Episode 4: "Fidelis Servorum"

--Somewhere in the Beta Quadrant--

Within the dark confines of a small alien craft stood two heavily built reptilian creatures, green slit eyes locked in poisonous disagreement.

“How do we know they won't simply turn us in like the others?” One snapped at the other, “These primates can't be trusted!”

“Venar Cal,” The second reptilian lowered his head in the placating gesture of their kind, “You have listened to the same transmissions I have. These are different, they do not seem to follow the Doctrine of their people. Perhaps they will help.”

“So naïve Belem.” Cal shrugged, “For all we know it could be a trap laid to get the one who got away.”

Belem nodded, “That is a possibility, remote though it may be. They seem more occupied with planning some kind of attack upon their own home world.”

“I didn't hear any such transmission. How did you learn of this?”

Belem sighed, “I was intrigued by their disregard for established Doctrine. I skipped rest cycle to monitor so more.”

“Why would they ever wish to do such a thing?”

“I did not get much. They do vehemently disagree with their own government, enough that they wish to take up arms against them.”

Cal took a moment to consider this new data. To him Doctrine was the unshakable fabric which held the tattered remnants of his race together, though it had changed over recent years it was still the driftwood that prevented their sinking to oblivion. It seemed almost unthinkable to consider disagreeing with it, let alone engaging in armed conflict against it.

“This is why I believe we should make contact,” Belem pressed home his newfound advantage, “They could help us.”

“Perhaps,” Cal hummed, “After all, what does the last two free members of our people have to lose by trusting a vessel named as this one is?”

In unison both Cal and Belem turned to face the bright blue lit viewscreen, upon which a Federation Sovereign Class ship dominated. Big black lettering, illuminated proudly from the upper deck superstructure, announced her name – Redemption.

* * *

---Redemption Holodeck One---

Admiral Wood sat alone at a round table, camouflaged by a humming throng of patrons who were at his favorite holographic establishment to do exactly what he was doing – unwind. A handful of other tables were buzzing with conversation which was drowned out by The Bronze's guest band passionately playing upon the stage. He rapped his fingers upon the side of a glass of Beer in time with the tune, a rock song called 'Up from the Ashes' by The Letter Black. The lyrics really summed up what was on his mind, stoking the fires deep within his soul that burned for what he was preparing to do against his own Government.

Sooner rather than later he would lead his modest following against the most heavily defended planet in the Federation, all in the audacious hope of rescuing those Carpathia had imprisoned simply for standing for what the Federation actually means. It was surreal that only three weeks ago he was in danger of becoming one of those prisoners, snatched from a comfortable semi-retirement to become a fugitive. Now he was leading what the Federation news service had dubbed a 'rebellion'.

That was where things got complicated. This rebellion only had 29 ships to its name, while Carpathia's government still had thousands of Starfleet vessels ready to serve. They didn't even have a place to from which to conduct operations like this the one he was working on. Famous names on the roster – like Enterprise, Voyager, Challenger and Bellerophon – wouldn't make for a fat lot of difference if things really kicked off. That being said a grin still crossed his features thinking about the sheer cheek which Voyager had shown in her escape, albeit minus her former Captain.

Was he crazy for even thinking he could take his meagre offering, without support or a home, to stand in front of Earth and wave the birdie? Maybe the commander at Rourke's Drift thought the same thing as word arrived of the Zulu horde marching their way. He took a deep swig of his drink.

“Figures you'd be hanging out in this old haunt,” A familiar voice spoke into his ear, “Some habits just aren't worth giving up, eh?”

Wood shook his head with a smile. Gotta love modern communication technology, “You'd know Janice. You introduced me to it.”

Janice Richards sat in the seat opposite and leaned close so they could hear one another, “Once more with Feeling. Good times.”

“Except that one.”

“That's why I keep trying to get you to play it,” She flashed him a wink, “A little musical never hurt anyone.”

“What we're doing now will though.”

The wide grin on Janice's face vanished in an instant, “Yeah. That's why I'm here.”

“Bad news?”

“Depends on which part. Everything's in place for you – that's the good bit.”

Wood smiled appreciatively at his friend, “Thanks for that.”

A silence fell between them as Janice swallowed back the urge to blurt out that she'd do anything for him. She knew from long years of trying to be noticed in 'that way' he just didn't see her beyond a cherished friend. Small comfort, “Anything for a friend,” She broke the silence before it became awkward, “Bad news is the Carpathia cronies in the Admiralty are stoked about something. They're not saying exactly what but words like 'crushing advantage' and 'unexpected breakthrough' are being thrown around in conversation. It's smug on a whole new level.”

That worried Wood, “And I'll bet the Chief hasn't told them exactly what that is, has he?”

Richards mournfully shook her head.

“Clock's ticking to midnight. Damn.”

She moved her seat closer to his, placing an arm over his shoulder for reassurance. He forced a smile and returned the gesture, evolving it into a comforting side hug that lasted for several joyful minutes. When the embrace broke, Richards got to her feet.

“I need to go before they trace this to you,” She said, “Just give me the word and my guys and I will do our part.”

“Thanks Janice.” Wood smiled at her as her holographic image winked out of existence, “You always had a knack for brightening my day.”

Things were coming to a head too quickly. He wasn't going to be able to wait much longer, which meant making do with what he had - which wasn't enough. Only 29 ships could be expected to join his on a mission to Earth. The Home Fleet alone had 115. As much as he wanted to build up more support - go in with more ships - he felt that opportunity was passing him by.

What he needed now was a breakthrough. Something that would at least get them through the gates of the most heavily guarded planet in the Quadrant.

He left The Bronze and headed for his Ready Room. It was time to work some magic.

[Tag all - rumors are flying. Everyone's getting itchy!]

== USS Redemption ==
== Admiral’s Ready Room ==
 
Thrack had just enough time to shower and change into a uniform. That was the miracle of replicators; they could do almost anything… except take the itch out of a rigid new uniform. Still, that was little compared to what he had just gone through. He was happy to be off the Grace and out of that little jail cell, even though several of Redemption’s crewmembers were none too happy at his presence. Several even seemed to go for weapons before they realized a) they weren't carrying any and b) he was in a Starfleet Uniform.
 
Still, he had a job to do and that meant meeting with Admiral Wood. As he exited the turbolift on the bridge, the bridge crew seemed to notice but the security officers seemed to really watch him.
 
“Back to your jobs, people, there are more dangerous foes out there.” Without stopping he made his way to Admiral Wood’s Ready Room. He rang the chime to announce his presence.
 
It’s funny, he thought. I think that I might have even fired a shop at this ship during the Dominion War. I wondered if I killed anyone on the ship. “It is, was it is”, he said to no one in particular.
 
Wood was busy poring over schematics of Earth's defenses and the Home Fleet's most recent order of battle when Thrack chimed. PADDs were laid out in neat rows on his desk, each one positioned according to their content for easy use. He put down one particularly interesting report - regarding a prototype ship of the Jupiter Class -and called out, "Come in!"
 
Thrack entered the Ready Room. "Marine Captain Thrack reporting as ordered sir." Glancing up, he was able to see what the Admiral was looking at. "Ah Earth defenses... Stormin' the castle are we Admiral?"
 
It didn't come as a huge surprise to the Admiral that this Cardassian officer was observant and direct. It was, after all, a trait of his species. He glanced down at the PADD and met Thrack's gaze, 'Eventually, there's far too many good people imprisoned there. Have a seat Captain."
 
He waited for Thrack to sit down, eager to see what kind of impression this Officer would make for himself, "So," he said, "This may take a while. Drink?"
 
Thrack sat down. "Cardassian Kanar if you have it... and I would prefer the vintages from Bajor. Their soil really is better for that than Cardassia." Once he received his drink, Thrack took a swig and then set it down. "Shall we begin?" he asked. Upon arriving on the Redemption, he was debriefed on what he knew. If it wasn't for Dushall, he would have probably ended up in the brig.
 
Once it was known that he had tracked political prisoner movements on Earth... well that seemed to be useful information. Of course, Thrack wasn't one to just spout what he knew off to a lowly Lieutenant, so a meeting with Admiral Wood was in order. Thrack tilted his neck to the side until he could feel it pop.
 
"Okay, let's do this."
 
Wood settled into his seat and pulled up a PADD, clearing the display so he could take notes as the conversation progressed, "Lets," He said, "Why don't we start with the process. How did you discovered the Prisoner movements and track them without being detected?"
 
Thrack sat back and gauged Admiral Wood’s reaction. He probably wasn’t going to like much of what Thrack had to say.
 
“To be honest with you sir, I was caught, which is how I ended up in one of those torture prisons with Dushall, myself, but let’s not belabor THAT point.”
 
“Whether you like it or not, you can’t change the strips on a cat, as you Earthlings like to say. We have a saying that is similar on Cardassia, but I had two masters that I answered to. Again, whether you like it or not, that is immaterial, it was what it was. So even though everything you have in my file is true… I left Cardassia to join Starfleet and suffered through my fair share of abuse, I always answered back to Cardassian, not the Obsidian Order, mind you, but to a group of Senators that had several interests in how things were run on Earth. To tell you that they have their fingers in some politician’s pockets in the Federation shouldn’t be big news. Anyway, I only answered to them on situations that would not jeopardize my position… so it was mostly political.”
 
“Admiral Wood, I need you to understand and trust that I never gave away military secrets, troop movements, or ship assignments. I don’t know why, but it is important to me for you to believe that. I gauged the political climate of the Federation and reported back to my handlers.”
 
“You see, it had come to my handlers attention that how goes Earth, so goes the Federation and if Cardassia could anticipate their next moves politically, then Cardassia could put themselves in a position to block that move, or to join it ahead of the Federation. You follow best from in front, Admiral. That way your prey doesn’t know you are actually stalking him.”
 
Thrack pressed on regardless of the look on the Admiral’s face.
 
“At first, there wasn’t really anything but scuttlebutt and rumor. Then I began to get assigned away from Starship and Station duties and more towards Earth positions… or positions that wouldn’t keep me away from Earth too long. At first I thought it was that I was not trusted, but then I was informed that they wanted me close to Earth. The first year, I didn’t really get anything, but then I was station aboard the USS Adventine for security duty. They were light on security agents and they wanted Marine backup. Well it turned out that it as Senator M’resh from Caita. I pulled guard duty at night and that’s when I noticed that he had been tortured. Most humans don’t have the stomach for it and very few can do it right or recognize it. Being Cardassian, it stood out because it was very well done. A true master piece if you ask me. Anyway this Senator was ranting and raving, but he would have moments where he was lucid. He said that he had been tortured because he had opposed Carpathia in the Senate. It was some stupid law about conscripting civilians or such, very minor, but M’Resh had voted it down and was the most vocal about it.”
 
“Anyway, after we got back to Earth, I was assigned to see him to prison. It could be that I was thought to be amoral enough not to care, but while I was in there, I noticed the same thing had happened to several… actually most of the other prisoners.”
 
Now, being Cardassian and with my training, I can retain information visually. I started taking mental images on who I saw. After delivering the Senator, I spent my downtime, scouring news reports and senate hearings to see if the others might have been political. At that time, I never did hack any system… that would have given me away and for little or no gain. So I stuck with public records. You know, if you know what you are looking for, there is some astounding information that the Federation puts out there. Made my initial job so easy. Found out that several of the prisoners were politicial figures and most had either vetoed or opposed some idea of Carpathia’s. The interesting part, was that many of them were declared dead or missing… freak accident here, mugging gone wrong there. “
 
“From there, I dug into plans put forth by Carpathia, or his lackeys, and then dug down into the opposition. Not all were imprisoned. Some of their kids went missing and when they resurfaced, those figures would resign. That’s kinda childish but I guess effective with you humans.”
 
“From there I presented the information to my contact and asked for some highly illegal and sensitive equipment. That equipment allowed me to hack into any system I needed and from there I downloaded all prison records. I knew what I was looking for, but didn’t want to give it away, so I took it all. I then picked what I was looking for and then destroyed the device and the information. My intent was to get away from Earth and contact my handlers. They were to send a cloaked Galor Class Warship to pick me up, but I was caught before I could reach my destination.”
 
“Then I spent a refreshing vacation with some real amateurs trying to interrogate me. What a shame… one had some potential, but just damn amateurs. The infuriating part for them was that I would act like I was about to break and then just pass gas or crap myself and laugh. You humans need to really take lessons from us as far as breaking people goes. Total waste.”
 
“I escaped… played around with Admiral Reynolds, who is a douche canoe, by the way, and made it here.”
 
“So basically, what I have, up here”, finished Thrack, tapping his temple, “is the location of all prisons that are housing political prisoners who have opposed Carpathia at some point… even the prisons that no one knows about.”
 
Wood listened intently to what Thrack had to say, reserving judgement even at the frank and open admission of his complicity which many would have considered treason. This man was obviously capable, intelligent and extremely useful. Having him on-side would be nothing but advantageous.
 
"You don't strike me as a pushover Mister Thrack," Wood responded, choosing his words carefully, "And I don't think for a second you gave away any military secrets."
 
He left that bit at that. There was something to be said for showing a little faith in a person.
 
