NationStates Jolt Archive

"Fish juice, hot."

A swirl of orange light illuminated a small alcove on the wall as a large glass full of brown liquid rapidly materialised. The light died down and vanished once the glass was fully-formed, and a large grey hand reached in to grab it firmly. It was lifted up in the air, past the glossy, hard, scratched black uniform armour and to the thin grey lips of Gul Mekar, who gulped down its contents quickly before placing the empty glass back into the replicator alcove.

Mekar couldn't start a morning shift without a glass of hot fish juice and today promised to be a big day. As the replicator disassembled the empty glass he walked across the bridge and sat down in his raised command chair, tapping on some of the buttons on his control panel. The Vapesh, a Galor-class Warship, had been assigned to scouting duties as a vanguard for a much larger fleet, and today they may well have found a viable target. Crew members were edgy and anxious, as they had been cooped up aboard the ship for six months whilst they pursued a dangerous and vain mission. Simply the hope of concluding that mission was enough to lift their spirits, but also enough to have them remain cautiously pessimistic.

"Standard orbit achieved, sir," called the navigator from just ahead of him.

"Good," Mekar nodded. "Glinn Jhan, conduct a full analysis on that planet - I would like to know if our long-range scans were accurate."

"Yes Gul," Jhan nodded, and began to work on his panels, bringing up sensor analyses and logs.

"I for one cannot wait to be off this ship," the navigator, Gil Kanod grumbled quietly. "One can only breathe the same recycled air so many times before it grows... stale..."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Mekar said with a knowing smile. "It could be a hostile world covered in lava..."

"If it is so, it does not look it..." Kanod said, looking up at the oval viewscreen, which was highlighted in a violet light and dominated the front wall of the bridge.

Certainly the world they were presented with appeared to be anything but a hostile place; one large continent - that was visible, at least - was covered in vibrant greens and earthy browns, set amid the centre of a deep blue ocean. The atmosphere around the edges appeared to glow as the sun rose above the horizon, giving it an almost divine quality. Of course, even a world covered with lava would become appealing after six months trapped aboard a bleak Cardassian warship, but this place was something else entirely. Even the yellow-brown hull of the tattered Galor-class Vapesh began to look attractive as the sun shone against it. Hopefully its resources, and that of the lone moon that orbited it, were in as great supply as its beauty.

"Gul, I have concluded my scan," Jhan announced. His gruff voice shook everybody from their memorised gazes at the viewscreen, and Mekar jumped to his feet in an attempt to look 'on the ball'.

"What do you have Glinn?"

"It is as our long-range scans predicted, sir," Jhan said. "A terrestrial planet comprised primarily of iron, oxygen, silicon, magnesium and other common elements. Oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, 109.5 kilopascal pressure, no traces of any pollution or other dangerous gasses. 81% of the surface is water, with one super-continent biased towards the northern hemisphere. Average temperature 35.4 degrees celcius. Massive lifesign readings, but it is entirely flora and fauna - no traces of intelligent life. This is what we were looking for, Mekar."

Mekar looked at him thoughtfully and then spent several minutes reading the various readouts on his console, before allowing the smile he had been containing to finally come to fruition.

"Tactical analysis, Glinn Korval, please," Mekar called across the bridge.

"I have been making detailed logs of our entire exploration of this region of space, sir. We have found no traces of civilisation within an almost one thousand lightyear radius of this system," Korval said. "We are in the back end of nowhere sir; no-one lays claim to this world."

"Can I suggest we call it 'New Hebitia' sir?" Kanod proposed with a smile.

"I prefer 'New Cardassia'," Jhan said.

"Gentlemen, please," Mekar said with a smile, clasping his hands together. "It shall be the job of our people to give this world a name. But... I will put in a suggestion for New Hebitia." He nodded jovially at Kanod who grinned, turning back to his station. "Glinn Korval, send a message to the fleet - the coast is clear, mission accomplished."

"Yes Gul," Korval said, perhaps the only person on the bridge to show no outward signs of emotion.

"Oh, and put out a ship-wide notice to the same effect," Mekar added. "We've come home."

************

"Prepare for a lateral run - target their dorsal shields!" Revec shouted to her tactical officer as the lighting dimmed. The ship shook violently and sparks erupted from a console that exploded suddenly. Whoever these people were, their weapons were powerful - worse still, they had generated a subspace field that was interrupting with their warp drives, preventing their escape.

