by Jesse Catalano and Edward H. Bart IV

USS TITAN, FEDERATION STARSHIP
NEUTRAL ZONE, FEDERATION SIDE
0415 HOURS, SOL STANDARD TIME (SST)

        "Commencing subspace traffic scan now, Colonel."
        Private Oskanna Petrovitch ran her practiced hands over the sensor console. Her fingers moved quickly and mechanically as Petrovitch entered the commands by rote.
        She paused to let her steel-grey eyes glance over the monitor facing her. "So far, nothing out of the ordinary, sir. Shipping traffic chatter, encrypted fleet commands, et cetera. Same as it was yesterday."
        Colonel Francis Temijin nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he continued to circle the Titan's bridge. His faint Asian features wrinkled as he frowned. "Very well. Move onto the next scan."
        "Yes, sir," Petrovitch nodded. She stifled a yawn, turning her head so the colonel wouldn't see it. Once again, her fingers moved, and once again, the Titan's sensors reached out into space.
        One of the turbolift doors opened. Out stepped a young handsome man. Corporal William Thane carried a steaming mug of coffee, and smiled at the corporal. "I'm back. So, where are we on the checklist?"
        Petrovitch glanced at Thane. "Long range infrared scans," she replied with a slight smile.
        "Thanks," Thane smiled back. He walked up next to the private and leaned against the console, reading over the monitors.
        Petrovitch stole a glance at Thane and blushed slightly.
        "Corporal Thane," Temijin spoke, "I believe I shall retire to my quarters early. The shift's nearly over. Why don't you take the conn until Commander Tinsdale comes on watch?"
        "Yes, sir," Thane nodded.
        "Needless to say, if a situation arises, contact me immediately."
        "Of course sir. Have a good evening's sleep."
        Colonel Temijin nodded and headed to the turbolift, leaving the sparsely manned bridge.
        Thane walked over to the center command seat, and sat down. "Feels good," he remarked, of the seat. "It's not mine though. One day though, I will."
        "No doubt about that, William," Petrovitch replied.
        The others on the bridge glanced at one another. The admiration was glaringly obvious in Petrovitch's voice and attitude. Admiration and perhaps a little adoration.
        "Ah, William's for grown-ups. I told you, call me Billy," Thane said, leaning against an armrest. "Anything on infrared?"
        "Nothing."
        "Move on," Thane waved his hand in a rolling motion.
        "Moving onto ultraviolet emissions."
        Thane crossed his legs and leaned back in the command seat, glancing at a small console on one of the armrests. He frowned, and uncrossed his legs, placing both feet squarely on the deck.
        "Oskanna, go back to the radiation scan you did while I was in the galley" Thane asked.
        "Okay," Petrovitch complied.
        Thane peered intently at the armrest console.
        "What is it?" Petrovitch asked.
        "I don't know. Something looks off here," Thane said. "I just noticed what seems to be several patches of anomalous radiation in a fairly empty sector of space."
        "I see it too," Petrovitch said. "It could be anything though."
        "I know. But that means something's there when previously there wasn't. Can you push sensor range to the max and scan that sector?"
        "We'd run the risk of exposing ourselves."
        Thane nodded. His casual and confident grin returned. "I'm hoping the reward outweighs the risk."
        Petrovitch nodded and turned around back to her station. Moments later, she spoke out, "I've boosted sensors."
        "On screen," Thane said.
        The viewscreen showed a flat expanse of space, dotted by stars. Suddenly a patch of stars rippled wildly. "What was that?" Thane asked.
        "I don't know," Petrovitch replied.
        "A cloaked ship of some sort?"
        "It doesn't read like any kind of cloaked ship," Petrovitch replied after scanning her readouts.
        The stars rippled again, and suddenly part of a green-hulled shuttle appeared. "Whoa!" Thane said. "That... looks like a Romulan Shuttle, but..."
        "It's not all there," Petrovitch finished the sentence.
        The viewscreen showed the small hawk shaped Romulan Shuttle flying towards them. However, there were holes in the hull, allowing Thane and the others to see the stars behind it.
        "Uh, sir," Petrovitch said, "It's on a direct course for Federation space."
        "It's going to cross the Neutral Zone?!" Thane turned in his seat, looking at the brunette private.
        "Looks like it, sir."
        "Have they detected us?" Thane asked.
        "No."
        The helmsman, Lieutenant Giraud, spoke up. "Uh, should we move to intercept?"
        "No, wait. It could be a trap. This is the Neutral Zone after all, the stuff of Kobyashi Maru legend. The Romulans could be trying to draw us out. They know we're spying on them, and we know they're spying on us." Thane put a finger to his mouth, thinking.
        "Any weapons armed? Any explosive materials onboard?" he asked.
        Petrovitch shrugged. "I can barely tell anything. It's still acting like a cloaked ship in some respects, I can't scan the interior. There's too much interference from whatever kind of cloak it is."
        "Okay. Lucien," Thane spoke to the helmsman, "back us away from the Zone. I don't want our courses to intersect."
        "Yes, sir," Giraud nodded.
        "Oskanna, how far is it from the Neutral Zone now?"
        "It just entered the Zone," Petrovitch said.
        "Oookay..." Thane leaned back. "The minute they make an aggressive move, let me know. Hell, the minute they do anything, let me know."
        "Yes, sir."
        Thane tapped his combadge. "Bridge to Colonel Temijin. You better come up to the bridge. There's something happening."
        "On my way," Temijin replied.
        "Sir, they're hailing us," Petrovitch announced.
        "Us specifically?" Thane blinked.
        "No," Petrovitch shook her head. "It's a general hail for any Federation ship. Audio only."
        "Put it through."
        The speakers crackled with static. "Any Federation ship in the location, this is Lieutenant Robert Castillo, a Starfleet officer. I've just escaped. I need immediate assistance! This shuttle's falling apart, the core is overloading!"
        Thane shook his head. "Can't you clear that static up? I can barely understand him."
        "It's the cloak interference," Petrovitch said.
        "Run a check on Castillo."
        "Already checking," Petrovitch replied. "Got him. Lieutenant Robert Castillo, MIA, presumed dead, over 24 years ago."
        "No way a POW could survive that long, especially in Romulan hands. Got to be a trick," Thane muttered. "What ship is he from?"
        "Uh, the Enterprise."
        "24 years ago? You don't mean the Enterprise-C?"
        "Yes, sir."
        Thane sighed. "Can you verify it's him?"
        "I can't tell you if he's really human or Romulan, if there's just one person or a dozen," Petrovitch said. "I can tell you this much, the shuttle's showing signs that could mean it's going to explode."
        "How soon will it cross over into Federation space?"
        "It's not going to. It's losing speed, and at this rate, it could blow before entering Fed space."
        "Damn it," Thane slammed a fist onto the armrest. He thumbed the armrest comm console. "Transporter Room One, prepare to beam aboard an unknown number of people. I want a full security detail, and a medical team."
        Thane looked up at Petrovitch. "I want some kind of sensor lock, can you do that?"
        "I'll try my best, but the interference..."
        "I know. Just do it," Thane nodded. He looked at the helm. "Lucien, plot an intercept course. Take us into the Neutral Zone, full impulse."
        "Belay that order!"
        Temijin stood in front of the turbolift. "What's going on here, Corporal? You know our orders are to avoid incursion of the Neutral Zone at all costs."
        "I have no time to explain, sir. Trust me. Lucien, I still have the conn. My order stands."
        Giraud looked at Thane, then at Temijin. "I'm sorry, sir. I agree with Corporal Thane."
        Temijin sighed. "Thane, go to Red Alert. I don't know what's going on, but I want us to be ready for anything."
        "Yes, sir," Thane nodded, a hint of a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
        "Entering the Neutral Zone now," Giraud announced. "Time to intercept, 23 seconds."
        "How's the shuttle doing?" Thane asked.
        "Not good. It's definitely in trouble."
        "Record everything you can so we can at least have something to give to HQ if this backfires," Thane said. "Replay the message we got for the colonel."
        Temijin listened to the static filled message. "You're right, it very well could be a trap. Private, do you have a sensor lock?"
        "I have a lock on one person," Petrovitch said, "but I'm having difficulty maintaining it."
        "Is there a security team in the transporter room?" Temijin asked Thane.
        Thane nodded. "Of course sir."
        "I have a suggestion," Giraud said. "We're in tractor range, if we put a beam on them, maybe that'll help the transporter lock."
        Temijin nodded. "Do it."
        "Tractor beam engaged, I've got them," Giraud said.
        "The sensor lock has cleared up," Petrovitch said. "But the tractor beam just made things worse. It's going to blow any nanosecond!"
        "Transporter Room, one to beam up now!" Thane shouted in his combadge.
        Petrovitch turned in her seat and shouted across the bridge. "Lucien, get us out of here now!"
        "But the transporter..." Lucien frowned.
        "Now!"
        The viewscreen showed the green shuttlecraft's hull cracking. It shrunk in the distance as the Titan moved away. The viewscreen brightened as the shuttle flared up in a brilliant explosion. The bridge swayed slightly.
        "Damage report?" Temijin asked.
        Thane looked at his armrest console. "Minimal. We were out of range."
        "Good. Good call, Private," Temijin nodded. "Lieutenant Giraud, are we in Federation space?"
        "Yes, sir."
        Temijin tapped his combadge. "Transporter Room One. Were you able to complete the transport?"
        "Yes, and you probably should come down here."
        "Is it a Romulan?" Temijin asked.
        "No, he's definitely human."
        Thane looked up Temijin, with a raised eyebrow.
        
