Star Trek: Death of the Federation

[Marcao]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, IRW S'harien

The S'harien stood motionless an impartial arbiter as the Cardassian ship pressed onward deeper into the system. The reaction from the Gilgamesh and the Riskadh were ample enough to give any but the most suicidal of ships pause. It did not seem that the S'harien itself would need to act. Galan leaned back against his command chair, his head tilted backwards as he sighed.

Uncle.

The thought swam across the surface of his mind before it dipped into its depths. The thought should have filled him with pleasure, but it did not. It filled him with both hope and sadness. Hope for the future of his people, and sadness for the role that he would not play in its resurgence.

"Ship dropping out of warp." His sensor officer said, his voice possessing an undercurrent of surprise. Just how many ships were going to come to Nivoch this day?

Galan leaned forward and glanced at his tactical screen. "Type?"

"Federation, Sovereign class. Its identifying itself as the USS Immortal."

"There is a name I have not heard in some time." Galan admitted.

He had always found that particular ship to have a double edged name. It spoke of victory, and its captain was well known for being a survivor but it also tempted fate. After all, what sort of enemy could resist trying to destroy a ship named thus? Still, it was a Sovereign. It was the Sovereign-class of ships that had awoken the Romulan senate. The Valdore had been a direct response to the introduction of the Sovereign and to a lesser extent the Klingon Negh'var. The Sovereign had matched or exceeded the D`Deridex in too many fields to make the Romulan Star Navy comfortable. The Valdore and her sisters had been the Romulan response. If nothing else, in a sense he owed the Immortal and her sisters his command. His attention focused on the tactical display, tracking the Immortal as it closed the distance.

"Put the Immortal on screen." He added.

"Riov." His sensor officer replied, a moment later the USS Immortal dominated the main screen. Its wounds hinted at past conflicts and bore a silently promise to conflicts to come.

Galan watched the ship as it drew ever closer. It was hard to believe, that ten years or so ago, his fondest wish had been a conflict with such a vessel. He doubted that he would ever have the chance now. His eyes focused on the screen once more.

Maybe that was for the best.

The message from the Argonaut interrupted his reverie and he answered it almost immediately. "USS Argonaut, this is the IRW S'harien. Our intentions are resupply and shore leave for members of my crew until the S'harien continues onwards to Bajor." He hesitated for a moment. "Rather than have all vessels interact through communications, is it possible for you to arrange a meeting place either on your vessel or Nivoch IV? It would simplify communications." He would enjoy and opportunity to interact directly with the various command personnel of the ships in the system.

Even the Cardassian. I want to at least see what he looks like.

"Sensors, keep an eye on the system. I am expecting a Ferengi Marauder and a Dominion Battleship any moment now." Galan found himself stating dryly. A soft chuckle rippled through the bridge beneath his comment. They had expected one, maybe two Federation warships eager for the presence of a Romulan Warbird. What they had found was a squadron in the making.

"Should I start getting the word out for the crew to be ready for leave?" Erei'riov Dar asked when the usual silent professionalism descended on the bridge once more.

"Yes. I expect that Nivoch IV will grant us clearance within an hour or so, assuming that Warships do not continue to come to the system. I want rotations of one hundred. Once we have an estimation of how long we are staying, we will be able to break down the time on Nivoch IV for each group." Riov Galan responded.

[frigidmagi]

The bridge of the Immortal was busy but quiet. A sense of relief seem to settle over the crew as they saw other ships. It helped dispel the dread that they were last unassmilated ship in the Quadrant. The Captain stood facing the screen, with the Commander Tak at his right. Tak felt an uneasy feeling in his guts, they had been out of contact for over 20 standard months, working their way from Federation space to Ferengi space, trying to stay low and find battles they could win while effecting field repairs. What was waiting for them on Bajor? Were they getting their hopes up for nothing? If the Captain felt this he didn't show it. Tak had served with him for years now, including being his tactical officer on the Thunderchild. It amazed him that he couldn't read the Captain even now. Humans were usually damn easy to read once you knew what to look for.

"Lots of incoming traffic, Captain. Sorting now." The com reported.

"Let me know if they ask for communication's with me or the XO, com." The Captain ordered.

"Sir, I got another ship. Cardassian, identifies as the Katarra." Reported Cerezi.

"Figures he survived. That pirate. The Borg can't even do us small favors." Commander Tak snarled. It was a tired snarled though.

"XO?" Asked the Captain.

"The Katara was a raider. It hit transports. My oldest sibling was on one of those transports. She wasn't even in Starfleet or the Imperial Guard. We should have spaced the whole vermin crew of that damn carron eater of a ship." Tak replied quietly.

"I can understand that feeling XO. But we'll have to let it slide. One war at a time, understood?" Captain Anderson ordered.

"Yes Sir, Understood."

"Sir, standard hail from the Empryean, replying." Com reported.

"Getting odd readings from well... almost everyone. Empryean seems to be running with only 20 lifesigns. The Romulan ship has faint traces of Borg emissions, the Klingon ship is moving to cover the Empryean against the Katarra." Cerezi kept up a running report from her station near sensors.

"Put it on screen Cerezi, tactical notation, please." The Captain ordered. Red shapes representing the ships with notations next to each identifying speed, vector, size and coordinates sprang up on the screen. Before the wars, most Captains would not have deigned to use it, but the Captain prefered it.

"Gilgamesh is offering assistance if we require it." Com reported.

"The Defiant class ship? Eager aren't they?" Tak mused.

"I'm glad someone is XO. Com, thank the Gilgamesh gracefully and inform them we are functional for the time being. Not much that can be done outside of a ship yard anyways." Captain Anderson noted.

"Klingon ship, Riskadh has hailed us." Com reported.

"Reply Kai Tai Riskadh. It is good to see that the Klin fight before the naked stars still. We look forward to fighting together." The Captain ordered.

"Sir broadcast from the Argonaut, I think you better hear this one Sir." The Com officer reported, at the Captain's nod the message was played over the speakers.

"This is the USS Argonaut," said Kalpov, trying to sound less tired than he actually was, making it sound like it was an everyday affair to have half a dozen heavily armed warships from four different races materialize in front of him. "We've been assigned guardship for the Nivoch colony for the time being, please approach at impulse power and state your intentions and destination."

"I'll reply, Com. Began recording." The Captain ordered.

"Recording Aye Sir." The Com officer replied.

"USS Argonaut, this is USS Immortal, Captain Anderson speaking. We are on route to Bajor in reply to intercepted general orders from Starfleet Command. Our intention is for a stopover of 36 hours before preceding to Bajor. Do you have updated orders? Over." The Captain said, with a nod to the Com officer the officer broadcasted it.

[LadyTevar]

Acting Captain's Log, Stardate 75588.0

We are en route to Bajor to join the defense of the planet. This is going to be the first large gathering of Starfleet vessels since ....

Lt. Commander Eoife Kirk broke off, her eyes glancing over to the still shape under the sterile field of the medical bed. She swallowed, then continued her recording. It had become a habit to record her logs by the side of her injured captain. Sometimes, he'd wake up from the coma and comment, give her suggestions. However, it had been over a ship's month since he last spoke.

... since the Defense of Earth. The crew seems to be looking forward to rejoining the Fleet. We have been on the run too long. We have...

"Capt Kirk to the Bridge"

Eoife rolled her eyes, saving and shutting down the datapad. "They never get tired of that joke, do they, Captain?" she sighed softly, looking down to Capt. George Ellison, the true captain of the Spector. She rose to her feet and saluted the comatose man, before turning to walk out of Medbay, slapping her communicator as she stalked towards the Bridge. "Kirk here, give me a sit-rep on the way."

"We're picking up multiple ships in the planetary system of Nivoch IV. Lots of comm traffic, we're trying to identify now."

"Understood," Kirk replied, stepping into the turbolift that would take her straight to the Battle Bridge. The lift to the Main Bridge had never been repaired, leaving them short a lift, but the hull breach had left it as unrepairable as the Bridge itself. She stepped off into the Battle Bridge seconds later.

"Captain on the Bridge," the call went out, and Eoife took her place as Lt. Serin stepped aside to the sensors. "The ships include several Federation vessels, as well as a Klingon, Romulan, and what looks like a Cardassian." The tactical view showed the ships around the planet, with tentative labels of ship classes.

"Borg?"

"The comm traffic doesn't suggest it," Serin replied, calm as only a Vulcan could be. Most amusing, as he was actually an adopted child of mixed heritage. He looked like a green-haired human, due to Orion genetics somewhere. His adoption by Vulcan parents had been explained as exactingly logical. "No match to Borg protocol. We are a few days out from Bajor," he added. "There is a possibility these ships are also en route."

Eoife leaned forward on her left elbow, rubbing her chin as she considered the ships on the screen. Her eyes darkened with thought, considering the options.

"Captain? Your orders?"

****

The bow-wave of a ship dropping from warp was the first indication of yet another arrival to the Nivoch IV system. It was clearly a Federation vessel, identified easily as an Akira-class by the allied computers. However, like the Immortal, it was also clear this ship had survived great battles. The main disc bore a deep wound across the top, a trench that started in front of the bridge dome and scored many meters starboard. Rough patches showed an attempt to lessen the scar, but nothing outside a drydock would ever heal such a wound. Lesser scorch-marks showed other places where Borg weapons had left their mark, but the name shown brightly under refit lights.

