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Star Trek Renegade II - Through the Looking Glass by J. Grey, copyright held by A.P. Atkinson

Part 1 of 3

The year was 2273 and for Captain Jonathon Franks it had not been a particularly good one. Earth and the rest of the Federation was in the process of toughening their borders after the historic contact with V'ger had shown how woefully unprepared they could truly be in the face of a potentially malevolent force. The Constitution refit program had shown the way forward, bristling with new technology and ideas she had helped to usher in a whole new era of Starship design. Her proven frame allowing such innovation to slip past the more reserved officials in the upper echelons of Starfleet, if not unseen then at least not drawing sufficient protest to slow the inexorable march of progress.

He glowered with his usual stoic resolve at the viewer as the stars tumbled listlessly past his ship as it travelled at a leisurely factor of Warp along the border of Federation space.

"Not much to report." The Commander sighed wearily. Her frequent reports of the mission status were growing tiresome and she was beginning to grate the nerves of the crew, not least the Captain who had little tolerance for her in any case.

"We know there's not much to report." He cast his glare sideways to the edge of the diminutive bridge where she sat at her control station. "This is a routine patrol of the neutral zone perimeter, we're only in trouble if there is anything to report. We have discussed this before!"

"Yes Sir." Commander Elisabeth Crowley agreed succinctly before returning her attention to her duty.

"She's just doing her job." The ship's science officer added with a note that carried a hint of sarcasm aimed squarely at the latest addition to the crew.

"And doing it efficiently." The Commander glowered at the Vulcan science officer coldly. She had not served with the vessel long and had made little effort to fit into the close-knit team during the time that she had.

"We'd all prefer if you could do it quietly." Captain Franks told her sternly, his tone leaving little doubt as to his sincerity. "No more reports. I don't need you to tell me nothing every ten minutes. You may consider than order."

"Sir." She protested, turning her chair to face him. "Protocol requires that I bring you up to date on both the mission, ship and crew situation at set intervals. I'm merely following standard procedural guidelines as set out by the requirements of Starfleet."

"Humans!" Science officer Tarvor shook his head mockingly with a raised eyebrow. "So very logical."

The Commander cast him the kind of glower that would frighten large animals and small children but he seemed hardly to notice.

"In my ready room." Captain Franks told her as he hoisted his large body from the centre chair.

"Sir?" She turned to him with some alarm visible through her expression as she realised that another embarrassing round of subtle insinuations and much less subtle rebukes were likely to ensue in the immediate future.

"Now!" He growled loudly sending the bridge into nervous silence as if it seemed even the instruments knew when to stay out of the Captains way.

"Of course." She stammered.

The cold emptiness of space stuttered to itself. The light from the countless stars seemed to flutter for an instant, hazy at the edges as if the light were distorted through a clouded lens as something passed behind the fabric of the universe like a predator stalking through the undergrowth. A shimmer passed over the darkness and the stars began to melt away as faint tendrils of energy began to snake away from the centre, tentatively feeling their way into the normal realm. Suddenly the sphere erupted through space, an opening from the centre of existence tore open reality for an instant spewing out brilliant white light and flickering arcs of lightning which broiled away angrily at the mouth of the event. The potent coiling power spun from the throbbing heart, twisting out into space with flaming fingers of pure energy. The light seemed to grow in brilliance as if the heart of a star was being forced through and suddenly a dark shape emerged from the centre. The arrow exploded out from the gigantic opening and ran smouldering from the broiling maelstrom at the eye, the light danced over the metallic silhouette as the tiny vessel made her escape. As the dart shaped object tumbled back into normal space the opening vanished instantly, closing as if never there. The alien ship recovered herself and with flashes from her damaged systems it began to drift along with its engines glowing dully along her silver hull.

"Sit down." Captain Franks told her, gesturing to a chair opposite the desk in the tiny ready-room that was wrapped uneasily around the circular bridge making it seem as if space was at a premium on the small patrol ship, for indeed it was.

She remained silent as she took the seat while awaiting yet another angry rebuke from her new commanding officer.

"This is a Starfleet ship." He began thoughtfully as his fingers knotted together behind his back. His chest was pounding furiously as he glowered at the wall, his anger broiling away inside him.

"Of course." She agreed softly, hoping to provoke him the very least amount possible.

"This is, however, clearly not the kind of ship that you're more used to serving on." He told her, turning towards his officer accusingly.

"I am attempting to adjust." She told him, hanging her head like a scolded child.

"We don't always follow regulations here." He said with a heavy sigh as a grin fluttered over his lips as he appreciated the irony of his own understatement. "I have crossed into the neutral zone three times in the last four years. Twice I've had no choice but to order the destruction of an alien vessel."

"I don't understand?" She frowned at his words. "You've crossed into the neutral zone? How is that legal?"

"The Romulans don't much care." He told her with a deep breath. "They cross into our space under cloak so when I chase them out we're in stalemate. They can't complain at the destruction of their ship because they were in violation of treaty and we don't tend to make a fuss either. It's more beneficial for both sides if we don't make a big political issue out of it, which could all too easily escalate into a war. I'm under orders to take any actions I see fit in the event of a border incursion."

"I'm not quite following." She admitted. "Starfleet have ordered you to execute Romulans if they cross into our space?"

"You're right." He nodded sadly. "You're not quite following." He swallowed and marshalled his thoughts for a moment before continuing. "The Romulans are defeated. Their last full-scale incursion was defeated both publicly and violently by Captain Kirk and they learnt their lesson from it. Nobody wants a war but that is what might happen if a Romulan vessel managed to get deep enough into Federation space. It would be virtually unavoidable."

"So every time they test our resolve you give them a bloody nose?" She sighed. "No matter who gets hurt?"

"You're one of three crewmen who replaced the last members of my team that did get hurt." He slammed down his palms on his desk and leant threateningly towards her.

"So you're saying that following procedure is irrelevant here?" She slunk backwards into her chair reflexively.

"No." He said simply.

"Then what?" She flicked her eyes dubiously upwards to meet his.

"I'm saying that we can't always live the life that we're here to protect." He told her sternly. "This ship has a crew of only 21 people and each one owes their lives to one another. If they don't then they will by then end of the next crew rotation."

"So I'm a member of the crew but not a member of the team?" She crossed her arms over her chest in meek disapproval. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"You will have to be both." He told her. "This is a close team. We know each other and we work well because we know what we're all capable of."

"You've seen my record." She looked away as his ceaseless stare became more than a little uncomfortable.

"I have." He agreed. "But now you have to prove you can be one of us."

"I don't know about that, Sir." She grumbled weakly.

"Starfleet thinks you're one of us." He leant away with a wide grin. "That means they don't want you anywhere else. It seems you have a lot to prove to a lot of other people too. Nobody gets posted here for the good of their career."

The USS Ronin was still docked at her construction facility. Webbed by an intricate lacework of pylons and offices as the Starfleet crew ran the usual battery of tests designed to prove what they already knew.

Captain Singh read through the latest batch of reviews that told him everything his team of engineers had told him three months earlier.

"The ship is completely ready for deep space assignments." Chief Engineer Williams said with a note of frustration. "The Miranda platform is perfectly safe, the brass are just dragging their heels because the leap is too much for them to take in. They don't trust her because they're old, not because there's anything wrong with the design."

"It was the same story when the introduced the good old Constitution." The Captain added wistfully with a sympathetic smile at the engineer's understandable frustration. "The Miranda will work out. Who knows, one day it may be as common as sight as that grand old Federation Starship?"

"More so!" Williams said enthusiastically. "She's got some radical new engineering in her. She's built for the future and she's ready to face it head on."

"Well this ship is ready to prove it." The Captain laid the file pad on his desk and smiled.

"She's even better than a standard Miranda!" The engineer grinned with self-satisfaction. "The brass might not believe in the platform but that just means we have to show them what we're offering them."

"Upgraded Phaser cannons and launchers, high speed targeting computers and advanced sensor grid." The Captain nodded in agreement. "This ship is built to take on a fleet of Klingons!"

"Well I don't know if we could handle a fleet but we're in good shape if we had to face a D7 or two." The engineer grinned. The Captain smirked knowingly at his staff member's unbridled enthusiasm and belief in the ship.

"Well it doesn't look like we're going to have to." The Captain winced slightly with an objectionable glower at the thought.

"We finally have our orders?" The engineer's eyes lit up excitedly. "We're going out?"

"We're going out." The Captain nodded in agreement. "No more safety net."

"We don't need one." Williams said proudly. "With the exception of the new Enterprise we're just about the most powerful ship out here and I'll help you prove it."

"She took the hint?" Tarvor asked with a raised eyebrow as the Captain entered the bridge.

"I doubt it." He admitted wearily. "If this doesn't work I may have to have her reassigned. I've never met an officer like her out here in the patrol lanes."

"An officer dedicated to duty and the chain of command?" The science officer asked sarcastically. "Perhaps that's why you've ended up assigned to this floating junk heap on the worst assignment in the fleet?"

"I volunteered." Franks reminded him coldly, rocking back on the balls of his feet as he glowered at the officer. "This is where I've chosen to be."

"Quite so." Tarvor agreed with a sigh. "That in itself should make both myself and Starfleet very suspicious of you."

"And for the record, if I hear you refer to my ship as a floating junk heap again I shall assume you no longer wish to be aboard and have you ejected into deep space."

"With breathing apparatus, I presume?" The science officer raised an eyebrow.

"I may allow you a snorkel if you're very nice to me in the interim period." The Captain acceded with a grin as his harshness vanished.

"Actually I have been running a metallurgical scan on the hull over the last few days." Tarvor began earnestly. "I don't like some of the things I'm seeing."

"If it's your reflection in the panel I wouldn't like it either." Franks told him flatly with a ghost of a smile.

"The thermo-coat is beginning to lose its cohesion on the port side." He began with a sigh. "The structure of the paintwork is breaking down, without it we wouldn't be protected from the radiation backwash from our own shields."

"In two months we're due to head back to base for a refit." The Captain shrugged without concern. "We're going to be upgraded with the same new deflector shields as the Constitution refit. They'll probably strip the thermo-coat straight off her hull then like they did on the Enterprise."

"Probably." He sighed again. "In the mean time we've taken quite a pounding over the last six months and the signs are beginning to show. Where the paint has broken down the metal beneath has started to corrode. This ship is not what she once was."

"The crew as well." Captain Franks shrugged. "When I took command of her she was intended to be the cutting edge of Starfleet design. It's hard to believe that was only ten years ago."

"It's been a long decade." The science officer agreed. "The crew have just gone largely insane, the ship is suffering metal fatigue and long-term shield abrasion to her protective coating. The Warp coils are over-loaded with a build up of negative particles and the core crystals are showing signs of developing micro-fractures."

"Is there any good news?" The Captain dropped his chin to his upturned palm dejectedly.

"Yes." The Vulcan officer nodded in agreement. "The upgrades to the weapons by the engineers are holding and the structural integrity field coils are in good shape. The shuttle pod also seems to be working again."

"The shuttle pod?" Franks sat up in his command chair with a frown.

"Yes, the one we have is frequently abused by the security team for scouting-ahead duties. It does appear to have recovered from the last rounds of abuse to a certain degree." He grumbled. "For the record we also have an officers lounge and an observation room where the crew meet up for the purpose of social interaction and relaxation."

"I'm a busy man." The Captain told him sternly, waving his hand at the suggestion dismissively.

"We're all busy." The officer told him bluntly. "It would be nice to see you there once in a while after a busy duty shift. That's all I'm saying."

"I'll see what I can do." The Captain allowed himself a smile.

The tiny silver ship stalked through space, streaking along with her engines pulsing gently in her small winglets. The reflection of countless stars danced over her metallic hull as she made her way along toward her target. She had detected her enemy and was locked into a pursuit course. She was ready now to engage them. Suddenly her weapons lashed out.

"Incoming message on Subspace signal." Tarvor said with a raised eyebrow. It's addressed for the eyes of the C.O. only and marked as vital mission data."

"Excellent." The Captain rolled his eyes. "More good news. Transfer to my ready-room console, I'll get round to it later."

"I'm detecting something." Commander Crowley began dubiously, still reeling from her most recent round of verbal abuse.

"Something?" The Captain turned to her, losing interest almost instantly in the instructions from Starfleet.

"It's a small vessel which seems to be taking weapons fire." She shrugged at the incomplete readings. "I can't be more precise than that at this range."

"Confirmed!" Tarvor agreed with a raised eyebrow. "I don't detect a second ship but I'm seeing the kind of radiation spikes typical of a shield response. Something is taking damage and it reads as benign. It must be a Federation vessel of some kind; probably civilian."

"Set course." The Captain ordered. "Engage Warp and take her to maximum speed."

"We'll be in visual contact in ten minutes if we go to Warp 8." The Commander suggested. "That would take us to emergency speeds but under the circumstances, protocol would allow us to do so at your discretion." She shut her eyes and silenced herself as she realised her habit for quoting regulations had spilled over once again.

"Tarvor?" The Captain turned to his science officer.

"She can take it." He sighed. "I'll contact the engineer and get him to schedule yet another round of inspections to the Warp-coils for tomorrow morning. He's going to call me lots of nasty names again."

"While you're at it, tell him to prepare damage control teams and that in future he can aim the nasty names at me any time he's feeling unusually brave." The Captain grinned. "Red alert, Battle stations. Engage at Warp 8."

The small Federation ship was a civilian vessel. She was stubby and boxy with twin snub engines bolted uneasily at her tail. It lurched to the side as another barrage of viscous red energy crackled over her shields. The tiny dart-shaped vessel sped past in another attack run before heading away, banking hard to avoid the ships defensive fire.

"It's a Spacematic conversion. J2 light-freighter class ship!" Commander Crowley confirmed from her readings. "They're in good shape, the attacking vessel doesn't seem to have done a lot of damage yet."

"Romulan?" The Captain guessed.

"I can't confirm that." Tarvor shook his head. "I'm not seeing any sign of cloaking, I'm just not getting any readings from the ship. The weapons fire doesn't appear to match up to a Romulan or Klingon disrupter."

"It's small." The Commander guessed. "From the attack pattern the vessel is highly manoeuvrable. My guess is that it's no longer than 20 metres and probably even less than that."

"A fighter perhaps." The Captain suggested. He turned to the tactical officer. "Rig the Phaser grid for maximum power. Transfer energy from wherever you need it. We may only have one good shot so let's make it count."

"Confirmed!" Lieutenant Sneddon agreed without taking his attention from the targeting scanner.

"It's going to be hard to get a lock." Tarvor added. "I can't transfer you any data from the sensors. You may have to fire on manual."

"No problem, Sir!" Lieutenant Sneddon smiled to himself. "I've been knocking out cloaking vessels for more years than I care to remember. I can do this."

"You wouldn't be sitting there if you couldn't!" Captain Franks smiled. "Make us proud."

The USS Asimov dropped from Warp speed with a flash, the streaking stars pulling back to silvery dots that punctuated the endless canvas of the universe.

The view screen showed the filthy grey vessel before them with a wispy trail of glowing plasma venting from the nacelle as a small vessel came up behind her on another attack run.

"Permission to fire, sir?" The Lieutenant asked as the yellow cross-hair lined up manually on the glowing exhaust of the alien vessel. Suddenly the brilliant light of the Phasers tore out from the ship and connected with the rear of the unprepared vessel.

"Permission granted, Mr. Sneddon." The Captain smiled. "Status?"

"I still can't detect the vessel." The science officer frowned in frustration. "I can detect the carbon scoring on their hull caused by the impact of our weapons. I'm sending the tracking lock to the tactical console now."

The Captain pressed a few buttons on the side of his chair. "This is Captain Jonathon Franks of the Federation Starship, USS Asimov." He began as the communications channel opened. "Cease your attack and surrender your vessel."

"They're coming about." The Commander warned. "If their main weapons are front mounted they may be planning to turn them on us."

"They could also be attempting to obscure their damage from our sensors." Tarvor added.

"Warn them!" Captain Franks said grimly. The view lit up with another Phaser blast that skipped over the hull of the small ship. It crackled over the shields but was carefully calculated to cause as little damage as possible.

The Federation vessel in the distance followed up with a stream of photon torpedoes that arced towards the tiny vessel. Four glowing bolts flickered towards their target.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Captain Franks barked in surprise as he leapt from the chair.

"That ship has no launcher according to my data." The Commander said in surprise. The first of the fierce weapons caught the tiny ship sending a concentrated arc of fire into their defences. The other three followed quickly, each delivering their deadly power.

"What's their status?" The Captain asked; his voice lowered as he turned towards the science officer, his eyes still fixed on the viewer as if he were unable to drag them away.

"They're going to have a headache in the morning." He quipped. "Don't ask me how but the hull looks to be in one piece. They'll survive if they don't get hit again."

"Open a channel." The Captain said quietly with a shake of the head. He began more authoritatively. "This is the Captain of the Starfleet vessel to the Federation ship. We have the situation under control. Cease fire and stand down your weapons immediately." He turned to his helm officer. "Bring us in between them."

"No reply." Commander Crowley shook her head and frowned in confusion. "Perhaps their communications were damaged in the attack?"

"They received our message." Tarvor told her. "You can't view a Federation message without activating a confirmation signal. We've had that back already. They just don't have anything to say."

"They may be better armed than we are." The Captain turned to his small bridge crew. "Maybe they feel they don't need to say anything."

"Warp spike!" The Commander warned with a sense of urgency. "They're energising their Warp coils..."

The Captain turned to the viewer as the Federation vessel vanished in a flash of energy.

"Set pursuit course into the computer in case we need to go after them." He ordered as his jaw tensed and an angry frown set onto his brow.

"Captain!" Tarvor frowned as he reconfirmed his readings. "I can follow their course but I can't match their speed."

"What?" The Captain turned to him with an expression of annoyance. "That's just a civilian vessel. How fast can it go?"

"According to the sensors it left at Warp 9.8 and continued climbing." He raised an eyebrow. "I've double checked my readings and they're correct."

"Civilian vessels are limited by law to Warp 6 due to safety concerns." Commander Crowley snapped up. "Spacematics are able to run at considerably less than that."

"When it comes mindlessly quoting the regulations I would consider it wise to trust your evaluation of the situation." Tarvor mocked her wryly. "There is clearly more going on here than meets the eye."

"The alien ship?" The Captain said loudly enough to kill the discussion and return the bridge to the matter at hand.

"It's not moving." The Commander began.

"I'm maintaining a manual target lock with the Phasers." Lieutenant Sneddon added. "They're not taking any provocative action but I'm still unable to lock on with the tracking sensors."

"So beaming the crew out is not an option." The Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"We could tow them aboard." Tarvor suggested. "The vessel is slightly smaller than our shuttle. I can have that drawn into the service bay to make room for it."

"Mr. Sneddon, please take a security team to the shuttle bay and evacuate all non-essential personnel from the rear of the ship." The Captain instructed as the officer quickly stood up from his position without more than a nod of agreement. Lieutenant Sneddon pressed the button on his wrist communicator to summon the people he required as he left the bridge.

"You're taking an unknown alien vessel on board this ship?" Commander Crowley began in protest.

"There may be injured on board." He replied simply to quash her arguments.

"Need I remind you that they attacked a Federation vessel?" She protested.

"The evidence would seem to bear out that that was not a Federation vessel." Tarvor told her as he took his seat at the tactical station.

"A civilian vessel would not be heading this close to the neutral zone." The Captain told her sternly. "They wouldn't be that well armed and they certainly wouldn't be that fast."

"We know our jobs." The science officer told her. "We've been doing them since before they let you into a simulator."

"It's not unusual for Romulans to attempt to disguise their vessels." The Captain told her more calmly, glancing to his communicator for confirmation that the shuttle bay was ready. "They may have captured a Federation ship and upgraded it, they may have built a replica for some reason. Things happen out here that you wouldn't expect to see deeper in our territory."

