Star Trek: Mariner
Episode 007:
Vindication
by Bodie A. Ashton
(uss_mariner_01@enterprise.startrek.org)

Episode 007: Vindication

PROLOGUE

The hauntingly mellow sound of soft jazz permeated through the curtain, which Admiral Kathryn Janeway pulled aside in order to make her entrance. The lounge, as usual, seemed close to full capacity, with the crowd comprising of both holographic projections and their flesh-and-blood counterparts. On the stools in front of the bar sat six humans, a Bajoran, a Trill and a Betazoid, all holding glasses of various beverages. Janeway slid on to the stool next to Benjamin Sisko, who had only just noticed the arrival of the recently-instated flag officer. The barman twigged far quicker than Sisko's companions.

"What'll it be, lady?"

Janeway smiled.

"Gin and tonic, with a dash of lime."

The holographic publican had created the drink in a matter of seconds, and soon Janeway was sipping at it, while in the meantime, the singer on the stage concluded his number, to the applause of the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen", began Vic Fontaine as the clapping petered away, "tonight I have a special guest for you all. Some of you would know of him, 'cause he's been crooning alongside me for a few weeks recently, but tonight is his last performance. Tomorrow he shoots outta town to go back home, so for one last night, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for a truly classy entertainer. Please welcome Mr Simon Anthony!"

Simon Anthony, captain of the USS Mariner, hero of the euphemistically-named Battle for Bajor, and expert regarding both history and temporal physics, now strode out from behind a navy blue curtain behind Vic, dressed smartly in an open-necked white shirt, black jacket and black pants. He scanned the audience, noting the unheralded presence of Janeway; if he was surprised by her attendance, he did not betray it. He raised the microphone to his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it has been an honour to perform alongside the one and only Vic Fontaine", he beamed genuinely. "The man is extraordinary; frankly, I don't see why all those producers think Ol' Blue Eyes has anything on him."

The crowd laughed. Even the Starfleet contingent did, but Anthony would bet his modest but rather illegal stash of Romulan Ale that the majority of them had never even heard of Frank Sinatra. He pressed on regardless.

"Yes, tonight is my last night here in Vegas, but I'll have fond memories of it all, and I hope to be back sometime in the near future.

"Anyway, on with the show."

The drummer began by beating out a catchy rhythm, joined momentarily by the two trumpeters. Clicking his fingers, tapping his feet and clearly enjoying the beat already, Anthony launched into Peroxide Swing. Soon the audience, too, began swaying to the lively dance beat.

After approximately three minutes, the band climaxed with one last crescendo. Anthony took a bow, before handing the mike over to Vic, who immediately opened with his own rendition of Kissing a Fool. Anthony made his way to the bar, fielding congratulatory slaps on the back and words of encouragement from Benjamin, Jake and Kassidy Sisko, Kira Nerys, Ezri Dax, Julian Bashir and Miles O'Brien, who, much to the dismay of his wife Keiko, had recently applied for and been accepted as the reinstated Chief of Operations on Deep Space Nine. Finally, he sidled into the space next to Janeway, on the other side of her from Sisko.

"This is an unexpected pleasure, Kathryn", he said with a smile. "Let me guess, I'm being court-martialled for singing."

Janeway gave a small laugh.

"Not exactly", she replied, a business-like tone setting in immediately. "In actual fact, I've got a mission for you."

No matter how much he tried, Anthony still could not believe that his lover was now in charge of his section of the Fleet. In reality, his unit, the Eleventh Fleet, had been completely destroyed, but Mariner was still regarded as the flagship of the Eleventh Fleet, and consequently, came under the jurisdiction of the Office of the Flags of the Fleet, to which Janeway had been promoted as Officer of the Flag, or chief of section. This grand title basically meant that if Starfleet wanted to send Mariner or Enterprise or Hood or any other flagship on a mission individually, the orders came through Janeway personally.

"May I respectfully remind you, sir", Anthony said with a mischievous grin, "that my ship won't be out of the fleetyards for another four or five months?"

Janeway merely shrugged. Then she tapped her commbadge.

"Janeway to Mariner", she hailed, and immediately, and to the consternation of Anthony, the voice of Commander Jakob Ramelow answered.

"Ramelow here, Admiral."

"Commander, Captain Anthony and the rest of the crew still on DS9 will be joining us for a briefing at 2300 hours. Please prepare the briefing room."

"Aye, sir."

Janeway turned to Anthony.

"It would appear", she explained nonchalantly, "that five months has just passed."

* * * * *

To say that Simon Anthony was shocked to be walking on the bridge of his ship so soon would be an understatement. He had been told that the repairs to the ship, which had suffered extensive and severe damage during the battle with rogue elements of the Eleventh Fleet, would take a full half-year. However, it had been only six weeks.

As he skirted the command centre, he noted that not all the repairs had been completed; the engineering station showed half a dozen red lights, indicating areas of the ship which were still abandoned, for life support was not yet at full capacity. What was more, an occasional scorch mark or contusion on the walls betrayed the extremely quick and non-extensive job the Utopia Planitia engineers had done. His ship was barely a year old, and yet she already looked as battered and beaten as General Martok's flagship Rotarran after the final Battle of Cardassia. Anthony and Ankara had missed the honour of the final struggle of the Dominion War, because the destroyer had suffered extensive damage just four days before the attack. Anthony had felt embarrassment at the time; in the midst of the most costly and terrible war in history, his ship had almost been destroyed when the forward sensor array failed at a crucial moment, and Lon Tanier had been oblivious to the asteroid field that Ankara streaked into at full impulse. Though no one was killed, the port warp nacelle had been torn from its mountings, and the ship had only just been able to limp back to Starbase 124 before the life support system cut out completely. While there, Anthony had seen the victorious fly-by of General Martok-no, he corrected himself, he's now Chancellor Martok-and his Bird-of-Prey soon after the massive battle. It seemed to the Starfleet captain that the Klingon ship was being held together only by targ intestines and a great amount of spittle.

Oblivious to her partner's awe, Admiral Janeway strode without pause through the door at the side of the Bridge, and into the briefing room. Inside, the majority of the Mariner senior staff were gathered: Commander Jakob Ramelow, the Executive Officer; Lieutenant Commander Tasek, the tactical officer; Lieutenant Henry Davies, the chief engineer; Counsellor Rebecca Gregory; Doctor Taryll Kalis; Ensign Alexandra Lane, the operations officer; Ensign Toby Garrick, the second engineer; and Patrick Coleman, the head of Mariner's newly-created Theoretical Mathematics Department. The only absentee was Lieutenant Lon Tanier, the helmsman, but Anthony knew that the Betazoid would arrive at any moment.

Anthony was forced to shake his head, reminding himself that, owing to exemplary service, Henry Davies was now a lieutenant-commander, and the operations officer had also been promoted, to Lieutenant Junior Grade Lane. The latest promotions were wholly justified in his view, and well overdue.

Tanier burst in at that moment, and Anthony couldn't help but feel that his helmsman should also have been upgraded.

Then again, if I could have it my way, they'd all have been promoted, and you can only have so many top-level officers.

His curiosity getting the better of him, the captain spoke even before Janeway and Tanier had taken their seats.

"Admiral, why have both my ship and my crew been rushed out of dry-dock, even before Mariner is completely spaceworthy?"

Janeway held her hands up in what was obviously a conciliatory gesture.

"Your concerns are understandable, Captain", she admitted. "However, Starfleet Command has a mission which only your ship and crew can accomplish."

"Admiral!", Davies exclaimed, far more aggressively than he had hoped. "In her condition, Mariner isn't fit to cruise past warp six, let alone conduct a mission."

"In that case", Janeway shot back dryly, "I sincerely hope you are more than able to keep your ship in one piece, or else we may reconsider your promotion."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Commander", she said at last. "This business has kept me up for many nights."

"What business, Kathryn?", Anthony pushed, dropping Janeway's Christian name for the first time. His superior turned to him, smiling weakly.

"Generally, it's the continuing conflict in the Sierra system. Specifically, it's the allegations by two Ta'ga envoys that the Sierran fleet is conducting a genocidal campaign against the asteroid territories."

* * * * *

Lieutenant Lane raised her eyebrow in synch with Tasek, in a gesture which Anthony would have found comical under different circumstances. The gravity of what had just been revealed, however, gave him pause.

Lane had no such misgivings.

"Let me get this straight: we're supposed to take a ship that has only been given very basic repairs into a hostile situation and trust the Ta'ga not to try and blow us to kingdom come?"

"Lieutenant", growled Anthony, just loud enough for both Alex and Lon to hear.

"With all due respect to both the admiral and the captain", Tanier said, "I agree with Alex. Let's not forget that we were almost killed by the Ta'ga last time we were there, and we're hardly popular after destroying their flagship."

Anthony flinched.

"Actually, Lieutenant", he muttered, "we didn't destroy that ship. I did."

"Furthermore, that's exactly why you are being sent, Mr Tanier", Admiral Janeway declared, to the confused reactions of her fellow officers. She continued to explain.

"Three weeks ago, the USS Argonaut under Captain Trahan was conducting a scientific survey of the quantum flux patterns four light years from the Sierra system. Just as they were about to leave, a small Ta'ga vessel dropped out of low warp and hailed them, requesting to be taken aboard."

She tapped a panel on the control board in front of her. Immediately, a holographic projection rose out of the table. The figure depicted was of a humanoid figure, short in stature, wearing a chrome helmet and attired in a black jumpsuit.

