Posts by AutoHummer500

Thanks for the welcome.

It's good to see this place back and running, too, thanks to your efforts. It's the first web board I ever joined, so TLR is a special forum for me.

Maybe when I get over my laziness I'll try cleaning up my fanfic....

Ahhh.... Brings back the memories. You may not believe this, and I am not asking you to, but I was the one who made this screenie, using an old account. Back then I thought they were going put it in the screenshot section, but somehow the admins dropped it in the downloads section instead.

I am just wondering if it is possible (via a mod or otherwise), to pull off some of the real world air combat flight maneuvers? And if possible, what do you think will be their effectiveness in space combat?

Say:

The Pugachev's Cobra?
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A Kulbit?
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The Immelmann turn?
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Spilt-S?
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Hmmm.... The only thing remotely similar to this phenomenon was the so-called "Subspace Warp Drive" of the Sabre XR, a Sabre mod featuring a Sabre with more than normal armor and weapons. The "Drive" was activated by killing the engine, then the Sabre XR will coast along at speed 1000, stopping only when the throttle was adjusted.

Imagine a planet turned inside-out, That's how the insides of a Dyson sphere looked like. Oceans, lakes, cities and towns took up any available space on the sphere, presumably settled by it's creators:The Dom'Kavosh.

While any unprepared individual may gasp in awe at the sight of such a structure. I wasn't too surprised by it, as I had seen it in the starmap, and it was exactly as it appeared on the map, only a few trillion times larger.

The sphere enclosed a small, green sun, there were no planets inside-they were most likely taken apart for raw materials to build the gigantic sphere.

Beside the green sun was the Nomad city I saw earlier on the starmap, at the first glance it was little than a large piece of irregular space rock surrounded by other, smaller pieces of space rocks, but beneath it's rocky crust laid sophisticated mechanisms of unknown purposes.

Another beholding sight was the immense Nomad swarm that stood between us and the city, it was obvious that we couldn't destroy them all. The swarm was so thick that it resembled a school of fish found on Earth than anything else.

Our only choice was to charge through and hope that the Tinker Toy works.

"Miller to all starfleet ships," Miles said over the comm, "we must cover the Akira! Osiris, do you think you can punch a hole in their lines?"

"We are on it." Orillion replied, "All wings, engage."

"Akira," Miles said, "you've got the easy job. Just charge right at the city, once you get in range, you know what to do. We will cover you, but don't count entirely on us. Watch yourselves out there."

"Got it." I replied. "Strum, target at will, Alisha, full impulse to the city. Slaavok, I don't care how you do it but the shields must hold!"

The Akira's engines hummed with power as the ship broke it's own speed record, smartly dodging the energy bolts thrown at her. The other starfleet vessels formed a protective cocoon around the Akira, while the Order ships fended the Nomads off.

But the unthinkable happened when we were halfway there. Slaavok suddenly looked up from his instruments and reported a new development that made things nearly twice as hectic.

"Sir. I am picking up an energy signature around the city.... There is a shield around the city, it must be taken down before our device can work."

I struggled to keep myself from swearing aloud.

"Is there a way to shut it down?" Garon asked.

"The shield is powered by the smaller structures around the main city.... I believe that we have to destroy two of these structure before the shield falls."

"Kamel, get Miller on line!" I shouted.

"Yes sir."

"Miles! The city is protected by a shield, we must blow at least two of those smaller rockish things before it goes down and the Tinker Toy can work! We can take care of ourselves, you go and take them down!"

"Understood, all ships, concentrate fire on one of those structures."

Our cover broke off, and we continued on our way, braving wave after wave of Nomads.

We were almost there. The city was in sight, and I could see the blue shield around the main complex. It drew energy from the several large rocks around it, and numerous smaller outcroppings floated around them.

The mere shape of the outcroppings explained it's purpose:They were turrets designed to protect the facility! One quickly turned at us and fired.

We never expected a rock to shoot at us, and so the Akira took the hit square-on.

"Status report!" I yelled.

"Shields holding at 54%, sir!" Garon answered.

"Evasive maneuvers! Pronto!"

Just as we were trying to weave through a whole mess of shooting rocks, Miles and his task force had cut one of the satellites to pieces.

"One more and that's it!" Miles shouted over the comm. "Akira, get in position, we will be done sooner than you think!"

"Roger wilco!" I replied.

"What?"

"Nevermind that, I will explain later. Alisha, take us in range."

"Sir," Alisha protested, "That will make us sitting ducks!"

"We only need to hang in for a few seconds! Slaavok, do whatever you can to keep the shields up!"

"Yes sir."

The Akira aligned her deflector dish at the pinnacle of the city. And eased into a halt.

"I hate being like this, captain." Alisha complained, "we could be blown away any minute."

"Let's hope Commodore Miller's battlegroup makes a more obvious target than us." Garon sighed.

The Nomads of course did notice such an obvious "target" we made ourselves of and tried their very best to exploit it, we were pounded by gigacycles of destructive energy. But the shields held.

Then Slaavok broke out the bad news.

"Sir, we must channel all of our ship's power into the defector grid when we activate the device. Which means we will have no shields."

"Damn." I commented. "Garon, tell the crew to secure themselves and any loose objects!"

"Oh great." Alisha looked as if she was about to strangle herself. "Just great...."

"But we still have armor, maybe it can take a shot or two." Strum offered.

"The prospects are not good but-" I tried to encourage the crew.

"This is Miller, second satellite down!"

"The shield is decreasing in integrity...." Slaavok reported, "We can activate now."

"Then what are you waiting for? DO IT!" I screamed.

The bridge was filled with the ominous sound of the shields lowering.

"We are so gonna die." Alisha whimpered, "Oh we are so gonna die.... Dad, mum, sis.... I loved you."

An energy sheath coated the Akira. It started out transparent, but in seconds grew of a blinding light, I shielded my eyes with my arm.

The hull began jolting, either due to the sheer energy being channeled through the deflectors of being shot at, or both.

The jolting became increasingly violent, I was about to worry for the ship's hull integrity when suddenly....

The sheath melted into a solid beam, coming straight out of the deflector dish, striking the tip of the pinnacle of the Nomad city, then a gigantic rift formed right on top of it.

The Nomads flew into the rift, but not under their own power. It sucked the Nomads in like a black hole, some tried to go against it, but were eventually dragged into the abyss. The rift grew more and more intense, until it turned into a blinding flash, and blinked into nothingness, leaving only us.

I lowered my arm. The bridge was still there. The crew was shaken but were still alive. Alisha slowly put her hands down, and revealed a tearful face-she was so scared that she cried when the Tinker Toy was turned on. Her face then grew red out of embarrassment.

"Well, for once, I did think that I was going to die." I said, partly to relief the tension, partly to state a fact.

Everyone on the bridge (probably except the Vulcan Slaavok) were flooded with emotion, I found myself grinning uncontrollably, before laughing out loud. Some of the crew also laughed, some cried, some both.

"Wohoo!" I threw my arms into the air, "we did it!"

"This is Miller, good job everyone, sensors are picking up no Nomads, I repeat, NO Nomads!" Miles tried to remain official, but he couldn't hide his joy in his jubilant voice.

"Hurrah!" Strum jumped into the air, one arm stretched to the ceiling.

"Watch it, don't punch the ceiling, you may break the ship to pieces." I joked.

"Right.... Captain, against all odds, we've pulled it off." Garon concluded, with all hints of satisfaction in his voice.

Kamel sang a Rigllian victory march to celebrate.

In an wholly unexpected move, Alisha wiped the tears from her eyes, leaped up, grabbed Strum, and kissed him passionately.

It was my turn to be supremely embarrassed. I looked for something to say regrading this situation. It was certain a breach in bridge professionalism and discipline, but who am I to ruin such a happy end to this affair?

At the end, it was Garon who speaked up.

"Alisha, you can save that for later, look, the captain's face is redder that yours."

"Thanks a lot, Garon." I mumbled sarcastically.

The gate was one heck of a ride. The wall of the phase-conduit flashed wildly with light of various colors. The inertial compensators of the Akira couldn't handle the sheer stress and we were glad we were strapped to our seats with seatbelts, and the rest of the crew secured before we entered the gate.

After what seemed forever, the tunnel of dazzling lights finally came to an end. We were deposited on the other side.

When the Dyson sphere was displayed on the viewscreen we were all too awed to speak or move. Directly in front of us was a gigantic wall. We were so close to the sphere, and the sphere so large that we couldn't notice it's curvature and it appeared to be perfectly flat.

The wall seemed to be made of ancient stone, with strange, alien patterns all over it. A section on the sphere was surrounded with strange towers, each kilometers tall. In the center of the array of towers were four circular wells, arranged to form a square with trenched joining the wells. At the middle of the square was a strange, round stone circle.

My instincts told me that that circle was the way in, but I had to be sure.

"Mr. Slaavok, scan that circular object over there!" I ordered.

"Yes sir, scanning."

Out of the blue an energy hemisphere lit up, covering the entry hatch. The center of the wells lit up with pure energy. And then hundreds of Nomad ships decloaked.

"Sir," Slaavok reported, "I am detecting power generators in the four wells providing power to the shield protecting the entryway, which is the circular stone formation under the shield."

"We need to take them out, Kamel, inform the fleet!" I shouted.

"Aye captain!"

Kamel began transmitting the coordinates of the generators to the rest of our ships.

"Damnit, we can't last too long under this sort of fire!" Miles yelled over the comm, "We need to get in, fast, all ships, concentrate on those power generators!"

"Strum, pick a generator and give it all we've got!" I ordered.

"Sir yes sir!"

The Akira hurled a hailstorm of destructive energy at a generator. The Monarch pounded away on another one, Trent led his fighters into the trench, and began gunning at the third generator, the rest of us busied themselves with providing us with cover and taking potshots at the generators.

"Sir." Slaavok said calmly, even amidst the largest furball the whole crew including him had ever seen, "I am reading a breach at the top hemisphere of the generator-"

His report was cut off by a blinding light, a few seconds later it died down.

"One down! Three to go!" Strum could barely contain himself.

Another blinding flash.

"That makes two." Miles said, "Now let's give some due attention to that lone generator out there."

Then another one.

"This is Trent, generator down!"

"Excellent! All ships, focus on the final generator."

The last generator couldn't hold on for long under intense bombardment from every ship in the fleet, soon it gave way to another blinding white light.

"The shield generator is down," called Miles, "I am detecting something.... The hatch is opening up, everyone, get in!"

"Alisha, take us in." I said, bracing myself for whatever that may be on the other side....

The bridge crew were at their positions, all alert and confident, they looked at me at unison, their eyes glittered with encouragement. They nodded at me, and I nodded back to him. We all knew what we had to do.

I slid into the captain's chair. The bridge was neat and tidy, white light reflected off the surface of my console. The Akira was ready and able for everything.

"Red alert! All hands to battlestations!" I shouted.

"Yes sir!" Garon replied, tapping away at his console, everything on the bridge was promptly basked in a dark, blood-red light. "Red alert, shields up!"

"Phasers capacitors charging to full capacity, loading quantum torpedoes in all tubes." Strum reported.

"Sir, Commodore Miller is signaling." Kamel said.

"Everyone, I hope you are ready, we will move out now. Good luck."

"Formation pattern Delta-6, follow the Monarch!" I ordered.

The impulse engines lit up in a bright glow of neon-red.

The asteroids and dust particles of the nebula zoomed past us as we began leaving the nebula. Every sensor in the fleet on sharp lookout for Nomad vessels.

Leading the way were our fighter wings, which were closely followed by the Osiris, with the Monarch and us flanking her.

The nebular gases began to fade, and space ahead began to clear up.

Right in front of us was our first target:The Nomad jumpgate that leads to the outskirts of the Dyson sphere!

It wasn't guarded though, at least it looked so, but we all knew a whole lot of Nomad ships were waiting under their cloaks, ready to stalk us at the first opportunity.

The Nomads were quick to react, as soon as we had the whole gate in clear sight, two Nomad battleships, several gunboats and dozens of fighters decloaked and began firing.

"All ships, break and engage!" Miles shouted over the comm.

"Sturm, attack pattern Zeta-3!"

"Yes sir!"

The Akira banked starboard, evading a stream of bolts from a Nomad battleship. The Thunderchild returned fire, blowing one of it's leafy blades off.