"Especially on this ship..." She grunted objectionably.

"On my ship." Franks corrected her dryly.

The USS Ronin drifted away from the construction yards as the lights danced across her grey hull like fingers caressing their lover's body. The ship had less of the elegance of the Constitution, her nacelles were tucked in closer to the hull and her flat shape bulged at the rear with additional decks and two large shuttle bays sunk into her angular stern. There was still a beauty to her design, a glimmer of inefficiency carved into her by a designer that retained an eye for aesthetics and her lines were still something to behold.

The Captain looked on while his crew scuttled about on their tasks with consummate ease. They were a new crew to this ship but not unseasoned. The Ronin had something to prove and she had been staffed by the best crew able to do it. Her mission was to chart anomalies along the Klingon border. It was hoped that a quick and efficient completion of that simple task would help to pave the way for the full-scale production of the Miranda class vessel. It was also secretly hoped that a new and powerful class of Starship seen patrolling the borders may send a message to the warlike race that the Federation were continuing to keep a watchful eye on them and were ready for trouble. If that trouble were indeed to befall the ship then a lot of effort had been taken to ensure that she were equal to the challenge. If it should indeed befall her than any opposition to the Miranda project would be instantly quelled and indeed many people involved on all sides of the project were secretly, and somewhat tastelessly, hoping for just such an occurrence.

The Captain watched his team as the scaffolding vanished around the vessel. He wanted to leave them a wide berth at first; the better to gauge their abilities and skills. Certainly from what he'd seen there were no problems and any slight annoyances could be quickly ironed out and adjusted to his very flexible style of command.

"We've cleared the array." The helm operator reported dryly, maintaining a watchful eye on the readings while more captivated by the spectacle in the viewer as the vision of the stars and the planet Mars before them replaced the machinations of the construction facility.

"No more safety net." He smiled. "We have a job to do and now it's time to show just how well we can do it."

"Yes Sir!" He agreed. "We're more than ready. This ship is the future."

Captain Franks stood at the sealed pressure doors with his science officer behind him as he waited patiently.

"Lieutenant Sneddon to the Captain." The intercom device on his wrist flashed a warning as the message came through. "The alien vessel is secure. We're showing no signs of any danger and have re-pressurised the hold."

"Excellent." He sighed to himself as the large metal door slid open with a hiss.

"I still suggest caution." Tarvor noted absently as the pair walked in through the door at the side of the small service bay. "We don't know what's inside that ship yet."

"Well we know it's not Romulan." The Captain added conversationally as they passed the modified shuttle pod. It was an older standard type but had been reduced in size for easier accommodation aboard the less spacious vessel. The Asimov could only manage to store a single shuttle but another was held in the stores in a dismantled state and could be serviceable in less than four hours if a dedicated engineering team were able to remain focused and sober for that length of time.

"No. It's not Romulan." The science officer agreed as he reviewed the information on his pad. "Although we can't discount the possibility of them acquiring new technology."

"I'll settle for your best opinion as always." Captain Franks told him with a smile.

"Well then my opinion is that we should get under way in pursuit of the Federation vessel." He began. "I'll make a navigational scan but if it looks like we may come across anywhere where we can take a few days of shore leave then I'll turn my opinion into an official recommendation."

"We're not due to stand down quite yet." The Captain told him. "Anyway, before we leave the area I want to have some rough idea as to what we're likely to find. That alien vessel may have all the answers we need."

"And it may hold a gelatinous blob of intelligent organic liquid." Tarvor suggested dryly.

"Do you know I've actually lost count of how many times you've suggested something unknown may contain a gelatinous blob of organic liquid." The Captain shook his head and suppressed a laugh.

"It could happen..." He narrowed his eyes accusingly.

Lieutenant Sneddon looked over the alien ship. It was small with a sharply pointed nose. The hull was simple and had little detail beyond the dulled metallic surface. At the top was a sleek set of darkened windows and the swept back winglets finished in a narrow set of vents. A single flush-fitting hatchway was at either side of the hull and she bore no markings.

The officer's hand hovered near to the Phaser weapon on his hip as he surveyed the alien vessel.

"Not much to this ship!" Ensign Copley commented as he stepped gingerly around the secure vessel. "I certainly don't recognise the design."

"That's none of our business, Copley. Nobody really cares what you think." The Lieutenant scolded. "Just keep your eyes peeled for any sign of movement. That's our job here."

Behind him the door to the main shuttle bay opened as the two officers stepped in. "Report!" Captain Franks ordered with his usual authority while Tarvor began sweeping the vessel with his Tricorder.

"Not much going on!" The Lieutenant began. "The ship was easy enough to lock down. I would guess it's designed for easy docking, maybe it's just an auxiliary ship of some kind."

"Nothing." Tarvor dropped the Tricorder to his side. "It's like the ship isn't even here. I can detect Ensign Copley's greasy fingerprints floating at the far side of the shuttle bay hangar."

"Copley!" The Lieutenant shouted in rebuke. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself?"

"I trust you can sort this out amongst yourselves at a more appropriate time?" The Captain smirked knowingly at the sheepish expression of the junior officer.

"I'll sort him out." Lieutenant Sneddon told him with an angry snarl at the Ensign. "I'm very sorry about this, Sir."

"So how do we get in?" Captain Franks continued with a dismissive wave. "Any sign of an access panel switch?"

"Nothing we can detect." The Lieutenant began. "Nothing much in the way of detail anywhere. It looks like it's built for speed and strength and from the slender shape I would guess it's probably inter-atmospheric."

"It has windows at the top so it seems a safe assertion that it has a crew of at least one aboard." Tarvor surmised as he surveyed the craft with interest. "It has no weapons points either and yet we know it was firing."

"No thrusters." The Captain rubbed his chin. "No vents, no ports. The outer shell looks largely smooth."

"Maybe the hull material is capable of emitting energy wakes for propulsion?" The science officer said thoughtfully. "If that's he case then they may be able to use the same principal for weapons and even navigational deflection."

"Then again it could be powered by chemical rockets that just fell off." The Lieutenant grinned at his superior. "Sir." He added sarcastically for good measure.

"While possible I would suggest that that is unlikely." Tarvor sneered at him coldly.

"Well who knows what these gelatinous blobs get up to?" The young officer cast a knowing glance at the Captain.

"Exactly." The Captain agreed with a wink back. "And that's exactly what we're here to find out. Lieutenant, I'd like you to remain here while an engineering team begin an investigation of this craft."

"Yes Sir." He nodded happily.

"Stay here, Tarvor." The Captain continued to his science officer. "I want you to head up the engineering team. I'm going to set course to follow that Federation ship after all. If we can't get answers from this ship then we'll have to get them from the Spacematic. That doesn't mean I'm quite ready yet to assume that there's nothing we can learn here!"

Commander Crowley ran her fingers over the chair. The bridge of a Foundation class ship was a small one but well laid-out nonetheless. Before her was a single console that doubled as the navigation and helm control and at her left was the tactical station. There were only two other stations to be manned, the science systems and the operations-chief that she usually filled herself. She sat now at the Captains position at the heart of the vessel, the centre chair from which all things were controlled. Along the sides of the seat were over-ride switches for every system on the ship. She could dump the core or fire the weapons, go to Warp or activate the shields, all at the press of the correct buttons laid out before her. She relished the power beneath her fingers, even power over a small ship such as it was.

"The course is laid in." Ensign Morely told her dutifully.

"Engage at Warp-factor 5." She ordered. She watched in silence as the screen exploded in light as the warp coils deep beneath her bent the fabric of space and propelled the ship at unimaginable speed.

"Warp speed confirmed." She said with satisfaction as the ship duly complied with her input instructions.

"Speed holding with only a 3% drag."

"3%?" The Commander frowned. She flicked open the controls to open a communications channel to the engine room. "We have a 3% drag on our Warp factor." She began accusingly. "Can you offer me an explanation?"

"Yes Sir." The reply came forth almost instantly with a broad Irish lilt to the voice. "The coils haven't been purged properly in three years and we missed the last minor upgrade round 5 years ago after Starfleet cancelled them on the entire class. According to the simulated projections the crew should need to get out to push by now but my team have kept her together."

"I see." The Commander frowned.

"The Captain knows how well we do our jobs down here." The engineer told her as he closed the channel in disgust.

"Bridge out, I suppose." The Commander sighed.

"I need to see you." Doctor Pavlov told the Captain over the comm.

"Can it wait?" He pressed the button on his wrist to respond.

"I think you need to hear this and I think you should be hearing it from me." The Doctor told him. "The sooner the better."

"I'm on my way." The Captain frowned with concern.

Doctor Pavlov ran an efficient medical bay and prided himself on it. He sat in quiet contemplation as the only member of his staff worked on sorting out a large rack of samples that he'd deliberately rearranged that morning to give the medic something to do.

"Why don't you take a break?" He suggested with a weary sigh as he turned to the young woman.

"I'm fine." She smiled with her usual enthusiasm for duty.

"Now." He smiled humourlessly at her.

"Oh." She muttered, stepping back from the samples and wiping her hands on her uniform. "I suppose I could get some coffee."

"Take half an hour." He told her.

"I've only been working for two." She shrugged. "I'm not due a break."

"The menial tasks will still need doing when you get back." He told her coldly. "I promise I won't do anything trivial and mundane so you won't miss out on anything."

"Yes Sir." She glowered at him. She largely got on with every other member of the crew except Lieutenant Sneddon who had made several uninvited sexual advances and then told everyone else they were a couple and to expect a dent in their head the same shape as the butt of his Phaser if they looked at her in the wrong way. The Doctor was the person she worked with most closely and while still in awe of the good parts of his reputation she found him caustic and difficult.

"Have you read the message that Starfleet sent you?" Doctor Pavlov asked as he lowered his aging body into the chair in his small office.

"Not yet." The Captain admitted with a shrug. "It's probably nothing important, it never is."

"I think this time it may be." The Doctor exhaled loudly and rubbed his temples. "They sent me a message too."

"Saying?" Captain Franks asked, his mood darkening.

"They wanted more information on your condition before they take final action." He began. "They've been watching your communications logs carefully and they're more than a little concerned about you."

"What do they know?" The Captain asked, his voice barely a whisper as his mind filled with thoughts.

"I've told them you're suffering from a chronic stress disorder and up to now they seem to have believed me." He told him with a weak sigh. "That's not a mental disorder of any kind and wouldn't be recorded on your permanent record."

"Thank you." Franks nodded his gratitude.

"They know it's more serious than that." The Doctor told him flatly. "They know you're suffering from something that runs a little deeper."

Captain Franks rubbed his head and closed his eyes while he marshalled his rampaging thoughts. "I suppose I'm lucky." He smiled humourlessly. "They could have suspected a long time before this."

"That's true." He agreed. "I can't carry on lying to them any longer. They know something is wrong."

"I appreciate everything you've done for me up to now." Franks told his old friend.

"This is just battle-fatigue." The Doctor sighed. "Post traumatic stress disorder. You've served on the front line for just too many years. You need to seriously think about a making some changes. I would imagine that all they have in mind is putting you behind a desk for a few years."

"I can't." He smiled. "This is my ship and I belong here."

"Nobody wants that more than me." The Doctor assured him. "If they ask me I'll happily tell them that this is where you belong."

"But it's not going to happen, is it?" The Captain hung his head wearily under the weight of the very thought of surrendering his command.

"Perhaps you need a desk job for a few years." He suggested hopefully. "A change of pace might do you the world of good."

"Like Kirk did?" The Captain snapped up angrily. "Can you see me accepting an office when being out here is all I want; all I ever wanted?

"What about your wife and daughter?" The Doctor continued and ignored his sudden change of mood.

"I haven't see them in over three years." He sighed. "The fact of my absence is all that holds our relationship together."

"I just wanted to warn you." The Doctor shook his head. "It looks like your message might just be the promotion we've been dreading."

"Sir." The Commander of the USS Ronin stepped onto the raised platform at the centre of the bridge as he took his seat. "A communication for you." The Captain took the pad and opened the data. He quickly scanned the information and frowned deeply.

"We're to change course?" He said rhetorically with a curious expression of interest.

"To our side of the Romulan neutral zone." The Commander agreed. "Strange. This vessel has yet to prove herself."

"Indeed." He agreed. He looked again over the notes he'd received. "We're to assist the USS Asimov in the capture of a small alien vessel and the pursuit of a Federation ship that may have initiated an aggressive encounter."

"I know." She agreed with a shrug as he pondered how odd the instructions were. "Surely the ship is equipped to handle such a routine mission herself. Why would she need us?"

"Perhaps Starfleet feels we need a quick shakedown before we begin?" The Captain sighed.

"We've run the ship at Warp for 5 hours and completed every test in the book." The Commander retorted. "The engineer says the ship is ready for anything."

"I'm sure the Asimov could easily cope if this information is accurate." The Captain said. "I know her Captain well, we were at the academy together."

"Captain Franks?" She asked.

"He's a good man." The Captain agreed. "He's carved out of stone. I can't imagine very much could happen anywhere that he couldn't handle even if he were in a shuttle armed with a hand-Phaser."

"Sir!" Ensign Copley stepped away from the small metallic vessel in surprise.

"Copley?" The Lieutenant called out in surprise as he heard the cry of his junior officer. "What is it?" The officer bounded around the tiny shuttle-bay to face the perturbed young man. He was pointing fearfully to the rear of the captured alien vessel. The Lieutenant followed his finger to where they stood. Two of them. Grey metal frames floated unwaveringly before them, each holding a smoked black sheet of glass. Through the glass two aliens stood gazing out through almond-shaped black eyes. They had pale skin and emotionless faces but as the Humans looked around them they were invisible if not viewed through the frames.

"I think they're aliens." The Ensign said finally, turning to his superior.

"Not Romulans then..." He agreed with a grin. He stepped forward gingerly to the pair of visitors. "I'm Lieutenant Sneddon of the United Federation of Planets Starship, USS Asimov." He began. "We are on a peace keeping mission and your weapons fire with the other vessel was in violation of local laws."

"Coo're'Ganna." One of the pair hissed, the voice was high in tone and grating to a human ear like spoken as a rasping kind of echo.

"Right." The Lieutenant shrugged. "Maybe we better call the Captain."

"I'd like to speak with you in my office." Captain Franks told the Commander sternly as he stepped onto his bridge with his science officer behind him. She glanced in surprise and duly complied with his instructions, following him to the side of the bridge. "Is there a problem?" She asked cautiously.

"Maybe." He nodded. "You too please, Mr. Tarvor."

Once inside he sealed the door and sat down quietly behind the small counter. He gestured for her to sit opposite while his science officer took his usual seat.

"There's something you don't know." He began with a sigh.

"Sir?" She raised an eyebrow curiously and allowed him to continue.

"Your service record isn't spotless." He reminded her. "Your grades in the academy were excellent but you had problems on your last assignment."

"Yes Sir." She agreed somewhat deflated. "I was under the impression that you were aware of all the details before I was sent here."

"I was." He nodded. "I just want you to be aware of the conditions aboard this vessel."

"I'm learning." She huffed.

"You're not the only officer here with a chequered past by any means." Tarvor told her knowingly. "We all have our secrets. Starfleet has a tendency to find things for officers like us to do which keeps us nicely out of the way."

"I get the feeling you're about to tell me something." She noted casually with a growing sense of uneasiness.

"I've just had a conversation with the Doctor." The Captain told her with a deep sigh.

"The Doctor seems eminently qualified from my reviews of the manifest." The Commander noted as she looked. "He is a veteran with twenty years of Starfleet before his assignment to this ship."

"He's a good man." Captain Franks agreed with a hearty nod. "I had to pull a lot of strings to get him here."

"How many stings did you have to pull to arrange the posting of a Vulcan science officer to this vessel?" She asked suspiciously.

"Perhaps a more pertinent question might be, how many favours did you have to call in to get the Doctor out of prison?" Tarvor asked with an innocent expression.

"What?" The Commander snapped up with an expression of alarm.

"He's had his problems in the past and I feel he deserves a second chance." The Captain told her bluntly. "He's one of the best Doctors in the fleet."

"And he is chemically addicted to Plarion fire." The science officer shook his head dolefully. "It comes in a bottle and tastes almost like water. A few minutes after drinking it every nerve in your body lights up with pleasure impulses."

"He killed a patient." The Captain told her. "He came forward and handed himself to the authorities or else nobody would ever have known. It was determined that the addiction had damaged his judgement to such a degree that he had been negligent of the needs of his patient."

"He was charged?" She frowned in annoyance. "Even if he was rehabilitated how did he ever get readmitted to Starfleet?"

"You can't rehabilitate someone with an addiction to Plarion fire." Tarvor told her calmly. "It causes permanent damage to the nerve centre of the brain so that eventually pleasure can never be experienced without using the drink. It's a very unpleasant creation."

"He's demonstrated that he can function with his condition." Franks said finally to end the conversation. I'd rather have him on board my ship that an academy graduate that barely knows which end of the scalpel not to scratch his head with."

"But surely..." She began to protest.

"He's the best man." The Captain said forcibly. "We're not going to get McCoy or even Florence Nightingale out here. We need him and he happens to be my friend. He's worked well with this team and we trust him."

"Yes Sir." She muttered. "I don't understand a lot of the procedures this crew appears to have adopted and considers normal."

"Well in the Doctor's case it's very simple." Tarvor told her flatly. "He requires many things to survive including air to breath, food to eat and now this chemical as well. All you have to understand is that if he had to choose any one of those it would probably be the Plarion fire."

"I see." She said finally, shaking her head and harbouring an expression of disapproval.

"The problem isn't with him and I think you both need to hear this." The Captain said finally.

"It gets worse?" The Commander quipped humourlessly with an indelicate avoidance of subtlety.

"I received a message from Starfleet." He began grimly. "We're to complete a routine sweep and return to Earth. This ship is to be decommissioned."

"What?" Tarvor gasped. "You cannot be serious?"

"In part it's due to my mental condition." Franks told him with a nod.

"Mental condition..." The Commander turned to face her Captain in shock.

"The Captain has a minor stress disorder." Tarvor told her to save him from the embarrassment of doing so. "It has no serious consequences and can only affect mood and temperament, it does not in any way impair judgement or reasoning."

"Well Starfleet no longer seems willing to accept that." The Captain told them. "It seems I'm to be kept under closer watch and this vessel is to be scrapped."

Suddenly a tone rung around the office from Captain Frank's communicator.

"Clo'gran." The alien creature repeated as it stood in the bay glaring round with the other beside it.

"I'm Captain Franks." He told the aliens, stepping forward with his palms slightly exposed to reveal his lack of weapons.

"Humans." The creature slurred. It turned to look at the other and the pair pressed a few buttons on a small silver device on the side of their heads. "We can speak Human now."

"I have some questions for you." The Captain told them, crossing his arms over his large chest.

"We need your ship." The leader of the pair told him. "Ours is simply too badly damaged. You will have to destroy them for us."

"We're not destroying anyone!" The Lieutenant shouted angrily. The Captain spun around and shot him a caustic glare. "Except Romulans, sir." He muttered weakly by way of an apology. "Or Klingons, I don't mind shooting at Klingons."

"I don't think you fully understand your position." The Captain told the aliens. "You're not going to be taking over my ship."

The alien frowned at him as if it didn't understand. "We cannot crew your ship. You must destroy our enemies."

"We are content to destroy people should the need arise with no possibility of avoidance." Tarvor began by way of an explanation. "The problem is that you are in Federation space and were firing on a Federation vessel. As far as we're concerned you are our enemies."

"No." The Clo'gran told him firmly. "You are in many ways quite wrong."

"Security." Captain Franks turned from the aliens. "Escort these gentleman to the briefing room on deck 3 where we can continue this conversation in more cordial surroundings."

