Outer Zone by Peter Wildash ACT 4 DECEMBER 24, FEDERATION COMPLEX, 04:00 hours The comm panel trilled again and Louise Jackson opened her eyes. The chronometer next to her desk was a surprising relief; at least she had achieved several hours before being disturbed. Something caught her attention, twinkling lights dancing around her darkened room from outside. Hauling herself up on her elbows she peered through the bedroom's high windows. In the space all around and above her, ships were jockeying for position to leave the system, like a massive interstellar traffic jam. What was hindering their departure were many whiplash tendrils from a fierce magnetic storm spreading across the local space. The energy was filling the space between her lunar residence and the planet Vekaria below. There were even ships hovering just above the port structures; in her short stay on Helub, Jackson knew these were not normal shipping lanes. She remembered the comm signal. "Jackson here." She rose and took a better look at the scene outside. "Sorry to disturb you, Commodore, but we've got thousands of people outside the complex demanding asylum." Inaami must have gone off duty, Jackson thought. "I'll be right down." Minutes later, the Commodore passed her son's door. She thought about going in, but saw the door panel displayed the privacy lock. Arriving in the lobby of Operations, the doors opened to a significant amount of activity. There were many Starfleet security officers forming groups, and she could see her core team had gathered around the main stats board. Instinctively she looked around, wondering if Leonard or some other officer was laying in wait for her arrival, but there was no one. Through the crowd she thought she saw her son, and a curious thought crossed her mind about the door lock, but the face disappeared as soon as it had shown itself, and Jackson decided she must have been mistaken. As she crossed the foyer, she collided with a short and young security Ensign. "Oh!" the Ensign absorbed the impact, but still stumbled. The Commodore's size had kept her own position steady. "Commodore, I'm so sorry-" "It's okay, Ensign??" "Souveson, Sir." The Canadian accent had a French lilt, and the blonde-bobbed youth was blushing from her eyelids to her collarbone. "How long have you been in Starfleet, Ensign?" Jackson always took a moment to talk to junior officers if the situation ever arose, and as Inaami appeared to be organising the pandemonium of Operations, she took this moment to pause briefly before her long and arduous day began proper. "Two months, Sir. This is my first deep space assignment." Souveson looked nervously to her unit who were regarding her with a little jealous contempt. "Keep your eyes open, Ensign. Carry on." Jackson sidled into Ops leaving the Ensign answering an explosion of questions from her comrades, yet wondering if there was anything behind the Commodore's polite words. The situation was dire. Commodore Jackson listened as her staff reported that the panic on Helub had reached a critical level. Many ships had launched, unauthorised, and held illegal and dangerous holding positions for a clear flight path away from the star system. Many more ships were now contained within the port by the local authority - outer doors sealed. Their crews were not happy, and nor were the Qovakian citizens who were crying out for protection from what was in their minds an impending attack from a rebuilt K'Tani fleet. Official port-side broadcasts from the government had pleaded for calm and tried to reassure its people that the storms were just an unusual disturbance and that apart from pure conjecture, there was no apparent evidence of an attack and not one clue to there being a K'Tani fleet in the vicinity. Still, the overcrowding situation had brought much of the port's normal activities to a halt. Communications and sensors off-world were inoperative, and contact had also been lost with the fleet. Now many Alpha Quadrant citizens, from all nations, were converging on the Starfleet and Federation complex. Repeated calls to the Qovakian, Vekarian and Helub authorities had been unacknowledged. Some dialogue had been established with fellow Visitors the Ferengi and the Klingons who even had some ships in port. "We'll do the same as on Rinarto 6," Jackson decided, "using soft forcefields to herd the crowds into safe areas." "We have received a request from the Vekarian police," Inaami said, "they are desperately under-resourced and want to supplement their own force with our security teams." Jackson had little option but to agree. "How many officers do we have?" "300 - they said they would need them all to be effective." "Give them 200. We need the rest to secure the complex." Jackson turned to Djansky. "We must establish communications with the Fleet. We may need them should evacuation become necessary." "Evacuation?!" cut in Lieutenant Commander Corrigan of Security, acting somewhat the egocentric with so many personnel under his command. "You believe the attack is real?" "Whether I believe it or not is irrelevant," Jackson pleasantly scolded, "but with so many civilians under our charge we must