"You've done some seriously impressive work. I have a friend in Starfleet Intelligence who would kill to have an agent who achieved what you have," He took a breath, "That being said. There's a lot going on the homeworld that I find disturbing. Too many good people being locked up or killed. And Reynolds always was a pratt. It's good to know he's leading the main search efforts though, the guy is a superb organiser but a lousy strategist - gives us a home field advantage for the time being."
 
The cogs were palpably turning in the Admiral's mind, processing what Thrack had told him and using it to start groundwork on his plans against the Carpathia regime. Looking at this self-admitted double agent gave him an idea on that front.
 
"I intend to lead a mission to free those prisoners," Let that bombshell drop. He could see this got Thrack's attention, "But we lack the strength and support for an all-out assault on Earth or a coup d'etat. So we need to play this smart. Really smart - and I think you can be a real help there. The Union is hurting but obviously not out of the game. That hacking equipment is evidence of that, which makes me wonder if this technology is flexible enough to hack into the extremely advanced encryption protocols of - say - Starfleet's Red Band communications network, the one where they talk about all the really, really juicy stuff."
 
Thrack shifted his shoulders a bit as the Admiral explained his plan. “Let me just say, out of professional courtesy, that if I help you and you hang me out to dry, I will kill you personally, myself. If you are okay with that, then we should definitely get to work.”
 
The only thing that showed how eager Thrack was to get started was the gleam in his eye. The Red Band, was like a unicorn… always rumored to be out there, but nobody was able to actually put their hands on it. Holy Grail, Iconian Gateway, whatever, it was the most secure comm network used by the Federation.
 
Of course, Thrack thought, I would need to convince my handlers that I need another piece of equipment, but if I mention what it is for, I’m sure that they will be more than happy to give it to me. No one on Cardassia could turn down the chance to hack into Red Band. And that is the apple that would be dangled in front of his handlers.
 
“I’ll make the arrangements to have one delivered to me on one condition. I will need you to turn a blind eye to whatever you see when they arrive. If you can do this, you’ll have your device. Do we have a deal?”
 
A deal with the devil. Wood felt like he was selling part of his soul. The Red Band was the holiest of holies. Captains knew of it but were only given temporary access as and when it was needed. Flag Officers had access but their every word was scrutinized and documented. It carried some of the Federation's most important information to those who needed it. Since his arrest, Wood had been removed from the access list - but he needed to listen in. It would be a game-changing intelligence coup for his efforts to liberate the political prisoners and - eventually - bring Carpathia's dictatorship down.
 
"You have a deal." Wood said. In an instant his tone and expression darkened, revealing the devil that existed just beneath the surface, "And likewise, if you screw me with this - and you know what I mean by that - I will make it my mission in life to tear you limb from limb and watch as you slowly bleed to death in a bath of salt. Clear?"
 
Now Thrack did smile. He loved it when his life was on the line. It made him feel... alive. "Super green, Admiral. When we leave here, I'll need access to one of the communication consoles. If the Harkem is where I expect it to be, they can be here by the end of the day tomorrow. And Admiral, I do mean it that you will want to turn a blind eye to what you see. If you don't, you might not live to act out this insane plan of yours."
 
Joint Post between
Admiral Matthew Wood
Marine Captain Thrack

== Conference Room 3 ==
== USS Redemption ==

Thrack waited for the door to close and then he sealed himself in alone. Walking over to the table, he activated the console.

“Scramble signal Beta-Omnicron-Omega-Beta-Delta-Delta-Sixer-Niner-Two-Alpha.”

=^=Signal scrambled. Awaiting frequency=^=

Quickly, Thrack typed in the frequency and the code that would be approved for this date and timeframe. It only took a few minutes for the signal to go out and find its destination… and a few more for a signal to come back. When it did, it was a bit staticy but audio was strong and stable. On the screen was the familiar face that Thrack had always dealt with… Gul Mordron of the CUS Harkem.

Gul Mordron was Thrack’s direct handler and he seemed surprised to see Thrack.

“Well well, if it isn’t our wayward kin paying us a visit. We were beginning to wonder if you had forgotten your way home.”

Thrack responded. “Not forgotten, I just had a little vacation time available and I took it. Nice little place, though the hospitality was more to our liking and not the typical Fed civilian.”

Mordron didn’t look interested or surprised, so Thrack surmised that they had already heard about his incarceration. “What is it you want Thrack.”

“I need another P90X, but other one was broken.”

“Those things are expensive and why should we give you another one if you aren’t going to place nice with them.”

“Because I can get you Red Band.”

That quieted Mordron down and now he looked interested. It had been rumored that the Obsidian Order had tried to hack it before the Dominion War, but was unsuccessful. Now in the ruined state they were in, it was deemed an almost hopeless cause… but one that would provide who ever had it with political power, power that could direct the Cardassian future.

“Why should I believe that you can get into it where as we have all failed?”

“Because I have a certain Admiral who is willing to help us. He is playing for a bigger prize.”

Mordron’s eyes narrowed. “Even if this is true, how do we know that he won’t just terminate the connection once he is through with us?”

Thrack held up a small device that looked like an isolinear chip. “Because of this. Once I insert it into the P90X, it will record all signals, codes, biometric markers, everything. After Admiral Wood is done with it, I, meaning we, will be able to log in whenever we want. We will have intel on where the Federation is steering politically. That knowledge could be a very powerful thing to either group.”

“Why are you helping?”

“Because if we don’t, let’s just say there will be an enemy at our doorstep that rivals the Romulans in secrecy and the Borg in compassion.”

Mordron thought for a moment. “I will contact my supervisors and report back. If you are still at your location in 2 days, and we arrive, then your plan has been approved. If in two days, you do not see us, then it was not. Mordron out.”

The signal cut off and the code that Thrack put in the computer, erased the communication, the sender, the receiver and their locations. As he unsealed the doors, he looked back. No matter what, no one would ever had known of the message that was conducted in there.

Stopping off at a wall terminal, he sent a quick message to Admiral Wood. Two Days

== USS Redemption ==
== Admiral’s Ready Room ==
==Two Days Later ==

Two Days.

That little phrase had set off a firestorm that probably many of the crew members of the Redemption didn’t know about. For the last two days, Thrack had mainly kept to himself. For the last two days, Thrack had worked on his part of the plan. For the last two days, Thrack had rehearsed his lines like an actor about to hit the stage…

And for the last two days, Thrack had been really considering his future.

Being a double agent wasn’t as easy and glamorous as the movies and holo-dramas made it out to be. One just didn’t get the woman on both sides and bed them with witty lines and smooth moves. One didn’t just get to walk around the Dabo tables with a Cardassian Kanar, shaken, not stirred in a white suit and win the day.

Mostly… it meant you were alone.

And no matter how the Federation and the Romulans and the Klingons classified the Cardassians, they really didn’t know them. Thrack had a family before the war… he had sons who were killed in battle, daughters who were slaughtered by the Dominion forces, a wife who killed herself from despair.

Really, all that Thrack had now was Cardassia.

Now, they were sitting here, in Admiral Wood’s ready room, waiting for a signal that may never come. Even though it was quiet, the room was wrought with tension. Thrack could see that all these “Blind Eyes” that the Admiral had to turn was getting to him.

And it might not even pay off.

The same thought had crossed Wood's mind. His decision weighed heavily on his heart. To be an Admiral, with all of the clearance and sensitive data access he once enjoyed, was to be trusted with some of Starfleet's greatest operational secrets - secrets that could mean lives. He was breaking that trust, making a sucker punch against a system that he would forever have to carry the guilt over. Sure, he needed this break-in - knowing where the Fleets were and what they were doing was vital to the rescue mission's success, as were a hundred other things the Red Band could give him...but the price?

This would be his darkest moment.

“For what it is worth”, said Thrack, breaking the silence. “You would have made a promising Cardassian and if I killed anyone under your command during the Dominion War, I am sorry.”

Wood offered Thrack a wry nod, "Thanks. I probably did the same in both wars against your folks. Sorry if I did."

Truth was, Wood figured they both knew they were playing with fire - with Cardassians to boot. Militarily they might be down and out, but animals are at their most dangerous when desperate. Cardassians are particularly dangerous to deal with on a good day. Knowing that only made the wait worse.

"So where did they have you during the war?"

“I was at the Battle of Tyra, against your 7th fleet and also at the 2nd Battle of Chin’toka, the Battle of Tibor Nebula and then the Battle of Cardassia. I lost count of how many people I killed, but each one still haunts me to join them some nights.”

The rest of what Thrack was going to say was cut off by a ping on his communicator. “That’s the signal”, said Thrack. Even now, all sensor logs were being directed to Admiral Wood’s office and nothing was being recorded. When they received confirmation that the link was encrypted and secure, Thrack typed in the counter-signal. Moments later, Gul Mordron appeared on the screen.

“Ah”, he said, smiling at Thrack and Admiral Wood. “The famous, or infamous in our case, Admiral Matthew Wood. When Thrack had informed me he had an Admiral to help him, I wouldn’t have guessed it was the Hero of Starfleet. Though, there aren’t many heroes in Starfleet most days.”

"It doesn't take much to fall from grace these days Gul." It was a natural reaction, borne of years in conflict, for protective walls to go up in the presence of Cardassian Officers. Wood instantly disliked this particular one, getting the impression Mordron would sell his own mother if it benefited him.

Mordron looked almost gleeful at the prospect of someone as highly ranked as Admiral Wood collaborating with him to hack into Starfleet’s Red Band.

Mordron leaned in to the console so that his face took up the screen. “It goes without saying that if this is a feable attempt at some backhanded attack on Cardassia, please understand that we are not as weak and frail as many would believe us to be. In case you need any convincing, please look out your view port.”

Outside the viewport of the Redemption, the empty space blurred as a cloaking device was deactivated… revealing the CUS Harkem. What impressed Thrack, and probably Admiral Wood, was that it was larger than the Sovereign Class starship, by nearly 50%. No doubt, thought Thrack, someone was frantically crapping their pants on the bridge right now.

Within seconds, a device was being transported over to Track’s signal. On the desk materialized a small, almost fragile looking device. Thrack picked it up and examined it to make sure it was a working device… it was.

“Mordron, always a pleasure. Don’t do anything stupid or else that ship may be mine.”

Mordron gave Thrack a withering glare and then returned his gaze to Admiral Wood. A smug look appeared on his face. “Until next time, Admiral. It was refreshing to see an Admiral of Starfleet getting his hands dirty once in a while. Maybe there is hope for the Federation after all.”

While Admiral Wood exchanged looks with Mordron, Thrack carefully and casually pulled the chip from his pocket and inserted it in the machine. He looked up in time to see the communication fade to black and then the Harkem cloaked and turned away from the Redemption, heading to who knows where.

“Admiral, I guess there is no time like the present.”

Wood nodded, not saying a word while he considered what he had just seen. Cardassian mega-ships with cloaking devices, no doubt armed to the teeth - which he hoped his Bridge Crew had got some good scans for later analysis - and now, for real, he was going to commit treason against the state...for the state.

"Let's get it over with."

Thrack nodded and then went to a panel on the wall. He removed it and took out a group of isolinear chips from a section and then inserted his device into the open spots. Pushing two buttons, he spoke three random words into the machine. Lights flashed mutely and the device began to decipher information.

“May I?” he asked, approaching the Admiral’s console. He turned the console to face him and began to type on the screen. Once he had typed on it, he sat back and smiled at Admiral Wood.

“Now we wait… and I do want to apologize for a little lie of omission. I needed to see how dedicated you were about getting in. You’ve passed, so I’ll let you know. In my previous research, I was able to my previous device to get Admiral Reynolds ID. If we access under him, we are less likely to be questioned, considering how close we are to his disabled ship. Fortunately, this machine will run all combinations of every combined symbol, character, letter, number in any language. Fortunately, Admiral Reynolds only uses English symbols, so it shouldn’t take too long.”

He sat back. “He really is a douche canoe of epic proportion. “

So just like that he was off the hook? Wood didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He was aware of the reality that, regardless of there being a patsy available - he was opening up a floodgate that Starfleet was going to have a devil of a time replacing when this was all over. Still, for now he gave his companion the satisfaction he needed. Wood sat back and smiled.

"Yes," He said, "Yes he is

It took more that almost an hour for the machine to work. During that time, Thrack chatted with the Admiral. It was weird to be sitting this close to someone that in his earlier life was such a hated foe. It actually gave him hope that at some point in the future, probably not while he was alive, that Cardassia might even join the Federation and become allies. In Admiral Wood, he saw someone who was going to do what’s right, even if it wasn’t the popular or the easy thing to do. Having someone like that on your team was a prized asset, but it could also be very dangerous.

The machine pinged, indicating that it had found a match. Unbeknownst to Admiral Wood, the alterations to the machine were tracking every touch and command. He flipped the monitor back around to Admiral Wood and sat back.

“It is all yours Admiral. You know better than me where the information you are searching for is at. Time is of the essence, so I’ll let you do the leading.

Wood didn't answer. His focus was now on the details, sifting through reams of data and talk to pick out what was really important within the wider upper-echelon talk of a nation.

One thing he did not see - nor even expect to find - was communication between Carpathia and his secret police. Though a small part of him hoped such damning evidence would surface here, reality was this band was probably superseded by another band privately run by Carpathia's inside circle.