"Gul, we have lost ventral shielding in section twelve," the tactical officer said. A crewman nearby worked to seal off a gas leak that was making it difficult for him to work properly.

"Order the Japak to..."

"Gul the Japak has taken heavy damage to their aft quarter and is falling back!" her tactical officer interrupted. "What the... the alien vessel is destroying the colony ships! One at a time!"

The viewscreen switched to show the unusually shaped alien vessel, which was only about half the size of one of their Galors, firing their exotic beam weapons at the unshielded colony ships one at a time. The defenceless colony ships, which were scattering and desperately trying to move away at full impulse, cracked open like eggs beneath its assault, spilling their passengers into fiery deaths each time.

"Full photon torpedo spread!" Revec bellowed. "Target their bridge. We have to stop them! Instruct the Nektal to commence a full assault on their aft section as a distraction!"

As one Galor slowly moved away from the battle leaving a trail of plasma in its wake, firing its last functioning phaser occasionally, a Keldon-class warship swooped around the port side of the manoeuvrable alien craft and began firing its phasers against its weakening aft shields. Perturbed by having its vulnerable section assaulted, the alien ship sharply turned away from its direct course towards the colony ships and returned fire, its blue energy beams splashing against the Nektal's shields - hard.

As the Nektal was forced into a retreat with the alien craft now pursuing, Revec's Galor was able to move without harassment to a position directly above the alien craft, and immediately plunged down towards it bow-first in what looked like a kamikaze run. A volley of glowing orange torpedoes burst out from her launchers and crashed down against the unsuspecting alien craft's upper shields, penetrating them with the last hit and allowing the Galor to dig in with her phasers. The yellow beams of light repeatedly hit against the dorsal hull of the craft, targeting one area in particular until an explosion erupted from within.

While the alien crew realised that the bridge of their craft had been destroyed and worked to regain control, the Nektal recovered her position and spat some torpedoes of her own at the craft, aiming for the exposed dorsal section. Explosions tore chunks out of the surprisingly heavily armoured craft and still it kept moving. The Galor rotated to face the alien with her port side and fired fresh banks of phasers into her enemy. The Nektal copied her. With multiple phaser impacts against her unshielded hull, the alien craft finally succumbed. It split in half as an internal explosion cracked open her hull. One last torpedo into her gut did the job - the craft exploded in a ball of green fire, which rapidly disappeared.

"Hostile has been neutralised, Gul Revec," the tactical officer said with triumph. After the bluster of battle, the bridge almost seemed quiet, despite the continuing alarm klaxons and the various alert signals on consoles all over.

"Quickly - have the fleet regroup back into formation and prepare for warp!" Revec shouted. "We have to find out how many we lost..."

************

Sleepless nights. Even in this age of technological wonder, they could not be combated. Perhaps it didn't help that it was a little too early. Through a combination of away missions and detailed sensor sweeps the Vapesh had located a suitable locale on the planet's surface to begin, and they had taken the decision - and passed along the recommendation to the incoming fleet - that it would be wise to get used to the local time, and so ship chronometers had been adjusted accordingly. Unfortunately for Mekar that meant getting into his bunk three hours early, which on this day of all days was not ideal.

He lay on the hard mattress, still in his black Cardassian Guard uniform, thinking about the past, and the future. What they had left behind was a smoking graveyard, beneath which lay centuries of evil. But they had also left behind friends, family, their entire culture and history. What lay ahead was a long, hard process that would take many years to even see success, and the chance for failure was high. Mekar couldn't help but wonder if they had the strength to see it through without losing too many. And even if they did - how could they know that their goals would succeed? That they wouldn't just return to the decadent old ways?

Faith was all he had. But he was a rational man, who preferred cold logic and solid facts to whimsical and unfounded beliefs. Thus anxiety kicked in, and kept him awake.

The chime from his intercom stirred him even more, to the point where he decided that he just wasn't going to get to sleep. So, he swung his legs sideways and planted them firmly on the metal floor with his boots, and pushed the 'accept' button on the intercom panel.

"Bridge to Gul Mekar," a distorted voice said.

"This is Mekar, go ahead bridge," he said in his gruff voice. A note of frustration was quite evident, but it had more to do with himself than the person on the other end.

