads ripped from Intrepid, slashing through space at one half the speed of light. Two enemy fighters were vaporized as the projectiles plowed into their hulls.

"We've got a welcoming party coming in off our port bow." Rodriguez reported.

Shantok looked up in alarm. "Five enemy craft-----three Jem'Hadar fighters and two Cardassian gun ships, Lamphet class."

Bracing himself against his command chair, Aubrey looked at the forward view screen and saw his mortal enemies bearing down upon him, upon his ship and upon the freedom that he and billions more cherished.

* * * * *

What was left of the Excelsior wing battled for close to twenty five minutes. In that time the U.S.S. Repulse was annihilated by the Cardassian destroyer she had fought so valiantly against. Oddly enough, Berlin survived longer-----despite being in worse shape. But before either of her sister ships could reach her, her overloaded warp core lost containment. Her drifting escape pods were enveloped by the devastation and she became a loss of all hands.

Alone and outnumbered five to one, Intrepid faced down her executioners. With some expert maneuvering, she had managed to only engage a few enemy ships at a time, keeping her damage to the minimum-----but now those tactics were exhausted and her enemies were about to surround her.

Then, the unexpected arrived on stage.

"Captain," Shantok looked perplexed.

With five enemy vessels only minutes away from locking weapons, Aubrey was calculating different strategies that might save his ship and running each one through the simulator of his mind. He had just decided upon a course of action-----this was not the moment he wanted a distraction.

"Quickly, Commander. We're about to have company."

"I'll be brief." she replied indignantly. "There is a massive disturbance taking place at the heart of the Kokala nebula."

That got his attention.

"Genesis. It has to be. Is the nebula destabilizing?"

"No sir." she replied with a trace of confusion. "The Genesis reaction has stopped."

"That's impossible."

"I would normally agree. But even through the interference, the reaction registers with great clarity. And Captain, I'm showing something else as well."

She overlaid a separate image on the main viewer. An energy tendril was leaving the nebula, snaking outward at fantastic speed.

"What the hell is that?" the captain asked.

"At this distance, we can't identify it, there's too much interference. But it just came into contact with a small vessel." With added importance, Shantok held the captain's gaze. "Configuration is definitely a Federation runabout."

Aubrey was on his feet. "Which one?"

From tactical, Rodriguez answered. "I have the computer projected courses for each runabout. We know that the Montr‚al was destroyed. This one has to be the Chin Ho."

"Still in one piece. I'll be damned if Adol and Pal didn't survive. They must have tried to complete their mission."

"But someone or something is interfering." Shantok said.

Aubrey stepped up to the raised command deck she was standing on.

"Shantok, you said that thing out there came into contact with our runabout. Can you tell what it did to them?"

She took a breath before responding. "I just scanned through a hole in the interference pattern. The runabout seems to have completely disappeared."

Fidel interjected from OPS. "Sir, enemy contact in two point two minutes. Mark."

Aubrey returned to his seat with the knowledge that he probably would never know the fate of his missing crewman, who had just blinked out of existence.

* * * * *

Admiral Jellico watched the U.S.S. Legacy break apart on the central view screen. His face covered with scratches, his uniform torn and nursing a head wound, he was barely able to keep his footing as the starship Nagasaki shook from the force of the explosion.

"Operations: report. How many survivors?" asked Captain Zorek, Nagasaki's commanding officer.

"We've transported 347 crewmembers from Legacy, Captain. Including Captain Hiroko. Sick bay reports that her injuries are not life threatening. She is expected to recover." The response was immediate and efficient. But then, that was to be anticipated from a crew of Vulcans.

Jellico turned to Zorek. "We need to press the attack, Captain. That battleship must be destroyed."

The elderly Vulcan nodded. "Agreed." Before discussing further strategy, Zorek offered: "It is regrettable that more of Legacy's crew could not be saved."

"Yes it is," Jellico allowed. "But she did her job. That warship is on the ropes. I know we don't have much of a fleet left, but we'll have to hit that battle wagon out there with everything we have."

"The battleship is weakest here," Zorek pointed to a schematic displayed at a nearby tactical station. "We'll need to concentrate our assault on its port quarter."

