It was late, and shuttle Bay 2 of the U.S.S. Hera was fairly empty, but for the sounds of work being done. Those sounds came from the open hatch of the small, J-Type cruiser parked in the far corner. The ship was the Khallianen. The personal vessel of the newest Baroness of the Artan pirate family, Mnhei'sahe Dox.

On board, the young Starfleet lieutenant was laying on her back, tucked tight underneath the communications console of the ships cockpit, hard at work. Her uniform top was draped over the back of the pilots seat as she dug through the wiring in a grease stained black tank top. She was wiring in upgrades to the ships computer and enjoyed the work.

Dox was by no means, an engineer, but knew enough to get her hands dirty on smaller craft like this. And the work would keep her mind occupied and off so she wouldn't obsess over her date the night before with Ensign Mona Gonadie. The date had gone extremely well, but the newfound couple didn't want to rush things and we're taking the night off, as it were. To say it wasn't an easy thing to do was an understatement, and so Dox found herself in the Khallianen messing around.

As she worked, her keen ears picked up the sounds of someone approaching the ramp of the ship, so she slid herself out and wiped off her hands.

"Beautiful vessel, ja?" the silver haired Baroness called out from outside. "Permission to come aboard?"

Hearing the voice of the Baroness, Schwein von Alcott, Dox leapt up from the deck of the Khallianen with excitement. "Of course! Come in!" She yelled back. It had been several days since the in incident in which Schwein and the cosmic embodiment of Death had been separated, restoring both to their own selves and Dox hadn't seen much of her fellow Baroness since.

Schwein stepped up the boarding ramp and inspected the interior as well, nodding in appreciation. Though the outside looked cobbled together, that was more camouflage and inside the craft's true colors shone through to the trained pirate's eye. "Ja, you got a good score. You must have really impressed Captain Magnus."

Smiling nervously, as was standard operating procedure for her, Dox replied. "I guess. I don't know what I could have said or done to merit this, but she is a sweet little ship. Handles great." Then she gestured to the computer station she had been working on. "Trying to get her to talk in something other than Rihan, though. It's a great system, but she's stubborn."

Then Dox turned her attention back to her friend. "How are you doing?"

"Myself, in love, and very much alive, danke." The pirate was grinning ear to ear as she handed off a gold wrapped bottle of Praetor's Reserve Kali-fal to Dox that she'd been hiding behind her back. "A ship warming present."

"Hnave!" Dox cursed, more than impressed and humbled by the beyond top flight bottle in her hand. "Thank you very much."

Setting the bottle down, Dox walked over to one of the panels and opened it to pull out two glasses as she spoke. "So... You don't do anything small. The god of thunder?" Dox grinned, happy for her friend.

"He has a mighty hammer and knows how to use it..." the silver haired woman grinned and giggled a bit like a schoolgirl, a twinkle in her eye. "What about you though? I have heard rumors of you and a certain Miradonian in the lounge, ja?"

Opening up the bottle, Dox's face went bright green. "Hnave..." She cursed in Rihan. "I swear, you can't pass gas on this ship without everyone knowing it."

As she poured the ale, she rolled her eyes, embarrassed. "Well, I don't know what all is going around, but it was just... I guess... A date. We had dinner, we talked."

Taking a shot then refilling her own glass, Dox handed a class to Schwein.

Schwein took the glass and savored it a moment before downing it. "Ahhhhh... Ja, that is the good scheisse... It is rumored that you are dating and that you are making the googly eyes at each other."

Embarrassed but also excited to be thinking about Mona, Dox smiled. She also hadn't realized how much she missed Schwein's accent. Chucking, she replied. "It's just the one date so far. But yeah, I guess 'googly eyes' happened in Ten-Forward, yeah."

"Ah ha! Way to go! We both have found love, it seems." Schwein gently clapped Dox on the back in a congratulatory manner. "So what else is happening in your life? What have I missed?"

Taking another drink, Dox sighed. "Well, I got to visit my mother during shore leave. So, of course, now we're not talking again because she couldn't not lie to me. Otherwise, it's been... chaotic. But you were around for a good chunk of that."

The silver haired pirate turned serious at that and took on a more stiff demeanor. "Speaking as someone that was born from a maturation chamber with nein parents... Family is important. I have worked with many Romulans in the Artan Family and I have learned one thing. They use lies to protect themselves and those they love like a blanket. Instead of blaming them for lying, I have gotten used to instead asking why they lie. It is usually the uncovering of ze truth in ze process. It is a dance... But that is how they are raised and how they live because of ze Tal Shiar."

Dox flumped down in the pilots seat and sighed. "She spent... well... as long as we were out there, so fifteen years, trying to stay below their radar. Officially, 'Jaieh t'Aan' was killed when her research station was destroyed. It's how she got out. She was terrified of the Tal Shiar finding out she was alive with everything she knew."

Refilling her glass, and topping the Baroness off, Dox took a long drink and continued. "I'm just... after everything... I'm so tired of the lies."

Downing the rest of the glass Dox sat back up. "But enough of my ridiculous drama. You are engaged to a GOD and I have an actual girlfriend for the first time ever. This is a GOOD night."

The Kali Fal was starting to have a bit of an effect on Dox as she was relaxing a bit more. "And at some point soon, I still need you to show me how to not be terrible with a sword. I can punch things just fine, but I have no idea what to do with a sword."

The augmented pirate had more she could say on the situation regarding Jaeih Dox, her daughter, and the Romulan pirate group in the Artan family, but for now she'd leave it alone.

Sliding into the copilot's seat with practiced ease, Schwein sipped at her drink and thought it over. "Well, since you're good at punching, just feel the sword as part of your arm and punch and swing with it. Makes sense, ja? The rest is practice und not being stabbed. Trust me. It does not feel so wunderbar."

"I wouldn't imagine, and I do not want to find out." Dox chuckled. "Hopefully we can squeeze in a little time before your big day. When is that, by the way?"

"As soon as I can duel Freyja, we can schedule a wedding day. As for the ceremony itself, ze Prinzessin will be giving me away and Rita has agreed to be my Honored Shieldmaiden. I will try to delay until after the tribunal, but there is no guarantee." With that admission, Schwein finished off her drink and set her glass aside.

Leaning forward in her chair, Dox felt very sober very quickly. "So... There's a chance you won't be... hnave."

There was a drawn out moment of silence between the two women. "Can the tribunal even go forward without you? Doesn't the Captain need the backing off a specific number of baronesses?"

"If I can not prove myself worthy in Freyja's eyes... Yes, it is possible. But as I have fought Amazons at a disadvantage and easily bested them, I have no worries." Schwein was reassuring, but she'd heard of Freyja's strength and knew that if she were to at least measure up to Sif's prowess in combat, she'd have to work hard. "As for the tribunal, she needs at least two with her for it to continue, which she has. To win without combat, she needs all but two."

Leaning back in her seat, this was where the Baroness grew grim. "Our two First class Baronesses are abstaining for now to see how it goes. Three of the old guard Baronesses are siding with the Queen. The Romulan Baroness... She is undecided, but her crew are thinking she will side with the Queen as well. They owe her much for the home they have. The home that you and your mother delivered them to. Also, I will need to confer with another Baroness soon and I would like for you to meet her. She was part of the Prinzessin's original crew like me."

"The Romulan Baroness..." Dox trailed off, pondering what Schwein had just said, but as she thought about everything pieces began falling into place in her mind. "She was... she was a refugee at some point? One of the refugees we got off of Romulus? My mother never went into who our clients were back then. But it was the Artan family, wasn't it? Is that how she knew my Mother?"

Taken aback as her mind raced, Dox continued. "Is... is that why the Captain made me a Baroness?"

"You would have to ask ze Prinzessin... But I believe zat you are a Baroness because she feels she can trust you with that responsibility. To not only do what we do, but to do it as a 'fleeter. I have seen her struggle walking the line between worlds and I have not been able to support her as Adjutant as I should." Schwein then glanced down, then back up at Dox. "Yet I do have to wonder... If your selection for her crew was based on who you are as well as your skills."

"As for Baroness Sienae Nei'rrh 3rd class, she is leader of the Romulan Refugee Corps. Every member of her crew is Romulan and almost all of them there by Dox hands. Many refugees did not join them, but those that did are fiercely loyal."

Closing her eyes,the young half-Romulan woman hung her head, running a hand through her hair as she sighed. Suddenly, her world became immeasurably more complicated as she began pondering the possibility that she might be on the Hera not because of her skills as a pilot, but her value as her Mother's daughter. Without lifting her head, she muttered out, "Sorry... this is... a lot to think about."

The silver haired Baroness nodded solemnly. "Ja, my apologies. However, you have proven your skills beyond a doubt. Were there better qualified? I do not know but I doubt it. Better officer candidates? Perhaps, but with encouragement you are now fit for command as well. You have grown on this vessel more than anyone else I could have imagined having been in your position. For being paired to ze Prinzessin, I can imagine no better pilot. Most 'fleeters would question her orders in the middle of combat..."

"I guess I need to just ask her directly, then." Dox raised her head, chuckling slightly, trying to bolster herself back up. "I had Sonak beam me into space without a suit, asked Death her name and worked up the nerve to ask Mona out. I can ask the Captain a question I'm afraid of the answer to, right?"

It was a question that wasn't really one. "Sorry. I do know how to kill a party, don't I?"

"You ask her later. For now, we celebrate not being dead and having love in our lives, ja?" Schwein clapped Dox on the shoulder a bit harder than she intended and tried to cheer the half Romulan woman up seemingly by force.

Lurching forward hard, Dox was reminded just how strong the woman who effortlessly once hoisted all 270 plus pounds of her off the ground really is. But she smiled in spite of herself. "That I can drink to, Baroness."

He was so busy calling the little popinjay names that he didn't see the flare of energy run out the blade of Trelane's sword, as he executed a successful parry against the effete intruder.

Successful, of course, only if the cheating could be ignored.

But having a steel blade turn into a lightsaber wasn't exactly an above board response during a duel, and as the blade disintegrated a thin line of his own sword, the Chief Gambler of the USS Hera became even more highly-annoyed with the foppish interloper- so much so, in fact, that he didn't notice the follow-through as it also severed his upper arm, then carried on through his ribcage, gliding in a downward arc through his lower spine and hip, neatly missing the opposite inner thigh, as it amputated the leg below, on the outward path.

Thus, Clemens was quite mystified to see the room tilt sideways, as he bounced off his hip, watching his arm fall to the deck nearby.

"You filthy cheatin' miscreant! A Ferengi woulda done me less dirty'n y'all just did! GIT YER ASS OFF'N MAH SHIP!!!" he roared at the formerly-leering prat, who was busy looking horrified at the mess he'd just made, what with all the gore and viscera laying about.

In a fluster of cluckery, the infantile godling flapped his hands around, making the horrid scene go away, as he discovered the Spook's blood on his own paisley. The various body parts vanished, as well as the spatter, and the remaining vital fluids stopped blasting from the Spymaster's form.

In a fiery ginger rage, Sam was sitting up, clawing his way up the nearby console, his great moustache moving like some terrible bellows, advancing inexorably toward Trelane, who backpedaled out of sheer bewilderment at the mortal's level of anger.

"Y-you can't just..."

"YOU. CHEATED." He'd grabbed a chair, and was using it like some unholy crutch to close the gap, pale as Jacob Marley, the sheer indignance pouring off him in waves of psychic miasma.

"Yer BANNED from th' table, y'snake! Git out!" His voice was weaker, now, but colder, like a professor explaining to a plagarist where he went wrong.

Trelane nearly tripped, as he felt the bulkhead behind him. "I'm sorry...I..."

With the light in his eyes fading slowly, Clemens stared at Trelane, disgust dripping from his countenance.

The immortal looked away, and wasn't there.

A moment later, a paper business card fluttered down from the air, to land on the still, prone form of the ship's Chief Intelligence Officer, where his hand rested on the intercom control.

"Terribly sorry. I do hope you get a leg up, old chap.

-T, Sq. Gothos"

As the USS Hera continued away from the disolving worldship, Lieutenant JG Doctor Asa Dael was walking through Sickbay, personally checking on each recovering crew member. The EMH had done excellent work in their absence, but the doctor still liked to check on each person themself. Coming to the biobed of Lieutenant Clemens, they paused in shock.

Sensing the EMH over their shoulder, Asa inquired, "It was a close one, huh? You did great work saving him. Have we arranged prosthetics yet?"

"Thank you." The EMH was looking at the charts for Mr Clemens as he spoke. "Yeah, they should be ready in a few days. I'll need your help with the grafts though. The last time it was done on this ship, it wasn't the most clean process and I'd like to make sure there's no feedback noise or issues."

"Of course, I am at available at your convenience. Has he woken up yet? For a man of his athleticism and physicality, I am concerned about his mental state."

"Not yet, but he should be soon if luck holds," replied the EMH.

"I think I will wait here then, I want him to have a friendly face waiting. It's the least he deserves, don't you think? Unless we have someone requiring more urgent attention.....?" Dael trailed off.

"Well... When I check on von Alcott..." the EMH began. He wasn't sure if he was experiencing a glitch or if one of those spirits had tagged along. "I've caught a glimpse of a young lady dressed all in black at the foot of her bed out of the corner of my senses. Sensors don't register anyone and I'm not experiencing any issues..."

After a moment of thought, Asa's eyes lit up with understanding, "Oh, that's just Death. She hitched a ride with us on the worldship and Schwein helped save her. I imagine she is just checking on her friend, unless the baroness condition has changed greatly? Try saying hi, I know its weird for a doctor to say, but she is an OK lady, I promise. Even if she does sometimes go invisible.".

The EMH just stared at Asa like the world had just gone mad and he was the only sane one left. "Right... Well, von Alcott should be up and about tomorrow, either way."

Clapping his shoulder gently as they walked to sit by Clemens bedside, Asa smiled and said, "Good to hear. Do you need some down time? I'll be here for a few hours at least. When were you last off duty?"

"My program has been running constantly for almost seven weeks now..." The holographic doctor looked concerned over this fact. "Why? Do you think I might be experiencing a failure of some sort?"

"No, not at all. It's just everyone else gets to rest, you should too. I'm sure you have non work things you wish to do. That reminds me, my old quarters are still empty. Would you like me to ask Commander Paris to assign them to you? Give you a place of your own..."

"My own quarters? I don't really see a need for that... I would like to have some off time so my program can rest and compile, but that's about it. I don't exactly need quarters... Do I?" The EMH looked at Asa like he was unsure of himself now.

"Not if you don't want them, just a thought. Why not go grab some rest? I will be here. Take your time, you have earned it. I just want you to be happy and fulfilled, so let me know what you need, ok?"

"Thank you, I... I'll give it some thought. Computer... Deactivate EMH." With a shimmer, the EMH deactivated himself, the PaDD he was holding dropping to the floor.

After picking up the PaDD, Asa drew a chair and tucked their feet under themself, sitting comfortably for the wait for the lieutenant to wake.

{...somewhere else entirely}

A loud set of sounds roused Sam from his dreamless slumber- the sounds of merriment, conversation, a steady chug-chug-chug, reverberating through the decking, and what sounded for all the world like a calliope, of all things.

He raised himself up on one elbow, and ran his other hand through the unruly shock of his hair, as he yawned, and in one fluid motion, swung his legs around and off his bunk, sitting up, squinting a bit at the golden sunlight streaming through the Westside porthole. He took a good long stretch, and stood, his longjohns a reminder that he needed to do some washboarding soon, lest he run out of work clothes- again.

He ambled over to the port, peering out at the West bank as it rolled by lazily, noting that they were nearly to Memphis, which would explain the steam organ playing. A sharp idea, playing as they approached ports, to entice out locals interested in the Belle Hera's various wares, from dancing, to games of chance, to fried and baked goods with exotic recipes, from all up and down the Mighty Missisip'.

He craned his neck to see the depth marks, noting that they rode high on a rain current this evening.

He smiled. It was good to be a riverboat crewman.

{In Sickbay}

Clemens smiled in his sleep, his vitals dropping imperceptibly...

Doctor Dael was curled up asleep in the chair near Clemens. They had expected him to wake by now, and had the best of intentions to be awake when he did. Long hours of reading and filing reports on a PaDD near Clemens bedside had caught up with Asa, who now slept with mouth slightly agape and snoring softly until the beep from the biobed woke them up.

Staring blearily at the display, it took Asa a few long moments to understand what was happening. The Lieutenant’s blood pressure had dropped slightly, and his heart rate and temperature were ever so slightly decreasing as well.

“Well, that’s usually not a great sign,” Asa said to themself. They started an IV to increase fluid intake and confirmed the plasma being fed into Clemen’s body was still operational, increasing output by 10%. After a brief moment to ensure all was operating as it should be, Asa went to the nearest replicator to grab a cup of coffee and settle in to hold vigil.

{On the River, after about three days}

Having finished up the day's shift, Sam got scrubbed down, and changed clothes. So far, the townspeople had been having a great time, and were definitely bringing not only their skills to the tables, but their hard-earned pay, as well. Most of them were losing a little, but overall enjoying their time aboard, on this late Spring night.

Sam strolled out on the deck, in his finery, grinning around his stogie. He was looking for a just the right table. He soon spotted the exact mix he was seeking- jolly, boozed-up buddies, trying to out-do one another. He discreetly winked at the hostess working the area, and she went to draw some more drafts for the table.

"Y'all look like yer havin' a good night, fellas. Mind if ah cut in?"

{In Sickbay, about three hours later}

Clemens' vitals had continued to drop, albeit slowly. There was a profound degree of increase in cortical activity, however, with a cycle that repeated about once an hour, with some minor variations.

The EMH and Doctor Asa Dael were watching Clemen’s vitals as a decrease in body temperature and blood pressure corresponded to another cortical spike. Frowning at the screen, Asa looked through several case studies that showed similarities.

“Well, it’s not a perfect match, but this almost looks like he’s conscious during anesthesia like it used to be done in 21st Century Earth. He’s clearly aware of something, although what I have no way of saying. I would normally never suggest an injection to force a recovering body with this degree of damage into consciousness, but I really don’t see too many alternatives right now. What do you think, Doctor?” Asa inquired of their colleague.

"I believe there may be a slightly closer precedent, actually," replied the EMH, setting aside his PaDD. "In many spiritual tribes across many cultures, when a person goes through a transformation and faces their death, they are often said to go on a spirit quest. Most doctors brush it off as inconclusive, but with the strangeness we've seen aboard this vessel... I would not rule it out that Mister Clemens is experiencing some sort of spiritual... Dream based journey. If so, the question then becomes if and how we might be able to assist him from here."

“What we need,” Asa said, “Is a way to bridge a telepathic link with him to guide him back to his body. I don’t know if a mind meld would be beneficial as it would likely be jarring to his psyche. What other member of the crew has the requisite telepathic abilities? If all else fails, I can ask Triton.”


Asa was scrolling through a crew manifest on a PaDD looking for psi rankings, but asked their colleague with encyclopedic knowledge in hopes of speeding up the process. If someone could bridge Asa to Clemens, the doctor would gladly wade into the brave man’s mind.

After a moment of consideration, Dael looked up at the Doctor. “Wait, if this is like a spirit journey, what did the shamans of the cultures that believed in such things recommend to anchor someone to their body, or to the land of the living?”

"Well it depended on the culture, but they usually prayed to the gods and made offerings of incense, food, or other valuable items," replied the holographic physician.

“Gods. Huh. Not sure that would really apply for Mr. Clemens here, but perhaps Death could help?”

Looking over to the corner of Sickbay where Death was known to lurk, Dael saw a familiar figure with pale skin in a long black dress. Knowing not everyone could see her, Asa made sure their smile was 10000-watt and welcoming. After all, if not everyone can greet a person, the greetings they do receive should make up for that fact.


“Hello there, how are you feeling?” Asa asked Death, wanting to make sure she was not suffering any ill effects from her recent separation from Baroness von Alcott.

The pale woman stepped out of a shadowed corner of sickbay and approached the foot of the bed, one finger to her lips. "Shh... Don't let the guards outside my room know I'm not where they think I am. I'm just here on business." She then flashed her own bright smile in reply. "But yes, I'm doing well, thank you."

The EMH was slightly taken aback by the new arrival. "I'm not sure who you are, young miss, but whatever business you have with Mister Clemens will have to wait. He's currently in no condition for visitors."

"Ah, so you can see me." The woman known as Death smiled up at the EMH in a friendly manner and extended one hand. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm the entity known as Death."

Without thinking, the holographic Doctor shook her hand before it hit him what she had said. "So... Death is a young Japanese girl wearing a..." Here he had to squint and search through his databases for a few moments to make sure he got the information right. "It looks like an 8th or 9th century Kyushu kimono."

Death's eyes widened in shock. "I haven't heard of anyone seeing me that way before. You are very rare indeed..." Keeping an eye on the EMH, she turned back to Samuel Clemens and gingerly placed her fingertips on the foot of his bed.

"What can you tell us?" Dael inquired of Death.

The pale woman took a moment before replying. "He seems to be on a vision quest and slowly slipping closer to my domain. If he is not provided with a means to find his way, he may be lost."

{At the table}

As Sam hauled the kitty to his side, he blew out the cigar smoke he'd been enjoying. His grin faltered a moment, as the cloud swirled itself into a face which bore a concerned look. He'd never seen her, before, and it faded before he could make much out.

It left him disturbed, as he shuffled the deck for the next round.

{Sickbay}

The monitors above Clemens' biobed twitched upward fractionally.

Looking at the display, Asa asked Death, "Can you get a message to him?"

"I'm working on it, but it would be best if it were someone whose energies were based in life rather than death," the literal incarnation of Death replied with a grin.


Rolling their eyes at their own error, Asa thumped their forehead with the palm of their hand in the universal "duh" gesture.

"Yeah, should have thought of that, eh? Ok, tell me what I need to do. This is all new stuff to me, and I am yet to find a manual."

Death grinned and pulled Asa where they were standing, guiding them to place their fingertips where hers were. "just rest your fingertips here and picture a slow flow of energy or light reaching out and guiding them like a stream from here." When she said 'here' she tapped Asa's sternum. "Here, feel your inner strength and energy like a great ball of life and light. Like a beacon. But don't overextend yourself."


"Yeah never been guilty of that before," Asa muttered with a wry grin.

Then the Doctor placed the fingertips of their left hand on Clemens temple. They thought of the swirls of energies Hera had shown them swirling through the universe and imagines the same whirlwind in Sickbay. Life was pouring through Asa, vibrant and pulsing. As they opened their eyes, Asa drew a quick breath, amazed at the light suffusing the room. The EMH had a bluish green halo around his form, and it seemed to move a fraction of a second before the Doctor shifted to look at them. The bacteria samples in stasis from a recent experiment glowed a mute yellow, and pure white light issued from Asa's on hand. Looking down to Clemens, Asa saw a softer white glow flowing out of him towards the one spot of darkness in the room, a black hole in the shape of Death.

Steeling their mind for what was to come, Asa pictured a tether of light, anchored deep in the core of their physical being. Pulling out the energy, bit by bit, Asa transferred the light into the resting mind of Clemens.

After closing their eyes to concentrate, Asa said softly, "Come on you old rascal. Dont give up on me now."

{Aboard the Belle Hera, some four months since the disturbance}

Sam finished up with greasing the anchor chain assembly, and wiped his hands, as he headed below, out of the blowing sleet of the upper deck.

Once he hung up his peacoat in the mess, he poured himself a strong coffee, savoring the smell of the potent brew, as it warmed his hands. The days and nights were getting colder, as Fall encroached upon the Twin Cities.

Despite this, the ship still had a full gaming deck, and it was his most ferverent intention to create a spirit of challenge up there, tonight, once he got cleaned up and dressed.

As he stepped out of the steam-heated shower (a notion he'd developed out of sheer cussed frustration with the many and varied foibles of trying to properly bathe in a tub while subject to river current), he made his way to the lavatory with his shaving kit.

The mirror, as expected, was thoroughly fogged, so he wiped it down, and settled into whipping up some lather. He patted it into place, and raised his straightedge, looking at his reflection, and began his ministrations, enjoying the smooth glide of the blade, as it flowed up the curve of his face.

He lowered the blade to empty it, glancing at the bowl as he tapped it under the water, and looked back up.

The face that gazed back was not his own.

He stared back at the impossibly-clean-shaven young face in the frame, seeing beyond the child another face, in the background. It was the young woman from the cloud.

He closed his eyes, and shook his head, muttering about too much whiskey, when a voice to the side, behind him, spoke.

"Son- y'might oughta pay attenshun to them. Ah didn't change muh ways jus' so's you could kick th'bucket on me a few hunnerd-odd yea'hs latuh..."

Sam whirled around, to find a man with a striking resemblance to his grandfather (great-great-great-great-great the back of his mind gibbered) standing there, dressed in white, smoking a stogie, dressed in better finery than Sam had ever been able to afford.

Before Sam could craft a reply, the old man waved his hand impatiently at the mirror, adding, "Lookit! They're tryin' t'talk to ya!"

So stunned was he, that Sam looked as directed, back at the mirror, where the scene was clearing to reveal that the youngster was wearing some sort of uniform, and the beautiful woman behind her was wearing a hooded cloak. The uniformed one was speaking, but the words were unclear.

Sam looked back to the old man just in time to see his eyes twinkle, as he tipped his hat, and patted his chest. Instantly, the man disappeared from view, as though a door had swiftly closed on him, with a swooshing sound.

Suddenly, he could hear a voice from the mirror clearly...

"...don't give up on me, now..."

{In Sickbay}

The Spookmaster General's vitals jumped by 20%.

Gasping with effort, Asa opened one eye at a beep from the biodbed’s display. Things were finally starting to turn around, but Clemens was not out of the woods yet.

“Um, about that whole over-extending myself thing? Might be closing in on that threshold...,” then turning to address the room as a whole, Asa said, “Can someone corporeal please join me? Preferably human? Not trying to be speciest here folks, just doing a life force infusion, and I’d rather use same type please…”

Aside from the EMH, Death, Dael, and Clemens the current occupants of Sickbay included one Kasheeta, one Catullan, and one lone human. The human male appeared to be fresh out of the Academy, and Asa reflected remembering his name- Ensign John Carrott- a name that fit the shocking amount of red hair sticking up from his head and freckles that almost doubled as a tan. The ensign had just been assigned to the Hera a mere two months ago, and was fresh out of the academy. Asa had not had oppoertunity to work with him much as they appeared to be on opposing shifts mainly, but he had seemed like a good bloke.

The moment Carrott realized he was the only person who fit the proverbial bill, his face paled and a look of fear overtook his face. The ensign likely could not see Death, nor could he see the energies whizzing throughout the room, but he had enough sense to know that he was a bit out of his depth.

Sensing the ensigns trepidation, Asa said softly, “Hey John, it’s ok. I’m not going to let you get hurt, ok? Our brave Lieutenant Clemens here is just a bit lost in his head, so I need some help anchoring him so he can find his way home. The Doctor will be monitoring us both and will speak up if things are going too far. My orders, I promise.”

Carrott seemed to steele his face for a moment before he began walking over to Dael’s now outstretched hand. Taking it firmly in his own, he simply said, “Aye, Lieutenant. Whatever you need.”

Asa felt a rush of pride at the young man- freely offering of his own energies and trusting to the Doctor’s new skill. They were determined to not let either Clemens or Carrott down, and gave the man’s hand a squeeze before continuing.

In their mind, Asa pictured joining their energies to Carrott’s and Clemens, forming a bridge for humanity to flow through, to call out to, to anchor in reality. It felt not entirely dissimilar from conducting an orchestra while standing on one foot and humming a different tune, but having Carrott to lean on propped the doctor up metaphysically. They felt their own energies surge forth again, calling to Clemens with two minds. The fear Carrott was feeling also flowed through, so Asa pictured a mental image of light and bravery, a mental image of how brave they considered Carrott to be in this moment, an image of a Starfleet Officer standing against the dark to save another and mentally sent it over through their bond to both Clemens and Carrott. Asa knew precious little about what they were doing and hoped the two men perceived what they were doing.

Then, sensing the fear from Carrott begin to ebb, Asa pictured a rope of energy flowing into Clemens mind- a lifeline to find their way home. Mentally, Asa pictured themself with one hand joined to Clemens, one to Carrott, firmly anchored in Sickbay, in the present.

“That’s where you are, ok? No need to go on a vision quest, your purpose is here Clemens. I stand in the gap, between where your mind has strayed and where it must return. Feel the lifeline of my energy, I give you a rope, but you gotta climb back home. I know you can do it, you are too stubborn not to. Carrott here shared with you his humanity, his sameness to you. Feel who he is, feel how he is anchored to me as well, to where we are, to this moment. Use my energy, join it with your own, and come back to us. You are needed here, sir. This boat just ain’t the same without you.”

The pale embodiment of Death grinned and nodded. "You're doing very well. Keep it up."

{In the head of the Belle Hera}

The Gambling Gentleman peered at the apparitions in his looking glass, as the kid told him about the other kid in the background. They were in a room of strange design, wearing what amounted to bedclothes, though smartly-tailored.

He knew that something was out of whack, obviously. This wasn't some Lewis Carroll tale where magic mirrors were real. Logically, that meant that either he was sick...or already quite far around the bend.

...and then there was his (great-great-great-great-to-the-nth-degree-hee, hee!) grandfather's appearance a few minutes ago.

He decided that if they were going to be carrying him off his boat (this boat, the kid had said...another one??), he was triple-damned if he was gonna be buck-nekkid and half shaven when it happened. He set about finishing his shave, and talking with the odd folks in Wonderland.

"Y'all sure do dress funny over there. Ma'h 'pologies, but ah missed yuh name, son. If'n I'm gonna climb through to see the Red Queen, Ah'll need ta be dressed proper." He continued shaving with his straight razor as he talked, able after all these years to go by the feel of his face as to whether he was getting it close enough.

Asa felt a slight tug at the rope of energy anchored into Clemens, but then a pause. Opening one eye, they saw the Lieutenant’s vitals were stable, but still not improving. Looking to Death and the EMH, to doctor said, “I don’t know what else we can do here. If I feed any more energy into him, I’m going to fizzle- I can feel how stretched out I am, and I don’t think Hera has the energy supplies to help me a second time. What do I do?”

{On the Belle Hera, several hours later...}

Sam was tired of staring at the painting that had once been the looking glass for the ship's head.

The young person (he still had yet to discern whether girl or boy, or maybe fae?) had turned their head away, and the entire glass had become still, like a becalmed sea. He had waited, but decided to finish getting dressed, since his earlier resolution was unchanged- he was going nowhere without looking proper.

But this was an odd occurrence within an odd occurrence, and he finally resolved to break whatever stalemate had erupted. Fever dream, poisoning, unhinging, or giggling gods be damned, he had a life to get on with.

Not knowing what he might have to deal with in Wonder/Never/Newfound-Land, he'd taken the time to pack a few items in his satchel, hang his service blade and scabbard off one hip, and his revolver off the other. He'd thought of wearing his usual finery, but had decided upon a more robust wardrobe: his newly-purchased coveralls, delivered just a day ago to him at the Minneapolis Postal Office, fresh from the Sears and Roebuck Company. These featured a removable insulated lining, which, considering the time of year, he had elected to leave snapped-in. The pockets, he'd filled with some hard tack, biscuits, and a couple of flasks of brandy (one never knows where one may end up, on such an adventure). His timepiece, freshly-wound, was in its proper pocket.

He was ready to explore this strange, new world.

Stepping forward, he grasped the frame of the mirror, and confidently stepped through.

{In sickbay, some thirty seconds after Asa's question was posed...}

Clemens' vitals began rising, steadily, alpha waves cycling through hundreds of permutations within seconds, before settling down.

There was an enormous clatter in the corner, as multiple items appeared in the air, then fell to the deck.

Coveralls, a pocket watch, a satchel, a scabbarded sword, boots, and a Colt .45 Revolver, all clattered into a pile.

From the biobed, a grumpy voice was heard, as the Spooky Action At Close Proximity pushed himself up on his left arm...

"What's with all th'noise, folks? A man's tryin' t'recovuh from suhgery, in heah..."

Looking in confusion at the items that materialized from nowhere, Asa released Carrott’s hand and slowly ceased pouring energy into Clemens. Once it was clear the man was going to remain conscious, they turned to him and surprised him with a huge hug.

