NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: Please see OOC thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13705959&posted=1#post13705959) before posting. Thanks!)

The year is 2405. After a decade of war, the Borg have finally been defeated. But at what cost. The Federation is no more. Years of conflict have seen the once great Starfleet reduced to a handfull of vessels. Now, it is time to reach out, contact the survivors, and rebuild all that was lost...

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"Captain on the Bridge!"
The crew stood up, all backs ram-rod straight, as the turbolift doors closed behind him. He paused for a moment, then walked down into the command ring and stood in front of the center chair. "At ease," he said, as the crew began to return to their seats. "Status?"
"All systems are green," reported the operations officer.
"Helm ready, sir."
"Orbital departer on plot sir."
"Yard Master signaling clear sir."
"Thrusters at station keeping," he ordered.
"Aye, sir!"
The ship began to power up, the running lights activating to illuminate the hull and ID markings. The deflector array activated, and blue light started to appear from the sides of the warp nacelles as the warp engines began their start-up sequence. On the bridge, the captain sat down in his chair. "Thrusters ahead. Take us out." The ship began to slowly move forward in the drydock, shipping out of her protective birth. On his bridge, Captain Michael Scott sat in his command chair. I knew we were desperate, he thought, but I never thought they'd drag this old crate back into service. A report from the Helm interupted his thoughts.
"We are clear and free to navigate."
"Set course for Alpha Centauri," Scott ordered. "Engine Room. Mr. Daniels?"
"Aye, sir?"
"We'll be going to warp speed."
"Aye, sir."
"Course laid in, sir," reported the Helm officer.
"Stand by," Scott ordered, standing up. "All hands, this is Captain Scott. We've all been through alot these past few years. Now, it is time to find our friends. And while this old girl may not be the most fanciest ship in the Fleet, she's still got it where it counts. End of speech. Let's go to work." He sat down again in his chair. "Engage." And with a bright flash of her engines, the Starship Enterprise (http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/nx9100/Trek/Constitution-class.jpg) , NCC-1701-F, jumped to warp speed....

Govenor Vranik turned from the distant ships floating in the void beyond the view port and strode out onto the observation deck to greet the delegation. As he did, his mind flashed back for the thousandth time to the events of the previous years. The year that the Romulan Empire had died in fire, and now, the year that it would be born again, like the Phoenix rising from its ashes.

It had begun when the Borg launched their final, overwealming onslaught on the Federation. The Empire's relations with the Federation had been strengthened by the Dominion War and Picard's assistance in putting down the traitor Shinzon from Remus, yet the two powers had remained rivals, all the more so because the Dominion War had removed most of the other competition. Nonetheless, they had fought side by side against this common foe. At first they had held the line, but the shear numbers of cubes had forced their line in as the outlying colonies fell. Then the Federation forces guarding their flank along the neutral zone had been overwelmed. The Empire had reinforced the sectors in question, but not before a fleet cloaked with stollen Romulan technology had broken through.

The final attack on Romulus had been epic. A thousand ships including 500 cubes, the largest fleet in the war save for the final attack on Sol, had decloaked simultaneously in high orbit. The handful of system defence ships had lasted barely long enough to send a desperate distress call. The Borg had breached the Planetary Defense Grid in less than a minute, and their tractors had scooped up entire cities, while drones assimallated the children of Romulus. The fleet was already closing on Remus when the 4th and 5th Impirial fleets had arrived.

They had fought valiently, but they had been hopelessly ounumbered. Twenty times their ships, and every cube worth a score of Romulan cruisers. Yet they had fought on, delaying their final, devistating blow and sacrificing their lives to allow a handfull of transports to escape. Then, when only Admiral Dasor's ship remained, the commander of the 4th fleet had ordered a trilithium torpedo fired into the depths of the Romulan Sun. The resulting Supernova had anihalated the Borg cancer, but it had cut the heart from the Romulan Empire.

Since then his coloney had been cut off, hearing only vauge rumors from the Galaxy at large, lacking the ships needed to explore the remote systems that might also have been spared. Only telescopic surveys and sensor ghosts had shown that anything had survived. Now they had made contact, and with Romulans, at that. The Admiral who he was meeting today could give him the ships he require. But would he demand power to match?

As he extended a hand to his guest, Govenor Vranik made himself, and his people a promise. "I will set this right. I will lead the Romulan Republic down the right path, and bring my people glory beyond any the Empire ever held!"

From a distance, it looked like just another nondescript 10-mile-long oblong glob of nickel-iron hurtling through space. It was nondescript and boring--and of little value to mine, so common were its materials. Yet, a closer view would contradict this assessment. There were spires sticking out of it! And there were running lights in some of the craters. This was more than a mere asteroid--and, though it had been hollowed out, it was more than a mere space ship. Filled with life, it was a fully independent, self-sustaining community. Its mere existence spoke of hardships endured and overcome.

A careful study of the energy signatures that radiated from the hollowed-out asteroid would have led the casual observer to conclude that its inhabitants were a fairly hostile race known as the Borg. Again, it would take a much closer observation--seeing, for example, the room in the center of the asteroid that was marked "High Council Chamber"--to conclude that this was an offshoot of the Borg who governed themselves as a Democratic Republic. But not all was well in the democracy, as evidenced by the two Borg standing outside of the door: councilmember Falsus and a guardian soldier by the name of Bortu. Bortu, a huge, burly Klingon in his former existence, easily towered over the short, slightly-built and formerly human Falsus. Still, it was Falsus' movements that showed confidence, and Bortu's that showed tension, and perhaps a little fear.

"Open it!" the little Borg bellowed, shaking a mechanical claw at the end of his right arm, a look of utter rage taking over his features.

"I have my orders, Councilmember," Bortu replied, almost cringing.

"This is a direct violation of the Council Charter! OPEN! THAT! DOOR!"

"I'm sorry, your honor," Bortu replied.

"So be it," Falsus countered, extending the claw. From somewhere inside, a small coil popped up in the center of the circular claw's palm.

First, Bortu looked astonished. Then, after a moment, his face turned to a mixture of fear and concentration as he, too, began to manipulate the subspace around him. Before long, a small sphere of distorted space began to appear midway between them.