be prepared for the eventuality." "I'm not sure that's possible," Djansky said. "The magnetic storm is too great." "You must try. Use whatever means necessary - establish links with our associates the Ferengi and the Klingon, perhaps between us we can find a way. Petri," Jackson spoke to the slight South American, "help Djansky with this. Use administrative staff as foot messengers if you have to. Now, how's the medical department faring?" Inaami spoke for the absent CMO Doctor Beintz. "Medics have been treating people round the clock - partly for the flu but mostly as a result of the overcrowding. The hospital facility is only operating at about 30% capacity, but engineers are working to improve this as we speak." Jackson noticed the lack of engineers present in Ops. "Any word from the Qovakian authorities?" Djansky shook her head. "They're receiving our communications down the local net, but not responding. I've even tried invasive commlinks, but I've been cut off every time. Only the police are speaking to us, and they only seem to know as much as we do. I'll keep at it, Commodore." "Very good. Any contact with our people on Vekaria?" "Same situation," Djansky frowned, "everything's off-line. It's a communications nightmare." Jackson sucked her left cheek in and clucked it. "Okay. I'll prepare a speech for the crowds outside and work on raising Vekaria. Inaami, I want you to go to Status 2, just in case." "Aye, Sir." Inaami thought as much. Status 2 in Starfleet terminology was one of three levels of security status within a Starbase. Status 1 involved securing perimeters and standing by at alert status. Status 2 meant implementing pre-ordained escape routes or coming up with new ones if necessary, including transport and protection of lives in the process - it also meant securing the base for controlled destruction so that Federation information and technology would not fall into the wrong hands should there need to be a rapid departure. Status 3 would come later, when all the above would be put into practice. "Dismissed." Jackson strode into her office to begin the arduous task of trying to get hold of someone who would listen. Inaami turned to the security teams who were moving out to take up positions and spied the Ensign who had collided with the Commodore earlier. "Ensign!" Souveson turned and snapped to attention. "I need someone to monitor internal security." Souveson hesitated - she didn't like being apart from her team, and she was horrified to discover old technology being used in the base's Operations centre. Everything at the Academy had been state of the art, and using older systems required a change of mindset that to Souveson was uncomfortable. "Aye Sir!" She briefly turned to her disappearing and smiling friends, envious of her opportunity to be in the nerve centre of what was going on. * * * DOL BATTAKI INTERSTELLAR HOTEL, VEKARIA, 05:30 hours Lirik stirred and sat suddenly bolt upright. He hadn't been dreaming, but he had awoken with a terrible feeling. The bedclothes were soaked and he felt exhausted. His stomach churned and for a second he thought he was going to be sick. But the reason for his nausea had come from the Medusan side of him. He walked over to the drapes in his room and pulled them apart, peering up at the dark, pre-dawn sky. Thick clouds rumbled with thunder, and gave no hint of the violent energy storms taking place above the world. But Lirik knew that it was there. He could feel it, pulsating and wrestling, lashing out at the gathered ships in Vekarian space. The heavy feeling caused him to be unfocussed. Shutting his eyes he took a few deep breaths and pulled his Medusan focus inward. Meditation had not come easy to such a pre-occupied and active mind, but this one technique he felt he had mastered. Once feeling steady, Lirik took the precaution of adjusting his environment shield to a higher setting. The shield provided the added protection of containing his Medusan energies. Although they were a part of him, so contained beneath his skin and out of the view of humanoids, the ambient energy around him caused people stress when in close proximity, and even a violent attack of horror or nausea if in direct contact with his skin. He could control the energy, let it seep out of him and become visible and even use it to paralyse or render someone unconscious. But most of the time he controlled it. Kept it hidden. And used his shield to avoid accidental contact with others. There was a soft but rapid succession of knocks at his door. "Who is it?" "Chabal." The female voice answered. The Antarian was a freelance bodyguard for her people's Ambassador to the Federation. He had met her a couple of times socially - she was a pleasant, quiet person, not afraid of his Medusan energy like others were, or at least, not apparently afraid. Lirik opened the door, pulling on his robe. The bodyguard was also dressed in her night robe and looked concerned. "They're gone," she said. "The Antarian delegation?" Lirik assumed. "Everyone," she replied, "all the delegates are gone." Lirik couldn't quite believe it. "I check in on the Ambassador every hour. He was there one hour