The Akira did a backflip, and snapped a burst of torpedoes off at the battleship, a gunboat got in the way, and was vaporized.

Trent's wing was busy taking on another Nomad battleship with the Osiris providing fire support. The Monarch swooped in from an high angle and let loose with her torpedoes. It was a direct hit, and the battleship was blown in half.

The rest of our ships opened up on the Nomads, and the battle was finished within minutes, with us losing only a few fighters.

That was the easy part, though, the hardest part awaits us on the other side of the gate.

As the dust settled, our fleet prepared to enter the gate.

"This is the Monarch, follow us in."

Well, the Titan is good, the heavy armor can help sometimes, but it has very bad agility (Slight better than that of a freighter). The Sabre is good, with it's front facing turret it can bring some extra firepower which can be crucial in a fight. The Eagle is very agile for a VHF, probably the most nimble VHF out there, but it is not so hot in terms of firepower and protection.

I usually fly a Sabre with hull-breaking guns for all gun hardpoints, and an advanced debilitator for a turret or an Eagle with two Tizona Del Cids (Corsair Class 9 Shield-breaker) and the rest hull-breakers. If I was to fly a titan I would use an similar loadout to that of the Eagle.

For hull-breakers I prefer those Kusari photon blasters with three-digit damage and a refire rate 8.33 (highest in unmodded game).

I remember that "Best-Ship-Treads" like this were once banned during the old times as the arguing there were too intense.

Captain's log, stardate 57776.83

We had managed to evacuate all remaining Order personnel to the Osiris. The Order Base on Toledo now lies in ruins... And now it is time for our final assault.

We had located a Nomad jumpgate that leads directly to the outskirts of the Dyson Sphere housing the Nomad city and the hypergate. It is situated close to our current position, and is the source of the numerous Nomad incursions to the Omicron Major System.

The gate will no doubt be very heavily guarded. But we have to break through no matter what. The fate of the Four Houses of Sirius and the whole Alpha Quadrant lies in our hands.

Once we get into the Dyson Sphere, we will use Trent's artifact, also known as the "The Tinker Toy" to open the hypergate. If all goes well, all Nomad presence in the Sirius Sector will be sucked into the hypergate, and be deposited on the other side.... Where a Klingon Armada await their arrival. While I shudder at the idea of genocide, this is perhaps the only way to end this crisis....

I hate to admit it, but our chances are pretty low on this one, the odds are stacked against us, and we only have the Akira, Monarch, Thunderchild, T'Kumbra, Suruga, Osiris, Walker's LNS Utah and a handful of fighters to save two galaxies.... I am afraid that this may be our final log entry...... Computer, delete previous paragraph.

There is no turning back. Everything hinges on this. We will not fail.

End of log.

The commanding officers of the ships and squadrons gathered on the conference room of the Osiris for a final briefing.

Miles led the Starfleet Captains in, myself, Captains Sornek, Powell, and Johnson followed the Commodore in.

In the middle of the room was a huge table with a holographic tactical screen in the center. Orillion, Trent, King, Jun'ko, Walker, Herr Von Claussen, Lord Hakkera and a couple other people I haven't met before were already in their seats, waiting for us.

We found our chairs and sat down.

Orillion wasted no time in introductions, and got straight to the point.

"Okay, people, here's the deal: The Akira, Commanded by Captain Sy, will be carrying the Tinker Toy, the Starfleet Task Force will cover him while the Osiris and our squadrons will clear they way for the Akira. We cannot fully expect anything except maximum resistance, is it clear?"

There was no need to speak, everyone nodded simultaneously.

"Good, Trent, you will lead Alpha, Jun'ko, you lead Beta, King, you lead Gamma, I will command from the Osiris. We will begin the attack at 1900 hours, so that four hours for you to prepare. Don't screw up. people, dismissed."

Half an hour later I was working with my crew (or more accurately, working my crew) to rig the tinker toy up with the deflector array.

Mr. Chabot was the ship's engineer. He was totally obsessed with his job, and the warp core, according to him. It was his request that his station be placed at the warp core deck, where he is closer to the action, than on the bridge, I granted that request almost instantly, but now I somewhat regretted it, as I had little chance to meet him and knowing him better. Still, he worked admirably, and the rigging up was done in record time- 28.54 minutes.

To congratulate the now exhausted engineering crew, I invited them to the ship's bar to relax.

I didn't feel like chatting with them, though, as a Captain I believed that there's ought to be something other than this that better deserve my attention. But I could find none.

The next two hours passed with me and the crew casually exchanging sentences.

With one hour left, I assembled the bridge crew in the conference room.

"I am not a fan of excessively long meaningless speeches so I will keep this short." I began, "We've been together for only a few months, and we've been thrown into the fire right at our first mission. For an unexperienced crew I have to say that we've done pretty well, but that is nothing to be proud of. One hour later we must outdo ourselves. We cannot afford any mistakes on this one. We must not keep our level of performance, we need to exceed it. If we say that this whole adventure is our trial by fire, then this will be the final examination. So let's get geared up, people. Everyone should do what they can to increase our chances of success. Now let's get going!"

I was the last one to leave the room, Strum promised to optimize the ship's tactical systems. Slaavok will remodulate the shields from the Nomad weapons data we accumulated from previous engagements, so that it will be more effective against Nomad weapons. Alisha went to tune up the ship's maneuvering systems. Kamel worked on figuring out the Nomads' method of communication. Miranda prepped the sickbay for causalities. Chabot ran off to do some last-minute calibrations to the deflectors and the warp core. Drayla and her team readied themselves to repel boarders, if there are any. Garon and I had the most comfortable, yet the most difficult job:Studying the tactics used by the Nomads and develop a counter-tactic.

We watched the replays of past battles all over and over again, from nearly every point of view possible. Trying to find some patterns in their behavior. For minutes we found none, and as time passed we became more frustrated, but just when we were about to give up, suddenly everything resolved themselves.

The Nomad ships work with a certain degree of autonomy, but we knew that in each battle, there must be a commander. And that commander is, surprisingly, not necessarily the most protected ship in the battle, sometimes it could be fighting in the front, sometimes hanging back, and even sometimes pretending to be damaged and disengaging. But still, the Nomads still keep an effort to make sure that no harm is done to the commander, but the escort were too sparse, their patterns too random, for us to notice that they were actually escorts. But still, they managed to do their job effectively.

With this new information, I felt a bit more confident when I went up to the bridge, for the last battle.

(This fic is not dead! Cortical simulators!!)

After materializing in the transport room, I and the pilots hurried off on our separate ways. When I got to the bridge, Trent and Co. had already launched.

"Status report?" I requested.

"At least six Nomad battleships, sir," Strum answered, "they are really going to force their way through this one."

"Not good, definitely not good." I commented, "Strum, engage at will, don't save on those quantum torpedoes."

"Yes sir!"

Strum picked a target and fired.

A full burst of Quantum torpedoes flew out of the weapons pod, found their mark, and struck one of the gigantic, ghostly, jellyfish-like starships. It began leaking some sort of liquid through the gaping wound the torpedoes made. I wondered what that liquid was, high energy plasma? Coolant? Blood?

"Direct hit!" Strum shouted.

"This is Miller to all ships, we have to cover those transports evacuating the planet, Akira, pull back, forget about that battleship, it's not in range to intercept our transports."

"You heard him, Alisha, bring us closer to the convoy."

"But sir!" Strum argued, "We are almost done with it."

"It ain't going anywhere at this shape anyway," I reasoned, "let's leave it here, the convoy is more important."

"Okay sir."

A convoy transport was under heavy bombardment from a battleship, the Akira swooped in between them and shielded the transport from further blasts.

"Strum, fire!" I ordered.

Pylons of light rose from the hull of the Akira and stabbed into the Nomad battleship.

It was a spectacular lightshow but not much damage had been done.

"Sir! Their skins are too thick, the phasers will have a hard time punching through!"

"Torpedoes?"

"Still loading, 25 seconds left!"

We didn't have twenty-five seconds. Our shields couldn't last long under such intense fire.

"Strum, set phasers to maximum! Try to hit it right at that glowing bit there, it may be it's weakness!"

"Aye, sir!"

The next phaser strike managed to penetrate the thick skins of the battleship, but only a feeble beam managed to hit the interior of the battleship.

It was a mere pinprickle to the giant, but it was a pinprickle to the heart.

"Sir! The energy signature of the battleship is fluctuating drastically. Interior pressure dropping rapidly.... It is unable to maintain integrity." Slaavok said.

"Well, target destroyed!" Strum concluded.

The whole battleship began glowing, until it was brighter than the core of a sun, then it exploded into trillions of microscopic fragments.

"Thank you, Akira, we owe you one." The captain of the stricken transport said.

"Don't mention it, just get to the Osiris at your best speed." I replied.

"Understood."

The raging fire in space seemed to die down, perhaps we've won? And the evacuation could be called off.

"Sir," Kamel said, "the Monarch is signaling. Onscreen."

"This is Miller, I think the Nomads are beaten back for now, we've taken down most of the battleships, and-"

All hopes of victory were shattered as another, larger Nomad armada decloaked. They were determined that today is the last day the Order will resist them and foil their plans.

"Forget that," Miller sighed, "all ships engage!"

"Sir, we are being hailed by the Order base, onscreen."

"Captain Sy," Orillion said, behind him were Order personnel hastily evacuating the base, "we have managed to complete the tinker toy weapon, come and beam it up. I and the remaining personnel will take the last transport."

"Understood. Alisha, standard orbit." I ordered.

"On it."

"This is the Monarch," Miles barged in, "Akira, we will cover you. Orillion, are you done down there? We can't hold on for long!"

"Five more minutes is all I need."

"All right, we will try."

Within seconds we had achieved orbit and transported the 'Tinker Toy' to our cargo hold. Our fleet couldn't stop the sea of Nomad vessels and some smaller ships had managed to break through our blockade and began strafing targets on the planet.

"Orillion, watch out!" Miles called, "One of the battleships' in orbital bombardment range!"

On cue a blue lance of pure energy streaked out of the tip of that particular battleship, and hit the Order base. Dead center.

"Damnit!!!" I shouted, "Orillion, can you hear me?!"

"I am safe and onboard the last transport. We had escaped at the nick of time." He was unusually calm after such a close call.

"Good." I wiped the sweat off my forehead, "Let's get out of here."

"All ships enter formation pattern Delta-2." Miles announced, "I am uploading destination coordinates."

We were led into a small chamber deep underground in the Order Base. President Jacobi, Orillion, Commodore Miles, Captains Powell, Sornek, Johnson of the Thunderchild, Quintaine and Sinclair were waiting for us.

The chamber was roughly hexagonal shaped. Alien parchments, sealed between two layers of glass, were placed in a circular pattern around the room. A circular platform in the middle of the chamber took up much of the space of the room. A sophisticated scientific instrument was mounted on one side of the platform, Sinclair was working on it's controls, and was too concentrated to notice our arrival. In the middle of the platform, sitting on a tripod, was Trent's artifact. The very thing that sparked the whole crisis.

"Welcome, people, you are just in time." Orillion said, "I will leave Doctor Quintaine to explain the rest."

"Thank you." The doctor began, "What we are looking at is an ancient Dom'Kavosh device that is capable to trigger what we call a hypergate, and doubled as a starmap to all sectors known to the Dom'Kavosh. By modifying the phase variance of the pulse signal used to activate the hypergate, the Nomads could be thrown to another gate, galaxies away. it will take them millions of years just to return to Sirius Sector-"

"Please," Jacobi pleaded, "I am just a simple politician."

"All this technobable is making my head spin." Powell added.

Quintaine paused for a moment, pondering how to express the complex theories in a layman way.

"In simpler terms," Sinclair said, "it will transport all of the Nomads to a galaxy far, far away."

"I remember hearing that somewhere." I commented.

"From some holonovel, I suppose." Miles answered.

"Ah yes."

"We want you here, though, is to let you see this..." Sinclair said, and typed something into the control panel.

The lights in the chamber darkened.

A purple beam of light shot out of the scientific instrument, striking the artifact, it began to glow and hummed loudly.

Jacobi stepped back, fearing that the artifact might do something silly, for example, explode.

The rest were too awed to move.