So he searched for something of real use.

The most discussed topics were fleet deployments, intelligence reports and prototype starship development. He had the computer organize those into an organised display, allowing him to visually interpret long conversations as summarized graphics.

"Okay. Currently only the Home Fleet is in the Solar Sector. There's a lot of fleet movements around the Romulan Border and also in the Alpha Quadrant. Mostly due to training exercises. There doesn't seem to be a concerted effort to root us or the other 39 known 'rebel' ships out, but that may not be something discussed on this band. Also looks like the Jupiter and Excalibur class prototypes are getting ready for demonstration cruises around Earth. This is interesting stuff..."

He brought up some information on the two Starship classes. He was fuzzy on the details, though the names were familiar to him. They were part of the Extended-Term Explorer project, taking advantage of technologies tested on the Hogoumont.

Fancy talk aside. Jupiter and Excalibur Class ships were dual-shielded, super long range, self-sufficient, multi-role monsters of ships. One designed more for exploration - and one for defense.

He turned the screen to show Thrack.




"Take a look at them. First one is the Excalibur Class, designed with a more defensive bent. The Second is the Jupiter Class - the next big name in exploration. The big deal is they're due for flights around Earth in the near future, which gives me an idea..."

Thrack loved the gleam in Admiral Wood's eyes.  "You definitely would have made a good Cardassian, sir."  Then he listened in on the rest of Admiral's Plan.

Joint Post by
Admiral Matthew Wood
Marine Captain Thrack

====Unknown location- Earth====


Harper was sitting in his office. He was tired, he had been in an out of meetings all day and the department was becoming visibly more split all the time.Tensions were high - between those who supported the president those who didn't and know who were more worried about external threat and wanted to let the problem take care of itself. Harper was not one of the heads of section 31 but his direct boss was. The Agency since it was not officially starfleet sponsored was set up like most terrorist cells but instead of 1 leader there were 7 who would debate and argue over the direction that the agency should go but in the end most of leaders would go and do what they wanted to anyway and no would know for sure if it was that did the did they would expect but no one would act without proof as that would be the start of more problems than they wanted.

The agency a lot of the time stepping on each other toes that was were Harpers job came in, his boss wanted him to know what every major operation that was going on was about this only worked because his boss mostly because of Harper had the best information so most people would request it from. This mad Harper arguably one of the most influential people in the building he knew almost everything about everyone he had spies in everyone's groups and shared just enough information to make it seem like he was loyal.

Harper himself was a very paranoid man, before he joined Section he was a researcher on Borg using there technology to try and defend against him he was a young man just an assistant at the time being lucky and out of the room when the attack happened everyone was killed. After years of running changing names hiding in different places there was only 1 person left who Harper trusted. He started at the bottom being a researcher but his brains quickly made him enemies that started to put him in the field it was there on the fly Harper had to learn to defend him self well he was no master he could now hold his own in a fight.

His monitor chirp on to see one of his informants there, "Fury, Brutus is a go.."

Harper's eyes went wide as he turned around to leave when saw his boss standing there, "Sir  Brutus is a go we have to leave, we can't trust anyone we don't know for sure who's working for who now."

"No no we don't you see I am the one who is working for them, oh Fury or should I say Harper running your little games thinking you are smarter than everyone else but you're not now hand over all your files on everything and your death will be quick and painless this I promise you."

"Umm let me think, Activate Burning London," as soon as the words left his mouth his eyes changed for a brief second, then the building went dark the only light left from computers that had started to spark and overload, "[color:33d3=cc9900]Whoops I guess I fried everything."

With all the work Harper did on the Borg he walked away with more than a few upgrades himself, he was closer to a cyborg now than just a pure human. Stronger bones nano tech that enhanced his muscles, built in shades/heat/night vision but the thing he loved the most was he could now directly connect to computers and because of this he could easily break any code hack into anything.

During the confusion Harper quickly step forward grabbing his bosses head and slamming it into the wall, once he was in the hall Harper saw half a dozen guards waiting for him they had yet to see him well since it was black but not wanting to take a chance he dropped a small bomb that instead of explode released gas that did not take long to knock out his would be capture now that the hall was clear Harper made his way to the fighter hangers.

He found himself standing in front of long range scout fighter planes it was designed to go behind enemy lines during war and just sit there and watch it utilized stealth tech it was equipped with enough food and power to last him more than a month  and with warp 7 capabilities in this small and highly illegal ship based off more than a few treaties the federation signed would be perfect for his getaway.  The implants on his face lit up as a small 3d padd appeared in front of him Harper used this padd which was connected to the computer in his brain to upload the same virus that was effecting the ship to overload all of these fighters. The beauty of this program was the destruction was mostly for show before a computer system overloaded it deleted any information that was no life support. They would manually need to bring in a portable relay to so the base could reconnect to starfleet and relearn everything, but there was no supplies due for a few weeks and no one was expecting messages for a while at best this station could be down for up to a month at worst based on time to get here it would be a week before they could start searching for him.

Harper got into one of the fighters and left sending a message to his only friend, "Hey Eric its me Shamus I think I might be in some trouble and need your help."

<Durshal>

"Annd ouuut!" Tybalt shouted as the simulated lift off threw all of them hard into the gel filled seats of their assault hopper; stopping the timer, calling an end to the latest of what was now officially an illegitimate child of series of simulations. Every single one of the force was dirty, smoky and more than one was sporting 'simulated' injuries that were only now ceasing to hold them in less than simulate pain and disabling. On the other hand they had just shaved a full three minutes off their run.

Almost as soon as the intel had come in from whatever source it had come; that little datachip of goodness that detailed the layout of at least one camp as well as a whole host of other things like observed defences and guard rotations; one of the eggheads in grey had started programming up versions for the holodeck.

Even before that was finished, starting in a cargo bay with layouts done in tape, and ever since it was the Recon marines had been doing runs on the site.

A couple of early disasters had proven that whatever else those 'tanks' were they weren't all brawn, most of the SOPs of raiding had run into well thought out killing fields and the first three improvisations on those themes had run into worse. No matter how good the elite force was they couldn't pass through walls at will or crawl completely without trace towards the bristling sensor arrays that festooned the camp edge. The 'Blind spots' that there were turned out to be corridors of death and the natural ingress points were worse.

Without the smuggled clues there was little doubt that the first waves of any assault would have been meat in moments As shown in those first few runs, where those who weren't marked KIA were evacuated back to what should have been the prisoner escape vehicles. The triage on the first simulated runs had been brutal, being ready to treat evacuees was one thing, seeing the whole assault team ground to paste had been worse, the holdoeck all too good at swapping out real friends for screaming copies in time to go under the medic's care.

It had been a very subdued night in the mess after that.

Again however training and dedication shone through, where other units would have folded under the pressure, called the job unachievable or begun to simply go through the motions of practice until they could, the Recon marines of 2Btn had picked themselves up without even the need of a motivating speech, and come back hard the next day.. and the next and the next

Until they got where they were now, bloodied, dirtied but unbowed and finally victorious within the estimated time limit they were setting themselves... wait too long after all and all the might of Earth was going to land on them from a literal great height.

"Okay, round it up, breather for thirty and back in for worst case" Tybalt declared as the hopper they were in faded away along with the blue grey skies of Earth in favour of the violent yellow lines of the deck.

It was another mark of just how far these people were a cut above that there was no grumbling at that, not even the faintest hint of displeasure, merely a sigh of relief welcoming the brief rest and an almost universal shaking to work the tension out of their strained bodies for as along as they had.

Likewise there was no immediate talk of the run they had done, plenty of time for that in official debriefs, each one of them trained and aware that the 'edge' was not a healthy place to stay for any longer than necessary and winding down was every bit as much an essential skill as focusing up...

Which is why while the brews were brewing the BS started flinging; whether it was the current attempt by three female bootnecks to rate all their fleety running partners by 'tightness of butt' or the nearly good natured ribbing of a lad who had so publicly gotten the heave ho from a dark skinned colleague.

For his part Tybalt was chugging down an ice cold electrolyte supplement and surreptitiously checking his own vitals, all too aware right then of each decade of his century and a touch of service.

He was not therefore expecting on of the full screw fireteam leaders to start up a question and answer session.

"Top" the young bajoran lad said, "slap me down if I am out of order but I could have sworn I saw a frakking spoon-head wearing a silver grill on greens...."

Around him a quiet circle expanded, any scuttle relating to their own officer sets well worth putting off a discussion of whether that PO's @ss was a seven or an eight...

"Captain Thrack" Tybalt confirmed, stifling the impulse to further correct the lad's tone. Right here, after an op with adrenaline still cooling, it would do more harm than good to remind the dedicated marine that most cardassians were on their side these days, or that most of them were actually grateful for the post-war machine society the federation had helped build in the wake of their loss of the Dominion War.

Not least of which because the scuttle likewise said that Thrack wasn't entirely on the level anyway.

Course it would probably say that about any Cardassian who had ever been part of the baby murdering, ethnic cleansing, slave taking cess pit that had been the Cardassian forces of occupation, but in this case there was apparently more, with the guy having been part of whatever it was their own resident spook extraordinary Dushall had been up to out there.

"Captain" Tybalt did however re-iterate, "Bootneck" he added, confirming the 'alien' was in fact at least in the same service as them, "but no wings, no flash or patch" he supplied, letting them all know the man in question was not that much the same, having no elite force quals on record. "Story is" he continued, passing on what information he had gleaned from one of their own lieutenants, "he served garrison on Earth, Wood is interviewing personally"

"Specialist knowledge then?" one of the privates guessed, Tybalt could only shrug and shake his head a little, admitting that he really didn't know.

"Rather follow Starr" one of the other privates opined, their tone edging towards lewd.

"There's an officer you don't mind see leave" the marine's fiend agreed, with an equal lack of subtlety

"MmmmMmmMMMMM" the first declared, eye comically wide... and low...just before he got hit by a soggy teabag.

"Thought you liked our Doc?" the thrower teased, ignoring the indignant shout, and apparently a little put out by the 'betrayal' of their own much admired officer.

immediately eyes flicked to Tybalt at this, waiting for the response they all expected considering how close he and Beth were.

"Too much energy you must be ready to run" the veteran Marine announced, obliging them, and earning the ill thought out trio some dirty glares from those still enjoying their brews. "From the top" Tybalt said, "Atmospheric insertion under fire, bounce packs, hopper runs and anti-scatter!"

And just because this was 'worst case'... "Fighter screen and transatmospheric weaps are non effective, manipulated weather front from outset, hostile particle fields are up so no Phasers... and unknown break in routine for reds and blues" he finished, really ratcheting it up... and finally drawing a groan.

None of which stopped his people rushing their last moment personal admin and loading up for the return to training...

"Once more unto the breach" an officer encouraged...

"Train hard, Fight easy!" someone quoted seriously unhelpfully, staring the familiar tirade of equally useless cliches

"if it ain't raining you aren't training" another offered

"No pain no gain"

"Express elevator to Hell?"

"Women, children and butterbars first?"

"Does my @ss look big on this"....

====Admiral's Ready Room=====


After Wood outlined his idea to Thrack, he realised there was still a number of holes that needed to be filled. They had a way in, but they needed to know exactly where the Political Prisons were, what kind of defenses they had and the time it would take for a rescue operation to liberate the prisoners and leave Earth orbit.

As he would be working with only 29 ships as cover for the rescue parties - timing would be of vital importance. The time they took the better off they'd all be.

"I'm going to have to make some calls Captain." He said, "Go and have your Marines run hostage rescue drills until I've got the last loose ends tied up. We'll be able to simulate the exact mission soon."

He waited for Thrack to head out before tapping in the communication protocols Janice had given him on his desk console. Two seconds later and the secure line to Admiral Richards was established.

"Miss me that much?" She grinned, "What's up?"

"Two things. Neither of them very small." Wood admitted, "First, I'm going to need to know the locations of the Political Prisons and as much tactical information about them as possible - layouts, defenses, location and composition of any Rapid Reaction Forces, the whole nine yards."

Janice rubbed her chin, "Okay. That's not so bad. What's the other one?"

Wood drew in a deep breath. This was the big one, "I need you to find some way of bringing down the Solar System's static defenses. We can't get anywhere near those Prisons with-"

"I know," She cut him off, "And I got good news for you. We have a way. It's tricky and I don't think you wanna know how I achieved it...but you got it already. Just give me the word and we'll knock it out."

"But-"

Once more she cut him off, "Matt. Seriously. You don't want to know. Trust me."

He nodded, overwhelmed by the gesture. Bringing down the Solar defense network was risky business - and she'd thought of it and arranged it without him ever needing to say anything.

"Just," She added in a near whisper, "Just promise me you won't do anything crazy when this starts."

"Isn't the whole thing crazy?"

"You know what I mean."

He nodded, "Okay. If it means that much to you. I promise."

"It does." Her gaze retained the intensity it had gained since she'd broached the subject. Suddenly she cleared her throat, "I should get on that info for you. Call you when it's ready."

"Thanks Janice."

The link was closed, leaving Wood to make the second big call of the day.

This time to someone considerably more famous...