ago, but now he's gone. I ran into the Vulcan security guard in the corridor outside his room and she said the same had happened to her people." He reached for his communicator badge and tried to raise several delegates without success. Lieutenant Hiller, a wiry Australian command officer assigned as one of several pilots assigned to Federation delegates appeared in the door behind Chabal. "There's the mother of all magnetic storms up there," he was almost excited, "communications off world are down." "Have you come from Helub?" Lirik wondered. "No, I tried to go there to pick up some supplies from the port, but was forced back." He ran his fingers through a mop of sandy hair, his golden arm and hand hairs catching the light and distracting Lirik. "Downstairs I just heard that all the delegates have been called to start the proceedings early." "From who?" Lirik couldn't quite believe that all the delegates would have disappeared from the hotel. "The receptionist," he replied matter of factly. "Unbelievable." Lirik thrust hands on hips. He walked over to the comm panel, turning back to the Lieutenant. "Don't you move." Hiller winced, suddenly remembering that as a diplomat the Yeoman was his superior, and he hadn't called him 'sir' even once. * * * FREE TERRITORY, FORMERLY THOLIAN SPACE IN THE ALPHA QUADRANT, 07:30 hours The journey back to the wormhole had felt depressingly quiet. For the past hour, Rebbik had joined Christian in the cockpit of the Pod and the two had sat in silence. "Look, about reading your personal logs?" Rebbik began. "You seemed to find them quite amusing," Christian remained facing forward as he spoke. "No, no ? well?" Rebbik decided to be honest, "I'm not exactly in a position to laugh at anyone else, now, am I?" "Really? I assumed it was a favourite pastime of yours." Christian hadn't meant to sound hurt. "I was drunk," Rebbik continued to justify himself, "and I let my private thoughts out." There was no apologising which would get him out of this one, he decided, and opted for a self-critical approach instead. "I've got a big chip on my shoulder, you see, Captain." Christian turned to face the renegade, his voice having changed to a suppressed anger. "Oh?" "Let's just say I'm a product of my own heritage," Rebbik slumped back into his seat. Christian expected more, but there was none. A proximity alarm sounded. "Approaching the wormhole co-ordinates," Christian confirmed. "Care to take over?" Rebbik sat forward and complied. Christian moved back into the aft. Rebbik was puzzled. "Don't you want to see her open up?" Christian was disappearing below and called back, "Seen one wormhole, seen 'em all." Rebbik turned back to the task in hand. As the cloudy purple, blue and pink orifice swirled open, Rebbik flipped the controls to manual and the time-lapse device on. The wormhole journey would be relatively long, requiring entry and exit at sub-light speeds - the exit point was set on the edge of an asteroid field, and Rebbik had heard rumours of eager pilots reaching a swift demise in the first wave of ships to reach the Outer Zone. * * * QOVAKIAN SENATE BUILDING, VEKARIA, 07:45 hours Having established that the delegates had indeed been awoken in the early hours to begin negotiations ahead of time (harking back to an ancient tradition in Qovakian diplomacy), Lirik and the markedly increased number of attendants made their way rapidly to the government buildings in the heart of the city. Security was over-tight and it took them more than an hour to get into the main concourse outside the Senate auditorium. However, all doors were sealed and there was no sign of any delegates. Lirik tapped on the clerk's desk again. "Excuse me," Lirik was smiling his disarming expression, suppressing the desire to get angry, "do you know what's happening?" The clerk flushed, mostly from his distinct lack of knowledge - he only knew he was to tell people to remain where they were until further instruction. "I'm afraid not, sir, but as soon as I do -" "You'll let me know, I guessed as much," Lirik straightened and turned, leaning obtrusively on the clerk's desk, much to his annoyance. An aggressive exchange was taking place between another Vekarian clerk and the Bajoran assistant to his world's representatives attending the conference. Thirty minutes ago, Lirik and all the other administrative and support staff had been ushered into the main lobby area outside the huge senate chamber. Only the delegates themselves were missing. "Excuse me," the clerk said, placing his hand on Lirik's shoulder, causing a slight ripple in Lirik's active environment shield. "Oh!" The clerk withdrew his hand as if burnt. "It's okay," Lirik said, "I have to wear this personal energy field for ? medical reasons. No harm done." Lirik checked the field generation control on his sleeve, just to be sure. The clerk nodded mutely, and touched his earpiece, cocking his head slightly. "Senate security have intercepted a man in our docking port. He just arrived on an unauthorised transport and is demanding to be released to attend the proceedings. He claims to be a Federation delegate." Lirik decided that this distraction would