The humming continued to grow in intensity, almost to the point of being unbearable. Then purple rays shot out from the artifact in random directions, barely missing us.

Soon the rays found their mark on the parchments, and the beams grew steady, from aimless bursts to focused solid beams. As the each beam stroke the parchments, strange symbols began forming on them.

I was examining one of the parchments when I suddenly felt very numb, and fell onto the floor, unconscious.

I woke up minutes later, absolutely unsure about what had happened with me. Miles helped me up. And I was still inside the chamber.

"What happened?" I asked.

"One of it's beam hit you." He answered, "It did yield us something interesting, though."

A holographic starmap floated above the artifact. With the strange symbols I saw on the parchments denoting star sectors. One particular sector was pulsating with light. Quintaine pointed at it.

"This, is where we are." He stated. He then did something to the controls so that it began zooming. Before long, I could make out a familiar star system-Omicron Major.

In orbit of a holographic version of Toledo were small models of the Osiris, Monarch, Suruga, Akira and the Thunderchild.

"Impressive." Orillion said.

"What's more impressive lies ahead." Quintaine said, excitement in his voice.

The holograph panned to an obscure part of the system, and veiled behind a nebula, was a strange triangular object. At such a diminished size, it could fit in my palms, but the real thing must be immense, as even the holographic Monarch was only slightly longer than my little finger.

"This is the Dom'Kavosh jumpgate that leads to the hypergate." Quintaine said.

The holograph zoomed out, then zoomed into a sphere. At first we thought it was a planet, but soon it became clear that it was a gigantic structure with a radius of several Astronomical Units.

It was a Dyson Sphere.

The holograph panned again, went through a large door on the side of the sphere. Inside was a whole system, a green sun provided illumination, and monolithic pieces of rock formed some sort of space Stonehenge around a moon-sized, again rock like, structure.

"May I present you.... The hypergate."

"So that's it?" King asked.

"No...." Sinclair muttered, "Something's strange.... The gate seems to have a pre-set destination.... I wonder what it is...."

She began tapping the controls.

The holograph flashed and flickered, then showed another image of the interior of a Dyson Sphere, but the sun was different, it was yellow, and I could recognize it as a Type-G star.

And a large fleet was prowling inside the sphere.... Upon closer inspection, the ships were Klingon! This was the very Sphere in which the Enterprise-D found the USS Jenolan in!

"What are the Klingons doing there?!" Powell asked.

"They knew that the Nomads will come again," Miles answered, "and after our alert, had sent a large fleet to 'Welcome' them."

On cue, the chamber shook and we heard a rather loud and disturbing rumble. A Order lieutenant rushed into the room, breathless.

"Sir! We are under attack! It's the Nomads! They've come in force! Six battleships!"

"What?!" Orillion swore softly under his breath, "Evacuate the base! Land the transports at the Osiris."

"We've got to return to our ships! Miller to Monarch, one to beam, energize!"

"All right, pilots," I said, "this is it, get a Gryphon and do what you can! Akira, four to beam, energize!"

"Incoming broadcast!" Kamel shouted, "It's the Monarch! Audio only."

"All ships, the Nomads are determined to blow the Order base straight to hell, and we must not let that happen. The base shields and defense systems can hold the smaller crafts off, but those bloody battleships are going to raze the base if nothing is done! Concentrate fire on the Nomad Battleships!"

Although Miles seemed calm, his use of swear words had betrayed his fear. And if even one of Starfleet's best Commodores got frightful, it was obvious that we were in deep, hot waters.

"There are three battleships bombarding the planet, our ships are engaging two of them while one of them is free from fire. Your orders, sir?" Strum asked.

"Fire at the nearest Nomad battleship," I ordered, "hit them fast and hard, throw whatever we have at it!"

"Yes sir!"

Our target happened to be the battleship that was not engaged by our forces. The battleship's escorts were drawn into battle and left us with a golden chance for an attack run.

The Akira dived into battle, her phasers blazed and quantum torpedoes streamed out of her numerous torpedo tubes.

The Nomad Battleship began buckling from the intense fire. One of it's leafy blades was blown off. But the main hull held.

Strum turned the ship about for another attack run.

"We are going to get him this time!" He promised.

And he kept the promise. Intense Phaser bursts bore a large hole at the Nomad ship's outer hull, exposing the delicate internal organs of the living starship. Four quantums finished the job, and the battleship erupted into a blinding flash.

The rest of the Nomad ships charged their cruise engines and retreated.

"Good work," Miles applauded, "Akira, it was a feat blowing the battleship without help. We took the other two down, and the Nomads, left without a battleship, instantly turn tail and ran."

"This also seems to conform to our theory that Nomad battleships serves as the command and control vessels of the Nomad Armada," he continued, "without their guidance, the lesser Nomads will quickly scatter and retreat."

"We are being hailed by the Order base, sir," Kamel informed, "onscreen."

The starfield on the viewscreen flickered into Quintaine standing in a lab in the Order base.

"Everyone," he said, "we had figured out how to turn this tinker toy into a weapon. Akira, bring us the power cell. And please hurry, the Nomads will attack again soon, and I doubt if we can hold this time."

"In that case," Orillion said, "I will have to arrange for the evacuation of the Base."

"We will assist in any way we can," Miles offered, "just ask."

"Thank you. Akira, we had sent coordinates for your transporters to transport the cell to."

"Coordinates received, sir, standing by for transport." Kamel said.

"Go ahead." I replied.

"Lowering shields.... The Nomad power cell had been successfully transported."

"All right." I sighed and collapsed into the Captain's chair. "I am getting a little tired of this. I got into Starfleet to see the stars, the wonders of the universe, magnificent nebulae, shimmering stars and natural beauties like that, not to get myself caught in a tangled mess of conspiracies and combat."

"Don't worry, Captain," Garon reassured, "this is going to be over soon, if we can get the tinker toy weapon to work, the Nomad threat will be neutralized, and we can get back to exploration."

"What if we can't?" I argued, "We don't even know what exactly it does, and-"

"Captain," Slaavok cut in, "I had received details of Professor Quintaine's research, the artifact is technically not a weapon that destroys the Nomads, instead, it is able to activate a Hypergate and forcefully transport all of them to a random hypergate. This process is damaging and even lethal to some of the weaker Nomads, but the stronger ones will be able to survive."

"Then some day they will find their way back," I said, "and haunt us again."

"I believe the Order will stand guard and stop any Nomad incursion should there be any." Garon answered.

I sighed again, "I need a rest.... Garon, you take the bridge. I am going to the bar."

After a turbolift ride, I walked into the bar, and asked Forjor for a glass of cold water. I spotted Intrepid Trio sitting around a large table at the edge of the bar. Drinks in their hands, I made my way towards them.

"So...." I asked, "Did you like the Gryphons?"

"I had expected that question." Jun'ko replied, "the controls are a bit weird, but otherwise flying it was a breeze. I had to thank you for lending us these ships. I can list out many close calls that could have killed us back there, if we flew in our own fighters."

"I had fallen in love, Captain," Trent said, "and I can't get myself out of it."

"Hell yeah, she's a lifesaver." King sipped from his glass, "Too bad it was loaned equipment, she's way better than my Patriot."

"Ha," Trent snickered, "who's flying a pile of junk now?"

King's face cycled through several different shades or red, his held up his fists.

"What did you say?!" He hissed like a overloading warp core.

I decided to take action before the situation escalates into a full-blown, all-out bar brawl.

I stood between the two men, barring King from landing punches on Trent.

"Now, I don't accept bar fights occurring on board our ship," I warned, "at least not in my watch. Stop at once or I am forced to deport you two from the Akira."

King shot a murderous glance at me, and slumped back in his seat like a defeated Klingon.

I then turned to Trent. "Now, Mr Trent, if you don't want to get a punch right at the face, please watch your words next time."

Trent merely rolled his eyes and returned to drinking. It was then I noticed that his drink was a Vintage Romulan Ale. Where he got that I didn't know. And I didn't want to know.

I found an empty chair and dragged it the the Trio's table.

"So, what were you talking about when I arrived?" I asked.

"Well, mostly talking about ourselves, more specifically our past." Trent answered, "I used to be a mechanic on Leeds before I took to the stars. I couldn't just sit on a planet fixing people's ships while new alien artifacts are being discovered in the Edge Worlds. I took my life savings, bought a ship, and set off to look for wealth, glory, stuff like that.... Then came my life's worst blunder, as if fate wanted to torture me."

"What was it?" I asked.

"I managed to secure what I thought was the deal of a lifetime... A Samura freighter was hauling several tons of boron around. But wanted the profit for himself. I brought the boron with the rest of my savings, and planned to sell it for a ludicrous profit. Well, I suppose I am condemned to a hard life. I had found someone who will buy it for a million credits, and the deal took place in Freeport 7."

"So you were one of the Freeport 7 survivors.... Wait...." I remembered seeing him somewhere before.... No... twice. "Were you present on the Akira when we rescued the survivors from Freeport 7? And the confrontation between us, a Brandon Rowlett, and three heavily armed Defenders?"

"Yep."

"I see.... Interesting.... Let me tell you people my story." I took a gulp of water, then began, "I entered Starfleet Academy when I was 17, and majored medical. After I graduated, I was made the Chief Medical Officer, CMO, of a Starfleet ship called the Antares. She was a old Constitution Class Starship, but refitted with the newest technology available. I and my captain had many great adventures together."

"The turning point of my career what was known as the K-7 Accident. The Antares was at final approach to Starbase Deep Space K-7 when her naviagional computer suddenly went wary. Despite the helmsman's efforts, the Antares smashed into the side of the station. I was in the sickbay, filling in a few reports as that happened. After overcoming the initial shock, I went on and did what I had to do-I grabbed a few medkits, and rushed along with the medical crew to the wounded's aid."

"We managed to save 36 lives that day. And every medical crew that participated in the rescue of the station's crew were awarded the Christopher Pike's Medal of Valor and got an official commendation. I was immediately promoted to Commander in addition to that. But even now, I felt it was a bit superfluous. All I did was what I had to do-the very duties of a Medical Officer, I was merely doing my job."

"The Antares, sadly, was beyond repair, and we became crews without a ship. Most of us found new assignments within a few months, but I had other plans-I decided to take command of a starship-I returned to the Academy again, this time studying Command Track. As I was already a Starfleet officer, I could skip many courses and exams, and I finished the whole course six months later. Then I got promoted to Captain, and was assigned with the Akira-this ship. This is her first mission, and we had already stepped into the hailstorm."

I was about to elaborate my adventures on the Antares when my combadge beeped.

"Captain Sy here."

"Captain," Garon said, "Orillion wants all commanding officers, Trent, Mrs. Zane and King to meet him in the Order Base. It's urgent."

"Got it. Computer, four to beam, to Toledo Order Base, energize."

I took a turbolift to the bridge.

"All right!" I shouted, "Everyone to their stations, let's keep our eyes open for any Nomad presence. Mr. Slaavok, how much time do we have?"

"Approximately nine minutes."

"We have no time to waste, launch the fighters!"

The shuttlebay doors of the Akirs slid open, and three Gryphons flew smoothly out of it.

"Trent," I said into the comm. "you have only nine minutes, we will keep you informed of the status of the jumphole, just go and do what you have to do. Good luck! Akira out!"

The three fighters flew away and disappeared into the jumphole, I slumped down in my seat.

"I hope that that's I am not sending them on a suicide mission." I said.

"It is our only chance, they are the best candidates for the mission, the choice is logical." Slaavok reasoned.

"I certainly hope so."

"Mrs. Kamel," I ordered, "begin monitoring the commlinks."

"Yes sir.

Within seconds we were in sync with the squadron's radio traffic.

"This is Trent, we are through, everyone's right. Now heading to the Nomad lair, no boogies."

"Good." I said, "I hate to state the obvious but keep your eyes open."

"Got it, Trent out."

"Boogies? Sir?" Alisha asked.

"A slang term used by pilots," I explained, "it means hostiles."

"Okay."

"Wow...." King gasped, "Look at the size of that thing."

The Nomad lair.... Large as expected.

"Wait a minute, what are those.... Nomads! They're everywhere!"

"It's an ambush!" Jun'ko yelled in shock.