"Sir, the fleet is arriving now," the voice told him "Gul Revec is hailing us."

"I'm on my way, Glinn," he said with a sigh, and clicked the intercom off.

************

Galor-class vessels weren't the smallest ships in the galaxy, but they weren't exactly the largest either, and it took only a few minutes for Gul Mekar to step off the turbolift and onto the drab bridge. He rounded the centre platform and sat himself in his command chair, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. On the viewscreen he saw ship after ship streaking to a halt ahead of them in the starry void as dozens of vessels dropped out of warp.

One hundred and fifty colony ships were expected, along with one Keldon-class and two Galor-class warships as escort - the only ships they could lay their hands on before departing the ravaged Cardassian Union. Each colony ship carried three thousand people, as well as enough supplies to support them for several more months, and each was capable of landing on a planet to be turned into makeshift structures and the makings of a settlement. This was to be a major undertaking with a lot of resources dedicated to it, and not one they had taken lightly. But if they were to establish a new society, one following the tenets of the ancient First Hebitian Civilisation and not the oppressive military regime that had seen Cardassia plunged into the abyss, then they needed to give it everything they could.

"Gul Revec is hailing again sir," Korval announced, with a concerned expression on his ridged grey face.

"What is the matter Glinn?" Mekar asked him.

"I am only reading one hundred and twenty three colony ships sir, and I cannot see any further ships on long range sensors," Korval said. "And one of the warships is not operating under its own power..."

"Put Revec on-screen, perhaps she has an explanation for this," Mekar told him.

With a chime, the oval screen changed from a scene of dozens of ships to that of an elderly Cardassian female, also in a military uniform, leaning forwards in her chair as though she had difficulty staying upright. She seemed flustered, and her greying hair was ruffled.

"Gul Revec," Mekar smiled. "It is good to see you aga..."

"We have lost twenty seven of the colony ships!" she blurted with passionate dismay.

"'Lost' them, Gul?"

"We were ambushed by a warship of unknown configuration," Revec told him, shaking her head slowly. "We assume it was a lone pirate vessel; it had no identifying marks or transponders of any kind, and appeared to be an amalgamation of various technologies. It decloaked without warning and outclassed our ships in power, but their tactics were sloppy and with concentrated fire we managed to destroy it. But not before it annihilated twenty seven colony ships!"

"Sir, there would have been over 80,000 colonists aboard those ships," Korval said quietly, as though Mekar needed to be reminded.

"Were there no survivors at all, Gul?" Mekar asked her.

"There was no time for any kind of evacuation," Revec said. "The colony ships have no kind of defensive systems... they were destroyed quickly. Without mercy, warning or provocation... We reacted as quickly as we could, but it was not soon enough."

Silence was the prevalent sound for the next few moments as both Guls, and their bridge crews, contemplated the senseless loss of so many lives. It was not long before another problem dawned on them, which could have similarly great implications for their long-term survival.

"Can we continue with our mission with so many lost? With so many resources gone? Can we survive?" Revec asked at last. To that, there was no certain answer.

"I don't know, Gul," Mekar shook his head. "But we have to try. We lack the fuel or provisions to make the return trip - the nearest friendly facility capable of resupplying us is over a thousand lightyears away. There is no option - we must continue. Perhaps we will find the resources we need easily on the planet. Have any of the escorts suffered damage?"

"Yes," Revec nodded. "My ship has temporarily lost shields, and we have a minor hull breach on our ventral side. The Japak needed to be towed here as her warp nacelle took a direct hit, and she has no weapons or shields to speak of. The Nektal has only suffered moderate shield damage however, she will be fully combat ready in a little over two hours."

"That is something at least," Mekar said. "We must decide how we are to continue after this... tragedy..."

"Your move, Mekar," Jhan said with a lacklustre smile as he sat back in his chair, taking a sip of syrupy kanar from a tall glass. The two sat in Mekar's office, adjacent to the bridge, on opposite sides of a rounded table upon which lay an oddly designed, hourglass-shaped board covered in golden pieces.

Mekar did not seem to be paying attention, however, and he stirred from his thoughts as though being shaken awake. He reached across and moved some of his pieces, pulling them back towards his side without thinking.

"A defensive move?" Jhan exclaimed. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the move. "A retreat?"