"Sir!" Lieutenant Sneddon agreed with a nod, stepping forward to usher the creatures to the door.

Captain Franks stepped closer to his science officer. "I want you inside that ship with a Tricorder in two minutes and inside my office with answers in two hours." He said with a lowered voice.

"I imagine I can arrange not to disappoint you on either." He smiled conceitedly.

"You better not." The Captain told him. "I can feel my stress levels rising all the time and I'd hate for anything to happen that would give Starfleet any further cause for concern."

"Perish the thought." He glowered back at the Captain.

"There is much I don't understand." The Commander began as her and the Captain headed to the briefing room. "This ship design is only around 10 years old. I was told that when she was built it was considered cutting edge with a projected 25 year period between major refits. Why would they simply scrap her?"

"There were 13 if these ships planned in the initial run." The Captain began. "7 were actually built and only 2 are left, including this one. Every time they've been involved in fleet activities they let the side down. Somehow there's a design flaw, that's why they are left patrolling the edge of the neutral zone."

"The specifications are impressive." She continued with her brow ruffled curiously. "Twin uni-directional Phaser projectors with a full array of normal Phaser points. Twin Photon torpedo tubes, full tactical grid, upgraded sensors, system automation, advanced artificial intelligence computer interface. This ship stands up better than most large cruisers."

"Everything's there." The Captain agreed sadly. "It just doesn't seem to work when you put it all together."

"So the entire class is to be scrapped?" She shook her head dolefully.

"It looks that way." He nodded. "A mistake Starfleet is keen to forget. They're planning new ships based on a totally new design concept, this over-armed vessel belongs to another era."

"You mean the new Miranda?" She asked with interest.

"And the Oberth." He added. "The Oberth will replace virtually all ships of this size once she's in full scale production. She has no standard armaments whatsoever and the sensors grid is so delicate it has to be insulated from the engineering of the ship in a separate pod. The days of fitting twin cannons on the side of a ship are apparently over."

"Personally I think that that may be a good thing." She smiled thinly. "We are supposed to be about the peaceful exploration of space."

"I agree." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "Unfortunately there's a lot of other species out here that aren't about that at all."

"Like the Romulans?" She raised an eyebrow knowingly.

"Like the Romulans." He scowled with barely suppressed malice.

Two metallic frames floated behind the briefing table. Smoked dark glass was suspended within that allowed a ghostly image behind of the invisible alien visitors.

"Begin." The low voice rasped from the refracted image and despite the soft tone it somehow demanded their attention.

"Explain yourself." The Captain leant forward with interest while the Commander regarded the pair with suspicious eyes.

"We are Coo'gral." It told them coldly. "We have come from a future that never existed to a past that will never happen." Captain Franks turned to his first officer with a raised eyebrow. "To explain myself I must reveal much of your future and that is against your own rules."

"That's correct." Commander Crowley nodded.

"Our rules do not tie our hands in the same manner." The alien told her wryly. "I will proceed."

"Wait." The Captain held up his hand for them to stop as he turned to the Commander.

"We are required by Starfleet directives not to have fore-knowledge of our own future." She explained. "Having such knowledge could cause damage to the natural timeline and change the way history unfolds."

"Is it a law, a rule or a guideline?" The Captain narrowed his eyes.

"It's not formally enforced by law." She admitted. The Captain smiled and nodded for the aliens to continue with their story.

"An alien species will attack the Federation in your far distant future." The Coo'gral told them. "In the course of these events time was altered and the future diverted to allow the species to completely occupy then entire galaxy. These events were not meant to come to pass and only did through manipulation of time."

"Who has that kind of power?" Commander Crowley gasped. "Who could take over the entire galaxy?"

"The Borg." They told her firmly.

"Never heard of them." Captain Franks shrugged.

"You won't have yet." The visitor told him. "When their installation was destroyed the temporal opening began to close but several vessels managed to enter before it collapsed entirely."

"You claim that that is how you came to be here?" The Captain crossed his arms over his chest and leant back.

"The vessel we fired on exhibited a form of energy that is inconsistent with this era." The Coo'gral told him. "One of the enemy vessels must have arrived before us and disguised themselves. They have detailed files on the history of this era and could quite easily begin a plan to bring about the history we have witnessed or an even worse one."

"So you're trying to restore history?" The Commander suggested.

"We're trying to ensure that everything proceeds as it was meant to." The alien nodded in agreement.

Commander Bochran rubbed his chin thoughtfully while his officer showed him the projections aboard the confined briefing room of his ship.

"There..." Centurion Churang pointed excitedly to a small flashing dot on the screen of the table as the computer enlarged the image. "The vessel fired on a Federation ship and a patrol scout came to investigate."

"Investigate." The Commander leant back on the wall and stared at his officer. "You're positive that there was no distress call of any kind?"

"None." He assured him with a nod. "The Federation vessel was not sending an electronic identity signature but it was clearly an inferior type. We expected it to begin asking for help immediately. That would have given us a justifiable excuse to enter the neutral zone. No such request was made."

"I agree that this is curious." The Commander acceded. "You are going to have to give me something more before I wilfully ignore the treaty and cross into Federation space."

"There is more." The Centurion grinned. "When the patrol scout arrived the ship fled."

"The attacking ship?" The Commander raised an eyebrow thoughtfully.

"No sir..." He shook his head with a smile fluttering over his lips. "The Federations ship fled."

"That is quite strange." He nodded and looked back at the computer simulation drawn from the sensor data his aging Bird of Prey had collected.

"Stranger still is that the ship fled at a speed that we could not match, nor could the Starfleet scout." Churang added to seal the Commander's interest.

"How is that possible?" The Commander shook his head and frowned deeply.

"We don't know." The officer admitted. "From what we can tell the Starfleet ship doesn't appear to know either."

"Alright..." The Commander stood up straight and took a deep and contemplative breath. "What do you propose?"

"I think we should follow the situation as it unfolds aboard the Starfleet vessel." Churang stood to attention opposite his Commander. "They have taken the attacking vessel aboard and will doubtlessly pursue the Federation ship. We stand a possibility of obtaining a great deal of new technology that could strengthen our entire fleet."

"I see..." The Commander smiled wistfully and turned away. "I know we could use it. The Klingons have been taking pot-shots at us for the last decade. They're nibbling away at our perimeter defences and growing more powerful."

"The Romulan Empire will prevail!" Churang spoke forcefully with utter faith in his words.

"Will we?" The Commander sighed. "We stand on the most advanced vessel in our fleet. A refitted Bird of Prey that's already thirty years old."

"The new Quantum Singularity drive allows us more power than ever before." The Centurion said proudly, slightly confused by the lack of enthusiasm of his commanding officer.

"It's unreliable." He said finally. "It's not fully tested and yet they're cramming an artificial black-hole into the belly of our ships. You won't hear about it through normal channels but of the hundred and twenty vessels outfitted with this new drive three have already been lost due to accidents on board."

"Sir?" The officer's eyes widened in surprise.

"The Klingons are growing in strength and power." The Commander told him. "Their energy facility on Praxis is running at three times its normal level. Production of their battle ships has been stepped up accordingly. They're gearing up for something and their eye seems to be pointing at us. The new drive may be unstable but without it we would be defenceless against an increasingly hostile enemy."

"Well we may learn much from the Federation ship if we could capture it." The Centurion suggested.

"Set course." The Commander agreed. "Run a diagnostic on the cloaking device to check that it's stable. Engage alert status red and inform the crew that in one hour we will cross over into Federation space in violation of treaty."

"Yes Sir."

Tarvor climbed down from the side of the captured alien vessel as he saw the Captain enter the shuttle-bay.

"I hope you have something to report." He called out coldly.

"I'd hate to disappoint a ruthless and aggressive Starfleet officer with emotional issues to work out." The Science officer agreed with a wry grin.

"Your Vulcan behaviour is slipping." Franks told him with a weak smile.

"Well nothing much about this vessel has much to do with pure logic in any case." He told him with a frown. "Firstly we have to accept that this vessel couldn't have been built by the aliens as they are phased out of our material reality."

"Which also begs the question of how they control it." Captain Franks agreed.

"It's more involved than that." He began with a glance at the notes on his pad. "This ship has absolutely none of the things it would need to function. It has no thrusters, no weapons points, no Warp engines. The only details it has are a few markings and holes that don't have any scoring marks so my guess is that they're intakes of some kind."

"How does it manoeuvre without thrusters?" The Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully while he frowned deeply in confusion.

"I don't have the answers you're looking for." Tarvor said sadly. "What I can tell you is that this ship doesn't belong here, in this space and time."

"What do you mean?" The Captain asked, suddenly intrigued.

"No Federation species built this thing." He said simply. "This is years ahead of any technology we understand."

"What would you think if I told you it was from the future?" Captain Franks asked with a grin.

"At this point..." He began with a shrug. "I'd believe you."

Captain Franks sat opposite the aliens over the briefing lounge table. His Commander and Science officer took their place beside him.

"We've been looking over your ship." Tarvor began as his eyes bored into the image of the creature through the smoked glass.

"It is no longer functional." It replied. "We have broken it."

"We must stop the Cardassians." The other alien added impatiently.

"The Cardassians?" Captain Franks turned to the Commander with a raised eyebrow.

"Cardassians." She repeated as she ran the name through the computer. "No First Contact record at this time but long-range probes have been observing them with the hope of initiating contact within a decade."

"From the future." The first Coo'gral began. "They must be stopped before they damage the timeline."

"You must help us, Captain Franks." The second added as it stepped closer to the glass.

"Me?" He shrugged nonchalantly but there was something deeply disturbing about hearing the unearthly creature whisper his name.

"Your future is our past. We can read the pages of tomorrow written three centuries ago." The Coo'gral told him. "Captain Johnathon Franks. Died today in 2273."

"Today!." Tarvor narrowed his eyes accusingly as he glowered at the aliens.

"Stripped of his command he commits suicide during a break from his official debriefing." The alien continued. Commander Crowley glanced over to the stony faced officer as he stared fixedly at their guests, patiently waiting for them to proceed.

"During the final sensor sweep of the perimeter the USS Asimov under the command of First Officer Crowley, encounters a Romulan Bird of Prey and is destroyed. News of this is considered the catalyst for his suicidal actions."

The crew stared in dumbstruck silence. Captain Franks ran his hand over his forehead, wiping away the prickling beads of sweat as he swallowed.

"You are therefore suited to assist us." The second Coo'gral told them.

"Explain that..." The Captain said, his voice hoarse and uneven.

"You make no more impact in history." It told him as if explanation seemed to be redundant. "You are forgotten and relegated to obscurity. Your ship never entered full scale production and was so unimportant it was never even added to the recognition tables of the Federation database."

"What are you asking?" The Commander asked, her face ashen with fear at the thought of leading her first command to the deaths of the entire crew.

"You must help us capture and destroy the Cardassian ship." The alien turned to her to glower at her with its huge and emotionless black eyes.

"If we don't?" The Captain leant forward, his voice back to its authoritative and commanding norm.

"History has been written on that issue." The Coo'gral told him.

"We don't appear to be much of a match for these Cardassians in any case." Tarvor added calmly.

"That can be corrected." The Coo'gral told him.

"Where did the vessel go?" Captain Franks asked weakly as the tumultuous weight of the situation began to bear down on him.

"That's still another strange detail." Tarvor replied with a roll of the eyes. "I tracked the vessel along the rim of the neutral zone and it seems to have entered the Section 2031."

"We can't go after it then." The Commander added, hopeful that the team would at least seek advice from Starfleet before continuing recklessly on their own. "We don't have any treaty rights to explore that area."

"We don't have a lot of things we're going to need if you're serious about going after that ship." Tarvor began with a tired sigh. "From everything I've noted from the sensor logs they're better armed, faster and almost definitely not equipped with a Commander who tirelessly reminds the rest of us of the rules we already know."

"If we go after that ship then we break Federation rules and enter an uncharted region of space with no exploration rights in a small patrol craft." Captain Franks began rhetorically, speaking more to marshal her thoughts than illicit a reply.

"A small patrol craft in poor shape." Tarvor added while the Commander fidgeted nervously beside him.

"And if we don't the vessel will escape altogether." Captain Franks sighed thoughtfully. "And this vessel faces the very real possibility of being lost with all hands less than seven hours from here at the hands of a Romulan battle-ship."

"You're talking about turning Renegade." The Commander retorted in annoyance. "You can't be seriously considering taking this ship into that sector?"

"If we did?" Tarvor turned to her with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

"We'd be guilty of stealing a Federation Starship." She sneered at him after a moment of hesitation.

"The fact is we'd not be in any violation of Federation law by entering into Section 2031." Captain Franks told her what she already knew. "We'd simply be ignoring our orders and would be justified in doing so because the situation has changed since they were issued."

"So we're going to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous?" Tarvor sighed with weary resignation.

"With the added spice of flagrantly disregarding our orders." The Captain grinned openly.

"Sir!" The junior officer frowned suspiciously at the long-range sensor display he'd been monitoring from his station aboard the USS Ronin.

"What is it?" Captain Singh asked as he glanced up from his ruminations of what might lay ahead for his new ship.

"The USS Asimov has vanished." The officer turned to him sheepishly. "We've lost their transponder code. They must have been damaged in some way."

"Or turned it off." The Captain rubbed his chin as a suspicious scowl settled over his features. "What the hell is going on out there?"

 

Part 2 of 3

The chief engineer of the USS Asimov was yet an unusual officer to be in service aboard a Starfleet vessel. It was in no way a lack of ability that had seen his posting to the small and uninspiring vessel or the routine task it seemed destined to perform until her inevitable demise. Certainly he drank too much and was a bawdy character with a big mouth that saw frequent exercise but traits such as those hardly set him apart from other engineers. The reasons for his position aboard the USS Asimov when his service record should have promised him a more celeritous engine room on a more prestigious vessel were his own and he shied away from sharing them with too many of the crew; at least until his fondness for alcohol had loosened his tongue in which case it was more difficult to get him to talk about anything else.

"So there you are." Captain Franks said finally after the short briefing that had been unusual in that he had had virtually nothing to tell him beyond a cursory smattering of what little facts they'd gathered so far.

"No." The Engineer shook his head firmly, closing his eyes against the very idea. "Just no."

"We need to increase our speed if we're going to track this vessel." The Captain told him firmly, all signs of this being a two sided conversation vanishing to be replaced with demands that the engineer would have to fulfil if it meant breaking every last one of the laws of physics and doing so while wearing a pink dress held on with rusty nails.

"You're asking me to go faster than a heavy cruiser like the Constitution or the Federation class." The Engineer pushed the specifications that had been encoded on a Pad away from him in disgust that was barely concealed on his face.

"Can you do it, Mr. Murfett?" The Captain asked coldly.

"Yes." He shrugged with a wide gesture of annoyance that his efficiency as a professional was being called into question. "I can do it for about 9 seconds. After that the core will rupture, the coils will disintegrate, magnetic cohesion will die away from the plasma injectors and my heart will explode from excess stress. In short, there's no way we can go that fast and tell anybody but Saint Peter about it."

"Well then you have no choice." The Captain leant back from the desk to sink into the comfort of his chair, his decision made and the Engineer's made for him.

"If a group of engineering specialists came to my engine room telling me how to make improvements they'd all be walking out crooked with a hyper-spanner sticking out of the lower end of their uniforms." He told the Captain as his arms folded defiantly over his puffed chest.

"We'll have no more of that." The Captain pointed directly at him as he sprung forward angrily and delivered a sharp rebuke.

"Sorry." He acceded weakly as his eye sunk to the floor and his arms began to untie themselves. "...but you can imagine how I feel."

"I do." The Captain said more calmly in agreement.

"I worked on the design team that built this ship." The engineer began wistfully. "We put her together thinking we were building the future of Starfleet. Everything looked perfect as she fell together. On her trials she proved excellent but every time they've been in heavy combat they've let the side down badly."

"I know." The Captain told him with a sigh. "They posted you to my ship to observe one in action and you still never found anything wrong."

"I didn't get stuck here." He sat up suddenly, his eyes widening as he spoke. "I wanted to stay until I found whatever was wrong."

"I know." The Captain nodded. "We all respect you for that."

"And now you tell me this..." He began somewhat crestfallen. "Some invisible aliens can show me how to increase our speed in some way I've never even though of. To say it dents my professional pride is a bit of an understatement."

"Right..." The Captain began forcefully. "Let's put a few things straight. You will never meet these aliens. I'm still very much hedging my bets at this point and I'm not intending to allow them the run of my ship. Tarvor will take all their specifications and run complete diagnostics with your help before any new technology is introduced to the ship."

"I suppose I have no choice?" He grumbled thinly and with little resolution.

"Think of it this way..." The Captain told him with a wry grin. "When we hand this vessel back to Starfleet to be scrapped they may well find that we've found and fixed whatever problem has dogged the design and we've made her twice as fast as anything they're planning."

"And I'd be the man who did it?" The engineer could scarcely conceal the childlike enthusiasm that was beginning to broil away inside him as the suggestion took hold.

Captain Franks smiled and began tapping away at his terminal. "Don't you have work to do?" He winked at Mr. Murfett playfully.

"I'm not at all happy with this." Commander Crowley grumbled as the viewer charted the blurred stars as they flashed past the ship.

"What would make you happy?" Tarvor asked flippantly with a voice laced with sarcasm.

"A promotion." She told him stoically. "Preferably one that takes me off this ship or at least away from you."

"We all want that for you." He told her coldly. "But I'm fairly sure that a promotion isn't what I'm tracking in the lateral sensors." He raised an eyebrow curiously. "In fact I'm certain it's more bad news."

"What?" She gasped, leaping up from the Captain's chair she was watching over in his absence from the bridge.

"Quantum distortions at our aft." He told her with an irritating note of calmness. "This ship may have her full share of demons nipping at her tail but she's also packing the very latest and most sensitive equipment ever designed to track cloaked vessels."

"Romulans?" She asked, regaining her composure.

"Yes." He said with a note of distinct uncertainty. "The Klingon cloaking device is about as sophisticated as draping a black cloth over their vessels with white blobs painted on. This isn't just some charged graviton-wave, this is a multi-spectral stealth field. Very clever technology indeed. The Klingons aren't smart enough to have built it and whoever did would not be stupid enough to have let them steal it."

"So what do we do?" She ran her fingers through her hair as she struggled to come up with a tactic.

"Nothing." He told her firmly. "While they're tracking us they're not firing on us. They're still a long way off and don't know we've seen them. For now that's the only advantage we have."

"I'll take any advantage I can get." She frowned thoughtfully.

"There is one thing that troubles me." Tarvor rubbed his chin and stepped closer to the Commander. He lowered his voice before continuing so the others wouldn't hear. "Remember our briefing with the Coo'gral?"

"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes and swallowed a lungful of air nervously for indeed she did remember very clearly.

"They told us that only a few days from now this ship would be destroyed by a Romulan Bird of Prey while close to this area." He reminded her. "This not only adds credence to their story but puts us in a position that now we are helplessly relying on their assistance."

"I don't understand." She grimaced at the possibility.

"When this ship encounters that vessel it is destined to be destroyed by it." He told her. "We now have proof that the vessel they described was indeed in the area and observing us. We've also stepped up the schedule and are being shadowed by a vessel that appears to harbour hostile intent. They are offering upgrades to our vessel without which we have almost no hope of surviving."

Captain Singh sat in contemplative silence in his office at the rear of the bridge aboard his upgraded Miranda class vessel. A powerful ship that had been built with a sole purpose, to quell opposition to the large-scale production of a new ship loaded with new technology and design. With that in mind the vessel was built to survive in any hostile environment and was equal to just about anything the Federation had previously encountered. He was still troubled by the decision to send his vessel to assist an already proven ship on a routine matter. Something simply didn't add up.