"This is the USS Spector, Acting Captain Eoife Kirk commanding." Eoife stood proudly for the visual feed, hiding how badly the butterflies were warring in her stomach. "Is this a private party, or can anyone join?"

[Cynical Cat]

"His Klingonaase isn't too bad," said Morizan as Anderson's words were played on the bridge. "Although given his reputation, I was almost expecting complete fluency."

"Perhaps he's been too busy fighting," said Kadon. Teeth flashed around the bridge.

"There's another Federation ship dropping out of warp and closing," said Arikel. "Akira class."

"Captain," said Aaveroke, "the Argonaut is requesting that those who wish to approach the planet do so at impulse and to clearly state their intentions. The Akira has identified herself as the Spector."

"Acknowledge their hail politely zan Aaveroke. Then put me on coms to all ships" said the Klingon Captain. "This is Kadon of the Riskadh. I suggest we make for orbit around Nivoch IV and beam down to discuss matters of mutual interest at a more neutral location."

He gestured to kill the link. "Helm, take us towards Nivoch, full impulse. Shields to half. Cool the mains and unload torpedo tubes after the Cardassian deactivates his weapon system."

"If he keeps shields and ices his guns?" asked Kallor.

"Nothing," replied Kadon. "He's not among friends. We are."

[Hotfoot]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, passing Nivoch VII

In the mission pod of the Empyrean, an ensign handed a padd to Science Officer Dunok, “Sir, I’ve analyzed the readings from the Katara, it was difficult, but I was able to get a good scan on her parts. That third point down’s what caught my eye. It looked like Federation tech, and it wasn’t on their configuration during the war as far as our records can tell.â€

[frigidmagi]

"This is the USS Spector, Acting Captain Eoife Kirk commanding." Eoife stood proudly for the visual feed, hiding how badly the butterflies were warring in her stomach. "Is this a private party, or can anyone join?"

Captain Anderson didn't quite twitch. It was close however, as he ran his earlier thoughts through his head. Ask for a Kirk... He should know better then to tempt God by now. He really should. He had a soft spot for Akira's to, remembering his tour on the Thunderchild. The Thunderchild had died well.

"Didn't that Muntineer turned Pirate call himself an Acting Captain?" Commander Tak's antennae pointing up slightly. At least the XO whispered it.

"I doubt a Muntineer would casually show up XO." Captain Anderson muttered out of the right side of his mouth. He couldn't do that with the left side anymore.

"Com send a message to Acting Captain Kirk. Standard Hail, actually... Let her know I would love a tour if she doesn't mind. How about you Zi?" The Captain asked.

"Wouldn't mind being on an Akira again, be kinda like old times, Sir." Cerezi said with a small smile.

[Marcao]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, IRW S'harien

Galan watched as yet another signature dropped out of hyperspace. He shook his head for a moment in wonder. It was as if every warship within fifty light years in any direction had decided to come to Nivoch this day. Still, with the Borg swarming over the system and Bajor offering both momentary safety and the promise of one last fight it was not surprising that any ship that could fight would seek to be there.

"Hail coming through from the USS Spector, visual and audio." His communication officer said.

"Let me see it." He responded.

The message from the USS Spector was shown in his bridge, the human female stood proudly and yet there was something else there as well. Romulans were very much aware of the facades that all people sought to transpose between their inner selves and that which they project to the world. The Empire had functioning in a similar principle, proudly displaying strength even when there had been weakness. He did not doubt that Eoife had fire. She was after all a Kirk.

Under normal circumstances he would have let the humans handle their own but these were not the usual circumstances. His left hand moved, a single key pressed before a message was sent from the S'harien towards the USS Spector.

"Aefvadh Spector. This party is always willing to accept the worthy." He said. The last a subtle jab at the Katara. He had no doubt that he could use the Cardassian warship. It would be both foolish and wasteful not to, but he did not think he would ever accept its crew as equals.

"Riov, the Riskadh is sending a message to all ships." His communication officer stated.

He listened to the words from Kadon and nodded. He had already stated such directly to the USS Argonaut but the Klingon had settled on bold action and informed everyone. It was in his mind, an outcome more likely to bring about a result. The Argonaut was likely swamped trying to coordinate information from the many guests that had arrived in system and Nivoch IV.

"The Riskadh is moving, full impulse towards Nivoch IV" His sensor officer replied a mere heartbeat after the profile of the Klingon Vor'cha changed.

"Follow them." There were times when actions spoke louder than words. By moving with the Riskadh, they politely pressed the issue. It was time for a face to face meeting. He had always preferred such meetings over conversations carried forth through the void.

The S'harien smoothly accelerated from its position between the USS Gilgamesh and the IKV Riskadh, following the Klingon warship towards Nivoch IV. The Klingon ship led the way, one and a half lengths in front of the S'harien as both alien warships raced towards Nivoch IV. It was a poignant scene, two ships that had at one point represented the two largest and mightiest powers in the alpha quadrant aside from the Federation itself. The borg had changed everything, and even though the Romulan and Klingon Empires had ceased to exist, their warriors still remained among the stars.

[General Havoc]

"I don't care what the situation is up there, Commander," said the Bolian on the screen, "we do not have the facilities to cope with a dozen warships disgorging their crews for R&R all at once. That's not going to change just because you think it ought to!"

Kalpov sat back in his chair and resisted, for the fourth time, the urge to disintegrate something. As he did so, his com badge piped in.

"Sir, the Immortal is hailing us."

"Patch it through," he said automatically. "Full speakers."

"USS Argonaut, this is USS Immortal, Captain Anderson speaking. We are on route to Bajor in reply to intercepted general orders from Starfleet Command. Our intention is for a stopover of 36 hours before preceding to Bajor. Do you have updated orders? Over."

The look on the Bolian's face as the message was played back for his hearing was an image to be cherished.

"Magistrate," said Commander Kalpov, "There are six - "

"Commander," came the voice of his first officer, "we're also reading a - "

"Seven ships counting my own - " said Kalpov without skipping a beat in close or deep orbit of your colony right this second. A Romulan, Klingon, Cardassian, and four Federation starships. You were the one who asked for protection while we stopped over in the first place. You assured me that your colony had enough supplies to make it worth our while to do so. There's individual ships all over this sector, just trying to clump bank together into meaningful task forces. What exactly did you think was going to happen?"

"Commander, this colony was built to hold thirty thousand colonists. I have a hundred and fifty six thousand refugees on-planet at this very moment. What do you want me to do?"

Kalpov forced his anger back. The Bolian Magistrate's voice had the thin, brittle sound of a man pushed to his limits for months if not years, discernible even through the translator.

"There's an entire M-class planet down there," said the Commander. "You have to have some open space."

"If you want to beam down into a field, sure, we've got plenty," said the Magistrate, "but the colony is bursting at the seams as it is."

"Tell your people to put something together on the edge of the colony. We can sleep aboard our ships, but I have got to get my crew onto a real planet for a while, and I need supplies for the replicators and the cargo bay."

"I don't have the manpower to set something up on such short - "

Kalpov exploded. "That's not my goddamn problem, Magistrate!" he shouted. "You asked for us to show up here, now find us a meeting place and a beamdown site, or I'll let you explain to the armed Klingon battlecruiser up here that colony traffic control isn't going to let him land. I'm sure he and the Romulans will understand."

"All right! All right... we'll... we'll figure something out. Nivoch out."

The screen went dark, leaving Kalpov sitting in his ready room in silence, a situation he savored for all of three seconds before rising and walking out into the bridge.

"What was that new contact?" he asked Ereshal.

"Federation ship sir, Akira-class. USS Spector. Captain Ellison, according to the computer, although someone else claims to be 'acting captain'."

Kalpov chuckled as he sat down. "Someone's got an ego," he said, fingering the 'Acting Commander' insignia on his collar. "Who is it?"

"Eofie Kirk."

Kalpov froze in the act of sitting. "Kirk?" he asked.

"That's what she claimed," said Ereshal, before picking up that something was wrong. "... Commander?"

Kalpov snapped out of it. "Nothing," he said. "Just... nothing. What did she say."

"She wanted to know if this was a private party."

Sounds like a Kirk thought Kalpov. "Tell her that we can find a table for her if she forgot her reservation. Use those words."

Ereshal smiled. "Yes sir."

"Now then..." Kalpov glanced into his situation map next to the captain's chair. "About this Cardassian..."

*--------------------------------------------------*

"Nebula-class m'am, I'd swear to it."

"This isn't a court of inquiry, Ensign," said Ereshal. "How do you know?"

"The lines, m'am," said the Ensign, sounding rather like a puppy trying to impress someone. Ensign Resir, like everyone on Argonaut, was not a proper Ensign, not even a proper Starfleet officer, but a refugee they had pulled out of a wrecked transport nine months ago. He claimed to be eighteen. Nobody believed him. But he'd thrown himself into everything, even sewage detail, like a puppy attacking a chew toy, and that sort of thing was worth cultivating, perhaps more now than ever.