“Don’t do that you old scoundrel! We almost lost you to some fool vision quest. Don’t you know there is universe here enough to explore! I…I don’t suppose you have any idea why things materialize when you wake up? Because I gotta say sir, that is not a symptom covered in any classical textbooks.”

Without waiting for a response, Asa pulled up a chair and sat down heavily, exhausted by their efforts of feeding energy into Clemens. Looking to Death and the EMH the doctor said, “We in the clear folks?”

The pale woman smiled softly. "I have no further reason to be here."

The EMH just looked up from his tricorder flabbergasted. "None of these readings make any sense..."

"Thank you, friend," Asa said softly, with a friendly smile towards Death.

"Well, Doctor, much of life doesn't make sense, but let's just be glad it's in our favor this time, eh? How do you feel Lieutenant?"

The Ginger Gambler yawned, and worked his jaw, then reached to feel the skin there, with his new right arm, by sheer reflex.

"Well, ah'm impressed with whoevuh shaved me- m'face hasn't been this smooth since th'last time ah visited Kansas Citeh an' had mah granpa's bahbuh give me a straight razuh job. Who knew we had a striped pole heah on thuh Hera?"

Suddenly, he stopped, and stared at his right arm, then down at his legs.

"Did we hafta chicken out, Asa? These can't be cybuhnetic- ah've not had time t'larn 'em, yet."

He saw the girl in the cloak, then, and noted, "Ah don't b'lieve ah've had thuh pleasuh, madam. Name's Clemens, Samuel El."

She smiled and nodded to him politely. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm..." Death glanced at Asa, then back at Clemens. It seemed one more person aboard the Hera could see her so she might as well come clean on who she was. "I'm Death. You almost died. That's why I'm here. Now if you'll excuse me..." With a bright smile and a polite wave, the pale woman, headed out of sickbay as silently as she had entered.

“Chicken out my lilly white rear end, sir. Those are cybernetic…you just decided to learn how to use them on a vision quest it would seem. Congratulations, you have weaseled out of three weeks of physical therapy, Lieutenant. So, how does it feel having cheated both Death and Life of their usual due? Hungry work?” A twinkle shown in Asa’s eye as they asked after how their patient was feeling. The relief at having snatched him back from the breach was giving way to a mild form of mania, as it usually did, a mania Asa used to further care for their patients by ensuring all their needs were met- both physical, emotional, and in this case, humor.

Clemens stared at the...well, Death Girl, as she left. Then he stared at his hand....his toes...and then at Asa, obviously playing her later words back in his head to formulate a response.

"Well, um...yeah- ah'm pretty fahmish'd, actshully." He was looking at his other arm, which had sterile areas marked, as well as the left leg, which had similar marks. "Ah see y'all wuh able tuh do thuh secundareh load balance implants, too? That's pretty nifteh, Docs."

"T'ansuh yuh othuh question, she didn't seem ta act like she'd been cheated, which ah s'pose is a good thing. Ah nevuh imagined Death would have such a gawjus smile, tho." He looked thoughtful.

"Never speak in anger...”

On the Runabout, Selune, this was the advice that Rita Paris had given Mnhei'sahe Dox concerning the young pilot's burgeoning relationship with Ensign Mona Gonadie. Paris said, “I have seen more damage done from a slip of the tongue and words spoken in anger than anything else in a relationship."

Paris wasn't speaking about Dox's friendship with the Hera's Captain, Enalia Telvan. But Dox had chosen to take the spirit of the words to her newfound concerns over her recent appointment as the latest Baroness of the Captain's Artan Pirate family. They were concerns that needed addressing, but Dox was committed to not allowing her initial feelings over that concern taint this new relationship. But she still needed to talk to the Captain about it.

To that end, she had put in a written request first thing in the morning to meet with the Captain to discuss 'questions and concerns regarding my appointment as Baroness Fifth Class'. Dox was nervous and had begun second-guessing the wording of the request as perhaps to official or formal sounding, but second guessing herself was something Dox excelled at. The anxious aviatrix wanted answers but she also wanted to preserve the growing friendship that she believed in with her Captain.

The relationships that were forming in her short few months on the Hera were important to her and she was committed to not allowing her own self-doubt poison that.

Sitting at the small table in her quarters, Dox had just finished off a bowl of warm oatmeal for breakfast and was looking over a PaDD with her work for the day on it when she received her response in the form of her door chime going off.

When she received the message, Enalia had decided to address this sooner than later and stopping in at Dox's quarters before work for a more personal talk was either a good idea or a bad idea. She'd soon find out which it was as she straightened her uniform and pressed the door chime.

Momentarily startled, Dox stood up and walked over to the door. For a brief second she wondered if it might be Mona as she opened the door. "Captain?" She replied, somewhat surprised. She didn't expect a personal visit, however, and her stomach did a flip flop.

But she had made the request to speak and so needed to boost her resolve and do so. Still, the young lieutenant was understandably nervous. "Uh... would you like to come in?"

"Thank you." Enalia stepped into the somewhat spartan quarters and glanced around with a polite smile as the doors closed. "You asked to see me? It sounded like it was a somewhat private inquiry so I figured somewhere you're comfortable would be best."

"Uh... thank you, Captain." Dox was nervously trying to work up her courage but didn't want to forget basic politeness. "Can I get you anything?"

"Well, a place to sit would be nice," Enalia teased, flashing her lopsided grin at Dox. "Relax, I'm not going to bite or anything. I only do that with my wife."

Smiling lightly, Dox walked over to the small couch and chair that come with the room and gestured to the chair while taking a seat on the couch opposite.

The spotted woman sat down in the chair like she did her chair on the bridge without thinking - knees together, hands on the hand rests, back upright, and looking like she owned it. "So... What's on your mind? You mentioned your appointment as Baroness."

Sitting across, Dox's posture was slightly slumped and her hands were crossed in her lap. She paused for a second before taking a breath. "I was... Last night I was talking with Baroness von Alcott. Mostly just catching up on everything, really. But eventually the topic worked itself around to my Mother."

Sitting up a little straighter, Dox continued. "And she mentioned... the Baroness Sienae Nei'rrh of the Romulan Refugee Corps. That she was undecided regarding what side she might fall on during the tribunal. She also mentioned that... her and most.of her crew is comprised of refugees that my Mother and I got out of Romulus. I... I didn't know any of that."

Her tone shifted slightly to a more serious tone, with a slight pleading to it. "You... told me that my name was a factor in you choosing me for this assignment on the Hera. That you owed my mother a debt. But that I also earned my place as well. And... I guess I need to hear that again. Because... I can't stop being afraid now that I'm not here because of my abilities or who I am... as an officer. But because of who my Mother is. I'm sorry... I understand that this is my own insecurities bleeding out."

"Ah, yeah... That makes sense..." Pulling out a small PaDD, Enalia pulled up the list of names she had had to pick from for her new CFCO, which took a few. "Out of these fifteen names I was given, no record really stood out among them so I'll be honest. I chose you out of that fifteen because of your name and our prior ties." She then offered the PaDD to Dox to peruse.

"As for you yourself, that first mission you proved yourself and I knew I could trust you. I doubt even half of those names could have taken nearly so well to my tactics or come up with their own like you have. That's why, when I needed backup for my trip to the auction because Schwein was still injured, I turned to you. I had that ID made a few days prior just in case and I fully expected you to hand it back afterwards."

"But you didn't." Enalia breathed in deeply through her nose, preparing for what she was about to say. "I know you ran away from that sort of life. Hells, I did too for the most part. But there are a lot of good people out there that you and your mother helped that are a part of the Artan family now and if I didn't at least offer you some sort of... Closure with... I don't think I would be doing my best as a Starfleet Captain or as Princess of the Artan Pirates."

Relaxing a little, Dox sat back on the couch a little. "Thank you, Captain. I won't lie... I... I enjoyed that trip to the auction. It really was a reminder that not every aspect of my life back then was horrible." She chuckled lightly.

"It felt good to be... asked in for a change. So, when you didn't ask for the ID, I clung to it. I was proud of it... I still am. I just... I needed to ask. I needed to know, if that makes any sense. So, thank you."

"You're very welcome." The Trill Captain smiled warmly and genuinely. "As for the tribunal... I had no idea it would happen. My mother is a horrible, controlling, evil person... Nothing I ever did was good enough. My father wasn't either. My sister always excelled though. Pretty sure she had her augmented with Schwein's DNA. When I gave you those orders in sickbay, afterwards I was afraid I had finally snapped and was starting to act like her."

Hanging her head, Dox remembered her last conversation with her own Mother and how badly it had gone. "I... can understand that. So desperately not wanting to become her and finding yourself doing it anyway. I'm sorry. And... I'm sorry that I didn't even think to question those orders. I was so angry... so blind that I knew what it meant and did it anyway."

Looking up at the Captain, Dox continued. "Hera telling me that we were being... Influenced. It doesn't change the feeling that I had to want in on some level to be influenced to begin with. It doesn't take away that fear for me. Of becoming that again."

"I think that's where our Angel in Gold comes in. I have a feeling she has more sway over them than they have over her. I know it's a lot to put on her, but..." the spotted woman paused dramatically as she stared into Dox's eyes with all seriousness. "I've come to rely on her for stability. To keep my way when I start to waver off the Starfleet path."

Smiling back sincerely, Dox replied. "Yeah... I absolutely understand that. I... kind of do, too. It's good to have a compass." It was a strange conversation to be having with her Captain, but it was clear that both women had learned to rely on Rita Paris to slap them upside the proverbial heads when they wandered off course.

"She's a damn good navigator," Enalia confirmed with a smile. "So was there anything else you wanted to ask about? Anything about the tribunal? Swordplay? How I've balanced it with Starfleet before meeting Rita?... Relationship advice?"

"I really don't know much of anything about the tribunal and I talked to Schwein about scheduling some time to learn how to handle a sword and..." Dox was answering the questions before she had fully processed the last one. "Relationship advice?"

Groaning comically, Dox continued with an awkward laugh. "Is there anyone on board that doesn't know I went on a date at this point?"

"Well, I've heard that the EMH is the last to hear about ship gossip. If you get a talk from him about contraceptives and safe sex..." Enalia was obviously teasing now, but there was some truth to her words.

"I'm ready for the tribunal, now." Dox buried her face in her hands as she moaned. "Skip the lessons and just stab me now."

The spotted captain chuckled softly and leaned in to pat her half Romulan counterpart on the shoulder. "I think it would be best that you get some lessons in first. And that you enjoy your love life while you can. After all, finding someone that looks at you and doesn't see your wounds as disasters, but cracks to pour their love into... It can be an amazing thing. From what I've heard, you might have found that. Now if you could get her to open up about her own past... That has yet to be seen."

Raising her head back up, Dox replied with an awkward grin. "I'll settle for a second date and go from there. But thanks. For everything."

"Glad I could help." Standing, Enalia tugged down on her uniform top and straightened it out before heading to the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have bridge duty this morning. I don't want to be late or Commander Paris might reprimand me."

Smiling, Dox got up and adjusted her uniform and picked up her PaDD with a light smile. "Absolutely. Duty calls."

It had been a couple of days since Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox had finally asked her co-worker and friend, Ensign Mona Gonadie to Ten-Forward for dinner. Just a couple of days since the perpetually anxious young pilot had finally confessed the feelings she had been harboring for her Miradonian friend. And much to Dox's surprise, the avian aviatrix felt much the same way. Warm words and tenderness were shared and dinner was taken back to Dox's quarters where a hesitant first kiss was exchanged. They ate and talked and decided to take things slowly to keep from rushing in and parted ways after a long, wonderful evening.

Now it was a couple of days later, and things had been good. The two share an office on the Flight Deck and there had been no problems maintaining a working relationship so far and no signs of any sense of awkwardness being together at work. But awkwardness and self-doubt were Mnhei'sahe Dox's most common companions in life and she needed to make sure that what they shared was real. So tonight, it was time to have a second date. She had asked Mona if she's like to spend some time on the holodeck that evening for dinner and Mona happily agreed. But this invitation was being planned a bit more thoroughly and Dox wasn't going to show up in her uniform again.

In her quarters, she had been scrolling through a catalog of dress designs on her PaDD and programming a locale for the holodeck that she hoped Mona would enjoy. Something that had personal meaning for the young half-Romulan pilot that had spent almost all of her life in space. She had considered dinner intently, preparing a menu for the Officer's mess to prepare and have beamed to the holodeck. Mona loved eggs and seafood based on the meals Dox had observed and hoped that her idea to plan out the entire meal in advance wasn't a massive mistake, but if so the ship's replicators would be ready to make a course correction with a few alternate menus she had prepared. On her nightstand was a long, thin wooden box not unlike the shape of a shoebox, though only half the width, wrapped in shimmering, Pearlescent paper with a golden bow around it.

Uploading the dimensions made during her full body scan for EVA armor a month ago now, Dox had decided on a dress and submitted the request. Moments later, a small box materialized in her replicator containing her selection. She had already gone to see the ships stylist, Sharonne Washington, to have her hair styled as it's thick, red curls sat pinned up slightly and she had spent considerably more time on her face than the two minutes she normally spends slapping on some light lipstick before work. Now all she had to do was head to the holodeck, activate the program, change and wait.
___________________

Mona Gonadie had always been good at preening, but this time she had taken extra care in the grooming of her feathers. She made sure to clean and fluff every one and check for anything unusual twice after her sonic shower just to make sure everything was perfect. She then spent several minutes in front of her armoire trying to pick out a dress. Eventually, she settled on a nice purple and blue number that showed off her legs nicely but didn't ride up too far. It had some nice fluffy bits on the shoulders she liked, which is why she had gotten it. She just hoped Mnhei'sahe liked it as well.

With one more fluffing of her head and tail, she blew a kiss at the mirror and headed out to meet her for their date.

As Mona approached the doors to the Holodeck, they slid open with a gentle swoosh. Inside, was the projection of a wondrous sight. Before Mona, was the opalescent, black hull of the saucer of the Hera, herself, seeming to stretch out forever. In the void of simulated space spreading above the expanse of the surface of the magnificent Starship was the swirling colors of the nebula known as the pillars of creation. Thousands of stars seemed to twinkle unrealistically close, as the colors and lights reflected off of the hull.

And in the center, atop a flattened platform where the bridge dome would normally be, was a table set for two with the gift box in its center. Standing next to it, fidgeting slightly, stood Mnhei'sahe. She wore a shimmering, low hemmed gold princess cut dress that extended to mid-ankle. Atop, she wore a black mesh, three-quarter sleeve shawl. She smiled broadly as she looked at Mona.

The brightly plumed Miradonian grinned pleasantly as she stepped out onto the hull she'd never touched normally before. The view was breathtaking, but as seemingly amazing as it was it only held her attention for a moment before her eyes were drawn back to the only things in the room her eyes told her was real. The person at the center and the table with the box on it.

"Ah, the holodeck. It creates pretty images, doesn't it? I haven't been in one since the academy, myself." She reached out for Dox's hands with her own and went in for a kiss as she got close.

With her characteristic nervousness, Dox took Mona's hands and slowly returned the kiss. It was as electric as their first as, once again, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. After a moment, the two pulled apart.

Looking up, Dox scrunched her face slightly. "I... I wanted to show you something... some... place that meant something to me. But the more I thought about it, it wasn't anywhere on Earth. I only lived there a few years. And I've never set foot on Romulus."

Looking back at Mona, she smiled awkwardly. "I've lived in space most of my life. So... I wanted to share that idea... with you."

"It's very lovely. Thank you." Mona pulled her half Romulan love into a tender hug and worried over what this meant for their third date. Would she expect Mona to come up with something like this? Something from her homeworld or her childhood? The more she thought about it, the more nervous she was getting, so she decided to just brush it off for now and just enjoy this time for what it was. "So... We'll be eating here then?"

"Uh... I thought that might be different, but..." As she spoke, Dox felt a shift in Mona's tone. "We don't have to... I'm sorry... did I do something wrong?"

Mona smiled reassuringly. "No, it's just that the holodeck has never looked real to me. Miradonians can see a lot more of the spectrum than most races, remember? We evolved it as a sort of defensive measure against predators. It is lovely seeing the stars the same way you see them though." With what she hoped was reassurance, she looked out over the starfield that the holodeck was displaying. "This is meaningful to you, and I appreciate that you're sharing it with me."

Sighing, Dox slumped slightly. "I'm sorry. I over thought this so much that I forgot about... I'm sorry. We can... we don't have to do this." Her anxiety was beginning to spiral. "I can't believe I thought... the Holodeck... this dress... I ruined everything. I'm sorry."

Mona snuggled tighter with her little bundle of anxiety and looked deep into her eyes. "No, don't worry about it. We're here now. That's what's important. Not the room or where or how. Not even what we're wearing. Just you and me. That's what matters." She then pressed her forehead to Dox's tenderly. "That's what matters to me. That I have someone I care about with me. Ok?"

Taking a few calming breaths, Dox tried to smile awkwardly and instead just kept her forehead against Mona's. "Thank you. I'm... I just didn't want to disappoint you. Our first... our first date was Ten-Forward and my practically empty quarters with me in a uniform. I wanted to try and come up with something better."

"Anything... Anywhere... If you're there, it's better." Taking a deep breath, Mona's voice shook a bit as she spoke her next words, her eyes closed. "I grew up on the only colony world my people ever settled on. Do you want to know what happened there? Why we abandoned that colony and never settled another?"

Rapidly, Dox's anxiety shifted into an immediate concern. She had heard from the Captain that Mona was hesitant to talk about her past. She brought a hand up and began gently running it across the feathers on the back of her head, just barely caressing them as she spoke. "Only if you're okay talking about it. But I'm here. I'm here for everything."

Mona nodded and buried her face in Dox's shoulder for a moment before working up the courage to say anything else. "Compu..." For a moment, the words stuck in her throat. "Computer... Switch program to the Miradonian cages on colony world Etanus four Camp nine." With a shimmer, the holodeck changed from the hull of the USS Hera to steel cages in a lush jungle filled with Miradonians tended by Orion and Gorn. Mona buried her face back in Dox's shoulder, tears streaming down her face and her shoulders shaking. "In one year... They ate my whole family..."

Clutching Mona as tightly as she possibly could, Dox began to weep along with the shuddering woman in her arms. "Oh God, Mona..." Dox put her hand tightly on the back of Mona's head to keep her close to keep her from looking any more. But she looked. She took in every horrible detail and squeezed her tighter. "Computer, end program."

The images vanished and the pair was now standing in the yellow gridded black room. Just them and the box on the table. "Oh, Mona. I can't... I can't imagine... I'm so sorry."

The words came out in a whisper while Dox held Mona tight. It was all she could do in the moment.

Mona clung tighter as she continued to cry. After a little bit, she started to calm down and she rubbed her face against Dox's. "That's why anywhere with you is better. That's why I work so hard. When Starfleet rescued us... There were only a few dozen of us left... After I finished my schooling on the homeworld, I joined Starfleet. The teasing..."

Mona had to recompose herself again before she could continue. "I have no interest in rank or responsibility. Just in flying and research. This is why. I want to help make the hopes and dreams of everyone lost come true. Starfleet has helped me do that."

Putting a hand to Mona's cheek, Dox spoke softly. "That I understand. Starfleet got me away from the smuggling ship I grew up on. Starfleet brought me here..." Gently, she lifted Mona's face up so their eyes me. "Brought me to you."

With tears beading on her feathers, Mona looked deep into her love's eyes. "I think I've bonded to you, Mnhei'sahe Dox. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Without hesitation, she went in for another kiss, this one deeper than the rest.

Her head felt like it was swimming through space as Dox embraced Mona, kissing her back as deeply. Overwhelmed, the young part-Romulan woman felt her knees go loose as she moved her lips from Mona's lips, to her cheeks and down to her neck, breathing heavily and feeling a warmth from inside her radiate outwards.

Pulling slightly back, Dox's voice was low and breathy. "I want you to tell me... everything that that means." Then she swallowed, her throat dry. "But not here."

The brightly plumed Miradonian nodded silently and just held on tightly. "When you're ready then."

Looking in Mona's deep, Amber eyes as tears still ran down her own cheeks, Dox nodded with a smile. "I... I am."

---------------------

The dresses the two women had worn were now strewn on the floor of Mona Gonadie's living quarters, leaving a trail to her bedroom. It has been hours since the Holodeck where the evening had begun.

Laying within the center of the large round pillow filled slightly concave nest-like bed, Mnhei'sahe was curled up against Mona, gently stroking the soft plumage on her chest. "So... you're bonded to me?" Her voice was deep and gentle.

The brightly plumed Miradonian was trilling softly as she nuzzled against the half Romulan she was sharing her nest with. "My people normally only mate for life. Do you know how most birds on most planets will bond to a mother figure upon hatching or decide on one mate for life? It's like that. I saw you and after a few days... Especially after your genetic repairs and your hormones kicked in... It was like a peace settled over me every time I saw you. Every time I went to bed and woke up, you were on my mind. Just thinking about you could bring a smile to my face. Before I lost my mother, she said that there were two magical moments in every Miradonian's life. When you found your mate and when you had your first hatchlings."

"So if I'm not bonded to you, then I don't know what this is."

In the moment, Mnhei'sahe's usual anxiety was gone. Instead, she only felt warmth and comfort and happiness as she could feel Mona's soft trilling through her skin where their bodies were pressed together. "I know the feeling. I've been... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Then, she scooched up on the nest to roll up slightly over the top of Mona. "So, that means I'm yours... You're mine, huh? I can work with that. So, now what?" She asked, smiling, as she ran her fingers across Mona's cheeks.

"Now we take good care of each other, I suppose," Mona replied, reaching up to lightly trace one finger along the lines of Dox's face.

"Well, since you know the mess you're signing up for, I'm in. And I have it on good authority from multiple sources that I'm sticking around for a good while, you'll be stuck with me a long time." Dox chuckled as she reached across to the still wrapped gift box she placed next to the bed when they arrived and placed
it gently on Mona's middle.

Mona looked the box over, inspecting it carefully over her prodigious bosom and looking for a way to open it up carefully.

"When Starfleet brought me to Earth, they found my father's parents. I only lived with them for a few years, but when they passed away, they left their possessions to me. Commander Paris and I collected it when we were on shore leave." Dox patted the box slightly.

"These used to be theirs. I... I remembered them and they made me think of you, so I wanted you to have them." Dox had a slightly nervous smile

Carefully sliding the top off of the wooden box, Mona gasped slightly at the delicate contents.

In the box, on an ornate, gilded wire stand, were three polished crystals in the shape of eggs. Each one a different rainbow of colors. The one in the center closely resembling the pinks, yellows, purples and blues in Mona's own vivid plumage.

"They're absolutely gorgeous! Thank you so much! I adore them!" Without skipping a beat, Mona readjusted and lined them up on the upper level of her nightstand. "There. I can see them best when I'm thinking of you every morning and evening right there."

As Mona was on her side to place the gift on her nightstand, Dox wrapped her arm around the Miradonian's middle and spooned behind her, moaning slightly with a smile. "I'm glad you like them. I was a little worried... I mean... eggs are kind of suggestive, I suppose. But it felt right. I wanted you to have them."

"Are they? I do love eggs... And most birds do lay eggs..." Mona snuggled back lovingly, pulling Dox's arm around her a bit tighter and smiling up at the trio of crystal eggs. "But we evolved to live birth our hatchlings a few thousand years ago. A lot of our language still hasn't caught up, and we normally have two or three chicks at a time still... But it is what it is."

Dox smiled as she snuggled in tighter as she thought of how happy she was in that moment. Happy wasn't something she generally knew what to do with, but she was learning. And she liked it.

As she felt herself sink deeper into Mona's nest and drift off to what would be the first truly contented sleep in her life, she whispered softly and without hesitation, "I love you."

"I love you too," was the whispered reply.

In the grand scheme of things, there were certain universal constants that could be relied upon. Stars would exert gravity, ferenghi would always try to profit, and Rita Paris was never late. But tonight she was, as Lieutenant Dox had been waiting at the holotheater for her anachronistic first officer, who had been promising to finally share with the young, half-Romulan pilot the 20th Century Earth film, 'The Wizard of Oz.'

It was in response to a bizarre incident during the Hera's time at the Worldship of the gods, in which Dox and Ensign Gonadie were attacked by a particularly wicked Witch and her flying monkeys while on a mapping mission in a runabout. Neither alien woman had the foggiest idea what had happened, and Rita had been wanting to enlighten Dox. Hence, the appointment this evening. But Rita hadn't shown.

Checking with the computer confirmed that the golden clad officer was in her office still. But something in the back of Dox's mind told her to go check on the dynamic dame in person.

As she entered the office of the Deck 2 office of the far-flung first officer, the sight that greeted Mnhei’sahe Dox was somewhat unexpected. She’d been in the office before, and while it was by no means spartan, it was not a cluttered mess, filled with bricabrac and alien artifacts and trophies and souvenirs. However, Rita Paris’ old office on the Exeter, as viewed through the insights and capabilities of the titan sliver who had previously been trapped in the Hera’s holographic system, was quite the cluttered mess. It was not what the redheaded Romulan had expected to see when she entered.

Nor was the sight of said second in command hastily mopping at her eyes as she was caught in the act of weeping, it would seem.

“Miss Dox, what can I do for you?” she asked, her voice a bit off from sinus pressure as she blew her nose into a tissue.

Without missing a beat, Dox stepped in so the door would close behind her. "You were late and I was worried. What's wrong, Rita?"

Skipping formal titles, Dox approached her friend.

“Oh… y’know, it’s nothing. Just an old lady being maudlin and sentimental,” Rita explained with an unconvincing smile.

It was an unspoken rule of the USS Hera that Rita Paris was a terrible liar. Unconvincing and easy to spot, when she did attempt falsehood it was practically comedic just how poorly she managed such efforts. Honest to a fault, hiding the truth or deliberately misleading others simply wasn’t something she was capable of mastering. It made her earnest nature that much more believable, but in moments like this when she was trying to hide the truth, it worked against her. Sniffling strongly, she tried to slide on a mask of friendly professionalism that didn’t quite fit today.

But Dox knew Rita better than that and wasn't buying it. "I've seen that. This isn't that." She walked over slowly to the side of the desk and leaned in. Softly, she continued. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

As she asked, a part of the answer filled itself in for the anxious but fairly observant officer. "This is about what happened during shore leave, isn't it? Not what happened with Asa or me. But what happened with you and Sonak and the Captain?"

It was asked as a question, but said with certainty. "Rita, what's wrong?"

“No, it’s…” Rita started to protest, then she saw the look in the junior officer’s eye, and stopped trying. “Fine. Yes, it’s about all of that.”

“I… I was back on Earth and back in San Francisco, so I wanted to see Starfleet Command.” As she spoke, her voice was soft and low, and there was considerable restrained emotion in the throwback from another time and place’s tone. As she spoke, one hand supported her head with outstretched fingers, while another gripped the arm of her office chair with a rather pronounced urgency. “I haven’t seen it in a very long time, and San Francisco had been basically plowed under by the USS Revenge… ah, long story, didn’t happen here,” Rita casually waved off explanation of the past history of the universe from whence she had come, which often did not match what had come to pass in this universe.

“Turned out that was another brilliant Paris plan that went horribly wrong, as apparently getting near that grand central station of transporters in the lobby was more dangerous than I thought. As I understand it, I nearly caused a subspace inversion to occur as my old time and universe were apparently trying to drag me back where I belong via transporter, as I was accumulating transporter energy on both sides of the reality wall. I don’t really understand all of the science and I don’t pretend to, but they said I was causing transporter malfunctions just by being in the lobby.” The casual manner in which she discussed it belied the anxiety that it caused her just to recall the incident, as beads of sweat broke out across her forehead, and that white-knuckled grip was not loosening in the least.

As Rita talked, Dox had quickly slid to one knee and put her hand over her commander's white knuckles. Dox knew all too well the horror that transporters represented to Paris and was already working to keep her own face clear of the overt concern she was feeling. And had Paris said nothing more, Dox would understand the panic she was feeling from her friend, but she knew there was more. Whatever happened had put the Captain in radiation burn treatment for days so Dox pulled out a fresh tissue and handed it to Rita and asked, "Who's 'they'?"

“Heh,” Rita chuckled mirthlessly. “In this case ‘they’ was the DTI, the Department of Temporal Investigations. Delightful people, as you might imagine. There was talk of unzipping reality, opening a time/space wormhole that would consume everything for a lightyear or two, and you know, standard ‘if Rita’s involved of course it must be cataclysmic’ kinda stuff.” While she was working to keep her tone light, it was clear that just revisiting the memory frightened the ordinarily brave officer. When she spoke again, her voice began to crack and tears started to flow. ”I just… I just wanted to see home, you know? See how Starfleet Command had changed, not find out I was a threat to reality and my own home system.”

“But you know me, never do anything small. So DTI cornered me on the roof and they wanted me to go to their super-secret headquarters in Ohio… right? How weird is that?” Rita tried to smile, but it turned into something of a sad parody of itself, as she fought to hold it together enough to retell the story.

Stepping up off of her knee, Dox scooched herself onto the corner of Rita's desk, moving clutter aside so she could see her eye to eye. "Okay... take your time. Cry if you need to. You know I understand that, right? Do you need me to get you some water?"

“No, I’m... I’m fine,” Rita lied poorly, pressing on in the story because despite not wanting to, she couldn’t help it. She had to tell someone what she’d done, and it seemed Dox was the confessor of choice. “So I called in Sonak, because if anything was going to happen I wanted him there, and the Captain showed up too, and that’s how I knew it was serious, and turns out the reality we come from was a limited duration splinter n the timeline that doesn’t even exist today, it was just a period of 35 years or so. So there was debate and all that and eventually it was decided that the only way to really deal with it was to paradoxically cause my universe to never have come into being. Someone would travel back, convince Ambassador Spock not to go, so he would never have created the wormhole and thus the timeline I come from in the first place.”

“So to save me, we just… we made it never was,” the voice of the lost navigator was unsteady and rising in pitch as she spoke. “All those people, all of our experiences, our shipmates and all the people we ever knew, our entire lives, just… never existed anymore. I didn’t… I didn’t want that. The professor, she said that the reality bubble would collapse anyway because it wasn’t stable enough to last, and that the timeline on it ended just after we left it, but… all those people, Dox. They, they’re gone and there are, like, three of us left and I, I never even existed now.” Tears were streaming down the face of the customarily composed commander, but this was gut-wrenching for her to recount.

Sitting across from Rita, Dox had begun to cry for her friend's pain. The story was beyond what she could have imagined, and she couldn't fathom what Rita was going through. Watching Rita, Dox had no soothing words to give. Instead, she simply leaned forward and grabbed Rita with all her might, pulling her in close and squeezing tight. All she could think to say was, "I've got you, Rinam."

“So the Captain made the trip because paradox would wipe out Sonak, and if I went I’d unzip all of time and space or, whatever…” Paris sobbed into the compact chief’s shoulder. “ So when she got back and she was burned and irradiated and it was my fault, they beamed me up to go pick her up and… it wasn’t as bad, but it still, it terrifies me, I can’t help it, just the thought of it makes me so afraid. I'm such a coward but I can't help it, I can't."

"So to make sure I didn't wipe out anything else I came back to the Hera from there and that’s when I found out what had happened to Asa and walked right into the mess with you and Death and the Baroness. There wasn’t any time for me to be, y’know, not ‘Commander Paris’ and I just, I lost it at the Captain for endangering your career with all of the pirate stuff and I just, I wasn’t ready for another hit so fast and all those people are gone, Dox, they’re gone because we made them never were, and I’m still here and I’m not really sure how to deal with it now.”

"God, I don't know how you held it togetherthis long." Dox squeezed tighter, rubbing the back of Rita's head as she talked. "But they did exist. Screw the scientists. They existed because you're here, Rita. You exist and you can remember them all. It... It's a burden nobody should ever have to shoulder, and I wish I could carry some of it for you. GOD, I wish I could. I am so sorry, Rita."

“Yeah,” Rita laughed ruefully. “That’s what everyone else said, too. I remember them, so that makes it all okay. But it really doesn’t. We’re the good guys, we aren’t supposed to end universes. The needs of the many are not outweighed by the needs of the one. But here I am, one of three survivors of an entire reality that was never supposed to exist, and now it doesn’t.”