"Sir." Lieutenant Tavish said softly to catch his attention. "I have the report you requested."

"Excellent." He turned from the view port with a smile. "Paraphrase it please."

"There is no sign of the USS Asimov." He began with a deep breath. "She has somehow deactivated her transponder. Their course was clearly designed to be difficult for us to track. The Captain is well versed in the art of stealth tactics."

"Yes he is." The Captain smiled darkly, an expression that held no humour.

"Something else, Sir." The young officer reported politely. "The communications department have monitored the subspace traffic as you requested."

"What did you find?" The Captains eyes flicked upwards to meet his and the two locked together.

"Another vessel was due to rendezvous with the Asimov but was recalled." Lieutenant Tavish frowned as if he found that highly curious. "The USS Polaris was a light federation transport ship. No armaments and only capable of approximately Warp 3."

"A courier?" The Captain frowned.

"I would imagine so but there appears no record of her mission." He nodded in agreement.

"And then a light Warp-able shuttlecraft is recalled and in her place a warship is sent to assist." The Captain rubbed his chin as he spoke rhetorically, his thoughts tumbling from his mouth. "As if whatever has happened has alarmed Starfleet and almost certainly has happened unexpectedly."

"Sir?" The Lieutenant shrugged lightly.

"Never mind, Mr. Tavish." The Captain smiled. "Thank you. That will be all."

"I have some fascinating new wrinkles to add to your engines, Mr. Murfett." Tarvor announced loudly as he stepped into the larger than usual engineering room waving a pad loaded with data to be converted into additional performance once fully integrated into the engines.

"I've already made my position clear." He crossed his arms and glowered in annoyance at the science officer. "I'm doing this because I have a vague suspicion I'll be chucked in the brig if I refuse."

"You're loving this." Tarvor regarded him suspiciously. "We're going to break some speed records and all the upgrades will have your name on them."

"I know." He nodded wearily. "I imagine the big explosion that signals the end of the ship will have my name on it as well."

"Nobody expects this to end badly..." Tarvor said with an utterly neutral expression. "...more than I do."

"What have you got for me?" The Engineer rubbed his temples in exasperation while resolving himself to their fate.

"The Warp-core." Tarvor began rhetorically. "It's a radial injection unit?"

"Of course." Mr. Murfett sneered at him. "This ship is far too short to install a straight linear injector that would have any more power than a Phaser cell. All ships of this size have a similar arrangement from the Vulcan warp-sled to the Saladin destroyer."

"Now the radial system works by having a ring loaded with a magnetic field of radiation." Tarvor began. "Thirty small injectors feed it instead of a longer single one and the field tricks the reactor core into thinking it's a long steady stream by pulsing the field."

"Indeed." The engineer stifled his lack of enthusiasm and waited for the scientist to say something interesting.

"There is a computer-controlled principal for using many fields pulsing together at different frequencies." Tarvor said excitedly. "The Coo'gral called it multi-phased differential oscillation or something." He took a second to glance at his notes. "Anyway. If we install their software instead of pulsing each injector once we can pulse them all at the same time and increase the efficiency and output exponentially."

"All that power has gone to your head." The engineer told him with a happy smirk of superiority. "If we fed that into our Warp coils they'd just feed it straight back up to us and the core would explode."

"No." He grinned back. "Not if we install this..." He held up the schematics for what he was suggesting."

"What the hell..?" Mr. Murfett dug his fists into his sides.

"It's called Trans-spatial Warp." Tarvor's eyes widened in excitement as he spoke. "Apparently it will be experimented on soon by Starfleet engineers and in service shortly after. They'll even have to rescale the Warp chart to accommodate the improvements. According to my calculation it will let us make warp 9 by their new scale. That would make us the fastest ship in the fleet."

"Great." The engineer grimaced as he snatched the pad with a great deal more enthusiasm than was apparent through his indifferent façade. "We'll be the fastest men in the morgue."

"If this goes wrong then the there won't be enough of any of us left to concern the facilities of the morgue." Tarvor corrected dryly. "At least a space burial will be arranged without undue fuss."

Captain Franks entered the bridge with his usual apparent lack of concern for the activity going on around him, caught up as he usually was in his private thoughts. "My office." He said with a flourish towards the Commander who stood in silence while she waited for his instructions.

"Sit down." He told her as the pair stepped into the privacy of his secluded chamber. She complied; still remaining in silence, her eyes fixed on him while she remained preoccupied with thoughts of her own.

"We need to talk." He told her as he knotted his fingers together in front of his face as if doing so helped him to focus his attention.

"Yes." She agreed with barely a flutter of emotions showing through her expression of stoic formality.

"We're in pursuit of the Federation vessel that is almost definitely not what it appeared to be." He began, his voice low as he led her into the conversation. "In a few hours the modifications will be set into the computer and we may be able to match their speed. So far we've done nothing wrong but switch off out subspace transponder to stop Starfleet from tracking us."

"And ignore your orders to surrender the vessel to my command." She reminded him with a sarcastic lilt to her tone.

"The situation has changed." He told her as his eyes narrowed. "We're well within our remit."

"Yes Sir." She nodded. "I'm well aware of that."

"So where do we stand?" He leant back in the chair, his eyes still fixed on her gaze. "You and I?"

"You mean if you continue to ignore the instructions from our superior officers?" She raised an eyebrow while her lips curled into a sneer.

"If our guests are telling the truth then this ship will have been destroyed in a few more hours." He told her mockingly. "Our choices may be limited."

"May I ask a question?" She sighed, averting her eyes from his. He nodded for her to continue. "Permission to speak freely?"

"On this ship I'd always rather hear what you're thinking than what you think I want to hear." He told her with a slow and calculated nod.

"What is your intention?" She asked coldly. "Do you intend to continue flouting Starfleet regulations and take this ship into uncharted space on the word of a pair of unknown aliens? Are you doing all of this to hang on to this ship?"

"I'm a Starfleet officer." He told her with a wry grin beginning to take his expression. "That doesn't mean I always follow the letter of the law but I always follow the spirit. I wouldn't risk the lives of my crew unless I thought the risks were worth taking. From the evidence I've seen I can perceive a very real possibility that an aggressive alien species has come here with knowledge and technology from the future. Preserving our timeline may well require the sacrifice of this ship and once I'm certain of the situation then I would be willing to make that decision once I have the confidence in the righteousness of that action."

"But then you have nothing to lose." She glowered at him from under her lowered brow. "You're due to kill yourself aboard a transport ship this morning on your way back home."

Captain Franks glared back with undisguised malice while his temper broiled away within him. "Maybe." He agreed. "To tell you the truth I can't for a second imagine how I could ever take that kind of action and that in itself makes me question the validity of the information we've been given."

"And yet here we are." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"So where do you stand?" He asked bluntly, growing impatient with the conversation entirely.

"I respect the chain of command." She told him angrily.

"So I can rely on you?" He asked her.

A curt nod was her only reply. "Good." The Captain smiled darkly. "I can replace you easily but we have enough odds against us right now. There's nobody else aboard as qualified to do your job."

"Very reassuring." She sneered. "And if there was?"

"Then maybe we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"They're at Space-Warp factor, level 28." The Romulan Commander noted as the Federation Starship they were tailing loomed large in the viewer at the fore of his bridge. "We can match them?"

"Yes." His first officer agreed hesitantly. "We have sufficient power to match their speed for another four hours. If they increase their level by three points then we would have to drop our cloaking field to draw the additional power."

"Unacceptable." The Commander shook his head dismissively. "If we don't remain concealed we could provoke a war. Further they'd call for assistance and while a match to a small scout we'd fare badly against a heavy cruiser."

"From what you say we're not in a position in which it would be wise to provoke the Federation unduly." He said as he stepped away from the instruments to join his commanding officer in the narrow briefing room.

"Quite." He nodded grimly. "Do they show any sign of increasing their Warp factor?"

"They have remained constant." He shook his head firmly. "We're monitoring them as closely as we're able."

"Where are they heading?" The Commander looked up with a frown. "Am I right in assuming the worst?"

"Yes sir." The first officer replied grimly. "I'm rather afraid that you are. They do appear to be heading into the maelstrom region."

"Then we'll follow." The Commander said bravely as if the very notion of not doing so was alien to him.

"Sir?" He asked with a frown.

"We follow." The Commander told him firmly with a look of determination that quelled any further discussion on the matter.

"How's it going?" Captain Franks asked as the small platform lowered itself effortlessly onto the deck of the engineering heart of his small ship.

"Fantastic." Tarvor clapped his hands together excitedly as he turned to greet him. "The software is fully installed and all diagnostics show that it runs perfectly with our system."

"I'm still not happy." Chief Engineer Murfett told them both with a sour expression of indignation.

"He's never happy unless he's complaining." Tarvor sighed at him. "Consequently he's probably in whatever his twisted concept of heaven happens to be."

"I can't be." Murfett told him with a smirk. "You're here and all your organs are on the inside. Therefore it can't be my vision of heaven."

"It can't be mine. Mine would smell better." Tarvor told him sarcastically. "I can assure you of that."

"If we could dispense with the foreplay." Captain Franks told them sternly. "I'd like someone to tell me in words of two syllables or less what the status of my ship is."

"If this works then we are now the fastest ship in the fleet and will be for another 45 years." The engineer began with a hesitant lack of enthusiasm. "If it doesn't then the USS Asimov will join her classmates in the annuls of ambiguity and the crew's families are all going to be receiving letters from Starfleet command telling them how sorry they are."

"They may be receiving them anyway if this doesn't work." The Captain told him with a shrug. "Consequently we may as well proceed."

"I'd like to remind the Captain that there's some dangerously unknown alien programs running through the ship's software." The engineer huffed his indignation. "I doubt we can even begin to predict how this might effect the systems."

"The food might be edible? The intercom might not interrupt the command channel with hover-ball results from Earth any more? The emergency ejection panels might no longer eject themselves unless there really were an emergency?" Tarvor groaned wearily. "He hasn't stopped moaning about the possible repercussions since I got here. I'd have pinched his neck if I'd ever mastered the art of doing so."

"We have a Romulan battleship running silently behind us." The Captain told them. "It doesn't take much to predict what will happen if they decide to attack us. We already know."

"So your decision is made?" Tarvor's eyes glinted as he gestured towards an access button that would release the programs into the main heart of the ships computer.

"Do it." He told them.

"Wait..." The Romulan officer announced with a smirk. "Commander, I believe I've found something in which you may be interested."

"From you expression it appears this news falls within the parameters of good fortune." The Commander matched his first officer's enthusiasm with a warm grin.

"Oh yes, sir." He nodded with obvious relish. "I know very little about Starfleet vessels from an aesthetic viewpoint."

"Me neither." The Commander agreed with a cursory glance at their prey in the viewer. "Ugly ships indeed. Covered with a thick grey laminate, twin gawky engine pods with bright glowing tips. They look like clowns rampaging through space with no guidance from an intelligence greater than that of a small animal."

"Yes, Sir." He agreed with a happy nod as he chuckled to himself. "I've found that plays well for us."

"I'm always keen to hear good news." The Romulan Commander stood straight in readiness. "I'm all ears."

"That ship, Sir." He said. "It's a Federation Adams class Starship."

"So?" The Commander frowned suddenly. His expression instantly melted and his lips began tracing upwards. "Oh." He smiled broadly. "Yes, that is rather good news, isn't it?"

"Sir..." A voice cut into their blunted revelry with a note of urgency. The pair turned to the control room as a wild-eyed officer darted into the briefing room in a fragrant disregard for protocol.

"What is it?" The Commander demanded urgently.

"The ship." He reported grimly in near panic. "It's vanished from our sensors."

"Warp 13 and still increasing." The engineer allowed himself a smile as his instruments told him everything he needed to know and more than he'd ever dreamed. "So much for the Enterprise. This is the ship that everyone is going to remember."

"Somehow I doubt that." Tarvor cast a knowing glance to his Captain as the three watched the readouts as the ship increased steadily in speed, ripping through the records as she went.

"Stress?" Captain Franks asked, rolling back on his heels in relief.

"I'm fine." The engineer told him with a grin.

"I meant the ship, Mr. Murfett." The Captain smiled and shook his head at his chief. "How is she holding up?"

"Better than us." Tarvor interjected. "According to the new Warp scale we're at warp 7.5 now and increasing. No unusual pressure on the ship. She's well capable of increasing the Warp factor still further."

"How fast can she go?" The Captain smiled broadly, his pride in the ship returning and reminding him of the first day he'd stepped aboard. He'd been shown to the bridge by a full Admiral who had told him all about his new posting. After the class ship she was the first ever produced and all the more special for that. A new era in Starship design principals, certainly she was small but she was potent. Capable of doing anything a cruiser could manage with the potential to do a lot of things that one couldn't. It had been a long time before anyone doubted those words and the Captain still remembered them every morning that he stepped onto his bridge on board his ship, albeit more dimly with the passing of the years. She had yet to let him down, yet to perform less than her absolute best when he called of her. The class may have her demons but his ship had him watching over her and the pairing overcame his own problems, hers or any other that fate may deal them.

"Warp 9." Engineer Murfett said with obvious relish. "That's enough. I'm going to hold her here for now. We may have power over the engines but I still don't know the deflector or sensors are up to this kind of speed."

"I bow to your discretion." The Captain smiled at him, his thoughts still elsewhere as the feelings returned. Inside he felt no different than the day he'd taken command, the first day he'd stepped aboard, still slightly in awe of his first Command posting. All else was washed away by the pride that returned to his heart. His ship was again everything she was meant to be and all he knew she was capable of being.

"Nothing." The Engineer shook his head as a happy smile flashed over his lips. "Not a damn discrepancy anywhere."

"I told you." Tarvor shrugged. "Computers these days are slightly more reliable than the sodden opinion of a drunken Irish engineer."

"I'm glad your tinkering worked." Murfett smirked at the science officer.

"Really?" He asked suspiciously, his eyebrows plunging into a deep frown.

"Now I don't need you in my engine room." He told him angrily. "Get up to your own deck and leave us working men alone to get on with doing things properly."

"I think the engineer has things well in hand." The Captain smiled, leading him to the platform that would take them to the bridge. "One thing." He said with a raised hand that plunged the centre into silence.

"Sir?"

"Very well done." Captain Franks said with an inflated chest. "No matter what happens I want you to both know that you have cause to be very proud of what you've done here today."

"What can you tell us about yourself?" The Doctor sat up straight and ignored the computer that seemed unable to offer much assistance in any case. "You have clearly evolved quite unusual characteristics."

"Evolution exists only socially and is a product of successive change." It replied cordially. "As our enemies grew in power our kind believed it wise to begin modifying ourselves to remain unseen as best we could."

"So the fact that you're invisible is technology?" The Doctor nodded as he had expected as much.

"We are a species unconcerned with the physical aspect of our being." It began by way of explanation. "We learnt to phase ourselves out of the physical universe to the point where other races would not experience our presence. We learnt to evolve that technology into a complex computer system stored inside a protein chain and thus were able to incorporate it into our DNA."

"That's astonishing." The Doctor gasped, his eyebrows raising incredulously as he began to consider the possibilities of such a thing.

"It was thousands of years before." The aliens began. "A technology began to develop to allow other races to interact with us more recently. Indeed our vessel and the screens were not manufactured by ourselves."

"You didn't build them?" The nurse frowned.

"We would have little interest in finding ways around a condition that serves our ends well." The alien spoke, the nuances of its expression lost in the blurriness of the screen. "Other species have interests in our technology. When enemies of all began to rise we considered such exchanges to be in the interests of all. We allowed races such as yourselves to develop the ability to speak with us."

"Your ship..." The Doctor frowned. "Who built it for you?"

"You did." The Coo'gral said softly.

"The Federation?" The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Nearly two centuries from here." It agreed with a nod. "But what you have seen is not our ship."

Commander Crowley relinquished her seat at the heart of the bridge as the Captain entered through the turbolift door.

"Do you have any idea how fast we're going?" She snapped at him, her dubious rank and position in the team forgotten for the moment, her annoyance washing her restraint aside and making her brave.

"For the sake of argument let's assume I do." He told her with a wry smirk of approval.

"We're exceeding safety margins by over 500 percent." She grumbled. "There's no way this ship can cope."

"Indeed." Tarvor smiled broadly. "We're keeping it down while the engineer studies the various sub-systems. We can increase to full speed later on if his report is favourable."

"What?" She turned accusingly to the Captain. "I don't know where to begin."

"At the end will do very nicely." He told her flatly as he took his seat at the centre. "Tarvor, any sign of them?"

"No Romulans within sensor range." He shook his head happily. "I wonder what they're thinking? They won't believe the speed, they're probably thinking we cloaked."

"Cloaked?" The Commander stabbed her balled fists into her sides angrily. "We're forbidden to develop cloaking technology as well you know."

"In for a penny..." Captain Franks told her, wagging his index finger playfully.

"I don't believe that even you would consider installing a cloaking device." She said sternly.

"Tarvor?" He turned to his science officer.

"Phaser upgrades include a cohesive containment field to increase destructive photon yield, Photon torpedo load can be contained 20% more efficiently with the new magnetic cohesion parameters, shields increased 345% in efficiency and transporter range increased by three times." Tarvor reported. "Nothing about cloaking. I could ask?"

"That's fine." The Captain grinned to his first officer. "We'll make do without...for now!"

"I'm very happy with the upgrades to the ship." The Captain began thoughtfully as he gazed into an old picture hung on the spartan metal wall of his office. It depicted his ship, the USS Asimov surrounded by an intricate lacework of scaffold beams. She was unfinished, incomplete and helpless, as if held in the protective womb of her mother until grown to maturity and ready to survive on her own in a sometimes dangerous galaxy.

"As well you should be." Tarvor nodded in agreement. "That isn't why I'm here though, is it?"

"No." The Captain shook his head and took on a grim expression. "I wanted to discuss the other matter."

Tarvor's expression darkened at the very mention of such a thing. His back stiffened and he seemed to roll back on the balls of his feet. "I see."

"These aliens." Captain Franks sighed, his eyes closing reflexively as he spoke. "How do we hurt them if we should be called upon to do so?"

"So you still don't entirely trust them?" Tarvor asked, his voice lowered respectfully of the magnitude of the subject matter.

"I don't." The Captain admitted. "Do you?"

"Their assistance in upgrading our systems has transformed this vessel." Tarvor stepped closer to his friend as the spoke. "I admit that in no way does their help imply an honest revelation of their underlying motivation. They have given us open access to their technology and don't appear to be hiding anything or intent on keeping anything back."

"But still they're guiding us into a confrontation with a hostile enemy about which we know practically nothing." The Captain leant on his desk, gesturing forcefully with his free hand. "They have only given us what we need to help them."

"I agree." The science officer nodded. "If you want an opinion based on the facts as I see them then I can give you one."

"Please..." The Captain allowed him to continue.

"Their ship was not built here by any species we've encountered but it did appear in a very well monitored area of space with no warning. The vessel it was engaged with was also capable of speeds that mean it cannot be what it appeared. Their explanation makes a lot of sense although other explanations may also. For now I tend to accept their word as I have no contrary evidence or other reason to doubt it." Tarvor huffed indignantly. "I certainly see no reason to consider them dangerous."

"I need to know how to stop them." The Captain insisted. "For all we know the ship we're after could also be full of similar beings and the total destruction of their ship might not even harm them. I need to know we have a working defence."

"So you don't trust them?" He sighed, his palms raised upwards.

"Can you honestly see me committing suicide?" The Captain scoffed at the very suggestion. "That in itself make me doubt everything else they've said."

"Do you want an honest answer?" Tarvor folded his arms over his chest and began tapping his foot impatiently. The Captain nodded and furrowed his brow, bracing himself for an opinion he feared might not be entirely what he had wanted to hear.