"That little bump on the back there," he said, pointing to the screen, where the line of lights ends? That's a Nebula. I'm sure. I used to have these little models - "

"We'll take your word for it, Ensign," said Kalpov, staring at the Cardassian Keldon in the viewscreen. He wasn't sure what to think. After all, half the ships out there had visibly been altered by scavange, sporting everything from Romulan power cores to Dominion beam arrays. Argonaut had pieces of what had to be a dozen different ships in her, some Federation, some not. Yet while Kalpov had no firsthand knowledge of her antics, the computer's report on the Cardassian Union Cruiser Katara was fairly damning.

"Well she's not charged," said Lt. Luthor. "And if she does charge, I wouldn't rate her chances good against the firepower in here."

"No," said Kalpov thoughtfully, glancing at the chronometer. "We have to get moving. Get me all ships in the system."

"Opening channels now," said Ensign Resir. "Where'd they all come from, anyway?"

"It's a snowball effect," said Kalpov. "Someone reads a friendly ship on sensors and decides to stop by. Two ships show up at longer range, so other people start collecting. The more ships you have, the more safe it looks, the more ships will come out of their way to stop by. Pretty soon you've got your own little fleet."

Resir stopped. "But Commander... if all these ships can see us from this far out... can't the Borg?"

"That's why we have to get moving Ensign. Now open the channel."

"Channel open, sir," said Ensign Resir with a soft gulp. Ereshal glanced at Kalpov but said nothing, as the Commander cleared his throat.

"This is the Argonaut," he said, "calling all ships in the Nivoch system. The colonial Magistrate has agreed to set aside an area planetside for shore leave rotations and resupply. We're under orders to guard this planet for the time being pending redeployment to Bajor." None of that was true, at least in the sense of official orders. But then there was no way to determine that now.

"I've been asked to extend an official greeting to any ship purposing to continue on to Bajor after refit." Several bridge members snickered, but he waved them to silence. "If not," he said, "I'm instructed to ask your intentions within Federation space."

[Agent Fisher]

Katara

"Gul, we're being hailed. USS Gilgamesh is inquiring if we require assistance."

Gul Tarka gave a sardonic smile. "Yes, I'm sure they would love to come aboard." He said. "Return their hail, thanking them for their offer, but respectfully declining." He ordered.

"Helm, approach the planet, one third impulse. Weapons, remain powered down please. I doubt we could cloak fast enough to evade all this firepower."

He stood from his chair, looking at the display, tracking the other ships. The Immortal, Spector, Romulan, Klingon. At one time, all three factions had fought each other and against the Union, now all could be in the same system without blasting each other.

Though he was sure if they could get away with it, his ship would be vapor in a heartbeat.

"Communications, send a standard hailing packet. Greetings from the Katara and the union, here to offer our ship in the struggle for freedom and all that."

The glin nodded, typing out a message to be transmitted.

Tarka kept his eyes on the display, watching the ships, his communications officer occasionaly reporting what was said.

To all Ships:

The Katara and the Cardassian Union send greetings and heartfelt gladness to see you intact. We wish to offer our ship in support of the upcoming rallying action at Bajor.

[rhoenix]

"Another ship entering system," Lieutenant Adranis said, his right eyebrow raised. Not much surprised the man any longer, but this was beginning to strain credibility. "Federation, Akira-class, reads as USS Spector."

"Captain, we're receiving a visual hail from her," Swift said. "May I?"

"Put it up," replied Captain Solheim, looking mildly intrigued.

"This is the USS Spector, Acting Captain Eoife Kirk commanding." Eoife stood proudly for the visual feed, hiding how badly the butterflies were warring in her stomach. "Is this a private party, or can anyone join?"

There was dead silence on the bridge for all of three seconds before Lieutenant Adranis began chuckling quietly. "Figures," he remarked quietly in Romulan.

"Would you care to elaborate on that, Lieutenant?" Captain Solheim replied in Romulan, hiding a smile. Adranis' cynicism was a private source of his amusement at times.

There was a pause as Lieutenant Adranis gathered his thoughts, his eyes half-lidded and eyebrows narrowed as he thought. After a moment, he spoke up, this time in normal Federation Standard. "Consider, Captain. We have all lost most of our peoples, many lost battles against the Borg, we have a final desperate rallying at Bajor, we have an incredulity-straining number of ships show up in this tiny, nearly-forgotten corner of the galaxy to restock provisions before flying into another suicide mission, and who shows up? A Kirk," he said with a smirk, shaking his head.

"And?" replied Commander Inzeti, raising an elegant eyebrow.

"And," sighed Lieutenant Adranis, "Captain Kirk was single-handedly responsible for some of the most incredulity-straining events in all of galactic history," he said darkly. "I'm saying it makes a frightening amount of sense."

"Whatever - I'm reading that they have what look like combat shuttles aboard," Lt. Commander Nevola, AKA "Swift" remarked, her dark eyes lighting up in delight. "Oh, I want to fly one. I wonder if she'd let me?"

Captain Solheim chuckled quietly. "One thing at a time. Swift, send her a hail from us, and tell her that we're glad to see the Spector."

"Sir, incoming message from Captain Anderson of the USS Argonaut, Lieutenant Adranis said. "Another full a/v message."

"On the viewer," Captain Solheim replied.

"This is the Argonaut," he said, "calling all ships in the Nivoch system. The colonial Magistrate has agreed to set aside an area planetside for shore leave rotations and resupply. We're under orders to guard this planet for the time being pending redeployment to Bajor."

Captain Solheim was silent for a moment.

Lieutenant Adranis suddenly chuckled. "We have a reply from the Katara, sent in text. 'We are grateful for your generous offer of assistance, but we are quite well supplied at this time, and so must respectfully decline.' The message is attached to a Gul Tarka.

At this, Commander Inzeti chuckled. "I remember hunting him a few times. Sneaky bastard - it doesn't surprise me at all that he's managed to survive all of this by scavenging. He's always been a survivor. Captain, he knows that they're the outsiders coming to us for protection and aid, whether they want to put it in those terms or not. I say we treat them as allies, though with a watchful eye," she said, a small smile appearing on her face, and a twinkle in her eye. "It will be fun to see him attempt to show his usefulness to all of us while still maintaining his Cardassian dignity."

"Alright," replied Captain Solheim with a nod, his mind now made up. "We'll rotate down by shifts. Commander Inzeti and I will go down along with Swift, as well as Kappa shift after we give the all-clear. Adranis, you're in charge until Beta shift is over in four hours, then Vela will be in charge during Kappa shift. I'll be back in charge during Alpha shift. I want this ship in hot standby at all times - something tells me not all the surprises today will be good ones."

"Aye, sir," replied Lieutenant Adranis with a nod. If he was going to answer to a human Captain, at least it was a competent one.


"Swift, Samara, let's go," said Captain Solheim as he got out of chair, and strode toward the turbolift, the two ladies following him.

The three were silent for a moment, though Commander Inzeti spoke up quietly as the three strode down the hall toward the transporter pads. "Matthias, do you think there will be a problem with our 'field promotions,' as it were?"

"I'd say that depends entirely on who you ask," Captain Solheim replied, managing to keep a straight face at first. "I imagine Galen still has a problem with it."

"That's not who I mean," replied Commander Inzeti with narrowed eyes, though she too had a growing smile on her face.

Captain Solheim chuckled as the three walked into the transporter room, nodding to the technician on duty. "At this point, if they seriously want to make an issue out of it, I'm not going to care. The Borg are after all of us, and they don't care about what flag we fly. If anyone fighting against them does, then they're myopic idiots," he said simply. "Energize, Ensign," he said with a nod.

With that, Captain Matthais Solheim, Commander Samara Inzeti, and Lieutenant Commander Arichu Nevola vanished into sparkles of energy, transported to the planet Nevoch IV below.

[LadyTevar]

The comm lit up with replies from all the vessels in orbit, just as Eoife knew it would. Eoife had to stand and look like she was calm and knew what she was doing, while the calls came in. Some she could have the comms officer answer, with the visual blocked.

The request for a tour of the ship was met with a grin. "Please inform Capt. Anderson that we should be able to arrange that."

The Romulan greeting was met with simple courtesy. "I am honored to be amongst such a gathering of worthies."

The Argonaut's reply drew a true grin from Eoife. "Send this reply: A table with a view would be nice."

The Cardassian's welcome was met with a standard return hail, nothing more.

But the visual of Maren Rahl, had Eoife turning the visual again. "My apologies for sending her your way, Captain," Eoife answered with a wide grin and laughing eyes. Behind her, all her bridge crew but Serin waved madly at their former crewmate. "If you want, we'll take her back. I'm sure we could use her on one of the new fighter designs we've managed to get flying." All in good fun, as Eoife Kirk gave Rahl a wink. "You're both welcome aboard the Spector."

"This is the Argonaut," he said, "calling all ships in the Nivoch system. The colonial Magistrate has agreed to set aside an area planetside for shore leave rotations and resupply. We're under orders to guard this planet for the time being pending redeployment to Bajor."

Eoife looked off-screen as the command came from the Argonaut, and cut communication so she could give orders to her crew. "Standard Orbit, folks. Keep our distance from the Cardassian."