I shifted uneasily in my seat, I looked at the status readouts of the three fighters. They were taking fire but the shields held. I glanced over the remaining time.

"Eight minutes, people." I informed.

"I am detecting an way in...." King mused, "But it's heavily shielded.... Trent, there are three shield generators along the perimeter of the lair, destroy them, and perhaps that will bring the shield down."

"On it."

A few mini-quantum torpedoes later, the first generator was destroyed.

"First generator is down," Jun'ko said, "I am detecting a drop in the power of that shield, two more to go!"

"Seven minutes." Garon reminded.

A few rounds of strafing was all it took to take another generator down.

"Hurry!" I shouted, "One more to go! Six minutes left!"

Strum suddenly bolted straight with surprise.
"Captain," he said, "we are in trouble. Two Nomad gunboats with full escort, incoming!"

"I had expected that, open fire!"

"The last generator is down!" Trent shouted in joy, "I am going in, hang on guys."

The Akira fired a full spread of quantum torpedoes, several missed and hit the asteroids which were in abundance in this area of space. But the rest puntured the outer membranes of a Nomad gunboat and the detonation turned it inside out. Organic fragments splattered all over the asteroids, and some bounced off the Akira's hull harmlessly.

The Nomads opened up and several shots hit the Akira, the bridge jerked slightly.

"I've got the power cell," Trent said, "now let's run!"

"You'd better hurry," I urged, "2 minutes! And we've got trouble at this side."

The Akira literally fried a wing of Nomad fighters, their organic bodies sizzling as the water content in the ships were forcefully turned to vapor.

"We are almost there!" Jun'ko yelled.

"Ten seconds!" Garon screamed.

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

"Seven!"

"Six!"

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!

"One!"

The wormhole gave a blinding flash, then disappeared.

In it's place were our three fighters.

"Just at the nick of time!" Trent said.

I sighed in relief, "Good work! Get back to the Akira and let's get the blazes out of here."

"Would be glad to," Trent offered, "but why don't we take those fighters down for you first?"

"Be my guest." I replied, after all, he was one of the best, if not the best, pilot in the whole Sirius Sector.

With Trent's help the battle ended swiftly, with victory on our side and defeat, obviously, on the other. After we had dispatched the last Nomad vessels, we began our return trip.

But when we were approaching Toledo orbit, we saw a startling sight.

A Nomad Armada had decloaked and began bombarding the Order base, ignoring any vessels that stood in their way.

Captain's log, stardate 57773.99
The Akira is now on course to a distant star system in order to retrieve a nomad power cell. The power cell is at an abandoned Nomad outpost located deep in a treacherous nebula. We had found a jumphole that could bring us there in a remote, faraway corner of the Omicron Major System, we can not warp there due to the dense asteroids there and had to fall back on impulse, it will take us several hours on impulse to go from Toledo to the jumphole.

We had to hurry, though, the phase-flux of the jumphole is destabilizing rapidly and we have a very limited amount of time to get to the outpost, take the cell, and get out. The jumphole's size also decreases as it destabilizes, and from our estimations, it can only allow the safe transaction of small, shuttle-sized ships when the Akira reaches the jumphole. And thus, we had rallied our very best fighter pilots: Trent, Jun'ko, and King to execute the mission.

The Suruga happened to carry with her a squadron of Gryphon Class Fighters, but without anyone to pilot them. So I had insisted that we loan these crafts to our three pilots. Although intel indicates that the base is very likely abandoned, I had a bad feeling about this mission, it could very likely be a Nomad trap, and we have to give Trent and his squadron the best shot for this mission.

The Akira will deploy our pilots, and monitor the operation from our side of the jumphole, while the rest of our fleet stands by on orbit of Toledo, and will move to assist us should we get into trouble.

I sincerely wish our pilots good luck.

End of log.

I examined the Gryphon Class Fighters Powell sent us as I waited for Trent, Jun'ko and King at the shuttlebay. I ran my hands lovingly on one, enjoying the smooth hull of the fighter craft.

Powell was a nice man, and he had sent us his whole complement of Gryphons along, instead of just three that I had requested. He claimed that the extra crafts were for 'insurance', in case if any of them failed to function. But I could hardly imagine any malfunctions with those sleek crafts of unearthly beauty.

Each of the six fighters sitting in the shuttlebay radiated an air of competence, each silently awaiting their mission, and were determined to complete it with the utmost skill, valiance and courage.

I was so attracted to the Gryphons that I failed to notice the trio's ships landing on the shuttlebay, I was pulled back from my fantasies of piloting one when Trent tapped my shoulder.

"What are these?" He asked, and began muttering to himself. "I think I had fallen in love. As long as I don't have to get electrocuted, shot at, had jump out of windows, and get skewered by some strange Nomad incubi just to fly her it should be all right.... No... I am willing to go through all of above just to get a chance to fly with her."

"Gryphon Class Tactical Fighters," I stated, "with mini quantum torpedoes and pulse phasers as weapons, regenerative shielding and ablative armor for defense, and are warp capable."

"Groovy ships." King said, "Beats the hell out of any of ours.... I do envy you some times."

"Well, no more envying for you, people," I announced, "you will fly these ships for this mission."

I swear I could see their eyes brighten up and open wide.

"Wow...." Jun'ko exclaimed, "But.... We don't know how to fly them."

"The controls are more or less the same as your colonial ships, joysticks, throttle, buttons.... Nothing you can't handle." I assured, "Come, I am going to show you how to fly this babe."

I led them to the holodeck.

"What is this place," King asked, "a room with grid lines for wallpaper?"

"The 'wallpaper' is actually holoemitters. Watch." I tapped on a panel on a wall console, found the program I wanted, and activated it.

The holodeck dissolved into the shuttlebay of the Akira, four Gryphons were lined up for launch.

"Damned advanced technologies...." Trent gasped.

"Now," I announced, "the lesson begins."

"Wait," Jun'ko asked, "you know how to fly a fighter?"

"Yes, I took it as a hobby during my academy days."

"Great," Trent said sarcastically, "Sunday fliers."

"And you will be flying with one hand and flipping through the manual with the other if you don't pay attention." I retaliated, "Of course, all this plus dozens of Nomad fighters hot on your tail."

Trent decided to shut up and pay attention. Within hours they made surprising progress and were able to fly the Gryphons even better than their own ships.

We even had some time to take a rest at the bar as the Akira was still several lightseconds away from the jumphole and needed about half an hour to cover the distance.

I showed Trent a table, he looked rather uneasy.... Perfect.

"Take a sit." I commanded, and went over to Forjor, the bartender.

"Give me the Secret Weapon." I ordered.

Forjor went and rummaged at the bar counter. He produced a bottle and handed it to me.

"Thank you." I grabbed the bottle, and held it behind my back. I walked to Trent. He looked up at me, and I could read fear all over his face.

"There's no escape this time." I stated flatly, I placed the bottle in front of him. He examined the blue liquid in the bottle, smelled it, and withdrew his head.

"It's strong." He complained.

"I know. Drink."

"You've gotta be kidding, I can't fly drunk."

I showed him a hypospray.

"No worries." I grinned evilly.

Trent sighed, and downed the liquid. He choked on it, spat some of it out, tears filled his eyes, he tried to scream but couldn't, he clutched his throat in pain, bent over, and laid twitching on the floor.

I injected the hypo in him, and he soon got his senses back.

"Holy! What the heck was that?!" Trent asked.

"Romulan Ale. Strongest drink in the galaxy."

"If I made it back alive," Trent muttered, "I am going to need a whole crate of these."

My combadge beeped.

"Captain Sy here."

Garon's voice came through. "We are at the jumphole, sir."

I turned to the Intrepid Trio.

"It's time to scramble!"

Captain's log, stardate 57770.78
We are now in orbit of the icy planet of Toledo, the secret base of the Order. We had finally got in touch with Doctor Sinclair and Professor Quintaine, and their newest results on Trent's artifact. They believed that it is some sort of an ancient, alien starmap of a vast network of hypergates, gigantic interstellar conduits capable of transporting ships and even fleets at speeds exceeding transwarp, these gates, along with the artifacts, and the Nomads, were constructs of a long-vanished empire that occupied this area of space called the Dom'Kavosh.

The Nomads were the organic guardians and servants of the Dom'Kavosh, made with advanced genetic engineering. They were made to fiercely defend their masters' space at all cost, and with any measures. Their masters had gone since gone, but their genetic programming still prompted them to be constantly vigilant for any intruders. Unfortunately, the Rhineland expedition had triggered them, the Nomads, now awaken from their centuries long slumber, they now see any human as their enemy, and sought to destroy them.

It not known where the Dom'Kavosh had disappeared into, or why they chose to disappear, but the evacuation was hasty, leaving many artifacts and ruins scattered around in the Sirius sector. One of them is Trent's map.

The map also served as a key to the hypergate, and our scientists think that it can be used to remove the Nomad threat, but first, we need a source to power it. Any generator the Order could offer were not compatible, and the same was the case with our power sources. So we have no choice but to find a suitable power source-a Nomad power cell. But locating one, let alone retrieving one, is almost impossible. Orillion had sent his people to search at likely sites, at the meantime, I am going to catch some much-needed shore leave, and take the chance to visit Toledo.

End of Log.

I beamed down on the landing pad of the Order base, a stinging gust of wing blew at my face, and I instantly regretted my last sentence of my log entry. It was so cold that it seemed no amount of extra clothing would help. I hurried into the main section of the base, which was built into a cliff and completely sealed from the outside environment.

An android welcomed me into the base. These androids had no skin coating nor they are similar visually to humans, They were dumb machines equipped with only slow electro-optic CPUs and whatever it needed to do it's job and no more.

"Unidentified individual," it said, and pointing a pulse rifle at my stomach, "scanning.... Attire unknown.... Visual profile unknown.... State your intentions at once."

"I am here to...." My mind raced to formulate an acceptable reply, "Errm....Visit your base?"

"Access granted, please note that visitors are not allowed into base operations and command."

"Okay...." I smiled a wan smile at it, but it either failed to notice or didn't find the need to reply.

I strode off in another direction and walked straight into president Jacobi.

"OW!" I cried, then realized that it was me who bumped into someone, not the other way around, "Oh.... Sorry, I am terribly sorry."

Then I realized that I had indiscriminately walked into the President of Liberty. And I was in extreme trouble, her bodyguards would swarm up all over me with stun batons and....

"Hello captain, it is my pleasure to meet you here!"

"I can see the headlines now.... Starfleet captain assaults president! Then Starfleet decides to pull another Operation Retrieve, then there will be war! All out war between Liberty and the Federation, millions will die, trillions will lost their homes and loved ones, all because of-"

A snowball hit me at my head. I turned at the general direction of the thrower and saw Miles, standing beside a bulkhead, another snowball in his hand.

"That'd calmed you down, eh?" He snickered, then turned to Jacobi. "Madam, don't mind him, he's like that sometimes, what I call a 'Brain Overheat'."

"Yes...." I said, "That worked pretty well, where did you got that snow?"

Miles opened the bulkhead, extended his right arm out into the blizzard, retracted it, and began packing the snow accumulated on his hand into another snowball. He discarded the two snowballs by throwing them outside, closed the bulkhead, and turned at me. We shook hands and I was unpleasantly reminded how cold Miles' hands were.

"Got you." He chuckled, "Now, why don't we go find a place to sit down and talk, the president here had just done inspecting the Monarch and you may be the next. I can tell that she seems eager to know you more."

"I am not going to get myself into something that sordid." I declared, and together, we made our way to the bar.

There we were joined with all of the Captains of Miles' taskforce, Captain Powell and Orillion. We found a table and sat down.

Powell looked particularly concerned, as if he had something that he must say.

"Good Day, President Jacobi, Commodore Miller, Captain Sy, I have to cut short on the courtesies and get straight to the point, and I hope you can understand. We had shared our data on the Nomads and the Dom'Kavosh with the Klingons, and we've got startling news."

"What news?" Miles asked.

"Please, sir, let me finish. Now.... Where was I? Oh yes, people, had you ever heard of the Hur'q?"

We shook our heads in unison and confusion.

"No.... Well, they were a race of aliens who invaded Qo'noS approximately a thousand years ago. When they were forced out, they took with them many Klingon treasures, including the Sword of Kahless.