at least relieve the boredom of waiting for word on the goings-on within the Senate chamber. "Tell them I'm on my way." Ten minutes later, in the small yardmaster's office, a cylindrical tower overlooking the stylish boarding gates of the Senate building, Lirik beamed mockingly at the detained delegate. "Ambassador Narli, how nice of you to show up." The older Andorian sat unflinching, a gaunt, almost impassive look on his face. "I was delayed on urgent business in the spaceport above." "Urgent and unauthorised business," Lirik corrected. He wouldn't embarrass the Ambassador here, despite his desire to humiliate the obstinate man for his gall. "I'll take it from here, officer." Lirik led the Ambassador out into the vacant plaza in front of the boarding gates. He stood at least a head and shoulders above the plumpish Yeoman, his pert antennae adding several centimetres to his overall height. "So," Lirik turned to face him, "do you know what the hell is going on here?" Narli remained silent. "The rumours of attack from a recently decimated army, the panic in the space port, the unusual magnetic storms ? what do you know?" Narli almost smiled. "You were never this impertinent in Starfleet Intelligence." Lirik pointed at his comm badge that had a single, thick red diagonal slash across it. "Diplomatic Corps, Ambassador. It gives me the right to kick your butt from here to the Federation Council Chamber if I want. Now, are you going to give me a straight answer or not?" Despite his verbal agility, Narli wasn't fond of these human exchanges of antagonism. On his home world, men would kill each other over less. But then, on his world such exchanges were rare if not held in high esteem. Narli knew that Lirik knew this would merely rile him, and despised the Yeoman's attempt to make him uneasy. "What do you know of the Ore?" Narli spurted it out so Lirik had to review the sentence in his mind briefly before responding. "I don't know that name. Should I?" Narli shook his head. "It's not important. However, my getting into the Senate chamber is." "Ah. I'm afraid they won't let you," Lirik said. "They started proceedings hours ago and they're not letting anyone in or out." "We'll see about that," Narli launched himself toward the Senate house in long strides, causing Lirik to skip a little to catch up. * * * CIVILIAN SERVICES LEVEL C, FEDERATION COMPLEX, 08:00 hours In the cargo bay converted to a crèche for the under 9's, Lieutenant O'Hara surveyed the rolling, tumbling mess of children surging around the room. Kids were never her strong point - the youngest of a large family, she'd grown up knowing the ways of older children. Crewman Lee, medical technician, had joined her and was not much help, cowering by her side in shyness. "This looks like fun," O'Hara quipped. "Oh, come on," Lee muttered, "inoculating these children should take all of twenty minutes? shouldn't it? Just get them into two lines, and hey presto." "Let's find out." O'Hara moved into the middle of the room. "Please, can I have your attention?" The children took no notice. "Hey, everybody, let's play a game." Louder, but only responded to by one little boy beside her who shrieked a tiny 'yay'. Waving her arms about, O'Hara tried another tactic. "Hello, please stand still and listen!" Her voice must have been heard, but there was still no response. Lee shrugged her shoulders at O'Hara, who pouted for a moment, then hollered in her loudest voice: "SHUDDUP!" The children were as stone. "That's better. Now, were here to give you all a little injection-" no sooner as she had said the word, the little ones were a frenzy of noise and movement. This was going to be a long morning. * * * QOVAKIAN SENATE BUILDING, VEKARIA, 08:15 hours Turning toward the plaza, a sea of people moved towards Lirik and Narli. They seemed to be heading for the docking bay. "What's going on?" Lirik blocked the path of a Vekarian policewoman, but she didn't reply and bodyswerved to avoid him. A Brakonian clerk behind her answered Lirik's question. "I heard that all the delegates have been air-lifted to the Space Port." "What?!" Lirik cried. "They can't have." He thought for a moment then said: "They were never inside the Senate. They must have been taken directly to the port in the middle of the night." "I suggest we head back to the space port as well." The two men began to jog, to try and get ahead of the main crowd. "Your transport?" Lirik suggested. Narli shook his head. "It was damaged in the trip here. What about your runabout?" "Not available." "Then we must find something else." * * * WORMHOLE, 08:30 hours Christian sat down in the co-pilot seat as Rebbik adjusted controls for exiting the wormhole. There were strange readings flashing all across the command panel. "Electromagnetic activity is high on the other side of the wormhole," Rebbik surmised. "There's a lot of activity there." Two black objects shot past the Pod heading in the other direction. "Whoah!" "What were they?" Christian couldn't get a fix. "Hell knows," Rebbik chimed. "But even more to the point, what's that?" Ahead of them, thin, black tendrils were reaching into the wormhole. The exit point was