Her navigator chuckled. "Which do you want closer to, the Klingon or the Romulan."

Eoife sent him a raised eyebrow, and he coughed and looked down to his board. "Standard Orbit, Captain." It would put them close to the Empyrean, which meant closer to the Klingon vessel.

"Serin, set schedules for shore leave, no more than a third of the crew and pilots at a time. We don't want caught with a skeleton crew when the Borg show up."

"When, Captain?" Serin asked, one eyebrow raising.

"We stopped to investigate, because of the number of ships here," Eoife explained her voice low and serious. "So will the Borg."

[Hotfoot]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, entering orbit around Nivoch IV

Captain DuBois couldn’t help but let his smile grow. It was one of the first genuinely happy moments he had been given in years, and his energy showed in the bridge. “If you can find a way to pry her from the tactical console, you’re welcome to have her, Captain.â€

[Marcao]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, Orbit of Nivoch IV
IRW S'harien

"We have reached orbit Riov." The helmsman, a Romulan male indicated mere moments after the S'harien took its position in orbit over the M-class world below.

"Excellent. We will coordinate with Nivoch IV control and see what sort of numbers they are set up to handle at a time. At most, I want no more than two hundred crew members to be on planet at a time. That will be four shifts, the length determined by the amount of time that we plan on staying in this world." Galan responded. His eyes sliding around the assembled members of his bridge crew.

"I will be going down the world in order to meet with the other captains and see what sort of strategy if any they plan to employ on their way to Bajor." He continued when he saw no dissent to his orders.

"You will go alone Riov?" His communication officer asked. The Romulan female did not mask her concern.

"I doubt that Idrakht will let me go down to the world unsupervised." The Reman head of security was notoriously fussy about leaving the Riov unguarded for a multitude of reasons.

"You are right about that." Erei'riov Hanaj responded with a shake of his head. The Riov would be lucky if he could get away with four Remans watching his every move.

"He and his people take their appointed tasks seriously. It is something we all should be grateful for. Erei'rov, the S'harien is yours. I want you to coordinate with Riov Sindari about making sure that she and her people keep an eye out for any of our people that may still be in this world." With those words said, Riov Galan Cretak stood from his command chair and walked out of the bridge and into a nearby lift. The lift opened and waiting within was a familiar Reman.

"Riov. I am placing two of my best at your disposal." Idrakht stated, his tone stating that the number was not open for discussion. Under normal circumstances, he would not have allowed Galan to leave the ship with anything less than six of his men but they usually negotiated down to four. This time, given the circumstances two would appear to suffice.

Galan smiled. "Of course Arrain Idrakht. I was thinking about that number myself."

Idrakht hesitated for a moment his eyes focusing on those of his Riov before his left hand reached out and brushed against a familiar glyph. "Sev" He stated and the lift immediately began to move.

"So Idrakht, what do you think about this little gathering of forces?" Galan asked. Before the Reman could offer a response, the lift reached its destination and its ornate doors opened revealing the fourth deck of the S'harien. Immediately awaiting past the doors stood two large Remans standing akin to two heavily armed statues.

Idrakht glanced at his soldiers and then glanced at his Riov. "A worthy beginning. Some of the ships gathered outside have a proud tradition of fighting and perhaps most important of all, surviving. Those are both skills we will need in the days to come."

Galan's eyes rested on the Remans for only a moment. He recognized this pair, they had been part of his escort in the past. The Remans stood like statues although he knew that these two were amongst the most highly telepathic of their people aboard the S'harien. He believed that the years of working side by side had forged a bond that allowed them to speak with their minds to each other. It was the only plausible explanation that he had given some of the circumstances that he had seen them participate in. Each had a disruptor pistol and a kinetic pistol sitting on their left and right hips respectively while slung on their back was the latest model of Disruptor Rifle the Empire had managed to manufacture. He took a step and then another, exiting the lift and glancing to his left where Idrakht matched him step by step. "Is this really necessary Idrakht? We are going to a federation world not storming a Borg sphere."

Idrakht chuckled softly. "There will be Klingons there Riov as well as representatives from a handful of Federation warships and a Cardassian as well as whatever dangers may exist in the world below. To go unprepared into such a world is foolish."

"The Klingons and the Federation are our allies. The Cardassian, he knows that if he were to do something foolish the S'harien could reduce his vessel to dust." Galan protested. The two heavily armed Remans walked no more than two steps behind.

"Be that as it may Riov, they are to keep you safe from any and all conceivable threats." His voice was firm on that matter.

"Fine." He said finally relenting. He looked up and took a turn, the nearest transporter room welcoming his arrival as well as his two bodyguards.

"I hope your negotiations are successful Riov." Idrakht said as he watched the Riov and his two bodyguard step into the transporter area and vanish as green energy flared and seemed to wrap itself around the men.

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, Nivoch IV

Riov Galan Cretak and his two bodyguards arrived on the coordinates provided to them by the USS Argonaut and blinked. Galan had been transported thousands of times and each time was a little different than the last. His eyes narrowed as they quickly adjusted the ambient light around him, his Reman bodyguards were known to be sensitive to light but they hid any discomfort they may have felt. He took a step forward and immediately felt the comforting weight of his disruptor laying at his left side. The highly ornate weapon had been introduced within the last six months of the Empire, a Tal Shiar design meant for the elite of the Empire it was highly adorned and composed of a mixture of rare metals found throughout the Romulan Star Empire. Only a handful of the disruptors survived. It incorporated all of the latest advances in disruptor technology.

In his right side, laid its twin although it lacked the ornamentation and visual appeal of his disruptor, his kinetic pistol was his preferred tool against the Borg. The Federation had provided the S'harien and its crew, many such devices in both pistol and rifle form during the defense of Earth. It had been these kinetic weapons that had allowed the surviving crew of the S'harien to fight the Borg infection that had sought to consume their ship. After that incident however, several flaws had become apparent with the Federation designed weapon. Firstly, it had been built with tolerances of weight meant predominantly for a human. In the hands of a Romulan or a Reman, the weapon had been far too light. Its efficiency had been admirable, but it had seemed to lack power when dealing with some of the Borg's larger drones. As a result, Arrain Velal and Riov N'vek had designed their own weapon fit to be used by their own forces. The end result was a significantly larger and heavier weapon, with a heavier payload accelerated at a slower velocity.

He wore the traditional dress of the Romulan Star Navy. He had always been a bit taller than the majority of his people. His hair was unchanged from his days in the Imperial War College. It was as if he remained transfixed in time, a constant in a galaxy that had been turned on its end. The fall of the home world had brought with it despair and many Romulans had lost themselves to their emotions. Galan coped by focusing on his duty and his achievements, as if in doing so he reaffirmed his own existence. He caught sight of Samara first, his throat tightening as the fates once more reminded him of what could have been. His eyes lingered on the Romulan, although he forced them away. His eyes glanced to Captain Solheim and he felt heat rising from the pit of his stomach.

You are no longer fire Galan. You have to be water.

The thought swam to the surface of his mind and lingered there, pushing aside anger that he had no right to feel. Samara had never been his, regardless of how much a part of him may have wished. To feel anger towards Solheim only lessened him in his own eyes and those of Samara. It was only then that he caught sight of Arichu. His lips curled upwards a genuine smile gracing his lips and immediately he felt his two Reman bodyguards relax behind him. His eyes widened slightly, as he remembered that his Reman bodyguards were highly telepathic and as such reactive to his own emotional state.

Foolish. The last thing I need is for one of my Reman bodyguards to misinterpret my emotions as a desire for harm to come to Solheim.

He chided himself mentally as he took a step and then another, moving towards Arichu and Samara. Once he had crossed the distance between them he found himself speaking. "Riov Taev Eviess of the Terix sends his regards Riov Samara, Arrain Arichu."

A moment later he came to a stop before the assembled group and extended his right arm to Captain Solheim. "Thank you for keeping them and yourself alive Captain Solheim."

[rhoenix]

As the three arrived, the three figures, wearing relaxed-looking Starfleet uniforms appeared through the familiar starfield-effect used by most Starfleet transporters.

As the three walked, their differences became more striking. Captain Solheim himself was tall, especially for a human, standing 1.92 meters tall, with an athletic, though not bulky frame. His hair was a dark brown, had grown a bit long, and though worn short, was now hanging into his eyes. His eyes themselves were half-lidded in the manner of one who had grown used to not enough sleep. The irises of the eyes were slightly strange - both a vivid blue that seemed just slightly unnatural. Further examination would show a small scar at each temple and across his nose, as if to suggest that event caused him to have replacement eyes. His bearing was one who was quite willing to march into Hell to accomplish a mission, as perhaps after that he could rest. He wore the red uniform of the Command staff.

The female figure to his right stood only a few centimeters shorter than Captain Solheim. With her dark hair, somewhat tan-colored skin, dark eyes, and straight back, she appeared Vulcan, especially with the Starfleet uniform, that of red of Command. However, her hair was long, and woven into an intricate bun on the back of her head. Her figure was one that demanded men's attention, though the way she held herself advised caution. Though her hands were clasped behind her at the small of her back, her half-lidded stare was decidedly un-Vulcan, seeming to rake over one with a single glance, tearing one's most intimate armor away for that moment to show your true self to her - it was accounted for and noted as just another detail of her environment.