"I can indeed imagine you taking such action." He began coldly. "You are an aggressive and hostile man, you've never flinched to command the use of deadly force when the need has arisen and in your position nor should you. 10 years ago you stepped onto the bridge of this vessel as her new master with the firm belief that doing so was an honour. As the class has shown herself to be somewhat lacking, your assignments have become gradually worse until the ship is the subject of the scorn of high-ranking officers and demands are made to have her scrapped. I have observed how personally you take this, how quick you are to jump to the defence of your ship as if any sleight is spoken against you yourself. In the years you've served you have become increasingly isolated from your family and even your friends and fellow crew. You have now been diagnosed with a stress disorder and Starfleet is aware of that. As if that isn't enough you have received orders to hand your ship over to an inexperienced officer and return to HQ for debriefing. I can well imagine that that chain of events could lead to a scenario like the Coo'gral have described."

"I see." The Captain hung his head while his mind raced. "You believe them?"

"As I said..." Tarvor began with a sigh. "I see no reason not to."

The USS Ronin dropped from Warp and began the business of scanning the region as her impulse engines carried her sweeping hull around the area in which she had been sent to rendezvous with Captain Franks' vessel.

"No sign of the USS Asimov on long range sensors." The young Ensign reported with a note of surprise on his voice.

"I never thought for a moment that there would be." The Captain frowned darkly. His mind churned as he glowered into the emptiness of space before them in the viewer. The pulsating lights at the bottom distracted his attention momentarily as his thoughts languished on memories of his friend.

"You know him well?" The Commander asked, her voice an interruption to his ruminations.

He nodded and stood up from his seat as he huffed a deep breath and smoothed the wrinkles from his uniform. "We were friends." He began hesitantly, still wanting only to believe the very best. "We were aboard the USS Pagoda together. He was directly under my supervision while I was serving as Commander."

"I see." She smiled a gesture of encouragement.

"He was a resourceful officer." The Captain smiled warmly. "He has a quick mind and a strength you rarely find. He took responsibility to heart and was a natural leader. It was unfortunate for him that he was assigned to that ship and not a Constitution class vessel."

"The USS Asimov?" The Commander shrugged her ignorance.

"Only a few are left now." He nodded. "Whenever they were engaged in fleet combat they let themselves down badly, often causing damage and destruction to other vessels."

"I see." She nodded.

"It was just like John to take command of a ship like that." The Captain began rhetorically. "He was always one to take a gamble. When they offered him that ship he would have relished the challenge of a new vessel over some proven technology."

"You like him a lot." She said finally with a supportive tone.

"More than that." He frowned again. "I respect him."

"Backup!" Commander Bochrane shouted angrily as his patience slipped and his temper came to the fore. "We need backup."

"Sir." His first officer nodded in agreement. "There are two other ships within range. They are reluctant to violate treaty in order to join us in Federation space."

"Remind them that if they don't come over here as quickly as possible then where they are could soon be Federation space and the Empire will be little more than a memory held by Romulan slaves." The Commander told him coldly, his eyes still glowering at the empty space before them where the vessel they had been trailing had previously been.

"According to my data..." An officer stood up to offer some explanation. "I believe that the vessel increased in velocity to such a degree that it disappeared off of our sensors in less than three seconds."

"That's impossible." The first officer scolded harshly.

"We saw it with our own eyes." The Commander told him through gritted teeth. "Their absence appears to prove that we have witnessed the impossible."

"Sir." He straightened up from his console with a smile. "The other ships have agreed to join us."

The Commander nodded in relief. "Instruct one to return to the co-ordinates from which the Federation ship originated. The other can join us in the pursuit, forward it the details and instruct it to assist us."

"I have managed to locate an ion-trail." The Science officer of the USS Ronin said with a shake of the head that did little to inspire the enthusiasm of the Captain. "It's very faint but the direction it's heading in suggests they were on their way to an uninhabited region at the very edge of the Federation exploration treaty zone."

"Why would they go there?" The Captain frowned as the image appeared on the viewer of a navigational schematic. "They secured the alien vessel and then headed away from the area using stealth techniques to hide their trail?"

"Indeed." The Commander agreed as her balled fists came to rest at her hips. "It makes no sense."

"The ion-trail is very vague." He reported. "If they changed course more than once then the data is virtually useless. If they continued in a straight line then we can estimate where they may have been heading."

"Section 2031?" The Commander frowned. "Feasibly it would be a good place to hide."

"Yes..." The Captain rubbed his temples wearily. "But hide from what?"

"Section 2031 is an unusual region." The Science officer began. "It's outside of Federation space and has yet to be thoroughly explored but there are odd electro-magnetic properties within that affect navigation."

"There are stories of dozens of ships going missing in there." The Commander lowered her voice as if the subject disturbed her.

"There would be if the conditions cause problems for ships attempting to pass through." The Captain reminded her bluntly.

"But there are rumours." She grimaced more openly.

"I've heard of them." He shook his head despondently. "It would make sense for the USS Asimov to head there if she intended to hide."

"Or if they were in pursuit of someone else who intended to hide." The Commander's lips fluttered upwards and her eyes brightened as she made the suggestion.

"Sir!" A voice called out from the side of the bridge. "We're receiving a message from a Starfleet vessel."

"Confirmed." The science officer operated the sensor controls and locked them on a vessel approaching them. "There is a ship heading this way. Starfleet registry, NCC-1791. The USS Pagoda."

"They're ordering us to withdraw." The communications officer reported with a frown.

"I'm detecting something..." Tarvor sat up straight suddenly at his science station as he monitored a vessel ahead.

"The ship?" Captain Franks turned to face him expectantly with optimistic relish on his voice.

"Spacematic transport vessel." The Commander told him as she ran the vessels details through the files. The same type as that which was attacking the Coo'gral."

"Then I think it's a safe bet that it's the same ship." The Captain smirked to himself as his attention flicked back to the viewer.

"Combat mode?" Lieutenant Sneddon asked hopefully, his finger hovering above the controls to bring the Phaser banks to readiness and arm the torpedoes.

"I think so, Mr. Sneddon." The Captain nodded. "Time to intercept?"

"At this relative velocity less than two minutes." Tarvor warned. "I'm going to have to adjust the long range sensors somewhat to cope with our new abilities."

The Captain hoisted himself from the chair and turned to his crew. "I want them alive." He began sternly. Spacematic vessels shouldn't give us too many problems, even if heavily upgraded and armed. I want to disarm and disable it if necessary. So far it has stopped short of firing on us so we're going to engage it with the assumption that it is a citizen of the Federation and only act to defend ourselves if absolutely no other option is available."

"Understood." Lieutenant Sneddon agreed as if somewhat disappointed.

"My uncle operated a Spacematic vessel for three years." The Commander added. "They have a weakness in the magnetic field generator at the rear. It stops waste plasma from being sucked in by the ramscoops at Warp. If it fails for any reason the engines go into automatic shutdown, even a relatively low powered strike should be adequate."

"Good work, Commander Crowley." The Captain smiled at her warmly for the first time, possibly ever.

"I think I can manage that." Lieutenant Sneddon agreed as he set the weapons output low enough to cause little damage to the other vessel.

"We're within hailing range." Tarvor told the Captain as he opened a channel, knowing instinctively the Captain's wishes from the familiarity grown from many years of service together.

"This is Captain Franks of the Federation Starship, USS Asimov." He began with authority. "I formally request you to secure from Warp immediately."

"They heard us..." Tarvor nodded. "No incoming reply. I think you failed to impress them."

The Captain took a deep breath and stepped forwards to the viewer as the tiny image of the ship began to swim into view before them. "Secure from Warp immediately or we will be forced to take action to make you." He said coldly in a voice that left little doubt as to his sincerity.

"May I remind you that Federation law would not permit us to fire on a civilian vessel that has not initiated violent action towards us?" Commander Crowley noted from her console. The Captain spun around to scowl menacingly at her. "There is no law preventing us from overtaking the ship and dragging it out of Warp with a tractor beam."

"I could do that." Tarvor grinned. "If we locked out two ships together and inverted our own Warp field we could cancel out theirs and both ships would safely drop back into normal space."

"It's that or a torpedo..." Lieutenant Sneddon suggested whimsically.

"Do it." The Captain nodded.

The USS Asimov flashed past the commercial ship that held her course blindly as if ignoring the Starfleet vessel. As she drifted past the small craft the tractor beam emitter mounted on her stern came into play and locked onto the little ship with a flickering beam of light.

"They're dropping from Warp." Tarvor warned. "I'm matching their velocity..."

"Lock Phasers." The Captain growled as he pointed to his tactical officer. "Open a channel to that ship."

"Open." Tarvor nodded as he began a more detailed scan as the two vessels dropped into normal space, the stars melting back into silvery points of light before them.

Suddenly the view screen lit up as the vessel fired a volley of pulsating blue bolts of energy. A conduit exploded and the bridge was momentarily plunged into shocked anarchy.

"Return fire!" Captain Franks barked out above the melee as the emergency equipment began dealing with the damage. He watched expectantly as the seconds dragged by. Noise filled the bridge as information panels screamed their warnings, smoke billowed from damaged banks of controls and his crew dashed about around him. He alone was aloof, he detached himself from the reality and focused only on his mission, all else fell from his attention as he focused solely on his goal. With relief he saw a blue bolt of Phaser energy lick out from the viewer. The Spacematic vessel banked away as the beam lit up her shields.

"Their weapons are off the scale." Tarvor cried out. "They've got power I wouldn't even want to guess at."

"Torpedoes." The Captain ordered as a flaming trio of missiles flashed out of the launchers in the vessels nose. The crew seemed to freeze as the viewer tracked the three flaming red bolts streaking towards the small ship. Each erupted on the shields of the craft, delivering their energy as intended. The Spacematic began to move away.

"Follow them." The Captain pointed to the craft. "Don't let them get away again."

"We can't." Tarvor brought his fist crashing down on the readout in frustration. "Propulsion is offline."

The Captain's temper began to rise, his chest pounded with fury as he felt the almost impossible urge to lash out. He turned back to the viewer as the little vessel vanished in a flash, returning to Warp.

"Track them!" He ordered coldly. "I don't care where they go, I want them tracked."

"Engineering here." A voice called out over the internal comm system.

"Franks!" The Captain replied, his fingers pressing down unreasonably hard on the controls at the edge of chair.

"We overloaded the modifications." The Engineer explained. "We didn't take much damage. The energy they hit us with just over powered our systems. I can get us underway in about five minutes."

"You have two." The Captain growled at him, his attention still largely locked on the viewer to where his adversary had vanished. The engineer knew better than to comment further when he knew he would disappoint him while the Captain was in a poor mood.

"Systems are coming back online." The Commander reported. "Shields are back up to 80%. Impulse and main fusion reactors are returning to normal." She paused momentarily. "Whatever passes for normal aboard this ship."

"What did they hit us with?" Franks turned to his science officer demanding some explanation.

"A wet fish for all I know." Tarvor admitted with a shrug. "All I can tell you at this point is that it was neither a Phaser nor was it a Disruptor of any kind."

"More questions..." He scowled.

Captain Singh stood quietly at the window of his quarters, staring out into space.

"You were right." Commander Montgomery shook her head while a troubled frown settled on her face. "How did you know?"

"Something is very wrong." The Captain turned to face her with a weak smile. "I just guessed, no more than that."

"So according to Starfleet files the USS Pagoda is under permanent assignment to Starfleet intelligence and has been for three years." She reviewed the data. "Their instructions to us have been confirmed. We're to withdraw from the area immediately."

"This alien vessel must have really got Starfleet brass scared." The Captain suggested thoughtfully.

"What could be so special about it?" She shook her head. "From the information I've seen I'd be intrigued but little more. Over the years we've encountered hundreds of species with wildly diverse cultures and technology. Why would this little ship excite them so much?"

"I wish I had an answer to that." The Captain told her earnestly.

"You do realise, Sir, that we do have to follow these orders." She began with a wry grin.

"I'm well aware of that, Commander." He scowled at her.

"The orders only require us to leave the area." She reminded him suggestively. "There is no stipulation as to where we're intended to go."

The Captain's eyebrow raised above his left eye as he began to realise what she was hinting at.

"All I'm saying, Sir is that we already have a lead to follow and it does take us away from the area." She told him with a sigh. "If we were to head away on that path we would indeed be following our instructions to the letter."

"I like you, Commander." The Captain told her, leaning back in his chair as he saw her in a totally fresh perspective.

"Should I arrange for us to leave, Sir?" She asked with a smile.

"Why don't you do that?" He nodded. "I think I can trust you."

The Doctor huffed his annoyance as he took his seat at the moulded grey table in the interrogation room. The ship had two lounge areas, one put aside for crew recreation and the other for diplomatic purposes. The second of the two was outfitted with advanced security and survivability equipment that could both adapt to a wide variety of species and their cosmopolitan needs. For the most part the lounge was virtually unused except by a few members of the crew who utilised the space for martial arts and other physical exercise that required more space than was available in the diminutive gymnasium or their own cabins.

For now the security equipment was being fully utilised and the space turned over to holding the alien visitors until they had been more fully assessed.

"We had some problems." The Doctor explained wearily. "No injuries, thank God."

"You encountered the Cardassians." The Coo'gral said firmly, making the inquiry more of a statement than a question.

"Apparently." The Doctor shrugged. "They used a Spacematic transport. That's a low grade ship, barely more than a shuttle with basic facilities and a simplistic Warp drive."

"They arrived before us." The Coo'gral spoke with a tone that may have been regret. "In your future and our present a vortex through time was created. There was an explosion and the vortex began to close in on itself. We detected the Cardassian ship and decided to follow it in our vessel."

"To destroy it?" The Doctor asked, caught up in the narrative.

"Things did not go according to plan." Coo'gral began as if with the very deepest of regrets. "The vortex was crude and unstable. Within it we encountered the enemy and they fired upon us. Our vessel was damaged and we could no longer maintain our shields. We launched two small shuttles to follow them and keep a track or destroy them if possible."

"There's another of your shuttles?" The Doctor sat back in surprise.

The alien shook its head slowly. "It was destroyed by our ship. At that point it was out of control. We were lucky, we were the first to leave."

"So the Cardassian ship arrived first and you believe they have begun to alter history?" The Doctor turned to the nurse with a frown of concern.

"They have learnt to hide here, it seems." The Coo'gral agreed. "They must be stopped. This ship will serve to do it. You are all meant to be dead and have no further impact on history. You are ideally suited to assist in the destruction of the Cardassians."

"Well that will be the Captain's decision to make, not mine." The Doctor told them firmly, quite glad that it was true.

"Captain?" Chief Engineer Murfett said with surprise as he stepped onto the deck. "Is there a problem?"

"No." He shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss the suggestion. "We're under way at Warp 8 and all systems appear stable. I just wanted to see how things were holding up down here for myself."

"We're in good shape." The engineer wiped his hands down his uniform and gestured to the master readout screen. "We took quite a beating and I won't pretend they didn't hurt us but she's recovering nicely now."

"We saw a radiation leak." The Captain told him knowingly.

"It was minor." Murfett snapped suddenly. "We're working to seal it. There's no threat to the crew. We ruptured a conduit in the exhaust system and it permeated through the hull. It's not harmful and once it's sealed we can have it purged in less than thirty hours. The ship can even cope with that herself with the automated systems."

"Ok." The Captain smiled. "It sounds like you're on top of things."

"I always am." He smirked. "We're working on a way to get more power to the shields so we don't take so much damage next time."

"Any luck?" The Captain asked with interest.

"Nothing like the threat of death to motivate an engineering team!" He quipped. "Actually we have a few ideas. I think we can increase power to the shields while not at Warp by channelling power through the nacelles."

"Sounds good." The Captain nodded. "Check everything with Tarvor."

"Sir..." He protested but was cut off by a glower from the Captain.

"You may consider that an order." Suddenly a call came through on the Captains wrist mounted intercom. "Franks." He said, pressing the controls while his eyes remained fixed on the engineer who had begun to sulk dejectedly.

"Doctor here." The message began. "Can you meet me right away? We may have a problem."

With a frown he acknowledged and left for the single turbolift that accessed the engineering hull.

The Doctor stood up from the chair as the door hissed open. He cast a troubled glance to his assistant as he stepped towards the Captain.

"Problem?" The Captain shrugged openly.

The Doctor gestured for him to stop with an outstretched palm and then slowly led the Captain to the far edge of the room. "Somewhat." He agreed as he glanced back at the two floating frames of smoked glass through which was visible the two alien beings.

"What have you found out?" The Captain asked, his voice lowered as the two huddled closely together.

"Quite a bit actually." The Doctor began with a troubled sigh. "But that's not why I called you."

"Then why?" He frowned as he began to suspect the worst.

"There was a release of radiation during the attack." The Doctor began. "It's had an effect on the physiology of our two guests. It's began to phase them fully back into our physical perception of the Universe."

"You mean they're becoming visible?" The Captain began to smile.

"It's more than that." The Doctor shook his head with an expression of utter seriousness. "They're phased out of the physical Universe too. They have a presence less than a hundredth of that of normal Humanoid species."

"I don't follow." The Captain admitted, casting a curious glance to the guests.

"The atoms we're made of are tiny pockets of electricity and are mostly areas of empty space." The Doctor explained. "Theirs are a different kind of electricity to ours, they have less than one hundredth the mass and density that we consider normal."

"I'm sure there's a problem in all of this that I don't see?" The Captain suggested wryly. "You're telling me that we'll be able to see them and contain them more easily if we need to, maybe even make them susceptible to a Phaser?"

"John." The Doctor snapped urgently. "They're dying."

"What?" The Captain frowned and shook his head slightly in confusion.

"Their bodies couldn't possibly support their own mass if they phased into our Universe fully." The Doctor told him with a sorrowful expression. "Their lungs will collapse in less than four hours and they'll suffocate."

"So what can you do?" The Captain scowled as realisation of the direness of the situation dawned on him.

"Nothing." The Doctor admitted weakly. "I couldn't even begin to help them until they phased sufficiently into our universe and by then it would already be too late."

"So it's inevitable?" The Doctor closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "Do they know?"

"They told me." The Doctor replied with a sigh. "They want to talk to you about it."

Captain Franks stepped past the Doctor without another word and stepped slowly to the doomed aliens.

"Captain Jonathon Franks." The first of them said. "Thank you for meeting with us."

"You're welcome." He told them in reply as he sat himself in the chair opposite.

"By now you have seen that our position is helpless." The Coo'gral began. "The Cardassians must be stopped at all costs or the entire universe will be in danger."

"What do you expect me to do?" He asked earnestly.

"We have assisted with upgrades to your vessel." It told him. "We are willing to offer you the benefit of our records and data as well as anything else you feel might help in your quest. You must find the Cardassian ship and assist us in its destruction."

"If I agree to that what makes you think I would be able?" The Captain shook his head sadly. "We have a Romulan vessel on our tail and ahead of us is a totally uncharted region. We've faced a vessel that has simply been upgraded by the Cardassians and barely escaped with our ship in one piece, we would have no hope against their vessel when we find it."

"You need only to find it." They told him together, their voices spoken as one.

"I don't understand?" The Captain admitted.

"We have much to discuss." The first of the two told him. "Before we can even begin with that we must have your agreement to continue where we have failed."

Tarvor stood before the viewer as if in awe of the spectacle that confronted him. The blackness of space unfolded before the ship, punctuated by countless stars.

"Section 2031." He shuddered to himself.

"Surely you don't believe the stories?" Commander Crowley asked mockingly. "You're a Vulcan, you aren't interested in superstition."

"The Vulcans have a name for this place." He turned to tell her. "The Vag'cronnar. It means the place where shadows stalk the soul."