{all}

======Voth Skimmer - Less than 300km off Redemption's Bow====

Belem and Cal were just one of six Voth who occupied the Verium, a fast and agile Voth Skimmer which was designed for scouting missions far from the City Ship.

Back when there was one.

Now they were six nervous creatures from a race in very real danger of extinction running for help from the very people who - in the one brief encounter they'd had - were observed not only to be inferior technologically, but also very benign. Of course, the ship before them was run by that same political power. Though the subspace messages they'd listened in on muddied that perception considerably.

Belem firmly believed they were in some form of rebellion from this Federation of Planets. Cal and unfortunately the Skimmer's Commander did not seem to be convinced.

"This is why we should go and gather information from the ship itself!" Belem pleaded with his old friend, "Observe their behavior and see if it matches up with what they're projecting."

"Which could well be the very thing they desire." Cal snorted, "They have proven adept at trickery already."

"The crew of Voyager did not seem to be of that nature."

Call let out a noise from the nasal structure running behind his head - a holdover from his dinosaur ancestors, "They were in no position to do anything else. Evidently they have developed technologically since then. Or their leaders are more devious than they were."

"Exactly!" Belem exclaimed, "They do not seem as rigid a society as ours. What if their leader's despicable intent was just that - their leaders. Maybe those like Voyager do not like this leader's actions and refuse to follow him. Maybe they will help our people."

Cal shifted uncomfortably, "How could they? You saw the defenses Earth had! One ship against all of that?"

"You know there are more. We heard him talking to them - including the one our people dealt with from Voyager!"

Cal's reaction told Belem he was starting to get through. The pauses between answers were getting longer, requiring more thought. If only he could persuade Cal - he would have enough of a case to take to the Commander and make this a reality...

"Do we not want to save our people, claim our place in our true home of Distant Origin?" Belem said.

"Of course I do..."

"Then," Belem did not let Cal get a thought in edgeways, "We need to take action. We need to see if this Redemption ship is crewed by trustworthy Federations - or at least Federations we can use to our own end. We need to do what has worked so well for our kind for milennia. We must observe."

Cal huffed, "Fine. You make a good argument Belem. We shall take this to the Commander..."

Belem grasped Cal's hand, "NO!" He snapped, "Every moment we waste is a moment our people come closer to extinction. We act now."

"But we can't act without-"

"I will take responsibility for that breach of Doctrine. Let us go now."

Cal had a feeling this was a mistake, but had little chance to argue before Belem tapped his wrist computer and beamed them both under Phase Cloak into the halls of the Starship Redemption.

Unbeknownst to them - a starship that had recently dealt with a Phase anomoly. With sensors still able to see the concentrated Tacheyons emitted by an out-of-phase object, Cal and Belem's presence was reported by the ship's computer to Lieutenant Commander Star's security console on the Bridge.



{Star}

Meanwhile in a nearby holodeck Beth's team were already strapped into their dropship and currently 'dropping' through Earth's atmosphere. Her senior officer had added a storm to the different variables that could be altered to the holodeck program so they had the joy of really bad turbulence to deal with on top of everything else.

And unlike Tybalt's team her own team was complaining about the driving, none to loudly though lest their words reach 'Ice Queen's' ears and she purposefully made their ride worse.

“This is giving me the boak” came one rather broad teuchter accented comment from beside her followed by the marine lifting a gloved hand to his mouth.

“What is it with you and making up words Haggis?” Beth rolled her eyes as the familiar 'discussion' started up between Haggis, the Scottish marine, and Rat, a small marine with an exceptional ability at climbing and knowing just when was the best time to leave a bar before the obligatory brawl broke out.

“It's a proper and true word, just ask any of my Aunties” Beth said hoping to put an end to it before they hit the ground.

“Of course you'd take his side” Rat grumbled “Gaels are Scots just from space, you think words like smirr, drookit and boggin are real too” he said in a very fake Scottish accent.

Beth just grinned at him and in a sing-song voice replied “and you have too many words for rain like the Inuit have for snow.” She paused as their dropship hit a rough patch “you forgot my favourite Rat bawbag and Haggis don't you dare barf on me, you know the penalty for throwing up on your medic” she warned the slightly green looking marine.

Moments later they were given the 30 seconds warning for landing and all grabbed their rifles, snapping open their belts as the dropship barely kissed the rain soaked ground and they all piled out of the open door falling into a defensive arc as the dropship blasted back up into the air to provide fire support for the small team of marines.

As the rain pelted her helmet and the mud soaked into her trousers Beth couldn't help but reflect at just how good the holodeck was at making things so realistic.

TBC

JP With Emily Star, Tybalt and Admiralwood

---COS OFFICE

Sitting at her desk, the lights dimmed, Emily stared at the PADD in hand with little to no registration of what she was actually reading. As much as she tried to avoid it, her mind kept jumping back to the last mission and with that memory came nausea, embarrassment and an even larger desire to never leave her office.

Then again never leaving her office wouldn’t help the situation with her security team. Eventually she would have to see Tybalt and eventually she’d have to ask for his help regarding her security team. They were well trained but they weren’t trained for fire fights like they’d just had. Even Emily had to think twice and now probably wouldn’t be able to look Tybalt in the eyes without cringing.

Her PADD chirped, the information that went to the bridge having been thrown down to her office given she wasn’t on the bridge (although she should have probably been up there). Switching from what she hadn’t been reading, Emily surveyed the cause of her interruption and had to rub her eyes to actually believe what was in front of her, “sh*t.” She jumped up and dropped the PADD, “Computer, security alert Star Beta Foxtrot Seven. Red alert! Lock down the corridors on the affected area.” She paused, “Damn it, computer open up a channel to Tybalt..”

Ordinarily the call would not have gone through, not with the recipient being in the middle of a training exercise, but the source combined with the alert just issued overrode that, just as the alert was also in turn shutting down the simulation and safely returning its occupants to reality.

“Receiving” Tybalt declared, breathing hard and closing his eyes to try and help the sudden adjustment from B-Block’s ground floor to the Redemption’s Holodeck. The BF7 alert distinctly forbade a more general announcement or the lights being changed, but it didn’t take a great deal of thinking to come up with some of the few reasons why he might be suddenly getting a call and his exercise be equally suddenly interrupted. “What’s the situation?” he asked

“We’ve got some unwelcome visitors.”Emily growls, “They just somehow appeared cloaked in a corridor. I’ve got the it sealed but I figured that you guys might be useful.”

“Out here?” Tybalt replied, more than reasonably sure that they were still practically speaking far too far out to be randomly happened upon. In all the vastness of space there was a lot of emptiness, space if you will, and at the moment that was one of the things they were counting on… only now apparently they had visitors.

“Any sign of their vessel?” Tybalt asked, already assuming that there must be more, and that despite her easy tone the threat might yet turn out to be something very alarming indeed.

“No, I’m going to get hunting on it. I need to alert Wood. For some damn reason I called you first.”Emily could be heard running, the gentle sound of a galloping elephant heading towards the turbolift.

“I have a team here and armed” Tybalt replied, brow still very much furrowed as he was deep in thought, “I am assuming that whichever corridor they jumped into is close by?” he hazarded, jumping to a reason why she might have called him rather than assembling a team herself.

“SOP says scattering fields to stop further intrusion, and I am going to assume that one of your people is already talking to science about fine tuning the scans to target them?” he added, mostly now thinking aloud in case he came up with anything strange that she hadn’t.

“Give us a corridor junction number and we’ll move to bracket?” he suggested

“Uhhh,”Emily stops in her tracks and taps her PADD, “I’ve sent you what I got when they first arrived.” Her eyes scan the info, curious if they were closer to Tybalt hence why she harassed him first before telling Wood why the ship was suddenly at Red Alert, “And...they could be moving but the doors are locked, force fields are up...I don’t know if they can jump elsewhere.”

“We’re moving now” Tybalt replied, quieting the com for a moment to give orders to that effect. The rapidly retasked marines were obviously very curious, but drilled enough that they left their questions for after they started jogging. “Leave the eggheads to worry about stopping them jumping” he suggested as he came back on the channel, “if they found them chances are they have at least a guess as to what sort of nintendoes they are giving off” he advised, “and will be doing their mojo thing to stop them”

“Meanwhile what we want to know is what is in the direction they are heading, and is there anything close to where they beamed in that is essential” he said, hoping that she would get that cue and put her people on it, something that they were better trained to do than even his marines… being as how hopefully it didn’t include some junction point like they had used attacking the ship guarding the downed Incursion; booms were bad.

“Security’s already set up in essential areas, teams are sweeping the decks and we’re hunting for wherever the hell they originated from,”Emily threw in, grateful she’d at least thought that out and ordered it. “And yes, booms are bad. Please don’t get blown up.”

“Just for you ma’am” Tybalt quipped back, not missing the chance to again use the ‘honorific’ Emily had shown such an aversion to.

“Bastard,”She mumbled as the Turbolift took off.

After that it was simply running, a dash to a ladder before splitting his still dirty but resolute people up into a cutoff group and his ‘kill group’ before homing in closer to the hopefully still unaware intruders from either side of them, feet shifting to the loping ‘tactical’ run that covered the ground without making as much noise on the carpeted floors.


“They never really described adequately just how primitive these craft are,” Cal snorted as he walked, scanner in hand, alongside his partner Belem, “Bio-neural circuitry? Really?”

“Seems you’ve forgotten your reservations,” Belem muttered, “Perhaps more scanning and less judging?”

Cal snorted, which made an obnoxious sound from the Voth’s unique nasal system. Their scanners were attuned to picking up sound waves, allowing them to listen in to conversations from several decks above and below them. The information was compiled and transmitted directly into their brains, making it like they were in the room overhearing everything.

Belem shuddered, “Ugh. What a vile mating ritual...lets look above us!”

Then the lighting changed. No more mating rituals or idle conversations. All they were heard business - hurried and concerned.

“Have they detected our ship?” Cal blurted out nervously.

Belem looked at his younger associate like he was a challenged student, “These Federations don’t possess the technology to detect Phased objects - let alone ones under a phase cloak. Something else is going on. A drill perhaps?”

“We should find the Bridge and listen in.”

“Good idea!” Belem took the device from Cal and fiddled with the controls, confining the listening equipment so that they would reach as far as the ship’s bridge - 8 decks up.

“Report!” A commanding voice, most likely the Admiral who had been making all those calls, snapped. He sounded like he was surprised - and on the com-line to someone.  

“Sir, we’ve detected some intruders. They arrived literally out of nowhere.”Emily responded.

“Where?” Wood queried.

“On our ship,”She responded sarcastically before pulling back her attitude, ‘The Marines are on their way, security is positioned adequately and we need to find their ship.”

“Capture them.” Wood responded, “Lets find out what they’re after.”

Belem glanced at his partner, who looked ready to void his bowels, and sighed, “Or perhaps they do…”

Emily had just a moment to arrive into the rear of the stacked file, recieve a silent nod of welcome, and then the well oiled machine swung into action, starting forward as one and stepping through the field erected to cordon off the intruders as if it wasn’t there. On his wrist the tactical computer silently declared all it knew about the sudden anti-tachon- anyone blend that had been scattered through the area to hopefully prevent any use of whatever it was that had been used to beam in, but the veteran marine didn’t so much as glance before he was loping around the corner and shouting for the surrender of the intruders.

“Armed Marines surrender immediately!” he demanded, eyes and stalks scanning for whatever, whoever might be the source of the two signals that the eggheads had isolated.

Behind him his immediate fireteam spread out, one of them already holding a seriously overpowered photonic stun grenade, set to go off if released, others covering exotic arcs like the ceiling and the wall tiles… just in case.

Cal screamed in a blind panic as armed soldiers filled his mind with images of the horrors they’d only recently escaped. Out of instinct he flicked his hands forward, firing two tiny spines filled with a serum that would render unconscious whoever they buried themselves in the skin of. Belem could see them both being killed and acted fast. Screaming ‘Don’t shoot!’ He decloaked and threw his hands up for the ceiling, “We mean no harm!”

By then though those spines had taken corporal Janes in the arm, bright blossoms of scarlet flowering on his training dirtied uniform. Which was more than enough for all other concerned and even before the full screw had hit the deck a half dozen deep orange beams set on broad dispersion were almost literally filling the corridor, wall to wall and ceiling to floor

Fortunately still set on heavy stun.

Belem, having neatly identified where he was, got a literal faceful, Cal’s scream having not given quite as much clue he only got caught twice, once in the leg and once in the arm that had sent the spines.

Either which way any hope of ending the situation without a trip to sickbay had gone proverbially south… Which some detractors might argue it had been bound to do the moment the sec boys called in the bootnecks.

“Evac site to site” Tybalt decreed for Jane, “two for the iso ward” he added, his tone making the last a suggestion even as the first was requested by Janes’ buddy

Voth physiology being as rugged as it is meant that despite taking two heavy stun hits, Cal was going out slowly. He tried to resist the growing need to sleep, dropping to his knees -accidentally decloaking as he fell.  His gaze met Star’s, defiant and pleading all at once, “Don’t wipe us out,” He grunted weakly, “Please…”

A spasm in the muscles that worked the defensive spine system in Cal’s body caused one more spine to fly - straight at the Redemption’s chief of security - right on the moment Cal succumbed to unconsciousness.