open, but the black object seemed to be reaching inside, tapping the energies within the wormhole. The Pod wasn't happy. "There's a power build-up outside the Pod," Rebbik couldn't believe it. "Only one option left." Without warning, Rebbik hit the accelerator command to shorten the journey time out of the wormhole. Using his keen eyes, Christian could see the massive black vessel stationary at the mouth of the wormhole, spiny extensions reaching inside - it was like no technology he had seen before. Call it luck, but Rebbik chose to plunge the Pod downward on exit. Had he chosen to fly up in any direction, he would have flown smack into the centre of the vast numbers of the K'Tani fleet. As it was, it took all his skill and speedy reaction time to avoid the now moving asteroids - it was supposed to be a stationery field. Turning the Pod, he hit all reaction control thrusters and brought the vessel to rest, thudding into the side of a large asteroid. "What the hell was that all about?" Rebbik asked. Christian couldn't answer him. All sensor and communications systems had gone off line. But the clear view through the window of the Pod's cockpit showed the frightening image above. An entire fleet was gathered above them, and they appeared to be manipulating energies from the wormhole and what appeared to be a magnetic cloud formation. "Is it an invasion?" Rebbik's voice had calmed and he leaned forward, alongside the Starfleet Captain, to peer up at the multiple formation of vessels above. "I don't know. I wonder what they're doing up there?" energy was obviously crackling about the larger, odd-shaped vessel. Without warning, the Pod shuddered, its hull knocking against the close asteroid. A weapon had been discharged at them from below starboard. "Which way?" Rebbik shouted. "Away from them!" was Christian's reply as the strange, black vessel came alongside and turned for another head-on shot. Rebbik was quicker and reined the Pod's prow up and away between three colliding rocks. The vessel pursued, but being of a longer length than the Pod, had to pull back and select an easier route. As Rebbik quickly hit the perimeter of the asteroid field, a further debris field lay ahead. In front, still sparking, were the ragged remains of the Firefly. Its name was still surprisingly visible on its small upper section. "Oh my God," Rebbik was horrified. "? My ship ?" Christian could only manage. Then: "Life signs?" Rebbik didn't have to speak; the familiar negative beep-beep informed them that sensors were inoperative. As another energy blast coursed past them, though admittedly at long range, Christian knew they wouldn't be able to check for survivors. "Let's get out of here," Christian said. "Where, though?" Rebbik wasn't used to feeling this much out of options. "Vekaria," the Captain watched as Rebbik engaged maximum impulse and the remains of his first command were left behind. * * * QOVAKIAN SENATE DOCKING BAY, 08:45 hours "Coming through! Make way!" Lirik was moving through the crowd to the front where armed police and soldiers guarded the entrance to the departure gates. He was carefully supporting the Ambassador, who seemed disoriented and weak. His right antenna was decidedly crooked. Reaching the Vekarian policewoman at the point, her colleagues formed a wall behind her. "This man is seriously hurt," Lirik pleaded, and the Ambassador groaned and stumbled to add to the effect. "I must get him to our medical facility on the space port." The Vekarian shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir, my orders are to hold everyone here. Magnetic storms are preventing a safe passage, anyway." "Do your orders include being responsible for the death of a delegate as well?" Lirik said in his most superior tone. The guard didn't want to be seen as obstructive, but nonetheless had to verify the man's claims first of all. "Name?" "Lirik, Yeoman Tix Lirik, Starfleet Diplomatic Corps," Lirik stated, "and this is Andorian Ambassador Narli." The woman grabbed the Vekarian equivalent of a padd from a soldier beside her and entered a few commands. "Ship's name?" "Ah," Lirik had to think fast, "my vessel has been relocated to the space port, however, there are other transports authorised to take me." The woman regarded the padd again. Lirik was growing restless and jogged Narli to make another loud groan. "Look, is this going to take long?" Lirik pleaded. The officer looked over the padd at him and Narli. Lirik added: "I have full jurisdiction and security clearance." He was beginning to feel the woman was seeing through his ploy. "At least let me aboard a vessel with Federation medical facilities." Lirik wondered why he hadn't thought of this in the first place. The officer turned to the soldier who in turn called a more junior rank over. "Take them to the Vulcan vessel. I'll request soonest transport for you once I'm authorised." "Thank you," Lirik moved forward, much to the annoyance of those he was leaving behind. A stream of people wanted to know why he and the Ambassador had been given priority over them. Narli grumbled, no doubt in protest to being forced to continue with the uncomfortable ruse for