        The two men entered the transporter room. A security team, armed with phaser rifles, stood to the side. A medical officer was kneeling on the transporter platform, next to a lying man.
        "Doctor, how is he?"
        The doctor looked up. "Not good. He's suffering from severe malnutrition and he has many injuries, some old, some new. In addition to that, he recently was exposed to high levels of radiation. I don't think he has long."
        Temijin and Thane kneeled next to the man. Thane got his first look. The man might have once looked young and vibrant, but his wrinkled face showed no signs of that. His long curly hair was grayed. A sparse, wiry beard covered his face.
        However the most striking thing was the man's uniform. It was the old red uniform that Starfleet wore decades ago. It was in tatters now, covered in stains and rips.
        The man coughed, his body racked in spasms. He blinked and looked up at Temijin and Thane. "Are...are you Starfleet?"
        "Yes, we are," Temijin said. "Are you Robert Castillo?"
        "Yes..." The man suddenly lurched up, grabbing at the colonel's black sleeve. "Save them! You've got to save the others!"
        "What others?"
        "My crew. The captain...she's dead..." Castillo sighed, looking away. "And Tasha... but the others are still there!"
        "Where?" Thane asked.
        "I don't know. A moon base of some sort. Not far. Managed to steal a shuttle. There was a radiation leak..."
        "The shuttle had a strange cloak. What was it?"
        "Don't know. Experimental..." The old man broke off in another coughing fit.
        Thane sighed and looked at Temijin.
        Temijin asked, "What about the Enterprise?"
        "Gone..."
        Castillo reached inside his uniform and pulled out an object. He pressed it in Temijin's hands. "Take... take this home for me." He slumped back onto the transporter platform.
        The nearby doctor checked his tricorder. "He's gone."
        Temijin opened his hands, to see a old bar-shaped brass Starfleet insignia. He turned it over to see the back. Etched in the metal were the letters, "U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-C."
        The colonel looked at Thane. "We've got to contact Starfleet Headquarters."


LOG ENTRY ONE

USS DEFIANT, FEDERATION STARSHIP
SOL SYSTEM, FEDERATION SPACE
0824 HOURS SST

        "Mars," Sisko intoned, looking at the viewscreen. The bridge of the Defiant had been quiet, before Sisko spoke. Only three people were on the bridge, Commander Worf, and Doctor Bashir, and finally the captain himself.
        The rest of the small ship was equally as sparse, manned only by a skeleton crew.
        "Brings back memories, does it? After all, it was your old stomping grounds before you got Deep Space Nine, wasn't it?" Bashir inquired, looking at Sisko from his seat at the helm.
        "You could say that," Sisko replied. "Although I'd probably call it my old moping grounds. I don't have much memories of this place, either good or bad. It was just work for me. Work and some play with Jake."
        "I see," Bashir nodded.
        Sisko shrugged off his morbid sentimentality and smiled at Bashir. "So how do you like flying the Defiant?"
        "Oh, it's very nice," Bashir nodded.
        Sisko chuckled. "I'm sure. I'm also sure Ensign Ames will appreciate you taking her shift for her."
        "You think?" Bashir perked up. "I've been thinking of asking her out to eat, maybe on Earth or Io Station, after the seminar at Starfleet Medical."
        "Go for it," Sisko shrugged.
        "I think I will, once we put in."
        Sisko pressed a panel on the console by his right hand. "Utopia Planita, this is Captain Sisko, on the U.S.S. Defiant, requesting berthing instructions."
        The comm system rang with the soft voice of a man. "U.S.S. Defiant, your designated site is Dry Dock 39A. Repeat, 3-Niner-A. Its beacon is on channel 39A."
        Bashir spoke up. "I've located it, Captain. I'm taking us in."
        "Have you ever docked into a dry dock?" Worf asked.
        "No, but I studied the procedures a few hours earlier."
        "Ah yes. I forgot for a moment," the Klingon shrugged, "your brain is engineered."
        "That's okay," Bashir said. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. If you forget, that's great."
        "I shouldn't forget. A warrior should know all about his opponents' advantages."
        Bashir glanced at Worf. "Okay, look. I'm not your opponent anymore. Dax picked you over me."
        "I wasn't talking about that, but thanks for reminding me that she picked me over you," Worf said.
        "Okay, you've had your minimum of sniping today," Sisko said, holding up a hand. "Bashir, just take her in, nice and easy, and let the computer do the work."
        "Which computer are you referring to, the doctor's brain, or the ship's computer?" Worf murmured.
        Sisko sighed. He shook his head, but glanced at Bashir. He was relieved to see Bashir smiling good naturedly.
        "Don't worry, sir. If I scratch the Defiant's hull, what better time to do it than during her upgrade?" Bashir said. He sighed and looked at the viewscreen. The closer they got, the more of the widespread orbital construction platforms they could see. Dozens of ships in various stages of construction could be seen. He tilted his head and smiled.
        "You know, it's funny..."
        "What?" Sisko prompted him.
        "Utopia Planita Shipyards, one of Starfleet's biggest construction sites, is based on Mars, the planet named after the Roman god of War. A place of creation at a place named for destruction. What is war anyway, but destruction?"
        Worf made an amused half-grunt, attracting the attention of Sisko and Bashir. When he saw their eyes on him. "I was reminded just now, of how few gods of war you Humans have. The Klingon pantheon of gods... well before we killed them all, were all gods of war, in one way or another."
        "Ah," Sisko nodded. "Somehow, I'm not surprised to hear that."
        "I already knew that," Bashir pointed out. He glanced at his controls, then up at the viewscreen. The long lattice work of Dry Dock 39A was directly before them. "I'm handing controls over to the computer now," he declared.
        "Allright," Sisko nodded. "Worf, let's get the shutdown sequence started."
        "Aye, sir."

        Sisko, Worf, and Bashir all stepped out of the short-range shuttle. A young woman was standing at the airlock, waiting for them. "Captain Sisko?"
        "Yes?" Sisko said.
        "I'm Lieutenant Commander D'Arby. I'll be in charge of the upgrade team for the Defiant." She offered her hand.
        Sisko took it, shaking. "Well, Commander D'Arby, I'm sure you'll do an excellent job."
        "You don't remember me do you?" she asked.
        Sisko paused and looked at her. "I"m sorry, I can't say that I do."
        "I worked with you for about 6 months. This was my first posting after I finish my starship tour of duty. I was an ensign then."
        "I see. I think I may remember you now," Sisko nodded.
        D'Arby smiled. "Anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself, or rather, reintroduce myself. I also wanted to let you know that we're all proud of the work you're doing out there at Deep Space Nine."
        " 'We' ?" Sisko raised an eyebrow.
        "Yes, sir. All of us here at U.P. We're proud that one of our own is out there doing very well," D'Arby nodded earnestly. "We think you're a real hero."
        Sisko smiled, shaking his head. "Oh, I'm not that much of an hero. You people are the real heroes here. You're working around the clock, building new ships and repairing the damaged ones... you people are the backbone of the starship fleet of Starfleet."
        "That's very nice of you to say, sir."
        "It's the truth," Sisko nodded solemnly. "Now, if there's anything else...?"
        "Oh, no sir. I've said my piece on behalf of the others."
        "Allright. Thanks again. Nice seeing you again," Sisko nodded. He turned and walked down the corridor, followed by Worf.
        Bashir handed D'Arby a PADD. "Here's the keys to the ship," he smiled. "All the codes are there."
        D'Arby nodded and Bashir hurried down the corridor, catching up with Sisko and Worf.