"Transmit coordinates to Fearless and Resolution." Jellico ordered. "We'll circle around and start our run as soon as they're both in position. Let's get it done."

Banking into a sharp turn, the Sovereign class Nagasaki swept up and away from the cloud of wreckage that was Legacy. At the summit of its arc, she met up with two other starships, an Excelsior and Miranda class vessel.

Together, the three Starfleet ships fell upon the Dominion battle cruiser, unloading a fearsome barrage of energy.

* * * * *

"Hull breaches on decks 12, 17 and 22!" Rodriguez shouted from tactical. "Shields are at 47%!"

"I have incoming fire from all directions." Ensign Fidel announced.

Intrepid thrashed and shook as she was buffeted from every angle at once.

The auxiliary science station that Shantok was manning suddenly convulsed into flames and exploded like a bomb, burning her left hand and half her face. She slammed against the rear bulkhead and fell to her knees.

Even as she regained her feet, her mind was moving the pain of her burns to another place, where the sensations would not interfere with her duties.

A free standing console on the starboard side blew out as an energy cascade wiplashed through the system. The station quickly became a small fountain of sparks and smoke.

Debris was now raining across half the bridge. The smell of burning conduit and plastiglass permeated the air. Eruptions of coolant gas whooshed over the crew as cracks opened in the bulkheads.

"We're at 34% shields!" Rodriguez yelled over the din of destruction. "Warp core is off line."

"We have casualties on decks one through nine!" Fidel reported.

Five enemy ships now circled Intrepid, raking her with fire. With her warp drive gone, the Jem'Hadar smelled blood in the water.

A small console stood just starboard of the captain's chair. This station gave Aubrey more detailed information than the main viewer-----and versatility. If necessary, he could over ride the helm controls, fire phasers or allocate ship energy all with the touch of a finger-----thereby saving precious time by not having to relay a command through his crew. During an engagement, even a few seconds difference could be the deciding factor between life and death.

Such a time was now. The captain saw an opportunity to use an idea that he had planned well in advance.

"Helm, I'm overriding controls, plotting a new course along the Z axis." He said, tapping rapidly on his personal console. "Tactical, execute Aubrey Theta. We have a fighter group dead ahead."

Intrepid's RCS thrusters burned, sending the mighty starship into a barrel role. At the same time, she dove "downward" in relation to her attackers. Dominion fighters pursued her, hungry to make their kill, confident of the inevitable victory they would enjoy.

For victory was life.

What happened next occurred too swiftly for any Jem'Hadar pilot to react to.

The Starfleet ship's hanger doors parted, and from her belly a small fleet of shuttlecraft slid into the night. The four sentries, under automated control, instantly set collision courses with the pursuing fighters.

The shuttles jumped outward, crashing into the enemy vessels at warp speed. The faster than light missiles hammered past the enemy's shields and penetrated their hulls in the wink of an eye. Severely damaged, the fighters became drifting wrecks.

Of the five Jem'Hadar vessels, only one now remained.

* * * * *

A few thousand kilometers away, a Cardassian warship crouched. After dispatching U.S.S. Repulse in short order, the ship's commanding officer, Gul Balog, had decided to view the demise of Intrepid. It was always gratifying to see an opponent squashed, even if the Jem'Hadar lacked the refinement of the Cardassians, who savored each victory like a fine bottle of kanar.

As he watched, his interest quickly escalated from mild to intense. He was astonished to see an aging, crippled Starfleet ship incapacitate four Dominion fighters without firing a shot.

He took a seat and studied his tactical information to see how the remaining fighter would fair against this unusual opponent.

He soon had his answer.

Unable to bring the Starfleet ship down with weapons, the remaining fighter had opted for a suicide run. Balog knew the signs, for he had seen many Jem'Hadar fighters resort to collision courses when other tactics failed to stop an enemy.

But apparently the Starfleet captain, whoever he was, anticipated the move.

Rather than performing an evasive maneuver, the Excelsior class ship came about and accelerated directly towards her attacker.

Balog noticed a cloud of subspace interference suddenly intensify around the Dominion ship and knew immediately what the Starfleet commander was doing.