longer than expected. The soldier led them through the gates and into the empty concourse beyond. Through a long bank of high viewing windows, Lirik could see the fifteen or so transports docked. The small Vulcan craft was of the minimalist style of old. Once a long-range shuttlecraft, it was now home to three scientists of good repute. The walk to the gangway gave Lirik the opportunity to think aloud his assessment of the situation. "From what you have told me the Vekarians have lied not about the situation as it stands now, but about what happened years ago, at the end of their revolution. These Ore people you spoke of were sacrificed to bring victory to Qovakia, their race wiped out. Only the victory was short lived because now the K'Tani are back." Narli grunted. "Okay, allegedly back. Now the Federation delegates have been whisked away to safety - safety from what? An attack? And these magnetic storms? and the lost communication with all vessels. No, Ambassador, this situation is Not good." Reaching the outer airlock of the marble-effect vessel, Lirik used the comm panel to patch through to the flight deck. "This is Yeoman Lirik, I'm on official Federation Council business and need immediate access to your sickbay." 'And your flight controls,' he thought to himself. "Yeoman Lirik," the soft male Vulcan voice replied, "we were not expecting you." "Ambassador Narli has been injured, he needs immediate treatment," Lirik could feel Narli was truly waning now. "Our sickbay facility is minimal, surely he Vekarian hospital-" the Vulcan was only trying to be helpful. "Look! Just open the airlock, please." Lirik could feel the soldier's gaze. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. A couple of breaths later, the airlock opened to reveal a beautiful human woman, regaled in Vulcan attire and attended by Vulcan men. Vulcans were highly sensitive, despite mastering emotional control. As Lirik stepped over the threshold the two attendees practically jumped back in surprise. The humanoid woman was puzzled, but as Lirik came closer, she could feel it as well. The Vekarian soldier had purposefully held back to keep distance from Lirik and observe the whole scene. "What you are feeling is the ambient effect of the Medusan energy which exists within me," Lirik handed the Ambassador to the two almost reproachful looking attendants. Once Narli had left him, he increased the environment shield to full power. "Our medical unit is this way," the woman said and gestured to her left. Not more than six paces away, a small recess in the corridor wall provided medical scanning for the Ambassador's dislocation. The woman, olive-grey skinned, Mediterranean looking, had begun to treat the Andorian. Lirik knew it would not take long, so he had only a few minutes. He turned to the soldier who had followed them inside. "He'll be fine now, thank you," he said, "but I would like to keep the Ambassador here, to monitor his progress." The guard moved back to the open airlock and spoke into his helmet mike. He then nodded to Lirik and jogged back to the boarding gates. Once he was out of eyeline, Lirik grabbed Narli's antenna and snapped it back into position. The Andorian yelped and reeled back, his perceptual senses taking a nasty jolt - aside from a splitting headache, the Ambassador would be fine. The woman didn't react, except to say, "Why were you deceiving him?" Lirik ignored her. "I need to see your Captain." "There is no Captain," she said softly. Lirik found Vulcans annoying at the best of times. Humans who simulated Vulcan behaviour, he couldn't help but feeling were a bit fake - certainly hiding something. "Well, whoever is in command then!" Lirik could feel the minutes ticking by, unsure of what would be the outcome of this incident. "The crew have been instructed to obey the commands of myself and the other scientists-" she managed to say before Lirik turned to Narli and snapped. "You okay?" the man nodded. "Let's get to the flight deck." The woman led the way and the Andorian asked, "What's your name?" "Karnak. Professor Karnak," she responded. Lirik caught Narli hungrily looking at the woman's figure. She was slender with jet-black hair, greased back in Vulcan fashion, and dark features. Her dress was very clingy and Lirik wondered briefly if the sexy human could evoke an emotional reaction in Vulcan males - or females, he reminded himself. Reaching the compact flight deck, the trio found two more Vulcan attendants. There was no obvious rank structure. Instinctively, Lirik looked out of the viewports to the skies above. Of course, nothing could be seen beyond the clouds or even the thick rain that had begun to team down from the sky. Even with the best hull composition, there was no escape from the thudding on the roof like thousands of booted mice. The Vulcans didn't react, even when Lirik began to check their displays and read the sensors, such as they were. "Is there a problem?" Karnak asked, almost human. "There is indeed," Narli said, sidling closer to the Professor. "We feel it would be in our best interests to ignore the current flight restrictions and return to the space port above." "Indeed