On the other side of the doorway, six chairs were arranged around a large, black table. Two of these were vacant this time, though--one at the head of the table and one and one at its right hand. A light from overhead provided most of the illumination, but there were panels along the walls that added to the ambience.

The four Borg seated at the table were obviously of two different camps. On one side, Boutrus and T'ourus, large and thick-bodied, sat with arms folded and looks of extreme arrogance on their faces. On the other, the tall and energetic yet lanky Bromus and the aged but not beaten Ver pierced the dim light of the chamber with their angry gazes.

"Thus, I yield the remainder of my time and call for a direct vote on our measure against the proposed meetings," Boutrus said.

"Well," Ver sputtered, "never in my life have I voted--."

"Councilmember Ver," T'ourus cut in. "Stop delaying the inevitable. I suggest we take the vote now, as Councilmember Boutrus suggests."

"Councilmember T'ourus", Ver shot back, "you are out of order. I can ban you from future meetings if you cannot control yourself."

Behind them, unnoticed by all but one, a small red spot appeared in the center of the chamber hatchway.

"Do not lecture me us on matters of procedure, my fellow councilmembers," Bromus said, the calm of a steamhammer etched into his features, as it forever seemed to be. "We have broken enough of them in this meeting alone to fill a large tome."

"Have we?" T'ourus replied, a smirk contorting his face. "Then we shall have to remedy this at our next meeting."

Bromus chuckled slightly. "Gentlemen," he said, eyeing the door in front of him, "I'm afraid it can't wait that long--fortunately."

The chamber door simply exploded. Boutrus and T'ourus ducked to avoid flying debris, but, somehow, it seemed to magically avoid Bromus and Ver. When it was over, Falsus stood in the hole where the door had been, claw on a small flange that was all that remained of it. Indignantly, head held erect, he walked into the void between the hallway and the chamber.

"Thank you for your cooperation, guard," he said. "Now, I have a council meeting to attend."

"What is the meaning of this?" asked an incensed Boutrus.

"I cannot let you pass, councilmember Falsus," the guard said.

Falsus leered at him. "Just try to stop me," he said.

"Guards," T'ourus clucked. "Arrest him! He has violated the terms of his suspension!"

"And since when do you suspend a councilmember without first telling him?" the small Borg returned. Then, he took another step through the doorway.

A small horde of guards--some humanoid, some flying drones and others simply creatures made of cables--transported in and instantly moved to restrain him. And just when things were about to get messy, a voice came from around the corner.

"Stop! What are you doing?"

Bortu looked, and the expression on his face changed to one of near worship. "Mister President," he said.

He would have been a very unremarkable humanoid had he not been cybernated. He was taller than Falsus, yet shorter than Boutrus, like just about everybody, but the look of compassion on his face differed markedly from the expressions on any of the councilmembers.

"Brothers," he said, "what could posess us to war with one another? Surely, we can solve the problems facing the New Borg together."

"Ohh, there was no problem," Falsus countered. "The door wouldn't open. These gentlemen were merely helping me to make it passable again."

President Hugh strode up to the doorway. Slowly. "Falsus," he said, "one of these days, your impatience is going to kill us."

"Or save us," Falsus replied.

Hugh turned to face the guards. "Please let us pass," he said.

As they moved out of the way, he turned back to Falsus. "You realize, my friend, that you had no chance whatsoever against those guards."

"And you realize, by the way," Falsus replied with a smirk, "that I was monitoring your progress en route to the council chamber."

"One of these days, I'm going to understand your sense of humor."

"They hope not," Falsus replied, indicating the other council members.

The two members of the council took their chairs as the guards settled back into non-alert status and technicians began reforming the doors.

"Now, Gentlemen," Hugh said, "what is--."

"A patrol," T'ourus said, "discovered the hulk of a starship--destroyed from the inside out! It is proof of the warlike nature of the races in this sector!"

"Just a moment," Falsus cut in. "Let me assimilate this infor--." His expression changed to one of disgust. "This proves nothing," he said. "Look at the metal analysis. That ship hasn't been in service in more than a century!"

"Well," Boutrus retorted, "if that's not proof enough--."

"Honestly, councilmember Boutrus," Falsus countered, "would you have us be judged by what we were like a hundred years ago?"

"Face it, Falsus," T'ourus said, "your ideas about peace and alliances will be the death of all of us! ALL of us!"

"Enough," Hugh said. "Who among us can know what the future will bring?"

"It will bring our death," T'ourus said, "if we make decisions...recklessly."

"Soon," Hugh said, "for the first time in our history, we will have the opportunity to engage other citizens of the galaxy in peaceful negotiation. Is taking that chance a reckless decision or a bold one? I give you time to ponder that question. By my executive privalege, I adjourn the council until tomorrow's meeting time."

As President Hugh finished his speech, a repair technician arrived at the broken door. Looking it up and down, he extended his arm, and two small, metallic tubules came out of the top of his hand and touched against the door frame. In a moment, the door began to reconstruct itself. In a few minutes more, it would be completely restored.

"You could've hurt someone, you know," Hugh said, looking again at Falsus.

"Nope," the little Borg replied. "That explosion went where I wanted it to. I even aimed the thing so that it would cause no harm."

"But that's--almost impossible. The calculations necessary--."

"Actually, Mr. President, all that's necessary is to look it off. If you can see the fields, you can see what will become of them."

Now, it was Hugh whose face took on a look of awe. "That's a brilliant innovation, Falsus," he said.

"Oh, nonsense," the smaller Borg replied. "It's what would happen naturally to anyone who had to work with them the way I did when I put this asteroid's defense grids together."

"Perhaps. Can you show others how this works?"

"Certainly."

"Good. This skill will be useful," Hugh said.

"I know," Falsus replied with a burgeoning grin.

Captain's Log, Stardate 34521.7. The Enterprise is in route to the Alpha Centauri system to discover the fate of that world. And dispite the age of the hull, the ship seams to be functioning flawlessly, though that may be due to the tireless efforts of Engineer Daniels and his team.