Sighing deeply, Rita disentangled herself from the arms of her friend. “I’m… I’ll be fine. Just another hit from the universe, you know? Probably why I overreacted so much to the whole Death business. I just…” Picking up a holoimage from the desk that never existed yet she was holographically reproducing in her modern office, Rita showed the image to Dox. On an old-style bridge, there sat a handsome young man in gold, flanked on one side by Sonak, hands clasped behind his back, looking stoic, and Rita, with that million-watt smile on full, looking like the plucky gal sidekick to the two handsome heroes.

“This was Michael Stuart. He was my friend. He was a jumped-up engineer who was not the best starship captain, but he got better all the time, and he always tried to do the right thing. He existed… he was someone, and he accomplished great deeds that never happened now, in a universe that never existed now. How do you mourn a loss like that? I don’t… I don’t have any answers, and I don’t think anyone else does, either.”

"As arrogant as it sounds, I think in the annals of the universe I can claim that no one else knows has ever known what this feels like." Rita Paris chuckled mirthlessly, stifling a sob.

Looking at the image, Dox felt her heart sink further. Rita looked so happy in the image and there was nothing the young part-Romulan woman could say to fix the situation. She knew that there was nothing she could do. Nothing anyone could do. "I... I don't know, Rita. I don't know if anyone would have an answer, either. Maybe there just... isn't one. As wrong as that is. Maybe all you can do is talk about it. Tell those stories. I'll always be here for that."

Eyes still on the image, Rita shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice was low and choked with emotion. “You know the worst part, Dox? It’s that all I can think about is that I shouldn’t get too attached here, either. Every time I settle in and make a home on a starship, the universe pulls the rug out from under me and I have to start all over. Everything I own, gone, everyone I knew, gone, everything I know, out of date and useless.”

Looking up to meet the eyes of her concerned comrade, the bright blue eyes of Rita Paris were sad and pained, an expression not usually seen, thus all the more heartbreaking to see. While she seldom allowed herself to express her fears and misgivings, Mnhei’sahe Dox had asked, so Rita was being honest with her.

"I wish I could tell you that it would all be okay. I wish I could promise that we'd all come and find you but that would be a lie. Because we just... we just don't know. And I can't make those promises." Then Dox thought about it some more. "But we've also got a decent hint you might be stuck with us, this time, thanks to Kodria. The future can always change, but at least we know that I one possible time line, you're here."

"And you're as far from useless as any officer I've ever seen. You knock yourself for being 'out of date', but you know what you're doing a LOT better than you think You've got this ship wrapped around your finger."

That brought a small smile to the face of the beleaguered beauty. “There is that… nothing is set in stone, but at least in one timeline, I stay here, and I still know all of you… well, some of you at least,” she amended. “As for the ship… well, I may be old-fashioned, but I understand the job, and people, and Starfleet. You might be surprised how often I am winging it and how much, but… thank you, Mnhei-sahe.”

Mopping at her face with her hands, it was clear that her venting was past, and Rita Paris was once again pulling herself back together, a feat she had accomplished many times in the past, which she thankfully needed to do less often in the modern day. Taking a long, slow, cleansing breath, she let go of her fears and anxieties and misgivings, although the survivor’s guilt would remain.

“That reminds me… computer, please produce a solid copy of the USS Exeter, NCC 1707, Kelvin model, please, 1/19,000 scale, complete with magnetic repulsion base.” As the transporter hummed to live and deposited the model on her desk as requested, Rita picked it up by the base and handed it to the portly pilot.

“Here- an accurate model of a starship that never was nor will be, from your pal the girl who never existed, a souvenir of her career that never happened, from a time that wasn’t,” Rita explained in a convoluted manner that actually summed up the situation quite succinctly. “I left you one on your desk when I promoted you, but this is an accurate model of the starship I was trying to gain a memento of, with her ample nacelles and sleek lines. This beauty only exists on our memories now… but that’s the nature of the past, isn’t it?”

Holding the model up, Dox smiled. "She's gorgeous. Thank you. I think this will go up with my gold mini. I kept the uniform from our Holodeck mission. Which kind does make it 'our' memories in a weird way. Thanks."

"So it does," Paris admitted. Sighing, Rita took a long overhead stretch, then eyed the chief flight control officer. “So… not an indestructible superwoman, not infallible, not without fear or flaws of foibles. I hope I haven’t ruined your image of me with my little breakdown here?”

"Superwoman wouldn't give me anything to work towards. But someone who was holding onto all of that and was still able to save me and the Captain's souls, and Schwein's life? That's way better," Dox smiled. "I still don't know how you do it."

“I get by with a little help from my friends,” Rita smiled, not quite that million-watt smile, but closer than before. “Thank you, Mnhei'sahe. For letting me lose it, for hearing me out, and for cheering me up."

"And for reminding me that sometimes, just sometimes, even the first officer is allowed to be just… human.”

As he stood on the command deck of Starbase 336, Commander Reginald Pierce looked out across the stars and sighed contentedly. Starfleet had chosen him for this top-secret project, working in conjunction with the Romulans to attempt to unravel one of the greatest mysteries of the universe. The asset was originally located out in the Neutral Zone, and the only way they could gain the support of the Romulan Star Empire was to bring them in on the project.

It was interesting working with the Romulans, whose reputation for treachery was well-earned. Pierce was a career Starfleet bureaucrat, so he was accustomed to backstabbing and political maneuvering. Thus he was right at home dealing with Captain Riov Rendel, the Romulan attaché with whom he shared command of the station.

While she advertised herself as an ‘honorable Romulan’, Pierce knew that was an oxymoron, like ‘Starfleet Intelligence’. When they told you something like that, a Romulan was just trying to get you to lower your guard so they could more easily slide the knife into your back. Dirty, lying, thieving bastard Romulans.

Which of course he never said aloud; instead he just kept the information to himself, and proceeded from the truth as he knew it.

Given what they had in the asset and given the studies that were being conducted and the potential applications, he expected there to be inquiries. One in particular had been persistent, even to the point of sending delegates in person to make the appeal for more information. Bad enough they had to share information with the Romulans, he wasn’t about to go explaining what was going on to every Tom, Dick and Harry who wanted to know, no matter what god they might think they were or how important they were, supposedly.

Commander Reginald Pierce had a mission, and if he succeeded, he’d be hailed for generations as a hero of the Federation. And he’d be around to enjoy it, so failure wasn’t an option. He hadn’t figured out how he would screw the dirty Romulans out of the deal, but what did that matter? Lie to a liar all you want, they deserved what they got- or didn’t get, in this case.

Watching the stars twinkle was a delight to him- everything in its place, all performing as they were intended to do. Which was when an old starship popped out of warp at the edge of the sensor range, and Ops reported in.

“Commander, it’s a Walker Class, USS Photon, registry Starfleet Intelligence,” the Ops officer reported. They’re hailing us… it’s a Commodore Meowlith?”

Rolling his eyes and sighing, Commander Pierce shook his head. “Wave them off with the standard disclaimer, we’re a sealed facility, no one in or out, no sightseers or visitors, if they have a problem take it up the chain to-“

“They have docking clearance from Vice Admiral N’gotu, Commander. It checks out.” Ops reported and Reginald ground his teeth.

“I told them we needed to remain undisturbed! We are at a critical juncture in the project and cannot under any circumstances be-“ he began to rant, but was interrupted by his ops chief again.

“I have a personal message from Vice Admiral N’gotu incoming, sir. Apparently he anticipated your response and has included a subspace encrypted message for you, sir. It’s Starfleet Intel- the codes check out, as does the Photon and Commodore Meowlith,” the ops chief hastened to add before Pierce could raise another objection.

“I’ll take it in my office,” Pierce grumbled, storming off to his office to take the call.

Two minutes later he emerged, angrier than when he had stormed off. “Fine. Let them dock, but we restrict all access- one visitor at a time, only to the command deck and back, escorted at all times," he hissed.

Now Starfleet was meddling, trying to ‘head off a diplomatic incident’ with ‘classified parties’. Reginald neither knew nor cared- his priority was this project and the security thereof, and the fewer people who knew about it, the better. Otherwise he was liable to have who knows what showing up on his doorstep wanting to see and meddle in something that needed to be kept secure, for the fate of the universe.

For now he would meet with this jumped-up admiral and soothe them with all the right answers while steering them clear of the actual project. The sacrifices one had to make to keep secrets in Starfleet, he mused to himself. Secrets were like mushrooms- best kept in the dark to flourish.

With a little luck, he wouldn’t have to kill the Commodore and dispose of the body…

The planet Bismoll and the planet Korrugar had been at war for a very, very long time. However, recently Korrugar had been persuaded to join the United Federation of Planets, on the provision that it make peace with Bismoll. Which was also considering joining the Federation.

Thus diplomatic attaches had been sent and delivered, and even now they were working to move past petty arguments and old grudges and bad blood that was centuries old between the two planets. nOne leader was vainglorious, narcissistic and took everything personally. The other had risen to popularity as a cult of personality and installed himself as a dictator whose iron grip on his world was maintained only by demonizing their enemies, with whom they were now in peace talks to attempt to end the generational feud between the planets and come to a mutually beneficial peaceful accord.

It was not going very well, to the surprise of no one.

The starship USS Hera had been called to be put into play as an equalizer, to be on standby in case one or the other planets, both of whom had a history of hurling deadly payloads at one another’s planets, decided to get trigger-happy. Starfleet Command wanted to insure that there was a monitor nearby to shut down potential hostilities before they escalated back to full-scale planetary war, thus the Here was now parked equidistant between the two planets in the Kargg system… waiting.

Of course, seeing as how the negotiations were proceeding apace and no violence had broken out, that meant the Hera and her crew were idle as Ops kept an eye on the sensors, insuring no one was trying to launch interplanetary missiles at one another. Idle was not a natural state for the crew of the Hera, nor the mighty starship herself. Which was why when the coded emergency message came in over subspace frequencies, it was a welcome respite.

"Oh thank goodness... Something to break the tension..." Enalia muttered as she waited for Operations to hash out the message.

The Ensign at Ops didn't take long, thankfully. "Message is from the USS Photon. It has Commodore Meowlith's signature. I've got it decrypted now, putting it onscreen."

Turning back to the viewscreen, the starfield was replaced with an odd-looking bridge with Farenia in the central chair, red alert klaxons blaring. "USS Photon to USS Hera. ..... Odin and Valkyries are attacking Starbase 336 for reasons unknown. ..... Suspected illegal research between Tal Shiar and Starfleet Intel. ..... Can't hold him off for long. ..... Hurry Enalia, you're our only hope... ..... Talk to him... ....."

Her duty as a Starfleet officer was clear in this case. Distress calls were priority one. "Helm, set a course for Starbase 336, maximum warp and engage immediately. Engineering, I want every last iota of speed out of the engines you can muster. Commander Paris, please inform the Diplomatic envoys that we are responding to a classified distress call and will return as soon as we are able. We recommend they suspend talks if they have to. As for weapons loadout... Ready the quantum torpedoes. I have a feeling we'll need them."

At the helm, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was already in action, bringing the mighty Starship to bearings. "Aye, Captain."

As Paris busied herself composing a diplomatic message to the diplomatic envoys who were relying on the Hera’s presence as a deterrent, she sent the order to the weapons bays to begin torpedo loadout for her strategies. She’d been drilling her fire control technicians down there on speed loading of torpedoes, so hopefully, this would bear fruit in the upcoming conflict.

“Diplomatic envoy has been made aware of the situation, Captain. Time to arrival at coordinates is 42 minutes at warp 9.5, since we’re in the neighborhood,” Paris reported, as she could plot a course as well, even with modern technology and run speed/time calculations.

As Paris spoke, Dox replied as she slammed the ship's engines to Warp. "Maximum Warp engaged, Captain."

Thex was already down in engineering bring all systems online and authorizing the anti-Amazon weapons they made to be distributed amongst the crew. Hopefully, they'd work against the Valkyries as well. "All systems go down here captain, let's hope we don't need them." The Andorian said into her coms channel.

"Let's hope not but it's best to be prepared." Eyeing her own readouts, Enalia saw the ship's speed quickly ramp up and stabilize at warp 9.6, the normal maximum warp of the USS Hera. "Commander Thex... You said in an emergency we could get up to around 9.975 or a bit higher, right? For like twelve hours before the injectors melted? How fast could you push her for ten minutes?"

"I could push her to warp 9.995, but the injectors will be at risk from exploding if they don't melt from the heat," the Andorian said, already running the calculations she needed to run to do this. " Hold together girl." She said quietly to her ship.

"Then give me what you can, and get us there as fast as possible," Enalia replied. "Lieutenant Dox, at your discretion with Commander Thex's lead, if you will. The longer we're at warp, the more chance the battle is already lost."

"Aye, Captain. Ready on your word, Commander Thex." Dox replied quickly, her hands ready on helm control.

From the science station, Sonak then turned to face his commanding officer.

''Captain; there might be a way to maintain the injectors at a sufficiently controlled temperature to avoid them being irreparably damaged. If we replicate and inject liquid helium directly on them, we would drop their temperature to near absolute zero; one to one point five Kelvin to be more precise. By injecting in more replicated liquid helium as fast as the injectors' heat evaporates it, we will keep the system cooled down... at least long enough to reach our destination.''

"That could work captain. I'll have to keep an eye on the pressure because it could cause them to rupture, but I think it will work." Called the Andorian from down in engineering.

"Make it so, then," confirmed the spotted captain.

“Go to yellow alert until we arrive, Captain?” Paris asked even as she scrambled the security teams to get themselves armed and armored for potential boarding party action, even as she delineated a crew of officers to round out a landing party she suspected might be necessary. She tripled the security on the bridge and main engineering because if the Asgardians could bypass their shields with some magical hoodoo, she wasn’t about to leave the Hera unprepared. “Or should we jump straight to red alert?”

Enalia didn't need to think it over. "Go to red alert and activate all internal tactical systems. Start assembling an away team just in case. Ah... And you might want to include Schwein. She's likely the only one that can match an Asgardian in hand to hand without armor."

''Activating anti-boarding protocol on our transporter system linked to our internal sensors should work as well as it did when we faced the space pirates,'' Sonak suggested. ''We could also in a similar programming use internal forcefields to contain enemies and direct them to choke points chosen by Security, in case beaming them back out would not suffice. I can program our sensors to help implement this procedure as well.''

“Make it happen, Mister Sonak,” Paris called as she moved to the tactical station. “As soon as we drop out of warp I’ll need tactical scans as soon as you can feed the telemetry. Security is ready to receive intruders at Holding Cell 16, the communal holding cell with the highest structural reinforcement and shielding. Instruct the transporters to beam organics only to disarm the prisoners as we beam them. Here's hoping no one has fillings...”

''Acknowledged,'' replied the Vulcan. ''Since we are entering a potential battlezone, I can dedicate lateral sensors to supplement tactical ones; and I will program transporters to selective beaming of identified weapons, weapon energy sources an harmful substances so that any safe orthesis or prostesis will be left out.''

It was obvious that he was just as unaware of his wife's humor as to his own involuntary one.

“Baroness von Alcott,'' continued Rita, '' I need you armed and armored for war in Transporter Room 2, on the double,” Paris ordered as she tabbed the comm, then switched channels. “Chief Riley, I need four of our best hand to hand personnel armed and armored in Transporter Room 2 in five minutes, outfitted with the full TR-119C2 loadouts for god level crowd control and have them bring a spare for the Baroness. Phasers are warmed up and reporting ready to fire, torpedoes loaded and standing by, Captain.” It had been a little while since she’d served in this role, but it all came back to Rita Paris quickly. The universe could be very different and the technology far more advanced, but some elements of starship combat never changed.

“I’m reading ETA to Starbase 336 is 7.2 minutes- Miss Dox, can you confirm?” Paris called from tactical where she was running a countdown timer.

"Confirmed. And warp holding at 9.995." Dox replied.

Down in engineering, Thex was moving as fast as she could as she tried to keep the warp engine from doing some serious damage to itself. Multiple warning lights and sounds bleeped on the computer screen as her fingers flew across them, trying to keep the pressure down and the injectors cool.

"Come on, hold together..." the Andorian engineer muttered as the timer counted down slowly, going from seven to five and then to two minutes. They were going to make it. She hoped.

The tension built as everyone found their places and readied for a battle they could only hope to win and the countdown to arrival made its way to zero. The Baroness von Alcott herself had signaled the team's readiness in transporter room 2, her gold and blue armor having not been used in several years, but having all the battle markings one would expect. And a cape with just as many burn marks.

That's when the USS Hera popped out of warp just at the edge of the battle. Immediately in front of the behemoth vessel was the burnt out husk of a 24th-century refit Constitution class drifting in their path. Sensors showed that of the more than dozen defenders, only five were left even functional. The Commodore's Walker class cruiser, a refit T'varo light warbird, a Mogai heavy warbird, and two refit Miranda class light cruisers. Odin and his Valkyries had sliced through a D'deridex and an Excelsior-class seemingly like they were paper.

Immediately, Dox shifted the controls to manual controls and put the Hera into a tight roll to cut between the pieces of the destroyed vessel. The shields flared as debris bounced off the leading edges.

"Incoming hail from the Commodore," came the call from the Ensign at Ops.

"Onscreen," replied Enalia, having an idea of what she was about to say.

The viewscreen was replaced with a broken up image of an almost decimated Walker class bridge, with Meowlith at the helm this time. "Welcome to the party. Any later and we might not have been here. Odin still isn't talking, but he's definitely pissed about something. Do you mind holding him off long enough for us to regroup and collect our wounded? There's only like... What? Fifty of them left? You've got that no problem, right?"

"Sure, we're on it. What's the worst that could happen? Hera out." Enalia stood and with confidence she barely felt, threw one arm out dramatically. "You heard the woman. Let's give them time to regroup. Position us between them and the Odin Force and give them something to think about! Target engines and weapons and fire at will!"

"Aye, Captain." Dox put the Hera into the Starship equivalency of a side drift as she slid the massive Nebula Class vessel between the attackers and the Commodore's damaged ship. Tilted upwards to present the dorsal side of the ship left the Hera open to fire but provided the maximum surface area to protect the Commodore.

It also put the weapons of the Hera's pod to bear for maximum efficiency.

Tapping at the controls, Paris hijacked the comms, channeling a subspace distortion through the deflector that would cavitate the hulls of ships in the area, as well as bones, if they could survive in space. As a very specific percussion pattern began, a smile spread across the face of the first officer. Lining up target acquisitions, a wall of photon torpedo explosions heralded the Hera's arrival as the local system reverberated with the beginning of Queen's 'We Will Rock You'.

Thoom thoom clap!
Thoom thoom clap!

At the helm, the half-Romulan pilot with an ear for Earth music smiled slightly.

"Time to show the old gods how we used to do it back where I come from," Paris snarked as the photon torpedoes exploded in sequence before them, blinding and driving back those in their path, which bought time for the phasers to build up. Using the sensor telemetry Paris began acquiring and firing at the relatively tiny chariots, causing hits but not disabling with singular shots.

"Wonderful, they're durable too. Captain, I believe we've got their attention but we can't sit here guarding the Commodore or they'll sink us for sure... and here they come," Paris reported as one hand flew across the tactical panel, which she had open on three screens, and the other maintained a death grip on the panel.

At the helm, Dox's hands hovered at the ready as well for the next order as the chariots got closer.

The spotted captain kept an eye on her chair console as the defending ships pulled back and the Asgardian ships moved in, weapons beating against the shields of the larger ship. "Okay, our forces are clear enough. Let's show Odin he chose the wrong mortals to pick a fight with! Maneuvers and weapons at discretion! Mister Sonak, please tell me there's something about those ships we can exploit or a weakness we can take advantage of."

Hearing this, Sonak addressed the command dais.

''There is a saying among practitioners of the martial arts; when you can't see, you can't fight. I would suggest to target their sensor array with phasers at their widest dispersal pattern and recalibrate some photon torpedoes to diffuse their impact as much as possible and as close as possible to the targets. The sudden intense flood of photons, antimatter radiation, and electromagnetic pulse should incapacitate their targeting, navigational and lateral sensors.''

As Sonak spoke, Dox was already in action. In a blur of motion, she leaned into the manual controls and the Hera roared back to life, rapidly launching away from its protective posture to an offensive one as she brought the nose up towards the attackers. In spite of the size of the massive ship, she saw an opening to corkscrew the Hera on end and thread the gap between the incoming attack ships and accelerated. "Commander. You're about to have targets on the dorsal and ventral sides of the ship."

“Shields holding at eighty seven percent,” Paris reported as her fingers danced across the control panel, following the sage advice of her studious chief science officer. Modern warfare tactics had evolved, but there were old Starfleet tricks she was employing, that likely hadn’t been used in a hundred years. Thus she suspected the Asgaardians would be unprepared for the onslaught. Photon torpedo spreads were away once more, and once the phasers had blinded, she began targeting the deflectors of the small chariot vessels. In hindsight she gave the USS Photon a healthy shove with the tractor beam to nudge the wounded vessel out of the hazard zone while the Hera drew fire.

“Captain, I’m reading well over a hundred hostiles in the area, most around type 11 shuttlecraft size. Might be time to open a channel now that we’re already engaged and see if we can at least find out what this is all about?” The starship was rocked by a combination of broadside impacts, overloading the inertial dampeners, and shoving everyone to port, though Paris remained steady at her station.

Holding tight to the helm, Dox righted herself in her seat and adjusted the Hera's attitude to bring the edge of the saucer in line with the attacking ships to reduce the surface area to be targeted on the massive Starship. All the while, Sonak studied intently the sensors readouts, compiling data to find the pattern of attack of the enemy while studying the surrounding area for any stellar object or phenomenon that could help resolve the conflict in their favor, including mapping out the debris field and motion of celestial objects and ships. His sharp mind was working almost as fast as the computer in a parallel analysis of the ongoing battle in search of various solutions and permutations of possible outcome of predictable actions; so that unprecedented or unpredictable ones would stand out instantly.

"Working on it!" Enalia was fast typing in the comm codes to call Odin on her chair console as they were exchanging fire. On the third try, it went through and a popup in front of the holographic viewscreen of a man in gold armor with one eye covered, and an epic beard appeared. "Odin! It's good to see you again, All Father, though I wish it were under better circumstances." Enalia paused as another volley of fire rocked the vessel. "Is there any way I can convince you to tell us what troubles you enough to attack allies like this?"

“The Allfather hath business within yon hall of perfidy, wherein I do suspect deeds most foul being committed!” Stomping the large golden spear he carried on the deck beneath him, the bridge crew felt as well as heard it. Apparently Rita Paris was not the only one employing psychological warfare today. “Yea, though the patience of the liege of Asgaard be great, it hath been taxed mightily by the vexing bureaucracy of thy Federation. When mine ravens can gain no report, and mine one good eye cannot peer into the darkness enshrouding this pit of vipers, truly it is clear to me that base duplicity and miscreance be afoot. I weary of the evasions and half-truths offered, as there is no honesty in base deception. Thus the Allfather hath declared the truth shall be cleaved from falsehood, and what cannot be learned through peaceful means, Odin shall know the truth of it e'en if he must take it by force!”

Yeah, that was definitely Odin, alright... Enalia wanted to sigh and hang her head in frustration, but instead she stood and braced herself against yet another onslaught of weapons fire and addressed the Allfather. "I too grow weary of duplicitous talk. My Commodore no doubt came here to investigate the same claims you are angered over so. You know me. You know my honor. I fight here now only to defend those that can no longer fight and those that are not warriors. I entreat upon you to lay aside your weapons for a time so we may discuss this further and together see if we may peer into the darkness that enshrouds this station."

“Thy word is thy bond Enalia, daughter of Artan, bearer of Telvan. Know I that these mortals be not warriors,” Odin admitted. “Yet the Allfather shall not be swayed from his course. Mine Valkyrykor shall continue to hammer these defenses til the walls about this secret which thy Federation strives to hide from the All-Seeing Eye of Odin shall shatter as a robin’s egg, laying bare the worm-rotted core of the foul secret they seek to hide. Thus shall it be so!”

Even as the autarch of Asgaard pontificated, the mere mortals of the USS Hera were still working hard. The charging time was not much more than the warming time of phasers in her, day, and it practically doubled the phaser output. Ringing the emitters in pairs now, shots were firing nearly as fast as the telemetry was coming in from the sensors, as Rita Paris defined her targeting locations on the small and agile chariot ships and employed the computer to do the actual targeting, with her responsible for triggering the weapons fire. A plasma burst exploded off their starboard bow, shaking the mighty starship as one of the Romulan cruisers committed a near miss on their unlikely ally.

Dropping a photon torpedo in their wake to scramble the trigger-happy Romulan’s sensors, while decimating a trio of chariot vessels that were in pursuit. At the rate they were going, they could win this engagement if they could hold out.

“Mister Sonak, I need a deflector pulse to the shields, 42 percent and dropping,” Paris called as the Hera stabilized enough for the captain’s reply.

''Acknowledged; reconfiguring main deflector dish output to shield grid... now.''

There was a brief surge of power from the navigational board, barely as lon as the blink of an eye. Then the tactical station registered the same power surge.

''Forty-seven percent deflector output to shields added; shields now holding at eighty-nine percent; estimated duration, five point three minutes.'' then confirmed Sonak.

"Captain, this is Commander Pierce of Starbase 336," came another voice on a different channel, an excited and hurried tone in the man's voice. "This operation must be defended at all costs, so quit trying to reason with a madman and blow him to smithereens! the future of the federation depend upon it!"

The Vulcan then turned from his station to face the center chair.

''Captain; I have mapped the debris field and the enemy ships trajectories. With our full tractor beam array, we should be able to direct them as projectiles against the same number of targets. It will not penetrate fully operational starship shields, but it will significantly damage smaller crafts.''

Enalia reclaimed her seat and crossed her legs as if she had all the time in the world. "Well then... Odin, Allfather... By your beard, it is my duty to protect the citizenry of the Federation, be they noble or bootlickings. Let us meet in battle. I only pray that victory carries us both through the day."

Cutting off the comms before anyone could pontificate further, Enalia grinned let a hint of a chuckle out. "Okay everyone! Let's try all those tricks! Sonak, that's a go on the tractors. Dox, keep up the fancy flying. Paris, we have a couple tricobalt torpedoes, right? I want one detonated right in the middle of them, maximum yield. It should blind every sensor within ten thousand kilometers... Except some of ours and that eye of Odin's. Let's see if we can make this a much more even fight for a couple minutes."

Maneuvering the massive ship in between the spray of debris and the significantly smaller attack crafts was no easy task, but Dox deftly weaved the Hera in and out like a ship half it's size.

“Mister Sonak, I have transferred tractor beam control to your station,” Paris called out, knowing when to delegate. “Miss Dox, you have telemetry to coordinate with those debris efforts. Doctor Dael, this is Commander Paris- please suit up for EVA action and report to transporter room 2. Tricobalt torpedo loaded and 3… 2…1… away!” Another forward impact rocked the Hera as the torpedo raced from the starship, finding its mark and exploding in a white-hot ball of fury, blinding sensors, scrambling systems and pulverizing a dozen of the small chariot fighter vessels.

"We've got company incoming ma'am, warp signature detected, unknown starship entering the battle," Paris reported. "Miss Dox, if we're to use that debris we could do with putting some fighters in our wake. Strengthening aft shields- make us a tempting target, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Commander." Dox replied with the usual flat, eerily calm tone she maintained in the heat of the moment. Aligning the Hera with the flight path telemetry provided by Sonak, Dox pulled back off of the manual throttle to slow the Hera's path to lead the ships in closer as instructed.

While Paris spoke, the chief science officer's fingers tapped his console like a concert pianist. On the main screen, an array of blue beams swept across the debris field and pushed them outward like a meteor swarm, hitting almost every small ship converging on them just as they renewed their attack sweeps. Adding their damaged hulls to the mix, Sonak reversed polarity and now dragged them together and behind the Hera while their engines and defenses were still offline.

''I believe in ancient times they called this a buckler,'' the Vulcan offered matter-of-factly; ''a handheld shield. 'I can keep this blocking mass between us and the intruder for the next fifty-three point forty-seven seconds before having to release it all in our wake. Our emitters will burn out beyond that point."

"That's a lot of debris. If we whip launch that at a larger target, it may not penetrate their shields, but it might give us a window to exploit." Dox added from the helm.

"Both plans. Dox, we've got a wrecking ball behind us- swing that thing around and see what havoc we can wreak. I'll pick them off as they're avoiding it and when we're going to lose control have us in position to whip it into one of that cruiser. Let's poke Odin in his good eye," Paris called from the tactical console where her crews were loading torpedoes with remarkable efficiency and the targeting computer did the hard match. While it was serious business, she had to admit she was having a ball.

"Aye." Dox replied as she aimed the bow of the Hera toward the Sliepnir Class Cruiser and put the ship into the maximum speed with which she could still maintain the tractor lock.

"Mister Sonak, if you could guide our errant buckler into the engines... whatever is generating propulsion in there. Let's not do more damage than necessary." the buxom bombardier continued firing both phasers and torpedoes as she spoke, not looking up but multitasking with remarkable compartmentalization, learned from her association with said master of logic manning the science station.

The Vulcan almost frowned.

''Commander, one of the first laws of physics is that, to any action, there is a counter action of equal force and opposite direction. Moving this much mass around in the manner you suggest will jeopardize our own maneuverability... unless we coordinate this very, very precisely. This can only be done if navigation and tractor beam vectors ae done by the same person. The tractoring is basic, but the piloting is beyond my current capabilities. I recommend giving full control to Lieutenant Dox. I can then use the targeting scanners to feed her the necessary data directly to her nav computer.''

As Sonak did his work, Dox pulled the Hera's nose down then back up again as close to the main cruiser as possible, sending her flight data to his station to coordinate their efforts. At the mighty ship began it's rapid loop it trailed a massive field of debris in it's wake, Dox called back. "Wrecking ball is primed and ready to release on your mark."

Sonak made a few adjustments with the scanners, input the projected data to be sent to Dox, station and raised a finger.

''Continue firing; Veer off 210 mark 45 on my mark... Mark!''

Under the skillful efforts of the Half Romulan pilot, the Nebula class starship suddenly turned and elevated it's nose. Behind it, the blueish beams shut down, letting the entire mass of debris continue on it's altered trajectory to graze the aft section of the enemy cruiser. The size of a small asteroid and composed of innumerable particles of every size and shape imaginable, it peppered the shields of the vessel until it was overwhelmed with the added phaser fire of the Hera. Many good-sized chunks of metal ripped into it's hull plating. The engines of the ship were shredded like that of a falling ship into an atmospheric bad reentry, then sputtered and went dark.

"Well done, people!" Paris exclaimed. "Well, that should change the odds a bit... they're turning main cannon batteries toward us, get us elsewhere please, Miss Dox." Fingers still in motion, alternately cooling phasers and firing, the tempestuous tactician slid her finger across the display once more, shifting the viewing plane of the battle onscreen. Suddenly the entire screen's display leapt up before her in fully three-dimensional holographics, which enabled her to take in the battle from a comprehensive perspective and rendered it fully interactive.

A full five seconds of the battle was wasted with Paris taking in the sight, seeing all of the data available and grasping only just a few of the applications available to her.

While Rita was taking in the holographic displays, Dox was executing her orders, banking the ship away from the Odin's Breath at breakneck speed.

"The future is amazing," she whispered to herself, where only sensitive ears could hear, the lights of the battle dancing in miniature before her eyes. One finger targeted a small chariot fighter, while the other touched the secondary screed below, sliding it upward as well. Another holographic display appeared beside the first, with fire control at her fingertips.

"Magnificent. Let's see now..." with targeting set on one fighter craft, Paris fired two batteries at it in succession, and it registered as powerless. Reaching up, she targeted another, then seeing the projected flight plan would bring it into formation with four other chariot fighters to form a wing, she targeted it with a photon torpedo, and launched it. In all, for a good minute of the battle, immediately following the crippling of the Odin's Breath, the USS Hera was mobile, but not firing with much force nor effect. But that changed soon afterward, as she suddenly was everywhere with phasers and torpedoes unloading from her with devastating effect. But not without a cost.