Ingenious, he thought. Using the ambient subspace noise generated by the nebula, the Federation commander was employing his ship's deflector array to intensify it and channel it outward as a cone of static-----so that the Dominion vessel was blinded and would have to rely on visual contact alone to find it's target.

There was more. The Starfleet ship was now firing torpedoes directly at the fighter's visual sensor array. Even as the fighter evaded the weapons, all five torpedoes detonated in rapid succession, the consuming flashes designed to confound visual input. Sightless, the Jem'Hadar tried in vain to keep their trajectory.

Now the Federation starship was veering away at the last possible moment, grabbing outward with its tractor beam, clutching at the passing fighter as it blew past its target. The beam snagged the Dominion ship, but could not hold it. But yanked hard by the graviton field, the fighter was pulled off course, wobbling erratically as it spiraled out of control.

It took only seconds for the ship to right itself. But the Starfleet captain put those seconds to good use, striking the fighter with repeated phaser shots, keeping it on the defensive.

Then, the final kill. The fighter had now blundered directly into her enemy's torpedo sights. Quantum warheads leapt free and the Jem'Hadar vessel was reduced to a fog of burning plasma.

Gul Balog was no longer interested.

He was absolutely staggered.

Fascination and anger mixed in him like a volatile cocktail. "Who IS that?" he demanded of his crew.

"It is named 'Intrepid'." his first officer supplied-----then cringed as he beheld the look of contempt his answer had drawn.

"Not the SHIP, you imbecile!" Balog snapped.

He stood. His next words were a tossed gantlet to all within earshot.

"I want to know WHO commands that vessel."

* * * * *

Darkness, silent and oppressive as a crypt, settled over engineering. The absence of noise within the fragile bubble of a starship was an alarming event, for sound equated to life. Sound was the throbbing of unimaginable energy powering engines, or the hum of the life support grid, which circulated air and produced heat and gravity. All of these things made noise to one degree or another, and all of it was as comforting to a crew as a mother's beating heart was to a baby within the womb.

Auxiliary power suddenly splintered the silence, as the ship's systems roared back to life.

As light flooded the engineering section, Lieutenant j.g. Cal Benjamin pulled himself off the deck. He gingerly touched his forehead, which had just made contact with another crewman's elbow. He had a painful bump, but he doubted it was anything serious.

Stumbling to the master system's display, Benjamin sought out an update on the ship's status.

The young chief engineer cursed as he surveyed the damage.

Plasma injectors shot, warp core down, hull breaches on seven-----no, make that eight decks, six phaser couplings fractured and shield generators at 42% output.

And that only scratched the surface.

Commander Shantok's voice filtered over his combadge.

"Mr. Benjamin, we need main power as soon as possible. There is a Cardassian destroyer in pursuit of us."

Benjamin took in all of the botchery as he gazed at the main display, and for a panicky moment he didn't know where to start or what he should do first.

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then answered. "Ma'am, we have damage to the plasma injectors and possible micro fractures in our dilithiam crystals-----and it looks like our whole EPS grid is fried."

"How long?"

"I uh, I don't know just yet." he ran a hand through his coarse, black hair. "At least four hours. Maybe longer."

There was such a long period of silence on Shantok's end that Benjamin suspected his combadge had gone out.

Finally, Shantok replied, "Propulsion, weapons and shields are the top priorities."

"I'll give you a better estimate in a few minutes but Commander, whatever I can restore will be running at less than 20% normal levels."

"Continuous effort, Lieutenant. I shall expect an update in ten minutes. Shantok out."

"Yes ma'am." he replied, and shook his head. She just had to say 'continuous effort'. If she only knew how much she annoyed everyone with that phrase.

* * * * *

The U.S.S. Nagasaki drifted in space, bruised and damaged. Proudly, the Sovereign class vessel floated through a mist of particles that had once been a Dominion warship of considerable fire power.

"Nice work, Captain." Admiral Jellico said.

Captain Zorek eased out of his command chair with the type of grace that only 145 years of life experience could produce. As he stood, he casually brushed fragments of the bridge from his lap as though they were nothing more than lint.

"Thank you," he replied simply. "However, it was a joint effort."

"True enough."