"Status?" Captain Scott asked.
"Maintaining warp 6," reported the Helm officer, "Estimate Alpha Centauri system in 6.5 hours."
"Sir! I'm picking up debris!" said the crewman at the science station.
"Location?"
"274.5 port, sir. I'm picking up Federation alloys."
"Helm, change course, drop to impulse," Scott ordered. The ship dropped out of warp and headed for the debris field. "Mr. Bolis, any more data?"
"Yes, sir," Ensign Bolis replied, "debris from multiple ships. I think it might be-" He paused to stare at the screen for a moment, "Sir! It's the 4th Fleet!"
"My god..." muttered the Helm officer.
Scott was just as stunned. Everyone on the bridge starred at the viewscreen, as dozens of blasted hulks drifted about. The remains of the former Starfleet 4th Fleet floated silently through the void, a quiet reminder of the wrath of the Borg...

(OOC: back on later!)

Turk Karrigan entered the Engineering section of the "new" ship carrying with him a small data padd. As he enters, he stares at a tall, cylinder object that contains plasma, matter/anti-matter, deuterium, and all other kinds of essential substance. It was the warp core. Warp travel wouldn't be possible without it. The assigned Chief Engineer approached Karrigan...

"She's a beauty ain't she?" said the Chief Engineer.
"You said it."
"We're almost done with the modifications..in about 30 minutes," said the Chief Engineer, "And as soon as we're done, she'll be ready for lift off."
"Glad to hear it Lieutenant."
"And oh by the way, did you tell Naomi yet?" asked the Chief Engineer.
"No not yet Frank, but I'll do it right after this...and get back to work Lieutenant" replied Karrigan with a smile on his face.
"Aye Captain!"

After a few minutes with Engineering, Captain Karrigan tapped his badge on his left chest, "Karrigan to Naomi Dawson"

A voice came through the badge, "This is Naomi."
Karrigan continued, "Where are you?"
"I'm in the Mess hall. Why?"
"I need to ask you something, Karrigan out." The Captain headed for the nearest turbolift for the Mess hall.

As the doors closed behind him, Captain Karrigan saw Naomi working on one of the panels in the mess hall. Naomi noticed him and walked towards Karrigan, "So what do you want to ask?"

"The Bridge personnel of this ship isn't complete yet," Karrigan said.
"Do you want me to work in the bridge?"
"Yes, but I want you to be my First Officer"
"umm..I don't if I can..."
"Of course you can, you worked for me in the past and now I want you to be my right hand," interrupted Karrigan, "Come one give it a shot."
"well..."
"Would it make a difference if I say Please?"
"..I'll have to think about it, I mean I don't know if I'm fit for it.."
"Alright, I'll give you some time to think about it. Thanks Naomi." Karrigan replied.

Then the Captain's badge came to life, "Engineering to Captain"
Karrigan tapped his badge, "Report."
"Captain, we're done with the modifications."
"Good. Get ready for further orders..we're departing in an hour."
"Aye Captain."

Captain Karrigan then headed back to the turbolift and when the doors slid close he ordered, "Bridge."

At the edge of old-federation space was a wasteland world, at the shipyards orbiting There was activity.

This was Devenis, capital of the Confederation and today they launched the first capital ship to be contructed in the area since the fall of the Federation. It was a rough design but it has 4 Torpedo tubes, 8 Phaser bays and was the jewel of the young nation.

On a Akira class vessel (CSS:Revelation) is where our story begins.

"It has taken 3 years, but I suppose we cannot argue with results" said John holding Romulan Ale in his hand, like most Confederates his cloths were simple due to the lack of any real material wealth.

Another man walks behind him "I suppose Perius was glad to hear about his place as Captain"

John laughed at the man "Perius wanted control of this vessel, he always did love the Revelation...It was the ship he was in command of during the borg invasion so he always wanted to have this ship back:

-----On Board the capital ship, named (CSS: Devenis)-----

Perius was not happy, he entered the ship to find it lacked the general fill of a Federation vessel. The walls looked like they had only been wielding together and then left without even a coat of paint and in the end you could tell that yes the ship was powerful but in the end it was only a shadow of what we could of contructed during the Federation days.

He walk into the bridge to find my head of security Cameron at his station with everyone else coming up to congradulate me. Perius sist next to him after the greeting and starts to talk too him.

Cameron simply starts by saying "How can they expect me too keep this ship secure? we has only enough weapons to supply half of my security teams and in the end we did not even get the cannons that I designed and was promised would be installed"

"You cant expect them to install cannons capable of destroying cities onto a ship that is meant to give people hope, John never trusted me thinking I want control of his half-arsed nation" Perius only worked with the Confederation by chance, he was sent by what was left of Starfleet command to protect a convoy of Refugee's that were from the war ravaged worlds and since he got no further orders from earth and his ship at the time lacked supplies they had to remain at Devenis.

Cameron quickly went "The Revelation would of been better, we could of taken the supples and ran back to earth....But with this thing they can keep a nice little eye on us" The bridge resembled a much rougher federation bridge, without the nice coats of paint and a military sort of elegance.

Devenis did have one thing that gave us a advantage, we had allot of mineral resources that allowed us to continue contruction without Federation supply.

Perius looks over too the helmsman

"Alright lets get this thing moving"

As the ship exits it was on a mission to look over the Terraforming projects on Zulu-Alpha and has the ship entered warp 9 Perius realised that he might be stuck on this ship for the rest of his life.

(OOC: how long has it been since the war ended, and have the Borg been completely anhialated?)


With a hiss, the doors to the observation deck slid open, admitting four armored Romulans with forbidding scowls on their faces and disruptor pistols holstered at their sides. Their insignia marked two as ordinary Centurions, one as a Sub-Commander (probaly the Admiral's personal assisstant), and the last as Admiral Tomall himself. On the surface they strode in and stood at attention with a millitary precision that Govenor Vranik had to admire, knowing what they must have been through. But underneath there was an unmistakable weariness, and in their eyes a quite desperation that told of great suffering and struggle. This was hopeful, as sickening as he found the thought. Perhaps they would be more amenable to negotiation.

"Admiral Tomall, it is an honour and a relief to see you here. We had thought little of the fleet had survived." He hoped he had put a good mix of welcome and cautiousness into the greeting, but he was slightly shaken by the unexpected answer he recieved.

"The Empire is dead. So is the fleet, save for what I retain under my command. Times such as these require a strong hand to do what must be done. For this reason, I demand that you hand over this system and its facillities to me immediately. In exchange for your service to my fleet, I offer you my protection."