Emily dropped, the spike embedded sharply in her hand that had involuntarily lept up to shield her as she ducked.

tag moondark

The searing heat baked down from high above, making it incredibly uncomfortable for the marines decked out in full camo and gear, snipers laying prone, spotters high in makeshift nests as red team played against blue, in a game of who flinched first, amid the tall straw like grasses and brambles of the mountian range they were in.

Ziva ignored the sweat beading across her brow as she scanned the field around her. Copper had literally gotten shot out of his tree a few minuets ago, and she knew that Hawke and Scorpio were on the hunt for her. It wasnt often that they 'played' games like this, using spotters, the Starfleet tech long ago eliminating the need for them, thus turning spotters into snipers.

The rules to their game were simple, three hits and you 'died', getting knocked out of the game, unless those hits were non fatal hits, of which Ziva was currently sporting two of, the last one forcing her to move location, because Scorpio had tagged her the same time she tagged him.

She had just located Hawke when the unmistakable chirp of the highest alert was sounded and the holodeck they were in deactivated, the hot humid mountian scenery vanishing to the grey black tiles and revieling the four dirty, sweaty,  foliage covered snipers staring at each other before they all scrambled, switching from play mode to defensive mode in a blink, as Ziva contacted Tybalt.

=A= Demon to Sarge, whats going on? =A= she asked as she flipped her rifle up and over, bringing it up to her shoulder and looking through the sight as the group cautiously left the holodeck, doing the four man sweep as they entered the coridoor.

Tag Tybalt, any

If there could be one thing said about being stationed on the Redemption, it was that there was never really a dull moment unless you made one for yourself. The ship seemed to hop about from one seriously FUBAR situation to another and see just how closely they could cut it down tot he wire before deftly dodging out of the way. Part of Cassius's imagination saw the ship dressed like a Spanish bull fighter, trading blows with the seriously pissed off bull that was named Fate. But the latest intel that had come managed to eek it's way down through the leaves of the grapevine said that this latest endeavor was tantamount to suicide.  Ever since he'd gotten confirmation that the Redemption was going to be participating in a raid on Earth, he'd have random flashes of the memory of his life pass before his eyes, like his mind knew what was going to happen and was getting everything out of the way early. That way there wouldn't be the "pause" in time to take care of it when a surface to air defense turret blasted his fighter to atoms in the middle of a low altitude gun run.

But it wasn't like he hadn't know what he was getting himself into when he signed up for this post, actually requesting it, out of all the others he could have had. He knew he'd be called upon for missions like this. And if it meant helping to bring down the vile corruption that was Carpathia, he'd smile at that charging bull when he realized he wouldn't be able to get out of it's way. Fate found everyone in the end. It's just how you chose to meet it. Cassius would try to grab it by the horns and ride it a couple seconds before the beast skewered him and pinned him to the wall of the arena.

But for now, until that inevitable skewering came, Cassius looked to the Deck chief as the man appraised him of the goings on with the fighter preparations and maintenance. Grizzly had been making sure that the chief had kept his men frosty, drilling reloading runs on fighters to mock "mid-battle" combat stops in the hangers. It would be as chaotic as a threatened hornets' nest and even more dangerous if something went wrong. So the Chief was running exercises daily to make sure that ordinance delivery systems would be uninterrupted and the flow of people through the hanger wouldn't cause choke points in efficient operations. Cassius was very pleased with what he had seen.

It just so happened that it was during one of these reloading drills that the sudden Red Alert flooded the ship. Cassius looked over his shoulder to the flashing red band along the wall as the klaxons started warning of imminent danger. The flight technicians paused for half a second as the realized that this might not be an "exercise" anymore as they started working even harder than before to get munitions loaded onto the fighters, working on breaking their own speed records in the suddenly real sense of urgency. Cassius was pleased and angered all at the same time. Pleased that they hadn't balked, but angered that they hadn't really been giving their training their everything, like this time wouldn't actually happen. He made a mental note to talk about that later as he hit his combadge =/\= Captain Bar to the Bridge, Situation update? Please don't tell me you you didn't give me a heads up before we hit Sol...=/\=

{Bridge}

Dushall rolled over on the couch. Although he had been sleeping on it since his return he knew that he could never get used to it. He was convinced that there was a boulder hiding in the cushions somewhere, despite his continuous failed searches. Since he slept light all the time it didn't take much to wake him from his tossing sleep. A beep on a screen of the computer at the desk alerted him to someone calling.

"Hey Eric its me Shamus I think I might be in some trouble and need your help."

It was a voice of a old friend that he hadn't heard for years. Getting up he walked over to the screen and saw Harper's face. “What the hell happened to you? You look like a Borg mated with Hellboy.” Eric wasn't much of a fan of 20th century literature but being around Harper he found a liking for what he called “Comic Books”.

Harper laughed a short but loud bark of a laughter, “Nice to see you have not changed much,” he was trying to move in his small confined space he was never good in small spaces he spoke far too much with his hands, “Yea well I may have made a mistake and a few more enemies over the last few years, as I may I mean the chances is far more likely to yes than no but there was a chance that I may have just blown up a Section 31 base.”

“Wow… well when you get in a big pile you really get in it.” His long term friendship with Harper was his only real friendship outside of Wood and Loki. Harper knew that if he was ever in trouble Dushall would come to his aide. Dushall knew that Harper knew this because they have been keeping a tally. “Where are you at right now Harper?”

“Just off of Earth I am in an experimental fighter. It should be at least 24-48 hours until they get the message out they they need to find me, plus this is me and I am awesome so I still have more than a few contacts around plus all of my spyware I have installed. I should know when the widespread search starts I should hear about it first,” Harper let out a small laugh, “Sorry its been awhile since I have been on the run, I mean last time they sent you to kill me.” He let out a small smirk at that.

A little chuckle escaped Dushall. It was true that he had been sent to kill Harper. It was his research that caused Section 31 and it’s Shadow Operations Department to send in their best assassin. But it was during his undercover operation that Dushall decided to go against his orders for the first time and defy his Command. With a sword to Harper's throat Dushall released him and instead killed the other members of his team. That single instant started him on the path that has lead him to the Redemption. “Don't forget. I still have dibs on ending your life.”

“That's how I know you will always be there to pull my @ss out of the fire,” Harper said with a small smile that turned into a frown, “Now I know you have more than a bit of experience with this but I might need a place to lie low for a while and well I need one with a better than average computer so I can keep up my work. The Section is not all working for Carpathia yet.”

Dushall thought about the request and in the fraction of a millisecond it took to think all the other possible scenarios of betrayal and Carpathian Plots they were quickly dismissed. There were few things he was certain of in life and one of them was that Harper would never be apart of a plot against him. “Sure thing buddy. I am sending over our coordinates according to our personal encryption codes.” Dushall entered his codes and sent them over to Harper. The transmission was instant and Dushall looked up. “Hurry up and try not to get blow up in the process. I’ll let the admiral know of your arrival so we don't shoot you ourselves.”

“Well last time I was on the Redemption didn't it blow up, man apparently I have some bad luck, and thanks bro I owe you another,” Harper laid in the coordinates into the computer and made his way towards Redemption.

Dushall put his uniform on and picked up his personal PADD. The Admiral had given him a little bit of leave since his ordeal and the obvious mood Clara was displaying. A little family time had been good but he asked the Admiral to send him updates on all meeting so that he was still in the loop. There was nothing worse then a Executive Officer who didn't know what the heck was going on.

He had just warmed up a cup of Earl Gray when the Intruder Alert had gone off. =^= Dushall to the Bridge. What is going on?=^=

The voice of a Male with a slightly Andorian accent spoke on the other end. =^=Sir, Chief of Security called the Alert. Apparently there are unknown cloaked intruders on-board.=^=

=^=I’m on the way to the Bridge. Dushall out.=^=

It didn't take long to get to the bridge from his quarters. “Any word Admiral?” He said as soon as he stepped off the turbolift.

To the Admiral’s pleasure he saw Dushall stepping onto the Bridge, “Welcome back Eric.” Then it was straight back to business, “Seems our little excursion in that anomaly might have helped us out. Internal sensors picked up two intruders operating under a Phase Cloak. Very sophisticated stuff. Marines and Security have it locked down, orders to capture.”

“Thank the stars we have a competent security Chief.” Dushall smirked knowing that Star was more than Competent. “Hopefully we will have some answers shortly from the Intruders. I don't think they are Carpathian agents. As far as I know Starfleet doesn't have any personal cloaking technology. Do we know of any species that does?”

Wood gave it some thought, “There’s no Alpha or Beta Quadrant power known to have that kind of technology - including us. We’ll be able to get a better idea once we have them. Good news is the ship they came from is tiny - a kind of scout craft. No sign of any more in the immediate area. You know, this just doesn't seem like a very competent recon mission to me.”

Nodding his head in agreement Dushall looked at the viewscreen. The ship itself was cloaked but wasn't moving. “Sir, it may be a scout ship but we have no idea if there is anyone still on it or not. If there is they might not know that we have cornered it’s compatriots. I recommend we lock onto it with a tractor beam.” He looked back at the data PADD that held the updates Wood sent to him. “Sir, I was looking at the updates you sent me and I had a idea that might help us.”

Wood shook his head, “They’re out of phase. Without re-configuring our tractor beam heavily we can’t touch them - nor could we physically hold them in a shuttle bay either. Besides, I’d rather not spook them right now. What have you got in mind that might help us?”

Dushall opened up his file on his PADD and handed it to Wood. “As we all learned as children the path of Halley's comet over the past couple hundred years has taken longer to complete it’s orbit. Right now the Comet is heading towards earth and will be at it’s closest since the late 20th century. If we warp some of our fleet behind the comet in the wake of it’s tail then and then plan our attack with the rest it will become a two pronged pincer attack. A surprise flank that Carpie Loyalist wouldn't see coming.”

“Good place to put a reserve force too,” Wood thought aloud, “Good thinking. We’ll talk more once we've dealt with our guests. There’s a lot that needs working on before we start warping for Sol.”

“How do you think the Crew is holding up?” Dushall asked as he noticed the strain on the bridge crews faces.

“Walk with me,” Wood stood up, gesturing for them to make their way into the Ready Room. This was not a conversation to be having in front of the crew.

Walking to the ready room he traded of couple nods and hellos with the junior officers. He knew that as the XO his duty was the crew but he did need to talk to the Admiral about morale.

The Admiral waited for the door to shut before meeting Dushall’s gaze, “Honest answer. They’re nervous. They have every right to be. I am nervous too. We’re talking about something that’s never been done for a reason. Worse of all - we can’t really talk about it right now because timing is so very important. If there is even one person who discovers what I have been doing to secure our success and - more importantly - survival. Well, we won’t survive. End of. It sucks. I hate not being able to tell them and reassure them.”

Dushall understood the position that the Admiral was in. Being a Special Agent encompassed more than just gathering information. He had to do many terrible things all in the name of the Federation. “Take it from someone who knows sir and who also considers you a very close friend. We need to make sure that we stay true to what we are standing for. It’s not the destination. It’s how we get there. We can not sacrifice who we are. If we do then we are no better than Carpathia.”

Dushall walked out to the viewport and looked at the space around the ship. “I can see why the crew is on edge. Not even sleep can cure it. It seems to me that the only ones enjoying themselves are the Marines and Starr.”

Wood sighed, “I know. I can trust you, but you can’t say a word of this until it’s time to make the move. I’ll brief everyone at that point. But if Carpy gets word of this he’ll annihilate us in minutes.”

“Matt,” using a informal greeting to lower the bars of professionalism between two friends, “if you can't trust your Executive Officer, former secret agent, genetically advanced human, who has still kept everyone from knowing his middle name then I got to ask you a question. Who can you trust?”

“You’re right Eric. I’m sorry man.” Wood sat on the edge of his desk, “Here’s the thing. We have a grand total of 29 ships to our rebellion’s name. The Home Fleet currently has 150, not to mention Earth’s static defenses and Earth Spacedock which we both know is bristling with weapons. So...I've committed some terrible things to keep our people and those prisoners alive. I compromised Red Band, so we have reliable Intel on who is doing what and when. Janice Richards meanwhile has worked it so the entire static defense grid will go offline and stay that way when we come in. If we time it right, the worst we’ll face in orbit is the Home Fleet and if we catch them with their pants down? All the better. There’s more, but that’s the jest of it.”

“Why do we have to catch them with their pants down?” A small smile formed on Dushalls lips, “Let me pull them down for you. With Haley’s comet passing by soon and the need for an attack soon to free those prisoners then we have no choice. We can't wait for their guard to be down. We have a asset on the way. You remember Shamus Harper?”

Wood more had in mind giving them an element of surprise through their approach. Either way they were more or less on the same page, “I remember him.”

“Harper has gotten into some trouble and apparently has blown up a Section 31 base. Either way if myself and Harper infiltrate Earth Spacedock prior to the Attack. I’m thinking about 12 hours prior, then we will be able to do something from the inside. Not sure what and I’m counting on Harper to have a better idea of what to do but by using the ‘Grace’ to get in we will be able to thin the herd for you.” Dushall started going over in his mind what they could do. It would have to be a multiple layered trick in order to pull it off. A station had backup systems for the triple backup systems. It would be a challenge but if it helped in their effort than it was worth it.