Mekar looked down and almost appeared to be surprised himself, as though he had just been sleepwalking and had no idea of what he was doing. Sure enough he had made a defensive move, one which would see him defeated in less than two moves. Growling he swept his arm across the board and pushed the pieces off it, fortunately into the clutches of a container on the side.

"My mind is on other things," he said.

"The colonists?"

"Yes, the colonists," Mekar snapped. "Eighty thousand innocent Cardassians, killed for no reason. Most of them farmers, scientists... women and children. Entire families! I have been reading the casualty list, though I have only scraped the top few hundred entries, and I recognise many of the names. It was I who recruited many of them to our cause - I was even friends of some of them!"

"And now they are dead," Jhan said, almost casually. "There is nothing that could have been done for them. Gul Revec and those under her command acted as swiftly as they could have done during the circumstances. Rather than assigning blame we should mourn their loss and then complete our mission in their honour."

"You make sense my friend, as always," Mekar smiled. "But I cannot wipe them from my mind as easy as you. I am not blaming anybody, least of all Revec, but... this was my dream. My mission! As the commander of this fleet and the architect of this endeavour I am responsible for every soul under my command, and eighty thousand of those souls perished due to my lack of foresight."

"Perhaps this is Oralius' way of testing our resolve," Jhan suggested after a long pause. "Under Her care their souls shall be rewarded for sure, and now we shall endure even greater hardship in Her name. Our success will be even greater as a result."

Mekar nodded thoughtfully at the prospect. Perhaps their deity and saviour was guiding their quest, giving it greater meaning. But then whilst Jhan's suggestion was possible, it was also possible that this was a sign that Oralius wanted them to fail, that she did not approve. "Perhaps instead She actually wants us to fail - this could be an omen that She does not approve of what we are doing. Or perhaps She is trying to prevent us from making a terrible mistake..."

"There are many different ways of interpreting what happened," Jhan sighed, leaning against the table. "But the point of the matter is - it was completely beyond our control. As I said before, all we can do is accept that it happened, and mourn the dead. Now, rather than allow them to have died for nothing, it is imperative that we complete our task here - in their honour."

With nothing more to say, Mekar slumped back in his chair tugged at his inflexible uniform.

"However you come to terms with this tragedy, I hope you do it soon - our kotra games are not going to be much fun if you don't improve your game soon," Jhan said with a mocking sneer. "As it stands a Ferengi could beat you at this..."

"Don't worry my friend, as soon as my mind is clear I'll get back to beating you like a vole," Mekar said, managing a forced grin. "In the meantime..."

At that point the intercom chirped, and a voice said, "Bridge to Gul Mekar."

"This is Mekar, go ahead Glinn," Mekar spoke up.

"Sir, the New Detapa Council is hailing us urgently," Glinn Korval said, his disembodied voice distorted by the invisible speakers.

"Thank you Glinn, we'll be right there," Mekar said, glancing back at Jhan who simply shrugged. "Duty calls, old friend."

Mekar rose to his feet, scraping the rubberised legs of this chair against the metal decking, and pushed the door release button. It whirred open sideways and he stepped through onto the bridge and a hive of activity. Seemingly the rest of the crew were taking it in turns to come up to the bridge and take a look at what could be their new home - should the Detapa Council decide to continue. Although the architect of this bold new life, Mekar was only in charge so far as military resources went - it was his firm belief that the military should have no control over the people they protected, unlike the Cardassian Union they had left behind, and so the New Detapa Council had been formed and voted into power on-route.

"On screen, Glinn," Mekar said, sitting down in his chair and straightening his uniform. A bleep heralded a change of view, as the screen switched to an image of a dozen elderly Cardassians of both genders sitting around an oval table, all looking up at the screen. One of the figures, sat in the middle of the others, wore an especially elaborate robe with golden highlights. Chancellor Lakesh, the elected leader of their new society - at least for the time being. Mekar had spoken to him several times during their trip, and thought him to be a trustworthy man who shared the ideals of their new world.

"Gul Mekar, it is an honour to speak with you again," Lakesh said, bowing his head respectfully.

"The honour is mine, Chancellor," Mekar said. "I only wish it was not with such a dark cloud looming over us."