The answer was as bad as any he could have imagined. Unless you counted nightmares. There was always that. This man not only wished to replace the civillian government, he intended to do so not even in the name of the Romulan Empire, but as a feudal Warlord, a mear pirate. Anger filled Vranik, but he forced it down. Now was not the time to pannick. He held the cards, as long as he could make Tomall see that.

"I am the lawful Govenor of this system. The Empire is dead, but the culture, traditions, and values of the Romulan people remain. Furthermore, it is my duty to retain control of this system, and rule it in the Praetor's stead until contact is restored with the Praetor or a lawful representative. I fully intend to do my duty, and if you attempt to take this system by force, I will have no choice to engage your forces."

If the Admiral was surprised, he hid it well. Or perhaps he was simply beyond feeling something like surprise.

"If you fight, you will lose."

Vranik smiled.

"Yes, but so will you. One word, and my men will destroy the ship yards. But why must we fight? You are Romulan, and so am I. Perhaps we are all that is left of our people. If we fight, we will both lose. But what if we work together? We need each other. I need ships, to protect this system, to make contact with other survivers, to expand our resource base. You have ships. But you need a shipyard, technitions to repair your fleet, a supply base of your own. I can provide it. Apart, we can only fail. Together, we can be strong, perhaps even rebuild some of what was lost. I give you my word: join me, and you will have a voice in my administration, access to this system's assets, and full command of military reasources. I pledge it on my honor as a Romulan and as Govenor of this world. Just as I vow that if you oppose me, I shall fight you to the death. Now what say you?"

Admiral Tomall pondered the Govenor, then nodded.

"Give me two hours. You shall have my answere then."

"So be it. Until we meet again, Admiral."

The turbolift doors hissed close behind Captain Karrigan as he enters the bridge. A crewman noticed his presence, "Captain in the bridge!"

The rest of the crew member on the bridge halted their work and paid respect for the Captain and show the chain of command.

"At ease," Captain Karrigan said as he walked towards the Operations console, "So what's our status?"
"We should be ready anytime soon."
"Alright, for now, just ease up...we should save our energy for our journey."
"Aye Captain."

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

One hour later


Captain Karrigan had been working in the bridge checking every panel to make sure their journey would be safe. He walked towards the Operations chief again.

"What's the status?"
"We're ready when you are captain."
"I see...well I guess it's time to announce our mission," Karrigan said.
"Sir, your're on right now," said the Operations chief.
"Thank you Ensign."

Captain Karrigan walked towards the middle of the bridge. His speech can be heard all over the ship...

"This is Captain Turk Karrigan speaking. Welcome aboard USS Omega. For years now, we were plague by a terrible war. We have been losing against the Borg. They have destroyed our homes, our planets, our families, even the Federation is gone. As a result, we were stranded in this planet and took refuge in Centauri VII to get away from the Borg and survive. After 10 years of war, the last of the Borg were defeated and we were free at last. The Borg is no more!....However, the war cost us a lot. Our technology were destroyed and most of our defence is destroyed. We don't even know what's happening in in our system (Alpha Centauri). We lost our communications and connections with other species. But today, we will re-established our connections. For once again, we will leave the ground and explore space yet again. We will find survivors and make contact with our fellow allies. Our isolation in this planet will be at last finished....And May God be with us in this journey."

As soon as Captain Karrigan finished his speech, the crews in all decks cheered as they anticipate the excitement this exploration will bring. Captain Karrigan sat down on the captain's seat. Then the turbolift doors opened. The Captain smiled perhaps with excitement as Naomi Dawson entered the bridge.

"I thought you would never accept my offer," Captain Karrigan said.
"Well, think again," Naomi smile.
"Welcome to the bridge First Officer Dawson."

Both of them sat down on their seats.

"Sir, the President of Centauri VII is hailing us."
"On screen," An mid-aged humanoid appeared on the main view screen.
"Good afternoon Mr.President," Karrigan greeted him.
"Good afternoon Captain. I'm just here to say goodbye and good luck with your journey."
"Thank you sir. Thank you for all you've done for us."
"I'm glad I could help."
"Don't worry Mr. President, I'm sure Starfleet will be able to help your planet rebuilt."
"Thank you Captain, well I dont want to delay your trip so good luck with you and your crew."
"Thank you sir," The viewscreen return to the view of the scenery.

"All departments are ready for departure sir," the Ops head said.
"Understood," Captain Karrigan replied, "Helm, take us out to space."
"Aye Captain."

The engines of the Intrepid-Class (http://www.drgnscl.com/images/intreppid.gif) USS Omega roared as it lifts off the ground and heads out to exit the atmosphere. The restored 24th Century ship was still in great shape, even though it is old. But the crew had no choice since it was the only ship in their arsenal.

"Captain, we just exited the atmosphere," the Helm said.
"Set a course for Alpha Centauri IV...Full Impulse"
"Yes Captain," the helm replied, "Course laid in should I go to impulse now sir?"
Captain Karrigan looked at Naomi, "Will you do the honors Commander?"
Naomi then looked at the helm, "Engage."

"You know, Falsus, our tactical department confirms you conjectures from the council this morning," Hugh said.

"Well--the facts always speak for themselves!" his smaller friend replied.

"You know, it never ceases to amaze me how you can be so logical on the one hand and, yet, at the same time, so emotional."

Falsus laughed. "Logic versus emotion is a false dichotomy," he replied. "Truth is they go together like brothers."

"Even brothers fight--and that was quite an advanced term you used there."

"We're trying to meet with the remnants of the United Federation of Planets," Falsus replied. "When we do, we're going to need to speak Galactic Standard well enough so that they don't negotiate us under the table, so to speak. I'm studying it."

"Again, sensible and emotional all at once."

"Your point?"

"There are those who would use your directness to belittle--abase--you."

Falsus smiled at the vocabulary jest. "Oh, just let them try," he said.

"They already did."

"You mean this morning? That was nothing! I didn't even lose my temper--and I bet that really got them."

"This time."

"Well, we're dealing with that," Falsus continued. "The real issue is whether we're going to walk through the galaxy with our heads held high or crawl around inside some oversized rock for the rest of our existence--and they know it as well as I do. Look at you. Did you get where you are by hiding from life's challenges?"

"No, but, likewise, I never went looking for a conflict."

"It's not a conflict that I'm looking for, it's peace."