“That would really help.” Wood mulled it over. Infiltrating and disabling an Immense Class Starbase was no small task - but then Dushall was able to pull off insane things like this. He’d done it before, “Okay. You two can make that happen.”

“Bet your hide we can make it happen. Harper joked one day that him and me were like Batman and Robin. He dubbed us the Federations Dream team.” The sarcasm was obvious on his face. “Lets just say it took me awhile to get used to Harper.”

Wood chuckled, “Between you and me, that makes two of us. He does grow on you though.” He paused in mock thought, “So what, does that make me Commissioner Gordon?”

“You are getting a little grey around your sideburns.” A bit of soft laughter escaped him.

Wood joined in with that merriment. It felt good to let loose a little with a friend, “Keep the guys together for me for now. We’ll get them through this.”

“Aye aye Sir.” Dushalls face changed to show his seriousness at the request made by his friend. “Hopefully Starr and Tybalt have the intruders secured by now. How about we head back to the bridge?”

Wood nodded, “Sounds good,” He stopped suddenly, “Oh, one last thing. See if you can use your special talents to keep an eye on what Mister Thrack is sending to his fellow Cardassians. I had to make a deal with the Devil to break open Red Band - but I’ll be damned if I’m paying in Federation lives.”

“Already on it sir. I had some Nano Bugs following him even when on the Grace. He may be a Marine but he is still a Cardassian.” His obvious biased opinions of Cardassians bled through in that comment.

Wood knew what Dushall meant in this instance. His dealings with Thrack - and the comments the latter made which still haunted him - made clear this was one guy you were wise to keep an eye on, “Good job. Don’t let him leak out anything that those sods could make real use of. Just give them enough to keep them happy.”

Joint Post between Dushall, Harper, Wood

Thrack had just finished an almost decent meal at the mess hall (those replicators just couldn’t get a Cardassian Kanar correct) when the red alert had activated. Though he was not really assigned to this Marine Squad, duty was duty and that meant that Thrack had to response. As the others looked around, he jumped from his seat and ran out into the corridor. It only took a minute to find one of the weapon caches stationed on the Redemption and to get a weapon from it. Then he accessed the computer terminal above it to see what was going on.

He could have called the bridge to find out, but that would just waste time when he could get it straight from the computer. Humans, after all, never really said what they meant in the first place. With his authority access, he couldn’t really see what it was, but there was an area of corridor on this deck that was sealed off with the marines and security forces on the way.

A marine was a marine not matter where they were born, so Thrack headed toward the area, setting his weapon to max stun. As he rounded the corner, he heard a yell and then the sound of stun beams lancing out. He spun around the corner on his knee and brought his rifle up to aim. After all these years, it seemed natural and he was able to acquire his target in less than a second. He pulled the trigger and his beam came at a 90 degree angle from the others… Thrack was guessing that he had come down an adjacent corridor. One of the intruder’s decloaked and Thrack first thought they were Jem’hadar soldiers. He was about to request a fighter to go kill Gul Mordron, but then he realized that they were a different, probably even more deadly predator.

One was felled by several beams and 2 of the marine squad members were down. The other was going down slowly but something seamed to fly out of his hand and strike the Security Chief. Thrack fired again, tagging the intruder in the side of the head and he slouched over to the ground. No doubt he will wake up with an amazing headache, thought Thrack.

Quickly he approached the intersection and came into view of security officers and marines. “Hold your fire. I’m a friendly”, he said, hoping that he too wouldn’t end up in the sick bay due to a hasty shot.

In a few quick words over the coms Tybalt filled Ziva in on the situation, still less words than he had used to tell anyone else because even as he was speaking the scattering fields were being adjusted and the transporters whisking away all and sundry to the medical bay, the two Vorth heading to beds that would get their own scatter and force fields.

Honestly their ability to take that much damage \and still so much as twitch let alone accurately fire some weird bio-weapon things was nearly as concerning as their ability to get on board the ship at warp.

If they were some ultra secret Carpathia gennnie then things were going to have to be very much reconsidered, not least of which the attack on Earth space and the ground missions set to follow.

All of that however rapidly became someone else's problem as a more senior marine arrived on the scene, albeit currently the least trusted one on the ship, even behind Sgt Reynolds who had relatives flying ships against them and who had set up stunners to catch their own side not that very long ago..

"Moving to sickbay sir" was all Tybalt had time to reply to that alien's introduction before the rest of them were beamed up to follow the injured and incapacitated.

| Jp: Wood, Voth, Ziva, Beth, Tybalt
| Sickbay

No sooner had word come that there were intruders on board did the entire Bridge crew start to swing into action trying to find the ship they’d come from. That process was brought to a speedy halt by the Admiral, who had an idea.

“Passive scans only,” Wood ordered, “Lets try not to let our bogie know we’re looking for them.

A few moments later - quite by accident - they found a large concentration of tachyons, exactly like those in the phased temporal anomaly they’d recently come out of. The accident lay in the fact the ship’s sensors had not been put back to nominal settings yet. A phased object shone like a light in the void.

“It’s not a big ship, sir.” Redhead Ensign at Science One reported, “I can trace a rough outline of the vessel. No known configuration.”

“Good job.” Good thing they weren’t advertising their search. At least now he had a slight advantage should these intruders prove hostile.

It wasn’t long before word came from belowdecks that the intruders had been captured, currently stunned and being held in sickbay. One Marine and Lieutenant Commander Star being the only two casualties - thankfully they were only unconscious and would soon wake up.

=^=”Post a guard on our guests Top. Good Work. I’m coming down to have a word with them.”=^=

Having acquired Ziva on her way up, and with his own full screw one of the injured Tybalt turned to Ziva and gestured for her to take up the requested guard positions.. at least until they could get some gold-bellies down here to do their jobs.

That she didn’t currently smell quite as bad as some of the others who had been dragging themselves through the holodeck replicated mud of his storm scenario might have factored in too.

With a nod to Tybalt, Ziva flipped her rifle around and took a spot next to the fully incapacitated intruder's biobed, her gaze flicking around to check the force fields as they went up, an extra precaution to ensure safety of the medical staff.

In a matter of heartbeats Beth’s mission on the holodeck went complete haywire. One moment she was kneeling behind cover, mud soaking her trousers, trying desperately to stem the arterial blood spray, which had already scored a hit on her upper chest and face, of a holo-version of one of her team.

The next moment the red alert went off distracting her attention from the enemy sniper who managed to score a hit to her left shoulder. If the holodeck had disabled itself at the red alert a few moments faster the sniper wouldn’t have gotten the chance to take his shot and her arm wouldn’t now be stinging like a git from the holo-hit.

Swearing in multiple languages Beth exited the now offline holodeck to await further orders with the rest of her team. While they waited to hear what was going on the Sergeant on her team started going over the statistics from their abruptly terminated exercise. Taking the time to clean the worst of the grime off herself she grumbled at the fact she was counted as one of the injured. If it hadn’t of been for the red alert she’d have been fine.

So when the news came that there had been intruders on the ship, which had been caught by none other than her almost-Grandfather, she was more than a little surprised to discover that she was being ordered off to sickbay to treat their marine that had been injured.

Still dressed for battle she wandered into sickbay wondering where Commander Loki was and why her marine couldn’t have come down to the ‘Hut’ where Beth was far more comfortable treating people. Being in someone else’s sickbay uninvited was akin to wandering into someone’s house while they were out and using their hot tub.

“Where’s the Hero of Canton?” Beth asked one of the nurses getting a completely blank look in return “you know the marine they call Janes”.

As the one who had received the least direct hits from the Marine’s rifles, Cal awoke with a strange high pitched grunt. Looking around his unfamiliar surroundings made him think of the fate that had befallen the others back at Distant Origin Site - the last scraps of his species. Forcing a body that ached from head to toe to move, Cal got off his biobed and moved toward the nearest Federations. He raised his voice and gruffly asked, “Why are you doing this to us? What did we ever do to you?”

Beth looked up from her analysis of the blood she had taken from both Star and Janes to look over at the guy talking to her from the other side of the forcefield “you invaded our ship and were spying at best, planning to destroy it at worst, you attacked two of our crew, one of whom was one of my marines,” she the last a little sharply “so until we find out who you are, why you were on our ship uninvited and to keep the rest of our crew safe from your spiny things you stay in there” she told him.

Turning her back on him she went back to looking at the results of the paralytic that the small spines had administered, she wanted to ensure that the drugs she gave the unconscious pair wouldn’t have an adverse effect when mixed with the toxin.

Meanwhile everything that they had had on them from whatever gadget it was that had let them take multiple full strength, full on carbine stunners and still keep moving, through to the scanners they had been using to gather intel (and all the way to some odd dirt from under one claw-nail) was already headed down towards the rapidly assembled science-engineering team, including a transport tech specialist who had cut his teeth on some of the mirror world gadgets last seen on DS9 and a scanner tech who was hoping that their own gear might do what the federation ship scans couldn’t and lift the proverbial veil completely. The unstated aim was not only to remove the potential for harm from the Voth but also to as quickly as possible neutralise their ship’s current advantage.. maybe even board it in return.

“I…” Cal said, before taking a deep breath, “I don’t think you understand me. You are Federation, are you not?”

“Not at the moment, technically,” came the terse reply, “what are you, a cow?”

Ziva snorted in laughter at her friends retort as she cracked her neck while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The one she was keeping an eye on was out cold still, and this was starting to get entertaining.

Cal shook his head, unable to comprehend both the hostility and the words she’d spoken to him. What was a cow? Was it some kind of Federation swear word?  Then he realised what she’d said before that.

“Wait,” He stepped so close to the forcefield that the slightest movement forward would have him shocked by it, “You are NOT Federation? But why are you flying one of their ships? Did you steal it?”

“Three-second rule” was all he got in return.

Belem was starting to stir. Cal glanced back at his colleague and muttered, “That’s what we needed to discover.” He paused and added, “Federations tricked us, took over our ships and sentenced my kind - the last of my kind - to death...we needed to know if you were of them.”

Tybalt stepped in at that, before this spiny handbag’s constant chatter managed to finish winding his ‘granddaughter’ up and got himself ‘anaesthetised’ with something heavy. Disturbing Beth while she worked, especially on someone that you had attacked, was a short route to a painful comedown. “That’s over our rank-responsibility” he asserted, “I’m sure that the Captain and the Admiral would be more than happy to hear more, but right now the lieutenant is purging one of our own of the poison you dumped into his veins.
“So please, take a seat, wait your turn, and maybe have a think about how you’re going to justify armed incursion into a military vessel.. quietly.”

Moving over when 'her' prisoner began to stir slightly, Ziva shot the one talking with Tybalt a look as she spoke. "I'd do as he advises, unless you have something to tell our doc here how to undo what you've caused." She paused, her hands resting on her rifle. "And step back from the field, now."

Having left his Ready Room feeling slightly less like a part of his soul had been sold off, Admiral Wood decided it was high time to deal with a new addition to his mile-long ‘to do’ list - their uninvited guests. Leaving the bridge in the hands of Dushall, he stepped into the turbolift and ordered it to sickbay. It wasn’t long before he was on the other side, marching smartly into sickbay to find a scene as hostile as any battle of the Dominion War.

After all, you didn’t need shots to be flying for hatred to be rife.

With that in mind he took care to ask after his own first, “How are our guys?” He asked with a long look at both of the incapacitated.

“Both are out of it but should be coming around momentarily” she said briefly looking over at him before turning her attention back to the hypospray containing a cocktail of drugs that would counteract the toxin flowing through their veins. She dosed Janes first then dialled down the dosage before pressing the hypo to Star’s neck.

“I won’t know about any lasting effects until they come round but I’m hopeful they’ll be just fine” she added turning to look at Wood finally.

Looking over to the two captives she shrugged her shoulders “as for the walking dinosaurs who knows, I’m not a xenobiologist and not familiar with their anatomy or physiology”.

Wood took stock of that and said, “Thank you Lieutenant. Let me know when our guys are out of the woods.”

With that he turned his attention to Cal, who had stood watching the Admiral intently. The intensity of the alien’s stare sent a chill down Wood’s back, which he shrugged off for the time being, “I’m going to get right to the point. Why are you on my ship?”

Cal matched Wood’s gaze. It was obvious he understood. The Voth’s response was equally to the point, “We wanted to observe you, to see if your communications matched your actions. To see if you are NOT of Federation. We wanted to know if we could trust you to help us.”

A low growl rumbled from the dark skinned Urk hybrid, her scarlet eyes darkened as she took a step closer to the force field. "Trust is a two way street, popping out of no where, coupled with injuring two of ours, does not earn you trust--it earns you an @ss kicking out the nearest airlock." She growled, her elongated 'tusk' teeth showing as she glared at the intruder, growing tired of his, in her eyes at least, incessant chatter.

Wood held up a hand to stem an escalatory response he sensed was coming from Cal, “Aggressive tones aside, Creed is right. You hardly worked to earn the trust of those you planned to approach for help. Nor are you really giving us much to work with. What is it you need help with? Why are you so hung up on not working with the Federation?”