The female figure to his left was walking while reading a datapadd, apparently entirely uninterested in the planet. Her complexion was similar to her female companion's, though somewhat greener. Her hair was kept short, almost looking messy in a regular and attractive fashion. She was much shorter than her companions, and more slender; apparently not in as good of physical shape as the other two as well. She wore the yellow of the engineering sciences, and suddenly glanced up at hearing the Romulan Vaen of the S'harien's voice. "Uncle!" she perked up immediately, running directly at him.

"Swift! Wait..." Captain Solheim trailed off with a sigh. "How did you deal with her?" he asked, turning to his remaining female companion.

"Usually, I stunned her if she got too hyperactive," she replied with a shrug, as the two approached the Romulan contingent. After a moment, she turned back to the Captain with a smirk. "Very well, I had her run extra duty for a month. It worked... for about a month."

Captain Solheim smirked at this as they approached the Romulans. The Riov of the S'harien spoke up, looking at Captain Solheim appraisingly. "Riov Taev Eviess of the Terix sends his regards Riov Inzeti, Arrain Nevola," and finally turning to Captain Solheim himself, the Riov stared at him for a moment before continuing, extending his right arm as he did. "Thank you for keeping them and yourself alive Captain Solheim."

Replying first with a nod in return, Captain Solheim grasped the Romulan Riov's forearm with his own. "With such a crew, it is an honor to keep them well, Riov Kretak," he replied in Romulan. He glanced to his left, with both men seeing Lt. Commander Nevola still waiting very impatiently for her uncle's attention.

"Especially your niece," Captain Solheim continued with a barely-detectable smile. "If you recall, it was because of her that we rigged up restraint systems for the bridge. Federation-make inertial dampeners are good, but they aren't that good."

[General Havoc]

There was a soft glare as the artificial lights of the ship faded out, and the natural ones of the Nivoch star appeared. And when next Kalpov realized where he was, he was standing in an open field.

It wasn't even a tilled field, it was a literally open field, a bright green field covered in budding wildflowers and grass that was knee deep, ringed in by majestic trees that looked vaguely like oaks, but several times taller, courtesy of the .71G that prevailed on this planet. The sky was a blue so intense that it was almost overpowering, save on the western horizon, where the colony lay.

It was a nice looking colony, or at least it had been, sitting nestled in a river valley some dozen miles away before them. But what had once been a model colony of Federation workmanship and civic planning was now nothing more than the center of a vast shantytown, which ran the length of the entire valley and spilled up the sides of the mountains that ringed it. Smoke and haze rose from the temporary, cobbled buildings, some of which looked as though they'd been built from crashed or landed cargo ships, and about which tiny figures moved, just barely visible on the edge of perception. In the distance, a quartet of hover vehicles could be detected, leaving the sprawl of the shantytown and moving towards the field in which Commander Kalpov, Commander Ereshal, and Lt. Luthor stood.

"The Magistrate?" asked Luthor. He had already unslung his phaser rifle, an action so practiced and fluid that none of the others even noticed it anymore.

"If we're unlucky," responded Kalpov, looking around.

"And if we're lucky?"

"Then it's just a bunch of bandits coming to murder us. Faster that way."

Ereshal coughed deliberately, gesturing across the field to where a small group of people stood in clumps. Most were human, or at least looked human at this distance, though a small clump were plainly not. Romulans, of which at least one was dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Romulan Star Navy, flanked by a pair of what had to be Remans, armed in the manner of bodyguards or tactical assault troops.

"I guess they know each other already," said Ereshal, as one of the members of one group, another Romulan, ran towards the first group at full speed with what looked like (what Kalpov hoped was) friendly recognition. Kalpov glanced at his first officer, but the small Aenar said nothing extra. If she could sense anything else, she kept it to herself.

"Are they going to shoot us?" asked Kalpov.

An impish smile. "With your winning personality? Probably."

Behind them, Luthor coughed to cover his laugh. He failed. Intentionally.

"Just let me know if there's something I ought to be aware of," said Kalpov, "okay?"

"And stop you from making a fool of yourself?" The smile broadened into a full on grin. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Despite himself, Kalpov smiled as well as they walked towards the others. Though he and Ereshal both had variable-frequency phasers, they kept them holstered. They hadn't come here for a firefight. They just needed to talk.

"Greetings," said Kalpov as they approached, stopping some ten meters away from the others. "Hope we're not interrupting. I'm Commander Ivan Kalpov, USS Argonaut. This is Lt. Commander Fiy'at Ereshal, and Lt. Charles Luthor, my First and Tactical officers." He swept his gaze from figure to figure, hesitating perhaps a little longer on the Romulans. "On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, assuming you haven't been welcomed already, I've been asked to extend my greetings and welcome to Nivoch IV, such as it is."

He paused for a second, looking at his officers. Lt. Luthor was watching the proceedings in stony silence, his rifle held at his side in a position he no doubt deemed "casual". Ereshal looked more relaxed, telepathy would do that, and her vestigial, milky-white eyes rolled about as they always did in time with the nearly-invisible quiver of her forehead antennae. Aenar were all blind, but nonetheless capable of "sight" via a means that was not possible to describe in human terms, any more than they could conceive of what it was like to see with eyes. Kalpov had learned not to ask.

After months of disuse, he hoped his Universal Translator was working.

"May I ask whose Battlecruiser that is parked in orbit?" he asked the Romulans. He had a pretty good idea already, but in times like this, you never could tell.

[Cynical Cat]

"The Cardassian has iced his guns," said Arikel.

"And he's hailing us," said Aaveroke. "Standard polite greetings."

"Then drop shields and cool ours." Kadon grinned, showing his teeth. "We're all one big happy starfleet," he lied.

"Zan Aaveroke, coordinate with the surface about shore leave and the meeting. If they're short on space I'm sure the executive can find a place in the temperate zone that will have decent weather for the next few hours."

"I'm sure the one will manage," said Arikel. "It is a class M planet."

"Kallor, you will accompany me to the meeting. Arikel, the ship is yours."

"No guards?" asked Arikel.

"None. The meeting needs more, not less tension. Operations Leader your services will be required."

"This one will endeavour to serve," said Morizan.

"Rig Kallor and I up with a covert observation rig. We'll go over the data frame by frame if necessary. There's a lot being hidden."

"That need not be said," said Morizan. "They won't even know it is there."

"Good," said Kadon. "Walk with me. Arikel, the bridge is yours." Kadon left, walking past the Marine and into the corridor beyond.

"You wish to keep my presence secret," said Morizan. It wasn't a question.

"There are too many secrets and I need to know them all," said Kadon. "So I need you to find them and that will be easier if they do not know that an Operations Leader of Imperial Intelligence is digging them out. With Rish at the sensors, you may find many of them while we speak."

"So that's why you are leaving the one behind."

"The ship needs a steady hand and her blood can run Vulcan cold," said Kadon.

"And the Dahar Master?"

"I want him there to read their reaction and their eyes. Close up where they cannot hide, where they can see his gaze upon them and it will move them."

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

Two Klingons materialized out of a cloud of red lights. The younger one was taller, with a neat black goatee and short hair. He was light skinned and slim, by Klingon standards. He stood nearly two meters tall and his shoulders were broad. His uniform was plain, his armour adorned only com badge and house insignia. A mek'leth road on his left hip and a heavy disruptor pistol that was practically a slightly cut down rifle.

The other was just slightly shorter, but broader. His hair, beard, and mustaches were long and white. He carried a d'k tahg, a standard disruptor pistol, and a heavy machine pistol. A silvery metallic sash ran across his chest, studded with decorations and awards. At his neck was a silvery sphere marked in gold with angular klingonaase script and encircled by bladed curves.

They were at the edge of a field of knee length grass. A little distance away there were several members of Starfleet as well as Romulans with Reman guards. "Perhaps we should have brought the Marines," said Kallor.

"No," said Kadon. "Our position is stronger because we did not." He started walking towards them. Kallor followed.

[LadyTevar]

"You are sure of this?" Serin asked his captain as they stood on the transporters alone. "I do not understand why you insist on my presence."

"Because I want my best man with me," Eoife Kirk answered, tugging down the hem of her uniform. At least it wasn't the one-piece leotard from her ensign days. They had always been too skin-tight for her to feel comfortable. "Besides, didn't James Kirk always have Spock at his side?" she added with a grin that she didn't feel.

Serin looked at her calmly, though she knew his mind was working out the puzzle quickly. "You mean to act the part of Captain Kirk which you hate."

Eoife grimaced. "You saw the looks of some of the captains before they replied. They heard "Kirk" and they are thinking... maybe hoping... for a miracle."

"And when you cannot give them one?"

Eoife looked down, stepping up onto the transporter pad. "I'm working on that."

*****

((Continued later))

[Agent Fisher]

Katara

Gul Tarka looked to Sorak. "Approach the planet, put us into orbit. Mind the others, wouldn't want to offended them by getting to close." He ordered the helmsman.

"Yes, Gul." He responded.