"And yet, you pursue this peace with a rare aggression."

Falsus turned to look Hugh straight in the eye. This was difficult, because Falsus didn't have eyes--both of them had been replaced with ocular implants. Still, the set of his jaw showed that his strong will was coming out again. "I want," he said, "to pursue peace with the same aggression with which our forbears pursued conflict. Is this so baneful a desire?"

Hugh smiled wryly. "Can I get back to you on that one?"

"Certainly. Take all the time you like. When you make up your mind, I'll be here waiting for you. I hope you can make it."

(Megalithon, see OOC thread...)


"Do you have a report?" Captain Scott asked the science officer.
"Yes sir," the Vulcan replied, "I have identified 14 seperate Starfleet vessels. However, there is enough debris for several others."
"So, this is the remains of the 4th Fleet," Scott muttered.
"Sir," the Vulcan said, " there is more. I have confirmed that there is debris from at least three seperate Borg Cubes."
The silence that filled the bridge was deafining. "Are you certain?" Scott asked.
"Yes sir. And several smaller Spheres. But there is more debris that is Borg in nature, but which I have yet to identify as an individual vessel."
"Do any of the Starfleet ships appear salvageable?"
"Only one." The Vulcan brought up an image of a small ship, drifting amongst the wreckage of a Cube. Even with the appearent battle damage, a name could be made out on the side of the nacelle.
Defiant
"The main hull is intact, and there is no sign of a core breach or radiation contamination," the officer reported. "I believe it can be salvaged safely."
"Agreed." Scott returned to his chair. "Lieutenant, send a message back to StarFleet Command. 'Have found remains of the 4th Fleet. One ship marked for salvage. Continuing on to Alpha Centauri system. Scott out.'"
"Yes sir!"
"Helm, resume course."
"Sir!" The Enterprise slowly drifted away from the wreckage. When she jumped to warp, the flash was just bright enough to reveal a single human body, quietly drifting through the graveyard...

----------

Excellent, he thought while reviewing the refit reports. Everything is on schedual. A chime at the door interupted his thoughts. "Enter!"
The doors slid open, and a Andorian male entered the room. "Sir. I have the latest design review for your approval." He set a PADD on the desk.
"Thank you," replied the human. "Is the new design ready for construction?"
"Yes, once you have approved it," the Andorian replied. "The Utopia Planitia Yards have completed most reconstruction, and are ready to commence starship construction."
"Good." He reviewed the data on the PADD for a few minutes. "Consider your new design approved," he said, while handing the PADD back to the Andorian. "Have you decided on a name yet?"
"Yes sir," the Andorian replied. "The Avenger..."

“In the Great Struggle with the machines; we lost many things; our technology, our people, whole parts of our society but we never lost our hope. And; So we go on” – For I have Seen the Heavens, Professor Marko Adrovonivitch, Datalinks

Space
The Mobius Ship yards were a mass of metal machines construction gear with nanobot fabricators and automated assembly lines; heavily automated beyond a lot of the scientists knowledge for the most part. But it was once child’s play…unfortunately most of the archives were destroyed by the Borg, few remained from the age before the dark times. The facility was orbiting a large moon on the outer reaches of the home system relatively intact, just needing a reactor Restart and a lick of paint. Nestled in its cradle was the latest ship of the line “Zophia”; the first Yuji Class Battle Star to be built in nearly 50 years since the line was decommissioned several decades earlier; nothing compared to the Royal Navy in its hay day though. The new Zophia was 800 meters long and built like an armoured brick with multiple layers of fortified plate duratanium Ballistic Steel composite.

Engine room, HMS Zophia
Sparks came from a console that flickered briefly and made an unappreciative humming noise; from under the console crawled halfway into a panel space fiddling with its insides Chief Engineer Rita DeLine yelled several expletives. “Ma’am?” young assistant mechanic looked up from another console monitoring various power flow emissions.

“Yah?” Rita replied; her voice muffled by the console.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Sure”; Rita replied fiddling with something; “Never…better!” the console she was working on changed its tone of hum to a steady one and Rita slid out.

Command and control
Captain Elizabeth Doyle walked onto deck; her curled dark hair tied back into a Pony Tail; she strode over to her chair; giving it a quick appreciative pet before sitting down; the Comfort Form moulding itself to her rear. Thankfully one of the things that had not been forgotten during the machine war. She glanced around at her Crew; mostly Green Horn recruits since many of the Veterans were still on the other warships that patrolled the home system. The fact the council had even spared the Zophia for exploration was a small miracle in of itself “Commander Frakes, Systems Report” she commanded.

Commander Jonathan Frakes; a man with a bushy beard turned from where he was poking one of the touch pad consoles teaching a young female Ensign how to program the Navigation Computer. He straightened his dark Blue Uniform that had two lapel bars; one gold one silver signifying the rank of ‘Sub-Commander’ usually shortened coequally to Commander or in this case; simply ‘XO’. He snapped a Salute; and stood with its hands clasped behind his back in practised military precision.

“Ma’am, Engineering reports that we’re ready for full reactor start up and should be under our own power within the hour; Weapons report ready, Shields…not so much” he reported.

“What’s wrong with the shields?” Doyle asked; crossing her legs.

“Ma’am as you know; this hull was never originally designed for shields; the Engineers have had to jury rig the space for the generators and the reactors aren’t exactly fantastic” Frakes answered.

“Meaning?” she said raising one eyebrow,

“That we have Energy shields; for five minutes in any given situation; after that the shields will drop to recharge the generators; this class was always designed for its armour to be the main protection layer anyway; ” Fakes nodded. And it was true; the Yuji Class was never designed to accommodate anything fancy and to fit everything the designers wanted onto the hull compromises had to be made until the fleet yards were rebuilt and they could start building larger hulls.

He tapped his communications earpiece briefly; “Ma’am Engineering is reporting they are ready for reactor start up” Frakes added.

“Alright, XO Bring the Cold Fusion reactors online”

“Aye, Aye” he nodded and started giving a string of orders; first the inertial dampners were brought to maximum and structural integrity was re-enforced with auxiliary power from the stations reactors. The Deuterium tanks were opened and the Zophira’s own reactors fired for the first time outside of a test lab; the lights flickered briefly as all systems made the switch over to internal power.