We sent the data regrading the Artifacts, Dr. Sinclair's parchments, and the Proteus Tome to the Klingons. The scripts written on those papers match Hur'q letters. In other words, the Dom'Kavosh are the Hur'q.

Ancient Klingon texts had also described a 'Dishonorable Servant' of the Hur'q that are almost identical with the Nomads. Among the mentioned are bio-organic starships, their ability to possess their enemies' top officers, and a weapon of incredible power-a star-destroyer that can cause a star to undergo a premature nova, destroying all in a star system."

We gasped in horror at the revelation.

"But somehow they didn't use the weapon against the Klingons, instead, they retreated, and were not heard form ever since."

"Are there any reasons?" I asked.

"Unknown. But if the Klingon texts are credible, we may have a huge crisis at our hands. The Nomads could activate the Star-destroyer, and take it on a rampage."

One of Orillion's men whispered something into his ear, and he immediately turned to us.

"We had found the Nomad power cell." He said.

I woke up in the sickbay, feeling absolutely drowsy and dizzy. All was blurry, and I couldn't make anything out. The pain was gone now, and I knew my wounds were repaired. I blinked a few times, and my eyesight cleared out enough that I saw a gray shadow, perhaps that of someone, moving. It waved something in front of me, it said something but I could only hear muffled voices.

"....an you hear me?"

I recognized that voice as Dr. Miranda.

"Yes." I answered fuzzily. Then something urgent suddenly came up my mind.

"How long I was out? How's the mission? How's the president?!"

"Relax, captain, you was out for just 15 minutes, the president is safe, and everyone's all right. We are about to leave the station now."

"I need to get back to the bridge." I stepped out of the biobed I was lying on, and promptly fell over.

"The anesthetics hasn't completely worn off." Miranda helped me to a chair, "Please take a rest."

I refused and tried walking.

"Captain!" Miranda ordered, "You are unfit for command! You won't do any good at the bridge anyway! Please stay here!"

"I am all right." I said, and limped out of the sickbay.

"Security! Restrain the captain before he hurts himself!"

Two security officers rushed in and grabbed my arms.

"I am sorry sir." One of them said, and dragged me back into the sickbay.

"Look, can we make a compromise?" I offered, "You can monitor me all you want, all I want is to be present on the bridge."

Miranda mused over this for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that this may be the best option.

I made my way toward the bridge with the help of the two security officers that once tried to restrain me. I was put on a stretcher, on Miranda's orders, to save me from stumbling and falling on my way.

I stood up from the stretcher, and fell into Commander Garon's empty chair, as he was sitting in my chair, as acting captain.

The Taskforce was ready to leave, the president safe aboard the Monarch. When suddenly dozens of unidentified signatures flooded our sensors.

"ID those ships!" Garon ordered.

"Commander," Strum called out, "it's the Nomads, their power signatures match! More ships are decloaking, fast!"

"Damn, I knew it was all a trap! Phasers, full spread!"

Several streams of hot particles literally cooked the Nomad fighters, turning them into a sickening, opaque green instead of their normal, semi-transparent neon-blue.

"The whole place is lit up!" King said, and it was true, dozens of Nomad fighters rained destructive energy on our ships. Their numerous energy pellets lighted space up like Christmas lights. It would be a pretty romantic scene if the pellets were harmless. But they were not.

"This is the Monarch, the Thunderchild and T'Kumbra are reporting a large Nomad-Liberty Fleet is entering the system, they can hold the New York side of the gate, but not for long, we have only about 15 minutes. All ships, full speed to the gate!"

"You heard the man," Garon shouted, "Alisha, full impulse!"

In such situations, normally we could have warped, but we had to cover Walker's warp-incapable cruisers and in such a dense asteroid field, warping would end us horribly-our bodies and bits and parts of the Akira will end up skewered on the spikes on the asteroids. Not to mention that the thick nebula will simply interfere with our warp drives.

We began hastily retreating. The Monarch and Akira provided covering fire to buy time for Walker's cruisers to charge their cruise engines. After several seconds, the cruisers and their escort entered cruise speed. We followed tightly, on full impulse, into the passage. The Nomads proceed to give pursuit, but fortunately, we were much faster and had too much of a headstart.

We were safe, for now.

"What do we do when we reach the gate?" Jun'ko asked.

"We have no choice but to break through." Walker said, "All I can say, is to brace for the worse, and hope for the best."

"The situation is extremely unfavorable for us, Captain," Miles said, "the Nomads are in strategic high ground. I can expect a large ambush to be waiting for us at the gate, and even if we make it through the New York System, we still have to break through the Zone 21 minefield before we can warp, and your cruisers can use you jump drives."

"No matter what, we've got to try."

"Agreed. Here comes the end of the passage. Good luck."

And between us and the gate, were two Liberty battleships, hundreds of Nomad fighters and infested Defenders. Nomad gunboats began turning to us and the Nomad taskforce that chased us from the prison station had caught up with us.

"We are badly outnumbered!" Garon exclaimed.

We soon found ourselves to be on the wrong end of hundreds of guns. Round after round hit our ships. And without shields, Walker's cruisers soon began to buckle.

"This the the Phoenix.... We had lost contact with our engine room...."

"Commander," Slaavok informed grimly, "the Phoenix's reactor had been punctured. A breach is in progress."

On cue, the Phoenix was immersed in a blinding white light.
"We are reading a breach-"
and the Captain got no further, as the Phoenix was ripped apart by her exploding reactor core.

"We must get out of here now or we will all die in here!" Walker shouted.

"Easily said." Trent replied.

Walker's cruiser engaged cruise, and headed straight at the gate.
"My ship is loaded with enough gravimetric mines for both battleships."

He was going to ram the battleships and detonate the mines!

"No!" Jun'ko protested, "There must be another way!"

"I am sorry, but there isn't."

An idea suddenly popped into my head.

"Walker, hold it!" I shouted, "There is a way! Full impulse to the Utah, prepare to beam Walker's mines in once we get in range!"

"Captain!" Garon protested, angerily, "I can't let you throw the lives of the whole crew-"

"Then get close to those battleships, set those mines on, and beam them onto the battleships! After that, we get out of the way."

Garon stood up, his jaws wide open in shock and awe. Then he did something totally unexpected-he got out of the captain's chair, and gestured me to sit in.

"Welcome back in command, sir."

"A goddamn good idea." Walker complimented, "I am setting those mine to remote-detonation."

The Akira hurried in, and beamed the mines into her cargo bay. Then, with all due haste, charged at the battleships, and at the last moment, did a U-turn, sent the mines off, and blazed away like there was no tomorrow. Once the Akira got out of the blast radius, the battleships began exploding, dozens of tiny metallic volcanoes erupted all over the ships' hulls.

"The gate is clear!" I yelled, "What are you waiting for, get in!"

The fighters dashed for the gate as the capital ships provided cover. It only took three minutes for every one of us to escape the system.

We emerged into another warzone, our two starships were fighting a losing battle with four Liberty cruisers, and wing after wing of Defenders, now under Nomad control.

"Finally!" The Thunderchild's Captain sighed with relief, "Let's get the blazes out of here!"

"Spearhead formation!" Miles ordered, "We have to break through their defenses!"

The Monarch acted as the tip of the spearhead, and led us into battle.

The Akira cut down a wing of fighters with her phasers, a cruiser attempted to use her main cannon on the Monarch but was taken out by a photon torpedo volley from the Thunderchild.

We were almost half way out of the minefield, madly plowing through wave after wave of Defenders and cruisers.

A Liberty caught us while we were reloading torpedoes, it began pounding us with it's main gun. The situation was desperate, and I had another idea.

"Engage tractor beam," I ordered, "lock on to that cruiser, drag it into the minefield."

It proved to be a wise decision, a swift swing of the tractor beam was all it took. A mine slammed brutally into the cruiser's hull and blew it in half.

We were almost out of the minefield, but waiting there for us were two more cruisers, their main guns pointed right at us. And A Liberty battleship physically blocking the exit.

"This is the Omaha, return the president at once!"

"Never!" Miles shouted, "All ships, concentrate fire on that battleship!"

"You will soon meet your doom."

All three ships began bombarding us.

"Captain," Strum yelled, "shields down!"

"Captain, any of your ideas?" Alisha asked, expectantly.

"Not now.... Keep firing at that ship!"

Alisha frowned, and I could see fear in her eyes. Fear from the prospect of imment death.

"We are taking damage!" Garon reported, "Bow section ablative armor integrity is down to 47%!"

"Not good," I muttered, "definitely not good!"

Then, miraculously, the Omaha and the cruiser LNS Merrimack began exploding. The debris cleared and behind the dead hulks, was the Osiris, and a Galaxy Class Starship.

"This is the Osiris," Orillion said, "Trent, Jun'ko, dock quickly!"

Then a totally unfamiliar, yet friendly voice began speaking.

"This is Captain Powell of the USS Suruga, we are here to help."

I had heard about the ship before, the Suruga underwent a full overhaul during the Dominion War and was blessed with advanced shields and weapons. There was a lot of controversy about the ship though, as people were arguing that the Federation, a peace loving interstellar power, should not equip an explorer for battle. And the Suruga had the dubious honor of being called a "Federation Battleship".

"We are uploading the regroup coordinates." Powell said, "it is the Omicron Major System, the Order's main base."

"All right," I ordered, "warp, engage!"

(What bug? Did I mention one?)

The Alaska System didn't match it's namesake. Instead of a clear, idyllic stretch of space, all was green and murky.

Weird spiky spines of asteroids dotted the area, they looked artificial, perhaps long-defunct constructs of an ancient era, with an unknown purpose. To top it off, strange, floating spaceborne bacteria added to the scenery. I would have joked that we had just dove into an over-sized alien sewer if we didn't have so much to worry about.

A shipyard complex was in front of us. It wasn't as impressive as the one we encountered in Rhineland, but nevertheless, we prepared for a hard fight. The only problem was-there was nothing, no one, there to stop us.

"The Mitchell Prison Station is not far from here," Walker said, "form up on us."

"Got it." Miles said, "By they way, isn't it weird that we haven't met any resistance since we cleared the jumpgate? Do you think that they are planning an ambush?"

"I don't know, but what's important is to get the president out safety."

"I personally don't feel good about this." I said, "The whole thing was too easy.... As if they are waiting us to sail into a trap. Then pull the string."

"I am feeling the same thing...." Miles sighed, "But under these circumstances.... We have no other choice but to see what's in store for us."

We went through a passage lined with buoys at the sides. The nebula had cleared a bit, and the stellar stalactites could be vaguely seen behind the lines of buoys.

"I wonder what those asteroids are." I mused.

"Perhaps, captain," Slaavok began, "we can make a detailed analysis, at a later time. I had made a remark on my log of this."

"Thank you."

"Weird." Walker said, "We should have been hailed by the station by now."

The asteroids were covered by the veil of the nebula again, and in front of us, was a box-shaped station.

"That's it," King said, "strange, it's automated docking systems are operational but no one is responding to hails."

"I will dock first." Jun'ko said, "King, you will be next, then Walker and Trent."

I tapped my combadge. "Bridge to security, assemble a away team and meet me in the transporter room."

"Garon, take the bridge."

"Yes sir, good luck."

I took a turbolift ride, and went to the armory. I slung a compression phaser rifle on my back and holstered a Type-II hand phaser as backup.

Then I met Drayla's security outfit at the transporter room.

"As we know," I briefed the team, "the president is being held in this complex, and is about to be, or, has been infested by the Nomads. If it is the former, we must prevent the latter from happening. If it is the latter.... Make her death a quick one."

From the confused look of team members' eyes I could see that they were all stuck within the whole logical loop of "former" and "later", I decide to give them a more straightforward order.

"Rescue or terminate, are we clear?"

"Crystal." Drayla said.

We got on to the transporter pads and prepared ourselves.

"Energize."

We materialized on the landing deck of the station, which was half-lit with barely functioning lights, flickering on and off. It was soon clear that the staff of this station are either missing or dead. Walker and his people had already secured the area. Jun'ko pointed at a corridor, that leaded to the interrogation chamber, where the president was likely to be held in. I gripped my rifle tightly, and motioned for the away team to follow.

Treading silently, we kept out heads up for any hints of possible attackers or the president's whereabouts. Cell after cell were opened and searched, but we found no body in them. I began to have a sinking feeling that we might be too late.