we do," Lirik reiterated. "We believe Vekaria, perhaps all of Qovakia, is in danger of imminent attack." "From the K'Tani?" Karnak asked, then added: "It has been widely speculated on today's Vekarian news broadcasts." "You seem to be in command, Professor," Lirik regarded the woman, and decided she had a superior look about her, "I could quote you a whole stack of Federation regulations in order to requisition this ship, but it would be much easier if you just let us take her out." Karnak thought for a moment, then complied. Narli dropped into the pilot's seat and Lirik sat beside him. "Great, no docking clamps," Lirik reported. "Inform your crew to brace themselves," Narli turned back and gave Karnak an up-down look, "it could be a bumpy ride." Narli deferred the drive system coming on line until all other systems were at the ready, giving him the few seconds he would need in case the dock had a tractor beam. "Still nothing on subspace communications," Lirik reported - he wondered if a Starship would be a better destination than the spaceport. "Here goes", Narli pulled away from the gangway attached to the side of the ship, closing the outer doors a hair's breath later, much to the relief of a passing Vulcan guard who was hit by a rush of wet wind from outside. The moment Narli engaged manoeuvring thrusters, the yardmaster was hailing them. Lirik didn't respond. Internal systems on-line, Narli twisted the vessel to point straight up and hit the accelerator. There was no resistance from the Vekarians. * * * STARFLEET HQ, 08:46 hours Souveson stared mesmerised at her security panel, nothing had changed. Save for the random viewscreen showing images from around the complex, there was no movement. Inaami had successfully secured the complex and ushered civilians into wider corridors further out by way of the soft force fields. There was still no word from the fleet and total silence from the local authorities, although the crisis within the port had not abated. A single, minor control flickered briefly. Souveson could detect nothing, but it was an unusual reaction from her equipment. She boosted the system to beyond normal safety parameters, giving her added vision, and this time there was a steady, repeated anomaly on the board. "Sir!" she called to the Commander. "We have an intruder in one of the lower storage bays." Inaami looked around quickly - she and Jackson were reviewing the corridor layouts around the complex for possible egress routes. "We're okay up here, Ensign, you'd best go take a look yourself." "Aye sir." When she had gone, Petri called over. "Commodore, Vekarian police have reported that one of our officers is stirring up trouble among the civilians." Jackson walked over to the security monitors and saw someone shouting at the crowds in the wide corridors at the bottom of the complex. "Leonard!" Jackson said the name through clenched teeth. * * * VEKARIAN SPACE, 08:47 hours The Pod, slightly damaged, limped toward the Vekarian system having made three short jumps at low warp to speed up the journey time. Warp travel was unstable in such magnetic activity, and each time they surged forward the field collapsed. "Still no pursuit." Rebbik reported. Christian was bent over his own panel, studying the visual images of the alien ships, trying to work out what was going on. He felt sure their intended target was not the Alpha Quadrant, or they would have passed through already - the strange ship feeding off the wormhole was the biggest clue to that. Christian stopped dumbfounded. He reeled back the image a few frames and watched again, as there was a flash of light from within the cloud. He could now make out a barely visible conduit running from the ship with tendrils in the wormhole into the magnetic cloud on the other side of the fleet. He zoomed in, and although the Pod's sensors were weak and the image fuzzy, he could see that more ships, just beyond view, were steadily heading into the magnetic cloud. Slightly before the flash inside the cloud, there was a flash at the wormhole's mouth. "Could it be??" Christian said. "What?" Rebbik demanded. "Slow to half impulse, change to bearing ?" his voice trailed off, for in front, the Vekarian system was closing fast. A few small ships were scooting off, away from the system in all directions, but the main action was taking place in the heart of the system. Masking the sun, a huge magnetic cloud, just like the one at the mouth of the wormhole, was spewing forth many tiny ships that were engaging other vessels. Christian could make out Federation, Cardassian and Romulan ships in dogfights. They were not faring well. He looked at the repeated image on his display again "They were using the wormhole to create many more smaller ones," Christian said. "They'll be able to deploy troops throughout Qovakia." "Should we head back," Rebbik asked, fearing for his life and the further safety of his Pod, "get help from Starfleet Command?" Christian shook his head. "We wouldn't stand a chance. Besides," he deleted the image on screen, "the wormhole would have become unstable." "You mean ? we're stuck here?" Rebbik was getting annoyed now. "For the present. I