"This", Janeway introduced, "is Fourth Hi'Pla Mehtfet, of the Territorial Hegemony of Ta'ga. He is what we might consider a defence minister of sorts, and the 'fourth' in his title indicates that he is fourth in line for the head of government.

"When he came aboard the Argonaut with the captain of his ship, who, incidentally, is now the commander of the Ta'ga fleet after his predecessor was killed in your engagement, he claimed that he had evidence of an ethnic cleansing program conducted against his people. He would not tell us more until he spoke with the commander of the Federation vessel which interdicted Ta'ga space a few months back."

"Couldn't Starfleet have sent a ship that is better prepared for the situation? The Enterprise, perhaps?", ventured Ramelow hopefully. Janeway's tight smile told him immediately that it wasn't to be that simple.

"Somehow-and God knows how they did it-the Ta'ga have pictures of both Mariner and Captain Anthony, so they can make a positive identification. Starfleet Intelligence is having kittens trying to find out how Ta'ga agents got through our security so easily, but the crux of the matter is, this ship and her crew is the only one in the fleet that can do this."

Anthony chuckled at the turmoil within Starfleet Intelligence. SI was not well liked by real Starfleet personnel, despite the crucial job they performed. Nonetheless, the new head of SI, who had been sworn in just two weeks ago, was respected in all ranks of the service, so that could change soon. For the first time, Anthony wondered whether Admiral Alynna Nechayev's sudden retirement, passing the torch to John Harriman as SI chief, had been a knee-jerk reaction to this new Ta'ga infiltration.

Probably, he mused. Harriman had good credentials, though-he had, after all, been captain of the Enterprise-B for well over a decade, and it was he who had taken over from Admiral Leyton as chief of Starfleet Security, a department that he ran efficiently and with complete dedication throughout the Dominion War.

"So", Janeway continued, unaware of the machinations within the captain's head, "Mariner is to proceed at best speed to sector 909 in order to rendezvous with the Argonaut, which is still in the area and has our two 'guests' aboard. Following that meeting, you will proceed to the Sierra system, to investigate any way you see fit."

She looked around the room.

"If the Sierran government is indeed trying to kill the Ta'ga", she finished, measuring her words carefully, "we have an obligation to stop them...whatever the cost may be."

CHAPTER ONE

Lieutenant-Commander Henry Davies replaced the cover on the plasma conduit, before crawling out of the Jeffries Tube. Since the briefing from Admiral Janeway some thirty hours ago, he had ordered double-shifts for his engineering crew. Captain Anthony had told him that he wanted warp eight for the trip to sector 909, and despite the protests from his chief engineer, had insisted on that velocity. Mariner had been towed at warp six to the edge of the Bajor System during her transit from the Sol System, where she had been laid up for several weeks. Strictly speaking, Mariner's warp engines were untested; Davies himself had ejected the previous warp core over the damaged USS Tikriti six weeks ago, and the ship had not been run up to operational power yet; minimal power was being fed to the systems by the impulse reactors, but this would have to change, because this was inadequate to even power the science labs. What was more, a ship could not go to warp on impulse power.

The problem facing Davies was that, while Mariner had a brand-new core and upgraded power shunt systems, the relay and conduit system had only been rudimentarily patched up. As they were, the moment the core was powered, superheated plasma would rupture half the conduits on the ship and blow the engineering section into space.

"Anthony to Davies."

Davies took a couple of deep breaths. It had been exhausting work in the conduit, and he hadn't had sleep for two days.

"Yes, sir?"

"How long, Chief?"

The question was impatient, but Davies bit back the acid reply he was about to utter.

"I need at least another eighteen hours, sir. Our power systems look like they've been put together by anaemic chimpanzees. They need a comprehensive repair schedule, and that's going to take the best part of a day."

He swore he could hear the captain suck in an angry breath.

"We're running out of time, Henry. You've got eight hours. After that, we're going."

Davies knew he couldn't argue with Anthony. Instead, he acknowledged the signal. Then he clicked his commbadge.

"Chief O'Brien, can you spare your engineering staff?", he asked hopefully. "I need my ship spaceworthy in eight hours, and I'm not halfway through my maintenance of the engines yet."

The DS9 Chief of Operations answered promptly.

"We've got an airlock malfunction in the Habitat Ring at the moment, so they're kind of busy, but I can give you about ten men", replied Miles O'Brien. "How's that, Commander?"

"Better than naught", the South African replied. "Thanks, Chief."

* * * * *

The USS Mariner pulled free of the mooring clamps of Deep Space Nine. On the bridge, Lieutenant Lon Tanier expertly handled the controls of the helm, and soon the Sovereign-class was cutting through the vacuum at full impulse speed, away from Bajor and towards the edge of the Sierra System.

"Captain, we are leaving the Bajor System", he reported after a short five minutes.

Captain Simon Anthony sat alongside his Executive Officer, Commnder Jakob Ramelow. Intelligent, handsome and resourceful, Ramelow personified what it meant to be a good second-in-command.

He spoke into the communications grid.

"Commander Davies, are we ready to go to warp?"

The reply was speedy.

"Yes, Commander", the chief engineer said, but there was a reluctant note resonating through his answer. "Sir, can you do me a favour?"

"That depends, Henry", Ramelow responded.

"Just don't push her too hard, okay?" The engineer was almost pleading. "I'm worried she might rip apart at the stitches."

"Understood, Chief", Ramelow returned. "Bridge out."

Anthony stood from his chair.

"Mr Tanier, take us to warp eight, but slowly."

Tanier wiped his forehead. Anthony could tell he was nervous, and he couldn't blame them.

"Aye, sir."

Mariner's twin nacelles glowed as the giant ship suddenly leapt through the light barrier.

"Warp one, sir", Tanier reported. A few seconds later he supplemented that. "Warp two."

"So far, so good", whispered Ramelow to his commanding officer.

"Warp three", called Tanier, oblivious to the comment made from behind him.

* * * * *

In Main Engineering, Davies hurried from control panel to control panel, making minute adjustments of the dilithium matrix, coolant injectors, magnetic constrictors, and just about everything else. Once he finished at one panel, Ensign Toby Garrick, the second engineer, would double-check it. Garrick had learned long ago that a new warp core was a temperamental beast, given to have tantrums and hiccups every now and then.

A shrill alarm caught his attention. He was at the panel a second before his nominal superior.

"Conduit D-174C is overloading", he reported. Davies wasted no time.

"Divert plasma flow to D-202A instead", he dictated.

His order was a fraction of a second too late. Davies felt the deck beneath him rumble as the conduit ruptured violently.

* * * * *

"Warp seven", informed Tanier. "We're almost there, sir."

Barely had the Betazoid finished his sentence, when the whole ship shuddered. Anthony and Ramelow almost slid off their seats as the ship lurched.

"What the heck was that?", demanded Ramelow.

Alex Lane made to answer, but Tanier beat her to it.

"We've decelerated, sir, and are holding steady at warp five-point-three."

"Internal sensors report a discharge of plasma on Deck Nineteen", Lane put in.

As if on cue, the comm. chirped.

"Sorry about that, bridge", Davies called. "One of our stitches just burst."

"Any significant damage or injuries?", asked Ramelow.

"Negative, sir. The conduit ruptured into an empty corridor. Life support hadn't even been reactivated there."

"Understood, Chief. Can you get us back to warp eight?"

"Yes, sir. We've redistributed the plasma flow to a different conduit."

Anthony rubbed his chin.

"You heard the Chief Engineer, Lieutenant", he ordered. "Take us back to warp eight."

Tanier, to his credit, returned to his duties without a conflicting word.

"Right away, Captain."

Once again, Mariner accelerated towards warp eight, but this time, the crew had justified misgivings.

* * * * *

USS Mariner dropped out of warp precisely one kilometre off the starboard bow of the Galaxy-class starship, USS Argonaut. Despite the earlier setback, the recommenced journey had been uneventful, for which Simon Anthony was glad. Had he been up the top at Starfleet, he certainly wouldn't have sent a ship in such a condition back into the lion's den, so to speak. He knew from bitter experience that, if Argonaut and Mariner were detected, the Ta'ga would scramble every single vessel available to them. He didn't buy the story of the defection, not for a moment. From what he knew, the Ta'ga were fanatic, extremist patriots, who had been fighting the Sierrans without bending for a hundred years. For two of their most highly-placed officers to surrender willingly to Starfleet seemed more than a bit contrived.

He turned to Lieutenant Lane.

"Conduct a full sensor sweep of the area", he ordered. "I don't want any Ta'ga...or Sierrans...sneaking up on us while we're out here."

"Yes, sir", Lane said. "Oh, and sir?"

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

The tips of Lane's lips curled into a grin.

"You'll be happy to know that the micro-wormhole we had trouble with last time is nowhere to be seen."

At this, Anthony smiled. 'Trouble' didn't even begin to describe the occurrences surrounding the micro-wormhole which had appeared on the edge of the Sierra System the first time Mariner had entered the area. It had crippled a Federation freighter that had been illegally carrying weapons-grade nucleonic particles for the Sierrans. In beaming over to investigate, Anthony had inadvertently been transported into the Delta Quadrant, where he had made the acquaintance of Kathryn Janeway. This had been a double-edged sword; while he had met his current lover face-to-face for the first time because of the spatial anomaly, his return to Mariner had been traumatic enough to catalyse his mental breakdown.