“How are we doing XO?” Doyle asked.

“All Auxiliary Systems are stable and running on internal power; Cold Fusion Reactor output is nominal” Frakes replied.

“Alright, initiate main start up sequence from Auxiliary to main systems” Doyle ordered and her crew went about carrying out there orders; systems were checked and double checked by automated sensors and physical engineers; Ship Yard Control Beams were retracted along with space gang ways and power lines. Several Guidance lights were turned on; lighting the exterior of the ship and the main and secondary deflectors glowed a blue hue as the field the projected cleared space debris out of the ship path. The Main engines; a Cluster of Six high output Pulse Fusion Ion Engines started to glow bright White; bright enough to light up space that they could be seen from the moons surface.

“Start up complete” Frakes Reported reading the reports on his display.

“Navigation, Take us out, One Quarter Ahead” Doyle Ordered.

“Aye, Aye, One Quarter Ahead Sub Light” The Navigation Officer Repeated

The Massive 800 meter long armoured battleship started to lumber forward clearing the dockyards behind it. “Take us to full ahead till we reach the edge of the system Miss Gater” Doyle Commanded.

“Aye, Aye Captain, Full Ahead Sub-Light”, she repeated with military precession as the mammoth battle-star lumbered forward with all the agility of a brick; till it reached its governed Sub-Light speed of 26 PSL

“Ma’am; we have just cleared the outer marker” Gater; the young blonde officer at Navigation replied with a smile.

“Good; All Hands Rig for FTL; Ready Hyperspace Engines” Doyle ordered.

“Aye, Aye, Rig for FTL, Spooling up Hyperspace Engines” Gater replied.

“Set Course for nearest planet by your star maps” Doyle Ordered; “Confirm and engage”

“Course Confirmed; Planet P7X46D, Nav-Com, Confirmed; Hyperspace Engines Spooled up; Jumping to FTL in 5..4..3..2…1” Gater reported as the lights dimmed slightly and a loud humming noise filled there ears; then the ship disappeared into a cyan blue and mint green Hyperspace window…

(Hyperspace – much Faster than standard warp, Slower than Trans-warp)

The Zophia emerged from Hyperspace several hours later; into the near orbit of a barren world; covered in a magenta and lavender swirling gas; P7X46D had once been home to a race of Bipedal Animorphs. The Captain gave a small silent prayer for them to the gods.

“Captain’ detecting Debris!” Lieutenant Commander John Shepherd said; looking over the tactical information.

“Clarify”, Doyle Ordered.

“Looks like a Borg cube”

“Open all gun ports, ready main batteries, Get me a Firing solution Mr Shepherd”, Doyle Ordered with a grim knot in her stomach.

“Wait Captain; its dead is space; no power, no life signs but looks mostly intact, I’m also picking up several silhouettes possibly federation in nature some are mostly intact by the looks of it” Shepherd replied.

“Federation…I didn’t think they were this far out” Doyle replied thinking it over; “Alright; Launch an Aero Scout; if it doesn’t get challenged by the cube; Prepare two Boarding teams; One will shuttle to the Cube; the other to the largest of the Federation vessels. Search for anything useful that we can take back home including technology” Doyle Ordered. Salvage was Salvage; the Zophia had large enough Cargo Stores to take large chucks of the debris field back for analysis or it they were lucky maybe a whole ship could be towed back. Moments later the sleek shape of the Aero-Scout left the main launch tube; the automated AeroScout was fast and agile like a fighter but really against a Borg cube; if it had power was nothing more than target practice..

Governor Vranik bowed low and then stepped back from the Admiral's entourage. In those last two hours all the fear and suspense of three years of near-total isolation had built to the breaking point, and he had feared that the Admiral would choose battle before cooperation with a civilian governor. But Tomall had seen reason, bending his pride out of need for a base to repair his fleet, and had agreed to work with Vranik. Now Vranik had the ships that he needed to secure this system and begin moving outwards. But there was still so much to do.

"Now that we have formalized arrangements, i would like to break the good news to the citizens on the planet below. It has been a dark time for us, and to know that we are no longer alone will bring great joy and comfort to us all. It may even be that some of my people have family among your fleet. I suggest that my secretary help your aid draw up a list of names to be posted both on your ships and in the station here. In the meantime, I would like very much to have an opportunity to review your troops. I also request permission to bring my military advisor aboard as well. Captain Vannon is Chief of Planetary Security, and in charge of station security and ground defense. I also suggest that you have someone meet with the system's Chief of Operations, to discuss repairs and resupply for your fleet."

"I will do as you suggest, of course. If you come aboard tomorrow, I'll have a proper reception waiting to greet you."

"Thank you, but I would prefer to inspect your fleet at once. There will be no need for a formal reception. I assure you I will take no offense. I know what you must have been through." Vranik smiled inwardly at his new partner's brief but noticeable flicker of annoyance. At least now he would get to see the true state of his fleet, instead of a polished show of grandeur. he laughed silently but bitterly at the thought. It had been long since his people had known grandeur.


In her office near the bridge of the central station, Operations Chief Nisora studied her data pad. This reunion was a mirricle, but she did not relish the task ahead. She scanned through the list, her agile mind sorting ships according to priority, analyzing all that had to be done, and how it might be accomplished.

Formerly on the edge of known Federation space sat Rashar a once lush world that the federation considered M-Class, now it was a recovering world from a nuclear halocust from the First Colonial War nearly eight years ago. The Federation, thirty years before the Borg War, had placed the planet under a post-industrialized civilization classification, and therefore protected it from outside interference. Since then the population of Rashar had boomed from nine billion to twenty in thirty years, and they had discovered FTL travel. By the time of the First Colonial War eight worlds had been colonized. The heavy hand of Rashar and the subjection of the colonies as mere harvesting fields lead to the nuking of Rashar sending the inhabitants fleeing for new worlds. When the war was over the new homeworld of Rashari Prime became the seat of the United Colonies.

Today thirty-two systems, and twenty-eight billion people make up the United Colonies. Even with the advent of FTL Jump Drive technology not there still was not much difference from many post-modern civilizations.