AREA 515, CLASSIFIED LOCATION
EARTH, SOL SYSTEM
1800 HOURS SST

        "Have you ever seen anything like that before?"
        Admiral Stone looked over at the balding man standing besides him. Doctor Martinez pressed his thin lips together, and started gnawing at his thumbnail. Finally he shook his head.
        "No, Admiral. I've not seen anything exactly like it. Sure, I've seen several craft similar to it. We have some in development, but this... this is brand new. Well, not brand new, as you can see. It's a little beat up, which would lend credence to the hypothesis that it was muscled out of the docking bay, which makes me think it's the real deal."
        "I didn't need a long commentary," Stone rolled his eyes, rubbing his hand over his bristly scalp. "You could have simply said yes or no."
        "No, then."
        "Good. Thank you. Do you think you can duplicate some of this technology?"
        "Can I say 'possibly'? Or do you just want an yes or no answer?"
        "Fine. Forget what I said earlier. Speak. Speak to your heart's content," Stone snapped. "All I want to know is- can you duplicate this tech for us? Is it real, not a fabricated hoax? But keep in mind I don't have all day. In fact, I don't even have an hour."
        "Understood, sir," Martinez nodded. "Okay. My team could very likely reverse engineer this. Though it's new, it's still basically Romulan technology, which we can handle. However, since this is brand new so I can't make any guarantees. Plus it seemed to be defective, or damaged, from the sensor readings and eyewitness accounts.
        "As to whether it's real, yes, I think it's genuine. It's a little scary though. They're several giant leaps ahead of us on cloaking technology, from the looks of this."
        Stone frowned and narrowed his eyes. "I thought our stuff was on par with the Romulans' stuff?"
        "That's what I thought until I saw this. Now, acquiring this will help us close the gap, but it'll take time for us to disassemble this, figure out the theory behind this technology, then apply it to our Federation technology. In that time, they could continue making advancements, widening the gap again."
        "Yeah, that's what I was afraid of," Stone said. "Thank you for your time, doctor. I'll let you get to it."
        Martinez nodded, and walked down the scaffolding ladder, joining the rest of the scientists, all clad in white lab coats and carrying PADDS and scanners, milling about the battered green shuttle craft.

STARFLEET HQ, SAN FRANCISCO
EARTH, SOL SYSTEM
1100 HOURS SST

        Admiral Jellico walked into Stone's office. He smiled at the blonde seated in one of the chairs in the office's waiting area. "Hello, Lisa. Congratulations on your recent promotion."
        "Thanks, Edward," Lisa replied.
        "Will you consider working for my office now? I'd love you as an adjutant."
        Lisa chuckled. "I'm happy where I'm working. But thanks for the offer."
        Jellico sat down next to Lisa. "So why're you here?"
        "I'm supposed to have lunch with Dad. But he's tied up with work."
        "Yeah," Jellico nodded. "Something popped up, I heard. In fact that's why I'm here, so he can debrief me."
        "Oh."
        "Don't worry, I'll try to keep it short so he can still make it for lunch."
        "Thanks."
        The door to the inner office opened, and Stone stepped. "Edward," he nodded. He looked over at Lisa. "Sorry, honey. Just a little bit longer."
        "That's okay," Lisa said.
        Jellico stood up and followed Stone inside his office. "What's going on, Zachariah?"
        "Things," Stone said. "Have a seat, I'll tell you about it."

        "Ok, so it's settled then?" Jellico glanced at Stone.
        Stone nodded. "All that's left is to decide what team to send in."
        Jellico stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well obviously this is a very sensitive operation. We'll have to send in the best we can."
        "I know, one's already been selected. Major Ironsides's squad. They should be receiving their orders any moment now."
        "Ahh, Ironsides... I know him. He's good. Yes, he'll do very well for our purposes here," Jellico nodded. "And who'll lead the insertion team?"
        "Well, as luck would have it, we happen to have one of the finest captains here in the area, and two of his crew," Stone smiled grimly. "Ironically, he's here, while Ironsides's team is at his station."

LOG ENTRY TWO

DEEP SPACE NINE, JOINT BAJORAN-FEDERATION STATION
BAJOR SECTOR, FEDERATION TERRITORY
2236 HOURS SST

        Quark's bar was always a hub of activity on the Promenade. The bar was well known for its fine and wide selection of liquors, and gourmet replicator menus. The bar also offered several holosuites and a casino, with a Dabo table. So it came as little surprise that when Ironsides allowed his crew to go aboard Deep Space Nine for some R&R, most of them went straight to Quark's bar. Normally that would make Quark happy, although by the end of the day, Quark wouldn't be happy.
        Up on the second level of Quark's Bar, Master Sergeant Ian MacAuley sipped at his Bolian Fizz, while Lieutenant Kaley Jannsen drank her raktajino. Jannsen was the second in command of the covert ops team, and she felt it was her responsibility to keep a watch over the rest of the men in the bar. MacAuley decided to keep her company.
        "So, any idea what Ironsides is talking to the brass about?" he asked Jannsen.
        "No idea. It was for his eyes only." Jannsen brushed away her frizzy blond hair, keeping it from falling over her eyes as she looked down at her mug.
        "Yeah. Our next mission probably," MacAuley sighed, looking at the ice cubes in his drink. "I was kind of hoping we'd get a little more down time after our last mission."
        Jannsen smirked. "You and me both. Might as well enjoy tonight."
        MacAuley nodded and looked around the bar. From his seat, MacAuley could see Private Bryce Jacoby sitting at the bartop, next to a large brown alien. They seemed to be having a funny conversation; both of them were laughing and drinking together. Over at a table, MacAuley could see Private Amanda Ruiz talking with a female Narendian, while eating.
        MacAuley figured that the Narendian was a fellow pilot. Ruiz loved to talk to pilots, to learn new things. It figured, since Amanda loved flying. Of course, he told himself, it could be an entirely different kind of conversation though.
        MacAuley looked around again, noticing Leo Bogarde at the Dabo table. Obviously hitting on the Dabo girl, as always. As usual, Raven was nowhere to be seen.
        "Hey, Kaley. Would you happen to know where Raven is?" MacAuley asked.
        Jannsen shrugged, "Planetside at his home, I suppose. He declined to come on the station. Something about too many people. He's too tired to telepathically block them out. I don't know."
        MacAuley nodded, and took a sip out of his drink. He mentally ran down a list of the team, and realized he didn't see one other man. "Where'd Donahue go?"
        "I think Malcolm's in a holosuite. Probably in a holosuite, playing one of his beach holoprograms. Supposed to be very relaxing," Jannsen speculated.
        "Aha," MacAuley nodded. He looked back at Bogarde at the Dabo table.
        Leo "The Lion" Bogarde stood at the Dabo table. In front of him was a small fortune in gold pressed latinum strips. Bogarde was grinning. "Hey baby," he said to the Dabo girl operating the wheel, "you must be Lady Luck 'cause I am so hot tonight! Whoo!"
        A Bolian female picked up what was left of her money and shook her head as she walked away from the table. One tall bearded cargo pilot glared at Bogarde from across the wheel.
        "You're cheating!" the pilot accused Bogarde.
        Bogarde blinked, then said, "Care to say that again? Perhaps rephrase that?" The pilot stood up straight. The freighter pilot was quite tall, MacAuley could tell, but Bogarde was still taller. "You're a dirty damn
frelling cheater!"

        Quark's seventh sense warned him that his beloved bar might be in trouble. He looked up from the bar to the Dabo table. He quickly walked up the steps to the wheel, and stood between the pilot and Bogarde. "Now gentlebeings... gentlebeings... what seems to be the problem?"
        The pilot growled, "Yeah, this guy must be cheating!" Bogarde scowled at the pilot. Suddenly, Quark realized that it was a mistake to stand in between the tall hu-mons. Still, he spoke up; "Well that doesn't seem to be the case. I have several anti-cheating monitors, and none of them have warned me of anything. I'm afraid he's just lucky tonight."
        The pilot glared at Bogarde in silence. Then he shouted, "Well I don't
care!" and with that, the pilot launched himself at Bogarde. The two big men
hit the Dabo table, and knocked it over, which was surprising since the table
was bolted to the floor. The men fell to the floor, pounding on each other.
        Everyone at the Dabo table picked up their money and scattered, except for Quark. The other patrons of the bar looked at the scuffle with minor interest, but ultimately decided to stay out of it. It wasn't their problem.
        Quark stood there, moaning at the destruction of his lovely rigged Dabo
table. It cost so much money to get it rigged just right so it was completely
undetectable.
        Bogarde finally broke away from the pilot, and got on his feet, preparing to pummel the man with his boots. The pilot called out, "Jox! Matt! C'mon guys, help me out here!"
        Matt, a tall humanoid, got up from a nearby table, and walked over to
Bogarde, his fists up. Bogarde looked up at the newcomer and tensed up. The pilot backed away from Bogarde, letting Matt through. Matt attacked first, swinging hard at Bogarde's face. Bogarde ducked and counter-punched into Matt's stomach.
        Matt doubled over hard, out of breath, then Bogarde brought his knee up to smash it into Matt's jaw, breaking it into several pieces. Suddenly, Bogarde felt a rumble behind him. He turned around, to see a Brikar stand up from his chair. He turned to see that the pilot had recovered, and how was holding a chair, about to beat him senseless.
        Bogarde paused, now a little worried. Sure, he could handle two men at the same time but a Brikar was not a normal foe. Brikars were basically miniature mountains that could move and talk. Suddenly he saw Ruiz wave behind the Brikar; giving him a thumbs up. What could that girl do to help me? Bogarde thought. The Brikar was practically twice her height, and much stronger.