"It is of this cloud that I speak to you now," Lakesh said ominously. "Following extensive deliberations and consultations with our experts, we have decided that our task must continue unhindered. This act of brutality and senseless murder shall not stand in the way of our enlightened mission. We shall begin as soon as possible, and we shall succeed in the names of all those who were lost - in fact, I would like you to make a note of the exact location of the first ship landing, as we intend to mark it in the future with a monument."

"I'm pleased to hear it Chancellor," Mekar said after a considerate pause. He somewhat expected this, and somewhat welcomed it, but there was still doubts regarding their ability to succeed with so many lost. "The experts with which you consulted... they are confident that we can still succeed?"

"They are," Lakesh said. "Our chances are lower, but with the guidance of Oralius, and with more determination than ever before, we are more than ready to face the challenges that await us. Plus... our chances of making the journey home alive are somewhat lower. We passed the point of no return many lightyears ago."

"Indeed," Mekar said solemnly. "The fleet, such as it is, stands ready to begin."

"I am pleased to hear it," Lakesh said. "You are to beam down preliminary parties to establish a beachhead and guide our colony ships down. This will be a long and arduous operation, and we have not even reached the hard part yet. But it is time to begin."

"Understood, Chancellor," Mekar said, and bowed his head slowly.

"Good luck, Gul," Lakesh said. The channel was cut soon afterwards, returning to the image of space. Mekar slumped in his chair for a few moments as he considered how to proceed. Their task now was to guide one hundred and twenty three enormous colony ships down to the surface, and coordinate their conversion into a settlement. Landing just one ship of that size was a task in itself, to say nothing of more than a hundred of them.

"Glinn Korval," he said at last. "Prepare the first stage landing party for transport and get them down there as soon as possible. It is time to begin."

************

Soon enough, the first ship of the large fleet pushed forwards slowly, glowing as it entered the atmosphere and headed down towards the surface. This was a process that would take several days, if not weeks, and once it began it would be too late to stop. Over three hundred and fifty thousand people now waited impatiently to begin their new and difficult lives on the ground, and it would be impossible to move them elsewhere.

The only two fully-operational warships, the Vapesh and the Nektal, took up a geosynchronous orbit facing towards the fleet of colony ships, keeping exactly one hundred kilometres apart at all times and acting almost like a gateway to guide the colony ships in the proper vector.

five blood angels strike cruisers exit the warp xenos detected
the space marine at the com sad arm all weapons raise void shields begin preparations for attack pattern emperor 3

[*sigh* No offence intended Seph, but I'd rather not deal with you in my threads. Thanks.]

"Arrrr! Shiver me timbers if ye ain't the worse crew I've ever laid me sorry eyes on, laddies. Get some back into them oars! Row, row, row, me hearties!" Cap'n Jelan Gesh roared at his reflection. He paused and stared at himself; he resembled some kind of songbird evaluating its prey, and it wasn't only because he had feathers. Jelan smiled.

"Well, that wasn't bad at all! We'll be well prepared for Talk Like A Pirate Day tomorrow," he murmured to himself, as an electronic voice said something akin to "Ensign Hic Futnahn is currently requesting entrance to your cabin."

"Enter!" Jelan said, spinning on his dorsal leg to face the entrance. Ensign Hic snaked his head in and blinked all five of his eyes in respect.

"Cap'n, I wish to report that long-range sensors are picking up ... what appear to be ships?"

It was definitely a question. Jelan sighed, resting his head against an arm. "Ensign, what have I told you about the sensors? You have to learn how to read them. I won't be around to help you out forever, and someday you may need to go and pilot a ship on your own."

A shamefaced Hic murmured, "Yes, sir."

"Now, about these ships...."

Hic explained to the captain as they flew into the agora up towards the bridge. The bridge was located near the highest point of the unusually shaped spacecraft; that way, enemy forces assaulting the spacecraft could not reach it. It had saved Jelan's own ship from enemies as formidable as the Borg (although they were kind of tough to clean up afterwards, kept adapting to withstand just about every kind of napalm for starters). Upon reaching the bridge, the two officers reposed in the most comfortable means for Caelipiscians, that being with all three legs upon the ground. The bridge had no chairs.

"They appear to be about five hundred light years off, and there are over a hundred of them," a more competent, if less dutiful, Leftenant picked up. "D'you think they're harmful?" She raised all of her large brown eyes to the Cap'n's, and he attempted to ignore her.