The United Colonies of Rashari escaped the Borg War because of the lack of technological advancement of the original homeworld, and thrived because of the lack of advanced governments.
---------------------------------

Battlestar Apollon

Commander Abrams stood, drinking his morning tea before going on duty, on the foredeck of his ship looking downward on a world he scarcely remembered from his childhood. His homeworld of Rashari Prime was the capital of the civilization, culture, technology and education, but the beauty was not comparable to the stories he had heard of about Rashar. Within the last year the colonies had begun a project to rebuild the homeworld of their civilization, and with that he and numerous other Commanders were given the job of babysitting convoyes, but today he had been given new orders.

Recently the fleet expeditions had been coming into contact with ancient wreckages of war torn fleets, advanced alien technology, though most had been classified. To date any living or dead aliens had yet to be encountered by the United Colonies.

From what the orders said a planet was located, from an active computer network, that seems to have been home to one of the warring races, called Earth. His job would be rejoin Battlestar Group 3 consisting of four destoryers and two Escortstars(F-304s from stargate), refuel and resupply.

Commander Abrams walked onto the CIC, looked around, just as someone shouted, "COMMANDER ON DECK!", and the room came to attention. "At you were", he walked up to the command console, "Morning Colonel, how was swing-shift?"

"Well, other than babysitting."

The commander again looked at his weary officers, "Listen up, we received orders today to depart from Rashar and head for the 3rd BSG. We are heading for the fridges and beyond. You have heard the rumors, now we are going to see these things for ourselves. Command expects us to possibly find an alien civilization, and yes they do exist. Lt. Simmons spool up the FTL Drive and prepare to jump to Sector 72."

Several minutes later, "Commander, FTL spun up and coordinate locked in."

A long beep was heard over the ships internal comm system, "All hands prepare to jump. Jump Leutenant." Abrams felt a tingle and then it was over.

"Jump complete. DRADIAS is picking up IDCs of the Battlestar Group 3", said Simmons.

"Move to intercept. Inform Colonel Gideon that I am now in command and move the group to form on the Apollon."

As Commander Abrams had thought that would be all he heard, "Sir, Colonel Gideon says that a Colonial Tranport has been tasked to the Group."

"Politicians, they just can not keep their hands off the military", he muttered. "What class of FTL systems does it have?"

Simmons spoke back in the headset and looked back to the Commander, "The ship has a class two FTL system. It is a Sullust 387 Exec. transport design. It can fit in one of our flightpods."

The commander rolled his eyes, "Tell the transport to dock with us, and that they will remain onboard until we find them something to do." He turned to his XO, "Col. Halverson, I am heading down to greet our guest, can you handle this?"

Jennifer smiled, "Yes, Sir." She thought better him than me, as he walked out of CIC.

Perius sits at a chair facing the window, he was a war veteran but not even he had control of his emotions.

He was part of the fleet that defended Sol and with doing so defended the Federations heart, His small Akira class ship together with what at the time was left of starfleet againts the Borg invasion.

He presses a button to activate deepspace communications and put a word out on a old Federation frequency.

"This is Captain Perius of the USS Revelation, I am sending this word out to ask if anybody can hear me. I am currently at the Federation colony of Devenis but im afraid things are getting worse out here, the old Govenor has taken control of the system and is holding in under a kind of house arrest...I know he will find out about this message but I can offer you several Federation vessels if you come and bring the system back under control" I takes his finger off the button, he did not know what to expect really since most likely long rang communications technologies were disabled or possibly destroyed during the Borg invasion...but this is the first time he has had a ship to communicate with.

"I hope you know what you are doing Captain, the Confederacy will not look kindly on this" Cameron said in the same room

Alpha Centauri IV (aka Velestus or Centaurus

"Captain, we have arrived at our destination," said the Helm.
"On screen," Captain Karrigan ordered.

The plain scene of space instantly switched to a view of a whole planet on the viewscreen. The planet looks just like Earth...of course it was an M-class planet. However, the planet looked different from the last time Captain Karrigan had saw it. The atmosphere seemed to have more overcast clouds and some of the parts of the surface were red/orange...it's like those parts were molting. The bridge crew were relieve to see the planet in one piece. However, they were all thinking the same thing...Are their any survivors left?

After a few seconds Captain Karrigan finally ordered, "Helm, take us into orbit."
"Aye sir."

The restored Intrepid-Class USS Omega neared the planet for orbit head on initially. Then it turned facing its port side towards the planet. The impulse engine powered down and the ship was orbiting the planet.

"Sir, we're in orbit."
"Good job," Captain Karrigan commented then looked over to Tactical station, "Start scanning the planet for any life signs."

"I'm on it Captain," the Bajoran in Tactical said. She pressed a few buttons on her console to "check" for any life signs.
Then finally she said, "Sir, according to my scans there are life signs on the planet," she paused, "...but very few sir..."

Captain Karrigan's hopes went down quickly, but he must not give up...there are still people alive down there. He then looked towards the Conn section of the bridge, "Can we hail any of them?"

"Yes sir, but I suggest we use all subspace frequencies if we're going to contact them."

"Do it."

The bridge crew waited for a response.

"Sir...no response.."

"Damn...." Captain Karrigan whispered.

Then having thought about a plan, he contacted his Chief Security, "Get your men ready....we're going for the surface."

At last Chief Nisora put down the data pad with a sigh. In the heyday of the Empire, this fleet would have been outgunned by a number of sector fleets, but it was far beyond the capacity of this system's shipyard, even if they had been able to ship in the spare parts they would require from Romulus. Romulus. Her mind flinched away from the memory of the night she had spent sitting in her darkened quarters, unable to sleep or cry, toying with a disruptor pistol and contemplating weather to follow her family and her home world into the abyss as so many others of her people had done. Even now, her quarters and office remained shadowed and draped, in silent mourning of what was gone for ever. In truth, she would relish the task ahead. She had always liked a challenge, especially now that it kept her mind to occupied to dwell on the past.

Sitting in his quarters on the Scimitar Class flagship Imperial Star, Admiral Tomall contemplated the events of the last four hours. He briefly regretted that he had given the Governor a chance to hand over his authority, rather than simply de-cloaking over the shipyards. It was infuriating to have to bend his will to this pretenceous little diplomat, all the more so because he knew that in some ways, at least, Governor Vranik was right. He needed a loyal system to support his fleet, not one taken and held by force. Besides, this turn of events opened up new possibillities. If Vranik was nieve enough to keep his word, he would soon be in over his head. And in the far more plausible senario that he broke their agreement, he would have the perfect pretext to remove Vranik. Either way, he would achieve his victory. Once more he spoke his oaths as a Romulan Soldier, taken with every promotion, and once more he spoke the oath he had made after he heard of Romulus's fate.