"Then we'll be home free in no time", he quipped. Then he turned to Ramelow.

"Commander, hail the Argonaut and tell Captain Trahan that I will transport aboard with a small delegation at"-he checked his chronometer-"1600 hours. In the meantime, I shall be in my quarters."

With that, Simon Anthony exited the bridge.

CHAPTER TWO

Commander Jakob Ramelow strolled down the corridor towards the Captain's Quarters. Usually, he would have called over the comm. to tell Anthony that he was running the risk of being late, but this time, he decided to pay a visit on his commanding officer.

He stopped at the door, and rang the bell. He could faintly hear music wafting through the metal, but he could not determine even what type of music it was. When no one answered the door, he punched his own keycode into the panel by the door. The portal opened, and he stepped inside.

At once, his ears were confronted by music. The song was faintly memorable to Ramelow, and yet he could not place where he had heard it, or even who was singing.

Anthony peered from around the doorframe leading to his bathroom, and saw Ramelow standing in the main entrance. He strode out, wearing the uniform waistcoat instead of the jacket so ubiquitous on Starfleet officers.

"May I help you, Commander?"

Ramelow was startled by his captain, and turned to look at him.

"Sir", he began, but cocked his ear to the song again. "I'm sure I know this song."

"It was performed over four hundred years ago", Anthony said. "The singer was one of a group called 'The Beatles', who were probably the most influential music outfit in the entire history of Earth."

Ramelow snapped his fingers.

"Of course! This is George Harrison; While My Guitar Gently Weeps."

Anthony appraised his XO.

"You surprise me, Jakob. I didn't realise you knew of Harrison."

"My mother was a musician", Ramelow explained with a smile. "She taught me that the classics should never be forgotten. This was my favourite song during childhood."

He listened. Flowing from the speakers came George Harrison's crystal clear voice.

"I look at the world and I notice it's turning, while my guitar gently weeps. With every mistake we must surely be learning; still my guitar gently weeps..."

"It's true of life", Anthony was saying. "We learn from our mistakes."

He paused for a second.

"We're going to learn from the ones we made last time, Jakob", he resolved. "If Fourth Hi'Pla Mehtfet's claims have some basis, then we pull out and leave it for Starfleet Intelligence or Special Operations to work out. If they don't, then we place him under arrest for attempted sabotage of peaceful diplomatic relations."

"I'm not sure we can, sir", Ramelow pointed out. "We were sent to find out what's going on. True, we shouldn't go in half-cocked, but we can't just pass the ball to someone else when we get a whiff of trouble. Mariner and her crew have never done that yet-"

"-and that pigheadedness has cost an inordinate amount of lives", finished Anthony. "We lost our science officer and nineteen others last time we were in this sector. This time, the ship even had trouble getting here, let alone fighting a battle with a hardened enemy force."

Ramelow stared at his captain.

"You're not seriously considering pulling out!", he exclaimed incredulously.

Anthony smiled.

"Not really", he reassured Ramelow. "I was just considering what would happen if we didn't go through with the mission.

"I have decided, however, that I don't want to risk Mariner on this one. If we have to go and physically investigate these claims, we won't use the ship."

Without elaborating, Anthony switched off the music stream.

"Shall we?", he said as he left the room.

* * * * *

The two Ta'ga stirred as the door to the brig swished open. Captain Jellett Trahan and Commander Tieve Birkenstock, both of the USS Argonaut, entered first, followed by three other Starfleet officers. Fourth Hi'Pla Mehtfet had never seen the three newcomers in person, but when the final one approached the force-field keeping him in his holding-cell, he recognised him immediately. He held out his arms and rotated his helmeted head to the left.

"Captain Simon Anthony", he said simply. Anthony interpreted the strange action as a form of greeting, one whose sentiment he could not return, for the force-field was in place, so he couldn't shake hands with the man.

"Yes, I'm Anthony", he answered. He turned to his officers. "This is Commander Jakob Ramelow, my Executive Officer, and Lieutenant-Commander Tasek, my tactical officer."

Mehtfet gestured to the other Ta'ga.

"This is Da'Karl Noprev, the flag officer of the Ta'ga fleet."

Noprev spoke for the first time.

"It is a privilege to be meeting the man who destroyed the Iaskel. That was a remarkable victory."

Anthony ignored the comment, not quite certain what the purpose of it had been.

"Fourth Hi'Pla, I'm here to listen to your evidence of Sierran atrocities. I suggest we get on with it."

Captain Trahan stepped in.

"Captain, if you like, Commander Birkenstock and I will leave, and you can conduct your questioning in here", he suggested.

Anthony nodded his assent.

* * * * *

An hour and a half later, Simon Anthony emerged from the brig, flanked by Ramelow and Tasek. He was ashen, and he noticed that Ramelow also did not seem comfortable. Only Tasek remained unmoved, but then, he was a Vulcan.

We could not believe that the Federation would condone these actions, despite evidence to the contrary in the past, Mehtfet had said, referring to the mistrust that had existed between the Ta'ga and the United Federation of Planets. If 'these actions', as Mehtfet described them, were indeed so, then his assertion was correct.

* * * * *

When Anthony and his two officers returned to Mariner, the captain immediately keyed the comm.

"All senior officers are to report to the briefing room immediately."

* * * * *

"A nucleonic dreadnought", Davies echoed his captain. "My God, could they be telling the truth?"

"It is indeed plausible", affirmed Tasek from the other side of the table. "The Cardassian Union's Obsidian Order has in the past been rumoured to have been developing a vessel to destroy entire populations. In fact, Starfleet Intelligence reported a very large version of the then-new Galor-class cruiser to be under construction during the Betreka Nebula Incident. It was supposed to have carried biogenic weapons for use on the Klingon population of Raknal V, in order for the Cardassians to invade and take control of the planet without fear of a land war with the Klingons."

"What happened?", asked Patrick Coleman. He had read about the Betreka Nebula Incident, but his knowledge was minimal; it would take a long time before three and a half centuries of history could be successfully assimilated into his phenomenal mind.

"The project was abandoned for a number of reasons", continued Tasek. "Firstly, the Obsidian Order's scientists could not promise that their biogenic weapons would not also kill the Cardassians on the planet. Secondly, the Cardassian government realised that such a strike would no doubt begin a full-scale war with the Klingons, and because they had broken the Raknal V Treaty, the Federation as well."

"Could this giant Galor be the ship Mehtfet was talking about?", inquired Davies.

"It is possible", conceded Tasek. "During the Dominion War it was believed that the Dominion were trying to resurrect the program, but the war ended before the ship could be launched. I must point out, however, that this was unsubstantiated hearsay, and the ship itself was never found by Starfleet, nor the Klingons, nor the Romulans."

The officers let themselves digest the new information. After a few moments, Tolian Brenkar, the science officer, spoke.

"Scientifically-speaking, it would be easy to convert what would have been biogenic delivery systems into nucleonic ordinance dispensers", he put in. Anthony almost smiled. It may have only been one sentence, but the El-Aurian sounded far more confident than six weeks ago, when he stuttered, started and sweated through every word with other officers. "I'm sure Lieutenant-Commander Tasek would agree with me that the wholesale delivery of these weapons into the Ta'ga asteroid territories would be desirable; unlike what happened with the Cardassians on Raknal V, there's no Sierran population near the asteroids for the weapons to have an effect on them."

"That is a logical conclusion, Ensign", agreed the Vulcan.

"Economically, too, it makes sense that the Cardassians are selling such a ship to the Sierrans", added Coleman. He pressed a panel, and a holographic chart appeared in the thin air over the table.

"As you can see", he said, referring to the chart, "the Cardassians have been in a comprehensive and devastating recession since the war. Last year, they retired over sixty percent of their remaining fleet, and sold them to other customers, so as to raise revenue. The Federation, through the occupation force, has been trying to alleviate this, but since the Federation has no material monetary assets, this assistance has been ineffective.

"I've been reading through the mission reports from the last time Mariner was out here, and they seem to confirm our suspicions and Mehtfet's claims. We know that the Sierrans have been buying weapons-grade nucleonic particles from the Cardassians. If they're buying these, there is reason to believe that they may be buying other supplies as well, up to and including this dreadnought. It's understandable that the Sierrans would want a ship like that, because their current space fleet is antiquated and vastly inferior to the Ta'ga. For the Cardassians, it means another buck."

He looked around the table, sadly unsurprised that hardly anyone seemed to understand the expression.

"It's probably not a government initiative", he continued. "My guess would be a black market organisation, trying to get enough money to survive the huge economic downturn."

Ramelow had been passively listening to the comments made by the other officers. Having heard them, he took a moment to voice his own views.

"Whatever the reasons", he said carefully, "we also know that, if Mehtfet's right, that ship has been fully outfitted and has left the Cardassian shipyard it was laid up in. That gives us a little more than fifty hours to find out whether there's truth to the statement, and then we need to stop that ship, if it exists, before the Sierrans launch their nucleonic attack on the asteroids."

"How do we do that?", asked Lieutenant Lane. "We can't just cruise up to Sierra Prime and ask them if they're about to unleash a massive holocaust."

"No, we can't."

Lane turned to Captain Anthony, who had spoken for the first time since outlining the content of his conversation with Fourth Hi'Pla Mehtfet. The captain spoke with assurance, as if he had formulated his plan even before they had left DS9.