"It could be an invasion fleet," Jelan murmured, "but if so, what's it invading? We're a week or two's journey from any major spacefaring civilisation.... last resupplied at that Federation tourist attraction, as I recall."

"Dee-es-nine," Ensign Hic said.

"Thanks. Anyway, going out from there we hit some random independent planets, some Klingon worlds—their border security is pretty darn tough, so we didn't stop—and then it's lots of uninhabited planets and periphery, the remote backwaters of the Galaxy, so to speak. There are no spacefaring civilisations within a thousand light-years. No, Leftenant, this smells of colonists," Jelan said.

"Cap'n!" another officer yelled from across the bridge.

Jelan turned his head irritably. "I'm right here, Ensign."

The excitable Ensign Glim Ghurran didn't bother to lower his voice. "We're picking up something a lot closer to us. Wreckage, and it looks like wreckage of ships!"

Jelan sighed. Glim had an extensive imagination. "Onscreen."

The screen showed the blackness of space, with a few white pinpricks in the distance: stars.

"Magnify."

The image zoomed in on something in the center of the screen, and it grew rapidly. Jelan held up a hand and the magnification stopped; he stared at the debris. Metallic dust, a few chunks of what certainly didn't look like rocks. Definitely highly suggestive. "Ensign Glim. What is the composition of the wreckage?"

Glim hit a few buttons and produced an answer. "Largely iron, magnesium, titanium, tungsten, silicon, carbon; traces also detected of oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, dilithium...." Jelan made a 'get on with it' gesture. "Overall consistent with the explosion of an occupied starship."

"And it doesn't look like it exploded of its own accord, either!" Jelan said, staring at the wide field of debris. "How long ago would you say this happened?"

"From the spread of debris, it could be days or weeks, if it came from a single target.... but if there were multiple targets, perhaps hours."

Jelan nodded slowly. "Traveling at maximum warp, it would have taken that fleet a few hours to reach its current location.... Leftenant. You may get your invasion fleet after all."

"Permission to speak freely, Cap'n?" The Leftenant, Crain Vaal, didn't wait for permission. "Let's stay the hell away. We're a civilian vessel... ok, we have weapons and shields attached, but they're against regulations and if that warfleet doesn't kill us the Federation will. 'Yes Admiral, we survived an attack by hundreds of ships through sheer piloting skill?' Let's get out before they notice us!"

"Leftenant, I'm surprised at you!" Jelan said. "Is that the way of the Tenacity? We're going to investigate, and find out if that was really an invasion fleet or just a colony fleet that happened to get in the way of some bandits. Or whether the incident is totally unrelated. Frankly, I'm rather curious."

Ensign Hic threw in a word as well. "Indeed, Cap'n, I want to know what's going on, too. If they're dangerous, we just warp the hell out of there."

"That's the spirit," Jelan cried. "Well, all right, anyone against it? No? All right, Helmsman, take us towards the horizon, into the sunset, over the hills and far away! Warp six, please."

There was a flash, then the ship raced away, leaving starlines in its wake. You know what I mean: you've all seen Star Trek....

Glorified tag. I'll probably be back Friday.

Down on the surface, things were much different than the sensor sweeps had detected. They wouldn't have been pirates had they not been resourceful, cunning bastards in the first place. The small outpost had been outfitted with a sophisticated jamming system capable of masking the inhabitants from orbital scans, which weren't that precise in the first place. They didn't, however conceal the pirates from anything much more focused than that, since they didn't expect anyone to find them way the Hell out here.

On the far side of the planet, concealed in the dense jungle around the equator, lurked a decently-sized pirate base capable of supporting a small fleet. Well, it would have been a small fleet if they were capable of crewing one. For now it was simply a waystation supporting smaller pirate raiding crews on their ways to larger bases. It was also a popular refueling point for smugglers and other sorts of space-borne ilk.

CT Turner really didn't consider himself 'ilk', but he wasn't exactly a choir boy either. The Combine-born human was one of the fastest guns in this corner of the universe, but that wasn't saying much, since there wheren't exactly that many fast guns out here. His current employer, a pirate boss named Riikan Tansho, needed such fast guns, and CT needed the funding such an employer could provide. He'd served in the Combine military for a while, before volunteering for an new program testing nano-scale laser emitters and detection equipment. While it sounded mundane, the pay was good, and the applications soon surprised him.