Then I heard something, it was the sound of someone struggling, and moaning in pain.

"Did you heard that?" I asked.

"Heard what?" Jun'ko asked in dobut.

"I think it's the president, follow."

I trailed the voice. It grew louder and louder, finally, we reached Room G-5, and unlike the other rooms in the station, it was fully lit. We took position besides the door.

I heard a female voice-that of the president.

"How dare you! Abducting your president?! Do you know that it is high treason?!"

A nervous little man went out of the room, and walked right into Trent. He held him at gunpoint, and instructed him to remain silent.

"The Rhineland chancellor?! I should have known, the attack of Willard Station, murdering our ambassador...."

"The time has come for me...." A deep, masculine voice whispered, "to plant a seed in you."

"Guards," he ordered, "leave."

It was time to act. Trent used the man we captured as cover, and used his retinal signature to open the door. Using him as a shield, he fired at the two guards. They returned fire and killed the man instead. I leaned from my cover and trained my rifle at the chancellor. He turned back, his eye glowing neon-blue like Tekagi, and his mouth was wide open, the tentacles of a Nomad parasite flailing in it. I took aim at the grotesque sight, and squeezed the trigger.

He staggered a few steps back, then drew a pistol from his pocket. I aimed for his head again and fired. This time, he fell onto the ground, motionless.

He did not fall alone, though. I felt a sharp pain at my right chest, and lost all my strength. The rifle felt heavy and I could hold on to it no longer. I let it fall to the ground with a clank, followed by my body. I tried to breath but it was painful. I slowed my rate of breath to compensate. I knew I was hit but I didn't know if the wound was bad. Then I saw a pool of red spreading from me, and knew that I was bleeding, a lot.

"Hang in there, captain!" Drayla knelt beside me and examined me. "Damn, that was pretty bad. Akira, one to beam, directly to sickbay!"

I was now on a bed in the sickbay. I was spread out on the biobed. Dr. Miranda took a hypospray, filled it with an anesthetic, and injected it into me. My vision began to blur as I slipped into unconsciousness.

(Just a few mad fantasies of mine. I am also planning a ST-Homeworld fic, with the same crew but a new ship. The fleet-action is based on SFC and Legacy.)

"Captain," Slaavok reported, "the Monarch is engaging her impulse engines."

"Formation pattern Alpha-3." I ordered, "Match velocities and course."

"On it." Alisha said and steered the ship beside the Monarch. I heard the soft hum of the impulse drives powering up.

"Incoming hail." Kamel informed.

"Onscreen."

The viewscreen changed from a view of the space in front of the ship's bridge, to the bridge of the Monarch.

"This is Miller to all ships, we will be maintaining communications silence as soon as we leave the badlands so as not to be detected. Once Trent's wing are done destroying the array and make the rendezvous. We will break the silence and proceed into Zone-21. If anything goes amiss, use your navigational lights for communication in Morse code. Miller out."

The image of the bridge snapped away and the starfield was restored.

"All right people," I said, "you heard the man, Mr. Slaavok, keep an eye at the other ships of the taskforce, tell me if they are messaging. Mrs. Alisha, ETA to the rendezvous point?"

"15 Minutes, sir."

"Thank you. Mr. Strum, load quantum torpedoes and charge the phaser capacitors."

"Already done, sir. I did that as soon as you ordered battlestations."

Strum was indeed a good tactical officer. Perhaps not being allowed to choose my own crew wasn't too bad after all. I made a note to myself to commend Strum for his professionalism in my logs.

"Excellent, now we wait." I said, and began prowling around the bridge, which is my little quirk when I have to wait.

"Captain," Kamel asked politely after I had done a few laps round the bridge, "no offense, but can you please stop walking around? It distracts me from my work."

I apologized and returned to the captain's chair. I read a few reference files on my console to help kill time.

I was studying a diagram of a Constitution Class Warp Core when Alisha called out.

"Captain, we are in position."

"Then where's Trent?" I asked.

"Not yet here," Strum said, "sir."

"All right." I said, "Inform me of any new developments." and then switched the cross-section of the Constitution Class Starship, or affectionately called by older Starfleet officers as the "Connie", for the Akira's sensors readout.

Minutes passed without Trent reporting, we began to fear for the worst. Still, we kept the communications silence.

The situation was tense, every passing second was like years to us. Cold sweat began forming of the bridge crews' heads.

"Captain!" Kamel suddenly yelled, making me literally jump out of my seat. "We are being hailed!"

"Onscreen!"

Everyone were relived to see Trent safe.

"Trent here, we did it."

A wave of applause erupted on the Akira's bridge, and on the bridges of each of the taskforce's ships.

"Everyone's safe, we are almost here."

"Excellent!", Miles cut in, "Let's get ready."

Within seconds three fighters, Trent's, Jun'ko's and King's. Arrived on cruise speed. And formed on the taskforce.

"I am glad to work with you again," Jun'ko said passionately, "Walker."

"Just like the old times." Walker replied suavely.

"It's kind of strange that a Liberty Captain was working with the enemies of the state." I joked.

"And dragged more than a few alien powers along into the whole mess." Jun'ko said, "These are strange times."

"Strange indeed." Walker sighed, "The freedom we had enjoyed in Liberty had been replaced by a cold blooded, iron handed military dictatorship ever since president Jacobi went missing. I must say that I missed the old, liberal, Liberty."

"I am appalled to know this, but that's why we are here-to fight it back, Captain Walker," Miles said, "lead the way."

"Everyone, follow tight, the passage is barely wide enough for one ship."

"This is Miller, all ships, line astern."

The sight of a Liberty Cruiser, followed by a Sovereign Class, two Akira Classes, a Nebula Class Starship with fighters laced in the gaps between each starship, passing through a treacherous minefield, was a sight in strange times indeed.

Soon after we had cleared the minefield, we picked up chatter from the other side, the Liberty Navy was alerted of our presence, and scrambled to defend the gate.

A wing of five defenders in delta formation came and greeted us with energy fire.

"All ships," Miles shouted, "break formation and engage at will!"

The taskforce sprang into action, letting off phaser fire at the incoming attackers.

"Phasers," I ordered, "full spread!"

Five phaser streams found their mark, and quickly tore through all five defenders' shields. Then it proceeded to heat the hulls pass the melting point of trititanium. The fighter crafts became softer than cream, their pilots had no time to scream as their vocal cords, along with their bodies, were vaporized.

Something was wrong, though, the full Naval battlegroup we were expecting was not there, instead a large group of fighters defended the gate. Then we realized that that may just be enough.

"Holy!" Trent shouted, after a few hits collapsed his shields, "What the hell were those ships armed with?!"

"Pulse guns?" Jun'ko asked.

One of our Anubis-Class Starfighters was reduced from full shields to scrap metal in just 7 hits.

"Mr. Slaavok," I asked, "are those disruptors?"

"Negative, the weapon's power output was slightly higher, the waveform does not match any known energy based weapons...." Slaavok paused briefly as he studied more data, before continuing, with one eyebrow raised in surprise. "It's energy signature matched that of the Rowlett's Revenge. In other words, it is a Nomad weapon.... Sensors detect Nomad tissues within the casings of those weapons."

"In other words, captain," Strum said, "it is a Nomad gun fully compatible for use by Sirius vessels!"

The Akira rocked slightly as it took a full volley from a Defender wing.

"We will talk about that later," I said, "now we have to neutralize those fighters-Strum, weapons free!"

Beam after beam of phaser shot angrily out of the Akira, and hit the hulls of several squadrons of defenders with terrible accuracy.

"I need some time to hack the gate," Jun'ko shouted through the comm, "give me some cover!"

"Hack?" Miles asked, "I thought we are here to use the gate, not to cut it down."

"'Hack' means 'interface'." I explained, "Apparently they are still using slang words of the 21st century."

"That makes much more sense." Miles said, satisfied with the explanation, "Hold on there, my lady, we are coming to the rescue!"

The Monarch swooped in front of a flight of fighters which were bearing down on Jun'ko, and obliterated them with a full spread of quantum torpedoes.

"No need to be so dramatic, Commodore." Walker said sourly, "I know how to take care of her."

A flight of defenders were unfortunate enough to happed directly in front of Walker's cruiser, a blast from the main cannon later, the fighters were nowhere to be found, disintegrated into various molecules and ions.

"Just a few more seconds!" Jun'ko yelled.

"We will give you just that, my dear!" Miles said, and shot another defender wing down.

"Miles," I suggested, "your playing the gentleman is making everyone nervous, stop it and get serious."

"Did it!" Jun'ko shouted, this time in triumph, "All ships into the gate!"

We left the Thunderchild and the T'Kumbra to defend the New York side of the gate, and proceeded to the Alaska System.

(A exam is coming so please have patience with the frequency of updates.)

Captain's log, stardate 57749.35

Our mission to destroy the prototype shipyard was a success. But our victory was Pyhrric at best. Of all the fighters present in the battle, only Trent and Von Claussen survived. the USS Yeltsin had sustained severe damage and had to return to the Alpha Quadrant for repairs.

The situation in the colonies is desperate, the four houses are now openly fighting with each other, with the Nomads pulling strings from the dark, waiting for the time when the colonies were sufficiently worn down, and then they will strike. Reports of unknown vessels attacking convoys and shippings are increasingly frequent, and we now receive news that the Liberty president, Jacobi, had went missing, most likely abducted by the Nomads, to be infected and used as one of their many puppets.

But we have a chance, though, the Order had confirmed that the president is now being held in the maximum-security Mitchell Prison Station deep in the Alaska System. She is the Order's last hope for breaking the Nomads' hold on Liberty. Perhaps there is a chance that she can be reached before the Nomads own her, body and soul.

But we must tackle many barriers in order for us to reach Alaska, which is used by Liberty to incarcerate her most dangerous criminals and to research top-secret technologies. The only gate to the system is situated in the center mysterious Zone-21, in a remote corner of the New York System. The Zone is surrounded by a thick minefield, defended by numerous weapons platforms, two full battlegroups and whatever the Liberty or the Nomads were working on in Alaska itself. This time though, we could not use our repulsor probe as according to Orillion's intel, the mines were equipped with micro-thrusters and can restore position seconds after it had been displaced.

In addition to that, the Liberty Navy had just deployed a tachyon sensor satellite array that can neutralize the Osiris' cloaks near Zone-21, it's range covering the whole New York System. We must take it offline before the Osiris can operate safely in there.

Miles' taskforce, along with us, are standing by near Buffalo Base-ironically run by the Liberty Rogues, a local criminal triad. Instead of being enemies of the state and try to cause more trouble and make more profit from the weakened government, is now actually helping to save Liberty.

I was surprised when Walker's taskforce came to meet us-after we lose contact with him I had considered the possibility of him dying in combat. Though his taskforce had dwindled badly than the last time we saw him. One cruiser and a large proportion of his fighter escort were gone, and the two cruisers bore the scars of many battles-blemishes and burn marks dotted their hulls, and I felt sorry for all the hell he and his people had to go through.

He is here to guide us through the minefield. There is a mine-free corridor for capital ships to access the Zone-21 gate, but this meant that we will be facing the Liberty Fleet head-on.

We are waiting for Trent, Jun'ko and someone called King, as soon as they arrive at Buffalo Base, we will move out.

End of log.

I invited Walker to visit the Akira as we waited for Trent and friends to arrive.

"This is the bar," I sat on a bar stool, and showed Walker the one next to me, "stocked with all drinks imaginable from all over the galaxy. And thousands of snacks to choose from. Bartender?" I called.

The bartender was a Bolian ensign called Forjor, who was in the process of snacking on a pack of peanuts when I requested his services. He bolted up from his little chair, and began coughing vigorously. He, surprised of hearing his captain's voice, had accidentally choked on his peanuts.

"Are you all right?" I went and patted his back.

It took a few minutes for his coughing to subside. And a few more for him to sort himself out. Walker couldn't help grinning, but politely covered his mouth and turned his face down to hide the fact that he was laughing.

"All right, sirs," Forjor smiled, "may I take your orders?"

"Cold water." I said. "And what about you?"

Forjor set a mug of water, with a Starfleet-emblem-shaped piece of ice floating on top, on the counter in front of me, I held the mug tightly, letting the icy coolness diffuse into my right palm, and began drinking.