"This must be a two-pronged initiative", Anthony said. "Whether we like it or not, we must involve the Ta'ga in this. If we need to use force to stop this new Sierran ship, we'll need the Ta'ga fleet's help. Mariner can't take much of a pounding before she's atomised."

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Davies was nodding.

"Captain Trahan is under orders to deliver Mehtfet and Noprev to Earth, where they will be debriefed by Admiral Harriman himself. That means that Argonaut won't be sticking around for a fight.

"What is more, if we keep the Ta'ga appraised, it will be a valuable diplomatic initiative, and may help to bring about peace between the Federation and the Ta'ga.

"This is how it's going to work: Lon, you and a security officer of your choice will take my yacht to Sierra Prime, under the cover of a Starfleet threat assessment program. Using the captain's yacht will not arouse their suspicions, because it's closer to a short-range starship than a shuttle, so it would be plausible that you arrived from Deep Space Nine. Once there, do everything you can to uncover any information that may be relevant. I know it's a tall ask, but I want you back on the ship in thirty-five hours.

"The same deadline applies for Tasek and Patrick. You two will take one of the new Argo-class shuttles, and conduct a real threat evaluation on the Ta'ga asteroids. Also, Mehtfet mentioned the Sierrans testing a nucleonic missile on one of the asteroids; see if you can confirm this. Your mission is the most dangerous, as you'll have to convince the Ta'ga before they blow you to pieces that you've got no malicious intent."

He looked around the table.

"Any questions?"

Toby Garrick posted one.

"What will Mariner be doing while the two away teams are gone?"

"Mariner will be conducting a short sweep along the vector we expect the Sierran dreadnought to be travelling", answered Anthony. "Even at extreme range, we should be able to detect the subspace displacement of a ship as big as what we imagine that thing to be. If we detect it, then we've got some advanced warning."

With no more questions, Anthony dismissed his crew. Before he left, however, he noticed that Taryll Kalis was still seated.

"Doctor?"

Taryll looked up at the captain.

"Sir, I would never question your orders...", began the Mariner CMO, but trailed off. Anthony raised an eyebrow.

"Well?", he prodded.

Taryll took a deep breath.

"I'm only a physician, so I don't make strategic decisions", he said, "but, if the Sierrans are going to conduct genocide against the Ta'ga using Cardassian ships, Cardassian weapons and Cardassian energy, surely the Cardassians are as accountable for the repercussions as the Sierrans?"

Anthony sighed. The Bajoran had a point, but he had a particular bone to pick with the Cardassians; they had, after all, murdered his father and subjugated his planet to over half a century of tyrannical occupation. Anthony guessed that Taryll found it ironic that Cardassia Prime was under the occupation of the Federation, an organisation into which Bajor was soon to be inevitably joining.

"What would you suggest?", he asked warily.

The Bajoran doctor subconsciously balled his fist.

"I say we alert Starfleet to the presence of the Cardassian shipyard where this holocaust ship was built, and Starfleet sends starships to destroy it. Additionally, sanctions should be enforced against Cardassia Prime."

"Doctor", Anthony murmured. "You know that's not the right thing to do. You heard Patrick; it's likely the Cardassian government has no idea about this deal. Besides, the Cardassian people are already suffering through economic hardships. Recently, I talked with Captain Mendoza from the occupation authorities, and she says up to two-thirds of the population is undernourished.

"As if that wasn't enough, an attack on a Cardassian installation would be an act of war. Sure, Starfleet would wipe out the Cardassian fleet in the space of days, but enough people have died over the past few years. You said it yourself. You're a physician. I don't know about Bajoran doctors, but humans take the Hippocratic Oath, whereby they must never cause harm. Such an action would cause even more suffering. It could even lead to the extinction of the Cardassians as a species."

"But sir...", Taryll protested, but Anthony held up his hand to cut him off.

"No 'buts', Doctor. We're here to do a job, and we'll do it. I will apprise Starfleet of the situation, but I will not condone an act of aggression against a people who are starving in the gutters of their cities. Is that clear?"

Taryll looked as if he was about to object again, but he caught himself.

"Aye, sir", he said, grudgingly.

Anthony smiled.

"You'd better get down to Sickbay. You may be needed before fifty hours is up."

Doctor Taryll Kalis slowly left the briefing room, leaving Captain Anthony considering whether an attack on the Cardassian shipyard could be justified.

CHAPTER THREE

The hangar doors of Shuttlebay One separated, revealing a starscape outside. The containment force-field was still activated though, so the bay held a breathable and comfortable atmosphere. Patrick Coleman was just boarding the Argo-class shuttlecraft Trojan when he was called to by Commander Ramelow.

"Doctor Coleman", he said. "I just wanted to wish you and Tasek luck."

Coleman smiled.

"Tasek would tell you that 'luck' is dictated purely by mathematical probability, which, incidentally, the Mathematical Singularity Doctrine can predict.

"I, on the other hand, would like to say thank you, Commander."

Ramelow gave him a wave, and then retreated into the control booth of the shuttlebay as the hatch closed behind the embarked mathematician.

The pale blue force-field blinked and disappeared in an instant, venting the atmosphere of the hangar into space.

"Shuttlecraft Trojan to Commander Ramelow", came Tasek's emotionless voice over the comm. "Pre-flight checks are complete, and I am activating manoeuvring thrusters."

"Understood, Trojan", Ramelow answered. "Goodbye and Godspeed."

The small ship gently lifted from the deck and moved towards the gaping portal. Once clear of the hangar, she banked to starboard, and was lost from sight.

* * * * *

On Deck Fourteen, just underneath the saucer section of the Sovereign-class, a similar farewell was being given by Simon Anthony to Lon Tanier and Crewman V'Nushku, the security officer whom Tanier had chosen for the mission. To extend the credibility of their cover story, Tanier had arranged with the captain to give V'Nushku a temporary commission as an ensign.

Tanier lowered himself through the hatch into the captain's yacht, named Malcolm Reed after the armoury officer from the Enterprise NX-01; this name had been given to the yacht on the express permission of Admiral Paris, who had overseen Mariner's slap-dash refit. Paris, knowing that Anthony was a particular admirer of the NX-01 crew, and had consequently given the yacht her designation, after Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Anthony had been pleasantly surprised; the captain's yacht before the Battle for Bajor had been called Starflyer, a singularly unimaginative moniker.

"Lon", he was saying, "remember to bring her back in one piece. If you don't, I won't be particularly happy."

"Yes, sir", Tanier replied, not without mirth.

V'Nushku entered just after Tanier. Anthony had not had many opportunities to brush shoulders with the crewman from Denmar II, but he knew her to be competent at her job. She had been delegated commander of the security force by Patrick Coleman during their repelling of boarders in the battle with the Eleventh Fleet.

"Good luck, Crewman", he told her. She nodded with a smile.

"Thank you, sir. We'll see you in thirty-five hours."

The hatch closed behind her. Unlike in the shuttlebay, Anthony could not see the launch of the Malcolm Reed. It was, however, a textbook departure, as the sleek craft undocked from the underside of the saucer and lowered her warp nacelles into place. Then, Tanier activated the impulse drive, and the yacht sped away from Mariner, towards Sierra Prime, looking for answers to accusatory questions posed by the allies of that planet.

* * * * *

The Trojan was also at full impulse power. On board, Patrick Coleman was staring intently at the sensor display. This was his first time on an away mission, and he certainly did not want to fall down on the job. Right now, his gravest concern was allowing the Ta'ga to sneak up on the shuttle and destroy it.

The panel beeped once. He peered at the display.

"Commander Tasek", he reported. "I'm detecting three vessels leaving the asteroid fields on an intercept course."

"How long before we are engaged?", asked Tasek dispassionately. Coleman checked the readout.

"We've got about ten minutes."

Tasek ran each scenario through his logical mind. The Argo-class was a brand-new shuttle design. She was not as quick as Mariner's standard Type 11 craft, but she was larger and, for her size, well-armed; two micro-torpedo tubes equipped with small spatial torpedoes were embedded in the bow, and she sported a Type IX phaser array, such as one would find on a Saber-class frigate. Nonetheless, the Vulcan knew that any fight with the Ta'ga would be short and fatal.

He keyed the communication system.

"Attention Ta'ga vessels, this is the Federation shuttlecraft Trojan. We mean no harm."

The Ta'ga did not reply. He repeated his hail again. He got the same response.

Coleman suddenly turned to him.

"The Ta'ga have increased speed", he said. His voice was slightly tinted with anxiety, but Tasek, unfamiliar as he was with human emotions, did not register this. "Intercept time is now three minutes."

"We must find a way to communicate with them", Tasek stated.

"I think they received and understood our messages perfectly", Coleman opined. "They just don't believe us."

"Clearly, we must make them believe us."

Coleman sat thinking for several seconds. All the while, the three Ta'ga warships closed the distance between them. Finally, he snapped his fingers.

"Of course! Commander, shut down our engines and cut power to weapons and other defensive systems."

Tasek raised his eyebrow in puzzlement.

"Doctor?"

"Just do it!", Coleman shouted. "I'll explain later."

Tasek did not bother pointing out that it was he who was in command of this mission. Instead, he deactivated the primary power circuits, and the Trojan coasted to a halt.

The comm. panel beeped.

"They are hailing", the tactical officer deadpanned, but he was in reality surprised and curious. Coleman's method seemed to have worked.

"Do you mind if I take this one, Commander?"

Tasek would have objected, but he was inquisitive. What was the mathematician's plan of action?

Coleman turned on the comm.