"The Federation calls it Section 2031." She sneered at his apparent discomfort. "According to my records it's unexplored while the council attempts to extend the exploration treaty to allow us the rights to enter. According to long range scans there is an electro-magnetic field permeating the region that causes a 12% drag on a Warp field and reduces the efficiency of sensors by around 30%."

"I've heard stories." Lieutenant Sneddon added from the tactical console.

"Don't you start." The Commander warned him in annoyance.

"I didn't mean the spooky kind." He smirked at the science officer. "I've heard that the Orion syndicate might well have a central base of operations in there. Apparently that's why the Federation is so keen to get in."

"The Romulans won't enter it lightly." Tarvor wrapped his arms around himself as he spoke.

"That really won't be a problem." Sneddon grinned. "They wouldn't risk a fight with the Orions at the moment. They have enough enemies to keep them busy and the Empire is virtually on its knees after the war."

"That's not why." He told them, his voice lowered respectfully.

The doors slid open to the turboshaft entrance at the rear of the bridge as the Captain joined them.

"Status?" He asked as he made his way to his seat.

"We're at the edge of Section 2031." The Commander told him. "All systems are at normal operating levels and we're ready to proceed."

"Proceed into the Vag'cronnar." Tarvor added darkly.

"Plot a course." He ordered. "Time has suddenly become short. It's imperative we get on with the business of tracking the Spacematic transport as quickly as we can."

 

Part 3 of 3

The USS Asimov's reactors flared with power as the Impulse engines carried her gingerly out of Federation space into a new and unexplored region of the galaxy where rumours held of starships vanishing and of things strangers still befalling the unwary.

"Five thousand kilometres." Commander Crowley reported from her station. "We'll be out of range of Federation sensor posts in twelve seconds."

"And alone!" Tarvor shuddered, glancing up from the myriad data churning through his science console. "Alone and adrift in the fires of hell."

"A touch melodramatic." The Captain allowed a smile to flutter across his lips as he turned incredulously to face his old friend. "The unknown has always held fear in the hearts of primitive men but we're explorers at heart. Tarvor, I'm surprised at you."

"I'm not an explorer." He grumbled back with weak protest. "I'm a scientist, given a choice I'd be in a comfortable lab deep within the Federation behind the combined defences of Starfleet and the Federation member worlds. I was thinking only this morning how nice it might be too study the growth of fungus for a while and for once, not on whatever they're serving in the canteen."

"What a shame you don't have a choice." The Commander told him evenly, concealing the ring of sarcasm she had wanted to project more openly that had become stifled by her professionalism.

"It appears I lack both a choice or much of a chance of surviving the next few days." Tarvor agreed with yet another shudder.

"Tarvor." Captain Franks warned. "Your aloof Vulcan cynicism is slipping. Why don't you just tell me what you're reading up ahead?"

The science officer took a deep breath as he marshalled his thoughts, shaking his head as he did so as if to dispel the demons nipping at his mind. "There's a strange radiation coming from nowhere. It's like a wall of subspace static."

"I'm reading that too." The Commander nodded. "But what is it?"

"I'll have to work on that." Tarvor grimaced at his ignorance. "I can tell you that it's going to have an effect on all of our subspace systems, including Warp drive!"

"An effect?" The Captain stood up from his chair and stepped over to the console. "If you had to guess, what might these effects be?"

"If I had to guess..." Tarvor nodded to confirm that he was merely surmising. "I would imagine a drag on our Warp propulsion. I should expect to see a 25% drop in efficiency but maybe more. I would guess our communications range would be cut down too with increased static interference and a lack of clarity."

"And this is the whole region?" The Captain frowned thoughtfully while Tarvor replied with a nod.

"Indeed." He agreed. "That would make this an excellent place to hide."

"So!" The Captain clapped his hands together enthusiastically as he turned to the bridge crew. "We have a time travelling alien vessel the size of a needle hiding out in this haystack and we have to find it wearing leather gloves and dark glasses."

"That would sound a roughly accurate analogy." Tarvor nodded as a smile fluttered unchecked over his lips and his mood lightened slightly.

"Take us to Warp 6." He instructed. "Hold us there and make a full analysis of the drag effect. We'll increase when we know more fully what we're dealing with."

"Yes sir!" The screen flashed as the stars melted into tunnel before them, stretching beyond normal space and time as the ship plunged deeper into the unknown.

"Time is growing short." The Coo'gral told the Doctor, its voice almost sounding slurred as the sound echoed around the lounge. He nodded simply, still his mind racing for a way to help the stricken aliens. "We must give you new things."

"Upgrades?" The Doctor flashed a glance to his assistant. "We have made changes to our engines and warp coils. What more are you asking?"

"Phasers." It replied simply, the word snapping from the alien in a gasp as its breath came only with increasing effort.

"Go on." The Doctor nodded as his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Yours are insufficient." It told him with laboured speech. "With some modifications to the pre-fire chamber and focusing coils they will increase in power exponentially. This ship must be all she can be."

"I'm not sure the Captain will be willing to allow changes to our weapon systems." The Doctor frowned. "We're explorers, not warriors. We consider our Phasers to be defensive measures. They're installed to give us the ability to disable an aggressor, not destroy them."

"He will agree." Coo'gral said simply, it's emotionless eyes locking onto his.

"We're not killers." The Doctor scowled back angrily.

"There will come a time when the Federation would not hesitate." It told him calmly, it voice halting between words as its lungs struggled to claw in the thickening air as its decline quickened. "One day your precious ideals will slip and Starfleet will build battle ships. All it takes is fear of the enemy. Fear of the Borg, fear of the Cardassians and the Dominion threat. You will openly betray your principles then and your hand will reach out for new weapons far beyond what we are ready to offer you now. These are the enemies you face now, in your time. This ship has little chance of completing her mission without our help and unless it does your future will end here."

"I would never believe that." The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Human history is replete with war and lies. We'd never walk that path again."

"It is your nature." Coo'gral told him. "You can ignore it but it remains at your core."

"I know that." The Doctor grinned cruelly. "I know the darkness broils away within every man. I know my mind harbours thoughts of evil actions but I won't judge a species by that measure. I judge us on our actions, on what we achieve in spite of our failings."

"You will bring the upgrades to the attention of the Captain?" The Coo'gral asked finally, its eyes locked into the angry scowl of the Doctor's. He nodded hesitantly in agreement before reaching forward to take up a Padd loaded with the detailed schematics of the new weapons proposals.

"You said Phasers..." He frowned deeply and spoke with an accusing tone. "There's more here than just Phasers."

"There is nothing more than what you'll need." He was told darkly.

"Quantum torpedoes?" He read from the list of headings. "Pulse Phasers? Ablative armour? Cloaking screens? Trans-phasic kinetic mines?"

"Your death is the death of the Galaxy." It told him, the tone lowering still while the volume of its voice increased in annoyance. "The Cardassians will destroy your future and the future of all."

The USS Ronin followed what little trail there was in her search for the USS Asimov. "Report?" The Captain demanded as he lounged in the comfortable centre-chair with his legs crossed and his head thoughtfully perched on his upturned hand.

"Not much to report." The Commander sighed wearily. "Captain Franks has gone to Warp and dropped out several times to cross his trail. Every trail leads us to a star where the radiation has masked his course change."

"He knows what he's doing." The Captain agreed with a deep exhalation of air as he leant forwards to glare accusingly at the view of the stars in the viewer who held their secrets from him. "Any word from our friends in Starfleet?"

"They have hailed us twice." The communications officer reported duly. "They are requesting information about our course."

"Ignore them for now." The Captain held up his hand in a blunt gesture of unconcern. "Let them think we're just slinking away with our tail between our legs for now."

"But we're not." The Commander grinned suggestively.

"We'll keep that to ourselves for now." He nodded back, his stare still locked on the viewer.

"Sir!" The communications officer snapped up suddenly. "I'm detecting something."

"Report." The Captain turned with sudden interest, reflexively stepping up from the chair.

"A ship on a stealth approach." The officer shook his head as he tried to make some sense of the information. "I'm not detecting a navigational deflector beam or any waste plasma. It must be shielding its transmission somehow."

"What are you detecting?" The Captains face hardened as concern began to show. "Romulans?"

"No." He shook his head again. "Federation, Starfleet to be exact. I'm receiving a transponder signal and the computers have returned a non-belligerency confirmation."

"Starfleet vessels don't have stealth equipment." The Commander scowled.

"This one does, sir." The communications officer shrugged.

"Hail them." The Captain instructed, his arms crossing and a thoughtful frown appearing on his face. "It could be Captain Franks."

"They're hailing us." He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"On screen." The Captain shrugged, turning back to the monitor. Space vanished instantly to be replaced with the gloomy red interior of a Starfleet vessel on high alert. A high-ranking officer stepped into view, scowling with menace and aloof authority out at the crew.

"I'm Captain Titor." He said simply. "You will stand down and hand over all of your recorded data to us immediately."

"On whose authority?" Captain Singh asked, his eyes peering into the other ship, scanning quickly with the benefit of experience. He noted the unusual layout of instruments as he hunted for a schematic of the ship.

"Starfleet intelligence." The officer told him coldly. He was a tall man, straight in stature and stood with an imposing confidence and unwavering resolution. "You will stand down if you ever want to take the centre chair again." He stared firmly into the other vessels bridge.

"Sir." The communications officer began, taking the precaution of muting the communications channel. "The ship doesn't register as a known class. It's Starfleet but the vessel itself is classified."

"I'm not at all surprised." He admitted as he returned his attention to the viewer. "I'm Captain Singh." He began. "We'll hold position and await your arrival."

Commander Crowley took her seat opposite the Captain in his ready-room at the side of the diminutive bridge. She waited patiently for him to complete the report on his Padd. "Opinion?" He demanded wearily.

"Engines are one thing." She began haltingly as if her thoughts and speech were running at different speeds. "Having the Coo'gral showing us how to maximise the performance of our drive systems is a completely different proposition to refitting our Phaser banks and equipping ourselves with aggressive technology from the future."

"I tend to agree." He nodded solemnly. "Quantum torpedoes? Do we even have an explanation of what they are?"

"Tarvor is working on that." She told him with a negative expression. "By his estimates we could equip ourselves with five of them if we removed the payload of standard torpedoes and borrowed the drive material from the Coo'gral shuttle. He says the ablative armour is out of the question for now but the regenerative shielding is a possibility."

"I'm interested in the shields." The Captain said with a nod to himself.

"Lieutenant Sneddon is working on a full review of our tactical systems in the light of the information the Coo'gral have supplied about the Cardassian vessel." She said finally. "Hopefully we'll have a better idea of what we may be able to make from this list by then."

"This is not a battle ship." Captain Franks said firmly, his chest rising proudly. "She is a Starfleet vessel. I won't turn her into ship of war, even to protect ourselves from fighting one."

"I quite agree." She replied with obvious relief that that was his position on the matter.

"There's something else though, isn't there?" He asked, watching her shift uneasily in her seat as the conversation appeared to be closing. She duly nodded her positive reply and closed her eyes for a moment.

"I hesitate to bring the matter up." She began awkwardly.

"We talk freely on this ship." He told her with a smile. "Haven't you learnt that yet?"

"Yes." She agreed. "However I have an issue with a member of the crew. As your first officer I feel as though it is my duty to bring my concerns to your attention."

"Quite right." The Captain nodded in agreement. "What's Lieutenant Sneddon done now?"

"Tarvor actually." She said with a frown while she waited for the rebuke she was certain was due to follow.

"Tarvor." The Captain smirked to himself. "Please continue."

"His behaviour has given me serious concerns for his state of mind." She began. "As a Vulcan he should be utterly dispassionate and yet his emotions are surfacing quite openly with accompanying physical responses. I have accessed the Starfleet database and I believe he may be suffering from a condition known as Pra'chakar which can seriously effect the thought processes of Vulcan males. Although it's a form of senility it's not unheard of for a male of Tarvor's age to be affected."

"You've done your homework." The Captain smiled as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"You have encouraged me to be more open but under the circumstances I felt wise to keep my concerns to myself while I considered the situation fully." She said as she hung her head, feeling like she had somehow betrayed the science officer.

"Tarvor is fine." Captain Franks told her finally.

"But sir..." She began in protest. Captain Franks stood up and turned from her with his hands clamped tightly behind his back. He stared for a moment at the picture of his ship in dock.

"I have something to tell you." He said finally. He turned back to her with an expression she found difficult to read. "Before I continue I would like to have your assurance that what is said in this office goes no further." The Commander nodded her reply as she frowned curiously. "As Commander you have the right to know this but due to the sensitivity of the information I wanted to wait for a more opportune moment."

"Sir, you have my assurance of discretion." She told him.

"Considering we're all meant to be dead by now, myself with a self inflicted Phaser burn to my temple and the rest of the crew at the hands of a Romulan Bird of Prey it seems a more opportune time may well never present itself." He told her with a smirk. She nodded for him to continue.

"Tarvor is not a Vulcan." He told her flatly. "He's Romulan."

"Romulan?" She gasped in surprise, her jaw lolling open as her mind raced.

"Let me explain." The Captain sighed. "Tarvor's family were campaigners for reunification. They believed in bringing the worlds of Romulus and Vulcan back together to reunite their people. After the heavy losses of the Romulan war and the Klingons breathing down their necks a lot of people were sympathetic to the idea. The Romulan government feared a civil-war which would basically invite the Klingons to simply come in and take over virtually unopposed. They came down hard on them and most of his family were executed for treason. Tarvor and his two sisters escaped and surrendered to a Federation vessel requesting asylum."

"Starfleet knows about this?" She asked, still surprised at the revelation.

"They do." He agreed. "Tarvor was carefully vetted but had a good background in science. He had served aboard three insurgence scouts so has a working knowledge of Romulan technology. I made sure he was a member of my crew as soon as I heard about him. Calling himself Vulcan was his idea. He feels it makes his acceptance a little easier."

Commander Crowley rung her hands nervously as she breathed a heavy sigh. "It's a lot to take in." She said thoughtfully, his brow furrowing into a frown.

"I don't want you to treat him any differently." The Captain warned her. "He's proved his loyalty both to the Federation and to this ship."

"I understand." She agreed.

Bochrane, the Romulan Commander glowered at the tactical readouts before him. "The Federation heavy cruiser has changed course to rendezvous with the other vessels." Centurion Churnag told him with a sigh.

"They know something." The Commander surmised. "They must be on the trail of the Foundation class ship. This is all very confusing."

"Confusing indeed." Churang agreed unreservedly. "Confusing and dangerous."

The Doctor turned as the doors slid open to the lounge. Captain Franks walked briskly in with an air of authority as he made his way to the table where the Doctor was continuing to interview the two aliens.

"I have considered your offer." He began with a note of resolution to his tone. "We are considering integrating the regenerative shielding into our tactical grid but will not be upgrading the Phasers and torpedoes."

"Unwise." The Coo'gral told him. "You will reconsider."

"I will not!" Franks snapped in annoyance. "The weapons with which my ship is armed serve for our defence alone. I won't violate the principles on which Starfleet is founded."

"Principles will not protect you from a polarised disrupter stream." The alien told him through gasps as it struggled to breath. Its lungs burnt and it wheezed as it spoke.

"How long do you have?" The Captain asked the still invisible alien creature as he dropped the Padd carelessly to the counter top to demonstrate that all conversation of the matter was indeed over.

"Not long." The Coo'gral hissed. "The pressure is strong now. It is hard to stand."

"There's nothing I can do." The Doctor shook his head sadly as he shrugged helplessly to his own uselessness. "I can't help them."

"There is something you must know." The second of the two told the Captain. "Then you will upgrade the weapons."

"The matter is decided I'm afraid." He shook his head firmly.

"You are married." The Coo'gral continued, ignoring him as it spoke. "Your first wife bore your daughter. She is now fourteen although you've not seen her in five years."

"How do you know that?" He growled through gritted teeth, his fists reflexively balling and the colour draining from his ashen face as the anger flooded his muscles with adrenaline.

"She marries an officer from Starfleet." The Coo'gral spoke softly. "Is it irony that she found that he reminded her of you?"

"I'm warning you..." The Captain leant forwards, the Doctor reached out and held his arm. The Captain turned to glower into his worried eyes.

"Captain..." He said warmly to his friend.

"Her son is the father of a man." The Coo'gral told him as if that revelation explained everything. "Our research is conclusive." The second spoke without hesitation. "And irrefutable."

"We don't understand." The Doctor said while the Captain composed himself.

"Then we must explain." The Coo'gral said.

"We could activate the device?" The Romulan First-officer suggested. "Surely that would force their hand?"

"And tip ours." The Commander shook his head solemnly. "We will indeed use it but not yet. It is our only hope of victory now."

"Yes, Sir." The officer agreed with a nod. "Even three Federation vessels could not stand against us once we activate it. We would have the advantage."

"Correct." The Commander agreed. "But we can only use it once. We must bide our time until we are closer to victory."

"Our two other vessels have acknowledged our message." The officer nodded again at the superior wisdom of his leader. "All of us now will converge on the enemy in the Shadow zone."

The Commander leant forward on the flat oblong table before him. In the centre a schematic of the region showed the tactical plan they were following. "Here." He pointed to the place he intended to spring his trap. "We'll attack them here."

"Excellent, sir." The officer nodded as he made preparations to transmit the information to the Commanders of the other vessels.

"Churang." The Commander looked up to the enthusiastic junior officer. "Sir?" He looked back with a neutral expression. "Have you ever been in combat? I mean real combat against a superior enemy with the resolve to destroy you?"

"I'm looking forward to it." He grinned suggestively.

"I'm not." The Commander told him as the enthusiasm vanished from the face of his colleague. "The Federation are strong. I'm in no hurry to see the spilling of more blood because I'm weary of the smell of death."

"But we are righteous." The officer frowned in confusion.

"That's no more than a difference of ideology." He told him flatly. "Righteousness is the province of the victor and it is he who will pen the pages of history."

"I pray it will be us." He scowled with a more restrained form of determination than before.

"So do I." The Commander agreed. "As we fight for the future of our Empire, so do I."

The officer's lounge was deserted except for the invited crew who had been called upon to join the meeting.

"We are going ahead to install the weapon upgrades." The Captain announced with a heavy heart.

"Sir?" The Commander scowled at him disapprovingly. "I thought you agreed that to do so would be to violate the principals we are here to uphold."

"Lieutenant Sneddon." He ignored her and turned to his tactical officer. "Our Phaser cannons should readily accept the modifications to the new pulsed configurations."

"They will indeed." He agreed with a nod and an awkward glance to the other officers. "They'll overheat fast though. We'll have to cool them for about 5 seconds between firing cycles."

"Then you better get used to hitting things the first time you fire at them." He told him coldly. "Tarvor. I want you to go ahead and refit five torpedoes to the new quantum configuration."

"I advise against it." He shrugged. "The yield works in a totally different way. I can't be certain that our shields will protect us adequately or that we'll even be able to store them safely on board."

"Those are my orders." Captain Franks told him bluntly as his eyes ran over the Padd. "The regenerative shields are relatively simple to install and I want them functioning as quickly as possible."

"I can have them running in about 3 hours if I set my team to it and you don't give us any nasty surprises." The Engineer assured him.

"No promises." The Captain made an attempt to smile but it was lost to the darkness of his mood.

"May I ask what changed your mind?" Commander Crowley rubbed her temples with growing concern.

"Now is not the time." He told her. "I need you to co-ordinate the efforts of the team. Make sure all departments are working as efficiently as possible together."

"I know my job." She scowled.

"Then don't let me stop you from doing it." He glared back angrily.

The USS Gideon pulled alongside the Ronin. A smaller vessel with a saucer suspended over a long secondary hull that opened at the front to show a bristling array of brutal weaponry.

"They're hailing us." The communications chief warned his Captain. "They want to beam aboard."