"Shields are at 22..." Another impact rocked the Hera from astern as Rita Paris dropped a proximity mine in their wake to ruin someone's day. "18 percent. Warming up the hull plating, orders, Captain?"

"I think it's time we pulled back and regrouped with the others." Enalia was glad they had disabled about half of the attacking ships and seemingly Odin's ship as well, but there was another larger cruiser inbound that also registered as Aesiir. "Bring us about, covering fire from the aft..."

That's all she got out before the heavens cracked open and all hells broke loose. That cruiser popped out of warp and what looked like Freyja in an old chariot being pulled by house cats appeared in the sky right before a brilliant lance of light shot out from there, raked across the USS Hera, clean through one of the remaining Miranda class ships, and stabbed deep into Starbase 336.

Sparks rained down across the suddenly darker bridge as both the shields and armor instantly failed and the power systems were overloaded across several decks, causing blackouts across half the saucer. The Ensign at Operations was frantically trying to manage damage control teams and report at the same time. "Captain, we have hull breaches on decks six, seven, and eight! Emergency bulkheads and force fields... Now online! Port impulse engine at fifty percent! Incoming transport signals detected!"

At helm, Dox began frantically running a full systems check before calling back. "Helm controls unresponsive, Captain." As the part-Romulan pilot was speaking, she quickly scooched back and slapped open the maintenance panel to begin examining the systems to try and diagnose the problem for herself physically.

As soon as they finished their reports, the golden shimmer of Aesir transporters shimmered for a moment before they were overridden with the silver Starfleet ones, right there on the bridge. When they were finished, several sets of arms and armor clattered to the deck.

"Looks like we should expect company," Paris muttered as she co-opted shipboard comms. "Security teams, high alert! All hands, prepare to repel boarders!" All across the Hera, already on red alert and reported to battle stations, the crew of the Hera reached for phasers. Armed and armored security teams guarded critical access points, while teams stood by in the armory as well as both on the pad and standing by in Transporter Room 4, ready to be deployed in rapid response.

"Five phaser banks still operational and we have one aft torpedo tube still operational... two operational.," Paris reported as systems flickered and the holographic interface fizzled out. "Back to the old school," Paris muttered as she began setting as defensive perimeter about the crippled starship.

''Antiboarding transporter protocol will not operate in our present condition for the next five point three minutes,'' Sonak warned.

Laying on the deck, upside down with her head buried into the Helm station, Dox pulled out and sat up. "The power surge fried some of the conduits. I did a hard wire reroute." Sitting back up, the pilot slash grease monkey ran a quick diagnostic. "Holographic controls are still down, but we have limited helm control restored."

Sonak took this moment to provide a report from his scanners.

''I have completed my scan of the USS Aldrin. There is a significant level of antiproton radiation all accross the hull. I read hull breaches on fifty-three percent of the decks, port nacelle obliterated. Thirty-six percent of the ship is open to outer space without emergency forcefields and left uninhabitable. Bridge and first three decks are destroyed. Warp core is gone, impulse engines offline and in need of extensive repairs. Thrusters are offline and the ship is adrift, holding on barely on emergency batteries. Phaser banks and torpedo complement are depleted, shuttlebay doors fused. Faint lifesign readings on lower decks; probable survivors from the crew. I am sending coordinates to our transporter teams.''

"Beam survivors directly to sickbay as soon as we're able and notify the medical staff. Use the emergency transporters as well if you have to." Enalia was busy tapping at her chair controls, trying to bring up any sort of readings on the station itself. When she did, she finally had an idea of why Odin's beard was in a knot. "Is that a Titan signature?"

Before she could confirm it, a stream of rainbow light streamed across space, through the Hera, and onto Starbase 336, dumping off who knew how many more Valkyries, not to mention in the short time they'd been trying to get the ship moving, Freyja's ship was about to board it.

"As soon as we're in range, Commander, lead an away team to help defend the station," Ordered Enalia. "Take whomever you need."

"Titan? Is there a titan in the station and that's why they refused to tell Odin? What are they doing to it though..." Rita exposited before handing off her station. "100 kilometer perimeter, she'll autofire on anything in range, and watch to the rear for torpedo opportunities, stick with photons- we don't need to pull out the quantums except in extreme cases. Hold the line, Ensign," Rita clapped the young man on the shoulder after briefing him, then glanced quickly across the bridge.

"Commander Paris to flight deck, scramble runabouts for rescue efforts on the USS Aldrin immediately. It's still hot out there people. so this is combat evacuation. Deploy immediately, there are still survivors out there. Miss Dox, Mister Sonak, you're with me. Given hull breaches on the station, I would recommend EVA suits, but I will respect your choices Mister Sonak. Computer, inform Lieutenant Dael to report to Transporter Room two, armed and armored."

''Acknowledged,'' the chief science officer responded, securing his station for his assistant while calling her up.

Sparing a glance at Captain Telvan, Commander Rita Paris nodded in an unspoken communication. We'll get it done, ma'am.

Getting up from her station at the helm, Dox tapped her Comm badge as the station's communication panel was down for written messages still. "Ensign Gonadie to helm Control." As she spoke, she stepped across the bridge further away from Commander Paris, tapping her comm badge again. "Computer. Dox, M. Lieutenant. Access code 795-X9E. Please institute EVA Suit up protocol immediately."

As the portly pilot stood still, her own Crimson EVA suit appeared on her in a twinkle of transporter lights. As it was complete, Dox smiled lightly. "Thank you, Computer." To which the computer chirped and unexpectedly replied. =^=You are welcome, Lieutenant.=^=

Mona rushed out of the turbolift, ready for duty and headed to Dox first, planting a kiss on the half Romulan Lieutenant before taking her station. "Come back safely."

They had both been informed of professional protocol concerning their newfound relationship, but clearly, emotion overrode Mona in the moment as Dox smiled awkwardly back with an exaggerated expression that read 'not on the BRIDGE.' Nevertheless, she had returned the kiss as it happened and replied quietly with a loving smile. "You stay safe."

Pausing by the pile of weapons and armor the left behind by the Valkyries who had been defeated and disarmed by Sonak's planning, a sly smile crossed Rita's face, pausing to scoop up a headdress, a sword and a bright red cloak, she smirked.

"If we're headed to take the stage in an opera, may as well dress the part..."

Sonak raised an eyebrow then nodded and imitated her.

''Blending in, confusing the enemy and easying allies; a sensible tactic, Commander.''

In a few minutes, they'd find out.

My name is Rita Paris, and I am not a soldier.

Yet I am here, armed and armored in a warzone, leading a unit into combat.

I was brought into the universe on planet Earth 163 years ago, in a time very unlike this one. Yet there are echoes of my era in the modern day. I was born and raised Starfleet, and I in turn serve in Starfleet, in the tradition of my family. That was a universe away. But I am here, and I persist, despite the fact that the reality from which I originated no longer exists. In point of fact, now it never existed, through the wonder of paradox. Yet I persist.

I’m stubborn that way.

Beside me is the last surviving kolinahr of Vulcan, the only Master of Gol who was not on the planet when the renegade Romulan Nero destroyed it with red matter. He is Sonak of Vulcan, and he is my t’hy’la, my husband, my mate, my partner in life. He is the yang to my yin, the animus to my anima. He is Sonak- now no longer the last, no longer a man without a world. No longer a member of an endangered species, he is the center of my universe, the fixed point I orbit who empowers me to navigate my way through life.

Celebrating my individuality and emotional, passionate nature, he provides logic and structure to my mind and my life. We love and respect one another, despite- or perhaps because of- our differences. He is far and away the best man that I have ever known, although he is fond of pointing out to me that he is no man, as the phrase is sexist and speciesist all at once.

Not all of my old-fashioned views and perspectives are appropriate in this far-flung future in which we dwell. So I strive to be better, to expand my horizons and perspectives.

Behind me is Asa Dael, the young immortal El Aurian who is filled to overflowing with care for their fellow sentients. I worry that I am hardening their soul by bringing them with me into dangerous situations. But they continue to bounce back, and the well of compassion within them seems to refill each time after they see the horrors I seem to face, which always seems to demand that I bring along a physician.

I worry for the state of my own soul, with the violence I face which seems commonplace in this day and age. The doctor who ran away from home to join Starfleet because they could not wait to experience the universe is my conscience in white, the red crosses boldly declaring to the universe that they are here to help. I am keenly aware that my words and deeds today will echo through history yet to come in how it affects this young person who will outlive my great grandchildren. Thus they serve as a reminder to cleave to my better nature, even in the midst of war.

Particularly in the midst of war.

On my other side is Mnhei’sahe Dox, the Romulan girl who discovered that her heritage need not be a point of shame on the starship which represents the great melting pot of the Federation. Insecure, filled with self-doubt and self-recrimination, I have served as mentor and friend to her, and she has blossomed into a line officer who is on her way to becoming a starship captain. I am her role model, and I am aware of the responsibility that entails, as I labor to live up to being held up as such an example. This is Starfleet, and this is the job. I love her like a sister, yet I live with the perennial misgiving that I will fail her through thought or deed or word, and that she will fail because I failed her. But she must not know that, so instead I nod confidently to her, reassuring her all will be well as we go to war.

That confidence is a sentiment I wish I felt more strongly. But I am no battlefield virgin, and I am in command. I must appear to be the soul of cool confidence, for the others will take courage and fortitude and bravery from that.

Some days I miss when Sonak was the Commander and I was the Lieutenant. But those days are no more, as our roles have reversed here. As a Vulcan he has no pride nor ego, and his skills remain undiminished, thus his reduced rank matters not at all to him. He is still brilliant, calm, quick to react and competent beyond measure. I am the one who is prone to anxiety and self-doubt, though only he can see it, for he knows me more fully than another other living being ever will. I command because he taught me how, through patience, perseverance and example, as I now mentor those under my command.

We are gathered to beam to the embattled Starbase 336. Transporters are the bane of my existence, but I will beam into battle today. I am terrified because of my history with transporters, which have split me in two, rendered me a ghost, shunted me through dimensions and hurtled me through time and space. In theory the Department of Temporal Investigations has ‘cleansed’ my quantum field of the excess energies that it built up and was carrying, but I still deeply distrust the technology. I have a mission, and I cannot endanger the rest of the landing party with my own fears and weakness. Time is of the essence and lives are on the line, so Rita Paris will grin and bear it, and she will beam into danger.

It is an officer’s duty.

Behind me is the Baroness von Alcott, the captain’s adjutant who serves as her liaison to the piratical empire into which she was born. In truth they are privateers, preying on other pirates rather than assaulting the Federation’s shipping lanes or merchant ships as true pirates. A genetically engineered supersoldier, she is brave, loyal to a fault and possessed of a good humor that I find endearing. I fought Death for her, and she has saved my life. In battle with the Asgaardians, she has a conflict, as she is betrothed to the god of thunder, Thor himself. Yet here she stands, armed and armored for war, prepared to take a stand alongside the ‘fleeters’ whom she claims not to get along with, yet steadfastly defends by placing herself in harm’s way.

Clad in the gold and black armor that covers and protects my form, the hard armored augmentation EVA suit that is not quite powered armor, yet far closer than anything I have ever worn. It displays the Starfleet delta of my era on my right breast, while hanging off my back in an off-center loop of cabling is a cape I've attached for visibility to my enemies, to draw their fire. Bearing a heavy assault rifle capable of wreaking considerable havoc, I prefer the replica of my old Type 2 style phaser, magnetically adhered to my right hip. It is an eccentricity I am indulged in, as is my usual anachronistic uniform. A comm unit occupies my left forearm while a grapnel winch line occupies my right.

Upon my back I bear a blade, and a stolen Valyrie's sword at my left hip, for I am prepared for a number of eventualities. A winged headpiece I've added, clipped to my armor's HUD visor, as a bit of theater to bolster my courage in this Wagnerian opera in which I find I now must take the stage. I continue to struggle to convince myself this is merely an explorer’s protection from the hostile vaccum of space or planets in turmoil. Yet I only seem to don this golden armor when violence is upon us, and diplomacy has failed.

I do not want to fight, but I must. I will do my best to wound, to stun, to discourage without killing.

My opponents may not grant me that luxury.

All of this passes through my mind, as my away team assembles, and we prepare to beam. I will not make a sound, my teeth gritted and my resolve firm, because I must not undermine the confidence of the others. I must be strong, for them, for the ship, for the mission. I am afraid, desperately afraid, and every instinct I have warns me to run, not to do this, to seek a safer way. But there is no time, and it is a luxury I can ill afford. So I shall stay the course and manage my fear, and I will be resolute.

The landing party steps onto the platform, where Security Petty Officer 3rd Class Weinstein awaits us. Nodding to all involved, I leave the great weapon of destruction on my back and draw my phaser, set to heavy stun. Making eye contact with the transporter chief, I realize it is Mr. Kelley, who has witnessed one of my beam in events and been traumatized by it, though not as badly as Chief Fingerman, who retired on Earth after witnessing a transporter test involving me gone awry. I nod confidently to the transporter operator, lending him courage and conviction with my own appearance of calm that I do not feel. Steeling myself, I must speak with authority, to say the most dreaded of words in my personal lexicon. But this is bravery, I am told- to face the fear and do what needs to be done despite it.

I do not feel brave as I speak the word.

“Energize.”

My molecules and component atoms are converted to energy, and I still feel the process which I have been assured is quite impossible to percieve. I am aware of the passage of time as beaming occurs, and I desperately wish it would end, that I could close my eyes and simply not endure this. But the universe has other ideas, and throughout the process I am awake, aware and while it no longer causes me agonizing pain, I can still feel that which should happen in an instant stretch out over what seems like hours to me. In truth, it is but 6.293 seconds, which is still far longer than a modern transport should take. This is one of the signs that the universe is not finished playing dice with me, and that transporters still represent a clear and present danger to my well-being.

I see the station about me as we rematerialize, and feel the transporter rebuilding me piece by piece. The worst part is over, I tell myself, and I prepare to face the battle ahead.

I am calm, because I must honor my rank.
I am brave, because I must inspire.
I command, because it is my duty.

My name is Rita Paris, and I am not a soldier.

I am Starfleet.

Marching down the corridor, time was of the essence. The anti-proton beam Freyja had used to carve through the USS Hera, the USS Aldrin and Starbase 336 all in one singular blast had demolished defenses and allowed Odin to extend the Bifrost to the starbase. Where he was now depositing forces unknown at the location, as at the very least his Valkyries battled their way toward the secret the base was hiding, which just might be a captive essence of a titan.

The order had been given to defend the station by Captain Telvan, which led to Commander Paris, Lieutenants Sonak and Dox and Dael, Petty Officer Weinstein, and Baroness von Alcott arming themselves, then beaming down to the station. While it was far and away the Commander's least favorite way to travel, there was no time for a shuttle, nor was taking one down an acceptable risk. Beaming had been a necessity, so she'd given the order and beamed in with the landing party.

After she'd had the ship's computer beam her EVA armor onto her form, what could be scarier than that?

While most of the station was still heavily shielded, they were able to beam in close to where the Bifrost had dropped off a number of the intruding Valkyries- a large cargo bay that seemed to have been repressurized with the aid of emergency force fields, though one wall had been sheared clean away. A group of six Aesir were in a defensible position, firing some sort of spear-like energy weapons at the station's defending forces and completely unaware of the Hera's forces that had beamed in behind them.

The Baroness was quick to take up a defensive posture. In her battle-worn gold and blue armor, her royal blue cloak fluttering, she charged the Valkyries with nothing but her semi-bare hands. Punching one in the face, a look of surprise froze on her face as she turned to look at the sudden sounds, then slammed to the deck out cold before the others could respond. Then the Teutonic troublemaker jumped back slightly, so the others could get a clear line of fire.

His face a mask of rigid jade, Sonak fired at the nearest Valkyrie as she charged. The phaser cut a deep gouge on the floor right before her feet and she toppled face first, her ankle caught and sprained as she stepped in the unexpected deptression. Like the consummate warrior she was, she ignored the sudden, sharp pain and rolled forward to absorb the fall, to come back up on one knee, weapon raised. But before she could even find her target, her eyes rolled upward and she fell under the nerve pinch of the Vulcan at the nerve centers of her neck, having rolled right into his reach.

For a moment, the scene made some of the other warrior women pause and stare at him.

''Freya's Girdle! This be sorcery! Is this... is this... Loki?'' one asked the other.

The answer was drowned by the fall of the ceiling Sonak blasted in a circle over their heads, effectively trapping them in a cage of heavy debris.

"Loki? Please. Loki wishes he was that smart," Rita muttered as she tapped at her comm unit, connecting to the station's computer and bringing up a holographic projection map of the radial hub design of Starbase 336.

"Looks like if they are keeping anything secure it would be in the central hub here," Rita observed, pausing to squeeze off a few shots in succession to an incoming Valkyrie who was snarling her way into a charge, before she connected and the living Norse legend succumbed to a heavy stun. "So let's try to get there with a quickness, people. Doc, you stick to my six, Baroness on short scout and the rest of you move as a unit, protect each other's flanks and let's try to use minimal force here, people. These were our allies until a few hours ago and they might be again if we can resolve this. Let's move."

"Aye, Commander." Dox closed up ranks behind Asa with her modern type 2 phaser in a low ready firing stance at the parties rear. In spite of the 360° data her suits scanners fed into her own heads up display, she kept her eyes sharp.

''My tricorder readings are confirming your logical assessment, Commander,'' Sonak reported, holding his instrument in one hand while leveling his phaser and firing a heavy stun beam at a crouching warrioress, felling her. ''I read a peculiar energy flux at the juncture of these corridors; the very kind we were looking for.''

Scanning through the data on their HUD, Dael mentally thanked McBain for training them to move effectively in their white armor. They had a caduceus and cross symbols in red on their shoulders, front, and back. The universal symbols for medicine as well as their lack of weaponry beyond a phaser and some knives marked the slim figure as a medic.

It was in that capacity Asa said, "The delta brain waves of the Valkyries after being rendered unconscious are 34 percent higher than expected. Recommended increasing stun power setting by 12 percent as a temporary default."

"Thank you, Doctor." Dox replied from the group's rear, adjusting her weapon just in time as two Valkyries entered into range of the 3-D sensors of her HUD, though still too far behind them in the darkened section of the corridor they were making their way down to see with the naked eye.

Dox brought her weapon to bear and fired two stun rounds into the darkness. Seconds later, the sound of two stunned warriors falling to the deck echoed towards they away teams rear as her HUD confirmed her hits as successful.

That was enough for Schwein, as she headed out for scouting duty. Double tapping her helmet, it started relaying her scan data from her cybernetic eye, which was not covered by her usual eyepatch right now. In a rush, she raced ahead into the fray between several more Valkyries and 'fleeters. With another punch, the lightly armored pirate all but knocked her target out and with a lunge, she grabbed them up and swung them around into the other three like a makeshift club, scattering them across the deck. Still clinging to the first Aesir, she flung the poor woman through a door into another pair of startled intruders.

Finally, she reported in. "Commander, I estimate fifty Aesir across this part of the station. I also detect an Asgardian ship forcibly docking near the central core." As she reported in, she ducked fire from one of the Valkyries she didn't quite knock out and had to casually grab one of the wall panels that had come loose and throw it like a frisbee at her to get her to stop.

The inborn sense of intuition that Rita Paris trusted implicitly urged her onward, and told the extradimensional explorer that haste was a necessity. "We've got to get to that core, people, otherwise I get the feeling something awful is going to happen. Speed, people, on the bounce! Move quickly, cover flanks and keep your heads down!" Unslinging her rifle, Paris called for smoke grenades then fired them out in sequence ahead of them. Then the career fleeter hustled the landing party forward, firing her phaser as they moved.

At the rear, Dox was picking up more attackers advancing behind them on her HUD. So, taking a page from Sonak's book, Dox tightened her phaser to a cutting board and fired a 'U' shaped groove into the ceiling, causing a massive section of the heavy durasteel to fall like a ramp from the floor to the ceiling, blocking the corridor behind them to trap the advancing Valkyries. "Our rear is clear." She yelled out to the group as she ran to keep up.

"Clever girl," Paris muttered as she worked to interpret all of the sensor data, then realized she had to focus past all of the possibilities of what might lie ahead and focus on the here and now. Firing a few more smoke grenades ahead, Rita slung her rifle and swapped her phaser back to her primary hand, minding the map to keep the landing party on course as they moved into one of the hub corridors to the central core. "Starboard at this juncture, then hard to port, then we should be in a long corridor to the hub entry."

The away team kept moving at a quick pace. As they turned the corners, Dox moved to the side of Asa and kept her eyes on her HUD, firing into their smoke cover to stun unseen Valkyrie ahead of them. Her focus was sharp as she was committed to not allowing any of the mistakes made on the Section 31 base to be repeated in the here and now.

"Starbase 336 ops, this is Commander Paris of the USS Hera," Rita broadcast on the starbase's internal frequency. "We have a landing party headed to your central core to try to head off the Asgaardians that are currently penetrating it. How can we best coordinate our efforts with your people in there?"

It took a few seconds for the reply to come through, and when it did another voice could still be heard arguing in the background. "You can start by steering clear of the central core. This station is classified top secret, and you people aren't cleared for this material! Our people have the situation under control-"

In that moment the entire structure shuddered, and the sounds of groaning metal and contrasting cavitations were heard and felt. Scanners indicated structural damage was occurring to the station, and as they ran, they entered a section of the station with transparent aluminum viewports, where they could see the chariot drawn by cats parked alongside the central hub of the station as another impact shook the starbase.

"This sure doesn't sound like 'under control' to me. Your station is suffering a severe assault on it's structural integrity. I suggest you sound the abandon ship and get your people to safety," Paris responded as visual distortions began occurring in the clear viewports- the sign of deforming transparent aluminum. "Seal systems, people. I don't know that we're going to have atmosphere for long."

Watching the view ports ripple, the order was quickly obeyed as the EVA suits were sealed in the event of an impending hull breach. "Commander. Recommend we activate mag boots as well. It will slow us down a fraction, but if those windows go, we'll be blown out into space." Dox suggested.

"Agreed, magnetize, crew- I need you on deck here," Paris ordered, processing the situation, listening to good ideas and pressing forward as a unit.

''I have the Valkyries' position on my tricorder, Commander,'' Sonak reported. ''I linked it's readout to the hud of our helmets. This should help us make a safer route out of here to the extraction point.''

Up ahead, still feeding the rest of the team data from her cybernetic eye, Schwein closed up her suit's helmet to reveal a rather stylized skull emblazoned in reflective gold on the forward round lens. Unlike her 'fleeter counterparts, her suit didn't have a nice fancy HUD inside of it, however - that was what her cybernetic eye was for. Instead, it was built to withstand and enhance her already incredible augment strength. With that said, the rifle, two swords, and disruptor lance she carried were not for show either. She just preferred to fight with her gauntlets for a while to make sure she wasn't killing possible future family.

Those thoughts had to wait though as most of the way down the spoke towards the central core, the clear aluminum windows all flexed enough to shatter, the entire walkway twisting slightly. She barely had enough time to magnetize her boots as all the air rushed out, sucking Aesir and 'fleeters alike past her. Glancing around, the life signs of the Valkyries read stable, but the fleeters...

Scrunching her eyes shut for a moment, she tried not to think about it. As a combat medic by trade, this loss of life... It just brought back bad memories. Instead, she pressed on, drawing her short sword as she headed towards the nearest emergency shield. She planned on breaching it and Challenging Freyja. She would answer for this.

At the shield, she found it defended by 'fleeters that looked genuinely scared at her armor and no amount of pointing to the little Starfleet Delta on her chest would convince them to let her in. "Little pig little pig... Let me in..." Chuckling softly, she chose another route. "Baroness von Alcott to Commander Paris. Ze Valkyr are able to fight without suits, so watch out. I am at ze core shields but ze dummkopfs will not let me in no matter how much I huff and puff. I fear they do not believe I am on their side."

"Mister Sonak, override that airlock hatch if you would be so kind," Paris asked as they trudged forward, magnetic boots slowing them down as she unlung her rifle, targeted and began to shoot Starbase personnel who being launched into space unprotected with transporter tags. "Paris to Hera, transporter room one, beam in targets we are painting, emergency evac! Dox, Weinstein, switch to tagging and save as many as you can. Time is of the essence, people!"

''Understood,'' the Vulcan answered as he used his tricorder to scan the lock, calculate the permutations of the opening code.

Slapping her phaser back to her hip, Dox tugged hard on the strap over her shoulder, flipping the massive rifle from her back into her hands, all the while using the readouts on her HUD to cycle the ammunition to the transporter tags. She stepped to the left flank of the security officer. "Weinstein, I've got 9 o'clock to 12. You get 12 to 3."

"Aye ma'am," the large neckless grunt replied, securing his rifle to his shoulder and using the targeting computer to perform rapid-fire tagging of the personnel who might survive if the landing party acted quickly enough.

Taking aim, Dox let out a slight breath and began firing. Not wanting to risk losing anyone, she switched to rapid fire and quickly began spraying the Starfleet personnel with tags. Deciding that the lives were more valuable than her ammunition supply, Dox kept firing as she watched her targets beamed away one by one

Interestingly, several Romulan security personnel were also floating out in space as well, but they were quickly snagged by green transporter beams as they were tagged by a series of Scorpion class scout fighters. Apparently the elusive Romulan commander of the base didn't want to lose any of her people, but saw nothing wrong with letting the Starfleet security force sacrifice themselves.

There was a beep behind them as Sonak turned towards them.

''Hatch ready to be opened, Commander.''

"We're unsealing this hatch. Stand back if you don't want to..." Paris broadcast on the station's comm frequency, even as she saw the Starfleet personnel pull back and level their weapons at the hatch.

"Really, people?" Paris shook her head and rotated her ammunition on her HUD to tears gas grenades. "Start tagging them as soon as we're through with transporter tags. Paris to Hera, security teams to transporter rooms 1 and 4, on the double, friendly fire, I want containment and disarming of incoming personnel."

"All right Mister Sonak," the gold-armored starship siren dropped to one knee and aimed the multi-purpose firearm at the edge of the hatch. "Open, and open fire, people."

Turning toward Petty Officer Weinstein, Dox gestured him towards the port wall. "They're going to be firing blind, so get close to that wall and stay low. Use your HUD to target."

As the hatch opened, the emergency atmospheric forcefields maintained the atmospheric pressure, but did nothing to prevent smoking tear gas canisters ejecting into the core at their entrance point as the crew of the Hera opened fire on Starfleet and Romulan forces arrayed against them.

Taking a knee against the starboard side of the opening, Dox could pinpoint those inside as if there was no smoke all with the HUD scanner and began tagging them for beam out, even as phaser fire began streaking wildly towards them.

Within seconds, the hum of transporter beams could be heard through the swirling mists and the crossfire stopped.

"All right people, move in mark your targets, fire if fired upon, but keep it non-lethal," Paris ordered as she moved in.

"Ceasefire! Stop this tomfoolery! You Federation dogs! Firing on each other when the real enemy is about to breach our inner research labs? What is that dha'rudh of a Commander thinking?" Grabbing a weapon out of the hands of one of the Starfleet security and tossing it aside, a Romulan woman with the rank markings of Riov and wearing the sword of a royal house strode past the forward line of station defenders to address the USS Hera away team.

"Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Riov Dalia Rendal, the Romulan Commander of this station. My Starfleet counterpart lacks... insight... Into this situation and is likely to get us all killed. If you are here to aid us in the defense of our research, then by all means, feel free. You are obviously far better armed and armored and much better prepared to deal with situations such as this." Turning to the side, she motioned that they were free to proceed further into the station.

"In that we're agreed," the gold-clad commander grabbed the Romulan commander by the arm and hustled her along as they spoke. "Commander Rita Paris, of the Federation starship Hera. What's in there that Odin's so determined to breach we're pretty sure is a titan. My question is what's it doing there and what have you people been doing with it? Because that one-eyed Norse fella is-"

A resounding KLANGGG of metal on metal reverberated through everyone present, causing everyone to pause momentarily.

"Mad and determined is what he is, and his wife doesn't seem that pleased either." Paris shoulder slung the great rifle and switched back to her reliable hand phaser, firing a few strafing shots until she connected with a running Valkyrie as she hustled the Romulan commander along. "So any idea why they're so keen on tearing this starbase apart?"

Riov Rendal knew then that at least part of the charade was up and relented in at least knowing that there was a Titan aboard. "Who wouldn't be pissed at a lesser race performing historical research on your forefathers and being given the runaround by some Starfleet Intel dha'rudh? Honestly, I have no idea what sparked his ire other than repeatedly being told that we were unwilling to release the remains to his people. Look, I can clear you as far as the main research lab, but beyond that... Please don't let them get any further."

That little voice in her head told Rita this was about twenty percent mixed truth, which meant that the Romulan commander underestimated her, didn't trust her and desperately wanted to hide whatever was really going on here. Likely because she had mentioned 'remains' and that didn't bode well for whatever Freyja was liable to find should she be effective in penetrating the central core of the complex.

"You'd better stay close to us, Commander. We'll be better able to protect you that way," Rita declared, thinking to herself because I think the Federation might be bringing you up on charges and I don't want you to go vanishing at an opportune moment. Ah, when did you become so paranoid, Rita?

There were great gaping holes in the inner bulkhead where the central core was layered with multiple decks about it, almost as if the station had been built around the core itself, which did make sense. Inside those jagged hull breaches, the result of devastating force applied, were some of the Valkyries, talking cover and making a stand to cover their liege's bride, the queen of the Aesir.

"That's going to be a very difficult firefight, and time-consuming as well, and it's time we don't have. Ideas, people?" Paris called for input, because she didn't have an idea- but their strength was in their diversity.

Calling up a scan of the area where the Valkyrie were taking cover, Dox's HUD could see them all even where the ruptured bulkhead concealed them from a direct line of sight. "Commander, scans are showing that the closer we get to that Titan signature, the more signal interference we're getting. We couldn't just have them beamed away."

Looking again at the data, Dox paused for a second. "The Transporter tags are designed to act as pattern enhancers, but we don't have a clear shot for them... but what about the reverse? We can shoot tags past them. Over their cover and behind them... have the Hera beam a couple of us behind their cover. Myself and Weinstein can target the Valkyrie, the Baroness can confront Freyja. While they're dealing with us, you can close up the gap?"

"Beaming takes too long," the silver haired pirate replied. Beaming your allies out to save them was one thing, but beaming your enemies out so others had to fight them? That was dirty fighting to the Baroness and she didn't like it. The whole suggestion about beaming behind her enemies at the start was one thing, but to do it in the middle of a fight also sounded dirty to her. She just had to explain it to her 'fleeter friends in a way they would accept.

"While we beam, they attack, we lose." Schwein then put away her shortsword, and pulled out her disruptor lance in her off hand and pulled out what appeared to be a broken claymore in her main hand. With a squeeze of the hilt, it unfolded to a full length claymore and began vibrating. "You are familiar with principals of Blitzkrieg, ja? I will act as a battering ram, draw their attentions, and give you the openings you need. Then I will engage Freyja. No beaming, no tricks. Just honorable combat with good strategy and teamwork. Ja?"

It was on the whole a decent plan; there was the fact that these might just be the Baroness' in-laws soon, and in truth Rita didn't have a better idea. "Technically I can't order you not to. All right people, set a firing line, we follow the Baroness in-" The supersoldier held up three fingers, and Paris nodded. "Three seconds. Mark your targets, move and fire, let the sensors do their jobs. Doc, stick to my six as usual."

"Look sharp, crew, and let's go stop a war while it's still a diplomatic incident."

"Baroness," Rita grasped the pirate captain's shoulder and looked her in her organic eye and splayed a devil-may-care grin at Schwein, an expression that conveyed the absolute confidence she had in the woman. "Godspeed- go!"

"Feuer frei, meine kameraden!" With that, the Baroness grinned a shit eating grin and charged into the thick of the Aesir, screaming at the top of her lungs and firing at them with her disruptor lance while carving into their cover with her claymore like it was paper. She was doing excellent at drawing their fire as well, but most shots went wild. Even the ones that came close only grazed her armor or punched holes in her already battle-scarred cloak.