"-to Federation shuttlecraft Trojan, state your intent or prepare to be boarded. I repeat, this is the Ta'ga destroyer Klista to Federation shuttlecraft Trojan..."

"Ta'ga vessel Klista, this is Doctor Patrick Coleman on board the Federation shuttle Trojan. We are receiving you. Our mission is to gather evidence of a suspected Sierran plot to destroy the Ta'ga people. If this is the case, then we aim to stop it."

The commander of the Klista silently mulled over this.

"Why would you stop it, Coleman?", he replied at last. "You are allied to the Sierran h'jkanlak." The universal translator had difficulty interpreting the last word, but Coleman could make an educated guess as to what meaning was to be conveyed.

"Genocide, even done by our allies, is a crime in the Federation", Coleman explained. "If the Sierrans wish to destroy you, we can't condone it. With the permission of your government, we would like to evaluate any proof you may have of this assertion, and if we are convinced, we would also like to make a threat assessment of your territories, so that we can organise an efficient defence, should our starship be unable to stop the Sierran vessel."

"And what if you are convinced? What if you do stop the Sierrans from massacring us all? What then?", demanded the Ta'ga.

In truth, Coleman could not accurately say what actions the Federation Council would take. He had a pretty good idea, however.

"Sierra Prime will no longer be a protectorate of the Federation", he explained. "Furthermore, sanctions will probably be introduced. Starfleet will constantly patrol the area for any signs of further Sierran attempts to destroy the Hegemony. Last of all, but by no means least, the Diplomatic Corp will probably try to introduce an alliance initiative between us and you."

The Klista's captain thought for a moment.

"Very well, Trojan. You will follow us back to the Ta'ga asteroid territories. Any attempt to divert from that path will result in your immediate destruction."

The comm. cut out.

"Cheerful chap", remarked the mathematician.

Tasek reinitialised the impulse drive, and slowly followed the Klista, which, though only slightly bigger than the Trojan, was looming large in the flight deck windows.

"I am perplexed, Doctor", he admitted after a short time. "How did you know that our shutting down of the impulse reactor would pacify the Ta'ga?"

Coleman grinned.

"I didn't", he confided. "But I realised that they probably viewed us as a threat, and then I thought that the one sure-fire way to convince them that we weren't a danger to them would be if the systems we would require to attack them were offline."

"That was a dangerous gamble", observed Tasek.

"True", agreed Coleman, "but it worked, all the same."

* * * * *

The Malcolm Reed had arrived in high orbit of Sierra Prime at this time. Tanier had just received a transmission from the surface, and he left the flight deck, going aft to find Crewman-Ensign-V'Nushku checking the two phasers they had packed with them.

"You don't think we'll need them, do you?", the lieutenant asked. V'Nushku showed him a tight smile.

"Best to be prepared, sir", she said.

"Yes, I know", Tanier persisted, "but the Sierrans are our friends."

"Not if they're as genocidal as the captain believes", she pointed out. "Besides, I've learned never to trust anyone who could get behind your back, because chances are they'll shoot you."

Tanier nodded in a conciliatory gesture. He changed the subject.

"We've been asked to land on the shuttlepad at the Department of War in the Sierran capital. I spoke to the Under-Secretary for War; he seemed pretty unimpressed that we came when we did. He's particularly unhappy that Starfleet didn't give any advance notice of our inspection."

"I wonder why?", V'Nushku commented sarcastically. Tanier looked at her reproachfully.

"We can't look into this with any bias, Crewman", he said sharply. "If you do that, you'll try and manipulate the evidence to fit the charge."

"I understand, sir."

She sounded unconvinced. She clipped the phaser to her belt.

"When are we expected, Lieutenant?"

Tanier consulted the chronometer.

"We're due at the shuttlepad in fifteen minutes, so I'd better set our course for atmospheric entry."

Tanier returned to the cockpit, while V'Nushku attended to a small satchel she had brought with her, the contents of which neither Lon Tanier nor the captain were aware of.

Inside were thirty small explosive plasma charges.

CHAPTER FOUR

"Lieutenant, this is an unexpected visit", greeted the Secretary for War. He had rushed to the shuttlepad to meet the party.

"Secretary", Lon Tanier said, shaking his hand. "It's a pleasure. I'm sorry for the inconvenience; Starfleet Tactical likes springing these inspections on member and protectorate worlds, just so you can't prepare any propaganda-like displays of might."

"Not at all", the podgy Sierran articulated, almost theatrically. His plump pink face and voluminous body wobbled with the pronouncement. "My assistant, I'm afraid, is often abrupt when it comes to off-worlders."

He edged closer to Tanier and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Between you and me, Lieutenant, that's why he's only the Under-Secretary for War, and I've got the top post."

Tanier forced a chuckle. He turned to his companion.

"This is Ensign V'Nushku. She's one of the top Starfleet Tactical consultants when it comes to the security of facilities like space stations and so on."

The Sierran embraced her histrionically.

"Ensign", he bellowed. "Welcome to Sierra Prime."

"Thank you, sir", V'Nushku answered, through clenched teeth.

Tanier gazed across the shuttlepad over the cityscape. The Sierran capital, Frilsa, was a hodgepodge mixture of ancient Sierran architecture and ultramodern Federation-influenced designs. The skyline was dominated by the building on which he currently stood.

"Secretary, the first problem I see here is that this building, the nerve centre of your defence against the Ta'ga, is far too big. It's a prominent target for any attack."

The Sierran government minister smiled.

"Ah, there you are incorrect, Lieutenant", he beamed. "It is true that this is a large building, and the Ta'ga would give their children to destroy it, but any attack is doomed to fail.

"The building is lined on every floor with satellite-directed laser turrets. We have learned that the Ta'ga energy weapons are useless when fired through the atmosphere, so they must fly into a sub-orbital position to fire on us. When they do that, our weapons blast them out of the sky, just like that!"

He clicked his tongue to emphasise his point, and the resulting noise reminded Tanier of the time on board the Ankara when his console had exploded.

"There have been some thirteen attempts to destroy this building in the last five years", the Secretary continued, "and all have failed. True, damage was done to the city by the debris from the destroyed enemy craft, but this building has not so much as been scratched."

Tanier looked back on to the city, and now could see where the rows of buildings, houses and parks had been scarred by explosions from stricken Ta'ga spacecraft that had careened out of control into the ground.

Then again, he thought, some of them may not have been out of control.

Certainly, in other circumstances, suicide attacks were not unheard of. Tanier wondered whether the same was true of the Ta'ga-Sierran War.

"Secretary", V'Nushku began, with a rise in her voice, "Starfleet Tactical has been monitoring this war between you and the Ta'ga, and we're a bit concerned. Such a prolonged conflict has been known to provoke either one or the other side taking...shall we say, unsavoury action, in order to win."

Tanier was shocked. He nudged the Denmaran security officer, but she merely shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant", she apologised, with a wink of her eye that only Tanier could see, "but I think the Secretary has a right to know."

The Secretary seemed to falter for a second, then regained his composure, and was as melodramatic as ever.

"If I assume your meaning correctly, Ensign, that Sierra would use weapons of mass destruction against the Ta'ga, then I can assure you and Starfleet that this is not the case. Have we considered it? Of course. Weapons like that could shift the balance of power in this system, and we could finish in an hour what has been raging for nearly a century.

"We understand, though, that the Federation would not condone an attack on such a scale. We will, therefore, continue to fight as we have for a hundred years."

There was a tinge of sarcasm in his tone, one that did not escape the attention of either Tanier or V'Nushku. The crewman, however, nodded, as if content at the answer. The Chairman smiled.

"Now that I have assuaged your fears, Ensign, I will take you and the lieutenant to the mapping room, where you can see scans of our defences."

* * * * *

The Trojan, in the meantime, was entering geostationary orbit of the main Ta'ga asteroid, simply named Ta. Technically speaking, Ta was more a planetoid than an asteroid; it maintained an atmosphere which supported life, it had continents and oceans, and it was larger than a standard space rock. Also, in addition to orbiting the Sierran sun, Ta rotated on its axis, in much the same way as a planet like Earth does.

The flight deck of the Argo-class shuttle was modelled on the Danube-class runabout, with stations for up to five crew. Towards the rear, the flight deck was partitioned from the main cabin of the shuttle. Inside this section was the new innovation which made the Argo so unique in Starfleet service. Officially designated 'Territorial Reconnaissance Vehicle Alpha', the heavily-armoured, speedy and, incredibly, wheeled buggy the Argos carried were informally named after the shuttle in which they were deployed; naturally, therefore, the Mariner Argo's TRVA was named Trojan.

The comm. chirped.

"The Ta'ga authorities have given us permission to land", Coleman told Tasek. "Our landing coordinates are two-four-one by one-oh-five."

The shuttle began descending through the atmosphere of Ta. The investigation had not yet begun, but Coleman had already formulated two conclusions.

"Lieutenant-Commander", he said, "do you find any significance in the fact that we've so easily been allowed to conduct our enquiry?"

"Indeed, this is not typical of the Ta'ga", Tasek agreed. "Our studies have so far shown them to be xenophobic in the most extreme sense of the word, especially where the Federation is concerned."

"That makes me suspicious", the human announced. "Either they really are in trouble, and need our help, or else this is a trap."

"While I must point out that you have reached those conclusions subjectively, using what you humans call 'instinct' and 'intuition', I am forced to concur", the Vulcan acceded. "It would be best to prepare for either eventuality."