        "Sorry about this, but I had a great time talking with you. Hope to see you again after this," Amanda Ruiz said to the Narendian, excusing herself from the table. She waved to attract Bogarde's attention. Once making eye contact, she flashed him a confident thumbs up.
        She walked up behind the slowly moving Brikar and tapped the alien on his back. When he didn't respond, she realized he probably didn't feel it. So she punched him in the shoulder. Her fist came away reddened from the crushing impact and she winced. Finally the Brikar turned around. She looked up into his flat, dark and angular face. "Hey, big boy, how're ya doing?" she asked.
        "I'm a female," the Brikar rumbled.
        "Oh. Sorry. Hard to tell the difference. Anyway girlfriend, mind if you stay out of the fight? Or else."
        The Brikar laughed, which was very uncomfortable, since it sounded like
gravel rubbing together. "Or else? What are you going to do little girl?"
        "Well.... this?" Ruiz suddenly spun around, and performed a karate kick, her boot heel hitting the Brikar's waist, with no noticeable effect.
        The Brikar laughed again, "Is that it? I barely felt it." Then the Brikar started to walk forward, intent on stomping on the young woman. However, the Brikar couldn't move. "You little bitch. You broke my gravitational generator!"
        Ruiz smiled sweetly, "Oh, that's right...you're too heavy to walk without one, right?" Suddenly another person grabbed her from behind.

        Bryce Jacoby saw the man surprise Ruiz and got up to assist her. He leapt off the barstool and ran up to the new assailant. He grabbed at the man's arms, jerking them back, making the man let go of Ruiz. Ruiz jabbed her elbow into her assailant's ribcage, cracking one or two ribs. Then Jacoby brought down a two handed fist, smashing into the base of the man's skull.
The man dropped like a sack of Andorian potatoes. Apparently the man had
friends, who were advancing towards the two soldiers. Jacoby and Ruiz
prepared to fight some more.
        Meanwhile, Bogarde watched the pilot walk towards him, with a chair. The pilot raised the chair high, and was about to bring it down on Bogarde's
head, when Bogarde smashed his large fist into the pilot's face. The pilot
flew back from the power of the punch, the chair falling to the floor.
Unfortunately, the pilot fell right onto a table that was occupied by three
Klingons. They were playing a virtual game, and were not happy when the pilot fell right onto the gamesystem, smashing the machine.
        "We were at the last stage of Kahless's Legacy of Honor! It took us weeks to get this far in the game!" one of the Klingons bellowed. Bogarde winced, "Oh, sorry man. I played it once. Hard game."
        "Sorry! Is that all you have to offer?? As you humans say, I feel the need to 'vent some anger'.... on you!"
        With that, the Klingons charged and grabbed Bogarde.

        It was at that point that MacAuley and Jannsen realized that they had to join in the fight.
        Within a few minutes, everybody in the bar was fighting, or trying to escape from the bar. Finally, someone alerted security. A few short moments later, Odo walked down the promenade to the entrance of Quark's bar. As the doors opened to allow Odo and his men in, Quark flew out, rolling onto the floor. He looked up to see Odo looking down at him. "Problems?" Odo inquired.

        A man stood on the shore of a spacious beach. The sky was slightly dark, indicating that dawn had only just recently arrived. The man looked down at his bare feet. He dug his toes into the wet sand, as wave after wave lapped up against his feet.
        He looked back up at the horizon, at the beautiful scenery.
        He uttered a single word.
        "Boom."
        Just after he spoke, the horizon brightened up bright shades of yellow and orange, as if the Sun was rising again. The light grew brighter and brighter, engulfing the man's sight. He blinked, and fixed his eyes again on the horizon.
        Almost magically, a giant white dome-shaped cloud appeared. The cloud faded, revealing a gigantic mushroom shaped cloud. Seconds later, a loud roar swept up onto the island, accompanied by strong gusts of winds.
        "Ironsides to Donahue," the heavens spoke. "Report to the security office."
        Donahue sighed. "On my way. Computer, end program."
        "Do you wish to record Bikini Atoll to your personal database?"
        "Nah, I've seen it already," Donahue replied. "Exit."

        "You what?!?" Ironsides bellowed at his men. Bogarde, Ruiz, Jacoby, MacAuley and Jannsen all looked down at the floor of the brig. "I don't believe it. Within an hour of setting foot onto the station, I find all my men in the
brig! Arrested for fighting! Who started it?"
        Bogarde stepped forward, "Well, I--"
        "Scratch that, I don't give a damn about who started it. You all should know better! I thought I trained you better than this! You're supposed to be one of the most highly disciplined military units in Starfleet!"
        Ironsides stopped pacing, and sighed. He looked over his men. He started again, "Well... I've arranged to have you release, no charges pressed. We have to keep your presence secret here." Ironsides turned, and shouted out into the hallway, "Allright! You can let them out!"
        A security guard walked into the room and deactivated the cell's force field. The soldiers walked out in a line, silent. As they left, Ironsides said,
"Don't think for one moment that just because you're not being charged means you're not being punished. I'll see you on the ship." He glared at them as they left the security office.
        Donahue walked up to Ironsides. "You wanted me, sir?"
        "Yeah," Ironsides nodded. "I'm ordering all of the squad to go back to the Sea Wolf. Shore leave's over."
        "I see. Well, I'll get going." Donahue walked out, passing by Odo.
        Odo walked in, "Hello, Major. I'm sorry to have to bring you here under these circumstances. Quark'll meet you in Sisko's office to discuss the situation."
        Ironsides smiled grimly. "Thank you for being discreet. Actually, I was planning on coming here anyway to discuss something with you. Do you mind if we can talk in private?"
        "Allright. We can go to the interrogation room." The two walked across a hall into the interrogation room. Ironsides asked, "This room is free of bugs? 'Cause this has to be totally private."
        "Yes, it is. I sweep for bugs everyday. I have to, especially because of Quark."
        Ironsides nodded, "Good." Odo offered Ironsides a seat. Ironsides shook his head, "No thank you. I prefer to stand."
        "So do I," Odo said.
        "I've got something of a delicate nature to discuss with you. As you may or may not know, I'll be leaving shortly on a covert mission. When I found out my team would be laying over at D.S. 9 I studied the dossiers of the senior officers, including you. I make it a point to know about where I'm staying. Now, I think you've accomplished a lot. I could use a man with your unique talents."
        "My unique talents? I take it you refer to my shapeshifting ability?"
        "That is correct. I wonder, can you shift into a...say... a Romulan?"
        "Well I suppose so, given time to practice..."
        "I see... how about fingerprints? Could you handle something as detailed as that?"
        "Well, I never tried, but I believe I could, given a pattern and as I said, time to practice."
        "Good.. good. I trust you can be discreet with this?" Ironsides produced a thin isolinear rod from a pocket on his vest, handing it to Odo.
        "Now, technically, I'm not asking you, nor is Starfleet. You're a Bajoran Militia officer, as well as a Changeling. However, a man in my business gets a fair amount of latitude. I'd be a fool to give up an advantage when it's dropped into my lap, namely you."
        "Uh-huh. And what's in this?" Odo said, holding up the cylinder.
        "I'm using my discretion to open a door. It remains to be seen whether you'll walk through it. That has instructions for what to do if you decide to accompany me. It contains a one-time passcode to Cargo Bay One aboard the U.S.S. Sea Wolf. There, you can hide for the duration of the trip to Earth. Also, you'll find a set of fingerprints and a hologram which belong to one of my aliases. You can practice shifting into that alias, and then you'll be able to use that to get aboard the U.S.S. Sovereign. That is, if you decide to come. It's up to you. But I have to admit that I'd be disappointed not to have you there."
        "I see. Well, thank you for the offer. I'm glad you think so highly of me. I'll consider it."
        "That's all I ask. Now, I need to go, meet with the station's first officer."
        "Yes. Have a good day." Odo watched Ironsides turn and walk out of the room. He looked down at the cylinder in his hand.