As she got closer to where Freyja was hammering on the hatch, it was as if the Baroness entered a righteous fury. Leaping over Valkyries still undercover as if they were toddlers at a tea party, she took to kicking them over with her armored boots.

Then right as Freyja got the large doors to the last lab which contained the Titan open, Schwein fired a few shots from her disruptor lance to get her future mother-in-law's attention, before abandoning it in one final leap. Freyja turned to meet her, the arrogant smirk fading from her face as her spear shook heavily from the impact of the silver-haired Baroness's claymore, easily driving the Goddess back at least a meter before she caught her footing.

"That woman can really cover a LOT of ground in three seconds. Go, go!" Rita urged the landing party forward, phasers lancing out as they advanced.

As they advanced, Dox laid down a strong suppressing fire with her phaser, targeting the remaining bulkheads the Valkyrie were using as cover with maximum power to cause the metal to superheat and explode away.

Assessing the tactical situation, Sonak, instead of firing directly at enemies deftly maneuvering to get cover, opened fire at setting 10 in a subtle pattern to make them react and move away from his line fire; so that they would hesitate to charge and be better exposed to those of his teamates.

In the momentary confusion of the blasts, Dox reduced her phaser down to the highest stun setting to resume fire, rendering unconscious one Valkyrie as another rushed the stout young Romulan with her spear. With less than an inch to spare, Dox rolled out of the way of the lunge but in doing so fell slamming hard against the deck.

From the deck, Dox reached around to her back to pull out a short metal rod that, with a flick, extended into a two-meter long staff with a glowing blue end just in time to block a lunge from the advancing Valkyrie.

All the while, the Vulcan science officer was also on the move, stopping his firing pattern and thus managing to flank the opposition. While the other Valkyries charged past him, both his hands found the necks of a pair of warrior women, dropping them like stringless puppets. This however gave a third one time to turn and come at him, blade raised. A sharp pivot on one foot barely missed cleaving him from skull to crotch; and sending his clipped phaser off his belt to clatter in a debris-filled corner.

Aware of the loss, Sonak lost no time in switching to close combat. Following his pivot, he stayed very close to the swordwoman, making sure her blade would be hampered by their closeness, enough to continue his rotation around and right behind her before she could move away back to proper striking distance. The experienced warrioress would have stabbed him backward with the hilt of her sword if his fingers had not already found both sides of her head.

''Sisters! Peace!''

That Valkyrie was not their leader. Thus, the others simply stopped for barely a second, startled by the sudden, unexpected call shouted by of one of their own. The psionic suggestion thus voiced would not deter them more, as they instantly noticed the Vulcan standing behind her and holding her as a shield between them with a weird grip on her head and face.

Sonak just expected this to be enough for his team to bring the confrontation to a close.

If... his calculations were right.

Still on the ground, using every bit of enhancement the EVA suit could provide, Dox was holding the Valkyrie on top of her from plunging her spear tip through her visor into her brain with her own staff. For a split second, the Valkyrie was distracted by Sonak's strategy, allowing Dox to move.

She let up pressure on the right side of her defense, forcing the staff to slide to her right and plunge with force into the deck right beside her head. As it did, the bladed edge sliced too close and cut through the shoulder of Dox's armor as the young Romulan pilot let out a hoarse scream of pain.

But she used the opening to slam the glowing edge of her staff into the Valkyrie's stomach. With a bright blue burst of energy from the tip of the weapon, the Valkyrie was blown back off of Dox by the stunning blast from her staff.

At the sound of her scream, Weinstein laid down cover fire, stunning the downed Valkyrie and interposing himself as an armored wall between Dox and the battle. “You okay, Lieutenant?”

"Thanks, I'm okay." Dox assured the fresh security officer. “Let’s keep moving.”

“Like hell,” Asa grumbled quietly to themselves, reaching into their shoulder-slung bag to withdraw a tissue knitter and hypo. The doctor stepped over to the pilot, and after a quick scan with the newly built-in medical tricorder in the hand of their armor, Asa grunted and peeled Dox’s armor back a bit, revealing a bloodied shoulder.

“This is going to sting, brace yourself, Lieutenant.” Then, after knitting as much of the wound that could be reached without taking the time to compromise the rest of the damaged armor, Dael injected a hypo to ward off pain and infection. The injection contained a small amount of stimulant as well, both to encourage blood reproduction and enhance battle reflexes. Once that was complete, Asa used a portable cauterizer to seal back together as much of the arm of Dox’s armor as possible.

“It won’t be as sturdy as it was before, but should hold together for you. Once we are back on the Hera I want to do a full exam, but this has at least nullified any particulate matter or infection. Just try not to land on that side?” Asa said, patting Mnhei’sahe’s good shoulder in a conciliatory manner. They hated battle, hated seeing their friends wounded, hated the senseless loss of life. The universe had given no options today though, so the doctor was simply doing all they could to keep everyone in one piece.

“Everyone else ok?” Dael called, scanning to confirm that everyone else was hale in body. After quickly confirming all were well, Asa noticed the Valkyrie that Mnhei’sahe had blown back was beginning to stir. In a no-nonsense fashion, Asa walked over and used flexible restraints to secure the Valkyrie’s hands and feet.

“Commander, should I rouse our friend here?” Dael inquired, pointing at the now-secured combatant.

“Converge on my position,” Paris grunted as she caught a Valkyrie’s blade on her own, then she raised her leg to place a boot in her opponent's chest, shoving her away then stunning her with a phaser beam. “Looks like Freyja and the Baroness are currently engaged in a duel, and the remainder of the forces- DROP THAT DISRUPTOR, MISTER, OR LOSE THAT HAND!” Paris barked at a Romulan security officer who was recovering and reaching for his weapon. "Seem to be routed for now."

"Yes, your people appear to be exceptionally well trained..." added Riov Rendal, letting the implied 'for Starfleet' hang in the air a moment before continuing. "We still have the issue of that last invader and that... Did you bring a pirate with you? How quaint."

Meanwhile, the duel between Schwein and Freyja was fast and furious, both swinging with their respective weapons, a nanopulse claymore and an uru spear, but neither were making headway against the other. The impacts alone were sending out shockwaves powerful enough to strip the walkway they were fighting on over the great slumbering Titan Iapetus of its hand railings a piece at a time. It was obvious both were fighting with their full power, but it was obvious which one would run out of stamina first. While Schwein was an amazing warrior, Freyja was Aesir and could fight like this for what was rumored to be an eternity.

Hence the silver-haired pirate needed to get the upper hand somehow.

In the center of the walkway, she saw her chance. The catwalk supports were thinner so she pressed the attack, momentarily driving her future mother-in-law back, the air bursts from the blows stripping away the grating beneath their feet as well now. With even more precarious footing, Schwein leaped back a few steps and switched to a one-handed hold on her claymore and pulled out that federation TR-116C2 rifle, quickly cycling it over to grenades and firing off a trio of them right at Freyja's face. She was able to swat away the first two.

But not the third one.

The sneaky pirate had triggered all three at that point so they exploded all around the queen of the Aesir, catching her off guard. Slapping the rifle back on her back, she leapt for Freyja with her claymore across the gap she had created and landing square on top of the woman, pinning her to the remains of the far catwalk, claymore embedded in it and at the woman's throat. One armored foot was on Freyja's chest and her spear was lodged into the handrailing, out of her reach. "YIELD!"

“Nobody move, nobody interfere… we need to let this play out,” Paris broadcast aloud as she stepped through the breach into the central chamber, where below the Titan slumbered. “Eyes open, let’s make sure no other complications arise in this particular scenario,” the gold-clad commander ordered. “I don’t want the Baroness catching a stray disruptor bolt for her trouble or getting stunned by a trigger-happy security officer. Mister Sonak, I need interpretation of these readings… what are we looking at down there?”

The Vulcan's eyebrow rose as he looked at his tricorder readings.

''According to these readings and our updated data banks, this is... a Titan.''

He rechecked the instrument's calibration before confirming.

''More precisely, this would be the Titan Iapetus, if our current data is exact; and it seems, judging by the instruments and scanners hooked to it, that someone was most eager to extricate the molecular and atomic structure and monitor it's energy and physiological makeup.''

He looked up at his wife, his superior officer.

''What we are seeing here is experimentation on an unwilling sentient entity; a clear and unambiguous violation of scientific ethics, if not simply morality.''

“Well, that explains the Aesir’s ire. Don’t suppose you’d care to explain this one, Commander?” Paris turned a skeptical eye to the Romulan commander she had kept close to her throughout this, even as a Starfleet commander arrived, brandishing a modern phaser.

But Starfleet or not, Dox simply saw someone approaching her First Officer with a weapon, so the lieutenant's phaser was primed at a low ready position as she kept a watchful eye on the newcomer.

Meanwhile, Freyja grinned and relaxed, chuckling at her defeat. "Well, I now see why my son fancies you. I yield, Piglet."

Schwein then grinned and collapsed her claymore, returning it to her belt and offering Freyja a hand up. "Then now that the truth of this station is exposed, let us stop this fighting and begin talking."

At Sonak’s report to Rita, Asa had begun to silently fume at the audacity of everyone who had presumed to capture another sentient life form and experiment on it. Those days were to be in the long distant past of science as far as Asa was concerned, and there would be hell to pay for anyone who would stoop to such barbarism.

Opening themselves to the energies in the room in the way Death had taught them, Asa focused on the pained energy radiating from the form of Iapetus in the core of the station. Sensing a tendril they could reach, Asa sent their own energies into Iapetus, forming a mental image of rescue and reassurance, picturing themselves reaching out a hand towards Iapetus, a gesture of greeting and help throughout the universe.

There was something else coming towards them- fast. The energies Dael sensed were full of wrath and fury, war, pain, murder, and victory. The doctor gulped and formed a mental image of the Hera team shining as beacons of hope and friendship, conveying their intent to free Iapetus and form a truce long enough to sort out the guilty parties… and a determination to see those guilty brought to justice. They were only partially aware of Rita beginning to speak, but instead continued to suffuse Iapetus with a trickle of their own life force and awareness.

“Just who the hell do you people think you are? You can’t be in here, this is all top secret material and the experiments here are so far above your clearance you shouldn’t be anywhere near this area! Get out, all of you!” Commander Peirce fumed and snarled, even as a rainbow began to coalesce behind him.

“It might or might not be above our clearance, but I think the fellow behind you might disagree,” Paris observed as the All-Father himself, Odin, liege lord of Asgard, master of the golden realm and patron of the Norse pantheon, ruler of the Aesir and commander of the Valkyries arrived, clad in his golden battle armor with his great spear Gungnir in his firm right hand.

“WHAT BASE TREACHERY, THIS? WHAT FOUL PERFIDITY BE AT HAND? WHAT DOTH THESE MORTALS PLAY AT WITH THE FORM AND FOUNDATIONS OF THOSE WHO BEGAT US?” his voice boomed, heard throughout the station as well as local space.

Accepting the offered help, Freyja projected her voice as well. "I BELIEVE OUR FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW IS CORRECT! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR BLADES BUT THE TIME FOR WORDS, DEAR HUSBAND!"

“All right, let’s get this started then,” Paris nodded, then her voice boomed out of the station’s comms and through every Starbase 336 comm badge.

=^= Attention all parties- this is Commander Rita Paris of the starship USS Hera. Cease all hostilities immediately. All factions involved, Aesir, Human and Romulan, are all currently entering a cease-fire. Anyone who disagrees will answer to a higher power, quite literally. So lower your weapons and let’s all pretend we are striving for a peaceful resolution, =^= she broadcast, then she turned to the towering figure of the one-eyed liege lord of Asgaard.

“Lord Odin, known as the Wanderer, the All-Father, ruler of the Norse Gods, governor of war, death, poetry, the arts and wisdom. He who gave one of his eyes to drink of the well of wisdom. We greet you in humility and beg an audience to parley for peace,” Rita began. While she herself didn't know all of those titles, the Fedepedia article she was reading from did. She might not have been the smartest girl in the room, but she knew how to look up a list of titles when diplomacy and some soothing words were needed.

“You have no authorization-“
“You do not speak for the Star Empire-“

Both station commanders began objecting, as Paris unlimbered the great rifle she had shoulder-slung at the moment and pointed the phaser at Starfleet and her rifle at Romulus.

“Both of you had plenty of time to negotiate long before now. So you can both stuff a sock in it, unless it involves explaining away this travesty of justice that appears to be occurring here. The big man’s got something to say, to air his grievance, and you’re going to hear him out before you start trying to excuse all this. Milord, you have the floor,” Paris wasn’t sure what the etiquette here was when dealing with gods, but she figured standard Starfleet diplomacy would work.

“Forsooth, the All-Father shall have his say!” Odin intoned, looking down at the slumbering form of the titan. “Why hast thou done this thing? To what end hast thou imprisoned one of the great titans, a judgment which e’en the gods may not pass pon such a being? The All-Father would know the truth- thou hast dealt in lies and nonsense and deceit, thus why mine personage was forced to intervene. Speak now, and know that the all-seeing eye of Odin e'er knows truth from falsehood!”

Sensing the immediate danger was receding, Doctor Dael looked to Commander Paris while drawing their tissue knitter, osteo-generator, and other medical tools from their bag. Before stepping towards the nearest Romulan that appeared to be nursing several blade wounds and an arm at a highly unusual angle, they said, “By your leave, Commander?”

Riov Rendal knew all too well the power Odin had over lies and truth and stepped back half a step. "I do not object to your medical treatment of our people, Doctor. As for your query... As a member of the Tal Shiar and a proud member of a royal family of Romulus, I hereby exercise my right to remain silent."

At the mention of the Tal Shiar, the part-Romulan Starfleet officer went rigid. The Romulan 'secret police' were the boogeymen of Dox's childhood and she suddenly felt that old fear creep in.

Commander Paris nodded and waved, silently indicating for Dr. Dael to continue before bringing the barrel of the rifle up to point in the face of Rendal, and extending her phaser arm toward Commander Peirce. “I believe the angry Teutonic god asked you a question we’d all like to hear the answers to… so, do you want this to go easy, or hard? Because nobody is in a good mood here, and this could all turn to bloodshed again very quickly if you want to keep stalling. As the two in charge here, I think the odds are pretty good he’ll likely start with you… and frankly, I'm not in a terribly charitable mood myself.”

The Romulan Commander put on an even more haughty air about herself, as if that was possible. "Fine. In the interest of diplomacy." She then motioned to the sleeping Titan. "That twelve-meter tall creature... Is, as I understand it, the sleeping form of a being known as a Titan, called by your people Iapetus. We were performing joint research on it with Starfleet Intel, the minutiae of which, I was not made aware of." Technically, everything she said was true. She didn't concern herself with micromanaging the research - she was just concerned with the fact that it was being done expediently. Never mind that she might have known what types of research were being conducted in the Romulan labs. She then motioned for her slimy Starfleet counterpart to spill a few beans.

"Races of immortal beings who have interfered in human history in our formative stages, now taken to the stars as they wage their private little vendettas and wars," Commander Peirce began. "Taking over entire planets and bending them to their knee. Bulldozing their way into classified Starfleet operations whenever they wish. Convincing those whose lifespans are not forever to ally to them as they run roughshod over the entire galaxy. What if they decide to return to Earth, decide they don't care for our advancement and decide to hurl is back to the bronze age, where we were more tractable," Commander Peirce asked, looking pointedly at the phaser pointed at his head. "Take away our little toys, as it were."

"We live very finite lifespans, whereas they do not. They can put plans into motion that will take centuries to come to fruition because they have the time, you see. While we are scrambling to get things done in the meager time allotted us, they can play the long game. Immune to disease, to the ravages of time, empowered by bone and muscle mass ten times denser than a human. It hardly seems fair that such beings stride the spaceways, meddling in the affairs of we mere mortals." Looking up at Odin, Peirce raised an eyebrow.

"How dare we strive to study your progenitors, to learn their secrets, and through them, yours. How dare we wish to stand as equals amongst you, not below you. How dare we not know our place in the food chain and seek to understand, to know, to grant such gifts to our own people that you so selfishly keep to yourselves. That's what's been going on here," the sandy-haired commander gestured broadly to the slumbering titan. "The subject isn't dead, just sleeping. He was asleep when we found him and he's still asleep, and dreaming, according to the brainscans we've been monitoring. We've kept him safe, we've not harmed him, and we've been studying him."

"The sheer, unbridled gall, hm? How dare we try to learn more about beings who can do so much with so little effort that they can change the course of galactic history on a whim... or a tantrum," The starbase commander turned smugly, giving his audience a moment to digest all that.

Doctor Dael had just finished putting the downed Romulan's arm back in the socket when they looked up, eyes full of fury.

"How dare you hold any sentient being captive in the name of research? How dare you sully the name of science with your experimentation? How dare you claim the moral high ground when you inflict your will on others? Did humanity not learn firsthand knowledge is not worth the price? Or did you find Mengele a role model?" Asa said in a cold, flat voice. None of the doctor's usual compassion or warmth was in evidence as they strode to their next patient, a bleeding human, and began about the task of stopping his bleeding.

"Idiot. Did you miss the part where we've been protecting him?" Commander Peirce snarled. "Where do you think all of your medical knowledge and equipment came from? Research, moron. How dare we-"

"ENOW!" The butt of the great spear Gungnir came down, and the entire station reverberated from the impact, that rolled like thunder.

"Okay, let's try a little game I like to call jurisdiction," Paris interjected, trying to calm things down a notch. "Odin, you now know what's going on here. I'd like to hear your thoughts on the matter."

"Scavengers, circling one of the ancient powers of the universe... the very titan of immortality himself, he who lent his longevity to us all. Laid out as carrion for insects to devour and study..." the All-Father grumbled as a call came in on Paris' comms, which she took privately for a few seconds, then turned back to the assemblage. From her left forearm sprang video of a laboratory, with science officers in blue EVA armor alongside security gold.

"...a bit of doing to get in, but there's all sorts of nasty stuff down here, Commander. I'd need to do some genuine research, but just from here it looks like they've been growing his brain matter, hooking it up to replicators to tap into some sort of creation code? There are wards down here of Human and Romulan personnel who have all been injected with various serums and materials- again, there's a lot to take in, but this is definitely genetic engineering, highly illegal, and it's produced some horrific results." Panning his visual scanner about, the science officer showed a sealed ward filled with humanoids for the most part, although some were so mutated as to be unrecognizable as humanoid any longer.

"Lieutenant, over here!" called someone offscreen, and the scientist moved to intercept. "If this material is to be believed sir, they've been throwing every disease in the book at them, radiation, what have you... I think they're trying to figure out how to kill them, sir," the excited ops crewman explained. "The test subject is over..."

Following the gold-clad ops crewman, the image shifted as they saw a sealed chamber with a 1/2 meter cube of what looked like to be meat, until the camera zoomed in and skin and hair could be seen on one edge. As the hairs rose slightly in the breeze, it was suddenly evident that this was a plug of flesh taken from the titan itself, which the station researchers had been using to study, trying to find a way to kill the square of flesh which, even separated from the body of the Titan, was still immortal.

The young ops officer threw up in his helmet, as did the science officer, and Paris cut the feed. Her own ire rising, Paris turned to hold up her hands to Odin, whose rage was literally a palpable thing, radiating outward from him as the winds picked up inside the starbase.

"Whoah whoah whoah, this is bad, this is VERY bad, but PLEASE let's not get murdery here, because that's not going to do anything but start a war! You don't want a war with the Federation, Odin! I know it looks very tempting right now, but that's not going to go well for anyone. So let's calm down and discuss this like sensible-"

"Oh don't be naive," Commander Peirce began when Rita Paris stunned him, point-blank, dropping the man to the floor with a twitch in her eye.

"More than enough out of you today, mister. Now, do you have some remarkable justification for all of this, or can you come up with any reason whatsoever why I shouldn't just get out of the way of the old god's wrath?" Rita Paris asked the Romulan commander.

The Romulan Commander raised her hands defensively, her eyes wide. "Countermeasures against other seemingly immortal beings? Ah... I assume from your look that that's a poor justification. Would you believe for the future survival of the Romulan Star Empire, then? No? Then how about I just get out of your way?" Slowly stepping to the side, Riov Rendal tried to make sure she wasn't in any way inhibiting access to the Titan.

That was when yet another party decided to beam on in. In a sparkle, Commodore Meowlith and four of her black-uniformed security forces beamed in. "Commander Paris, it's good to see you again. Mighty Odin, it pleases me to see that your beard is as long as ever. As for Riov Rendal and Commander Pierce, I've heard most of your conversation thanks to the open comm channels with the USS Hera. I'll be relieving both of command and detaining both for questioning if no one has any complaints."

"I think not," rumbled Odin. "These are crimes against immortals, and they shall be judged by immortals. The Jarl of Valhalla trusts not the laws of men to adequately punish their own in such a matter. They seek our deaths, and the ruination of our people. Justice would be served ere they be remanded to the All-Father, not to the company of their fellows."

As Odin spoke, Meowlith signaled for her people to apprehend the two station commanders. When he was done, the Commodore raised a finger to count her points. "One, they are now in my custody so you'll have to request extradition for them or cause another intergalactic incident. Two, if I'm not mistaken, your wife and future daughter in law have taken custody of the Titan Iapetus." A bit of a stretch, but it guaranteed that Odin walked out of here with the slumbering form. "Three, unless you mean to violate our treaty... Again... And this time without reasonable cause... Might I remind you that our agreement states that Living Mortals are tried by Mortals and Immortals are tried by Immortals? Besides, unless you plan on meting out justice upon their brows at this very juncture, they'll never live long enough to see their day in your courts."

Meowlith turned to face Odin, dropping her hands to her sides. "Now... Do we have an accord?"

Everyone held their breath as the imposing figure leveled his spear in the direction of the Romulan commander Rendal. His one good eye blazed with fury, then abruptly he raised his spear, setting its hilt back on the deck. "The All-Father shall stay his hand this day, for truly, that is the pact he hath made with the mortals of Midgaard. If the word of Odin be not bond, then forsooth, what be? Away with these spurious knaves, these blackguards who would play dice with the gods. The liege lord of Asgaard hath time enow for eternity... but none for thou."

"Farenia, daughter of Meowlith, Odin doth thank thee for thy reminder of mine oath. Thou hast mine gratitude. Now, where be this vixen whom hath charmed my errant son?" Odin looked about, catching the eye of Freyja.

Schwein, for her part, was looking back and forth between Odin and Freyja when she was suddenly hoisted and with a stamp of her spear, Freyja leaped back across the broken catwalks to the splintered doorway they had previously entered. "She is here, husband. She has bested me in fair combat, no less, and I would welcome her into the family with my full blessing."

There was a tense moment as Odin bent over to look eye to eye with the cybernetic pirate. Peering deeply, as if measuring her worth by viewing it through the window of her soul, the golden-armored god stood up and stamped the heel of his spear on the deck once more. "If a mortal he hath chosen then a mortal shell Thor wed. So sayeth Odin!"

"For now, we must gather up poor Iapetus, who deserves better than this. If thou wouldst life to see another day, make haste from this place. For while mortal justice may hold sway, what hath been learned here must go no further. This place shall be no more- tis the will of the All-Father!"

A glance to the Commodore to confirm that was a concession she was willing to make, and Paris began barking orders. "All right people, round up the personnel and let's get this place evacuated. You heard the man, this place shall be no more. Mister Sonak, Doctor Dael, that experimental wing down on Deck 3- oversee the evacuation of those test subjects. Make sure any of them who need to be isolated are identified and moved accordingly. Miss Dox, organize our runabouts no longer involved in rescue from the Aldrin and get them busy getting these people out of here. Paris to Hera, inform transporter rooms to begin beaming personnel out of here and into custody, have Security turn Cargo bays 3 and 4 into a holding area. Release any Valkyries currently held on the Hera."

"Aye, Commander." Dox replied, holstering her weapon as she stepped away, already on her Comm badge with the flight deck of the Hera to enact Paris' orders.

''Acknowledged,'' also confirmed Sonak just as he tapped his suit's controls to open a channel to the ship. ''Hera, this is Lieutenant Sonak; get a fix on my position and prepare transporters for evavuation of afflicted personnel. Doctor Dael will direct the operation.''

Stepping over to the father of the Norse pantheon, Paris offered a salute. "Thank you for your patience, sir. Appreciate you bringing this to our attention, so we could root it out and put a stop to it."

"Look to thine own house, shieldmaiden," Odin rumbled. "Think thou where one vermin is found, might not a nest be hidden? Thy Federation hath lofty principles, yet 'twould seem not all within it share thy noble mein. Make not the wandering god point out thy folly a second time, lest he think thou'rt insincere."

At that, Paris looked troubled, but said nothing, nodding firmly to the cosmic being.

Taking a breath, Asa stepped forward to address Odin, All-father and figure of legend. In a clear voice, Asa called, “Haptasnytrir, Oski, Skollvaldr and Sanngetall. I ask thee a boon. You are teacher and wish granter, ruler over treachery and finder of truth. We mortal here have need of thee here. There are those who suffer, victims of treachery done upon them, dying and wishing for a miracle. I will do all I can for them, but I know not all the ways. I beg thee, Allfather, show mercy to those who suffer. Canst thou return to them their original form? Or impart unto me the knowledge to do so? I beg thy mercy and offer myself into a compact with thee to serve thy people for a thousand years. I will tell others of thy mercy, spreading word of thy might. When my time with Starfleet is complete, in no more than one thousand years, I will enter thy service directly and serve in thy court if thou wilt aid these souls. What say you, Valkjosandi? Chose not to slay these innocents, I beg you.”

Their speech complete, Asa stood boldly facing Odin, hoping they seemed brave in spite of the fear coursing through their veins. There was risk to this plan- and Starfleet may have some choice words for Asa entering this compact, but what they had seen from the test subjects was enough to move the doctor to any action to restore those souls to health. No one should suffer in such a way, and a loss of a thousand years was one Asa would gladly make to give back to others their own 200 years.

The Commodore paused in calling out orders to her own ship to intervene in the request from Asa to Odin. "Ah, that's not possible since they're mortal still, and worse, likely non-believers. I'll take them aboard the USS Photon and get them back to Starfleet Medical to see what can be done for them." She rested one hand on Asa's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the best doctors are on the case."

“Thine offer of service for mercy doth not fall upon deaf ears, youngling. But this be mortal meddling, and best left to mortals. Were the laird of Asgaard to interfere, all might end in tragedy. I say thee nay- better for the mortals to tend to their own,” Odin relayed, his voice gentle with the young immortal.

“I thank thee for thy kindness, Grimnir, and for thy wisdom. I welcome our next meeting in the hopes we find ourselves upon a merrier field,” Asa replied solemnly, but with a soft smile. Something about Odin tickled Asa’s fancy…perhaps because he was supportive of his children’s decisions, or his true love of his wife. Things Asa had always wished to see in their own father, now prominently on display.

Then turning to the Commodore and Paris, “With your permission ma’ams, I will go aid in transport to your ship and in the triage of any wounded personnel?”

“Carry on, Lieutenant Dael. Okay people, let’s get this wrapped up,” Paris called, command steel in her voice. “The Commodore is going to handle the test subjects, Paris to transporter room 4, where are we at on getting station personnel beamed up?” Paris was switching channels as she spoke, the complex HUD in her armor making multitasking communications much easier than with her old flip front communicator.

“Twelve more personnel to beam up, Commander. ETA three minutes,” came the response from the transporter room of the Hera.

“Spectacular. Paris to Hera, route me to Security. How are those incoming personnel holding up, Chief Riley?” Rita asked.

“They’re getting very confrontational, ma’am,” Riley explained. “The Romulans are demanding to be remanded to Romulan custody.”

“Tell them they can sit down and be quiet and wait to be transferred or they can sleep off stunning, their choice. Feel free to make a few examples, I’ll be up there presently. Miss Dox, would you be so kind as to commandeer a runabout to pick me up? I’ve had enough molecular scrambling for today I think, and it looks like the Liege of Asgaard is being beneficent enough to give me time to make my exit before he blows this place to Hela.”

The guarded Romulan Commander raised her hand, pausing in her own evacuation efforts with the two surviving Romulan ships, small though they were. "If I may, Commander? There is a bay of Scorpion fighters not far from here. It would be a shame for them all to go to waste and the pair of antiquated warbirds at our disposal can't even evacuate a quarter of my staff, let alone any tech or data." Turning back to the person she was talking to previously, she looked annoyed. "Yes, leave it all behind and focus on the scientists. Get them all aboard and we'll worry about the rest later. If they have a clearance..."

“Good plan. Lieutenant Dox, commandeer a Scorpion, and oversee their deployment with the remaining personnel. If anyone tries anything, relieve them of their contraband or bad attitude and feel free to leave them behind if they are particularly obstinate. Two minutes to full evacuation, so move out!” Paris ordered the redheaded Romulan renegade. "I'd rather not bee here when the angry god unleashes his fury today..."

"Aye, Commander," Dox replied with the slightest of grins. Rita and she had discussed getting their hands on a Scorpion for just such an emergency and this was like a gift from the gods, almost literally. Immediately, she had called up their location on her Heads Up Display and took off at the marching pace Rita had made standard operating procedure on the Hera. As she walked, she unholstered the massive weapon from off of her back and called up the transporter tag ammunition again. As she did, she tapped her comm badge.

"Dox to Ensign Paulsen. Is that corner of Flight Deck 2 still clear?" She said as she walked. Within a few seconds, a voice replied quickly. "Aye, Chief."

Continuing, Dox kept walking and talking. "I'm sending transporter tag coordinates. As soon as you get the signal, please hop on the cargo transporter and beam up the items that I'll be tagging, thank you. And, uh, make sure that area is completely clear."

As Paulsen confirmed his orders, Dox marched into the hanger bay where she saw 10 beautiful Romulan Scorpions: Sleek, two-person transport fighters. Running frantically around them were a number of Romulan officers grabbing whatever equipment they could carry, much like proverbial chickens with their heads cut off. Stopping at the entry. Dox retracted her helmet so her Romulan ears were as clearly visible as possible and whistled loudly into the room. As she did, the officers came to a halt, confused.

"Who's in charge, here? You're under orders to evacuate immediately, so why are you all still here?" Dox commanded. Immediately, one of the officers shouted back, "I am! And I do not take orders from a Starfleet..."

But as he spoke, Dox simply raised her weapon and fired a tag into the shoulder of the officer. "Paulsen, this one goes to the brig for now, thank you." As she spoke, he vanished, mid-sentence in the glistening spray of the transporter.

Clearing her throat, Dox continued to yell, this time in perfect Rihan, to the remaining Romulan officers. She began walking towards the Scorpions as she did. "Commander Rendal has ordered this bases evacuation and we have less than a minute to do so, so each of you pair off, get in one of these and MOVE, do I make myself clear?"

The confused officers began scrambling to the Scorpions as Dox continued, still speaking in Rihan. "Except for these. These are mine." And shot tags on two scorpion's hulls. "Paulsen, bring my new toys home, thank you."

As the small ships vanished in a shimmer of transporter lights, Dox walked over to a third Scorpion and climbed in the cockpit, stowing her weapon by her side. The controls were like old hat to the young Romulan pilot as she smirked. "Oh, you are beautiful."

Within seconds, the Scorpion was airborne, but instead of exiting through the space doors, Dox shot it expertly into the interior corridor back the way she came. Moments later, the small ship launched into the main hall where Rita Paris had been waiting as Dox slid the scorpion down into a hover beside the catwalk and lifted the shiny black cockpit shield as she gestured to Paris. "Commander. If you will."

“Paris to Hera, how are we progressing on the station evacuation?” the curvaceous commander called as Commodore Meowlith and the commanders of the base vanished in transporter twinkles.

“Looks like the last of the personnel are evacuating now, Commander. You and Lieutenant Dox, and Baroness von Alcott are the only life signs aboard other than the two gods and your titan there, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Stand by,” Paris ordered, then turned to the punchy pirate with a prim smile. “Baroness, will you be returning to the Hera or do you have some time to spend with your future in-laws?”

Freya pulled Schwein into a hug and whispered something into her ear which left the silver-haired pirate wide-eyed, but whatever it was, she just nodded and stepped over next to her friends. "I still have some business to take care of on ze Hera, Commander. And there is time before ze wedding."