Tarka looked over to his friend and XO. "Datav, you have the ship. I'm taking Markat down with me. If any Borg show up, fight them as best you can, and if more than a cube shows, cloak and evade back to Bajor." He ordered and turned, walking from the bridge, his ADC following him.

******

In a haze of orangish light, Gul Tarka and Glin Markat appeared on the surface. Tarka grinned, taking in a deep breath. It had been months since htey had been off the ship.

He looked over to the others, Federation, Romulans, Remans, Klingons. They just need a Ferengi and they might have the start of a bad joke. Waving Markat along, Tarka began walking towards the clump of Captains.

[Dark Silver]

U.S.S. Heritage
Alpha Quadrant, Enroute to the Bajor System

Captain's Log - Stardate: 75589.1

The Heritage is enroute to the Bajor system, where the scattering of comm traffic we've been able to pick up these last several weeks indicates that any surviving ships in the sector are gathering. It's been months since we've last seen a friendly ship that isn't a spaced wreck, so the crew is undoubtedly looking forward to the chance to talk to other living beings. On the medical side, Doctor Kaiser has informed me that Ensign Debrius is expecting, and the father is apparently our Romulan navigator Nevus. Remind me to find a cigar at our next Port of Call.

Ships status remains the same as always, Chief Engineer Joos'an reminded me that we need to put into Space Dock for a refit of the engines. I calmly explained to him that if he could find me a Star Base capable of doing the repairs, I'd gladly set the course myself. He hasn't stopped looking at astrogation charts for the past three standard weeks.


Alvin Thibodeaux sat in his chair in the Ready Room, feet propped up on the desk, in a position to take a nice nap, now that he had been caught up on his logs. He hadn't had a chance to get a decent night's sleep in months, and these mid-shift cat naps he took when there was nothing otherwise pressing"Bridge to Captain."

The sweet voice of his second in command, Commander Decoursey, reached his ears through the comm. system. She was more than his XO she may as well been his fiancee, the love of his life. They had planned to get married, had joked about it often still. Now, well, they were going to wait to see how this living hell turned out, before they went through with that.

"What do you have for me Nancie?" Slowly, as he spoke, he rose from the chair, straightening out his uniform top, and cracked his neck. 'I could use a cup of coffee.....and a shave. Defiantly a shave,' he thought.

"We're about half a hour from the Nivoch system at our present speed, no sign of Borg ships within scanner range, though since their half patched with shoe shine and dreams, we can't get more than a couple light-years range. No idea what Bajor looks like. Though we are picking up a significant number of ships from Nivoch. Hard to get transponder readings at the moment, but we're detecting Federation energy signitures."

Rubbing his eyes, Allen looked in the mirror, confirming he did in fact, need a shave, though the bags under his eyes confirmed he needed a good night sleep more.

Maybe when they linked up with other Federation ships...

"Half a hour huh? A'ight, I'll be on the bridge in a second. What's the Medical report from Kaiser?"

"Corporal Maktog was admitted with some lacerations and a broken leg, he was brought in by Lt Hallsway. Holly said his leg would be repaired in a hour or two, but she doesn't want to rush things at the moment."

"Odd...she usually can't wait to get me out of Sickbay...."

"If you wouldn’t be such a ass..."

"Hey now...watch it or I'll put you on KP" His tone was joking, even as he said it. His crew was about as informal as you could get on a Star Fleet vessel, a result of spending way to much time together with such a small crew. Everyone knew each other, everyone was comfortable with each other, and half the crew was sleeping with the other half. He always made himself accessible to his crew, he knew they instinctively looked up to him, all crews look up to their Captain.

"I'll be on the bridge in fifteen minutes. I need a cup of coffee."

"Yes Sir" that sweet voice ranged to him, before the comm. system cut off. Alvin walked over to the replicator, and placed his order for a strong cup of coffee with cream and sugar, and walked back to his chair to drink it.

-----

Fifteen minutes later, with a strong cup of coffee in his system, Captain Thibodeaux walked through the parted doors of his Ready Room and onto his bridge, proceeded by the blaring of the Red Alert klaxons and the automatic dimming of the bridge lights.

"What the hell is that!" he shouted as the doors parted for him, the rest of the crew didn't seem all that bothered by it, aside from Lt Cumpston at his tactical station, kicking the console.

"Don't know, damn thing just went to Red Alert. Sensors had a few ghost popping up, but that was subspace echos from out Warp Drive. I checked with Joos'an. I tried shutting it down, but the god damn computer must be going senile, because it says we're at Alert Status; Green!"

"COMPUTER," Thibodeaux shouted, "Silence Red alert klaxons!"

"Red Alert Status not initiated. Current Condition: Green."

Thibodeaux groaned, as he walked to the command chair, as Commander Decoursey lounged in it, fingers in her ear and humming to herself, a large grin on her full lips. For a moment, he almost did the same thing, before stalking over to the secondary Ops station, and punched in a few commands. Seconds later, the lights were restored, and the klaxons had ceased.

"I swear to God, what I wouldn't give for new Computer cores..."

Nancie laughed a full, throaty laugh, before getting out of the command chair, "Well, Add that to your wish list, Joos'an was up here complaining about the Warp Core again. He says it won't make Bajor in it's current shape."

"Tell him I'll buy him a bottle of Bloodwyne when we reach Deep Space Nine if he keeps the ship going till then."

"Already done love," her term of endearment brought a few sniggers from the bridge crew. The Captain though, bore them in the good hearted nature it was meant.

"We're within sensor range of the Nivoch System, Captain," Ensign Travis spoke up from the Sensor station, "Picking up Federation, Klingon, Romulan and......Cardassian Warp signitures. They all seem to be clustered around Nivoch IV."

Alvin sat in his chair, crossed one knee over the other and leaned back, pondering this information. He pulled out the PADD which sat in a pocket of his seat, and pulled up the computer core's information on Nivoch IV.

Class M planet, Gravity of .71, Federation farming colony, no real defenses. Admittedly, the information would be out of date by now...but the planet seemed like a nice enough place, and there were other ships there. All the more reason to stop by, the crew could use some planet time before Bajor anyway.

"Adjust course for the Nivoch system, increase speed to Warp 7. Nancie, prepare a rotation schedule for Shore Leave. Unless there's something more pressing going on in that system, I think we can all use some time planet side - if the governor of Nivoch IV will be so kind to grant it."

-----------

USS Heritage
Entering Nivoch System, under Impulse

"Approaching the Nivoch system, approaching outer solar gravity well - dropping to Impulse in three...two...one...Impulse Drive engaged."

The Heritage shuddered through her hull as the Warp drive disengaged and the ship went to sub-light.

"Sensors indicate all ships have entered the orbit of Nivoch IV, Alvin. Looks to be four Star Fleet ships, a Klingon Vorcha class Cruiser, a Romulan Valdore, and a Cardassian Keldon. The Keldon and the Valdore have some strange readings coming off of them, but without doing a more indepth scan, couldn't tell you what the mods are."

"Any ID on the Federation ships?"

"Negative Captain."

"Alright, let's hope they don't mind us party crashing. Helm, set course for Nivoch IV, nice and leisurely. Open hailing frequencies, Audio and Visual channels, all general channels and aim them at the planet."

Alvin waited for the nod, before clearing his throat, straightening up in his chair, and speaking, "This is Captain Alvin Thibodeaux of the U.S.S. Heritage. Our apologies for dropping in unannounced, but we were hoping you might be able to spare a little room for weary travelers."

[Marcao]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, Nivoch IV

The differences between the assembled representatives of the Gilgamesh were not lost upon him. The human captain was nearly his height although he was lacking in many other departments. Still, when Captain Solheim grasped his forearm and he nodded and reciprocated. A part of him always wanted to find a flaw to note or a weakness to exploit, but the truth was that Captain Solheim was making that exceedingly difficult. He arched a brow when his lips parted and the language of his people tumbled from his lips. It was not without flaw, but it was surprisingly proficient. His head turned and he glanced towards Samara at his side for a moment before returning to the Human. "Your Romulan is quite good Captain. You must have an excellent tutor."

It was then that he noticed Arrain Nevola waiting impatiently for what seemed to be his attention. His arm withdrew from that of Solheim as his attention naturally gravitated to his last surviving blood relative. At least, as far as he knew. "Lacendt Arichu." He said fondly, he had referred to her thus the first time he had seen her. It was his first memory of her. "You continue to change and grow, but I still remember you." He admitted, his left hand reaching out in order to brush briefly against a few strands of her hair. "I have something for you. It was a gift to your ri'nanov but I feel you should have it." It was unlikely that his ia'rinam was still alive. His left hand disappeared into a pocket and retrieved a gemstone the size of a human child's fist. It was flat a deep green color, similar to what humans called an Emerald. The stone was without flaw and had been mined at great expense in the Reman home world. Within the stone when looked at closely, Romulan letters had been printed probably through the usage of a very precise laser or other implement. The full names of her mother and father were presents as was her own. The purpose of the stone seemed to be both ornamental and a reminder of the linking of ties between house Cretak and house Nevola. It was only after the gem shaped like a multi-faceted disk was given to Arichu that he answered her Captain's comment.