"Liberty Ale."

That's perhaps the only drink we didn't have. Forjor and I looked at each other blankly. Suddenly the whole bar was filled with dead air.

"Bet you people don't carry it." Walker said, "Forget that then, I'll have a Tennessee whiskey."

"One Tennessee whiskey coming up!"

Walker took his drink and took sip, then he spat it out in disgust.

"What-the-hell-is-this?" He asked, word by word but somehow slightly amused.

"Tennessee whiskey." Forjor answered.

"The flavor is off, way off."

Curious, I pulled out my tricorder and scanned the beverage. "It looks all right to me." I said, and showed Walker the scan results.

He studied the readouts carefully and pointed his finger at one column. "75% Synthehol, that's the problem."

"Forjor," I whispered, "do we carry any real alcoholic drinks?"

"Will have to replicate it, sir."

"Do it."

He went to a replicator at a corner of the bar, pressed a few buttons and handed Walker another glass, this time filled with real Tennessee whiskey containing real alcohol.

Cautiously, he took a drink and then smiled. "That's what I am talking about!" He applauded, "It's the best drink I had for years!"

"That serious?" I asked, concerned with the grim situation of beverages, and life in general, in this universe.

"That serious." He replied, "It's hard to find a good drink these days. Even if you did it would be pretty expensive. Most of us were stuck with Liberty Ale, cheap, but crude."

"What exactly is it, sir?" Forjor asked, with a PADD in his hand and ready to jot down notes on how it was made so that we can serve it in the future.

"I applaud your attitude with your job," Walker took another sip, "but I think your bar will be better without it."

"Well," I argued, "it won't hurt to give our future patrons one more choice, and it satisfies our curiosity, as you know, we are a curious people."

"All right." he sighed, "But don't ask me to sample it."

He cleared his throat,"Liberty Ale's made by condensing the brunt fuels of ships and ship exhaust into a liquid, then fermenting it for a few weeks before serving. Some of sloppier breweries skip the fermentation part and just used some sort of chemical catalyst, needless to say, it tasted horrible. And what's the worst? The Navy purchased that lousy ale in bulk to lower costs in expense of us officers' tongues. I once read something about the chemical composition of Liberty Ale, and turns out it was 50% ethanol, 45% water, the rest are assorted esters and trace amounts of methanol."

I was deeply shocked by this. "Methanol?!" I asked in rage, "That thing's not fit for human consumption! No, let me rephrase this, it's toxic!"

"The companies know, the government knows, everyone knows!" Walker banged the table angrily, "They said that it is within acceptable levels but I don't think the Government gives a damn. Hell, they may have been bribed by those corporations to give the Ale a green light!"

I decided to change the topic before Walker or I were overwhelmed by all the insanity of Liberty. I broke eye contact with Walker, and focused on my drink. During the transition of my eyesight, I caught glimpse of Forjor holding a glassful of a transparent, oily liquid. He took a sip, and began to speak.

"Captain Walker," he said in a coarse voice, "'crude' is too good a word for this.... With all due respect, sirs, crap."

With horror we realized that he had just replicated a Liberty Ale to the exact formula given by Walker, and tried it. The extremely bad taste had caused his throat to spasm uncontrollably, his tongue to tremble and his marbles to go missing.

I was afraid that he may pass out, or worse, away.

"Do you have to go to the sickbay?" I asked and took his vitals with my tricorder, which somehow was still in my hand.

"Thank you, Captain. But I think I will live."

His vital signs were all right, and fortunately the Bolian body can digest methanol without too much hassle.

"All right...." I sighed, "Don't hesitate to seek help if you feel something's wrong with you."

"Got it."

My combadge beeped, I tapped it with my right middle finger.

"Captain Sy here." I said.

"Captain," Garon said through the comm, "Trent, Jun'ko Zane and King are here. They are docking with Buffalo as we speak."

"Garon, please do me a favor, ask Trent to dock with the Akira instead, tell him that we have personal matters to discuss."

"Okay, sir."

I downed the rest of my drink while waiting for Garon's reply. My combadge beeped again.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"I am sorry, sir." Garon said, "He ignored us and docked with Buffalo."

Trent, what a coward.

"I will get him later." I turned to Walker, who had swallowed the rest of his Tennessee whiskey with love, "Walker, do you want to meet Jun'ko now?"

"Okay, I will fly." He was referring to his Defender Class Starfighter, which he used as a shuttle. "You can come with me if you don't mind cramming into the cockpit with me."

"I suggest a faster method." I said, "Computer, site-to-site transport, two to beam-Captains Sy and Walker, to Deck A-3, Buffalo Base."

"What does that mean?" a confused Walker asked.

"You will know a few seconds later. Energize."

A blue light shrouded our eyes. A few seconds later, the veil of blue was lifted and we saw Trent, Jun'ko and King staring at us with wide open mouthes.

"How did you pull that off?!" Trent asked.

"Magic.... It's magic." King added.

"I once heard someone say that," I explained, "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."

I turned to Jun'ko, but couldn't find her. It took me a few seconds to see that she was embracing Walker.

"I hate to cut your reunion short, but here's the deal." I show them a map of the New York System on a PADD. "The Liberty Navy had set up a tachyon sensor satellite array near Zone-21. With that the Osiris' cloak will be good for nothing in this system. you will take this jumphloe, a intra-system one, to get you closer to the array, then take it out before everyone is alerted. The Starfleet taskforce and Walker will standby near Zone-21, once you are done with the satellite, meet up with us there. Then we will proceed for the Alaska jumpgate. We will upload the coordinates and the mission details to your computers on the way. Any questions?"

"How do we get into the zone?" Trent asked, "I heard it was a minefield."

"There is a large opening in the field for the entry of ships. We will strike there."

"No chance for using your little repulsor-trick again?"

"No." I replied, "The mines can move by itself and the minefield will be restored within seconds."

"Damn."

"I second that." King said.

"I think we should get back to our ships now," Walker advised, "It's almost time.... I will have someone ferry me back to my cruiser."

"Where's your shuttle?" Jun'ko asked.

"I left it on the Akira." Walker answered, obviously embarrassed.

"All right." I said, "Nevermind that." then I tapped my commbadge "Computer, site-to-site transport, Captain Walker, to bridge, LNS Utah."

I waited for everybody to examine me for signs of insanity. I grinned with amusement.

"Energize."

Walker suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, what about my Def-" and got no further as his body dissolved into the matter stream, to be reassembled in his cruiser's bridge.

"I will get it to him later." I explained, and tapped my combadge, then realizing that I had just turned it off, tapped it again, "Akira, one to beam, energize."

I materialized on a transporter pad. After exchanging a few idle remarks with the transporter chief, Lt. Lee, about subatomic particles and how they affect the performance of transporters, headed off to the bridge.

"Welcome back, captain." Garon greeted me as I stepped out of the turbolift.

"Thanks." I went to my chair, "Status report?"

"All systems green. Trent and his wing had already set off to the intra-system jumphole."

I sat down and made myself comfortable.

"Sir," Kamel informed, "the Monarch is sending us a message, taskforce is to move out at 1400 hours."

I looked at my console, it was 1358 hours.

"All right. Red alert, all hands to battlestations."

I and the Akirs's senior officers materialized on the docking deck of the Bruchsal Base, surprising many of the base's crew.

This base was owned by the Bundschuh, the organization was believed to be founded by a group of New Berlin University students in 679 AS, the movement had much support among the liberal elite of New Berlin, tired of the corrupt practices of the government that had led them to financial ruin near the end of the 80-Years War. During the Dresden rebellion of 700 AS, the Bundschuh found their first official cause -- shipping supplies "liberated" from Frankfurt to the Kruger and Daumann rebels. Three months after that, sympathetic maintenance workers started sabotaging Daumann manufacturing operations in New Berlin. The industrial heart of Rheinland stopped beating, and the Popular Revolution had begun.

Five years later the Emperor was overthrown,, and a new coalition government was established in its place. While the Bundschuh initially pushed for a full investigation into the activities of companies such as Kruger Mining and Daumann Heavy Construction, more pragmatic elements within the government decided that for the newly formed Rheinland Republic to succeed, it needed the support of the aristocrats who controlled those and other major companies. Both Kruger and Daumann were eventually required to pay substantial reparations intended to "improve the Rheinland Republic for the good of all people," and all Rheinland companies were forced to comply with a newly ratified Workers' Rights Convention.

Bitter at being cheated by this new government, the Bundschuh took to their arms again and began the underground struggle for freedom. They are now gathering sympathizers for a new revolution and hopefully, a new Rhineland where there is no oppression and exploitation of people.

Now realizing the nomad infestation, they had dedicated all of their resources to assist the Order on their mission to protect the colonies.

The officers of the rest of the taskforce soon arrived, to our surprise, in a runabout. Trent's Falcon and Von Claussen's Valkyrie began to set themselves down.

The runabout USS Wakenitz landed and Miles was the first to come out.

"Hey," he began, "Long time no see!"

"You know," I shook his hand, "it's not exactly grammatically correct. A good alternative is-"

"Forgive my interruption," Von Claussen's voice came behind me, "but it's not time time for grammatical discussions."

He led us to the base conference room. A smallish rectangular chamber with a window looking out into space. A few people, presumably high-level Bundschuh, had already taken their seats. We found ours and made ourselves comfortable.

"Let me introduce," Von Claussen said, "this is Botzler, the commander of this Bundschuh base."

One of the seated men waved at me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Miles was faster. "Commodore Miles Mandras Miller, Commanding officer of the USS Monarch and the Leader of this Federation taskforce. It is my pleasure to meet you, and I am impressed by your defiance to oppression and tyranny, to strive for your ideals against impossible odds...."

There was a reason why Miles was a flag officer while I am only a captain of a single starship. He had a sort of ability to befriend others with his words alone, making him fit for being a diplomat.

His tactical and strategical skills were also very good, being one of the apprentices of the master Zakdorn strategist Sirna Kolrami, and famous for inventing a space version of the (in)famous Blitzkrieg tactic, although it was mooted by Starfleet Command for being too aggressive, it was well-received by the Klingons and was hailed by them as "The Ultimate Plan".

It could be said that Miles was more or less the exact sort of person Starfleet was looking for:Excelling in both diplomacy and tactics, he can promote and uphold the Federation's ethics and value in all situations while managing emerge victorious should the situation deteriorate to the point where armed conflict is unavoidable.

Eventually Miles felt the building air of impatience and quickly ended his short impromptu speech.

"Thank you," Von Claussen said, "now I shall get to the point."

A hologram blinked into existence above the table, it was a representation of the Frankfurt system. A particular patch near the Bruchsal Base was flashing red.

"I had confirmed the location of the prototype shipyard," he pointed at the red patch. "The Rhineland Military is building some sort of ships there. I am not sure of the exact specifications, but I can assure you that these ships, where ever they came from, are definitely not of human origin."

The Bundschuh whispered to each other, shocked by the fact. Trent, who was seated just next to me, tapped my shoulder, "We are dealing with aliens on this one, any pointers?"

I didn't know if he meant pointers to converse or to engage the aliens, so I answered him sloppily. "Just keep an open mind, I think."

"I doubt doing that will put a dent on them."

Now I realized what he was talking about.

"Just give it your best shot," I advised, "don't get too surprised with whatever things you will encounter. Stay cool and you will be all right."

"Thanks."

"The site is very well defended," Von Claussen continued, "a sphere of mines surrounds the perimeter of the shipyard by a 50 KM radius. Within the minefield are numerous automated sentries and guard posts, designed to warn the shipyard of any intruders and stopping minor intrusions. The whole Rhineland South Fleet was defending the shipyard itself, be expected to meet at least two battleships and more than six cruisers with full escorts."

"The mines is low-yield, but emit strong ionizing radiation as their explosive charges are highly radioactive. This can be countered with heavy hull paneling and a constant use of hull-patch nanobots."

"And fortunately for us," Miles commented, "the radiation won't harm our vessels."

The starfield dissolved and was replaced with a detailed holographic model of a Rhineland Battleship.

"These Rhineland ships had received some sort of refit from the shipyard, and are now sporting powerful weapons that would have taken us decades to invent. In addition, they had managed to equip shields on all their ships, including the capitals."