"Send co-ordinates." The Captain instructed. "Commander, would you care to join me in Transporter room 1?"

"Sir!" She agreed as she followed him to the turbo-lift.

"I think we're in trouble." He admitted once the doors had sealed and secured their privacy.

"We, sir?" She asked with a coquettish smile. "You are the Captain."

"Quite so." He agreed with a frown. "Well in that case, let me remind you of an old Earth saying that my father once told me. Shit runs downhill."

She chuckled to herself with cautious optimism. "Sir, I don't see that we've done anything wrong. We're concerned for the safety of a fellow Starfleet vessel and are in an attempt to assist them."

"I think it's safe to assume things have taken a more serious tone than that." The Captain assured her. "Starfleet intelligence... classified ships... As I said before, I think we're in trouble." The lift whined to a halt before changing direction and heading horizontally towards its destination.

"May I ask you a question?" She ventured, gazing up to her commanding officer towards whom her feelings were not solely and exclusively professional. He nodded simply and waited for her to continue. "Captain Franks? What do you think is really going on?"

"I wish I knew." He shook his head dolefully. "He would never betray Starfleet. Whatever he's doing is for the good of the Federation and I'd trust him before I take the word of any number of Intelligence officers. He'd die before he'd do the wrong thing. He's one of the finest officers I've met."

"You really respect him don't you?" She smiled to herself while fantasising that he one day might describe her in equal terms.

"I hope you get the opportunity to meet him." He told her. "I really do."

"Enter!" Captain Franks barked, annoyed at the intrusion the door chime had made into his thoughts. The door slid open as Tarvor stepped into the office. "Can I help you, Mr. Tarvor?" He asked coldly.

"Yes." He nodded and anticipated an offer to take a seat. "I believe we need to talk."

"I don't remember giving you an order to come to my ready-room, in fact I distinctly recall giving you a job to do." Franks told him without too much accusation, relieved as he was for the distraction.

"Well we all have a job to do." Tarvor told him, leaning back. "You're not going to able to do yours properly with a head full of pent up aggression."

"I have many things in my head right now." The Captain breathed heavily and rubbed his temples.

"Why the upgrades?" Tarvor ventured. The Captain stood up from behind his desk and stepped to a cabinet mounted on the cold metallic bulkhead. From within he brought two bottles and held them up to his friend. One was Romulan ale and the other was a matured scotch whiskey.

"Romulan ale always tasted to me like someone had drowned a Baranian cat in a puddle of its own urine." Tarvor began with a frown. "That is actually how they make it, you know?"

"Whiskey then?" Franks muttered to himself, discarding the bottle of green liquid carelessly back into the cabinet. He poured two small glasses and thought to himself about the events unfolding around them.

"You were telling me about the weapons upgrades and your insane plan to go along with the aliens you don't trust?" Tarvor began.

"Was I?" Franks smirked as he handed him a glass and the pair clinked them together politely. "They told me some things."

"Things?" Tarvor raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I have a daughter. She's just a child for now" He began with a sigh. "She's going to marry an officer in Starfleet and have children one day. One of them will have a son who will have a son of his own." He stopped for a second while he thought, a deeply unsettled expression on his face. "It's like the future is laid out for all of us and there's nothing we can do about it. Time is rolling over us, we're not running along a track from the past to the future, it's running straight over us."

"That's what's troubling you?" Tarvor asked curiously with a sip of the smooth old liquid.

"I came to realise something." The Captain shook his head. "We're gone. We can't ever go back. I know we knew that when we started this but now we're committed. We're dead and have to stay that way, out of the way of history while we make sure nobody else is allowed to change things."

"You'll never see your daughter again?" Tarvor nodded knowingly. "So what did they tell you that made you accept the upgrades?"

"I can't even begin to get my head around it." The Captain admitted. "Something is happening here beyond any of our wildest dreams."

"I realise that." He agreed softly.

Captain Titor materialised in a flickering blue light in the main transporter room aboard the USS Ronin. Captain Singh stood before his first officer as the pair waited patiently for the technology to complete its cycle under the watchful gaze of an experienced operative. The deep humming sound subsided and the Intelligence officer stepped forward from the platform, peering around accusingly as he did so.

"What information do you have pertaining to the whereabouts of the USS Asimov?" He asked coldly in a tone that implied that anything less than absolute co-operation would neither be acceptable or tolerated.

"We believe that it headed off along the course we're following." The Captain admitted, his head hung slightly as guilt wracked his emotions, feeling as if he was letting down his old friend.

"You." He pointed rudely at the Commander, ignoring any sentiment of politeness. "Begin downloading all you have to my ship." She glanced up at her Captain with eyes almost pleading for guidance. He merely nodded once before glowering at the other man with barely concealed hostility.

"What's going on here?" He demanded, straightening his back as he spoke.

"You're handing over your sensor logs." He told him, rocking back on the balls of his feet as his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "You will then head for the Klingon border to begin the mission to which you were previously assigned."

"Just like that?" He shook his head, aghast at what he was hearing. "There's a Starfleet vessel out there. Perhaps in trouble, perhaps needing our assistance."

"And perhaps not." Captain Titor snapped finally, his own mood darkening. "The Asimov and Captain Franks have gone renegade. They are to be considered hostile." He paused for a moment as if for dramatic effect. "Hostile to both Starfleet and the Federation at large."

"Captain Franks would never betray the Federation." The Captain shook his head firmly, with the confidence of a man speaking of a friend. "He has served for years on the Romulan border and proved himself time and again as a trusted officer and expert in the affairs of our adversaries."

"Listen to yourself." Titor sneered, his fingers uncoiling from themselves as his right hand reached out to extend an accusing finger of admonishment to the Captain. "He's served for years as an expert in the Romulans. He patrols the Romulan border in a Foundation class ship and now he vanishes after capturing an alien vessel."

"So?" His eyes narrowed, his frown deepened as he feared he was about to hear something he would not like but would find difficult to refute out of hand.

"So..." He continued stabbing towards the officer with his finger as the words dripped like acid from his cold lips. "Disgruntled and weary with his service he then finds something that gives him a boon. An alien vessel that gives him a ticket... an invitation into Romulan space and asylum for his crew."

"Never." He sneered through gritted teeth. "He'd never switch sides."

"It would appear that he already has."

"How are my upgrades coming?" Captain Franks called out as he stepped onto the corrugated metallic floor plates of the engineering deck.

"I have a team of seven staff." The chief began with a grumble as he wiped his hands down the front of his uniform. "Two of them are tearing apart that alien shuttle for the spares we need to build your new torpedoes while the rest of us are integrating god-only-knows-what into our systems."

"Is this your way of telling me that things could be going better?" The Captain allowed a smile to crack through his façade.

"Seven!" Murfett reminded him. "I have only seven engineers on my team as well as Tarvor but he barely qualifies as a member of his own species."

"What's the progress?" The Captain glanced around the brash modifications. Glowing panels of circuitry replaced some of the control processors with new optical connections. New brackets fixed the untested parts to places they didn't entirely fit and the jumbled engineering was taking on an almost comic appearance as the laboured team scurried around shaking their heads disapprovingly.

"The Phasers are ready." He shrugged his reply. "Shield modifications are well under way as well. We only have 42 torpedoes left on board and we're going to lose five of them so if these quantum modifications don't work we'll be weakening our hand."

"I'm well aware of that." He nodded his agreement and his expression showed that he had not taken the decision lightly. "The ablative armour?"

The Engineer stared at him incredulously for an instant as if lost for words. He then waved his hand dismissively and laughed mockingly at the very suggestion. "I'm not joking." The Captain told him sternly.

"It's impossible." He scowled in a distinct lack of amusement.

"I want it installed and running by the end of the week." The Captain told him to cut the conversation off and leave the proper impression in the mind of his staff.

"It would require a network of replicators working with a resolution, accuracy and speed we're simply not capable of." The engineer protested. "Even if we were, we don't have the power to run a system like that."

"You heard me, Mr. Murfett." The Captain told him with a slightly upturned lip.

"Still nothing." Nurse Paulson said. She closed her eyes as if masking herself from the darkness they were feeding into her soul. She dropped the probe to the table and showed the Doctor her Tricorder readings. Still they failed to register that the Coo'gral were even in the room and yet through the smoked glass of their frames they could see their suffering and watch helplessly as they slowly declined towards their inevitable demise.

"I've never experienced anything like this." He told her with a smile that was intended to be comforting but was strangled by his own morose feelings. "To be so helpless..."

"Time..." The Coo'gral gasped, looking up at them from where it huddled on the floor of the bay. "Time... is short now."

"Is there anything we can do to make you comfortable at least?" She asked them, her eyes watering as she choked back a single tear while her emotions pricked at her heart.

"Let us not..." The second began, stopping to force another lungful of air into its weakening lungs, each breath taking it ever closer. "Let us not... our words be wasted. Our death can have meaning or else our lives will have none."

"Time..." The first began. "Time is resilient. History is coiled around impermeable threads of circumstance. Those seeking to alter history will find great effort in doing so. It can be done but time resists change, the pattern is spun already and everything fits in perfectly."

"What are you saying?" The Doctor frowned curiously, not quite understanding their intended message. "Are you saying that we can't change history?"

"But we have changed it already." The nurse shrugged. "The Captain didn't commit suicide. The ship wasn't handed over to Commander Crowley and destroyed by a Romulan Bird of Prey."

"Perhaps they're saying that we haven't." The Doctor felt a chill crawl up his spine as realisation burgeoned in his already troubled mind.

"Delayed perhaps." The Coo'gral agreed with a nod that required great effort. "It will be down to you to ensure you last long enough to destroy the threat posed by the Cardassian ship from the future or else you risk losing everything."

"So we are destined to die?" Paulson swallowed as her eyes widened fearfully.

"It is as much as we can do to delay the inevitable." The Coo'gral agreed. "Your sacrifice will be worthy of note but the pattern is set."

"But we must be able to change things?" The Doctor shared his assistant's nervousness.

"History has recorded these events and always must." The little alien insisted flatly as its voice trailed off. "Captain Jonathon Franks died by his own hand aboard the courier vessel, USS Constantine while relieved of his command. Commander Crowley took command of the USS Asimov and the vessel was attack and destroyed by a Romulan Bird of Prey on a final routine scouting mission along the edge of the neutral zone."

"How long?" He asked dimly, his eyes lowered while his feelings sank past his heavy heart to the floor as if he'd begun already to grieve for his loss.

"We have given you a chance..." The second Coo'gral said, raising its head with obvious effort. It's thin lips contorted with a flutter as with a great force of will it mimicked one of their human expressions of warmth. "Our deaths will mean everything if yours can be used to serve the freedom of the galaxy. Do not squander the chance you have been given."

The Starfleet Intelligence vessel began to move away as the Pagoda adjusted her course to follow. She was a small vessel, barely 70 metres long and yet armed to the teeth. Built with a singular purpose she had neither the space to accommodate a crew of scientists nor the will to employ them. The USS Ronin stood motionless in space while her bridge crew watched in silence as the two Starships moved off.

"All docks are secure." The Commander began dutifully but spoke as if doing so was an effort. "Propulsion is nominal, course to the Klingon border plotted and accepted. We can move off at your discretion, Captain."

"Hold position." He instructed coldly while his mind worked to sift through his disparate thoughts with a hazy kind of clarity.

"Sir?" She frowned, slightly confused.

"You gave them the exact course the Asimov took?" He sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowing and a tiny smile beginning to form on his face, his decision made.

"Yes sir." The Commander shook her head curiously.

"The exact course that she took with all the deviations that made her almost impossible for us to track?" The Captain smiled openly.

"Yes." She agreed, beginning to realise what he was hedging at. "That course. In fact it's still in our helm computer."

"And that course would obscure our progress from any other ship?" The Captain turned to her with a knowing smile.

"I would imagine so, Sir." She nodded thoughtfully. "Especially two vessels wilfully ignoring it to track forwards as fast as possible and travelling at maximum Warp."

"Quite so..." The Captain grinned widely.

"Sir!" The helm officer said while setting the controls. "I'm quite new to this vessel. I would hope not to disappoint my Captain by executing the incorrect course entirely."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't disappoint me at all." The Captain told him with a note of certainty.

"It's been a long day!" Captain Franks rubbed his temples wearily before perching himself on the edge of his ready-room desk.

"Long isn't the word." Tarvor agreed without hesitation. "We've got most of the upgrades under way but we're a long way from being fully functional."

"We were before we embarked on the upgrades." The Commander noted sarcastically with a wry glance at her Captain.

"That's the spirit." He grinned back, his palm outstretched to take the Padd she was offering him that contained her assessment of the ships capabilities. "You're starting to fit in a little better already."

"Somehow that doesn't feel like a compliment." She sighed.

"It seems more like an insult to me." Tarvor grumbled as his left eyebrow tracked upwards.

"What bothers me is how well everything is going." The Captain dropped the Padd to his knee and ruffled his brow curiously. "For five years I've heard nothing but damning reports of how this class of ships is dangerous and under-developed and then we add all these new wrinkles and she takes all our abuse while eagerly asking for more."

"She's not just a Foundation class ship!" Tarvor added sternly, like the rest of the crew all too quick to jump to her defence. "This is our ship and she's yet to let us down."

"So far..." Commander Crowley added slyly.

"No sign of the Spacematic vessel?" Franks asked her with a frown.

"None." She shook her head sadly. "It's gone from our sensors completely. We haven't had so much as a sensor echo in five hours now."

"This is a good place to hide." The Captain bit his lip in annoyance. "Radiation cutting our sensors and clipping our wings, added to which the region is totally uncharted."

"If it is hiding." Tarvor noted with a slight uneasiness. "If it didn't vanish..."

"Considering the effects of space here and the rumours that pirates are operating with impunity the stories of ships vanishing here are less likely to be the result of a mysterious ghostly presence than they are of a more mundane case of ambush."

"You'd rather be ambushed by pirates?" The Captain asked with a smirk. "At least it would give us a good opportunity to test our weapons systems."

"Which brings me to the next point that has been bothering me." Tarvor began with a sharp exhalation of breath. "We have yet to prove that any of our upgrades will do anything more than light a candle and even that is assuming they don't blow the ship apart."

"Ever the optimist." The Commander scowled at him.

"To Tarvor the glass is always half empty, with tepid water, containing at least three dead insects." Captain Franks winked at her while Tarvor looked on in disapproval, his eyes flicking between the pair. "I do agree it would be nice to test our new equipment but I have reservations about tipping out hand to these "Cardassians" if they indeed are out here."

"Or to Starfleet?" The Commander looked up at him with a renewed seriousness. "It's safe to assume they'll take an interest in the disappearance of this ship while it's under the command of a Captain about whom they harbour doubts."

"Sensors can't see anything but I think she must be right." Tarvor agreed with a sigh. "As if we needed any more problems..."

"Continue scanning at wide angle and rotate the frequencies." The Captain told him. "If we have anyone behind us I want to be well prepared."

The two Romulan officers stood before the main tactical viewer of their ships bridge. Before them the schematic from the briefing table was sprawling out for all to see. The bridge was diminutive and lit dully. Sensors glowed a dimly muted shade of green and Spartan panels of switches were laid out in neat and functional rows beneath the monitors. The bridge operated in near total silence, the staff remaining attentive to their controls to better afford their trusted superiors the respect they earned by climbing the ranks.

"Two Federation ships are converging on the Foundation class." The first officer said finally although the details were plain to see. "Our vessels are close by and secure behind their cloaks. We are unseen and are at maximum speed to intercept."

"Our one advantage would be if we knew exactly where it was and could plot a more direct course." The Commander rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"We have that ability." The ambitious young officer said with relish. "We have only to operate the device."

"Then operate it." He said with a scowl as he resigned himself to the act. "And may the gods have mercy upon us."

Captain Titor sat at his chair at the heart of his bridge. He was the twisted image of tension, sat upright while glaring fixedly at the view before them. His ship was small, functional and equipped with little luxury. Beside him was his first officer operating the system controls and at the front of the bridge another officer at the combined navigation and helm.

"The Pagoda is holding at Warp 7." The Commander reported as he went about his duty.

"I might prefer her to remain at the border of Section 2031 while we investigate alone." The Captain told him thoughtfully. "We hardly need the guns of a heavy cruiser to destroy the Asimov. I would prefer the security of doing the job ourselves."

"Understood." The Vulcan officer agreed with a curt nod as though barely listening.

"Starfleet Intelligence is hardly reliable in matters of this kind." Captain Titor continued, simply verbalising his thoughts.

"That is what Section 31 was founded for, after all." Commander Siriv spoke in a flat monotone. "We are rather good at maintaining internal security after these years of experience."

"Quite!" The Captain agreed as if the pair where a single mind bouncing an idea around itself.

"I'm quite sure the Asimov is no match to this vessel." Siriv said as the schematic view of their prey appeared on his monitor with a tactical readout. "Quite sure."

"I'm not concerned about them." The Captain said grimly. "If they have already met with the Romulans then we may have another ship to deal with. If Franks has already handed over the Asimov then we may have a fight on our hands."

"A fight against a refitted wreck." Siriv noted humourlessly. "Nothing the Romulans are using can match us. They're still licking their wounds after the war. The Klingons are nipping at their defences constantly, whatever progress their technology is making is confined solely the province of their survival."

"Such arrogance, Siriv?" The Captain scolded mockingly. "It's not like you."

"Arrogance, no." He assured him. "I see little value in our serving in this role. The Foundation class should simply have been cancelled years ago when Captain Drake lead the defence of the DS3 space station. His ship spun out of control and was delivered to a waiting wing of Romulan Warbirds who turned the fight against the three other Starships."

"They won." The Captain allowed himself the darkest of smiles. "And Drake was killed in the fighting."

"The class is a failure." Siriv snapped with a suddenness that belied his Vulcan disparity. "We should be infiltrating Klingon space. We should be more concerned with the increase in energy production at Praxis and their continued development of their new scout class vessels."

"There's no mystery there." The Captain returned his attention to the viewer. "They're gearing up to an invasion of Romulan space."

"Except we'd never allow that." Siriv turned to his commanding officer with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sure something will be arranged." He smiled knowingly. "If they don't destroy themselves we may just have to help them out."

"Captain to the bridge..." Tarvor spoke with concern into his communicator. He turned to the Commander who was already stepping up from the centre-chair.

"I need more from you than a guess." She told him with a worried expression.

"It'll have to do." He told her with a shake of the head. "Something is very wrong here."

"If all you have is a guess then I'd like to hear it." She told him, running her hand over her black hair in exasperation.

"I don't know." He admitted. "Many things are troubling me. This simply adds to my concerns."

"Like why the Captain decided to go ahead with the upgrades to our weapon systems?" She surmised.

"I am not comfortable discussing that with you behind his back." Tarvor told her flatly. "He's both my commanding officer and my trusted friend."

"They told him something and then he orders something he had already discounted." She continued, unabated by his protest, which had been weak at best.

"I know." He nodded with a huff of indignation. "He is aggressive but not given to violence when uncalled for, nor does he seek out confrontation. I have found him a measured officer and man but have begun to think differently of him in light of recent events."

"You know him better than many of us." She agreed.

"This is personal." Tarvor swallowed and turned slowly to face her. "This is personal to him, nothing less could convince him to make these changes."

They both glared at one another, for a moment lost in contemplation before the door slid open and the Captain stepped onto the bridge. "What is it?" He demanded.

"Captain," Tarvor began. "I've detected something. A polarised beam was sent to our location. At first there was a sweep of the entire region on such a low carrier wave we didn't detect it. Then the beam was locked on us for two thirds of a second. I analysed the sensor logs and discovered the sweep after that."

"Someone is looking for us." The Commander told him with a frown.

"It sounds like they've found us." Franks grumbled, leaning over the console to see the information for himself. "The question is who?"