Cal sighed, “I see your point.” He admitted, “At our species’ last encounter the level of technology we observed in your Voyager ship led us to believe we could move under personal cloak without fear of detection -”

“Voyager?” Wood interrupted, “Why don’t we start there. Who are you and when did you encounter the starship Voyager?”

“Our encounter with your Starship Voyager took place in the year x566941 - 2373 to you. We are the Voth.”

Things started to click into place in Wood’s mind. They had encountered Voyager when she was still deep in the Delta Quadrant - one of the lesser known encounters of that ship’s now legendary voyage. He could see why now - they seemed fairly benign.

“What brings you to this Quadrant looking for help?” Wood got back to the real point.

“We had a…” Cal paused as if searching for the right word, “Cataclysm. It left us with no city ship and less than 4,000 members of our kind left living. With extinction a very real threat we needed somewhere safe to rebuild. What you call the Delta Quadrant is not that place any more, so we looked for a new home far from the cause of our problems. That is when my colleague Belem here discovered the work of Forra Gegen - Distant Origin. His evidence was compelling yet heretical to Doctrine. Well, with our existence on the line Doctrine simply gave way to pragmatism. The evidence convinced us where our home really is, so we decided to go there - to Earth.”

“Earth was your home?” Wood asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Belem croaked groggily from behind his colleague, “Your Voyager crew helped Gegen confirm that. Our species and yours share common DNA markers unique to species from Earth. Distant Origin proved we evolved from a species of Dinosauria called Hadrosaurs. We left that world for reasons unknown Millions of Cycles ago - so long that our kind have long since forgotten that aspect of our history.”

“We came to Earth, hoping your Voyager had come home and told the Federation government about us.” Cal added, “The Federation Government greeted us with open arms. A President Carpathia personally messaged us and welcomed us home - but it was a trick. By the time the trap was sprung there was nothing we could do to stop them. Our craft was the only one able to escape - after our Captain depressurised the ship and sacrificed half our crew to ensure the survival of the rest. Most of my kind is imprisoned and we intercepted communications from Earth that Carpathia wants to quietly dispose of my people and strip our ships for their technology! He means to render us extinct!”

Belem placed a hand on Cal’s shoulder to calm him, “You see, Admiral, why we need your help?”
 
“With respect sir” Tybalt interjected, as politely as he could, “none of that sounds beyond the MO of Carpathia, but nor does using the leverage of captured families to insert coerced agents” he suggested, not particularly feeling the need to point out that cloaking and poisoned needle things weren’t exactly the habitual hallmark of friendly open folks. “Perhaps if they gave us some big @ss sign of good faith that we can be pretty sure Carp-face wouldn’t have wanted to give up…

“Otherwise we really do have to treat them as very real security risks Sir” he finished, completely talking around the lizard man and well aware of how rude that was, but also far from adverse as to applying a little extra pressure in the hope of getting something in return for the help he was already pretty sure they would give if the need was real.

After all leaving anyone in the hands of Carpathia’s tankie psychos wasn’t really something they wanted on their consciences…. and they might well be in the neighbourhood.

Wood listened to the Sergeant and realised he had a good point. They did not know much about this species, how they operated or what their intentions really are. More than one ship had been lost in the past to being duped in the ‘damsel trap’. His gaze was fixed up Cal, watching him, weighing him up. The Voth man returned the gesture - almost defiantly, like a cornered animal.

“Hey how you feeling?” Beth asked behind them as Corporal Janes woke up and struggled to sit. She moved to his side and supported him until he got his balance. A quick glance at the readings on the biobed showed that everything looked okay.

“I got a stinking headache and a funny taste in my mouth but okay otherwise” he said not really paying the female marine much attention as he looked over at where Admiral Wood and the Master Sergeant were talking with the aliens that had attacked him. Giving him a cup of water and something for his headache Beth turned and leaned one hip against the side of his biobed to watch the show.
The air could be cut with a knife. In his peripheral vision Wood could see Belem trying to placate his - he guessed younger - compatriots’ impassioned stand-off.

“Show yourselves. Decloak your vessel and make contact the right way.” Wood commanded.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Cal snapped indignantly.

“It begins by taking a step out in faith,” Wood responded, “Question is - are you willing to take it?”

Cal turned to his elder Belem, seeking some kind of guidance. It was obvious that Belem had spent the time he’d been quiet getting himself acquainted with his surroundings, weighing up who he was dealing with - they were obviously an intelligent species. Not ones for doing anything bull-headedly. Slowly he nodded assent.

“Okay. Let us message the ship.” Cal said with a strange nasal voice - that sounded a lot like a sigh.

“Lower the force field Lieutenant Moondark.” Wood said

“Top?” Wood nodded at Belem and Cal, “Escort these gentlemen to the Bridge.”

With a gesture for Ziva to mark one flank and the other accompanying marines to likewise fall into position Tybalt did just that, leading the jumpsuited lizard-men out of the hitherto crowded secure area of sickbay and back into the corridors of the wider Redemption; through to a turbolift  and finally up and out onto the broad sloped expanse of the flagship’s bridge, and the further security of the goldbellies stationed there.

===Bridge=====

It was time for answers. Admiral Wood followed the escort party to the Bridge, watching carefully as the elder alien gave a bewildered Ensign at Ops instructions on how to contact his ship. The Ensign immediately turned to the Admiral, who gave a curt nod to proceed.

"Madam Vashta, this is Belem," The Elder alien stated, "Apologies for this. I am contacting you from the Federation vessel -"

"You got caught." Madam Vashta's voice cut through the air like an icy wind, "On an unauthorised observation mission."

"Well..." Belem stammered the beginnings of an explanation when Cal cut in.

"It was my fault, Madam." He admitted, "I persuaded him that an immediate observation trip was the only way to determine if these Federations were really different from the ones we met at Earth. I had no idea they were now able to detect us under cloak. It was-"

"Thoughtless and frankly, beneath you." Vashta finished the sentence for her subordinate, "Put the Federation commander on."

Wood took a breath and stepped forward, "Admiral Matthew Wood of the Starship Redemption. Just why did your people feel the need to undertake an 'observation' mission on my ship?"

Vashta did not lose her composure, "I assume they explained what has happened to our kind?"

Wood nodded.

"We were the only craft to escape. Being a mere survey craft we were at the back of the fleet when it arrived at Earth. The squad of Federation soldiers beamed to our vessel were slow and did not spread out in time for the order to overwhelm us... We came in good faith!"

"I'm sorry for the way you were treated," Wood sighed, "This is not how our people usually respond to a race in need, I assure you."

"Well." Vashta did not sound convinced - understandably, "That remains to be seen. Any way, a handful of our ships were able to broadcast a scrap of warning once the Federations got going. I sacrificed half my crew decompressing the deck they were on. We made a blind Transwarp jump and came out nearby your location - we picked up your transmissions through subspace. The content intrigued us. At no point did our previous encounter with your kind suggest your society was so....fractured..."

"So you wanted to learn more, establish this wasn't some kind of trap." Wood finished her sentence.

"Precisely."

"Forgive me," Wood held up a hand, "But our meeting has not been on what we could call ideal terms. Like you - we are not in a position to survive mistakes of judgement. How do I know I can trust you?"

If Vashta had an eyebrow, he was sure it would have been raised by his question. Her tone certainly implied it, "A shrewd question, Admiral. I do, however, have evidence to corroborate our story."

"Okay. Then let us do this on level ground. Reveal your ship, sheilds down and any weapons offline. You've taken detailed scans of our vessel, I assume, so as we do the same - you'll know we will not be able to bring either back online fast enough to catch you off-guard. Sound fair?"

Another pause which confirmed what Wood assumed was true, "All right." She said, "On the count of three."

"One." Wood said.

"Two"

"Three."

Wood gestured to his bridge crew as the alien ship shimmered into view - and existence. It really was a tiny craft - about the size of a small pleasure yacht. His gesture was to turn off weapons and shields. Time for trust to be earned.

"Scan us," Vashta challenged, "You'll find us unarmed - vulnerable."

"I'm not interested in conquest Madam," Wood responded, "But I would like to see that evidence."

Vashta nodded. In seconds Redemption was receiving a large stream of data - voice and video files.

"Our ships record communication data sent and received. Sadly we were not monitoring your internal channels at the time."

Wood thanked her and waited for the girl at Ops to verify the files. A moment later she gave the thumbs up.

"Play them shipwide. Let everyone hear what has happened to these people."

"...You have endured a long, arduous journey - escaped a cataclysm to find your long lost home," President Carpathia's silky voice was unmistakable, "Although it may not be the home you left - I would like to say on behalf of the United Federation of Planets that we welcome you with open arms. You are safe now."

An unidentified voice replied, "Thank you President."

"You immediately will receive advisers who will help facilitate a safe entry into Earth space. Again, Welcome home Voth - our long lost brothers."

There was a pause. The operations Ensign explained that was her skipping ahead to the first major burst of activity in audio.

"Wha-" It was the unidentified Voth leader again. He sounded bewildered, "Why are you doing this? Hello? President? What is the- ugh!"

Phaser fire and barked orders could be heard in the background.

"We trusted you!" Some other Voth - a female - cried out before a flurry of weapons fire silenced her protest.

"FedPol Alpha 1. Ship secured."

"Haha! Like takin' candy from a baby!" A trooper snickered, earning slapping sounds that could have been high fives from his chortling comrades.

"Indeed," The voice of Alpha 1 was cold, "Tag the prisoners for transport. Then you may gloat."

The audio closed. Ops reported there was much more, including a handful which bore Federation encryption codes.

Wood nodded and thanked the young Ensign, his voice low and his blood boiling. This was worse than heresy in his mind. Deep in his soul he knew this wrong had to be put right - adding it to fuel the fire that drove him to plan a prison break on Earth in the first place.

Only now there was more at stake than simply freeing innocent Federation citizens.

Carpathia would have taken those ships because it was obvious these Voth were technologically far beyond their own capabilities. Phased personal cloaks, working Transwarp and goodness only knew what other treasures those Voth ships contained. More than enough to make the Federation an unstoppable force in the quadrant - that much was for sure. But there was no way he could hold those Voth prisoner without the deceived masses eventually seeing what was really going on. Wood realized if he was doing what Carpathia was doing...there would only be one solution to the Voth problem...

Now they would go to Earth to prevent a Genocide as well.

"Thank you Madam Vashta. I will contact you momentarily. My crew and I need to talk, feel free to listen in on your sensors."

With that Vashta simply cut the com-link. Wood didn't pay it much heed. Instead he turned his attention to his people.

"I want a word with my staff. Now. Top Sergeant and company - bring our guests with you."

[ALL]

---Federation Maximum Security Prison, Austria/Germany Border---

---Warden’s Office---

“Warden...there’s a call coming in for you.” A young secretary stated as she stood near the entrance to the office. “It’s from President Carpathia’s office.”

“Patch it through.” The warden sharply stated as he walked from his window facing the courtyard back to his desk. A monitor emerged from the depths of the solid oak designed desk. Soon, the President’s seal appeared on the console before disappearing to an image of Carpathia himself.

“Mr. President.” The Warden stated as he coldly nodded to the screen.

“Warden….” The President stared back with a similar emotionless gaze. “Intelligence reports that an unscheduled communication entered your facility approximately 12 hours ago. It was heavily encrypted.”

The warden simply nodded his head in acknowledgement. “It looks like the puzzle pieces are falling into place. We’ll soon know who the rebels are - and from there….”

Carpathia shook his head. “We need to respond to this now. Find out who got it out and take care of it.”

“Understood, sir.” The warden paused for a moment to glance out the window to the courtyard. “Shall I use the guards….or should I use her to take care of it?”

A slight grin came across Carpathia’s face. “Let’s see what she can do.”

--Courtyard---

Another batch of snow had fallen overnight, covering over the courtyard once more. It was something that Kandice was starting to get used to - the freezing temperatures, snow, and violent guards. Her days on the yard seemed to be more peaceful as well in recent weeks - especially after particular conversations held with some others on the yard.

Gusts of wind blew through the yard area, picking up snow and covered over Kandice as she trudged through the ankle deep snow drifts. With the temperatures that were outside that day, it would take everything they had to try and stay warm for the mandatory hour on the yard.

After a few minutes of pushing through the snow, Kandice finally positioned herself along a wall on the south side of the complex. There, she was by herself with no one remotely close to her. Normally, it would not be a safe move to stand like that, but today was an exception.

Soon, a small pack of people lead by Larnell started approaching her. Under most circumstances, it was something that Kandice dreaded - the foul smell from the Tellarite was enough cause to want to stay away from him. Today’s encounter would be different as he and three others circled around her in a usual fashion.

“Well….Hello, Cupcake.” Larnell chuckled as he grinned from ear to ear.

Kandice crossed her arms as she stared coldly toward him. “So...what do you got for me?”

Larnell shook his head slightly. “Now now….what happened to manners, cupcake?”

Kandice quickly responded back “Let’s not worry about manners right now. Did you or did you not get the message?”

Larnell reached over as one of his group mates handed him a small piece of paper. From there he reached out and handed the paper over to Kandice. “It was just one word that came back. Not even sure what it means.” Larnell shrugged as Kandice glanced down at the paper.

Larnell was correct. It was one word.