His eyes found those of Solheim as he nodded. "My niece has always possessed a talent for pushing the envelope on nearly everything she does. She almost failed a class in the academy because her teacher did not believe that she was a prudent enough Romulan." He hesitated for a moment, letting those words sink in. "She was able to overcome her teacher's concerns because she was really as good as she thought she was." The first time that he had allowed Arichu to fly a small and agile Romulan flier named after the Mogai had been the last. He simply did not have the stomach to keep with her talent. "You are fortunate to have her onboard. Your ship is one of the few that I can imagine brings her any joy to pilot." The Defiant and her sisters were unique in his experience. Only a Jem'Hadar fighter craft came close to such a vessel in terms of maneuverability and speed. Having Arichu piloting a D`Deridex would have been a crime against her spirit.

Throughout the exchange between Riov Galan Cretak and the assembled members of the crew of the USS Gilgamesh, his Reman bodyguards remained as still as statues. To any apparent onlooker, it would be readily obvious that the relationship that existed between the two ships was far more than simply casual. The S'harien and the Gilgamesh officers seemed very comfortable around each other. When the representatives of the Federation approached, a subtle shift occurred. The Remans were the first to react, twin heads turning in almost unison their eyes sliding over the approaching Federation officers wordlessly. They did not move, they did not even seem to breathe. After taking the measure of the approaching personnel, their attention lingered.

He felt a familiar tingling on the back of his head and forced himself to look away from his niece and glanced over his shoulder mere moments before the Federation officer that seemed to lead his delegation spoke. His eyes settled on those of the man as he stopped a very polite distance away. The man was being polite and that demanded politeness in turn. When Commander Kalpov spoke, he listened. The universal translator did an admirable job of conveying the man's words. When the man asked about the S'harien he took it upon himself to answer.

"Commander Kalpov, it is a pleasure to finally see the man in command of the guard ship of Nivoch IV." He said in the language of the Federation. He had been trained on the human language extensively since his days of the Imperial War College. "These are my companions, Yvelth and Uliyat." As he spoke the name of each Reman, the bodyguard nodded his head in response. "My name is Riov Galan Cretak and I command the S'harien." He said simply. He had been its commander since the moment it had been built. His lips parted, words beggining to form when the manifestation of red energy at the edge of his vision caught his interest.

His head turned slightly, leaving Commander Kalpov and focusing on the cloud of red lights that disappeared as quickly as they came. The two men that were transplanted on the world from the Vor'cha class cruiser above were immediately measured. Klingons and Romulans had a great deal of history. Not all of it had been good, but he unlike many of his peers had perceived the races and warriors of the Klingon Empire with some interest. The information on the Riskadh was not as in depth as he would have wished, but the ship did more than simply survive. Anyone could survive by avoiding fighting, but the Klingons had fought. Their Empire had burned around them but nearly every man, woman and child had fought. The Riskadh was not the Katara. It had plunged itself time and time again into the fires of conflict against the Borg and it had endured.

It was a tribute to their fire. A testament to their will to win.

His eyes flickered back towards Commander Kalpov intimately aware that it was not polite to stare. He wanted to see how the Federation officer would handle the arrival of the Klingons. His head turned, as another anomaly caught his interest the orange light depositing two Cardassians. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.

This would be the infamous Gul Tarka then.

As the Cardassians approached his attention focused on their betters. It would take a great deal of time and even larger feats of heroism in battle for the crew of the Katara to be warranted an ounce more of respect than a Klingon child was alloted. A Klingon child could after all fight. They had proven that against the Borg more than once. Gul Tarka had yet to do so.

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, Orbit of Nivoch IV
IRW S'harien

"Ship entering the system Erei'Riov." The sensor officer called out.

"Name?" Hanaj Dar responded.

"USS Heritage. She is hailing us." replied the communication officer.

"Show me."

The visual image of the human captain as he sat on his chair dominated the primary display on the bridge as he introduced himself and announced his intentions.

"Should we respond?" The communication officer asked.

"There are four Federation ships in the system. Let the USS Argonaut respond." Hanaj decided.


---------

Glossary of terms:

lacendt: little
erei'riov: sub-commander
ri'nanov: mother
ia'rinam: older sister

[LadyTevar]

Nivoch IV
Meeting Site

The familiar hum of a Federation transporter buzzed as the glowing columns appeared and deposited Eoife Kirk and Serin into the grassy meadow chosen as the meeting place.

For a moment, Eoife closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath of un-recycled air. Sunlight shown down on her dirty-blond hair, highlighting reddish undertones that ship's lights hid. She was short, 5ft7 in the low heels wore by Federation. The red and black jacket emphasized the shipboard pale skin.

At her side was a taller man with hair nearly the shade of the grass around them. The mixed ancestry was obvious -- Orion, maybe human, although the Federation regulation cut of his hair revealed slight points to his ears. He stood with the characteristic poise of a Vulcan, hands being his back, taking in everything calmly.

"Here we go," Eoife whispered, walking towards the gathering crowd of officers.

[rhoenix]

"Your Romulan is quite good Captain. You must have an excellent tutor," Riov Kretak said, looking at Captain Solheim, and glancing at Commander Inzeti for just a moment.

Captain Solheim gave a wry grin. "I will admit that my Romulan is better than my Klingon at this point. Most of it I learned before this whole mess happened. I worked often near Romulan and Klingon space, so I picked up both."

The Riov nodded at this as he turned away to give his niece his full attention for a few moments. In those moments, the Romulan mask of implacable scrutiny was replaced by a softer smile as the two talked quietly in Romulan. Captain Solheim gave them their space, staring off into the undeveloped field that was their landing spot. Commander Inzeti gently nudged his hip with hers as she walked forward, returning his attention to the present, just in time to see Riov Cretak turn back away from his niece, and to Captain Solheim once more.

Riov Kretak's eyes looked directly into those of Solheim's as he nodded. "My niece has always possessed a talent for pushing the envelope on nearly everything she does. She almost failed a class in the academy because her teacher did not believe that she was a prudent enough Romulan." He hesitated for a moment, letting those words sink in. "She was able to overcome her teacher's concerns because she was really as good as she thought she was."

The Romulan Captain appeared to remember something, a small, rueful smile on his face as he did, before returning his attention to the matter at hand "You are fortunate to have her onboard. Your ship is one of the few that I can imagine brings her any joy to pilot."

At this, Captain Solheim chuckled. "I would say 'you have no idea,' but you have a very good idea. Remember the Captain of that Orion ship that I managed to disable and shake the info about their R&R base? You never asked how I found out, so I will tell you now - it wasn't with water or electricity or sharp objects," began Captain Solheim, a small smile beginning to grow on his face.

"All I had to do was tie him into the Captain's chair of the bridge, so he got an excellent view of the viewscreen. I then turned off the inertial dampeners, gave your niece a double-strong, double-sweet Raktajino, and had her run full combat maneuvers. He cracked in under two minutes," he chuckled quietly.

"Come on, that ship practically begs for it," Swift remarked with a grin. "I'm sorry, but the d'Deridex drives like a garbage scow - being able to sneak up on someone and scare the living daylights out of them now and then doesn't really make up for it."

"And this would be why you always want the long shifts, I take it?" asked Commander Inzeti, raising a concerned eyebrow, and hiding a smile.

"Oh yes," replied Swift with a dreamy grin on her face. "I've flown fightercraft that were slower and less maneuverable than the Gilgamesh. I love that ship - it even looks like it was designed by a Romulan."

"Maybe," replied Captain Solheim, turning as he heard the Captain of the Argonaut, "it would explain why she took to the cloak so easily."

"Greetings," said Kalpov as they approached, stopping some ten meters away from the others. "Hope we're not interrupting. I'm Commander Ivan Kalpov, USS Argonaut. This is Lt. Commander Fiy'at Ereshal, and Lt. Charles Luthor, my First and Tactical officers." He swept his gaze from figure to figure, hesitating perhaps a little longer on the Romulans. "On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, assuming you haven't been welcomed already, I've been asked to extend my greetings and welcome to Nivoch IV, such as it is."

Captain Solheim replied with a nod of respect. "It is good to see you, Captain Kalpov. I understand it was primarily due to your arrangements that allowed for this to occur - so, I give you my thanks."

The Captain nodded at this, and narrowed his eyes slightly, as if searching for the most polite way to ask a question. "May I ask whose Battlecruiser that is parked in orbit?" he asked the Romulans, after another moment.

Captain Solheim managed to keep a straight face with visible effort. Commander Inzeti's response was to suddenly have a coughing fit. Lt. Commander Nevola, however, was far less restrained, erupting into a fit of snickering that rapidly turned into giggles.

Their attention was drawn by the sounds of transporters in three separate areas. As the sounds of transporters whirred around them, all three crewmates of the Gilgamesh automatically turned and reached for the disruptors tucked into the wasitband at the small of their backs, all three relaxing visibly once their forms resolved into non-Borg.

Two armed Klingons arrived in sparkling tones of orange and blood red, flowing like blood as their forms resolved. The two appeared to confer quietly in Klingon, and then march as only Klingons could toward the greater gathering.

The second arrival appeared within intricate swirls of yellowish light, revealing two fully-dressed Cardassians speaking with one another quietly, and then walking toward the greater gathering as well.