“Wunderbar,” Paris declared. “That being the case, please beam back to the Hera, Baroness. Odin, Freyja, I leave the remainder of this matter of titans in the hands of the gods,” the golden armored Valkyrie declared, climbing into the cockpit of the Scorpion fighter craft. “I know it was not the ideal solution to this situation, but I hope it is at least satisfactory to you.”

The Baroness nodded and tapped her comm unit. "Baroness von Alcott to USS Hera. One to beam back." A moment later, a transporter beam whisked the golden armored pirate away.

"Then that's our cue as well," Commander Paris sealed the cockpit of the Scorpion fighter, and the hotshot pilot roared it out of the starbase, through the holes Freyja had smashed to get into the place and back out into open space.

Standing on the edge of the catwalk looking down, Odin shook his head. "A slumbering titan and they entrust him to our care, with all the research and work they've done for us. What fools these mortals be," Odin chuckled.

"Let us take our prize home, my dear."

The Bifrost radiated out, encompassing the chamber, then the core, then the hub and finally encompassing the entire station. It shone brightly.. then the entirety of Starbase 336 was simply no longer there, the only evidence the debris from the recent battle still floating in space.

The engineering bay of the USS Hera was abuzz with noise, as the ship's engineering team did what they did best. The andorian chief of engineering's antenna was vibrating slightly at all the noise, as she yelled out instructions to her men. "Right, I want repair teams on deck three, four and seven patching up the power grid, and I want it fixed yesterday. I do NOT want us to be using the backup power grid if that ship comes round for another attack run," she yelled, blowing some of the smoke from a few of the exploded consoles out of her face.

"Boss, warp core is holding," called one of the engineers, to which Thex gave a grin. Something was going right at least. "Very good- everyone else, you know the drill. Start with the highest priority systems and work...." the cold-climate commander began, before her antenna began to detect the faint vibrations that could only be one thing- the displacement effect that preceded a transporter effect.

=^= Thex to the bridge, we have intruders! =^= the andorian yelled out as several Valkyries right out of a classic Conan the Barbarian painting materialized in the room.

The lead Valkyrie, a frosty blonde Nordic goddess clad in high-tech Norse styled armor complete with a flowing purple cloak. Setting her broad shoulders on her sturdy muscular frame, the ice-blue eyed warrior woman raised her spear to point it at Lieutenant Commander sh'Zoarhi. "Kill all who oppose us and destroy this place, my sisters. Valhalla awaits!"

Which was when the spear was struck by a surprisingly precise phaser beam. An amplified and authoritative woman's voice rang out.

"Get down, Commander!" as another beam struck the lead Valkyrie, irritating her even as she drew a spiked mace from her belt and with a 'phoont!' sound a gas grenade landed amongst the shieldmaidens of Odin, who moved to scatter.

Thex brain was already working as her legs began to move as he crew scattered. knowing her uniform would provide no protection against these women the andorian was sprinting over to the replicator that held the emergency environmental suits.

The leader of the Valkyrie was in the way of the andorian. Thankfully she was busy shooting at the assigned security team who were taking cover on the second floor.

Drawing the heaviest tool in her belt the Andorian grabbed the Valkyrie's cloak and with a jump that could only come from the athletic chief engineer she leapt over the Norse warrior woman, pulled her cloak over her helmet before bringing the tool down on her helmeted head as hard as she could, Which resulted in a resounding 'CLANG!'

"Seriously, who wears capes into a firefight?" The andoian yelled as she leapt away, and scrambled over to the replicator. Standing on the pad, she knew the five seconds needed to replicate the suit. The seconds dragged by before the familiar suit was beamed onto the andorian. Just as one of the Valkyrie's spears smashed into the replicator, sending sparks and metal flying.

"Oh great, another thing I needed to fix." She yelled at the woman as she used the spear as leverage to throw herself over the Norse warrior. The warrior woman, unsurprised by the leap, redirected Thex's armored form to drive her into an island panel that controlled the inertial dampeners in engineering. When the panel only cracked and didn't shatter, the chooser of the slain raised her spear to plunge it into the back of the Andorian engineer when a phaser beam glanced off her armor, and she turned to face one of the gold-clad security officers.

"Drop your weapon! Do it now!" the Security officer barked.

Thex didn't waste any time and with the speed that she thought with wrapped her legs around that of her Norse opponent and pulled the woman to the floor. Leaping up the andorian grabbed the spear from the woman's grip, and brought the rear of the weapon slamming into the woman's helmet.

Before Thex could do anything another of the Norse warrior women was on her and it took every move that the andorian had in her chimera fighting style of andorian, federation martial arts and Orion dancing moves to dodge and block the warrior women's spear thrusts. That was when a lance of phaser fire took the Norwegian immortal, and dropped her to the deck. All about the compartment, phaser fire could be herad alongside violent battle cries, and crashing equipment.

A gold armored security officer stepped into Thex's line of sight, phaser moving as they secured the perimeter before calling to her. "Lieutenant Commander, are you hurt? Do you need assistance?"

Even as she spoke, the security officer fired again at a target Thex couldn't see from her vantage point.

"No, I'm fine ensign, other than the fact my engineering bay has been invaded by Norse warrior women. Can someone toss me a rifle?" Thex said as one of the security officers threw her a phaser rifle. "Right, boys- lets teach these women not to mess with the Hera!"

"Between our people and your people, ma'am, we seem to be handling it." As the Valyrykor were all working and moving independently, they were committing some havoc. But they didn't know which systems were which in the Starfleet engineering sector, and while they were acting as random agents of chaos, the security teams were coordinating with the engineering crew and pinning the shieldmaidens of Odin down and stunning them into unconsciousness. As another boarding party appeared, half a dozen phaser beams of varying intensities fired, and the intruders dropped as soon as they had fully materialized.

"Schwartzman, L'rrull, start tagging them for transport. We don't know how long they're going to stay down, and we don't know how many more are conning."

Another Valkrie boarding party began materializing beside the warp core, only to be cut down in an efficient display of phaser fire by the two Klingon women stationed there for the sole purpose of guarding the ship's most precious material resource. "I got four to your three, S'rina. You are a slow old woman!"

"It is because you are lazy and use the wide beam setting, which a child could use, V'nis," shot back the other Klingon petty officer, both watching the battle around them through the head's up displays in both their visors as well as theit helmet interiors. Both were recent graduates, as were most of the Security team, and the skills drilled into them in security training were still very fresh in their minds, and it showed.

"Engineering, what's our ETA on more than emergency power?" came a familiar voice from the bridge.

"Give us a minute we have norse warrior women down here." Thex yelled as she and a few of the security personnel blasted another of the Valkyrie into unconscious. "Cover me guys," Thex said as her fingers got to work on the console. The Norse girls had made quite a mess on her systems, but nothing she couldn't work with. Okay, I need to bypass the negative electromagnetic pulse multiplexer to get primary power back online. I can run it through a few systems to get it back online for now, but please tell me we won't be getting into another fight with a Norse gods warship." The andorian said as she got to work.

"They seem to be ignoring us for the moment, but we really need more power for transporters and engines as soon as you can get them to us. And if you can spare it, we could use some shields," replied Enalia from the bridge. Things weren't looking much better up there, but at least they didn't have a dozen Aesir trying to kill them and bash everything in sight.

"Working as fast as we can captain. I can run a few bypasses to get power to the transporters and engines, shield may take a few minutes until my repair teams can fix a few blown power conduits." Replied the andorian as she got to work. This what she did best and it wasn't long before a smile was on her face as power was flowing to the transporters and impulse engines.

"Thex to team three ETA on power to the shields?" She said tapping her combadge. "Three minutes boss, we have to patch the hull breach first." Came the reply.

The battle outside the USS Hera would wage for a bit longer. But in Main Engineering, the security and engineering forces had defended the starship from powerful invaders, with a minimum loss of functionality, and no loss of life. The Hera would fly on to further adventures, and her crew would have one heck of a story to tell.

Enalia settled into her desk chair in her quarters with a cup of tea and began writing her latest mission report. The Aesir had been secret and tenuous allies for some time now, but with all that had happened recently, that seemed to have been strained.

That all had to wait for now though, as she had to register all eight hundred passengers aboard as refugees displaced by the destruction of Deleth Station. It would take a few weeks for Romulan and Federation ships to pick up all the displaced service members and civilians, if not months. On top of that, there was the issue of an investigation to conduct. The Commodore's new ship, the USS Photon was working on that part at least. Unfortunately, the scientists were evacuated by the two small Romulan warbirds so they would have to be tracked down for questioning later.

Sighing heavily, Enalia leaned back in her chair and began composing. "Captain's Report on the Starbase 336 Deleth Station Titan Iapetus incident. We were on another mission, acting as a failsafe for a diplomatic mission when we received the distress call. Computer, insert comm log link 34725. From there, we pushed our engines as hard as they could burn antimatter and made a new record for us. Warp 9.9995. When we arrived, several ships had already been taken out, including an Exeter class Connie refit that we almost ran into and a D'deridex class that was in our immediate vicinity."

"After a quick exchange with the Commodore, insert comm link 34728, we took up a defensive posture so the remaining station defenders could pull back. Once they were able to regroup and gather the wounded, we went on the offense, using tactics designed to deal with deity-class aliens. One of the nice things about having to fight beings in the same class as Odin and his Valkyries is that when they decide to challenge you to a fight... The USS Hera and her crew happen to be ready. Computer, insert combat logs, red alert stamp 9927."

"We were doing well enough, though admittedly on the likely losing end. Shields were at eighteen percent and our hull was starting to take a bit of a beating. Weapons and power were holding out well, though. We were energizing our armor for our next push. Odin's Sleipnir had been disabled, as had three quarters of the Valkyrie ships. That's when Freyja entered the battle with her spear."

"She hit us, deflected ever so slightly, went straight through one of the two Miranda class cruisers, the USS Aldrin, and pierced the outer hull of the station. Our shields and armor were decimated and we had hull breaches on multiple decks. Within moments they had people beaming in, which we were able to initially divert to the brig, but then they used that Bifrost and dropped Valkyries into engineering. It took a little bit, but we were able to get a boarding party onto the station, get engines and main power back online, and somehow... Up until this point the worst injury had been a plasma burn and the loss of some house plants."

"As the boarding party dealt with not only the Aesir attacking the station but also the station defenses trying to keep us out... Seriously, we need to not place fecking cokholsters in charge of our facilities... Someone shows up at your doorstep to HELP wearing armored EV suits, you let them fecking HELP. Ahem... Official recommendation... For future missions... Because my people rescued many of those people that had been spaced due to the boarding action of Freyja which caused massive failure of the station's remaining structural integrity and power grid in the section."

"The Baroness Schwein von Alcott, my family's attendant to me was aboard so volunteered for the mission. She is... Engaged... To the Mighty Thor so this might be seen as a conflict of interests, however I saw it as a possibility of a diplomatic solution. Acting as a forward scout for the away team, she was able to assess the strength and composition of Odin's forces and predict Freyja's entry point. Once they arrived at the final labs, she was also able to engage the entire defending Valkyrie position and engage Freyja directly while the rest of the away team covered her and stunned the dislodged defenders."

"Computer, attach body cam logs of all Starfleet away mission members. I am loathe to attach the Baroness's footage for two reasons. She is a civilian and such footage being logged into record without per express permission is against my better judgement and her body cam footage is from her cybernetic eye. It's not from some chest sensor... It's literally from her actual point of view, which makes the whole experience that much more personal. Because of that... Her duel with Freyja and private discussion about the betrothal with Thor... I would prefer that it be left out of the official records."

"Just suffice it to say that in an amazing display of daring, skill, and strength, she bested the Queen of the Valkyries and of Asgard honorably."

"Which brings me to the final point of this report. Odin said he would destroy Deleth station after collecting the Titan Iapetus. He did not. He used the Bifrost to move it away. From the trajectory, I suspect that it is now in Asgardian space but there is no way to be sure. I just hope that this does not further jeopardize our alliance with him."

"As for our refugees, I'm including a list of everyone we rescued as well as their medical status. I'm listing Doctor Dael as their medical provider for now. Some of them are grumbling about the conditions, but they're alive, which is a far cry from what Odin would have done to them if we hadn't shown up. Out of this whole mission, the USS Hera amazingly did not lose any people. Starbase 336, of the Starfleet personnel... Nineteen station personnel were lost. The entire crews of the USS Hansho, USS Ganalro, USS T'lark, and USS Fredrickson were lost. The USS D'arj had only seventeen survivors. The USS Aldrin had ninety six survivors. On top of that, several Romulan ships were destroyed with all hands lost. Whatever they were researching, I hope they got what they were after, because we paid a heavy price for it."

While standing by near a system deep in peace talks that are expected to go very poorly and end in missile attacks between two worlds near the Romulan neutral zone, the USS Hera gets a distress call from Commodore Meowlith and the USS Photon that is quickly cut off about an attack on Starbase 336 by the Asgardians. With no other choice but to head out, the crew strap in, mount up, and prepare to fight some Valkyries.

Three Stage Plan
-------------------
Stage 1
--------
Hera warps in system to find Odin leading a bunch of Valkyries in an attack against various Romulan and Federation defense forces trying to get into Starbase 336. He's really pissed off about something, but everyone is clamming up about what. Que space battle defending the station, which inevitably fails when Freyja turns up at the scene and blasts through the station's defenses with a giant spear.

- Defense forces include refit Walker class USS Photon with Commodore Meowlith, refit T'varo light warbird with Commander Cho'ren Vara, Mogai heavy warbird, and two refit Miranda class light cruisers
- Attacking force is 150 Valkyries in 16 meter Chariot fighters, Odin in a 112 meter Sleipnir cruiser, and Freyja in a Chariot fighter with a holo-cloak that makes it look like an old style chariot pulled by cats

Stage 2
--------
Boarding parties have to fight their way through the station past Valkyries and towards the secret that lies at the central chambers of the station. Eventually they make it there at the same time Freyja and Odin are smashing through the final defenses and while the rest of the party tries to calm Odin down, Schwein takes on Freyja on her own. This final battle takes place on a catwalk over a pit that houses the slumbering body of the Titan Iapetus.

- Station is a hybrid Federation-Romulan design, promoting green and gold with splashes of taupe and white to break things up. Panels use standard Federation designs over most of the station but with Romulan stylings in the LCARS.
- Station is a central hub with an outer ring design, connected by five arms. Central area is research and command and is heavily shielded and covered by transport inhibitors that even the Bifrost can't pierce.

Stage 3
--------
It is revealed that it is the slumbering Titan Iapetus that Odin is after and that a combined Tal Shiar/ Intel Command research team has been working on the being trying to unlock his secrets of not only craftsmanship, but Mortality so that they may be able to create immortals and kill deity-class beings with relative ease. The Allfather's queries into this matter had been met with bureaucratic nonsense, lies, and deceit, and decided to use more aggressive negotiating tactics. This is where the honest diplomats come into play and the truly Trek solutions try to redeem all parties.

- Romulan Station Commander - Riov Dalia Rendal https://deleth.split-world.com/index.php/personnel/character/1
- Federation Station Commander - Commander Reginald Pierce

-----------------------

Az: And here's the outline as it stands!

Az: With the current backlog nearly posted and phases 1 and 2 nearly written, we'll be starting to write phase 3 shortly, which brings us to the character development part of the mission. We'll spend a little time at Starbase 336 for repairs and to help out with the locals and to get Iapetus into Asgardian custody, then we'll be playing hooky for a bit at DS9 to properly resupply and write some proper character development, including meeting up with Baroness Sarika about the upcoming Tribunal and going around asking a few key crewmembers if they'll join in the fight (Thex ^_^).

According to the old earth calendar, which was what Rita Paris preferred to use over the stardate time measurement (which just confused her), today was the ancient astronaut’s birthday. She hadn’t realized it until she had returned to her quarters after her duties of the day, and saw the old-fashioned digital calendar she maintained on the side of one of her kitchenette cabinets. There the date was laid out in bold bas relief- February 13th, 2296.

Today was her 163rd birthday… or her 33rd, biologically speaking... give or take.

Growing up in a Starfleet home where her father was a political schemer and gladhandler, her birthday party had always been quite an affair… just not one about her. Commander Clifford Paris would invite the brass, upwardly mobile movers and shakers and their families to the Paris family home in Nob Hill, and while the menfolk headed off to his expansive den slash library to smoke cigars and drink good scotch, the wives were expected to keep the party going and entertain the children, as the enlisted men catered the affair and upwardly mobile cadets manned the server positions.

The Fleet shipped out in March, the Academy graduated in May and Rita’s late winter birthday was perfectly timed to enable Clifford Paris to do his schmoozing and political maneuvering to affect the fate of Starfleet for another year, and every year he took full advantage of it. Once her mother was gone, Rita quickly learned that her birthday was very much not the point of the party, and that she could expect a gift chosen by her father’s aide de camp of the moment, and a card signed by the same, assuming he remembered, which more than once he did not. But there would most definitely be a gathering of other fleet brats whose parents were gathered for the event for the same reason as her own father.

Most of those fleet kids were not friends to her, although some became friends after a few years of seeing them semi-regularly at a child’s party that was not at all for children.

When she had thrown a fit on her 9th birthday because she wanted her father to pay attention to her on the day she understood was supposed to be her special day, it had not gone well for her. The career Starfleet officer had emerged from his den to scold her and send her to her room, which was where she spent the rest of the party. No one had come to check on her, no one had come to see her, and she had cried herself to sleep that night as she realized how little her own family cared for her. Banished from her own birthday party, it had settled in to her that it was not a celebration, a special day as so many others viewed it. Not for her. Instead, it was just another excuse for her father to use his daughter to further his own career.

Unsurprisingly, this colored how she viewed birthdays from that moment forward.

As an adult, she had simply stopped mentioning it to people. If anyone asked she’d tell them, but then they would just scold her for not making them aware of it and prompting them to celebrate with her. Which seemed selfish to her, and just compounded her misgivings about the entire tradition. Which flowed directly into Valentine’s Day, which was another holiday of which she was not overly fond. After all, when she was barely a teenager her father had started directing suitors her way, and many of them made quite the show of trying to woo her as she grew up. Even into her twenties as they were advised by her father to produce grand gestures designed to sweep her off her feet, which were wholly unwelcome, as Rita had her own ideas of what she was looking for in a suitor.

As she got older, the fact that she’d been born the day before Valentine’s Day just seemed to confirm that the universe had one hell of a sense of humor about her. It seemed she was destined not to find love in her lifetime, so it was just plain mocking to her. When she had spent a five year mission as a ghost, she had watched couples fall in and out of love, and while she yearned to be able to touch or feel someone, anyone, it just made her loneliness that much more acute.

When she had met Sonak, all of that had changed, of course. But Vulcans didn’t celebrate the date of their birth as a significant personal holiday, so she had never particularly brought it up. Given the negative connotations she had associated with the day over the years, she had just left it behind, as she had so many things, and forgotten about it.

Today, in the here and now, she stared at the calendar, and it took her a moment to realize just what birthday this was for her. According to Doctor Dael, she was in her early thirties, so today would count, if she had done the math correctly, as her 33rd birthday. Chronologically speaking, as of today she was officially 163 years old. Which somehow brought a tear to her eye.

Through her adventures, she had outlived everyone and everything she had ever known, save for Sonak and Starfleet, the two most important relationships in her life. A human being was not supposed to live that long, and she hadn’t, yet in a way she had. Everything was different, here in the future, and she continued to adapt. But that fact of the number of years her life had spanned somehow struck her. 33 years old was not even a quarter of her projected lifespan, so she was still a very young woman, barely more than a girl. Yet she felt her age, with the science she did not understand, the technology that was often so beyond her which she struggled to adapt to every day, and the exotic races that now comprised the majority of Starfleet, of which she was mostly ignorant.

As of today, she felt the disconnect that the elderly so often feel. Out of touch with modern times, left behind by ever-advancing technology, confused by a galaxy far more complex than the one they grew up in, and somehow intimidated by a universe that no longer needed them. It was silly for her to feel this way, she knew- after all, she definitely served a purpose on the USS Hera, acting as mentor, guide and sometimes conscience to the Starfleet of the future in which she now served. But that did not ease the feeling that she was somehow very, very old as of today. A walking fossil, a museum display come to life, an antiquity that somehow still moved about in the modern world, seeking answers to questions most took for granted.

“Happy birthday to you, Rita. A hundred and sixty-three years since you were born, and here you are, all alone on your birthday.” Staring at the calendar, she sighed and shook her head. She wasn’t alone… she was never alone. Sonak would oblige her with some time if she asked. She had friends amongst the senior officers with whom she could spend time if she chose. Even the captain would spend time with her, and likely any or all of them would even celebrate her birthday with her if she asked.

Chin up, chest out eyes clear, Rita strode out of her quarters, headed to 10-Forward. It was her birthday, so she would celebrate it as she saw fit. With a slice of red velvet cake with butter cream frosting, her favorite, with a candle in it she could blow out and make a wish upon. What she would wish for, she did not know. After all, she kind of had it all- her health, a good posting, friends and a loving and supportive man by her side.

But like the rest of her very long life, she’d figure it out as she went along.

The mission to Starbase 336 had been an intense one, and once again Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox found herself assigned to the Away team rather than manning the helm of the U.S.S. Hera. On the base, she and the others found themselves in a pitched battle against literal Valkyrie.

Essentially immortal goddess-women of superhuman strength and skill stood against them, but somehow the Away Team had succeeded in its mission without casualties. It was, however, not a victory without injury.

The hour was late, but the Hera was still frantically busy as engineering crews worked around the clock to repair the damage accrued in the battle against Odin's flagship. But for tonight, Dox's duties were complete and she was heading back to her quarters from sickbay to change and then check in with Mona Gonadie.

Over the last few weeks, an attraction between the part-Romulan Pilot and her Miradonian office partner had become something far more as the two were now in a strong relationship. But Dox didn't want Mona to see her as she was right then.

Walking back to her quarters, Dox had just been in sickbay having a rather extensive gash in her right shoulder properly attended to by the ships CMO, Asa Dael. On the Starbase, a Valkyrie got too close with her spear leaving the red-headed Romulan injured. Her uniform top was torn over the bandaged shoulder and a good degree of the right side of her top was still stained with her own green blood, that had dried a crusty brown.

So Dox decided that a shower and a change of clothes would be required before she would go to see Mona. But as the door to her quarters wooshed open, Dox immediately noticed the lights were already on and she winced in anticipation. Only two people had access to these quarters, Doctor Dael who Dox just left in sickbay, and her newfound love. "Uh... Mona?"

"I'm in the bedroom!" Mona had gotten off helm duty not long ago and after seeing to some minor repairs on the flight deck, had headed straight to Dox's quarters to see if she had gotten back yet. As she hadn't, Mona decided to start replacing the regulation bedding with more... Colorful... Variants... Based on her own plumage colors. The ship's power was taxed as it was, but she considered it a priority.

Stepping into the main room, Mona saw the dried blood on her love's uniform and panic hit her. "Oh my goodness, are you ok? Have you been to sickbay? Do you need to sit down? Do you need some soup?"

Trying to smile to assuage Mona's concerns, Dox fidgeted in place. "It's okay. I'm okay. It... It looks worse then it is. I was... I was hoping to change. I didn't want you to see this."

"Well, I've seen it and you're hurt." Mona quickly started pulling Dox's uniform top off and inspecting the wound to make sure her love really was alright like she said she was. Once she was satisfied, she slumped against Dox in relief. "You really are ok... Aren't you?"

"I'm okay. I promise." Dox wrapped her arms around Mona. "It's just a little sore and I shouldn't lay on this side for a few nights. But we've got the best Doctor in the galaxy. Asa keeps putting me back together."

Then she softly kissed Mona's forehead. "But you hold me together."

"And you fulfill me." Mona started making soft cooing sounds as she rested there in her love's arms. "I hope you don't mind, but I replaced your bedding."

Still holding Mona, Dox continued. "I'm sorry if I worried you, I..." Then her brain caught up with Mona's words. "Wait, what did you do?"

The tone was surprised but positive as she looked up over Mona towards the bedroom door. "You replaced the bedding?"

"You were still using the generic sheets and blankets so I replaced them with something that I hoped would remind you of me." Mona pulled back slightly so she could look Dox in the eyes. "I hope that's ok."

"Uh... yeah... I mean... I guess I never really gave them much thought." For her part, Dox was slightly confused but the warmth in Mona's eyes was enough for her to want to see what had been done just because it was important to her. "So, show me." She said with a smile.

Without a need for further prompting, Mona led her into the bedroom by the hand to show her the brightly colored comforter, pillowcase, and sheets set that she was in the middle of putting on the bed. The colors were based on the same colorations that were in her plumage in a radial pattern. "So... What do you think? I was thinking of adding some green and yellow curtains as well."

The smile on Mnhei'sahe's face broadened. "Oh, Mona. It's... It's your colors." Bedding was something the young woman had never considered until now, but as she looked at Mona to see her anticipation, her heart warmed. She ran her hand over the soft materials. "I love it. Thank you."

"So, curtains too? How many plans do you have stewing up there?" Mnhei'sahe playfully pointed at Mona's head with a smirk.

"Well... A few..." That was when the transport delivery service chose to deliver the life-size Mona body pillow to the bed. Mona could only grin wider. "Quite a few..."

Crossing her arms, Dox put a hand up over her mouth as her smirk turned into an embarrassed chuckle. "Oh my goodness." She picked up the pillow with an awkward half grin as she slipped into her native Rihan. "Hwiiy arham nohtho jhu dhael."

Looking back at Mona, she smiled and repeated the phrase in Terran English. "You are my crazy, Angel Bird."

Looking at the bizarre but adorable pillow, Dox tilted her head. "Well, it won't even come close to filling the need for you, but I love it. But I can't hug it until I have seriously showered."

Placing the pillow back down, Dox casually began unhooking her bra as she spoke. "Seriously. When I was still cut, I bled straight down my side in that EVA suit. It got in my right boot. I was trying to look all badass and every time I step it's 'squish, squish'." She chuckled slightly as she relayed the event.

"Oh my goodness... Let me help you." Mona helped undress Mnhei'sahe on the way to the restroom and made sure there weren't any stains on the carpet or flooring anywhere as she tucked her love into the shower before poking everything into the uniform recycler. She then quickly shed all her own clothing and hopped into the shower as well. "What? I want to make sure you get everything clean."

On the flight deck of the main shuttle Bay of the U.S.S. Hera, Flight Chief and Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was working late. She liked to work late when her mind was busy, and tonight it was busy waiting for Ensign Mona Gonadie's shift at helm to end.

Over the last few weeks, the two pilots had become quite close and when they weren't together, it caused the red-headed Romulan to stew in her own thoughts. And since Mnhei'sahe Dox didn't enjoy the company of her own thoughts more often than not, she worked. And tonight she was working on the aft port landing strut of the Runabout Selune.

The skilled pilot was by no means an engineer, but she had enough experience repairing the various systems of the smuggling ship she grew up on that she was more than qualified to repair a landing strut that gave off a warning light during the Selune's last system diagnostic.

As the Flight Control Chief, it wasn't her job to actually be laying on her back with a tool kit under the Runabout herself wearing a workshirt stained with hydrolic fluid, but she liked to keep busy. While she worked, her keen Romulan ears picked up the sound of light foot steps heading towards her. She knew it was too early for it to be Mona, so she slid out from the Runabout. She looked up to see the Hera's Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi.

"Good evening, Commander. What can I do for you?" Dox asked with a casual smile.

" Hello, lieutenant Dox. Just going about my rounds to make sure we haven't missed anything that broke in are scrap with the Valkyries. One of them's the strut you appear to be working on." The androrian said with a smile.

Pulling herself off the deck and back to her feet, Dox had a slightly awkward expression. "Ah... yeah. I was off duty and had the time, and your crews have been putting in enough overtime, so I figured I'd work on it."

"Well do you want me to see what you've done and i can take over from there?" The andorian asked.

Stepping aside, Dox felt that anxiety in the pit of her stomach start swirling. "Absolutely, Commander. I haven't done much except try and diagnose the problem just yet."

"Well let's take a look." Thex said as she slid under the runabout. " Ah, I see. Dox have you been attempting to fix the problem yourself?" She asked.

Fidgeting slightly in place, Dox replied. "I suppose... I like to try and solve problems when I can."

"I appreciate the effort Dox, but you don't need to do these emergency patches when you have my team free to fix them." The andorian said as she got to work. To properly fix the problem she'd have to undo Dox rewiring first.

Stifling a sigh, Dox rolled her eyes slightly as she knew this was coming. Her grease-monkey tendencies and desire to fix things herself had caused friction between herself and engineers on her last assignment as a shuttle pilot for Starbase 17.

There was a world of difference between her rewiring the Hera's helm console in the heat of a pitched battle to keep the ship flying when engineering crews were otherwise occupied, and mucking around like this when it wasn't necessary. But those were semantics and ultimately this was Thex's job and Dox didn't want to alienate a friend.

"Aye, Commander. Sorry. Old habits die hard, I suppose. Extenuating circumstances notwithstanding, I'll leave engineering to the engineers. Promise." The anxious aviatrix replied with a slightly forced bit of levity to her voice, hoping to diffuse any potential tension.

"It's okay Dox you don't have to apologize. Just tell me if you made any temporary repairs before i get started on them okay?" The andorian asked calmly as she continued her work.

"Absolutely, Commander. I'll make full reports. Is... there anything I can get you?" Dox replied.

" Well, you can tell me how things are going between you and Mona?" The andorian said as she slid out from under the runabout to swap her tools.

"So much for our trying to be subtle about it." Dox replied with a chuckle, slightly embarrassed. "Or at least my trying to be subtle. It's... It's going well. Things are going really well. Fast, but good. I mean...I guess things are going good. I'm... I don't really have an experience with... ya' know... relationships."

" Well I'm happy for you Dox and I'm glad things are going well. You deserve to be happy." The andorian replied with a grin on her face.

"We're trying, at least. Thanks." Dox replied as she tried to bring the subject back off of her love life. "How's it looking down there?"

" Easy enough to fix though I'll need a few spare parts. Could you replicate a pressure module and a replacement fluid canister?" the andorian asked.

"Absolutely. Be right back." Happy to have a task, Dox requisitioned the parts on her PaDD to pick up from her office replicator just across the bay. After a few moments, Dox returned and handed Thex the parts.

"So, of you don't mind my asking, how have things been with you and Ensign Tathaa? You two seem so happy whenever I see you together."

" Well other than a few complaints about the dresses for the upcoming bonding ceremony everything's going great. I finally realize what all the andorian poets were talking about in all the great epics about love. If we could only find the other two we need we could think about having some little andorians." The andorian said with a grin spread across her face.

The young part-Romulan was now just smiling, unguarded, for her friend. "That's fantastic. I'm really happy for you. It's weird, but on a ship where a Goddess and Death have cabins, I found that easier to believe then I did in the idea that someone might ever... love me. But it's pretty amazing. I'm so glad it's working out for you and I'm sure you two will figure out the rest. What's the problem with the dress?

"Well, thats part of the problem. You know anear's are blind and see telepathically? Well, when your species doesn't see as the rest of us do most of there ceremonies don't really focus on clothing. In fact there bonding ceramonies have it that the quad doesn't wear anything so as to how they have nothing to hide from their mates " The andorian said with a grin on her face hoping the flight officer would understand what she was meaning.

"Ahhh. I got it." Dox was slightly embarrassed thinking about it, but countered. "Of course, if you two were Betazoid, you'd both be... actually... ALL of us would be naked. But wouldn't she see the dress through your eyes. See how beautiful you saw her as? That might make it more important for her from that angle to embrace the dress."

"Which was the same argument I used so we've been picking out andorian bonding dresses. Never knew there would be so many." The andorian responded the grin still on her face.

"Well, that's a good problem to have. I'm sure you'll both look absolutely amazing." Dox replied with a smile. "I can't wait."

"I hope we do. I can't wait for it or to share that day with the crew. You guys are more family than my own family was." Thex said with a beaming smile.

"I think that's true for a lot of us. Certainly for me. I think the Captain must've been searching for officers with the most messed up family histories in Starfleet." Dox replied with a laugh.

"Well if she is she must be doing something right. Never met a crew that could have death and the goddess Hera on board and can go toe to toe with the master and the armies of odin." Came Thex voice from under the runabout.