The turrets on the battleship flashed and then the hologram zoomed onto one of the turrets. It took on an uncanny resemblance to a pair of Klingon disruptors mounted on a platform.

"This seems to be a new Rhineland energy weapon, it is able to deal extreme damage and had a high refire rate. A version of this weapon had been adapted onto fighters, as we saw during the earlier attack."

"That thing's power signatures matched that of a pulse disruptor, and is very likely to be one." I said, "It is a common sight in our universe, used primarily by the Klingon Empire. I don't know how the Rhineland Military or the Nomads managed to get their hands on such technology but I can tell you this:It's power output is slightly higher than our phasers, but loses it's punch over range. Also, since it is fired in pulses, or in a stream of energy pellets, it is easy to evade, unlike our phasers, which can not be dodged once target lock is achieved."

"Thank you for this information," Von Claussen said as another weapon is brought into the limelight, "And this is their heavy weapon-it is some sort of heavy plasma cannon, but with tracking abilities and had a very efficient magnetic bottle that allows it to hold much more plasma than anything we had."

"That's a Plasma Torpedo." Strum said, "very dangerous to anything, it is able to severely disrupt shields and devastate unprotected hulls should it hit. The torpedo itself does not travel very quickly though, and not only it is easy to get out of the way, but it is actually possible to disrupt the magnetic bottle with weapons fire, effectively weakening the damage potential of the plasma torpedo. One last thing, as in all plasma weapons, it has a very short effective range."

"It's strange...." Miles said, "how did the Nomads get weapons only found in our universe.... Disruptors could be bought in the black market but the Romulans won't give one of their most powerful weapons out like this. Unless they had already infected the Romulan Government.... But the Romulans had one of the best counter-infiltration force in the galaxy...."

"Then the Romulans must have traded their weapons technology with the Nomads for something in return," I reasoned, "but what is it?"

"The Kruger Corporation had been sending large shipments of strange crystals, something called 'Dilithium'," Von Claussen said, "into an unknown location in the Omegas. But we have more urgent matters at hand."

The hologram of the plasma torpedo turret faded and was replaced by an image the shipyard, and the outlying minefield.

"We will split into two forces," Von Claussen pointed at a opening in the minefield, "this is an opening for the access of capital ships, and will be very well defended, as the Rhineland Fleet expect any attackers to take the obvious route. The Federation ships and two squadrons will be Strike Group 1, which will engage the Rhineland Fleet and to draw most of the shipyard defenders away."

A shrunken version of Miles' taskforce and the Akira appeared at the opening, attracting several Rhineland Military ships. And began fighting holographically.

"Strike Force 2, composed of fighters, will weave through the mines, and destroy the shipyard compound while the defense force is busy engaging Strike Force 1. Once this is done, Strike Force 2 will proceed to enter this jumphole, which is within the minefield, Strike Force 1 will then retreat, and we will rendezvous in the Hamburg System."

On the opposite edge of the minefield, dozens of fighters of various configurations, evaded the mines and began wreaking havoc in the shipyard.

Curiously, the prototype shipyard was shown empty. "Do you have any idea on the visual profile of the prototype ships?" I asked.

"I am sorry, but my contact was killed moments after he told me that the ships were not of human origin."

"May he or she rest in peace." Miles said.

"It's she, actually. Now, is there any problems with the plan?"

Miles leaned at Von Claussen and whispered something into his ear.

"What? Your ships can do this? Then we have a change in our plans."

Miles typed something into a keyboard and a technical cut-away diagram of USS T'Kumbra appeared.

"The USS T'Kumbra had been equipped with a prototype repulsor probe. Designed to disperse minefields, it works by going deep into the minefield and detonating, producing a shockwave that will repel any object within a 3KM radius. With that, we can make our own opening instead of engaging the Rhineland Fleet directly. The probe can be used at the very same location as the entry point for Strike Force 2, which is the least defended spot of the shipyard. We will use another one to clear a path for the exit jumphole. My taskforce, minus the T'Kumbra, will engage and draw the Rhineland Fleet at the main entrance. The Akira, the T'Kumbra and rest of Strike Force 2 will enter through the backdoor and destroy the shipyard. Are there any questions?"

Everyone remained silent in approval.

"Excellent! Than we should go and get ourselves ready!"

A few hours later, after we ran diagnosis and optimized our ships' systems, we were on our way.

The Akira, T'Kumbra, Trent, Von Claussen and dozens of Bundschuh fighters led by Botzler approached the minefield.

We stopped thirty kilometers short of the minefield.

"Mrs. Kamel," I said, "please contact with the Monarch."

"Hailing frequengies open, sir."

"This is Strike Force 2, we are in position, how about you, Miles?"

"We are in position.... Rhineland ships spotted, engaging!"

"All ships," the Vulcan Captain of the T'Kumbra, Sornek, announced, "stand by for probe launch."

A red bolt slid out of the Nebula-Class starship's weapons pod, and made it's way into the minefield, leaving a red trail in it's path.

We all held our breathes.

A blue sphere began growing in size in the middle of the minefield. Flashes of light dotted the edge of the blue spherical shockwave as mines were pushed out of their positions and triggered their detonators.

The shockwave kept enlarging until it's radius reached 3 kilometers, no more, no less. Then it began to fade slowly.

I called for everyone to move in as the shockwave faded completely.

"Strike force 2, move in, maximum speed!"

We quickly passed the radiation field, the ionized particles eroding the hull platings of the Colonial ships but deflected by our navigational deflectors.

Soon the radiation levels dropped to the point that it could not damage our ships, and in front of us was the prototype shipyard.

The shipyard was an immense structure, essentially two standard large shipyards linked together. It had four docks at each side for a grand total of eight.

It wasn't the shipyard itself that caught our eyes, though, it was the ships that were being built.

Four monstrous neon-blue ships sat in their respective alcoves in the left side of the shipyard. They were, in essence, enlarged version of the Nomad ships that destroyed Freeport 7, their hulls translucent to the darkness of space.

What really shocked us, however, were the familiar shapes sitting in the other side of the docks.

They were a Sovereign class, a Nebula class and two Akira class starships.

Everyone on the bridge let their jaws hang loose for a moment.

"Holy mother of...." exclaimed Alisha.

"What the blazes were they up to?!" I asked, "Mr. Slaavok, scan those ships, I want to know when and how did the Nomads got their hands on Starfleet vessels!"

"Yes, captain."

"All ships," I shouted through the comm, "engage at will!"

The Akira began firing off streams of quantum torpedoes, her phasers cutting the shipyard docks' fragile framework down into scrap metal.

Our fighters sprang into action and went for the shipyard. The few weapons platforms that defended the yard was subjected to a hailstorm of high-energy particles, within seconds the platforms had taken a startling amount of damage, and began breaking up.

The T'Kumbra targeted the main shipyard superstructure and began pumping photon torpedoes into it, in hopes of exposing the station's main reactor and detonating it, causing unrepairable damage to the prototype battleship project.

As I was single-mindedly overseeing the shipyard's destruction, Slaavok had completed the scan.

"Sir, may I have your attention for a moment?" He asked.

I walked next to him and leaned toward his console. "Yes?" I asked.

"Here is the scan results. The Nomad ships are organic in nature, it's cell structure is most intriguing, a cross between normal plant and animal cells. It is fueled by photosynthesis, and is able to supply the energy needed to sustain it's many glands, which seems to be able to secrete energy packets for use as a weapon. It moves by ejecting a gaseous substance for thrust. This ship can be classified as a bioship, yet I must stress that it had very little similarities to the vessels employed by the Species 8472."

"What about those Starfleet vessels?" I asked.

"Upon closer inspection, the ships were impostors, made by grafting hull panels and other equipments onto a specially grown Nomad bioship. These ships, sir, were meant to impose as Commodore Miller's taskforce. The ships had the matching registries and profile to the Monarch, T'Kumbra, Thunderchild and the Yeltsin."

"They are trying to infiltrate Starfleet Command!" I exclaimed, a chilly sensation flowing down my spine, "This can not be allowed to happen.... Mr. Strum, concentrate fire on the imposer ships!"

"Aye, sir!"

"Captain," Kamel said, "we are being hailed!"

"Onscreen."

"This is Strike Force 1," Miles said, "be advised, the Rhineland ships are falling back to the shipyard! They are so desperate to protect it that they didn't even bother returning fire at us! I think they are giving all their power to the engines. We will try to take this chance to reduce the number of Rhineland vessels but don't count on it. Finish your business at the shipyard ASAP and get out!"

"Got it!" I said, and relayed the message to the rest of the Strike Force. "People, we'd better hurry, forget the other targets and concentrate on blowing the main shipyard complex! The T'Kumbra is going for the reactor, help her!"

The Akira assumed position beneath the T'Kumbra and fired, the explosive power of the quantum torpedoes dislodged a few more pieces of hull plating. A few phaser bursts later, a green, shimmering object was unraveled.

"The reactor vessel is exposed," I shouted, "all ships, engage at maximum ran-"

"Captain," Strum yelled, "the Rhineland ships are in range and are attacking!"

Disruptor shots rained upon us, Botzler's wing instantly took many losses from the onslaught The Rhineland fighters went for the kill under the cover of their capital ships.

"My tailpipe!" One of the pilots screamed as his ship lost control and exploded after a barrage from a Valkyrie.

"I am taking heav-" A Rhineland wing swooped in, all five Valkyries concentrating disruptor fire on one poor fighter. He didn't last long.

"Arrgaghhhh!!" A pilot flew into a plasma torpedo and was instantly vaporized.

The Akira took a plasma torpedo square-on, the ship shook and rocked, if not for our seatbelts we would be thrown around the bridge.

"Status report!" I yelled.

"Captain," Strum said said, "shields at 47%"

The Yeltsin found herself in the middle of a rain of disruptor fire.

"This is the Yeltsin, shields critical!"

"This is the Monarch," Miles shouted, "we will cover you! All ships, retreat! We can't win this! T'Kumbra, clear the jumphole!"

"Understood." Sornek replied.

"We still have some fight left in us!" I argued, "We can't just leave this mess unsettled!"

"But we won't last too long under that sort of fir-INCOMING PLASMA TORPEDO, EVASIVE MANEUVERS!"

"PHASERS TO POINT DEFENSE!" I screamed.

The Akira's phasers was brought to bear and intercepted the torpedo just in time.

"Thanks," Miles began, "I owe you one. Let's get out of here while we still can!"

"NO! My men would not have died in vain!" It was Botzler, and I suddenly realized the only fighters left were those of Trent, Von Claussen, and Botzler.

"I have a quantum displacement charge on my ship, leave now, my friends!"

"The way to the jumphole is clear." Sornek informed.

"Get us there," I ordered, "full impulse!"

Everyone except Botzler hurried to the jumphole, leaving the shipyard behind us.

"FOR RHINELAND!" was Botzler's last words, before he sacrificed himself to deal the final blow to the shipyard.

"NOOOOO!" Von Claussen screamed in uncontrolled grief, but soon got his composure back. "Goodbye, my friend."

"He's done it!" Miles said, "Reading a massive energy fluctuation at the location of the shipyard. It is exponentially growing!" He suddenly took on a frightened tone, "All ships, into the jumphole before that shockwave engulfs us!"

Everyone got into the jumphole a controlled panic.

We emerged in an obscure asteroid field in the Hamburg System.

"Phew," Strum swept the sweat from his forehead, "that was a close shave."

"It wasn't for many." I reminded him, grimly.

"At least we've completed the mis- what's that? Rhineland battleship decloaking!"

The Battleship Odin appeared out of nowhere and began firing, as if mocking us and adding insult to our already bad injury.

"Another ship is decloaking, it's not a Rhineland ship? Ain't a Nomad ship either...."

A ship that looked strangely similar to a Liberty battleship uncloaked and began firing at the Odin. It hailed us.

And we were pleasantly surprised as Lord Hakkera's face lit up on the screen.

"This is the Osiris, Trent, Von Claussen, dock at once. Federation vessels, let's take that battleship down."

The captain of the Odin suddenly realized that the odds are at his disadvantage, and promptly cloaked his ship and escaped.

"You had went through a lot, Federation taskforce, please form up on the Osiris and head to the following coordinates. We are now planning to stop the Nomads, once and for all."