The third arrival appeared within Starfleet starfield-like sparkles, resolving into a female human wearing the uniform of command, and her companion, also wearing the red uniform of command. He appeared to carry himself like a Vulcan, despite his green hair, speaking quietly with his companion before themselves walking toward the rest.

Just then, Captain Solheim's commbadge chirped. "Lieutenant Adranis to Captain Solheim. Captain, I'm reading an incoming ship," Lieutenant Adranis reported. Captain Solheim was privately amused at the expected reaction from Riov Kretak once he heard Adranis' voice. "Starfleet, Hephaestus-class. Passive scans show no Borg presence, registry shows as USS Heritage. Your orders, sir?"

Captain Solheim tapped his commbadge to reply. "Hold position, and continue passive scans of all ships in the area. Send them a standard hail, and direct them to the Argonaut for further information."

"Aye, sir. Adranis out," his tactical officer replied, the line going silent.

"A truly unlikely gathering," Commander Inzeti said quietly, crossing her arms as she observed the others. "It will be interesting to see what the next few hours bring."

[SirNitram]

In the Nivoch system, a ship dropped out of warp. She was big; easily a Heavy Cruiser class. But it was clearly not a Borg ship, nor any from a non-Federation ally. The massive hull of a Galaxy-Class drifted into the system at quarter-impulse.

"This is Captain Markson to Nivoch Space Command and assembled vessels. This is the USS Vigilance requesting permission to enter orbit. Here in system for preplanned nutrient pickup for replicators, water pickup, and some fresh air for no more than 36 standard hours."

All business, that was this Captain. If he found the gathering odd, he didn't speak, but the ship was already sweeping sensors over them for potential trouble. "Quite the assembly.." He murmured. "Deep, see if you can get us in a good orbital position to shield this gathering from any Borg incursion until they're ready."

*Alright, alright.* The synthesized voice of the dolphin nav-specialist murmured.

[Marcao]

Alpha Quadrant
Nivoch System, Nivoch IV

It was strange but here surrounded by Samara and Arichu he felt remarkably at ease. Even the humans aside from all their failings did not seem quite so flawed as he had imagined. He had been raised in the Romulan way and yet over time, his perceptions had been shaped by his experiences. In his heart, he could not deny that the Romulan way was the best way. In his heart, he could not deny that his people had been the greatest to have walked amongst the stars. The Empire had not at times possessed the greatest technology, the Borg and to a lesser extent the Federation had proved that. Even the Klingons had their own surprises, but culturally and perhaps most important of all spiritually no other people had deserved their place amongst the stars more than the Romulans.

It was that knowledge that kept him going. It was that fact that made him and his fight even in the face of the odds arrayed against them. Nonetheless, his perceptions of humanity and the federation had subtly began to change as the years had turned to decades. They went from mere adversaries, suitable for either being conquered or the last gasp of oblivion to something else. When he had graduated from the Imperial War College, he would have laughed at the idea that he would take pleasure in the company of any member of the Federation.

Even Solheim is growing on me. His treatment of his Romulan crew has been excellent and he has earned the respect of them all.

His eyes were drawn to the arrival of the latest batch of Federation personnel. His eyes focusing on the woman first, she was short much shorter than he had expected. His eyes slid over her as he sought to discern her resemblance to her famous ancestor. In the end, he was uncertain about what he saw. He had never met Captain Kirk personally of course, but the man was notorious and to an extent vilified by many members of the Empire.

If this woman is from his bloodline, then I expect that she will have many things to prove.

The taller man to her side drew his attention then. The mixed ancestry was obvious, the posture and mannerisms clarified the other half of his lineage. Vulcans were a point of contention to many of his kin but the truth could not be denied. Vulcans were wayward cousins who had sacrificed too much to nurture their reason. They had not had an Empire to lose, but they felt the loss of so many of their own as keenly as any Romulan. It had been this fact that had led to his allowing Vulcans to join his crew. When the pair had approached closely enough he spoke. His Reman bodyguards standing akin to statues behind him.

"Captain Kirk, a pleasure that you could join us." He stated in a nearly perfect rendition of the language of the Federation.

[General Havoc]

Two Klingons beamed down, looking grim and fell-handed as only Klingons could look. Moments later, two Cardassians in full officerial regalia followed. There were no points awarded for guessing whose ship was whose.

Captain Cretak was the first to answer, and did so in Federation standard, which raised an eyebrow. Though times had changed abruptly, it was not long ago that most people had relied purely on the Universal Translator to communicate. Kalpov wished he knew any Romulan, but his linguistic skills had atrophied long ago, and so he let his comm badge's translator do the talking for him.

"It's good to meet you, Captain," he said, speaking just a shade slower than usual so that the Universal Translator would have time to keep up. "A ship of your caliber is always welcome. We didn't know there were any still left."

Instantly, he regretted saying that, but forced himself to give no sign. Romulans were not children, and they themselves knew how rare it was to see a Valdore nowadays. He'd heard through scuttlebut that there was one at Bajor, but the class had been rare even before the war, and with the thoroughness that the Borg had demonstrated in annihilating Romulus and her empire, that much was a miracle.

All of their ships were miracles.

Captain Solheim of the Gilgamesh walked over next, introducing himself, before signaling back to his own ship that the Argonaut would be handling traffic in orbit above. Out of the corner of his eye, Kalpov saw Ereshal laugh, and Luthor wince. He could scarcely imagine the chaos that had to be happening aboard Argonaut right now, but there was nothing for that. He had more or less appointed himself guardship.

"Captain Kirk, a pleasure that you could join us."

Kalpov turned and saw a young woman approaching with Captain's rank, accompanied by what looked like a cross between an Orion and a Vulcan. Like everyone else, probably, he automatically looked for some resemblance to James Kirk, and wasn't sure if he found it or not. It wasn't like anyone here had known the original Kirk, save from history books and videos. He saw Ereshal watching Kirk carefully, but if she could tell anything, she made no sign.

"Captain," said Kalpov, letting it sound somewhat deferential, and leaving it open as to which captain he was addressing. These people technically outranked him after all, and the more technical you got, the more they did so. He did not go so far as to salute however. These were uncertain times, and he was not about to start taking tactical orders from officers he'd never met, not even if their names were Kirk.

As the rest of the beamed-down officers began to congregate, Commander Kalpov glanced back towards the aircars, still approaching, and now resolved to a discernible size. He turned back, trying to gauge something from the mess of subdued reactions, and spoke plainly.

"The colony officials weren't expecting this many ships," he said to the assembled captains and officers. "Neither was I, really. They're going to want to know who's in charge up there, and whose responsible for keeping us all in line. My ship was here first, but I'm not about to dictate to the rest of you, and I don't have the rank to back it up. I don't want to put any of you on the spot, but I strongly suggest we decide on what to tell them before they show up."

*-----------------------------------------------*

"USS Heritage, this is the USS Argonaut acknowledging your transmission. Plenty of room around this planet, pick a geosync berth and slide into the pattern."

There was the crackle of static before another voice joined in on the comm channel.

"Belay that, USS Heritage, this is Nivoch traffic control. We do not, repeat, we do not have the facilities to support additional ships or ground crews at this time. We cannot accommodate. Request you move along to Bajor or one of the other - "

"Heritage, this is Argonaut," the voice sounded annoyed now, "I have instructions here from Commander Ivan Kalpov requesting that all Federation ships proposing to proceed to Bajor join orbit and beam down to the following coordinates."

"Belay Heritage, this is Nivoch control. Those coordinates have not been approved by transit control, and we cannot issue authorization to enter a holding pattern. We have no capacity to accommodate at this time - "

"There's a damned war on, Nivoch control. You can take your authorization and - "

"Sir," came the voice of the sensor officer. "I show another ship entering the sector. Incoming transmission:"

"This is Captain Markson to Nivoch Space Command and assembled vessels. This is the USS Vigilance requesting permission to enter orbit. Here in system for preplanned nutrient pickup for replicators, water pickup, and some fresh air for no more than 36 standard hours."

"USS Vigilance, this is Nivoch space control, we are currently overstaffed with visiting ships. We will fit you into the pattern as soon as - "

"Vigilance, this is the USS Argonaut. Welcome to the Nivoch system. I've been authorized to ask you to join Commander Kalpov and the rest of the captains at the following coordinates. Commander Kalpov has been authorized to - "

"Commander Kalpov doesn't have the authority to direct you or anyone else to the Men's room. Please hold while we clear the pattern for incoming vessels."

"There's an entire planet down there, Nivoch control, I think the helmsmen can avoid colliding with one another at thousand klick distances. We don't have all day to sit around and wait for you people to decide how to make the fung shui work up here."

"Argonaut, this is a traffic direction channel! Stop transmitting and let us work this out."

"Heritage, Vigilance, this is Leutenant Joral'vec of the USS Argonaut. Whatever traffic control thinks, I've been ordered to direct you down planetside as soon as possible, assuming that your ultimate destination is Bajor. You can do so as soon as you're in transporter range, or you can wait for Nivoch control to sort out which end of the planet is north."

To say the least, there appeared to be some confusion in orbit...