"It sure beats every other assignment I've ever had by a galaxy" Dox replied with a smile And a she thought. "Ya'know, Death was the one to suggest I talk to Mona. Never would have predicted that."

Thex was confused at what she had just heard and had to slid out from underneath the runabout. " So Death acted as your matchmaker? " She asked.

"Uh... actually... yeah. Weird as that sounds. Only me, Doctor Dael, the EMH and the Baroness can see her. And the replicator doesn't quite acknowledge her either, so I bring her dinner and we talk. She's really nice, but super straightforward." Dox chucked as she realized just how ridiculous this all probably sounded. "She knew all about how I felt about Mona and just kept pressing me to do something until I gave in. She was kind of relentless."

"Why can only you three see her? All of us can see Hera." Thex inquired.

"Well, Asa and the Baroness met her when she was manifested on the worldship. So they were already aware of her. Then when the Baroness was temporarily bonded to her, I was concerned and... well... I asked to be introduced." Dox was a little nervous retelling the tale. "Otherwise, she is Death. People don't see her until... well... Until it's their time. But she's actually really nice. She's kind of why I'm not dead. From back when I got beamed into space. She... she chose to not take me as I was out there about ten seconds too long."

" I thought there were some odd readings when i beamed you back onboard. " Thex said as she continued her work. " Never thought death would be a woman. On Andor death is represented by a monster that lives in an unending blizzard that comes to drag you away when it's your time."

"Then that might well be what you would see." Dox replied. Her tone a little more serious. "How she appears to each person depends on how they perceive death as a concept. I spent a lifetime becoming comfortable with the idea of dying. To me, she's an older Romulan woman. Kind of beautiful really. Rita, however. Rita can't see her at all even after being introduced."

" Interesting. Well, can you let her know if she needs anything she has to ask?" The andorian statted as she slid out from under the ship. " Okay can you give it a test, becouse i think it should be working now."

"I will, thanks." Dox replied as she hopped up into the Runabout and began running a quick diagnostic. After a few seconds, the young Romulan red-head called out. "Green on the diagnostic. Running a test retract."

A slight forcefield stableized the Runabout as the strut quickly retracted and then deployed back into place. After. Moment, Dox came back out onto the flight deck. "Excellent. Thank you, Commander."

"No problem Dox. Was nice talking to you by the way. Got to get cleaned up and then i have a dance session of the Hera's fly girls to organize." The andorian said as she finished packing up her tools.

"Sounds like a fun night. And I promise to not tinker anymore." Dox replied with a crooked half grin.

"If you do tinker let me know. " The andorian said as she headed for the door giving the flight officer a warm smile. " Talk to you later Dox."

Service and Specifications Manual For Cybernetic Enhancements (Samuel Langhorne Clemens XXVI)

CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET. PROTOCOL: SFI SPECIAL PROJECTS


Cybernetic Systems Installed


? (4) Thorium Microfusion Generators, capable of providing a steady output of 250 millicochranes per unit until depleted. *

? (1) Phase-Encoded Energy Distribution System, which allows for energy transport within and between the cybernetic and power systems. This effectively functions as a circulatory system for the various non-biological organs.

? (1) Cybernetic bio-mimicing leg, capable of propelling the user at speeds upward of 650 kph, depending upon the terrain, and producing direct force (via kicking, pressing, or leveraging) of over 90000 PSI over the contact area of the limb (depending upon the angle of incidence). It features enhanced reflexes to match the speed of movement possible. The leg is equipped with storage compartments, and the sole of the foot is equipped with an embedded gravitic generator of the sort that is used in Starfleet regulation Gravity Boots to assure firm footing in uncertain times. The opposite foot also has an implanted generator, for matched footing.

? (1) Cybernetic bio-mimicing arm, capable of similar PSI in its grip strength, torque, and speed to the cybernetic leg. It, too, has storage compartments, but also features a reel of duranium nano-fiber line, with a variable-intensity gravitic emitter attached. A recessed, high-velocity deployment mechanism is included. As with the foot, the palm of the hand includes an embedded gravitic generator. The opposite hand also has an implanted generator, for matched footing. The fingertips have hidden tools, including, but not limited to (as they’re interchangeable): a medical-grade protoplaser, a high speed rotary tool, a phaser micro-cutter (which doubles as a signaling device), a mechanical powered lockpick, a vacuum pump (with attachments), a liquid sprayer, a mono-whip, a charging port for external devices, a data jack with multiple common interfaces, a high-intensity flashlight.

? (multiple) Bio-enhancement improvements on the remaining arm and leg, to raise their performance and durability for load-balancing the opposite limbs.

? (multiple) Internal cross-body tesserine polymer reinforcements to reduce stress from combined limb usage.

? (multiple) Structural Integrity Field Projectors, for protection from extreme speeds and movement, body-wide, as well as extensible to objects in contact with the user. These have both manual and automated controls available.

? (multiple) Force-field Projectors, to create a field identical to the Starfleet Issue Force Field Belts circa the late-2260s through early-2270s. This field is extensible to objects in contact with the user. These have both manual and automated controls available.

? (multiple) High-density power storage bank system, evenly-distributed, for emergency use, in the event of loss of main power. Provides enough power for normal usage for 24 hours, for rationed usage for 72 hours, and for heavy-duty usage for 6 hours.

? (1) Holo-projector capable of creating visual projections, if need be.

? (1) Full Starfleet Issue Communications suite, including subspace radio and space-normal radio frequencies.

? (1) Full Starfleet Issue Active and Passive Sensor Suite.

? (2) Ocular Interface Implants, for internalized display and interface of data.

? (2) Cochlear Implants, for internalized playback of audio streams.

? (1) Subvocal Implant, for internalized voice communications.



* The operational lifespan of each unit is estimated at approximately 200 years. These units have an ambient energy collection system which restores power in the crystalline core of these units at a maximum of 50 millicochranes per day, based on maximum external energy density. The units feature charge ports for faster refueling if an external source is available. Thorium fusion units feature a sealed containment system which is filled with a slurry of liquified thorium. As energy density is increased in the thorium, it begins to condense into more and more tightly-wound strands of crystalline thorium, trapping the imparted energy in the core, which can then be expended as needed- in effect, a crystalline clockwork mechanism that is wound by capturing energy directed at the unit.

Aboard the U.S.S. Hera, there were only four sentients that could perceive the entity known as Death. Doctor Asa Dael, the Baroness Schwein von Alcott, the ships Emergency Medical Hologram, and Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox.

Of the four, only Dox had asked for the privilege. And in knowing Death, the young part-Romulan pilot had become quite close. It was a bizarre friendship to be sure, but one Dox felt committed to. As the ship's technology didn't quite react properly to Deaths uncanny touch, the red-headed officer had taken it upon herself to stop by Death's guarded VIP Quarters regularly to provide both food and hopefully welcome company.

But tonight, Dox brought more than food. As she approached the quarters, she carried a covered tray in her arms. At her side, was Asa Dael, who carried an envelope tucked under one arm. Outside the door were two gold clad security officers. They were two of the women recruited during the Hera's recent shore leave in the Sol System and Dox gave them a respectful nod as she and the Doctor approached.

The two officers were expected and the security personnel stepped slightly aside as Dox addressed the ship's computer. "Computer, unseal hatch of VIP quarters number 14. Authorization Dox, M. Lieutenant. Access code 795-X9E."

With a chirp, the computer replied. =^=What was your first Assignment in Starfleet?=^=

Rolling her eyes slightly, Dox replied. "Waste reclamation vessel pilot. Starbase 634-B."

Then Dox turned to the young, El Aurian Doctor at her side. "Your turn, Doctor."

"Computer, please allow entry for me also, authorization Dael, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Access Code 314159."

The computer responded in a typical cheery tone, =^= What are you allergic to?=^=

With a slight blush for the absurdity of the answer, Asa responded, "Dandelions and bergamot."

With a woosh, the doors opened and the two young officers stepped in. Dox called out to announce their presence. "Good evening. It's Mnhei'sahe and Asa and we come bearing food."

The pale woman that was the embodiment of Death got up from where she was sitting and greeted the pair. "Hey! it's good to see both of you. So what are we having today? I smell something delicious."

Walking over to the mid-sized dining table, Dox placed the tray down with a light smile. "Well, I took a little initiative and had the officers mess put something together that I hope you'll like." She pulled the dome off the top of the tray and a wisp of steam swirled into the air. "It's... uh... Sharkfin Ramen. I hope you like it. All things considered, Japanese fare seemed to be a safe bet."

With a slightly embarrassed expression, Asa placed their tray on a nearby table, "I, um, went less......refined. Hope you like nachos?"

The pale woman clapped her hands together and smiled pleasantly as she took in the sight and smells. "I can't think of two better foods or two better people to eat them with." Slipping into one of the seats at the table, she picked up the chopsticks and motioned for them to also be seated before digging into the ramen first and making soft cooing sounds.

Smiling, Dox sat, happy that the selections were going over well and let Death enjoy for a few moments. "How have you been? I know I've been a little busy of late and haven't been in as often as I should to check." Dox commented, referring to her recent dates with Ensign Gonadie that Death had actually been instrumental in prodding the anxious pilot in pursuing.

"I've been well. I can do my job from essentially anywhere so having somewhere to actually stay is nice for once." She barely paused in her eating as she chowed down, reaching out for a nacho or two with her chopsticks as she munched on the ramen. "How are the two of you doing?"

Never being overtly comfortable talking about herself, Dox turned to Asa as if to indicate they could answer first. Plus, the anxious pilot didn't want to jump immediately into the contents of that envelope Asa had been carrying just yet. "I've been good. Keeping busy with work and stuff. Asa?"

"I'm, coping I guess is the right word. I was kidnapped briefly, you probably remember, and I had a hard time recovering at first. But Mnhei'sahe and Rita and everyone have been so supportive. I started counseling and its going ok. I can sleep again most nights, I understand a very dangerous man is no longer at large, so it all works out in the end. Some...discomfort....on my part is a small price to pay for that. "

The look on Asa's face rapidly cycled between fear, determination, warmth, and hopefulness, and the young physician has unconsciously twisted their clasped hands in their lap. Shaking their head slightly to dismiss errant dark thoughts, Asa looked up with their customary grin. "But hey, we youngsters are notorious for never sleeping, right?"

Putting her own hand over top of Asa's, Dox smiled over at their friend. "Door's always open. You've got this and we've got you."

After smiling and squeezing Dox's hand in thanks Asa said, "Got you too, Min. So, how bored are you in here though, Death. Sitting still in even one dimension would drive me nuts, and you are in what, three?"

"Thirteen," the pale woman replied casually. "But it's easier to sit still here and now. I just keep watch over the rest of the universe subconsciously. When you came in I was... Ah... Nevermind..." Sheepishly, she lifted her ramen bowl and finished off her broth.

Setting aside the bowl, she pulled the rest of the nachos in front of her and eyed the other two. "So you two seem to have something planned. Should I be suspicious?"

Scrunching her face awkwardly, Dox rubbed her at nervously. "Well... I was... It's been in the back of my mind since we talked the other day about how you can't remember what your name used to be. And... I don't know if it's just because of me only recently learning my own given name... but it really kinda bothered me. It didn't seem... right."

As Dox spoke, she got less anxious. "So... I remembered everything you told me and I asked Asa for help trying to see what we could find out from Earth records." Dox gestured to Asa to pull out the envelopes he brought in.

Placing the folder on the table, Asa looked Death in the eyes and said softly, "There are some answers here....if you want them. And you don't have to face them alone. Whoever you were, just know you chose who you are now. And I think who you are now is pretty great. Just maybe don't tell Starfleet Medical that I think Death is neat, ok? Might be seen as a conflict on interest."

The last was said with a lightning fast wink to convey Asa honestly didn't give two figs what the brass might think, not so long as their friend knew she was loved.

Adding, Dox commented. "We just wanted you to have the option to know. There were details records on Earth from the year 740. The year of the Fujiwara no Hirotsugu Rebellion, you told me about. We cross-referenced family names that were affected by the Small Pox epidemic."

The Dox's tone shifted slightly, to a slightly more serious one. "There were 27 names of men implicated in the Rebellion with wives who fit the criteria. 26 of those wives were executed by the government for their husband's involvement."

Placing her hand on the table, Dox continued. "One woman was listed as having escaped that purge. And there were no records we could find for that woman afterwards, as if she simply vanished."

"I see..." Death said before slowly crunching into a few nachos, her eyes wide. Chewing slowly, she thought it over as she looked between her two guests. "So... You think this missing woman is me? And you have her name?"

"There was no way to be sure, of course." Dox looked back at her. He expression was calm and caring. "I already know who you are and I like her. But... this might be who you once were. And we just wanted you to have that option. The name... and..."

Turning to Asa, Dox continued. "And a photograph."

Drawing a photo from the folder, Asa slid it face down across the table. "Since we figured the EMH saw you as you are, he granted us access to his sensors and I printed out what he saw. If this is you, you are very beautiful."

The pale woman reached out and slid the photo towards herself. "You're not out for my job, are you? Because you're both spending a lot of time worrying about my past when you barely know your own histories." After eyeing the both of them for a moment, she lifted the photo and glanced at it before putting it back on the table face down. "And the name. I can read it all over the both of you. Masato Rei."

Feeling a bit awkwardly now, Dox sat back a little bit in her chair, nervously. "What? No." The detail of how Death had become death by killing her predecessor was not something she had told Asa.

"I was just... I worry. I worry about Asa and I worry about Rita and Schwein and the Captain. And I was worried about you." Dox's words were melancholy and her tone was sad. "I'm... I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds."

"It's not that. You got it right." Death spoke softly like a whispered wind. "For literal ages I've been careful not to get caught... Not to leave traces... And now my first two actual friends as Death, you remind me of who I was in life... I don't know how to take it..." Reaching out, she slowly stuffed a few more nachos into her mouth and slowly chewed.

Looking slightly confused, Dox leaned back over as she thought for a second. "Everything we found out... It came from what information you told me. You gave me pretty big traces, actually. Does me knowing this put you in danger?"

"I don't know. I've never trusted anyone before." Peeling her eyes off of her two friends, she moved them back to the photo as she picked it back up and looked at it again. "So this is who I was..."

"That's how the EMH sees you. The kimono is correct for the period." Dox replied, nervously, worried that her and Asa's efforts might be doing more harm than good.

"Thank you," replied the pale woman somewhat vacantly. After sixteen hundred years she had forgotten what she looked like and what her name had been. Now there were two mortals to carry those memories with them and as long as they did, so could she. "I suppose I owe you both for this. Is there anything you'd like from me? Something I can answer or provide?"

"You already saved my life and gave me pretty solid dating advice. I think we're good." Dox smiled, relaxing a little bit more. "Besides... for me, friendship isn't quid pro quo. It just felt like something we needed to do."

In truth, Dox had many questions she knew the woman once known as 'Masato Rei.' could likely answer. But they were questions she also wasn't sure she wanted the answers to just get. So instead, she turned to Asa to let them respond.

“Friends don’t do things for one another with an expectation of a kindness in return. Please know I will always do for you whatever I can. I have a question I am curious about, but even if you know, you are under no obligation to answer, ok? Were my people more telepathic at one point? The gift Hera gave me keeps….growing, sometimes in strange ways, and I just wish I knew the history of it. Rumors have always been that El-Aurians used to be more than we are now, but they are only that…..rumors. I was able to use these whatever-they-are abilities to help keep Clemens whole. I can’t help but wonder how many others could be helped…..”

Asa was twisting their hands slightly, a bit afraid of the answer, and a bit ashamed of the question. The doctor was always happy being plain-jane-no-psionic-abilities before, but after the bast from Hera, they couldn’t help but think of the possibilities for healing.

"Well, yes... Your people were counted among the demi-gods at one point." The pale woman set aside the picture for now and reached up to scrawl a sigil into the air, leaving a darkly glowing mark that would resonate with any El Aurian. "Your people watched over time and fate and kept many higher beings honest as well as provided favors. When such beings fell from grace, your people found another way to live."

For a moment it was all Asa could do to keep their jaw from touching the carpet. The sigil, while never seen before, sent a shiver down their spine.

Sitting next to Asa, Dox's jaw was agape with surprise at the revelation.

“What…what is that?” they inquired, “It feels like something I should know but can’t recall…like when you forget how to spell a really common word, or a word that just won’t get past the tip of tongue….Well hells bells, Azrael, that is a lot to think on. Certainly explains why I bonded easily with Hera and yourself though…that feeling of kinship and otherness…..maybe it’s not just because I’m an incurable weirdo. Although that fact remains a constant.” Asa concluded with a crooked smile.

Turning to look at Asa, Dox's expression turned from one of surprise as a deep laugh at her friend's self-effacing joke as she smiled broadly. "And you doubted why Virildi liked you? You are an incurable weirdo."

"This sigil is a symbol of one of the building blocks of reality that binds my people to yours." With a wave of her hand, Death erased it from the air as if it was never there. "One of the building blocks beyond string theory and quarks and quasars. Once you understand them, you can take a Q and turn their powers back in on themselves. That's the power your people used to wield, and responsibly, I might add."

Asa tilted their head to the left, considering Death’s words.

“Well, that certainly would explain some of the legends around Guinan. Don’t suppose my forbearers left an instruction manual or anything useful lying around?”

Death got up out of her seat and whistled. It was an eerie sound, like too many winds passing through a skull in a grave. The effect was immediate though, as a ghostly white horse seemed to gallop out of the far wall and into the middle of the room, sunken black pits for eyes and faded stumps that didn't touch the deck for hooves. The pale woman just walked up to the horse and pet its mane like an old friend. "There there... I know I've been a while. Everything is ok though."

Reaching into the saddlebags, she rummaged around a bit before pulling out an antique and massive tome almost the size of her torso. Carrying it back to the table, she set it down as gently as she could before returning to her horse. "I'll be a while longer, ok? Don't worry." With an ethereal neigh and a nod, the horse turned and trotted back off into nothingness. Death then returned to the table and slipped back into her chair. "It's almost a million years old... But it might be useful."

If Asa had been shocked before, the vision of the Pale Horse had the young El-Aurian positively floored.

“I….I don’t know what to say, thank you. I will treasure this always,” Asa finally said, reverently running their hands along the cover of the book.

"You're very welcome." The pale woman then turned to Mnhei'sahe. "And nothing for you? No hints at your family heritage? The truths that your parents keep hidden behind layers of lies like blankets wrapped around them for safety?"

"I already know what my father had done to me as..." Dox has simply started speaking as her brain caught up with what Death had actually said. The specific words began bouncing in her head as she paused. The specific words 'your parents'. Not, 'your mother'.

She thought of the vague memories of the Romulan man talking to her fondly as a child. The man she later learned from the Baroness von Alcott was former Tal Shiar named Dralath Tr’Rul.

As she thought, she looked up at Death. Then she looked at Asa. There was a mix of confusion and fear on her face. Her mother lied to her about who Dralath Tr’Rul was when she pressed her during shore leave. Her father, Declan Dox had not messaged her or answered any messages sent to her since his imprisonment over 15 years ago.

Looking back up, Dox formed the one question in her mind. The only question she needed to know. She thought it, but she couldn't make the words come out of her mouth. She turned to Asa. "I... don't know what to do?"

Clasping Mnhei'sahe's hand in their own, Asa said gently, "Yes you do, you are just scared to. But it's ok, you are with people who care for you and will help you process what you may learn. Nothing in your history changes anything about who my friend is. Either of my friends." With a smile at Death, Asa clasped her gloved in one their outstretched hand.

The young pilot hung her head and took a breath. Slowly, she rose her head back up, biting her lip. She looked across at Death and asked softly, "Dralath tr'Rul. He's... He's my father, isn't he?"

Death simply nodded silently, confirming Dox's suspicions.

Sitting back in her chair, Dox's face went blank as her eyes drifted past the room they were all in for a long moment. Quietly, she whispered back Death's own words, "layers of lies like blankets wrapped around them..."

"It was all lies, then. My... my entire life. Everything I am... I'm a lie." She muttered as her head hung, staring down at nothing.

"On the contrary. You are what was so important that they layered so many lies to protect," Death corrected. "You are the one truth they absolutely had to protect at all costs."

"Me?" Dox asked, but it wasn't really a question as it hung there as she paused. "T... Thank you. I guess I need to figure out what I'm going to do with this now. And she'll either tell me everything or she won't. I don't know."

Looking up, Dox's eyes were heavy as she tried to put on a false aire of confidence. But all she could manage was an awkward smile.

Sensing their friend’s inner turmoil, Asa lept from their chair to go to their knees in front of Dox, wrapping her in a fierce hug. With a strength some would be surprised the doctor's frail form could possess, Asa squeezed Mnhei’sahe and said in a whisper, “Remember when I felt like nothing? When I was convinced my life was one series of mistakes after another? What did you tell me? You said those were all lies. Guess what, any doubts you have of your own worth? Those are the only lies in this room. You are an amazing creature, no matter what your lineage. Who other than a fiercely kind person would not only befriend Death, but fight for her also? Who else would go into a den of kidnappers single-handedly to save one lost doctor? Would Mona choose someone unworthy of her affections? Would Rita call friend to someone who should never have been? Sounds to me like you are pretty wonderful, Mnhei’sahe. And I’ll be here to remind you of that until you believe it.”

"You don't understand, Asa..." Dox muttered as she returned Asa's hug. "What this means... It's more than when you were looking for genetic damage and fixed it."

Pulling slightly back, Dox looked at Asa with a pained look on her face. "If both my parents are Romulan, I'm not part-human. But you found Declan Dox's DNA in me. Human DNA. That had to have been added in somehow. Manipulated or faked or spliced. It means I'm... genetically modified or worse. That's... that's Illegal in the Federation. Prohibited from serving in Starfleet. I... I have to tell the Captain."

With a start of surprise, Asa let the ships artificial gravity claim them and sat down cross-legged on the floor.

“I….I admit I didn’t think of that,” Doctor Dael replied, “That’s a really stupid rule by the way. You can’t help what was done to you as a child. But…that means there is pure Romulan blood in there somewhere, and there are plenty of Romulans serving in the fleet. If we cleanse the human additives to your DNA, wouldn’t that mean you are no longer disqualified? It would be no different than restoring someone who was illegally experimented upon to their original health, would it not? I’m so sorry Dox…I should have caught this the first time….”

"You were looking for damage and you found it. You fixed it." Dox scooched out of her chair to join Asa on the floor. "None of this is your fault. When you found out I was broken, you literally put me back together. But... we don't know what was done to me. Or if anything can be done. If you didn't find it before, it would have to have been damn advanced. I have to go to the Captain. I can't have you knowing about this come back on you. On your career."

“My career means nothing if I can’t help those I care about, Mnhei’sahe, you know that. Starfleet means we don’t leave our friends and crewmates behind. Ever. You aren’t talking to the Captain alone. If you will allow me, I will go with you and advocate for medical courses of action that might give us an out with the brass. There’s always a way, we just have to find it.”

Asa stood up, reaching a hand down to help Mnhei’sahe back to her feet. Sitting on the floor felt too much like moping, and now was not the time for that. Now was the time to get ahead of things, to plan for success. There were few things in life more stubborn than a determined Asa, and if Starfleet Command thought they could out-obstinate the young El-Aurian when it came to their friend, well, they had another thing coming.

Standing back up, Dox looked at Asa and knew better than trying to dissuade them from trying to help. She would have better luck arm wrestling Schwein. Instead, she turned to the woman once known as Masato Rei with an awkward smile. "I meant it... Thank you. And I'm sorry. We came here for you and I've been... vomiting my drama all over the place. But thank you for telling me. It might be hard, but I'd rather know the truth."

The pale woman nodded, a smile gracing her features. "The truth can be a dangerous thing among your people. The next time you meet your mother, promise me one thing. You won't show her that you know that truth in anger. You have precious little time left with her and words spoken in anger only reduce that time further. Instead, please try to use compassion and open-mindedness."

Pausing for a moment on the weight of the words 'precious little time left', Dox was stunned for a moment. As always, the enigmatic woman seemed to choose her words well, and regardless of how long that time was, she understood. "I promise."

She then turned back to Asa. "As for you and that giant book... If you can read it within a thousand years, I owe you a thousand of mine."

Asa laughed heartily, “Challenge accepted! I think you forget what an incurable bookworm you just bet on. Truth be told, I’d rather go for a ride with you on your horse….if such things are allowed? It must be incredible whizzing through the cosmos on the back of a mighty steed. Plus, not gonna lie Azrael, I really wanna pet the pony.”

All three people in the room knew that Asa meant every word, but was also hoping to bring some levity to the gathering. The doctor knew they were somewhat of a ridiculous being- too young to be away from home, too naïve to deal with life’s hardships at times, too clumsy to walk straight, and too goofy to not try to elicit a laugh, but Asa liked who they were, and these were friends. According to one Doctor Asa Dael, if you can’t be silly with friends, are they even your friends at all?

Death had to laugh at that declaration, letting loose more of a human laugh than the dark Death-like chuckle that she'd come to use over the generations. "Oh goodness. I think I'd forgotten what friends were like. Ok, someday I'll take you for a ride on my Pale Horse. Of that, I promise."

In spite of her anxiety, Dox joined in the authentic laughter of her friends. And while she couldn't imagine how she ended up the friend of the descendant of Demi-gods or the cosmic embodiment of Death, she was grateful for them.

Death then turned more serious all of a sudden, one hand touching the picture of herself. "Do you mind if I ask for a frame for this next time you come by? Maybe something in bamboo? Yes? No? Maybe?"

Turning back to her friend, Dox smiled broadly. She looked at Asa, then back to Death. "Of course. Anything."

"Speaking of photos....would it be possible for we three to take one?" Asa inquired.

"If you can take this one... I suppose so..." the pale woman mused.

With a quizzical look on her face, Dox replied. "The ship's sensors can detect you, but not with great accuracy. The EMH can, however, see you clearly and interact with you. It might be because he's sentient, I don't know. But if we were to ask him to basically observe us together and allow us to make a print from that data, it should be a fairly easy thing to get. Do you think he would be okay with that, Asa? You know him a lot better than I do."

“I mean, he’s going to look at me like I’m crazy, but that’s becoming a default of late. But yeah, I think he would do it, he’s a good guy, generally just wants to help. I’m trying to not summon him places when he’s off duty though….he works himself too hard, he’s sacrificing his own personal development and goals to be available to the crew. I don’t want his programming to degrade from overuse, so I’m asking him to keep hours, same as everyone else, and honoring his off time off. I’ll ask him on next shift when he can swing by though.”

"That sounds good. And in the meantime, we can find a nice frame for this picture. I think the arboretum has real bamboo, not replicated, we can work with to make something." Dox smiled, keeping her own anxiety aside for the time.

"And what does everyone think of pasta, next time?" Dox added.

"Ooh, maybe some nice yakisoba? No... How about... Chicken alfredo? Or maybe cheese and spinach tortellini? Oh, just bring a variety and surprise me." Death was once again excited about the food and looking forward to her next meal. "Lasagna carbonara? Bring extra garlic!"

Smiling back, Dox nodded. "Consider it done..." Then she trailed off. "I've been calling you Azrael. Just saying 'Death' feels... impersonal. But... I think it's now appropriate now to ask what you would prefer."

"Actually, as part of my job, that's on you." Death placed one gloved hand gently on Dox's hand. "Whatever you call me needs to come from the heart and be meaningful to you in defining my existence and being. That's all I ask."

“Well that’s easy then, “ Asa replied, realizing this was a question they had needed to ask also, “I think I will call you Cara Anam,” looking at Dox, Asa said simply, “It means friend of my soul. What about you, Mnhei'sahe?”

Smiling, Dox replied with a chuckle. "You never quite make it east., do you?" Then she got a bit thoughtful.

"To me, you're all of the things that make you you. You're Azrael Thanatos, the Rider of the pale horse. You're the Rihannsu, Llai'hr. But... I may not see the face in that picture when I see you, it's the face I think of when I think about you. I suppose that means you're Masato Rei to me. So long as that's okay with you."

"I think that might be the most romantic notion of me yet," the pale woman replied with a soft smile.

"Masato Rei it is, then." Dox replied, returning the smile as a bit of the melancholy of earlier returned to her tone. "But for tonight, I think I have a report to make. Thank you again." Dox nodded, as she prepared to leave to deal with whatever ramifications would come from what she learned.

"Thank you for visiting." The pale woman stood as well, to see them out.

"Anytime." Dox replied as she walked with the two towards the door. As her stomach continued to twist on itself, she smiled in spite of herself. Regardless of what was to come next, she had real friends supporting her and in that moment, that made her happy.

It was late and the Flight Control Office was closed down officially, but Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox knew that Ensign Mona Gonadie was in her lab putting in some overtime on one of her amazing projects. The two had recently gone past their initial attraction to form a strong and growing relationship. But Mona knew Dox and Doctor Asa Dael had plans this evening to bring dinner to one of the Hera's more interesting occupants, the literal manifestation of Death, herself.

The three had become unlikely friends and Dox and Dael were bringing Death forgotten information about her former, mortal life that night. So Dox knew that Mona was planning to work late. But something had been revealed at that dinner that Mnhei'sahe knew she had to talk to Mona about.

As Asa waited, supportingly in the corridor, Mnhei'sahe anxiously walked in to the Flight Control Office. As the doors wooshed behind her, Dox called out. "Mona, are you here?"

The brightly plumed aviatrix stepped out of her testing area wearing a suit and helmet trailing at least a hundred cables behind it but the tone in Dox's voice was slightly alarming to her so she ignored the experiment and hit a large red button to shut it down and pulled open the velcro in the front to step out of the suit and leave it on the testing floor.

"I am. What's wrong?" she asked, still trailing a few cables looped around one foot that she had to shake off.

It was absolutely adorable to Mnhei'sahe, and she smiled in spite of herself in the moment. "I'm sorry. I... There's something I need to tell you. Something... something happened at dinner."

And now Mona was full on panicked. "Oh no... You met with Death and now... You're dying, aren't you? Please tell me you're not dying. I don't want you to die." She clung to Dox for dear life, in the hopes that that would keep her from dying on her.

"Imirrhlhhse!" Dox cursed in Rihan in a panic, realizing how stupid it was for her to have not clarified that in advance. "Oh God, no. No, no, no. Oh, I'm so sorry. That was so stupid of me. No, No, I'm not dying. I'm not dying, Asa's not dying, nobody's dying. No dying, I promise. I am so sorry."

Hugging back just as tight, it was about the worst possible way to start the conversation. "I am so sorry, Mona. No. I'm... I'm okay. It... It might be my career that could die, but I'm okay."

"Death has killed your careeeeeeeerrrrrrr......" Mona wailed, burying her face in Dox's shoulder.

Turning deep green with embarrassment, Dox did her best to calm her love down. "No... No, no, no. Death didn't kill anything. I promise. It's not like that." As she spoke, she softly ran her hand down the back of Mona's head as she brought her voice down to a soft whisper.

"Shhhh... It's okay, Jhu Dhael. It's okay." Mnhei'sahe tried calling Mona down as she called her the Rihan term for 'Angel Bird'. "Just calm down. I'm sorry. Just breathe."

Mona breathed deeply and nodded, tears in her eyes. "Ok... Ok... I'm breathing..." She then looked deep into her love's eyes. "Minay... What happened then?" Minay came through the UT as both a pet name and as a Miradonian word meaning 'nightfeathers'.

Putting her hand on Mona's cheek, Dox replied. "You remember the man I told you about. The Romulan man I remember from when I was a little girl, Dralath tr'Rul? She... Death told me what my mother wouldn't about him, Mona. She... she told me that he's... he's my father."

Mona's eyes slowly went wide at that revelation, then she covered her mouth with one hand. "That means... You're actually fully Romulan... And... Oh Minay... That's wonderful, but... What will Starfleet think?"

Biting her lip slightly, Dox continued. "Romulan... isn't a problem. But... when Asa repaired the damage to my DNA, every test they did said my father was human. We... we believed that they tried to repress my Romulan DNA when I was a girl, but Asa repaired it."

As anxiety twisted her stomach, Dox stepped back slightly to take a breath. "But.... this proves that I'm not part anything. But my DNA still has human traces in it, Mona. And... I don't know why,but that means that they... I was genetically modified. Altered even worse then what we thought was just damage before. And that's... that's Illegal."