        Ironsides stepped off the turbolift, and walked across OPS into Sisko's
office. Through the door, he saw Quark pacing back and forth, gesticulating
wildly, to a seated female Bajoran. Ironsides recognized her as Major Kira Nerys, the station's first officer. She had a tired look on her face, and a
continuous nod.
        Ironsides could hear Quark now, "...and my Dabo table! It's
completely ruined! I've lost profits because of that! Oh and my delicate
imported Betazoid crystal champagne flutes, all gone! Shattered beyond
recognition! Do you have any idea how expensive they were to acquire?"
        Kira nodded yet again, "I've heard it all, and it's all written out so very eloquently in your complaint form, in triplicate." Kira raised a PADD, waving it.
        "Now, I'd love it if you'd shut up for one second. Yes, I know, this is probably the first time, wonders of wonders, that you weren't responsible for the fight. But as I've said already, it will all be taken care of." She glared at Quark.
        Ironsides stepped into the conversation. "I've gotten the damage report. Everything will be replaced at your bar, at no cost, except for the rigged Dabo table. We will only buy a normal Dabo table. You pay for it to be rigged." Ironsides looked at Quark firmly.
        "But... I never! I pride myself on honesty in gambling!" Quark protested.
        "Save it for someone who gives a crap."
        Quark stopped. Then he pointed a finger, "Everything? Even the Betazoid crystal? That cost me a small fortune."
        "I have connections. I'm a man of my word, and everything will be taken care of."
        "Well still, I want to press charges! I demand restitution! I've been emotionally scarred by the fight! Your.. your soldiers tore my bar up!"
        "What soldiers?"
        Quark stood there, staring at Ironsides incredulously. "What? What do you mean, what soldiers??? The big hu-mons who punched my customers silly!"
        "I'm sorry," Ironsides shrugged, "the report indicated that the fight was regarding a dispute between cargo ship crews and freighter pilots. No mention of any soldiers in there."
        Quark sputtered. Ironsides only stared at Quark emotionlessly.
        "Well then," Quark finally spat out, "you're lying!"
        "Am I? I have several witnesses, Starfleet officers no less, who are willing to testify that none of my men were present. They were all aboard the
Sea Wolf, in the holodeck, exercising. That's how they got some of their minor injuries. So shut up. You're going to get everything replaced. You have
nothing to complain about."
        Quark turned to Kira, bewildered. "Who.. who is this man?"
        Kira looked at the Ferengi blankly, "What man?"
        Quark gave a strangled shout of frustration, then stomped out of the office angrily.
        Once the office doors closed, Kira turned to Ironsides, looking up at him. "Thanks."
        "For what?" Ironsides asked.
        "That. So very often, it's me who's frustrated by him. Today the tables were turned," Kira said, with a slight smile. She frowned quickly. "I still don't know what you're doing here."
        "I'm sorry, Major, but I can't divulge any details."
        "I know, I know. Captain Sisko told me what he could and basically that was just to go along with whatever you said. While we're speaking of the captain, what is he doing now?"
        "Can't say."
        Kira sighed sharply. "Well, what can you tell me?"
        "Only that we'll be shipping out within the next few hours, after Admiral Jellico arrives."
        "Maybe I'll get some answers then," Kira muttered.
        "I doubt it. Jellico's an admiral. The higher up you go, the less information you get."
        "Wonderful."

        The U.S.S. Carpathia glided into position, just beneath one of the overarching docking pylons of the station. The Ambassador class vessel was accompanied by several other ships, the U.S.S. Yojimbo and the already present Sea Wolf.
        Major Kira and Commander Dax stood at the airlock, watching it wheel out of the way, as Jellico and another Starfleet officer stepped out.
        "Welcome aboard, Admiral Jellico," Kira said.
        "Thank you, Major. I'd like a senior staff meeting right away," Jellico said. "Take me to the wardroom."
        "Certainly," Kira said. "This way."

        Jellico looked around the wardroom. "Is everyone here?"
        Dax looked around the table, seeing Kira, Chief O'Brien, Odo, Ironsides, Jellico and his assistant. "Yes, sir, everyone's here, except for Captain Sisko, Commander Worf, and Doctor Bashir. When will they be returning?"
        "They'll be staying at Earth indefinitely, but I would estimate that they may return in approximately two weeks," Jellico said. "I won't say any more beyond that. So don't ask questions you know I won't answer."
        Jellico cleared his throat. "As of now, I'm assuming command of Deep Space Nine in Captain Sisko's absence. Business will continue as normal." He turned to his assistant. "This is Lieutenant Mallard, my aide. He'll be assisting me with my duties back on Earth, since I still have responsibilities as a member of Starfleet Command, in addition to this station's command. He'll be returning to Earth after this meeting, to run my San Francisco office.
        "Now, onto the matter of Sisko and the others. Obviously all of this is very sensitive and confidential, so I don't want to hear a word of this breathed outside this wardroom." He studied the faces of the people seated at the table.
        "People will be asking about their absences. Civilians, especially. What we will tell them is that Sisko was asked to stay on Earth for two weeks, to consult with Starfleet Command on the Dominion situation. Commander Worf was called to the Federation Embassy on Quo'nos on an diplomatic emergency. And Doctor Bashir has been recruited to assist in vaccine research for the Grinpa virus, and as such, has to remain in quarantine for the duration of the research. These are the cover stories set up. If anyone investigates, that's what they'll find. Maintain it. Perpetuate it. I don't need to tell you that people's lives depend on this subterfuge."
        O'Brien raised his hand. "Sir. What about the Defiant?"
        "The Defiant will be upgraded according to schedule. If all goes as it should, you'll be getting it back in approximately three weeks. In the mean time, the Carpathia has been assigned to the station in the Defiant's stead.
        "Originally, Captain Sisko was to command her, but since he's unable, he's chosen another person." Jellico looked at Jadzia Dax. "That'd be you. The Carpathia has no captain, he was killed in action recently. Some of the missing crew will be augmented by the station's personnel, and Commander Dax here will take up residence on the ship for the duration of her service here."
        "I see," Dax nodded. "When should I start?"
        "After this meeting." Jellico rubbed his hands together, looking at the others. "Bottomline here is, go about your business normally. Don't ask questions. Maintain the cover story. That's all I have to say. Meeting adjourned."

        Kira stepped into Dax's quarters, seeing her clothes spread out on the couch and recliner. "Packed yet?"
        Dax looked up from the satchel she was closing, looking at Kira first, then looking at the clothes. "Oh no, that's just laundry I have to catch up on."
        "I knew you were always a little laid back, but a slob?" Kira raised an eyebrow.
        "Well I've been busy lately, and now this reassignment just makes me even more busier."
        Kira sighed and leaned against a bulkhead. "You know, I have a funny feeling about this admiral. What do you know about him?"
        Dax shrugged and opened a metallic suitcase. "He's an arrogant ass."
        An incredulous chuckle escaped Kira's throat. "So you know him?"
        "No," Dax smiled. "But I know his type."
        "Now I feel worse. Plus you're leaving so you won't be around to help me deal with him. He's going to give me a hard time, just because I'm not Starfleet. I know it."
        "Just grin and bear it to his face, and do what you do normally behind his back," Dax said, tossing several PADDs into the case. "You should get by fine. Have you spoken to Benjamin?"
        "Not since that last comm the day before Jellico arrived. He didn't know much about what was going on, only that he and Worf and Dr. Bashir were needed for a mission. He told me to play along with what was going on. And you know what? I'm tired of playing along. I'm tired of biting my tongue, keeping myself from asking questions."
        "It's just for a couple of weeks. The admiral said nothing's going to change around here. We'll operate the way we always do. The captain and the others will be back before you know it."
        Kira sighed and walked to one of the oval windows. She turned around to look at Dax. "Another thing- that major? Do you know anything about him?"
        "I've heard a little here and there. First off, I can tell you that he's a Marine. His rank and his uniform tell us that."
        "Oh, so that's what the green colored tunic is, underneath the normal black suit?"
        "Right. You know yellow's Engineering and Security. Blue's Medicine and Science. And red's Command. Green's Ground Forces, the Marines in particular."
        "I wonder how he got that scar on his face," Kira mused.
        "I think it lends him a certain rakish charm."
        Kira smiled. "Aren't you supposed to be in love with Worf?"
        "Yes, but he's not here, is he?" Dax chuckled. "Anyway, with all this secrecy surrounding Ironsides and his men, I'd guess they do covert missions mostly. Black bag operations, as they're called in the business."
        "Business?"
        "Marine Command," Dax explained.
        "How come he and his men are the first Marines I've seen?"
        Dax lugged her case over to the door. "Odds are you've seen them, but only in civilian clothes, or in a different guise. They don't normally operate on starships and space stations. They're ground forces, and as such, spend half of their time training for combat situations and the other half in combat situations. They have their own small detachment of ships, apart from the regular Starfleet. So they usually serve on those, or on planet-based starbases."
        Dax stood up, stretching her back, after moving her luggage. "The percentage of Marines to regular Starfleet is small, although I'm sure with the increased hostilities we're having with the Dominion, along with the Klingon-Cardassian War happening out there, Starfleet Command is stepping up recruitment for the Marines."
        "I see," Kira nodded slowly. "Thanks for answering my questions. At least someone around here can do that."