He opened a side console next to him, and extracted two hand phasers, one of which he passed to Coleman.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that", Coleman muttered.

* * * * *

First Blk'Pla Iyaama himself met the Starfleet shuttle as it touched down in what appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a deserted green field in the middle of nowhere. The leader of the Ta'ga hegemony stepped forward as the flight deck hatch hissed and slid open, revealing a Vulcan wearing the gold-tunic uniform of a security and tactical officer, and a human, wearing the blue tunic that denoted the sciences.

Iyaama, unlike the other Ta'ga around him, did not wear the chrome helmet so ubiquitous in society. Coleman took note of the man's face. He had cropped hair, vaguely green, like tarnished copper. His eyes were closely-set but large and golden. His skin was pigmented a light hue of brown, which reminded Coleman of wet sand.

He was frowning severely.

"Starfleet", he hissed. Coleman assumed that he would have spat under different circumstances. "You are enemies of the Ta'ga, yet you presume to assist us. We find this hard to believe."

"Undoubtedly so", Tasek acknowledged merely.

Iyaama seemed to mull this over for a moment.

"I am First Blk'Pla Iyaama, Hegemonic Ruler of Ta'ga and the Sierra System"

"Lieutenant-Commander Tasek of the starship Mariner", Tasek replied. "This is Doctor Patrick Coleman."

Iyaama blinked. Then he burst into grating laughter.

"A physician!", he boomed. "Starfleet want to help and they send a physician!"

"Actually", Coleman corrected, "I'm a theoretical mathematician. If we conduct our threat analysis, I could tell you where, when and how many times the Sierrans are likely to strike."

Iyaama wiped a tear from his golden eyes, his laughter petering away.

"How do we know this isn't actually a Sierran plot to find our weaknesses?"

Tasek took a step forward.

"Neither of us are Sierran", he pointed out, "and Starfleet has no vested interest in your war, unless either side plans to commit genocide, which the Federation holds as the most morally reprehensible crime that exists."

Iyaama nodded.

"Maybe it is time we left for our capital city", he suggested. "There you can see the Sierran plot to destroy us."

He paused.

"You will be unable to fly your shuttle there. The radiation is too dense for thrusters to work. I can organise a hovercar for you."

"That will not be necessary", Tasek assured him. "We have our own transportation."

* * * * *

The Trojan TRVA followed the First Blk'Pla's hovercar as they sped across ancient roads, towards a cityscape that Coleman could see when they were still sixty kilometres away. As they neared the capital, however, Coleman could see that the view was distorted, from what he could not tell.

Eventually, the hovercar and the Trojan drew up alongside a checkpoint, and it was there that Coleman could see what caused the visual imperfections; row upon row of force-field generators stretched out as far as the eye could see.

The four Ta'ga soldiers at the checkpoint stood to attention when they recognised the leader of their race.

"I require four self-containment generators", Iyaama declared. "Now."

One of the soldiers hurried away, and soon he returned with four black boxes, each with two antennae attacked to the top, and a control panel on the front.

Iyaama handed two units to the two Mariner men.

"Strap these in front of you", he instructed, "and press the sequence 'one, nine, seven, two, execute'."

The two Starfleet men did as they were told, and when Coleman pressed 'execute', he found himself encased in a lightly-humming, pale-red coloured bubble.

"It is a personal force-field", Iyaama explained. He activated his, as did one of his aides, and presently, all four of them stepped through the main force-field surrounding the city.

* * * * *

Coleman's eyes were met with absolute devastation. They were on the outskirts of the capital, and here the buildings, mostly of a residential nature, were in ruins. Hanging through windows, doors, and simply lying on the streets, were semi-decomposed bodies, of Ta'ga men, women and children. The young children did not wear the helmets that their parents and elders did, and the expressions on their faces were mixed. Some looked as though they had died while sleeping in the yards outside their houses. Others, Coleman saw with shock and revulsion, were eternally gripped in the icy claws of terror. Many looked as though they had finally succumbed while screaming with all their might.

"This is what your friends on Sierra Prime would do to us", Iyaama spat. "Our citizens never had a chance. The only warning we had of the missile's approach was when it entered the atmosphere."

They walked on, coming to the burned-out remains of a storefront. A hovercar, a sedan by the look of the wreck, was lodged halfway through the wall. It was clear that the driver had died at the wheel, and his car had smashed into the shop, causing the fire that had ruined not only the business, but also the houses Tasek and Coleman had only just walked past.

More bodies now, also half-rotted; the vacuum beneath the force-field had prevented the complete disintegration of the bodies, which Coleman found all the more horrifying.

Iyaama's aide pointed to a tall, pyramid-shaped building, which rose from the centre of the city and towered over everything else.

"That was the palace of the Blk'Pla", he said. "It employed over four thousand Ta'ga, as it was also the government chambers. By lucky chance, the major ministers and the Blk'Pla himself were inspecting a new hospital on one of the other asteroids when the Sierrans attacked. There were still some three thousand men and women in there, though. As yet, no one has been willing to enter the building. The army says that the sight of so many dead in one place would demoralise even the most hardened troops."

"I don't doubt it", muttered Coleman. He hadn't seen such devastation since 2024, when London had been obliterated by a terrorist nuclear weapon. The attack had killed the would-be Mrs Juliana Coleman, a woman the mathematician had met while studying at Oxford and had proposed to a year earlier.

At least London was vaporised, Coleman thought. The appearance of an almost fully intact city, littered with corpses, seemed all the more horrifying.

"At first, we didn't know what weapon had been used", Iyaama was saying. "We assumed it had been a simple biological pathogen. We sent army scientists into the city to determine what exactly it was.

"They were able to report their preliminary findings just before they, too, died. They said that the complete destruction of the inner organs of the dead was indicative of a nucleonic warhead. They also described the symptoms as they were overcome. Their final moments...were...excruciating."

"When we discovered that the attack had been nucleonic in nature, we were astounded", the aide continued. "As you would probably know, nucleonic particles are attracted to electricity, and can be carried by electrical energy. The main power plant for many of our outlying areas on this continent was located in the industrial district." He pointed in the general direction.

"Soon, reports of illness and death were reported in the Frol, Kebalayah and Mk'kanis districts. We couldn't send soldiers in to shut down the power plant, so as a last resort, we mobilised the space fleet, and had them attack the power station.

"That, Lieutenant-Commander, and Doctor, is why the industrial district has been levelled to the ground."

"After that", finished First Blk'Pla Iyaama, "we organised the force-fields around the capital and the districts affected."

Coleman nodded, as did Tasek.

"A prudent action", the Vulcan said.

"Yes", replied Iyaama. "Now, Lieutenant-Commander, are you convinced?"

CHAPTER FIVE

Captain's Log, Stardate 56840.6

Our two away teams are currently in the Sierra system, investigating whether Fourth Hi'Pla Mehtfet's claims are indeed the truth.

Mariner, in the meantime, is patrolling at warp one along the vector we expect the Sierran genocide dreadnought-if indeed there is such a vessel-to traverse from Cardassian space to this area.

If Mehtfet's estimates are correct, we still have some thirty-two hours before the attack is due to begin, so the ship will not come on to our scanners for another ten hours or so.

* * * * *

Lieutenant-Commander Henry Davies was pleased with how the ship was running. He had been shocked when told that the Mariner would be conducting a mission, because she looked as if she might fall apart at any minute. Despite this, the warp drive had worked perfectly-well, almost perfectly, he smiled-and he had finally been able to resurrect the shields.

He hummed as he worked to restore power to the phaser arrays.

* * * * *

On the bridge, Commander Jakob Ramelow commanded the Sovereign-class starship, while the captain got some rest in his quarters. The bridge was quiet, as everyone did their assigned tasks with efficiency. The stand-in tactical officer, Ensign Miklos, was conducting tests for the chief engineer; he would energise the main phaser array in order for Davies to find faults along the power distribution system. So far, these efforts had enabled Davies to discover that half a dozen conduits on Deck Nine were non-operational, and that the Utopia Planitia crews had neglected to replace the primary demodulation coil, but these were problems that were temporary and easy for the engineering department to rectify.

"Commander."

Ramelow turned to the ops bay.

"What is it, Ens-I mean, Lieutenant?" Simon Anthony wasn't the only one having difficulty remembering that Alex Lane was now a lieutenant.

"I'm picking up a large subspace disturbance on long-range sensors."

Ramelow frowned. It couldn't be the Sierran ship. Not yet.

"Can you put it on screen?", he queried.

"No, sir", Lane replied. "However, I can extrapolate an image of the approaching ship based on it's subspace wake."

"Very well", replied Ramelow. "On screen."

The main viewscreen activated, and Ramelow was suddenly looking at a behemoth.

The ship was obviously Cardassian in design, and reminiscent of a Galor-class cruiser. Ramelow could clearly see, however, that it was several times larger. In fact, it appeared to be even larger than Mariner.

Lane spoke again.

"Even at this range, sir, I am detecting large concentrations of nucleonic particles."

The Executive Officer clicked his commbadge.

"Captain Anthony, could you come to the bridge immediately, please?"

* * * * *

Lon Tanier and V'Nushku sat in the cabin of the Malcolm Reed, contemplating what evidence they had acquired thus far. Tanier had to admit, that that evidence was precious little.

"The problem", he said to the crewman, "is that all sensitive files are protected by retinal scans, and those can only be given by Secretary Opri or his assistant."