She looked into Mona's eyes. "I don't care that I'm Romulan. But genetic modification was made illegal over a century ago in the Federation. I'd... It means I'm not allowed to serve in Starfleet. Asa thinks they can still... fix it somehow... but if they can't... I might be dishonorably discharged from duty."

"No... No..." Mona scrunched up her face in thought and waggled a finger in the air. "There's precedent on this. I remember studying this... Your modification wasn't to enhance you, but I assume to hide you. To cover something up. Also, you haven't made it a crutch or flaunted it in any way. Also, with the level of manipulation that would be needed to evade Asa's scans, it would have had to have been very early and possibly done before you were even born with very advanced techniques, hence definitely not something you even knew about, hence complete deniability on your part. And I know the Captain would never abandon you."

"I have to go tell her next. And Asa agrees with you... but... but I don't know." Dox wanted to believe both her friend waiting in the corridor and the woman she loved standing in front of her but she was afraid.

"But... no matter what she says... I... I had to come to you first. I'm not going to give up. Not on this ship or this crew. And in a million lifetimes, never on you. But you needed to know what could happen. You're the one I tell everything first from now on." Dox pulled herself back up, nodding as she spoke.

Mona pulled Dox into another tight hug. "Everything will be fine, Minay. I know it will. And I'll be with you the whole way."

Putting her head softly on Mona's shoulder, Dox softly replied. "You're here. Everything already is."

From the Flight Control Office, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox had called asking to speak to Captain Enalia Telvan and Commander Rita Paris as soon as was possible for a matter of some importance. The Captain was in her quarters, but told Dox to come and that Commander Paris would meet them there. So Dox and Doctor Asa Dael were on their way to the Captain's quarters.

As they approached the Captain's room, Dox turned to their friend. "I appreciate you coming, but you don't need to do this, Asa."

"You are right, Mnhei'sahe, I dont need to do this, I choose to. Besides, someone has to he around for any medical questions. Might as well be me. Now lead on," the young doctor replied, smiling with a look of determination.

As they arrived at the Captain's quarters, Dox turned and looked up at Asa standing beside her, whispering. "Thank you." As she did, she pressed the chime on the Captain's door and waited nervously.

The door opened to Enalia's call of "Come in!" to reveal the usual dimly lit quarters of the Captain filled with antiques and tapestries. She was in silk pajamas at her table with a steaming tea set in the center. "Please, join me for my evening tea while we talk? It's a camomile and mint with a bit of honey infusion."

Stepping in somewhat sheepishly, Dox gestured to Asa. "Thank you, Captain. Uh... Doctor Dael wanted to be here as well and Commander Paris should be here in a moment as well. I'm... I'm hoping this isn't as big of an issue as I'm afraid it is, but I... It felt important to bring this to you as soon as I realized it."

"Better to know something immediately than in the morning." Enalia quiped, pouring four cups of tea complete with saucers. "Now come, sit down and tell me what it is while we wait for Commander Paris to decide on the heels or armor."

Stepping in, Dox was trying to relax and took a seat. "Probably isn't an 'armor' problem, Captain." She tried joking.

“You sure I won't need the armor? Because big issues often look a lot larger when viewed from the inside,” came the familiar tones of the first officer, who had followed the duo in. After all, this was after hours, so Rita Paris was in her casual ‘around my quarters’ clothes, which consisted of a pair of short exercise shorts, furry slippers and a brown v-necked t-shirt bearing the slogan ‘Klingons don’t have a safe word’.

“So what’s wrong, Miss Dox? What cataclysm is headed our way this time?” Rita asked with her typical good cheer.

While Rita was cheerful, the Captain was calm and both Asa and Mona have been extremely supportive, the perpetually anxious pilot was still nervous. "Well... It's in regards to me. Um... as you know, I've been keeping an eye on things regarding our newest guest. Since I'm one of the few people that can interact with her and vouched for her, I've been stopping in regularly to bring Death meals and talk. Really, mostly very casual. It's been fine."

Talking helped her focus and the words came easier. "Well, Asa and I went there for dinner tonight. And we were talking about her past. We... Asa and I... had tracked down some basic information about her own past that she could no longer remember. And... to make a long story short, she asked us both if we wanted any answers about our own pasts that she might know."

Fidgeting slightly, Dox took a sip of her tea. "Well... there's a man. A man I remember from my childhood that I began remembering after I began practicing meditation with Sonak. A Romulan named Dralath tr'Rul. I've mentioned this before... The man my Mother lied to me about."

There seemed to be no end to the things Dox’s mother had or would lie to her about, so somehow that was of no surprise to the fulsome first officer. Although it did explain why the Romulan intelligence asset had been so evasive when Dox had confronted her about it on Earth. But in the here and now, it was clear more was coming to light.

“Go on,” Rita offered encouragingly as she dropped her ass onto the couch next to the captain. “Were all ears, Miss Dox.”

“So… for a while now… I've had questions about him. Beyond just who beyond his name and that he was in the Tal Shiar. I wanted to know why he was figuring so prominently in my earliest memories. I've… I've had a suspicion for a while that hasn't made and sense. But… when I asked her she confirmed it. Somehow, he's my Father.”

“Which is where things start becoming a problem. It doesn't just mean that I'm not actually part human. That's not what I'm concerned about. When Asa examined me and repaired the genetic damage that had been done when I was a girl… they confirmed that I do have human DNA. We know that my genetic code was manipulated as a child, but Asa had repaired that. That's legal enough.” Dox began talking quicker as her anxiety ramped up.

“But if both my parents are Romulan and there's still human DNA In me… it means they did more. It means that they did some kind of serious genetic manipulation. Maybe even engineering. I don't know. But I know that that level of genetic manipulation… it's illegal in the Federation… in Starfleet.”

Looking at both Enalia and Rita, Dox had legitimate concern in her expression. “I don't know what this means for me… for my career.”

To this point Asa had held their peace, allowing Mnhei’sahe to speak her mind freely. However, now that the discussion was momentarily on medical matters, Asa decided to speak up.

“With all respect ma’am’s, I would like to go on the record stating that any genetic manipulation was masterfully done, leaving no trace behind. Mnhei’sahe’s reflexes, neural capabilities, immunology, presentation, and biology are all within the realm of what would be expected for a half Human-half Romulan. The prohibition against genetic tampering is in place to stop people from creating super soldiers, or super scientists, or super-whatever really. I love Mnhei’sahe, so this is said with all love- She is not genetically advantaged against her peers in a way that should disqualify her from service.”

The doctor spoke in a clear, calm tone, maintaining respectful eye contact while still keeping a hand outstretched in case their friend should desire to grab it. Asa would face down a bear for Mnhei’sahe, but they were confident so would Rita and Enalia.

Sitting next to Asa, Dox's fingers twitched slightly as for a second, they wanted to take their friends hand. They wished that they hadn't asked Mona to wait for her. Instead, she simply waited and looked at her Captain.

"Well... As someone that's had to extensively go over those laws myself previously..." Enalia began slowly, sipping at her tea. "One, you were not aware of the manipulation. Two, your DNA was mixed with a predominantly regressive genome that did not enhance you in any noticeable way. Three, it was most likely done under the purview of a foreign power."

"That means that under the current bans and laws, there is zero possibility of you being used as a biogenic weapon, which is the primary purpose of said bans and laws." Enalia then looked over to Asa for confirmation, her teacup at her lips. "Would you agree with that assessment, Doctor?"

"Without reservation and wholeheartedly," Dael replied.

"We're a bit lenient, you may have noticed," Rita Paris explained- after all, this looked like the time for it. "The Baroness is an admitted genetic augment and she's in VIP quarters. You've apparently been folded, bent, stapled and mutilated in the name of messing with your geneology. Ideally these are supposed to be actionable offenses, despite the fact that in both cases neither of you did this to yourselves nor did you give consent. I will freely admit I have faithfully reported the details of these situations up the chain of command. I know that the Captain dutifully passes them up to the Commodore."

"There is no response from the brass. No orders, no recriminations, no acknowledgement that they find anything in the reports actionable. So in short, Miss Dox, it seems that in Starfleet Intelligence, if someone has tinkered with your corpus delecti for nefarious purposes, so long as you don't start trying to maraud your way across the universe, they can overlook that little detail." Paris wrapped up her diatribe by getting to the point, waving her finger about as she spoke. "The historians are unlikely to note Starfleet's little indiscretions like this, mostly because we live in the shadows. Our deeds will seldom, if ever, be known to the general public, or even Starfleet at large. We, Miss Dox, are unsung heroes. So we get to be a bit... exceptional."

"Exactly. I'm not an average male Trill running mining freighters, you're not a full Romulan wherever your mother was before leaving the Empire, Schwein isn't dead on some failed lab colony, Rita is one of the last remnants of a time splinter that no longer exists and was apparently full of beautiful versions of people. In the end, as long as we're part of Intel Command, there's a certain level of things that we can get away with as long as they're aware. This is definitely one of them." Enalia then set aside her cup of tea and picked up a sugar cube. She balanced it on one finger for a moment before flipping it clear across the room towards the door to her quarters just as they opened and right into one of the teacups that Maica kept in her massage parlor just as she walked in the door.

"Oh! Oh my! Sugar in my cup!" Maica exclaimed as she noticed the offending sugar cube. "Sorry I'm late. I had a lot of extra appointments and the squids were stressed out." She paused long enough to give Enalia a quick kiss before she headed into the kitchen. "Give me a few minutes and I'll have dinner started for everyone, ok?"

"It's ok, I had some of that leftover soup from yesterday. I just warmed it up and sprinkled some cheese on it." The spotted woman was smiling like the world was perfect and she didn't have a care in the world, but had to remind herself she still had to focus on her company. "Unless you all want something to eat?"

Slumping slightly in her seat, Dox sighed in relief. "Uh... Thank you, Captain. I... I appreciate the offer. But I think I need to go and tell Mona everything's going to be okay."

The young Romulan pilot looked around at the assemblage of her crewmembers and friends and was extremely grateful to have found herself where she was. "But... But thank you all. For everything."

"You did the right thing reporting this, Lieutenant. Let us not be dismissive of that- you comported yourself honorably, and we're proud of you for that. Bringing your medical advocate was a good strategic move, well done. And being open about it- not throwing yourself on your sword over it but just bringing the facts to us to disseminate- very well done, Miss Dox." The Paris speech was delivered by the girl curled up on the couch in her short shorts and salacious t-shirt, yet somehow she lent it gravitas, and made the experience a positive teaching moment. Thus the living antiquity once more demonstrated her purpose.

"Thank you, Commander." Dox let a slight smile crack her face as she talked. "Asa wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer, though."

"Either way, it does you great credit and will go a long way."Enalia couldn't help but smile a bit as well. "Now the next step will be to gather cold hard facts before I make my report. You have forty eight hours to do whatever you can to find out your original gene sequence, how it was modified, and when before I make my report and they start questioning your mother. And no, 'because a deity class alien said so' isn't going to cut it."

Turning to Asa, Dox tilted her head slightly. "I guess we'll be spending a bit of time in your office for more tests, Doctor?"

With a returned smile, Asa replied, “Lucky you! Tomorrow is check-up day for eight crew members entering their second phase of pregnancy. Nothing Nurse Vimes can’t handle of course, the woman is a power-house, just fair warning, hormonal crying ahoy!”

Then turning to the Captain, Asa said, “I will have a full report to you by the end of shift tomorrow, ma’am.”

"Thank you, I'll start drafting my report to Command." Enalia almost cringed at the thought of all those pregnant women though. "And we need to talk about the future of families aboard the Hera later..."

"That sounds like my cue. All right you two, carry on, and I think the Captain and I need to have a discussion now. On your way, aye?" While it was a dismissal, it was good-natured. More than likely it was Paris giving the duo an out so she could start a dialogue with the captain.

"Aye, Commander." Dox replied in her usual awkward manner. She was still anxious but at least it looked as if she still had a career for the time being. She nodded politely as it was clear more needed to be said, possibly about her, possibly about the issue of families that Captain had brought up. But whatever it was, it wasn't for her ears, so she made her exit, anxious to get back to Mona.

“Aye Commander,” Asa replied with a grin. They knew the Captain and XO would support Dox, and were relieved for their friend to get some reassurance.

“If you need any information on due dates and estimated leave times, please let me know. I have some preliminary forecasts completed, and I should have complete schedules for expected delivery dates by the end of this week’s exams. Good evening to you both,” Asa said, inclining their head in a nod of respect before readying to leave.

As the two left, Enalia relaxed and finished up her tea before turning to Rita.

"Please tell me you're not pregnant too...?"

Personal Log, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox. Stardate, 2396.

My name is Mnhei'sahe Dox. I am a pilot and a Starfleet Lieutenant. I am the Chief Flight Officer of the U.S.S. Hera, and I am Rihannsu.

That is what the PaDD in my hand says. A report from the ships Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Asa Dael, compiled after a day and a half of extensive medical testing. Deep genetic scans, bone marrow extraction, spinal fluid sampling and more. I'm still a little sore, but it was all very necessary to get to the bottom of what I had recently learned to determine how it was possible.

Two days ago, Asa and I had sat down with a unique friend of ours that shared with me a secret that she knew. Our friend is Death. The literal manifestation of Death... and she's quite nice. She answered a question I had been struggling with for weeks now. She told me the identity of a Romulan man I remembered from my earliest youth named Dralath tr'Rul. She confirmed that he is my Father.

Not the human, Declan Dox. Dralath tr'Rul is my Father. Which means that I'm not truly half-human. I'm fully Rihannsu... Romulan. Which raised many troubling questions that the Captain insisted we have answered medically, hence the report on my PaDD. Simply a copy of what Asa had already sent to Captain Telvan for her review, it answers to the best of our ability how it's possible that I can have two Romulan parents and still carry Human DNA from Declan Dox.

I already knew that I had been somehow genetically altered as a child. I had been led to believe it was done to me along with surgery to remove the tips of my pointed ears when I was about 5. When this was discovered, Doctor Dael confirmed that my human DNA had been artificially given dominance by forcing my Romulan genes to become recessive. But it was causing me long-term genetic damage that would have eventually led to complications and an early death. After a week of genetic therapy, Asa was able to reverse that damage. That human DNA returned to its recessive state and my Romulan DNA became prominent again. My blood was restored, as was my long-term health. And we thought that was the end of it until now.

Reading the report, it's startling. To the best of Asa's determinations, my genome was altered either when my Mother was pregnant with me, or at least within the first year of my life. Declan Dox's DNA was imprinted over my own, creating a third set of genetic information. It was this that was causing the damage that Asa fixed. And according to Asa, the manipulation was extremely well done as it was essentially invisible to all but the most invasive of scans and tests. It means it had to have been done by someone with a lot of resources. It was done to HIDE Dralath's DNA, apparently. And it was done well.

The overwriting was extensive, and as it is of no harm to me, Asa does not recommend trying to separate it from my genetic code as that would very likely cause me more harm than good. I may not have been born of humanity, but I carry Human DNA intertwined with my own, making me, I suppose, still part-Human in a different way. And it's been there my entire life, influencing my development to make me what I am now. I carry Declan Dox's Red hair. I carry his portly body type and freckles. These are all parts of me even if he isn't my Father.

I also carry his name. And I am choosing to continue to do so. In part, because my status as a genetically modified individual is considered classified between myself, Starfleet intelligence and the handful of crew that knows. But for me, because it is the name of Shawn and Juliet Dox. Declan's parents that took me in as an angry, sixteen-year-old girl who they never even knew existed and accepted me as their Granddaughter without reservation. I never let them in when they were alive, and it's a regret I will carry to my grave, but I will carry their name with me. A way of honoring them and that part of myself. It's something to carry to remind myself to be better.

Rita Paris knows. Captain Telvan and her wife Maica know. Asa and the EMH know. And, of course, Mona Gonadie knows. In a very short time, I'm kind of scared with how much I love her and how important she is to me. She's Miradonian and she says her people mate for life, and that scares me. It scares me because I'm afraid that I'll fail her with my insecurities and my anger and my weakness. And I'm scared because I know Miradonian's have a lifespan a fraction of a Romulans. I fell in love with her and I will potentially have to say goodbye less than halfway through my own life and that thought is heartbreaking already. But I told her everything, and of course, she doesn't care about what my parentage is. She just loves me and wants me to be happy. I hope that she helps me learn how to do that.

When I talked with Death, she said that my parents did this to protect me, somehow. I don't know what that means yet, but I mean to find out when next I talk to my mother. She'll tell me or it may be the last conversation we ever have. But I will also heed Death's advice and try to approach her with an open mind and without anger. It will be difficult, but I'll try. I also have to consider what I learned from the Baroness and the Captain. When we were smugglers, my Mother and I ferried many refugees from Romulus to freedom, and many of those Romulans are now pirates in the Captain's Artan family. A family I am now also a Baroness in. And the Captain's upcoming tribunal against her Mother for control of that family may rest on what side those Romulans fall on, so there's extra incentive for me to somehow make peace with my Mother for the Captains sake. That will... not be an easy thing for me. Especially now.

Rita Paris once told me to hold on to my human heritage. To not lose it in my desire to reconnect with my Rihannsu roots. And oddly enough, I feel that might be even more important for me to remember now that that humanity is only an adopted one.

Since joining the crew of the Hera, my life has changed in ways I couldn't have imagined possible. I have friends and family here. I have made connections that I will fight until my last breath to keep. I've made relationships more important to me than any I've had before. And I have a future to live up to. I know more about that future then I probably should, but I can't unknow what I've been told. I can only hope that I live up to that potential and don't let everyone down.

After Dox and Dael departed, Rita Paris turned to the spotted mistress of the USS Hera and asked her point-blank question.

"I read that on other ships in Starfleet they bring entire families. There are daycares. There are kids whose birth certificates read 'USS Excalibur' and coordinates at the time of their birth. Human beings who will never know the planet of the origin of their species if they don't go to Starfleet Academy. So why not us, Captain?" Rita finally got to the point. "Why are we the exception with no rugrats underfoot on your starship?"

"Oh goodness... You would have to ask that... I'm going to need another cup of tea." Pouring another cup of tea, Enalia poured a cup for Rita as well. "It all started when we were going after this ancient Iconian demon known as the Master. We were being thrown into harm's way every other week it seemed and people were dying left and right. I lost a third of my crew on one mission. We just didn't have the firepower or ability to protect ourselves, let alone our families. Hence why those that had kids had to leave them at a boarding school, which Starfleet paid for. A few other ships tried this as well because of their missions being severe long range. I think we're the only ship left in the program though."

"Space is dangerouys, no doubt about it. But so is life in general. How many promising Starfleet careers were nipped in the bud by our trademark 'something awful', sure. But how many of them were cut short in traffic accidents or slipping in the shower or a barfight? I watched a Klingon pull a disruptor on a ensign in a barfight, and by the time Stuart decked him he had turned it up to 'disintegrate'. Life..." Rita rotated her upraised finger about, indicating the universe. "Life is dangerous. Any other reasons? I mean, to be fair, you mentioned maica wanting kids long before you mentioned Mommy Dearest wanting to interfere."

"Honestly, I think you're right. With the last refit and the slight shift in mission role with the Master gone, perhaps we can rejoin the fleet in having families aboard. Then again, this ship is pretty classified." Enalia then let loose a hearty laugh. "Who am I kidding on that one? We just flew over eight hundred refugees straight into a civilian dock. Command even authorized it. We're now as classified as the Enterprise."

"We aren't classified. What we do is classified," Rita clarified. "Also we ourselves, because I am pretty sure the Commodore never actually filed any paperwork and Starfleet still doesn't know that I actually exist just yet. As for kids, what? Every other fleet manages it. I assume kids are relegated to only a few decks of the ship, so we put the nurseries, daycares, schools and playgrounds and all of whatever we need to raise kids on a few decks together, and restrict them from the rest of the ship. So that little Jack Jack doesn't accidentally wander into one of the intel vaults. As these things tend to happen."

"We do have a lot of free space in the saucer for future upgrades... I think we still have around sixteen percent of the ship left vacant. Twenty four if you clear out storage." Enalia sipped at her tea and sighed. "You realize you've volunteered to coordinate this, right?"

"Came with the job, cap'n," Rita waved it off, already having assumed that would be the case. "To answer your question from earlier, no- I am not pregnant. That requires some intervention from more than just biology for an iron-blood and a copper-blood to make a little mudblood. I mean, I certainly do go through the motions. I practice like I'm training for the baby making decathlon, but no. He and I have discussed it, made our plan and we're good, Captain. You've got four years and change- I won't give birth until early 2400, although if I can time their births I will, because being born new year's day at the turn of the century has got to be some powerful mojo."

Realizing how she might sound, Rita smiled nervously. "What, it's a thing..."

The spotted woman shook her head and chuckled softly. "Oh, you are a character. I am so glad you're here, you know that? Okay, so we already have a prenatal and maternity ward in sickbay apparently. We should have a large enough open area of that deck that we can make a nursery. The deck below it has a pair of old cadet classrooms that hasn't been used in a couple years with full range holographics you can use to your advantage. Is that enough to get started?"

"I find no flaw in your argument, ma'am. We'll have to expand crew quarters down there and make family units, but that's not a chore, and we'll add soundproofing. Replicators make quarters self-contained, but I think for the first neighborhood down there we'll shift the corridors and make them a loop, to create an enclosed space with limited access. If you like we can reinforce the bulkheads and add some additional shielding options to the families can button up when there's trouble- keep your conscience a bit more at ease." Rita paused, smiling and nodding, clearly impressed with herself.

"I'm glad I'm here too, lady. I never would have guessed it in a million years, but we make a pretty darn good team, Prinzessin," Rita appropriated the Baroness' nickname for the captain with a naughty smile.

"That we do. We should be able to add sound dampeners as well, like Maica has in her massage parlor." Enalia finished off her cup of tea and set aside her teacup. "That way any crying doesn't annoy the neighbors."


"Definitely. And the kids running around, as kids do. Holographic teachers along with live interactive studies? We should at the very least offer courses in sciences, astrogation, engineering, communications and piloting. If you grow up on a starship you should know a lot about them, and we have some of the foremost experts to teach curriculum with lively guest speakers." Rita stopped to consider that, folding her legs under her on the couch. "I'll have to look into the fleet education guides, but I do like the idea of getting the crew involved with teaching. I think this could be good for them as well in more ways than just having families. It takes a tribe to raise a child, right?"

"That sounds like the start of a good plan. Once we draw up an official request I'll forward it to the Commodore and we can go from there, but I'm sure she'll get it approved. Especially with our decline in deaths and combat." Enalia leaned back in her chair and yawned. "Now is there anything else we need to work on before we can call it a day? Any more last minute emergencies?"

“This is a decline in combat? Whew,” Rita wisecracked, although she wasn’t really joking. “No ma’am… looks like the Starbase personnel will be offloaded at Deep Space 9 for processing, I’m pretty positive Mona and Mnhei’sahe are dating, Doc is nervous about going to Bajor to visit their dying father and Clemens seems to be ready to report back to active duty. Ah, pick out some sort of present for Thex and Taatha, which isn’t tradition but you are the captain, it’s practically expected. And I’ve filed the paperwork to get us clearance and coordination to deliver that changeling to the other side of the wormhole in the gamma Quadrant, which is pretty incredible. I think that’s all we really need to be concerned with at this point, Captain.”

Enalia nodded, moving the teacups back onto the serving tray. "Then I think we're good for the night. That can all wait until the morning. Thank you, Rita."

"Aye, ma'am." Knowing when to take a cue, Rita rose from the couch to see herself out. pausing at the door, she turned. "You know, if we get all of this set up, you actually can start a family, Captain. Just throwing it out there." With that said, Paris made her exit.

Maica came out of the kitchen and helped clean up the impromptu tea party, giving Enalia a loving kiss in the process. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? We would just need to figure out how to have kids."

"You make it sound like that's the easy part," Enalia replied with a mischievous grin.

If anyone was new to the federation starship know as the Hera the sight that was making it's way down the corridor would make you stop and do a double take. A trio of an andorian, anear and a betazoid females were making there way down the corridor the anear balanced between the other two.

All three were wearing a more modest orion dancing outfit with the cloth in the colors of Starfleets three departments with a white outline with grey letters saying USS Hera's Fly girls.

The trio paused outside of sickbay with Thex turning to the betazoid. " It's okay Rorra we can handle it from here." She said to the woman who nodded and hurried off.

" Sorry about all this love." The anear who was clearly in pain as she kept one leg off the ground

" Don't need to apologize my dearest it a simple mistake. " Thex said as she stepped through the doors. " Hello, there can we get a hand here. " Thex said with a polite smile to the receptionist.

“Oh goodness!” Nurse Vimes exclaimed, rushing to help Thex get Tathaa to the nearest biodbed.

Having heard the commotion from reception, Asa poked out of their office to check and see if all was well. Seeing Tathaa resting in a biobed with a strained expression, Asa grabbed a medical tricorder and went over.

“Hello there, looks like dance practice had a mishap?” Asa hazarded a guess.

" Yes, i misstepped and fell off the stage. " The anear said with an embarrassed smile on her face. " twisted my ankle and it hurts to put weight on it. "

"Well next time save yourself the effort of trying, silly and just beam here. Now let's take a look," Asa said while scanning.

"Yep, that's one heck of a sprain. No worries though, fix you right up. Now Thex has a much more serious problem. Horribly urgent to say the least."

The grin on Asa's face combined with the playfulness in their tone spoke to the joking nature of the last sentiment, they were simply hoping to get Tathaa to play along to be distracted from the itching sensation the tissue knitter tended to cause Anears.

" Wait what..." Tathaa said her attena flickering as her head turned to look at Thex who had been squeezing her hand.

“Isn’t it obvious? She must break all Federation law to delete the footage of your fall from grace. She clearly can’t have footage of you missing a dance step floating around the universe. Nothing for it now, delete the footage and life a life on the run. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant Commander?” Asa asked in a teasing tone with a wink.

" but we weren't...." the anear began before realizing she was realizing the doctor was joking. She let out a slight laugh to herself. " Very funny Dael. So how bad is it?"

“Nothing to worry about!” Asa said with a grin, “In fact, all better now. Try walking on it for me?”

The doctor offered a hand to Tathaa, anticipating some trepidation upon standing, but confident in their work.

The anear slowly stepped off the bed along with the help of Thex and the doctor. Her leg was feeling better now and she could put weight on it. " Thank you Dael it feels better now." She said as she let go of Thex and gave the doctor a slight hug.

Returning the hug with a vigor, Asa smiled while a mischevious glint began to shine in their eyes.

“So, um, I have a date in 300 years, and well, I was wanting to learn dance properly between now and then….the last time I danced with Virildi, well, the only time, I felt a wee bit awkward. Would you mind teaching me some moves?”

" Congrats on getting the date Asa. Are there any dancing stiles you'd like to learn in particular?" Thex said from the seat she was sitting on.

“Thanks!” Asa chirped, then paused a moment to think.

“I’m…not sure. The person I’m meeting is gaseous in nature- particulate that is, not someone with a bean eating habit, and when we dance they liked moving up and down my arms, legs, torso, head, the whole nine. Picture a big hula hoop that touches your skin the whole time and occasionally takes on the shape of a beach ball. Um, how would you dance with that person? Something tells me the old Earth Macarena just wouldn’t be right, but that’s about where my skills end.”

Both of the andorians paused for a moment as they tried to think of something that could work. " Hum, I'm not really sure if we know any that could work for. How about we go down to the holodeck next time your free and we can all look through some dance styles that could work for you?" the anear suggest as Thex kept thinking.


“Sure, that sounds lovely, “ Asa replied with a grin. “If it helps, we share a telepathic bond when dancing, so my partner will know what moves come next and anticipate them. I’m free tomorrow at 1600 if you are?”

" Yes, we should be free at that time. We'll see you there if there... " Thex said with a grin before pausing as he mates nudged her slightly.

" Well, I have something I'd like to ask you Asa. As you know we're going to conduct the part of the bonding ceremony soon, but we've run into a problem. My parents might not be able to make the trip and i need someone to be my witness for the ceremony. If they can't be here would you be willing to be my witness?" the anear asked her boss. "

Asa’s jaw dropped near to the floor as they hopped in excitement for a few small jumps.

“Are you kidding me? I would be honored to stand by your side! Heck, I’ll even let you dress me however you desire- bony knees and all!” Then in their excitement, Dael wrapped up both Andorians in a huge bear hug.

It took a few seconds for the two andorian to recover their breath from the hug, but both returned it. " Thanks and don't worry us dressing you up. Only people we're doing that to is each other. " Thex responded slowly as her breath returned.

“Of course, of course!” Asa continued to gush, “Just tell me what I need to do, and I am there for it! Oh wow, I gotta go watch recorded ceremonies now to learn what to expect so I don’t embarrass you two….Have you picked out a cake flavor? I know all about sugar, I can ask the replicator to send you some samples?”

" You just need to bring yourself, state that the love Tathaa has for me is true, cut a lock of her hair and hand it to her as well as the Shapla. It's an andorian locket the equivalent of a human wedding ring. " Thex explained.

" Hadn't thought about having cake. I'll see about making some." The anerar added.

"Ok, yeah, I can do that!" Asa enthused. "After all, not too many people more in love than you crazy kids."

" Thank you Asa. This means a lot to us." Thex said a warm smile on her face. " Oh one last thing. It's formal wear. Anythings allowed, but blue and white is the traditional color."

“I can do that!” Asa said, grinning widely. “Decorations? Do you need help setting anything up?”

" We may need help getting set up. We'll let you know if we do." Thex replied. " Now doc i should get this one home before she trips up again." She said playfully to her partner.

"Of course, of course, and don't remember to wipe that security footage!" Asa replied back, joking smile plastered on their face.

They had somehow arrived at Deep Space Nine and successfully docked with only a few minor security incidents aboard the USS Hera. Most of which had been caused by their own Starfleet counterparts being nosy about the ship itself. It seemed most of the Romulans were content to just wait out their time and hope for the best while the collected races of the Federation were far more curious about their surroundings.

With the Intel ship tethered to one of the lower docking pylons though, so as to stay out of sight of the promenade populace, Captain Enalia Telvan and Captain James Kurland of the station hoped they would be able to minimize the questions of the locals at least.

With the refugee schedules now being coordinated, Enalia was now at her desk and finally relaxing for what felt the first time since this whole thing kicked off. And what was she going to do? She was going to call the station's commander.

Punching in the comm codes, they went right through. "Kurland here. What can I do for you, Captain Telvan?"

Enalia smiled politely at the by now signature figure aboard the station. "It's good to see you again, Captain. I was just calling to let you know that docking went well on our end and we've begun shuttle and transfer operations with your people. With around eight hundred people, it's going to take a while though. Especially when nearly two hundred of them are Romulan and suspected Tal Shiar."

"Tal Shiar or not, I don't exactly see that as a reason to completely restrict their movements," Kurland replied. "After all, the Empire is still mostly allies and we do have a diplomatic duty to uphold."

The spotted woman smiled brighter. "I couldn't agree more. That is still a lot of people though."

"Station security might not be too happy, but we'll do what we can." He chuckled softly with his reply. "After all, we've been through far worse than a few refugees passing this way."

"That's certainly true. This station's changed hands more times than I care to remember." Enalia had to share the chuckle as well.

"Say... You wouldn't be interested in walking around the promenade with me later this evening, would you? I could show you some of the sights." The man was definitely lonely and trying to ask Enalia on a date, but not doing very well at it.

For Enalia's part, she smiled that polite smile of hers and readied an excuse. "Tonight? My wife and I planned on staying in and relaxing. Perhaps we could join you another time."

The look of crushed defeat on his face when he learned that not only was Enalia married but to another woman... She wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for him or happy that she got out of it. That level of desperation was not healthy for anyone.

He did seem to recover quickly at least. "Ah, well... Another time perhaps. If you'll excuse me, I have some reports to take care of before the end of the day. If you need anything else, please feel free to call. Kurland out."

As soon as the screen returned to the Hera's comm banner, Enalia breathed a sigh of relief. So far most of her correspondences had been with his XO and the few times she'd spoken with him had been pleasant but strictly kept to business. Who knew that he was one of those thirsty boys she'd been warned about.