LOG ENTRY THREE

USS SOVEREIGN, FEDERATION STARSHIP
EARTH ORBIT, SOL SYSTEM
0355 HOURS SST


        Sisko strolled through the corridors of the Sovereign class ship, taking in the sights and smell of the new ship. He felt a twinge of regret that the rest of his station crew weren't around to see and appreciate the power of this new ship. O'Brien, he knew, would especially be very interested in this ship.
        He shrugged and continued on his walk towards the bridge. The night crew worked busily, acknowledging the captain with polite nods. I wonder if they know what's going on? Sisko briefly thought to himself. He felt slightly annoyed that he had been told to stay on, but not why.
        He passed a set of large double doors. He recognized them as the entrance to the sickbay. He decided to step in and take a look. He hadn't been in there yet.
        He stepped in to find Bashir talking animatedly with another man. Sisko recognized him as Doctor Zimmerman, the hologram scientist, from various reports out of the Jupiter R&D department. Sisko cocked his head. No, he decided. It must be that new Emergency Medical Hologram. Why would Zimmerman be here?
        "Is everything allright?" he asked.
        Bashir paused and turned around. "Oh, hi, Captain. Everything's fine. I was just updating some of the EMH's database on Bajoran anatomy. I was looking through its database and noticed some areas that needed to be added to."
        "Ah," Sisko nodded. "Well, uh, don't let me interrupt."
        "Okay," Bashir nodded. He turned to the hologram. "Hold on, would you?"
        "Certainly," the hologram replied.
        Bashir chased after Sisko who was about to leave. "Sir? Sir?"
        "Yes?"
        "I was wondering if you had found out anything further about what's going on?"
        "No, I'm sorry. They haven't told me anything, and I haven't heard any scuttlebutt." Sisko shrugged and crossed his arms across his chest. "So I've just been doing what they told me to- familiarize myself with the ship, and cool my heels here."
        "I've been doing the same in here. They have me studying some of the new medical devices out of Starfleet Medical. The funny thing is- the devices strike me as more of field equipment, not sickbay equipment."
        "Hm. Interesting," Sisko nodded, stroking his goatee.
        "And what of Worf?" Bashir asked.
        "As far as I know, they haven't told him to do anything. But being the consummate security officer he is, he's taken an keen interest in the Sovereign's tactical operations. I think it might be because the newest Enterprise is a Sovereign class vessel."
        "Oh yes, I heard about that on Starfleet News Network," Bashir nodded. "It was launched earlier this year, wasn't it?"
        Sisko nodded. "Well, doctor, I'll let you get back to your conversation with the EMH."
        "Okay."
        "Don't stay up too late, with these kinds of situations, you never know when you might be moving out."
        "Understood, sir."
        Sisko clapped Bashir on the shoulder, smiling genially. He turned and set out of the sickbay, leaving Bashir behind.
        
        "And that's how you fire phasers?" Worf nodded gravely at the young ensign before him.
        "Yes, sir," Erenthal nodded. "Uh, that's all the basics for a Sovereign class tactical station. If you need to know more, just ask the computer. I do it myself too, you know?"
        Worf stared at the young man for several silent seconds. The ensign shifted on his feet.
        "Not that I would think you'd need much help. You're an senior officer and have loads more experience than me," Erenthal added hastily. "I was just trying to be as helpful as possible."
        "I appreciate that. You may resume your duties," Worf replied. He turned and walked away from the tactical station. He looked at the quiet bridge, thinking about the differences between this bridge and the bridge of the Defiant. On a further level, he was also thinking of the bridge of the crashed Enterprise, though he would be loathe to admit to such a sentimental train of thought.
        He sighed. "Jadzia is not good for me," he muttered silently. As he started for the turbolift, the ensign called out from behind him.
        "Sir?"
        "Yes, Ensign Erenthal?"
        "We're receiving an transmission. Since you're the most senior officer on the bridge, protocol dictates..."
        "Yes, I know what it dictates," Worf nodded, cutting off the ensign. Ensigns and androids talk too much, Worf reflected to himself. "Put it on the main screen."
        "No visual, audio only," Erenthal reported.
        "Very well then. Audio."
        An unfamiliar voice played through the comm speakers. "U.S.S. Sovereign, this is the U.S.S. Sea Wolf."
        "Sea Wolf, this is Lieutenant Commander Worf."
        "Ah, Commander Worf," the stranger said. "Good. Please have Captain Sisko meet me in his quarters."
        "And who shall I say is meeting him?" Worf asked.
        "Five minutes. Sea Wolf out."
        Erenthal looked at Worf. "The channel's been closed."
        Worf frowned and cocked his head. He shrugged and headed for the turbolift. He was starting to get used to knowing nothing about what was going on.

        Sisko interlaced his fingers, and looked at his fingernails as he sat at the desk in his temporary quarters. Worf stood across the room, watching the door.
        "Do you think it's a trap?" Sisko asked.
        "It wouldn't hurt to think that way," Worf replied. "I very often do."
        "You think of everything as a possible trap?"
        Worf nodded silently.
        Sisko grinned slightly. "Even things such as a date, or say- a marriage proposal?"
        Worf turned to look at Sisko. "In Klingon culture, marriage is the highest form of a trap."
        Sisko rubbed his chin. "Klingons and most every other races," he nodded in agreement. He looked at the closed door, wondering about mystery visitor.
        The hum of a transporter beam made Sisko and Worf turn around, looking away from the door. As the light faded, Sisko saw a tall dark haired man. The newcomer had a severe face, moreso with a ragged scar that ran from his right temple, down to his chin. The man was clad in a different type of Starfleet uniform, one that Sisko immediately identified as being the uniform of a Marine.
        The man's combadge was different as well. Instead of the standard gold bars behind a silver delta, the backer was a dark metallic grey, with a lighter grey delta. It made sense to Sisko. Less color and reflections meant this marine could sneak around better, still wearing his combadge. Finally, Sisko laid eyes on the rank pin at the man's green collar.
        "Hello, Major," Sisko said at last.
        "Captain Sisko," the newcomer said. "Commander Worf. Sorry about the short shrift earlier. I'm Major Ironsides, by the way."
        "Ironsides?" Sisko repeated. "I knew an Ironsides..."
        "In Command School, yes," the major said. "It's been quite a while, Benjamin."
        "Max? Yes it indeed has," Sisko smiled, standing up from the chair. Ironsides stepped forward to take Sisko's proffered hand to shake.
        Sisko looked at Worf. "This man is Maximillian Ironsides, aka Max. We met in some command classes at the Academy. Then he disappeared after he flunked out of Command School."
        "And yet, here he is, presumably part of Starfleet," Worf stated.
        Ironsides looked at Worf. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave. What I have to say is for the captain's ears only."
        Worf gave Ironsides one last glance, looking him up and down. He nodded. "I am used to it now." He looked at Sisko.
        "It's okay, Worf. You can go now."
        "Very well," Worf nodded. He walked towards the door, leaving the quarters.
        Ironsides turned to look at Sisko.
        "Max, so what happened? Why the--?"
        Ironsides interrupted Sisko, putting a finger to his lips, motioning for the captain to be quiet. He reached into a pocket, surprising Sisko. He wasn't used to pockets on uniforms but apparently the Marines had them.
        Ironsides pulled out a small rectangular box. He stepped up to Sisko, removing Sisko's combadge, and his own combadge. He put the combadges inside the thin box, closing the clear cover. Several lights blinked, indicating that it was now active.
        "We can talk now. I've neutralized all ship communications inside this room," Ironsides said. "No one can use the ship itself to eavesdrop on us."
        "Oh. What about bugs?"
        "Already checked before I beamed over," Ironsides shrugged. He stepped over around the desk, and activated the monitor on the desk. He pulled out a thin isolinear chip and inserted it in the I/O plug on the computer terminal. "Go on and sit back down. Have a listen."
        Sisko nodded and sat down, looking at the black screen. Ironsides looked at him. "It won't start until you type in your command authorization code. To ensure I've delivered it to the right person."
        Sisko nodded. He typed in the authorization code on the computer. The black screen dissolved into a view of Admiral Jellico's face. The admiral began speaking right away.
        "This is a Priority One Top Secret mission briefing. Nothing is to go beyond these bulkheads. Sisko, for quite a while now, Starfleet Command has known of rumors of Starfleet POWs being held in Romulan encampments. At the same time, we know of rumors of advanced weapons research and development laboratories. A short time ago, we came into contact with concrete proof of both.
        "A prisoner escaped from an Romulan installation, using a prototype shuttlecraft. He was able to make it into Federation territory and alert us about the installation and the POWs there.
        "DNA testing on the prisoner's remains indicate he was indeed the man he said to be, Lieutenant Robert Castillo, of the Enterprise C."
        Sisko's eyes narrowed in surprise. He glanced over at Ironsides. Ironsides's face remained blank, as he stared impassively at the screen. Sisko turned to look back at Jellico.
        Jellico continued on, "Castillo apparently died from malnutrition and signs indicate that he was used for forced labor. That corroborates intelligence reports of a POW camp in Romulan space, with captured Federation slaves. Beyond that, there was nothing unusual about Castillo, except that his body held abnormal amounts of tachyon radiation. It just seems to be residual radiation from an encounter with tachyon particles, approximately 30 years ago. As per regulations, Starfleet Command turned over a copy of the report to the Department of Temporal Investigations.
        "Now, the point of this briefing, and the reason for Ironsides's presence is this. We are going to mount a rescue operation, to liberate our Federation citizens from the Romulan POW camp." Jellico's eyes narrowed, and his mouth hardened. "That will be the primary mission." He took a breath, then continued with his briefing. "The secondary mission is to strike back at the research and development installation. The primary mission is more of your concern. Just get the POWs out safely and back home to Starfleet. Let Ironsides take care of the secondary mission.
        "I am transferring Major Ironsides and his men from the U.S.S. Sea Wolf, and temporarily assigning them to the U.S.S. Sovereign. Ironsides will be in charge of the mission, but we needed a good ship captain to command the Sovereign. We took advantage of your proximity to Earth. So you're in command of the Sovereign."
        A mission map replaced Jellico's face. His voice continued on speaking. "As you can see, our reports indicate the covert POW camp is on the moon orbiting the fourth planet of the Appianos system, inside Romulan space. However, we've only been able to use long-range scans, and we can't pinpoint the exact surface location on the moon. So that's why this mission will be divided in two phases. Phase One is Reconnaissance. Phase Two is Insertion. Now since this is a highly dangerous mission, there will be a 'go/no go' point in between the phases. Ironsides will have the unenviable task of deciding whether to lead his team down to the surface on what may surely be a suicide mission.
        "The missions parameters are encoded on this isolinear chip along with relevant information and maps. Study them, and study them well. You're scheduled to move out as soon as Ironsides's men are aboard the Sovereign.
        "We have several cover stories in place to explain the absence of you, Lieutenant Commander Worf, and Doctor Bashir. These are detailed in the mission files. Don't worry about Deep Space Nine. I will be assuming command of the station in your place, and the U.S.S. Carpathia will replace the Defiant as scheduled for the duration of the ship's upgrade period. Major Ironsides has been briefed on the mission and all its aspect. If you have any questions, ask him. Any decisions, defer to his judgment. That is all."
        The screen went black again.
        Sisko leaned back in his seat and looked up at Ironsides. "Well, that told me a lot about what was going on. But not all. Why are you here specifically?"
        "I'm the commander of a covert black bag ops team. We do the dirty work Starfleet needs done, and give them plausible deniability. This mission suits us perfectly."
        Sisko sat back, trying to process this new revelation. 'Black bag ops' were the most secret of missions. The men and women who became part of such a team gave up their identities and became expendable. They worked in the shadows, never to be seen, until it was too late. Officially, Starfleet has denied having such teams, but unofficially...
        "Fine. I can understand why I'm here, but why were Worf and Doctor Bashir kept here along with me? They even have cover stories."
        "We can use their expertise as well. I'll be explaining their role later on, when we have a squad briefing."
        "Okay. When will your men be aboard?"
        Ironsides shrugged. "They should be aboard right now. I'll check."
        "And when will we have the squad briefing?"
        "Soon. But first you have to take us out." Ironsides smiled.