The Vulcan captain stroked his gray beard in reflection as he took in the carnage around his bridge.

He turned to his first officer. "Complete damage report in two minutes, if you please."

"Yes sir." the younger Vulcan replied, then retreated to the rear of the messy control room to gather information.

Jellico took a nearby station and began calling up data.

"I need to know the tactical status of the fleet." he said.

Jellico read through the information, his mood sinking as each fact presented itself.

"It looks like we're all that's left of Tango Fleet. Resolution is in one piece but they've taken a hell of a beating." his eyes darkened slightly in grim acceptance. "We lost Fearless. No survivors. The rest of the Excelsior wing was destroyed, I show wreckage near the nebula. Too much interference to read details but that Cardassian destroyer out there seems to be alone."

Zorek was checking his own information at the first officer's vacant seat. "I have concluded a long range scan out of the system." His tone betrayed his concern.

"What's wrong?" Jellico asked immediately.

"Betazed. Dominion forces are attacking. It would appear they have already overwhelmed the planet's defense perimeter and are now in orbit. I am certain that as we speak, assault forces are arriving on the surface."

Admiral Edward Jellico trembled with rage. He fought off the temptation to scream obscenities at the top of his lungs-----or at least to smash something within reach.

"There was little that could be done to prevent this, Admiral." Zorek said dispassionately. "Dominion forces split into two halves-----part of their force engaged Tango Fleet while the other proceeded with the invasion. Even reduced by half, the Dominion fleet still surpassed our numbers."

Jellico held up his hand. "Captain, I don't need a summary of the battle-----and I don't need any misguided efforts to make me feel better. A lot of lives were lost today, and more are being lost this very moment on Betazed. I can't just stand here and watch those bastards take the planet. I won't allow all these lives to be sacrificed in vain."

"Regrettably, I can see no immediate way of completing our mission. We are but two badly damaged ships facing a sizable armada."

They both paused as Zorek's first officer approached.

"Your report sir." he handed Zorek a PADD. "My presence is requested in engineering. With your permission, I shall proceed there to assist with repairs."

"Granted." Zorek replied.

"Admiral. Captain." The first officer nodded to both men before leaving.

Zorek scanned the PADD, instantly committing it's contents to memory before setting it aside.

"Captain," Jellico began again. "We may only be two ships, but we'll have to find a way to make some kind of a difference. Our duty is to Betazed."

Zorek considered his response carefully. His long life had taught him the wisdom of tact when having to dissuade people from a course of action that was unwise or wasteful. Tact was even more of a requirement when the person in question was one's superior officer-----a superior officer who happened to belong to a very emotional, often times reckless, species.

In truth, Zorek emphasized with Jellico. Vulcan culture taught people that bad luck and fate did not govern the universe, predetermining the lives of its tenants...

Still.

He couldn't help but marvel at how much misfortune had over shadowed the activities of the late Tango Fleet, even when the laws of probability had been solidly in their favor.

First, there was the disastrous battle of Archer IV, just a short time ago----three hundred Federation colonists trapped on the planet and now prisoners of the Dominion.

Then, the battle of Betazed. Tango Fleet had the secret advantage of Genesis technology and the fortuitous possession of cloaking ships at their disposal. Despite these attributes, they had not succeeded.

Finally, circumstance, which worked to their disadvantage. If the Tenth Fleet had waited before going on maneuvers or had been closer to the system, Tango Fleet could have joined forces with them before engaging the enemy. The battle might have leaned in Starfleet's favor.

But almost nothing that had occurred was in favor of Jellico's task force.

The admiral's frustration and determination to do something, anything for Betazed's population was understandable.

However, understandable or not, Zorek would have to convince the admiral of that which logic demanded: a strategic withdrawal.

Before he could speak, his tactical officer interrupted his thoughts.

"Captain, long range sensors indicate a large configuration entering the Betazed system."

"Can you get a definite ID?" Jellico asked.

When the Vulcan tactical officer looked up from her board, Jellico swore he saw emotion on her face.

"Admiral. Captain. It is the Tenth Fleet. They have arrived and are entering the Betazed system."

Tango Fleet had been the warm up act. Now, the battle for Betazed was about to ignite into a roaring tempest.