"Sir", V'Nushku said, "what if I could get access to those files today?"

Tanier thought about the offer.

"I can tell that the methods you want to use would under normal circumstances be questionable", he said slowly, "but we're running out of time. We've only got another five hours, and then we have to be back on board the ship."

V'Nushku looked up at him.

"Is that a 'permission granted', sir?"

Tanier smiled.

"No, but this is. Permission granted, Crewman."

* * * * *

The Under-Secretary for War had just left his office in the Department of War building when V'Nushku called to him from the end of the corridor. He sighed, and ambled over to her.

"Can I help you, Ensign?", he asked wearily.

V'Nushku grinned coyly.

"I've forgotten where the bathroom is", she explained. "Could you please direct me?"

The Under-Secretary threw up his hands.

"Couldn't you get someone less important?", he snapped. "I'm a very busy..."

V'Nushku grabbed his arm and swung him into the wall. He collided with the plaster hard, and reeled backwards. Then the Mariner security officer chopped the back of his neck, and he collapsed limply to the floor.

V'Nushku dragged his unconscious form back into his office, all the way to the computer terminal. She tapped several keys, until the identification confirmation screen appeared. She forced the Under-Secretary's eyelids open, and the computer scanned his unseeing eye.

* * * * *

An hour later, she met with Lon Tanier in the unisex bathroom, where he was washing his hands.

"I've got what we need", she whispered.

"Good", the officer replied. "Did it confirm our suspicions?"

V'Nushku looked uncomfortable.

"There's reference to an ongoing nucleonic weapons program, and details of a test missile fired at the Ta'ga asteroid fields, but..."

"But what?", Tanier prodded.

The crewman shrugged.

"There's no mention of a Cardassian-built genocide ship anywhere."

At that moment, klaxons began wailing within the building.

"This is a security alert", the loudspeaker blared. "All security personnel are to search for the Starfleet officers. Find them and place them in custody."

"Didn't I say that I probably wouldn't like your methods?", Tanier commented wryly as he peered out the door.

The corridor was clear. He and V'Nushku exited the bathroom and headed for the shuttlepad.

They turned a corner in the hallway, leading to the door that opened on to the pad, and were instantly spotted by the security man guarding the door.

"Hey! You! Stop!", he shouted as he began unholstering his sidearm. Tanier wasted no time. He bolted at the guard, catching him at his torso and tackling him against the wall. The guard hit the wall with a resounding crunch, and, like a rag doll, fell to the floor.

"Come on!", called Tanier as he opened the door and rushed towards the captain's yacht. V'Nushku followed, sprinting after him. Suddenly, Tanier heard a loud pop, and V'Nushku fell to the decking with a cry of pain. She had been shot in the leg.

Tanier turned and saw the Under-Secretary, with bruised face and broken nose. He was almost upon the fallen crewman, with his gun drawn, ready to fire again... ...and then Tanier grabbed his phaser, aimed, and fired. The Sierran was caught in the chest by the phaser bolt, and to the horror of the Starfleet lieutenant, he screamed as, in the blink of an eye, he was vaporised. Tanier looked to his phaser. He had failed to check the setting, and it had been set to kill.

Recovering quickly, the Betazoid darted back to V'Nushku, and he slung her over his shoulder. As best as he could, he ran to the captain's yacht.

He lay V'Nushku on the floor, and went to the pilot control panel, but he pounded his fists when he realised that there was no escape.

"Damn it! We'll never get clear; those laser turrets will chew us up!"

"No, sir", came a weak answer from the injured Denmaran. She painfully pointed to her own panel beside Tanier. Lying on top was a handheld computer. "Pass me the PADD."

Tanier did not understand, but he did as he was asked. V'Nushku held the PADD and then, with her left index finger, pressed a red panel on the screen.

The shuttlepad rumbled as multiple explosions rocked the building.

"What the Hell is that?", yelled Tanier. V'Nushku smiled.

"I thought we might have trouble leaving", she uttered, "so I placed plasma charges on the laser turrets when we inspected them. They're out of action now."

Tanier grimaced.

"Crewman, remind me to give you a lecture about procedure when we get back to the ship", he said, but his tone carried no malice.

V'Nushku showed a toothy grin.

"Aye, Lieutenant."

Tanier activated the launch thrusters and the Malcolm Reed lifted from the pad decking, just as a blast rocked the floor beneath the pad, and it tore away from the building, falling to the ground below. Tanier engaged the impulse drive and speedily climbed away, keeping the small viewscreen targeted on the burning Department of War. She was ablaze like lumber now, and the Betazoid doubted any amount of fire-fighting would save her.

How ironic, he thought, that the enemies of the Sierrans have never been able to make a dent in that building, but the allies of the Sierrans have demolished it.

The Malcolm Reed left the atmosphere of Sierra Prime in a matter of minutes, and rapidly went to warp, to rendezvous with Mariner as quickly as possible. When the yacht broke through the atmosphere, Tanier could no longer see the building, so he could not have known that, just as the Reed went to warp, the foundations of the Department of War were smashed by another explosion, and the magnificent building crashed to the ground.

* * * * *

By the time the Malcolm Reed was docking with USS Mariner, the Trojan was departing Ta. Patrick Coleman believed the investigation to be a complete success; there had definitely been an attack on the Ta'ga using nucleonic weapons in the past, and the Ta'ga fleet, so First Blk'Pla Iyaama said, was in the process of being mobilised to meet the Sierran threat.

"We should rendezvous with Mariner in just over one hour", he said to Tasek, who was piloting the new shuttle away from the asteroid field. He had barely finished the sentence, when suddenly the lights flickered, and he could feel and hear the engines surge and die.

"It would appear we may be late", Tasek observed dryly. Coleman ran a diagnostic through his panel.

"It looks like the primary fusion valve has failed", he said. "That will require one of us suiting up and going EVA to fix it from the outside."

Tasek rose from his chair.

"That will require at least two hours' work", he said. "I will go; I am more experienced in zero gravity, and I have more disciplined patience."

Coleman didn't argue.

"I'll transport you out", he said as he moved to the transporter panel. Tasek was already in his pressure suit, and was fastening the helmet. He stepped on to the transporter pad.

"I shall signal you when I am ready to return", he said as he picked up a case of repair tools.

"Understood", Coleman replied as he thumbed the controls. "Energising."

Tasek disappeared from the cabin.

CHAPTER SIX

Simon Anthony was pacing the bridge. Time was in critically short supply; the incoming vessel was just half an hour from the boundary of the Sierran system, but the Trojan had not yet returned. Anthony knew that the shuttle had stopped for repairs; that much had been detected by Alex Lane. Mariner couldn't simply cruise in and retrieve the little ship, however, because that would put them dangerously close to the dreadnought's target.

"Engineering to bridge."

The comm. sounded, and it almost startled the captain.

"Yes, Henry?"

"Captain, I have the primary phaser array back online."

"Wonderful", Anthony grinned. Davies hadn't finished, however.

"I can't do anything about torpedoes, though...the firing circuits are fried. You'd need a starbase crew to deal with that.

"The secondary phaser couplings are also still offline, but I'm still working on them."

"Stick with it, Chief", Anthony encouraged. He turned to the helm, which was once again manned by Lieutenant Lon Tanier.

"Now's as good a time as any to intercept that ship", he said. "Put us on an intercept course, Lon. Full impulse."

The ship accelerated from her stationary position, and before long was flying towards her new foe. Anthony turned to Miklos at tactical.

"Ensign, take us to red alert. Sound battle-stations."

* * * * *

The Cardassian vessel dropped out of warp the moment Mariner crossed her path. Anthony turned to Lane.

"Hail them. I want to warn them off."

The Lunan punched at the comm. panel, but she shook her head.

"They're not responding."

"Sir, they're raising shields and charging weapons", Miklos reported. "Not their nucleonic arsenal though; only standard phasers and torpedoes."

The bridge shook as a phaser blast smashed against the shields on the port bow quarter.

"Return fire", ordered Anthony calmly. "Never forget, Ensign, that conventional weapons still do lots of damage."

He looked at his helmsman.

"Take evasive manoeuvres, Lon."

Miklos called from across the bridge.

"I got a direct hit, sir. No effect."

"Keep firing!", Anthony shouted. "They're not stopping; they're still heading for the Sierran system. We must slow them down!"

Lane looked at the captain in confusion.

"Captain, I don't understand, but..."

She trailed off. Anthony came alongside her.

"Don't understand what, Alex?"

"I've got internal scans of the ship, sir, and I read forty-seven biosigns."

Anthony furrowed his brow.

"So?"

Lane checked her readings again.

"Well, sir, they're not Sierran. They're Ta'ga."

Anthony's head spun.

"What?", he demanded. Lon Tanier called from the helm.

"Confirmed, sir", he reported. "What's more, they're not heading for the hegemony."

Anthony walked back down to his chair. He stood in front of it, so he was just behind the helmsman.

"Where are they heading?", he asked, but he already knew the answer.

So did Lon Tanier, who sounded ill as he replied.

"Sierra Prime, sir."

* * * * *

Tasek rematerialised on the transporter pad of the Trojan, and immediately sat in the pilot's seat. He reinitialised the impulse drive, which returned main power to the shuttle. Coleman did not congratulate him, however. His attention was focused on the sensor display in front of him.

"Lieutenant-Commander", he said breathlessly. "Mariner is under attack! There's a very large vessel heading towards the system. The signature is Cardassian."