“Allons-y.” Kandice murmured to herself.

She shredded the piece of paper into the smallest pieces that she was able to and lightly tossed them into the air, allowing the wind to scatter them and carry them away.

“What does it mean?” Larnell asked as he watched the pieces of paper be carried away by the strong gusts.

“It’s French…” Kandice responded with a slight smirk on her face. “It means: Let’s go.”

Kandice placed her hands back into her pockets as she began to walk away from Larnell. “Hey, what about my payment, cupcake?” Larnell growled out toward her. She turned around and winked at him. “We’ll talk about that tonight.”

As Kandice walked back toward the main entrance area, she hummed a light melody as a smile graced her face for the first time in a while. One small piece of paper would begin a chain of events that would change the entire landscape of the prison - and lead to an escape. For her, today would be an especially good day.

---After lights out - Cell Block E - Larnell’s Cell---

It was a good thing to have a lot of pull on the block. Supplies that were considered contraband - such as real food, books, and other things seemed to be overlooked by guards when they go by Larnell’s cell in searches. An established prison empire was his legacy and his connections on the outside allowed him to live in relative luxury compared to others.

“Larnell.” A guard spoke out from the entrance of the cell quickly caused him to awaken out of his slumber. “What is it?” He grumbled out as he arose to the side of his bed, glaring at the guard.

Kandice came around from the corner and nodded to the guard. “You have 30 minutes….enjoy.” The guard said as he opened the door and pushed her in. “What’s going on here?” Larnell asked as he stood up. Kandice quickly hushed him as she entered further into the room. “Keep it down. We don’t want to wake the others.”

She sat down upon the edge of the bed, motioning for Larnell to join him. “I told you I would pay you back, didn’t I?” Kandice said with a grin on her face. “I see….” Larnell said as he sat down on the bed next to her. “Well...how about that. Time for me to enjoy a nice tasty cupcake afterall.”

Kandice stood up in front of him as she teased his long hair. “Now before we get started, I thought we should enjoy a nice drink…” As she unzipped the top portion of her jumpsuit down slightly and pulled out a flask.

“Now where did you get that?” Larnell asked as he stood up, staring deeply into her eyes. “My apologies, Larnell….I had to go through one of your competitors for this.” Kandice said as she playfully pushed him back onto the bed.

Larnell reached out and grasped the flask from her hands. He lifted it to his nose and briefly took a whiff of the aroma from it. “Tellarian wine. You really know how to impress someone.” He chuckled before he took several gulps from the flask.

As Larnell laid back onto the bed, Kandice slowly crawled on top of him, staring down with her own grin. “Well, I figure this would be a good way to celebrate.” She leaned down slightly and began to run her fingers through his hair again as she lightly kissed him on the neck.

“Wait...celebrate what?” Larnell asked as he lightly pushed her up away from him for an explanation.

She chuckled slightly as she flirtatiously rubbed her hand down his chest. “Why, your death, of course.” Larnell glared at her as he quickly pushed her off of the bed and attempted to rise. “It’s too late, Larnell.” Kandice said as she stood up from the ground. “The poison is already circulating in your body. You should already be experiencing the side effects now. Blurred vision, trouble breathing, heart racing.”

“Why?!” Larnell gasped out as he clutched onto his bed as his knees hit the ground. His breathing began to be labored as he clutched onto Kandice’s jumpsuit, staring up toward her.

“President Carpathia would like to thank you for your service while in here. Your information proved to be quite valuable for several nuisances to the Federation - however, your services are no longer needed.” Kandice coldly stated to him as she grabbed his wrists and forced him to let go of her. “President Carpathia sends his regards.” She whispered into his ear as she leaned down and gently kissed his forehead.

Larnell gasped for air a few more moments before his body laid motionless on the ground. Moments later two prison guards walked up to the cell door and opened it. Kandice turned around toward them and nodded. “You know what to do.” She calmly exited the cell and was escorted away by another guard as the first two entered in.

Moments later, Kandice was escorted up to her cell door with a worried Amy staring at them. “Kandice, are you ok?” She asked as the doors opened and Kandice was let inside.

“I’m fine.” She responded as she sat down upon her bed. “I wasn’t feeling well before lights out and they took me to the infirmary to get some medicine. I’m ok though.”

Amy nodded softly to her as she hugged Kandice, relieved. “Good. I was scared they took you downstairs to the playroom.”

“No...I’m fine.” Kandice said with a light smile on her face. “Listen...we better get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

Amy nodded slightly as she climbed up into her top bunk. “Good night, Kandice.”

“Good night, Amy…” Kandice said as she slowly closed her eyes to sleep.

Harper's small ship had arrived to find the Redemption was in a stage of heighten alert their shields were up and their weapon systems well not armed were on stand by. Harper knew this because he had added a small program to his transmission to Eric not that he didn't trust Eric but when you work in a building for years where basically anyone will sell you out, you become a little paranoid and Harper was already more than a little paranoid before he started working there so it had only become worse. The program Harper added was a small little thing but it aloud him when he was with in range to keep a passive eye on all of the Redemption systems, and if needed arm a few things with out being forced to use a terminal but those commands he had to be close, close enough to lick the shields and getting that close with out being seen would be hard.

=/\=Harper to the almighty Admiral Wood requesting you lower your shield so I can come aboard=/\=

<Wood>

There ewas a reason the conference room was close to the bridge and in this case it certainly helped, Tybalt his team and the 'guests' quickly moving from the relatively clear space of the cutting edge bridge to the more enclosed one of the table dominated room.

The design of the place (and the chairs) might have been odd to the two guests but they were quickly settled into a pair of chairs near the top of the table, close enough to contribute but still far enough away that it would take more than a casual effort to reach where the Admiral would be leading the discussion.

For their parts, and fully aware that no slight was intended by it Tybalt and his marines didn't sit, instead taking up positions 'overwatching' the guests and out of the way of the officers who would actually be having the discussion.

The CMO might be taking some personal time but her duty surgeon was clearly on the ball (or trying to compensate for having Beth run the sickbay while she had been out training), and was the first to arrive, shortly followed by a duty the resident intel chief and a guy from Ops-admin both of whom had been going over the various training programmes that ahd been worked up for the upcoming assault on Earth.

If they were surprised to find a couple of walking handbags at the big table then each of them was professional enough not to say anything until they had more information... either that or simply becoming jaded enough that even yet another unexpected encounter in deep space hadn't really registered on their weird meters.

| Sickbay > Briefing Room
| USS Redemption

Beth had remained behind in sickbay to do some last check-ups of her now awake patients, she wanted to make sure that all traces of the paralytic toxin was out of their systems before releasing them both back to a day of light duties.

Humming to herself as she waited for the computer to process the latest batch of tests she had ordered on their bloodwork she stood at a sink scrubbing the combination of camo paint, fake blood and mud off of her face. Beth had received word from one of her senior officers that her part in the training missions was done for the moment so she took the chance to clear up a little. There wasn't much she could do about her mud covered clothing and body armour but at least she wouldn't be scaring off the fleeties based in sickbay.

“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?” One of the nursing staff asked her.

A grateful smile and a nod of her dark head Beth passed on her coffee order to the friendly nurse before going back to Star and Janes' bedsides. The nurse brought over the steaming mug of coffee just as the computer beeped to warn her it was done.

Taking the mug in one hand she tapped on the computer console with the other and quick read over the results. Beth added the latest batch of tests to their medical files before turning to look at the pair.

“It looks like all the toxin is out of your systems with no residual by-products that might cause you trouble. So you are free to return to duty but take things easy for today” she warned the pair “and for Ancestor's sake if you feel at all weird or that something is wrong get your butts back here and checked out, we don't know for sure that there won't be side effects from that stuff so don't take any chances”.

Corporal Janes climbed out of bed with a cocky smile on his face “no worries LT after all those training X I could use an afternoon lounging in the rec room”.

Shaking her head but offering him a grin she all but shooed him out of sickbay. Turning back to Star she offered the woman a smile “I meant what I said Commander any problems and you get back here and checked out fast”.

Beth was just gathering up her things as another call came through from one of her seniors calling for her to attend the briefing room.

Shouldering her pack and rifle she picked up her gently steaming mug of coffee, yoinked one of the cinnamon donuts out of the basket on the nurses station and made her way up deck to the briefing room.

Arriving at the briefing room she saw that their two 'guests' were sitting at the long table along with a variety of senior officers from the various departments around the ship. Deciding to leave the seats to the senior officers Beth moved over to stand beside Tybalt “wanna bite?” she offered waving the half eaten donut in his direction.

TAG: Tybalt, Star, briefing buddies.

== USS Redemption ==
== Main Conference Room ==

Thrack entered the Conference Room, fully aware that his presence was probably an irritation to most there. The Marine, to which he was technically a part of, really took no pleasure in him being the ranking officer among them. As to not destroy their unity, Thrack had remained far enough removed from them that Tybalt, though the more junior ranking officer, was still in command of the Marine Squad.

The ship officers, Thrack had no doubt, probably wanted to dump him somewhere and Admiral Wood, though he had not mentioned it, was seriously doubting the deal he had made with the Cardassians.

Thrack also knew that he was being watched, every second of every day. Though he had no proof, he would bet his life on it. As such, for things that he needed to get accomplished in his quarters, he couldn’t be there. Luckily he had rigged up his P90X device to do most for him. While he was gone, the device that Admiral Wood had used to log into the Red Band, was still connecting to it, downloading messages that met certain criteria. It would then relay it to his console in an encrypted coding that he had memorized. It was one that he had first learned while being trained by the Obsidian Order… one that he was so familiar with that he could read it just as easy as most people would read basic…. And he couldn’t wait to get down to the prison and apply it to the computer systems there. It wasn’t just people that were housed there… information was to be had as well.

It was also how Thrack knew about the Voth and when he entered the Conference Room, he merely looked interested, but under his breath, he said, “So that is what the Voth look like, very curious.”

Like the other Marines, Thrack didn’t sit, he merely stood towards the head of the room at the edge, surveying the people/beings that were assemblying.

[tag others]

Tybalt took the offered bite with a grateful nod, then grimaced at the taste, offering his 'granddaughter' a only partly jesting glare at both her 'trick' and her continuing heresy in chosen doughnut flavours. Honestly, like jam fillings were that hard to understand... well at least it wasn't that pointless waste of opportunity that was simple sugar ring ...

Somehow he didn't expect her to be the slightest bit repentant however, that particular 'discussion' having been going on nearly as long as they had known one another

Whatever response she might have had however was cut off as their new detachment officer arrived, his pale skin contrasting heavily with the deep green of their shared collar colour. Apparently he was no more eager to sit in on the chin wag than Beth was and he came to join them instead, finally getting a better lok at one of the aliens he had shot earlier.

"With respect, they can look like the back end of a rotagurian nerve-spider if they want, just as long as their phasing cloak can be worked into the assault and maybe mean less of our people are facing the guns of our colleagues."

Which was perhaps the very worst part about this particular thing, the bit they were all doing their best to gloss over, that without a doubt they were going to lose people to their own side, and perhaps even more tragically they were going to have to kill people who wore the same uniform as they, people who were guilty of no more than not having a chance to hear what Wood had accumulated before this rebellion started.

In all honesty Tybalt wasn't going to blink twice at having to off some augment 'tanks' defending a prison, but it was tanking a lot more soul searching to come to terms with the unavoidable casualties that would ensue from a space battle, casualties that even if only one ship was downed could already begin to edge into the thousands.

All for the ego of one nut job sitting in the federation's central chair.

Entering the bridge Emily made short work of the distance from the turbolift to the briefing room. ‘Whoosing’ open as she neared, her feet only slowed to offer a nod to the Admiral and others before taking a seat.

“Sorry I’m late,”Emily said, interrupting whatever had previously been going on, “Your meeting caught me just as I was discharged from Sickbay. A girl needs to change after being knocked unconscious.”

It was then she noted their guests and her brow raised, “Okay...what did I miss? As I’m pretty sure the reason I was in sickbay first off was because of them.”

tag all

OOC : Yes its short but if I didn't write something I was going to miss everything

Lieutenant Commander Senka, chief of operations, has been sitting at the long, rectangular briefing room table as the officers and guests gather. Fingers steepled before him, he studies the assemblage of agitated officers, agitated marines, agitated Voth, and the agitated Cardassian. His eyes flick over Wood at the head of the table, though no one yet present would have any idea of just what the Vulcan is thinking. He hasn't had a great deal to do beyond his normal duties of late, as the tactical drills and even the boarding of the Redemption had fallen to the marines and, more immediately, to Star's security forces.
She puzzled, perplexed and intrigued him, if truth be told. Unfortunately, the chaotic events in Federation politics, especially as they impacted the Redemption and its crew, had left him little time to get to know any of his fellow officers. That she was Vulcan, he knew. One could sense the presence of a Vulcan-trained mind, though that she was something else was obvious. Human? Romulan? He was not sure. As he constructed decision trees and chains of logic in an attempt to answer the question, the doors opened and Star arrived. Senka gave no hint whatever that he'd been allowing his mind to speculate about her or about anything else. As she made her quasi-flippant apologies, not even an eyebrow raised as the Vulcan awaited the start of the briefing.