LOG ENTRY FOUR

        A voice blurted out, "Captain on the bridge!" as Sisko stepped aboard the bridge. He smiled. This was his first visit to the bridge. He hadn't been to the bridge yet. The entire crew stood up at attention and gazed at the new captain.
        "At ease," Sisko told them. The crew went back about their business. He looked at the bridge one more time and wondered if he would ever get a ship of his own. The bridge was dim; the colors were dark maroon. The controls panels were blue, green, and yellow.
        He stared at the command chair, which was waiting for him to sit in.
He looked at it and then sat in it. Now this is a ship he thought. His new first officer, Commander Zoe Tobias, sat back down in the first officer's seat, which was to the side of the command chair.
        Zoe Tobias was a young female human, with beautifully braided red hair that was pinned up. Her green eyes flashed with determination, and her actions were those of a confident officer. Sisko knew she was destined to a brilliant captain's career.
        "Alright, people report to your stations. We're departing now," he commanded. The crew took their places, eager to start the mission. He tapped his armrest pad.
        "Bridge to engineering, we're getting underway now," he said.
        "Aye sir," a male voice said. Sisko could hear the engines starting up. Sisko tapped his combadge on his chest. "Sisko to Utopia Planitia."
        "Utopia Planitia here, go"
        "Permission to depart."
        "Permission granted and good luck, sir."
        "Very well helmsman, aft thrusters ahead and move into one quarter impulse power."
        "Aye sir," the Cetanni helmsman, Lieutenant Itanonna boKal, replied.
        The Sovereign slid gracefully out of orbit from Mars, and headed out into the stars. Within moments, it disappeared, hurtling at trillions of kilometers per seconds.

        Sisko heard a man walk onto the bridge behind him. He turned his head to see who it was. Major Ironsides walked to an auxiliary computer station on the far side of the bridge. He nodded at Sisko in greeting. Sisko returned the nod. Ironsides turned away and started speaking to the computer. Sisko sighed and turned his attention back to the viewscreen.
        After a few moments, Sisko got up to stretch his legs. He walked over to Ironsides, trying to look over the major's shoulder.
        Ironsides spun around quickly in his seat, looking sharply up at Sisko. The captain reared back in surprise. His hands went up defensively. "Whoa! At ease, Major. It's only me."
        "Sorry, sir," Ironsides said.
        "What were you doing?" the captain inquired.
        "Just checking on our cargo."
        "I see. Well, carry on, Major," said Sisko.
        Ironsides smiled, nodding. He looked at his workstation, and closed his files. The major turned and looked back up at Sisko. "Captain, would you like to have some lunch later today? In Eleven Forward?"
        "That'd be good. We could catch up," Sisko pointed out.
        "That we could. When?"
        Sisko looked around the bridge. "Let me get a final status report on the ship. I'll contact you when I'm finished."
        "Allright. See you later, Ben." Ironsides stood up and walked to the turbolift.
        Sisko watched as the major departed. He turned to look at the Naist at the tactical station. The ship's security chief was now on duty, so Sisko decided to take this opportunity to get acquainted with the Naist.
        Lieutenant Mozelle Xioar was a tall humanoid male with a bald head. Sisko wasn't sure if the Naist was naturally hairless, or if the lieutenant shaved his head, like Sisko did. The Naist was covered in ritual tattoos from head to toe, which reminded Sisko vaguely of a leopard. The Naist's face was thin and severe. He had the typical aquiline nose and sharp cheekbones of a Naist. The combination of the tattoo pattern and severe facial features gave the impression that Lt. Xioar was perpetually scowling. The tactical officer reminded Sisko of Worf when Klingon was in a foul mood.
        Sisko was pleasantly surprised when Xioar smiled broadly at the captain when he approached. "Hello, Captain Sisko. May I say that it's a pleasure to have you serving as the CO on this mission?" Xioar extended his thin, bony hand to Sisko. "I'm sorry I was unable to meet you as you came aboard, but I had just pulled three shifts in a row."
        Sisko shook it, feeling the strength of the Naist. Their tall and thin bodies hid a powerful strength and endurance, which suited the Naists to military and security work.
        "Perfectly understood, and thank you... Lieutenant K'seor?" Sisko tried to pronounce the Naist's surname correctly.
        Xioar nodded, smiling broadly. "That's perfect! Only a few people have pronounced my surname correctly on the first try! Most every one pronounces it as 'Zeeor,' but you got it right."
        "I did? Good. So, mind telling me a little bit about a Sovereign class tactical station?" Sisko looked at the tactical console at Xioar's hands.
        "Oh, it's not too different from the current standard. Being on the Defiant, you should be familiar with the quantum torpedoes, which is what separates this ship from most of the other ships in the fleet. Beyond that, it's pretty much standard. Phaser emitters are here, and here..." Xioar pointed to a tactical schematic on his console. Sisko nodded and listened to the taller man.