Tasek did not change his facial expression. He merely entered a course into the helm.

"Mariner is in a weakened state", he said. "It is our duty to assist."

Coleman nodded.

"I was just about to suggest it, sir", he affirmed.

* * * * *

The next blast knocked Lieutenant Alexandra Lane off her feet.

In a sense, she was lucky, for while she was spread across the floor, her console exploded into flames. She would surely have been killed or badly maimed had she kept her feet. As it was, the ops console was out of action, and Lane escaped with a cut lip.

"We have entered the Sierra system", Tanier announced, still weaving and rolling, trying to avoid the phasers and torpedoes aimed at him. "Sierra Prime will be in range of the nucleonic weapons in four minutes."

"Bridge, I can give you secondary phasers", called Davies over the comm. Anthony smiled.

"Couldn't have been better timing", he replied. "Miklos, fire everything we've got!"

The primary and secondary phasers of the Sovereign-class battleship attacked the shields of the dreadnought with a vengeance, ripping into them mercilessly. On the bridge, Miklos cheered.

"Their forward shields are down!", he exclaimed. His joy was short-lived.

"They've diverted power from their aft shields", he reported, more subdued.

"What's protecting her stern, then?", Anthony demanded. Miklos checked his scans.

"Almost no shielding, sir."

In desperation, Anthony turned back to Tanier.

"Get us behind her, Lon."

Tanier's brow was saturated with perspiration.

"I'm trying sir", he insisted, "but we're not manoeuvrable enough."

"Captain, they're opening their nucleonic torpedo ports", Miklos warned. Then, suddenly, Tanier cried out.

"Look, sir! It's the Trojan!"

On the screen, the Argo shuttle zipped between the two giant vessels. She began curling around towards the stern of the Cardassian ship. All at once, the Ta'ga fired their Cardassian-made phasers on the shuttle as Tasek opened fire.

The Type IX phaser bank tore through what little shield there was at the stern of the dreadnought. Then, the energy beam continued into the hull.

* * * * *

On the Trojan, several panels exploded into sparks, but her shields held, and Coleman hoped that they would remain that way.

"They are diverting power from their forward shields to their aft shields", Tasek told him, just as another phaser bolt collided with the shuttle's shields.

* * * * *

It was Ramelow who noticed the opportunity afforded Mariner by Tasek's assault, and he grabbed it with both hands.

"Ensign Miklos, target their forward hull and fire", he ordered, his fists clenched. He could smell victory.

"Aye, aye, sir", Miklos replied as he hit the 'fire' panel.

* * * * *

Two beams of powerful phased energy leapt from the Starfleet vessel, streaking through space until they met the paper-thin shielding on the bow of the Cardassian ship. The shields were destroyed, and the beams smashed through the hull. Still, the Ta'ga fired on the Starfleet battleship.

Tasek angled the shuttle until it was almost in line with one of the nucleonic torpedo tubes. Then, he launched two spatial micro-torpedoes. One of them crashed into the communications array, silencing anything the crew wished to broadcast to the outside galaxy. The second one, punched off-course by the explosion from the first, barrelled up into one of the tubes, detonating against the nucleonic torpedo and destroying the armoury hatch behind it. In a matter of seconds, the nucleonic particles permeated into the hull and, spread by the energy distribution nodes, infected the Ta'ga crew.

* * * * *

"Captain", Lon Tanier informed Anthony, "one of the nucleonic warheads has exploded in the dreadnought."

Anthony looked to Ramelow.

"Can we beam the Ta'ga crew off before they come in contact with those particles?"

Ramelow looked at his logistics screen.

"No, sir", he answered quietly. "It's too late."

EPILOGUE

Captain's Log, Stardate 56844.9
The relief ships sent by Starfleet arrived in the Sierra system three days ago. By that time, my investigative team had pieced together what we believe constitutes the truth.
It seems that the Sierrans never planned to use an ex-Cardassian ship to eradicate the Ta'ga. They did use a nucleonic missile to destroy the Ta'ga capital city, however, and it was Mariner that came across the smuggling of Cardassian nucleonic particles to Sierra Prime.
From what we gather, using information we downloaded from the main computer of the dreadnought (which we now know to have been named Teskmamal), the ship was to have fired on Sierra Prime, destroying the population. The Ta'ga would claim that it was a handling accident by the Sierrans, who were in fact going to use their weapons on the asteroid hegemony. This would have been accepted hook, line and sinker by Starfleet, who would announce that the war was over, and offer the Ta'ga Federation membership. They didn't count on Mariner's presence.
Fourth Hi'Pla Mehtfet's motives are not so clear-cut. However, Jakob and I believe that Mehtfet was against the genocide campaign, and sought to have the Teskmamal destroyed. It would still have been a win for the Ta'ga, however; we would have thought that it was a Sierran ship, and after destroying her, the Federation Council would have thrown their support behind the Ta'ga and renounced the Sierran confederation. What Mehtfet evidently did not know was just how limited Mariner was, in that we were still severely damaged. I admit, had the ship been at full capacity, it may have worked out for Mehtfet and the Ta'ga. Now, things are even more complicated.
The rumour is that the Council will eject Sierra Prime from the Federation because of the attack on Ta, but the Ta'ga have time and again been a thorn in Starfleet's side. My bet is that Starfleet will be ordered to pull out, and leave the Sierrans and the Ta'ga to slug it out by themselves. At least then we cannot be party to genocide.
* * * * *
The fleet is a hotbed of gossip on another front as well. According to the captain of the Bengal, which is part of the Sierran Relief Force, the Romulans have made overtures at peace. The commanding officer of the Krishna, though, is certain that a task force has been assembled in sector 1045, near the Bassen Rift-and the Romulan-Federation Neutral Zone. Jakob tells me he has heard similar things from the captain of the USS Morgenstern and the first officer of the USS T'Nali. If this is the case, then damage or no, our place is with the fleet. To that end, and without the knowledge of Starfleet, I have ordered the Mariner to proceed at warp seven to sector 1045. Come what may...

* * * * *

"Captain Anthony."

Anthony craned his neck. He was sitting in his chair on the bridge, so Alex Lane's ops station was directly behind him.

"What is it, Alex?", he asked.

"Sir", the young Lunan woman said, "I am receiving a general Priority One message from the Enterprise."

Anthony rubbed his chin.

"On screen."

"I can't, sir", Lane replied, shaking her head. "It's text-only."

Anthony frowned. 'Text-only' meant a Priority One Blue message-Captain's Eyes Only, and urgent. He stood.

"Mr Tanier, what's our ETA to sector 1045?"

The lieutenant consulted his console.

"Four hours, sir."

"Very good."

Anthony moved towards the door of the ready room.

"I'll take the message in here, Alex", he said.

* * * * *

Two minutes later, Anthony emerged from his ready room. Ramelow noticed that the colour had drained from his face.

"Sir, what's wrong?", the first officer inquired. "What did the message say?"

Anthony did not answer. Instead, he sat down in his captain's chair, his movement automatic. Then he clicked his commbadge.

"Engineering, stand-by to go to maximum warp", he said. There was a gasp on the other end of the communications channel. Then came Davies' incredulous reply.

"Captain, I'm barely holding warp seven now. If we push any further-"

"Damn it, Chief! It's not a request, it's an order! Now get to work!", the captain bellowed angrily. His face had gone crimson with anger.

Or is it something else?, thought Ramelow. Something he doesn't want to show...

"Lon, take us to maximum warp, and alter course for the Bassen Rift", Anthony ordered.

Ramelow could not contain his inquisitiveness any longer.

"Sir, what are we doing? The Bassen Rift is inside the Neutral Zone-"

"I know that, Jakob", Anthony interrupted. "I know that."

"Then what...?"

"We're going to help a friend."

* * * * *

When Mariner dropped out of warp, the entire bridge staff stared at the screen in awe. Ramelow rose from his chair next to Anthony.

"Oh my God", he whispered. Anthony did not react.

On the screen was the Enterprise. A great portion of her saucer was gone, ripped apart by...

What?, Lane and Ramelow wondered simultaneously. The answer became apparent when Mariner, now at impulse, flew through a debris field, far too much debris to have been simply from the Enterprise saucer.

Anthony stood.

"Jakob, Lon. You're both with me."

He clicked his commbadge.

"Doctor Taryll, get together as many medical supplies as you can, and meet me in Transporter Room One."

Simon Anthony, Lon Tanier and Jakob Ramelow left the bridge, embarking the turbolift. Their destination: the USS Enterprise NCC-1701E.

* * * * *

The Mariner away team beamed on to the bridge of the Enterprise, to be greeted by William T. Riker, captain of the USS Titan, and former Executive Officer of the Enterprise.

"Captain", he said, shaking Anthony's hand. Anthony surveyed the bridge, taking in everything-the smashed consoles, the scorch marks. The viewscreen, he saw with alarm, was no longer there. In its place, a gaping hole, looking out into space.

"Will, what happened?", managed Ramelow. He could barely choke out the words. Riker shook his head.

"It's a long story."

Doctor Taryll stepped forward.

"Were there any casualties, sir?", he asked, and instantly regretted it. Of course there were casualties; a starship isn't almost destroyed without losing some, or a lot, of the crew.

Riker's eyes clouded.

"Too many", he sniffed quietly. "And one very good friend."

"Who?", ventured Tanier, though being a telepath, he already knew.

Riker sucked in his breath.

"Data", he responded. "Commander Data."