"I know who..." Tarvor told him with utter certainty. "The carrier wave is a common enough signal, I know all too well how to analyse it."

"Who?" The Captain stood up suddenly and his expression was one of stony severity.

"Romulans." Tarvor spoke with absolute certainty.

"A Bird of Prey I wouldn't wonder." Franks frowned to himself. "The one destined to destroy this vessel."

"The sweep would have triggered our automated sensor software." Tarvor explained. "The ship automatically would have locked long range sensors on the source for a full analysis. If that happens then the polarised beam would have become a communications channel between the two computers."

"They could have spoken to our computer?" The Commander gasped, turning to the Captain in surprise.

"In a simplistic way." Tarvor agreed.

"You said would have..." Captain Franks asked softly.

"The software is crude." Tarvor smiled thinly. "I installed my own package years ago and made many system changes drawn from my experience with Romulan technology."

"But they know where we are?" The Captain smiled back.

"And it's safe to assume they're on their way."

"A flash... just for an instant." Siriv said as the data was sent to the viewer. "I would guess that some kind of polarised beam was bounced from the hull of a ship running with its shields down."

"The Asimov." He scowled. "What would a beam like that be used for?"

"Communication." Siriv told him flatly.

"So it's true and now all evidence is irrefutable." Captain Titor said to himself. "Captain Franks had indeed intended to hand his ship over to the Romulans and now they're coming to make the trade. Why else would he be hiding in an unexplored region of space which clouds our sensors with shields down while communicating with the enemy of the Federation?"

"Weapons charged." Siriv reported calmly with his utterly efficient monotone that lacked the merest suggestion of Human warmth to even the slightest degree.

"Tell the Pagoda to stand fast." The Captain instructed. "We'll deal with this ourselves!"

"Something is coming..." Tarvor warned with a sigh. "Federation I think."

"You think?" The Captain asked caustically from his command chair as he prepared to take his ship to full alert status.

"It seems to be running some kind of stealth equipment." He explained hurriedly. "It's not emitting a communications beacon. It's coming at us cold, whatever it is. It's heading directly at us from the direction we came... from Federation space."

"Who would be running stealth equipment in the Federation?" Commander Crowley asked rhetorically. "Starfleet intelligence?"

"Section 31." The Captain frowned.

"Who?" Tarvor turned to the Captain with a shrug.

"Never mind..." He scowled at the reverse angle at the viewer although a visual lock was still some time off.

"Red alert, sir?" Lieutenant Sneddon asked impatiently.

"Shields up." Captain Franks instructed. "No weapons lock."

"Sir?" Sneddon turned in surprise.

"I won't fire on a Federation ship, no matter who they are. No matter how misguided their intentions." He explained. "We can still easily outrun them."

"No we can't." Commander Crowley added. "If we leave here we'll lose the sensor search pattern. We might never track onto the Spacematic again in here."

"So we wait?" Tarvor growled at her. "We sit here and wait to be fired upon by a ship with no such moral objections as those holding back our Captain?"

"Tarvor!" Captain Franks snapped, plunging them both into silence. "How long?" Hesitantly he returned his attention to his instruments. "Five minutes at the present velocity. They'll be in visual range in two."

"We can't leave." The Commander insisted. "We'll lose the Spacematic if we do."

"We can't stay." Franks added rhetorically. "And we won't fire, even on Section 31."

"May I remind the Captain that there's a Romulan vessel heading in our direction as well. Maybe more than one..." Lieutenant Sneddon added, eager to bring the new tactical systems to bear.

"So then what?" Tarvor exclaimed. "What are we going to do?"

The Section 31 ship dropped from Warp ahead of time to adjust her scanners for a better look at her target.

"Shields up." Captain Titor ordered. "Charge Phasers. Load tubes, lock target."

"Shields up." Siriv replied. "Red alert status. All stations report ready."

"I see her." He scowled while a haphazard smile carved across his lips maliciously. In the viewer the tiny dot of white appeared before them that signified he had found his mark. "Magnify."

The image grew to reveal the Asimov, standing motionless in space before them. "They're hailing." Siriv warned in surprise.

"Ignore them." The Captain waved his hand dismissively.

"They're asking us to stand down." Siriv told him without interest.

"We're not here to accept their surrender." Captain Titor reminded his first officer. "We're here to complete our original orders and destroy that damn ship before it can do any more harm."

"Yes Sir!" The Commander agreed.

"Fire."

Two photon torpedoes flashed angrily from the launchers and lashed out with tendrils of energy as they soared silently through space at the small Starfleet patrol vessel.

"They've fired." Commander Crowley closed her eyes in dismay. "Evasive manoeuvres?"

"Tarvor, hold the sensor lock as best you can." The Captain snapped angrily. "Helm, emergency evasive pattern, delta 2. All power to forward shields." The stars streaked away as the little ship pulled herself out of the way of the flaming bolts as they bore down at her. Suddenly the lights dimmed reflexively as the torpedoes clashed violently with the shields. The ship shuddered on her axis as consoles flickered and a flash erupted from a minor system over the bulkhead door.

"What did I say about no surprises?" The Engineer cried out over the intercom system.

"What did I say about no promises?" Captain Franks retorted. "Bring us about and charge Phasers."

"Sir?" The Commander looked over to him with questioning eyes.

"Trust me!" He told her.

"Phasers incoming..." Tarvor warned as the ship shuddered again under the attack from the Section 31 cruiser. "They don't seem to like us very much."

"The feeling is mutual." Sneddon cried out over the wailing emergency klaxons.

"Report..." The Captain barked.

"Shields holding well." The Commander told him with some relief. "All modifications are holding for now."

"Not that they're any good to us unless we're willing to use them." Lieutenant Sneddon grumbled.

"It just got worse!" Tarvor cried out. "Subspace signal shows a dissipating Warp trail and a graviton wake."

"What does that mean?" Commander Crowley shrugged in ignorance.

"Romulans are going to join us in about 5 seconds." Tarvor spelled it out simply for her. "They're preparing to drop cloaks. That means they intend to fire."

"At last!" Captain Franks said with a grin, stepping up from the chair in his enthusiasm. The bridge plunged into silence as the officers turned to face him, afraid that perhaps there had been a little fire behind the smoke and the growing suspicions had a foothold in reality.

"At last... Something I can shoot at." Franks enthused. "Lieutenant Sneddon... I believe our Pulse-phasers are as yet untested?"

"Not for long, Captain." He grinned widely as his fingers danced over his manual targeting controls as before them space began to swim with a hazy distortion.

The Section 31 ship banked hard to starboard in surprise as the Romulan Bird of Prey began to materialise before them. The Asimov adjusted her course to point directly at the new threat. Twin Phaser cannons tucked beneath the flat platform of her hull supporting her tubular nacelles exploded to life spluttering a burst of orange energy into the unshielded vessel as the green hull began to emerge from the invisible shield of gravitons. The bolts connected directly along the wing and flashed angrily as each delivered its broiling energy into the defenceless hull of the alien ship. The plasma feed to the port nacelle was disrupted as the ships safety devices worked their hardest to protect the Romulan vessel from destroying herself.

"Successful test." Tarvor smirked at the huge stricken vessel before them as the ship banked away.

"I may not be able to fire on Section 31..." Captain Franks said with a grin as he folded his arms defiantly over his chest. "...but I know someone who can."

In the reverse angle on the view screen they watched as the stunned Bird of Prey turned her nose-mounted plasma cannon on the interceptor. A white flash of energy licked out, connecting with the Starfleet vessel and lashing over the powerful shields as the Asimov powered away from her line of fire.

"Target their engines and fire." The Captain told his tactical officer firmly. "Disable them only. Do them enough damage to keep them here and pointing away from us."

Lieutenant Sneddon busied himself with complying with the commands before bothering to take the time to acknowledge them. An orange beam cut a swathe from the Asimov's ventral Phaser pad and caught the belly of the Romulan ship. The glowing green engine set in the underside sparked angrily and the nacelles dulled, denied power from the source.

"The Starfleet ship is backing off." Tarvor announced. "They're not sure what to make of all this."

"I can hardly blame them!" Captain Franks smirked.

"Sir... The Romulans..." Tarvor said thoughtfully as he scratched his head. "They have two additional disruptor pads. No launchers fitted."

"So?" The Captain frowned, already guessing as to what his science officer was hinting at.

"They're no threat to us." Tarvor swung his chair around to add dramatic flair to his announcement. "That's a fifty year old ship at its heart with upgrades that over-power her ancient technology."

"We would have faired evenly in a fair fight?" The Captain glanced up beneath pitched eyebrows at the hulking green vessel, a bloated and outdated ship without the ability to back up the threat she presented.

"Section 31?" The Commander began thoughtfully as she began rubbing her chin. "Why would they set out to destroy us? They fired without exchanging a single word of dialogue."

"As if that had always been their intention." The Captain nodded and turned his eyes back to the small vessel as it came about to face them again.

"I don't understand?" Lieutenant Sneddon's eyes remained fixed on the vessel as it cleared the Romulan ship and began to face down on them, her weapons flaring to life. "Does this mean I get to fire on them after all?"

"It might just." The Captain narrowed his eyes to defensive slits as he leant forward on the back of his officer's chair. "Commander, thoughts?" He asked, his words snapping to emphasise their lack of time.

"Under the circumstances..." She said thoughtfully as the torpedo tubes on the other ship glowed brightly ahead of them. "I'd suggest that something is happening quite beyond what we were lead to believe was correct."

"Again!" The Romulan commander cried out in panic. "Activate the device again." The polarised signal again reached out from the belly of the vessel, probing the Asimov with it's invisible fingers.

"It can't just be the range, Sir." The communications officer cried out above the growing terror sinking in around the bridge. "I'm still failing to get the feedback from the Starfleet ship. The device isn't working."

"This can't be..." The first officer rubbed his temples incredulously. "Ever since the Warbirds destroyed the first of this type the device has always worked perfectly."

"I know." The Commander gazed apathetically at the view of the enemy in the viewer while his crew attempted to coax his damaged vessel back to life. "We discovered the weakness in their system. A failing in the sensor programs that were designed to track us, to discover cloaked vessels. We have always been able to enter the computers of these ships ever since and take the advantage."

"Then why?" The officer pleaded helplessly. Why can't we get access to the computers of this ship?"

"We destroyed the first of them many years ago." The Commander sighed. "Perhaps our secret has been discovered. Perhaps they have learnt of our ability."

The Doctor ignored the buffeting of the ship. He leant close to where the grey outline of a body was starting to appear from nowhere. He felt certain he could make out the motionless form before him. It was as if the creature was made of smoke of just the shadow of a living being, projected from some other place into his world.

He watched in silence for a few seconds that dragged into an eternity. He reached out gingerly and ran his index finger through the image that had burnt into his retinas. A cold feeling ran up his spine as the very tip of his senses brushed against the unreal flesh of the noble being that lay in silence before him.

"They're dead." He said grimly to the nurse, his eyes fixed on the vague tendrils of an outline as a tear welled in the corner of his eye. "Tell the Captain that our guests are dead."

"We've taken damage." Commander Siriv shook his head dolefully. "The Bird of Prey's weapons have taken our shields down to 38% with a direct hit. Clearly the Romulans are protecting the Asimov."

"Then why did Franks fire on them?" Captain Titor leapt from his seat as the pulsating red beacon lit the bridge dimly to signal their emergency status.

"Could it be simply that he has lost his mind?" Siriv asked with a frown. "Reports of his stress disorder could easily have been played down by the ship's surgeon. Perhaps our fears for his sanity were not unfounded?"

"Glib!" Titor sneered. "I am unhappy to draw unwarranted conclusions."

"Then what?" The Vulcan officer shrugged.

"We were sent here because Franks is losing control. He has made a bargain with the Romulans. For years every ship of that class has been easy prey to them in battle and now we know why. He has betrayed us somehow. He and his Romulan first officer handed over a way for the Romulans to take some advantage of our own ships."

"I would remind you." Siriv began haltingly. "We only have circumstantial evidence on which we are basing out assumptions."

"Assumptions?" Captain Titor cried out in rage as he turned to his unmoved officer. "An insane officer and a Romulan spy on board a ship known to be at the very heart of a breach in our security?"

"I agree that the conclusions our superiors have drawn are indeed hard to refute." Siriv continued humbly.

"Captain?" Tavor turned his seat as the ship banked away from the dubious Section 31 vessel. "According to my projections the Romulans will be back in control of their vessel in less than three minutes. The Starfleet vessel is on an intercept course."

"I'm thinking..." He snapped back."

"Sir!" Commander Crowley lost her reserved veneer of efficiency in an instant. She leapt from her seat and pressed down on the communicator button at her wrist. "Tavor," she began to the bemused science officer. "How do these Quantum torpedoes work? Is the blast more destructive than a Photon torpedo?"

"By several times." He frowned at her.

"Evacuate the shuttle bay." She ordered into her communicator. "Captain, I have a suggestion."

"This better be good." He smiled back at her.

"It is." She grinned, a rare sparkle in her eye as she spoke.

The Asimov streaked away, vanishing in a blur before them.

"They've gone to Warp." Siriv said dully as if finding the whole thing to be lacking in amusement. "They are exceeding our top speed by a factor of three."

"What?" Titor roared at him accusingly. "That's impossible. That old ship can barely make Warp 8."

"Indeed." He replied calmly. "I can pursue. Should I follow them?"

"Are you joking?" The Captain growled. "Engage immediately."

The cruiser entered Warp as the officer fingers danced over the controls. The screen lit up as the vessel jumped beyond normal speeds and entered the realms above the speed of light.

"Incoming torpedo..." Siriv warned. "They've fired on us."

"Evasive manoeuvres." Titor growled. "Launch emergency counter-measures and increase power to the forward shields."

"Acknowledged." He agreed. "I have target lock on the enemy."

"Fire..." Captain Titor grinned before the viewer exploded as a torpedo streaked away into space before them.

There was a flash. Brilliant white light softly felt its way evenly from the heart of the blast, blooming out into the icy darkness. Then the shockwave followed, a ripping explosive cartwheel of energy licking out from the heart of the eruption that shook the Universe to its very core.

"Report!" Captain Titor said simply.

"The blast registers as a quantum eruption." Siriv read from his readouts. "It was simultaneous with our torpedo blast. The energy signal is consistent with a Warp-core eruption and the Asimov no longer appears on our scopes."

"At last!" Titor relaxed slightly and sat back into his chair. "Franks over-reached himself when he crossed swords with us."

"It appears so..." Siriv agreed earnestly.

"It seems that his fate was sealed when we launched after all." Titor began to himself. "It's not so easy to escape from Section 31. You can only delay the inevitable."

"Yes sir." Siriv nodded. "The Romulans?"

"Leave them." He sneered. "Let them go home. Let them carry word of what happens to traitors of the Federation."

Captain Singh stood in dismay as the cruiser appeared before his vessel. "They're hailing." The communications officer reported. He cast a worried eye to his first officer who flashed an equal look of concern back. She stood at his side as the viewer flashed to the interior of the vessel.

Captain Titor stood before them, a vague smile lighting his face darkly. "I expected to see you." He told them across subspace.

"I couldn't abandon my fellow Starfleet officers quite as easily as my orders." He said with a certain confidence.

"I never thought for a moment that you would." Titor shook his head. He raised his Padd to his gaze as if reading from his notes. "You consider Captain Franks to have been a friend?" He asked softly.

"I do!" The Captain replied defiantly.

"Then I'm afraid I have unfortunate news." Titor glanced back to the bridge of the Ronin. "Captain Franks surrendered himself to the USS Constantine and the vessel was turned over to the Commander. They were intercepted by a Romulan Bird of Prey and destroyed. Captain Franks took his own life aboard the transport ship."

"What?" He asked in dismay, his shoulders hunching under the weight of the news. "I don't..."

"I'm very sorry." Titor continued. "We were too late to assist the Asimov. She was lost with all hands defending the Alpha quadrant."

Captain Singh glowered in silence.

"I can understand your feelings in this matter." Titor told him finally. "Under the circumstances I have chosen not to have this incident added to your record."

The Captain continued to stare in silence. The Commander stepped forward to speak. "The Captain appreciates that." She said simply. "Ronin out."

With her words the screen flashed back to the stars before them.

"You knew they'd follow?" Siriv asked.

"I'm Human, it is our nature." He replied simply.

"Will they believe our cover story?" The Vulcan asked as he set the programs into the computer to depart.

"They will." He nodded. "They will help to tie up all loose ends. It was a good plan from the outset. The Constantine already has the appropriate remains aboard and nobody will show a great deal of interest in the loss of that ship."

"And now?" Siriv asked finally.

"And now..." Titor said with a grin. "I hear the Romulans lost the prototype of a new version of the Bird of Prey to the Klingons. I think I'd like to see what the Klingons managed to do with it."

"Course set, sir." The helmsman said.

"Engage!"

"Well done, Commander." Captain Franks smiled warmly to his first officer as she sat opposite him in the ready room with Tarvor at her side.

"You can think on your feet." Tarvor told her with an impressed expression. "You saved the ship."

"Unfortunately we had to eject the remains of the alien shuttle to do it." Captain Franks noted with a sigh of disappointment.

"It appears that Section 31 believed the Quantum torpedo strike to be our Warp-core over-loading." Tarvor reported. "They never would have detected the Coo'gral ship and our acceleration to Warp 9.9 by the new scale ensured we were far out of range of their sensors by the time theirs registered the blast."

"Well engineer Murfett is less pleased with all this than we are." Franks almost laughed to himself. "There was considerable buckling to the engineering hull from our little stunt. I know he'll cope with repairs."

"We're right back where we started!" Commander Crowley nodded with approval. "The Romulan vessel stayed right where she was for just long enough for us to track back to the exact position."

"An all round success." Franks grinned to her. "As I said, excellent work!"

"Except we now are operating an illegal cloaking device!" Tarvor pointed out.

"Nobody's perfect!" Commander Crowley told him firmly.

"You portray that truth of that admirably." He glowered at her sarcastically. "Captain." He began, glancing back to the imposing form of the man unquestionably in command of the ship. "We are no sporting many upgrades about which the crew have many reservations. We have proved that they work adequately but you still owe us an explanation of your decision to have them installed."

"I owe you?" Captain Franks smiled knowingly. He stood up from his seat and stepped deftly to his private cabinet. From it he brought the bottle of scotch he kept for special occasions and poured three glasses. The Commander regarded hers somewhat suspiciously but accepted the offer in any case. "I think maybe I do, at that."

Captain Franks held up a glass in salute. "The Coo'gral." He said sadly. "...May their sacrifice never be in vain!"

"I'd certainly be interested to hear this explanation." She told him, her face contorting into a grimace as the liquid flashed over her unwary senses.

"They told me something." He began thoughtfully. "Out future is their history. My daughter will one day marry a Starfleet officer. The son of their son will father a man who will also one day serve in Starfleet."

They waited patiently for him to continue.

"We can't face the Cardassians." He told them unreservedly "We have only a fraction of the power we would need but we have only to find them. They told me that too."

"You've lost me." Tarvor admitted.

"There was another ship drawn into the temporal rift from the alternate future." Franks began again his somewhat disjointed tale. "The ship was from less than a century in our own future but is capable of fighting the Cardassians on equal terms. That ship is coming here too."

"A Federation ship?" The Commander asked in interest. The Captain nodded in agreement.

"She is called, the Corinthian." He told them proudly. "She will be commanded by Captain Blake Girling, my great Grandson."

"I see." Tarvor smiled.

"Suddenly the future isn't just a word." The Captain smiled back to him. "Suddenly the future is something tangible and we can't entertain the possibility of failure."

"To the Corinthian..." Commander Crowley raised her glass.

"To the Corinthian." They agreed.

 

- The End -

 

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