The military had designed a series of prototype pistols based off of the Combine Civil Watch standard issue, a 9mm semi-automatic with a polymer frame and twenty-round capacity, further fitted with match-grade barrels and compensators for maximum accuracy. The triggers were set to be extremely light, only about three pounds each. Externally they looked to be normal weapons, except for the fact that they had no sights.

Application one of the nano-scale emitters was that they were placed within the handguns, as a part of the chamber so that sighting would be video-game easy, providing the shooter with a real-time crosshair in the infared spectrum. The only issue, however, was how to allow the shooter to see such a crosshair, as well as keep himself appraised of changing combat situations. Application two of the program was to replace the iris of each eye with nano-scale infared detectors to allow the shooter to see each crosshair, as well as see a real-time count of rounds remaining per weapon.

CT had undergone the surgery and the training, becoming a skilled marksman with the pistols designed for the program. The entire testing was dubbed a massive success, but before any further testing could be done, CT Turner disappeared, taking all the notes, prototype pistols, and emitter technology with him to parts unknown. Since that time he had had the pistols genetically locked to everyone but himself. He also had a set of fingerless tactical gloves made to conform to the pistol grips to further assist him in control of the already-tame handguns.

Now he was out in the middle of this humid-ass jungle on some backwater planet without a name, wandering towards the landing site that had suddenly popped up on the base sensor array. CT was by himself, which was either a testament to Riikan's faith in his abilities, or a suicide mission designed to get him out of the way with minimal fuss. CT liked to think that it was the first one, and if it was the second he'd make it a point to wipe out the entire base before he lifted off again. Those eye implants combined with these ultra-accurate handguns made wasting a lot of guys in a hurry real easy.

As he crested the hill, he dropped to a low crouch as he continued to move forward. Here he would sit, and observe, reporting his findings back to base via some cheap-ass communication system Riikan had purchased off of some smuggler for a couple of hours with one of his personal slaves...

The ground rumbled and grass rippled as the fifth of the colony ships touched down on the soft ground with an almighty 'thud', deafening wildlife for miles around. Already the first few ships to have landed were being taken apart and rebuilt into housing and storage buildings, and the work was not yet complete. Several hundred Cardassians had already donned their military uniforms after landing, grasped their phaser rifles and were standing guard, in case any of the local fauna decided to become hostile to the thousands of unarmed civilians who now flooded the plains.

Glinn Bakesh was in command of this, the first landing zone, which was something of an honour - although, not much. His task was crucially important but at the same time critically boring, and he treated it as such. They were setting up landing beacons in each new place, so that the colony ships that descended into the atmosphere one after another would land in an appropriate place, instead of simply landing on one of the other ships, or crushing a few hundred colonists. Having directed his subordinates to do his job for him, he now helped some of the colonists with setting up some of the large industrial replicators and their respective power supplies, primarily so that he could get a glass of kanar.

Meanwhile, scientists and their escorts began scouting the surrounding lands, searching for appropriate locales to establish farming communities. There was so much fertile land on this overgrown planet that it was not even a task so much as a formality, one which they enjoyed nevetheless.

It would be days before even half of the massive craft had made touchdown, and already phaser cannon crews were making an effort to cut down the surrounding foliage to clear sufficient space for them. Pretty soon, a veritable city would be established here, and it would need lots of room...

CT took note of the swarm of activity he was observing through his macrobinoculars, which were of much better quality than his communication system. He usually worked alone, which meant he didn't want to waste money on something he'd never use, like a comm system. He was saving up for more implants anyway.

The gunman clicked the magnify button a few times, bringing a smaller portion of the scene into sharper focus...

'Can't be an invasion force, too few guns for too many bodies. The way they're torching holes in the forest looks like they're making landing zones the same way we used to back on Combine before an invasion, but there's nothing to invade. There's no way they know we're here, if they did they'd already be burning us out of our holes from orbit...'

CT keyed up his comm device, after finally figuring out how to work the damn thing...

"Turner to base, looks like unwelcome guests are non-hostile, they look more like colonists than soldiers. Some of them are armed, looks like phaser-based weaponry, nothing special... Turner out..."