suggest we head for the moon." Christian, Rebbik noticed, had added the extra pip to his collar. "Through that?" Rebbik watched as several starships were badly damaged by the aliens. The magnetic storm wasn't helping any. "From what I can see, they're only targeting ships with weapons capability. You have none." Christian turned to see Rebbik staring at him. "In your own time, Mister Rebbik." Rebbik turned back to the front in time to see a Starfleet vessel explode in a shower of white/orange energy. It was the Ajax. * * * STARFLEET HQ, 08:48 hours Jackson heaved her way through the crowds towards Leonard's raised position. He was shouting, telling people to make their way deep below the complex, and they seemed to be listening to him, surging towards the down-ramps and stairwells leading deeper into the complex. "Commander!" Jackson bellowed at him. He almost laughed at her appearance, having tried to contact her for so long. "Commodore, am I glad to see you." "You've got a lot of explaining to do, Mister. Consider yourself relieved of duty." Before Leonard could respond, Jackson's comm badge trilled. Jostled by civilians making their way deeper into the port, Jackson had trouble hearing Inaami speak. "Commodore, we can see many vessels entering orbit. They appear to be engaging Federation and Qovakian ships in combat." Jackson stared at the scurrying people about her and hardly heard Leonard speak: "I told her, I knew about the invasion?" "Go to Status 3, Commander. Set the systems to blow in 30 minutes, I'll be up as soon as I can." * * * STARFLEET HQ, 08:49 hours Souveson crouched low in her hiding place. The Orion woman hadn't seen her. Just as she was about to make her move, the complex became alive with the sound of klaxons, startling the thief. Souveson made her move and launched at the slender woman, knocking her to the floor. Hedrik, not unfamiliar with unarmed combat, easily hoisted the small security guard up and over her body. "Damn!" she cursed. She'd had a horrible feeling about the job this morning, and had been in two minds whether to proceed or not. She wished she'd stayed in bed. * * * 08:50 hours O'Hara and Lee could barely hear the klaxons above the noise of the children. When they did, they gave a horrified look to each other. The cargo bay was a designated shelter, so O'Hara and the group were required to stay there until further instruction. Thankfully, the children didn't seem to know what the invasive sound meant. * * * 08:51 hours Inaami looked out through the Operations windows. An evacuation order had been given, as had a final destruct sequence for the complex. As she looked up, wave after wave of ship was coming towards the moon, presumably to attack defensive points and Vekarian military bases. Despite the Commodore's earlier expression of confidence, Inaami could see that Starfleet and other forces were not faring well in the dogfight above. Suddenly, Inaami looked back at the ships heading for the moon. She realised, briefly, that they were not ships at all. They were weapons, and they were on a direct course for the spaceport. * * * 08:52 hours Narli brought the Vulcan vessel bucking wildly above the storms and into the high atmosphere. The scenes of carnage in front of them were a shock - even Professor Karnak stood and gasped at the horrifying scenes of destruction. Suddenly, on the moon above, they saw several streaks of light. There was no mistake - the spaceport was under attack. * * * 08:53 hours The lights winked out above Jackson and Leonard. Multiple, far-off booming noises shook the port, and systems overloaded with the sudden surge. There was pandemonium, and the ceiling rippled, then crumbled all about them. * * * 08:54 hours Dozens of tiny screams filled the cargo bay with a piercing noise. Lights failed and O'Hara was knocked over by the force of the ceiling and walls exploding inward. * * * 08:55 hours Although Souveson had Hedrik pinned, the booming noises above released her grip and the Orion slid free. Instead of running, however, she stood, facing the small Canadian, then looked up. Lights flickered, a rumbling sound grew louder and the space above their heads was filled with fire and debris as the two women dived for cover. * * * 09:00 hours In the space above the moon, away from the dogfighting, Rebbik and Christian looked at the damage caused by the attack on the port below. It spread for many kilometres, but he guessed the port was far from destroyed. However, there would be many thousands dead and injured. He saw Rebbik's look of disbelief when suddenly the comm panel chirped. "A message?" Rebbik said. "Let's hear it," Christian's face was a contorted mess. Through static, the Universal Translator converted the language to Human English. "Attention Citizens of Qovakia, and our Visitors from the other side of the wormhole. This is the K'Tani fleet. Stand down your weapons and surrender. Anyone not complying will be destroyed." Without warning the Pod bucked as if suddenly in a choppy sea. Christian checked the limited sensor information in front of him. He spoke without looking at Rebbik. "The wormhole ? it's gone." = TO BE CONTINUED =