        Ironsides slid into the booth's seat, where Sisko was already seated. Sisko had finished talking to each and every one of the bridge crew, learning as much as he could about his new men and the Sovereign. The remnants of soup rested on Sisko's tray. Ironsides set his tray down, and started eating his lunch.
        "So, it's been a long time, Max," Sisko stated.
        Ironsides nodded. "Yeah it's been a while." He drank his glass of water.
        "All the way back to Starfleet Command school. You disappeared in, what, the third semester? Rumor was that you flunked out. Either that or you got expelled. But that doesn't seem to be the case, since you're here."
        "Well, both of these things nearly happened, hadn't it been for the intervention of Admiral Stone. He saw my record, and correctly saw that I wasn't suited for regular Starfleet." Ironsides munched on his sandwich. "He pulled strings to get me moved into the Starfleet Marine Corps. I loved it there. So that's how I ended up in the Marines."
        "That still doesn't explain why you disappeared," Sisko pointed out.
        Ironsides nodded. "Yeah. At the time, I didn't know Admiral Stone had plans for me. He arranged to have my service record classified. I didn't know I had disappeared, as you say. When I graduated Officer's Training school, Admiral Stone approached me again. He told me that he had been keeping an eye on me. That I was suited for a unique job. He asked me if I wanted a different kind of job."
        Ironsides wiped his hands on a napkin, and took a sip of water. "He went on to explain what he was talking about. My psych profile strongly points out that I'm very independent and capable of isolation for long periods of time. Perfect qualities for a covert operations man. Stone offered me a posting on Omega Squadron, a black bag ops team. Partly out of gratitude and partly out of curiosity, I accepted the posting." Ironsides shrugged nonchalantly. "So, here I am. Leader of the Pollux Squadron."
        "I see," Sisko nodded. "What happened to the Omega Squadron?"
        Ironsides's eyes went down to the table. He sighed. "They all got killed in action. Except for me. That's where I got this scar," Ironsides ran his finger down his face.
        "What happened?"
        "I don't want to talk about it," Ironsides said. He smiled slightly. "I can't talk about it anyway. Classified, you know?"
        "I understand."
        "So, what about you? What have you been up to since the old days?"
        "Not much. Remember the girl I mentioned to you? The one I couldn't stop talking about? Jennifer?"
        "Yeah," Ironsides nodded.
        "Well, dated her, married her, then lost her on my ship, the Saratoga, at Wolf 359. Went back to Earth, kicked around for a while, worked at Utopia Planitia. Got assigned to Deep Space Nine. Found the wormhole. Became the Bajoran Emissary. Found the Jem'Hadar and the Dominion. Then the fighting started, which brings us up to date now."
        Ironsides smirked. He shook his head. "Actually, I read your service record before arriving at Deep Space Nine. You just summed up what took pages and pages to outline."
        "Brevity is the...uh, something of wit. Or wisdom?"
        "I know the quote you're talking about. I can't remember it either," Ironsides laughed. Sisko chuckled. Someone walked up to them. The two men looked up, to see Dr. Bashir.
        "Hello, Captain. Major." Bashir nodded to the men. "May I sit here?"
        Sisko nodded, gesturing for the doctor to sit. Ironsides stood up and picked his tray up.
        "Actually, I've got to get going now. "I'll talk to you later, Ben." Ironsides moved so Bashir could sit at the booth. With a nod, Ironsides acknowledged Bashir, "Doctor." The major returned the tray to the bar, and left.
        Bashir looked at Sisko. "Does he have something against me?"
        Sisko smiled gently at the other man. "No. He's just a busy man. He's about to embark on a difficult mission."
        "Oh. Ok," Bashir shrugged. He broke into a wide grin. "Sickbay is incredible. I mean, I've read about the new equipment in Starfleet Medical Journals, but to see them in person, it's...incredible. I'm like a kid in a candy store."
        Sisko smiled, drinking out of his metallic mug.
        "You can be sure I'll be putting in some new requisition forms when we get back to the station. The Infirmary seems so behind the times now."
        "Well, I'll look forward to reviewing those requests. I can't guarantee we'll be able to fulfill them. This fighting with the Dominion may just turn into full scale war."
        Dr. Bashir nodded. "I understand. I'm just excited about being off the station for a while."
        Worf walked into the lounge. He saw Sisko and Bashir and walked towards them. His arm was encased in a sling. Sisko eyed the arm, and looked at Worf. "Well?" Sisko asked.
        "I dislocated my arm on the holodeck with the Marines," the Klingon commented.
        "How?" Sisko continued.
        "I overheard Sergeant Bogarde discussing his exercise program. I told him about my exercise program."
        "And of course, you felt your program was superior," Bashir said.
        "Of course. Bogarde took exception, and he strongly suggested I try his program. I said it was only fair that he try mine as well."
        Sisko nodded. "I see. In other words, a bet."
        "You might say that," Worf nodded.
        "And since your arm is injured, I take it Bogarde won the bet?"
        "I shall have to ask the sergeant that when he recovers from his concussion in sickbay," Worf gave Sisko a feral grin.
        Sisko sighed. "Worf...these men are about to go into highly dangerous enemy territory. They need to be in peak condition. What did the doctor say?"
        "Dr. Kobat said that Bogarde should be recovering soon," Worf answered.
        Sisko looked over at Bashir. The doctor nodded. "I know Dr. Kobat. He's a good CMO. If Sergeant Bogarde's only injury is a concussion, Dr. Kobat should accelerate the healing process quickly enough for Bogarde to be back on his feet by tomorrow."
        "Allright, thank you for your opinion, Bashir." Sisko looked over at Worf. "Next time, play nice."
        "It was a matter of honor," Worf stated.
        "I'm sure it was," Sisko nodded, "and I am sure Bogarde would now agree that your program is very excellent.'" The captain gathered his plates and set them on his tray. He stood up, picking up the tray.
        "Doctor. Commander. I'm due to the bridge. I'll see you gentlemen later."
        "See you, Captain," Bashir said. Worf nodded and went to the bar to get himself a drink. Sisko walked out of the lounge, and entered the nearest turbolift.
        
        Ruiz patted Bogarde's hand. "Leo? How're you feeling?"
        Bogarde groaned, and tried to sit up on the biobed. "Ohhh God. I feel so embarrassed. But how the hell was I to know that five Nausicaans were waiting in ambush? How am I supposed to fight five Nausicaans armed with only a knife?"
        Ruiz rolled her eyes at Bogarde. "No, I meant how are you feeling physically?"
        "Ehh, it's only a mild concussion. I've had plenty of those. I'll be fine in a couple of hours, right Doc?"
        The blue skinned Andorian CMO nodded, his antennae wagging slightly. "The sergeant is correct. He shall be fine soon."
        "Thanks, Dr. Kobat. I appreciate it," Ruiz smiled. The doors to the sickbay opened, and in walked Dr. Bashir. He smiled at Ruiz and Bogarde, and walked to the laboratory.
        A moment later, Bashir stepped out. "Doctor Kobat? I have a question..."
        Kobat looked at the two marines. "Please excuse me."
        "Sure," Bogarde nodded, leaning back onto the bed.

        Bashir stepped back into the laboratory, as Kobat joined him. "Thanks doctor. I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"
        "No, I was done," Kobat replied. "What is it?"
        "I was wondering, was that woman Private Amanda Ruiz?"
        "Is that what you called me over to ask?"
        "Actually no, I had a question regarding the bio-neural gelpacks... but the other question just popped into my mind."
        "Well, yes, that's Private Ruiz."
        "Oh. She looks even prettier in person than in her holo." Kobat smirked. "Oh, I mean, she looks better in person," Bashir stammered. "You know, some people look different in person."
        "I know what you mean. I happen to be slightly telepathic, if you recall your species anatomy." The doctor smiled warmly. Bashir's face flushed red with embarrassment.
        Kobat tilted his head. "Would you like me to introduce you two?"
        "Uh, um...well, that would be wise since we're going to be working together on this mission. It would be very advisable for us to get to know each other very well."
        "A very good rationalization, if I may say so," Dr. Kobat said. "Come." He walked out of the laboratory, across the sickbay. Bashir started following the doctor.
        He saw that Ruiz was about to leave Bogarde.
        Ruiz was telling Bogarde, "Oh, you'll be fine. You said so yourself. Besides Mac will be checking in on you. You can complain all you want to him."
        "But I wasn't complaining! I was merely wondering what kind of sadistic bastard would put five Nausicaans in a..."
        Ruiz sighed, and smiled as she rolled her eyes.
        Kobat stepped up to her, and Bashir stood next to the taller doctor.
        Kobat gestured to her. "Doctor Bashir, this is Private Amanda Ruiz." Bashir held out his hand. Ruiz took it as Kobat continued the introduction.
        "Private Ruiz, this is Doctor Julian Bashir, the Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine."
        "Pleased to meet you, Private," Bashir said
        "Likewise," Ruiz replied. Dr. Kobat left the two of them alone, heading to his office.
        Bashir regarded the woman for a moment. "So, you're a member of Ironsides's covert operations team?"
        "Yes, that's correct."
        "In what capacity?" Bashir inquired.
        "I'm the team pilot. I fly the runabouts, shuttles, and anything else I have to fly."
        Bashir leaned back against a countertop, listening to Ruiz, nodding. "That sounds like a lot of fun. What've been some of your favorite places to fly in?"
        "Well, most of the places I've been to, I can't say anything about it. It's the nature of the job, you know." Ruiz shrugged. Bashir nodded, understanding her point.
        "But I can tell you about this, I've always liked my first training ground, the rings around Saturn. It's very beautiful out there, watching the sunlight reflect off the ice particles in the rings," Ruiz smiled, remembering.
        "That sounds very beautiful," Bashir remarked. "The way you describe it- I wish I'd have been there."
        "Well, there are some holoprograms of that, if you're interested in seeing it," Ruiz shrugged.
        "Sounds great to me. I've done a little flying too, myself," Bashir added.
        "Oh?" Ruiz crossed her arms across her chest, standing near Bashir.
        "Actually, mostly just in holoprograms. My favorite is the Battle of Britain. Do you know that program?"
        "Know it? It's my favorite too!" Ruiz smiled brightly.
        "Really? You know, I always get shot down as soon as I fly over the cliffs of Dover..."

SECTION ONE | SECTION TWO | SECTION THREE | SECTION FOUR


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