The orbital fire was getting a little too close, prompting CT to move about five hundred meters to his right to the crest of another hill. It wasn't exactly an improvement, not by much, but he didn't want to lose his high ground advantage, he wasn't much for climbing trees...

Cap'n Jelan stood atop one of the upper ledges of the agora, watching the space. As the ship passed through what those crazy religious nuts back on Earth called "The Immaterium", he observed that the spacetime distortions had a curious effect on his own body. Everything seemed to take longer; he experimentally waved a wing and noted that, against the backdrop of the spacedome, he could see every feather moving. Probably some variety of the doppler effect.....

He was shaken from his perch as a voice from his comm badge spoke. "Cap'n?"

"Leftenant Crain?"

"Our sensors are picking up some data that may interest you...."

"I'm coming!" Jelan flapped ineffectually a few times, then dropped like a stone into the agora and regained lift as he sped past the honeycomb, soaring up to plop down in his usual location on the bridge. Gesturing with his right arm, he turned to Crain, who stood there expectantly with a computer datafeed in front of her.

"Well?" he asked.

"We've analysed those ships, and we're detecting the presence of several hundred thousand Cardassians...."

"Cardassians!" Jelan murmured, sinking back into repose. "Armed?"

"Preliminary scans indicate very few weapons if any, and there's evidence of some damage to a few of the ships."

"So it was a colony fleet," Ensign Hic said from across the bridge, slightly satisfied -- if only because Crain was wrong.

"But, that's not all...." Crain continued, "we're also picking up a number of other signs of intelligent life on the other side of the planet.... they're faint, but present. Not Cardassians, by and large. I'm picking up some definite humans, but it's all kind of vague," she stopped. "Communications have not passed between these inhabitants and the Cardassian arrivals."

"H'rm.... this is interesting indeed. Commodore!" Jelan gestured to his first officer, Commodore Parkhor Uhaaw, who jerked awake. "Yes, Cap'n?"

"I'd like to ask for your advice. Should we appear as envoys of the United Federation of Planets, bearers of peace and intentions towards all species; exercise the Prime Directive, and get the hell out of here? Or shall we go.... undercover, so to speak?"

"Envoys of the Federation, for sure," Parkhor said. "With respect, sir, we have no idea what we're getting into, and it can't end well."

Parkhor always said that. Jelan was used to it by now. He smiled. "Very well. Leftenant Crain, please mask our Federation status. Bury it under as much garbage as you can; we don't want anyone digging too deep. Have us listed as...." he paused to think for a second. "'Civilian Vessel, Unaligned.' And Helmsman, take us out of warp, and keep us quiet. I'm still debating whether or not we should let the Cardies know we're here."

As the Helmsman complied and Parkhor groaned pessimistically, stroking his feathers, Leftenant Crain spoke up. "You do know the Cardassians are no longer hostile towards the Federation, correct?"

Jelan waved a hand airily. "Who cares. We're not from the Federation, remember?"

And in a sense they were not. Kaewon III, the home planet of the Caelipiscians, was located 'way off at the outer fringes of the galaxy. The species itself was non-humanoid and had difficulty interacting with humans, partly due to its aerial nature; Caelipiscians viewed Federation ships as too small and cramped, and most of the inhabitants as foolish and incompetent. The only time Kaewon even considered itself part of the Federation was at the yearly council meetings, and because every now and then trade ships arrived to deposit and collect valuable resources.

Jelan decided, in the end, to do what any sensible adventure-loving captain would do; cf. James Kirk or Jean-Luc Picard. Rather than staying in Tenacity and waiting for something to happen, he would lead an away team down on the planet's surface to figure out what was going on, mix with the locals (not easy when you're eight feet tall with wings, three legs and five eyes) et cetera.

Turner had continued his observations, until some asshole had interrupted his peaceful watching...

"God-Dammit..."

The hired gun snatched up the comm unit with more than a degree of anger...

"Turner, we're picking up more ships headed your way, just dropped out of warp-space. Unknown in alignment or anything else for that matter..."

Already a little pissed he'd been interrupted for nothing, Turner keyed up his end of the comm...

"You mind bothering me when you actually know something as opposed to when you 'think' you know something? Jesus Christ!"

He dropped the unit with little reguard to its durability, not bothing to notice as it slid a foot or so back down the hill behind him...