"I will rebuild the Empire. I will make her great again. And when the Romulan people have risen from the ashes, I will lead them to glory such as they have never known before!"

Tomall rose and strode to the main hanger to meet Vranik's delegation with renewed confidence. Vranik might know politics, but Tomall knew war. Vranik's age, the Age of the Diplomat, was over. Now had begun the Age of the Soldier, and he would be its master.

The ship arrived at Zulu-Alpha after 8 hours in warp, Perius was still in his quarters when the message came through to his room.

"Captain, we have arrived at the colony" Perius heard and frankly Perius did not care, but in the end it was good that atleast this Confederation was trying to help other nearby Federation colonies.

Devenis was near Starbase 343, which until the war was our main source of supply in things like exotic food and advance medicine and since the Collapse of the Federation it has been hard too keep Devenis and the surrounding worlds going.

So John the federation representative of the Sector decided it was important too keep what he could together with what was left of Starfleet at the colony so he forcibly toke over several federation vessels.

USS Victoria, Sabre Class
USS Recon, Sabre Class
USS Siren, Excelsior (refit) Class
USS Revelation, Akira Class
and this ship, which is the only ship contructed by the Confederation it was a unique design and would serve it's purpose good as the Confederate enforcer.

Perius's mind travels back too the war, to think it was only 3 years ago he was left all alone in this out of the way system. He remembered the last battle, how the federation died to defend the galaxy.

After the battle was won (in a way) Perius was captain of a few of the remaining ships and scared of another borg attack was told he would escort a convoy of 250,000 Federation citizens to the Devenis system and with his was the above mentioned ships all but the Revelation did not take part in the last battle.

The Federation must of collapsed or with all Perius knew the borg had returned and conquered Earth, most likely all that is left of the Federation is the founding worlds since when he did a survey of Starbase 343 about a year ago he found it with heavy damage and currently the USS Recon has the job of overlooking repairs by Confederate Engineers.

He pushes down on the badge on his chest, In the end Perius accepted nothing but the fact he was a member of the Federation and his duty was too protect the Federations interests in the area.

"I am coming to the bridge, open channels with the CSS Siren since she should still be stationed here"

"Yes Captain"

Hanger Deck 01
The Large hanger deck was one of four flight pods on the Zohpia; Two Marine shuttle craft were being prepared by Pilot Alison ‘Shade’ Becket and Johnny ‘Shaft’ Magara while a Marine team was gearing up and checking over equipment. A full complement of 20 fully armed Marines would be crammed in like sardines for the boarding party.

“This is Rapier Six and Rapier Five to tower, ready for launch over”, Shade spoke over the Radio

“Roger that Rapier Six; clear for launch over” the Air group ‘Air Boss’ spokes back and the shuttles began there short flight out; the two shuttles split after clearing the ships hull. One headed for the Federation Ship, which looked like a worn down Intrepid Class; while the second Shuttle headed towards the more ominous Borg Cube. It was a short, very quiet trip

The Cube
“Detecting no signs off life; power output or atmosphere out there, ” Shade said; “So use your EVA Packs” she added. The Marines clipped on their masks and pulled down the one way glare proof visors and pressed a button on there necks; the Marine armours interlocking parts compressed to hermetically seal and create a mini life support system for hazardous environments. Shade sealed the pilot’s area to prevent explosive decompression and then neutralised the rear cabin pressure before lowering the rear door. The Marine team proceeded slowly out of the shuttle into the Borg Cube; which had an eerier feel to it. Around them lay several vessels of unknown origin in various states of stripping for parts; obviously partly assimilated.

Gunfire erupted; “JESUS CHRIST! ITS FUCKING ALIVE!” one of the younger marines yelled emptying a full clip; as two other marines came to calm him down. “Jones! Cease fire; its not alive” Colonel Frankfurter ordered putting a reassuring hand on the young man as a Borg body floated by, both its eye-sockets were emptied leaving only dark holes and its skin looked like it had been bathed in battery acid.

“This Place is creepy man” One of the marines said poking away a floating body with the barrel of his weapon.

“Alright; lets split up into teams of five; Vanessa, you go to whatever the heck doubles for the main engine room on this thing and download any information you can from the computer and try and get atmosphere and gravity online. Stuart; you, Mac and Johnny start securing this ship; we’ll use the ‘shuttle bay’ as Grid Zero; mark and map everything so we know where we’ve been. Remember try not to touch anything; buttons on Borg ships tend to make bad things happen” Frankfurter commanded; “Bennett; Albertez; guard the shuttle bay; the rest of you with me”

Federation Ship
The Shuttle approached the main shuttle bay in the rear of the intrepid class star ship; which was rolling in space obviously without any kind of structural integrity; plus the bay doors were closed.

“I can’t get the doors open from here; our system is not compatible someone is going to have to EVA over and open the doors manually” the pilot ordered. One of the engineering staff attached to the marine unit started strapping on the space suit and stepped into a separate compartment to be ‘flushed’ out into space using small thrusters. She attached herself to the federation hull by cable umbilical and plugged in a portable generator to the available port and unscrewed a panel to find the hydraulic release for the door system having had the sensors on the shuttle scan for it before she launched’. She pulled the release leaver and moments later the shuttle bay doors started to open and the shuttle landed inside the far too pristine and empty shuttle bay. The shuttle doors opened and the Marines field out securing the bay from any threat; using a hand held computer Helen accessed the internal computer for a basic systems report. “Power and Life support is intermittent; probably from the auxiliary systems; so use the EVA systems in your suits until I can get Life support back online at full capacity” she nodded. Then teams split up as the engineering teams went to find Engineering and the command deck; while Marines started a deck by deck search of the ship.

Battlestar Apollon

It had been the third of twenty-two jumps to the Federation planet called earth. The Battlestar Group had used information from a Federation Galaxy-class computer core to jump to earth. While the FTL Jump Drive technology was more advanced than warp technology the Rashari tech still lacked much in navigation and computer advances. So the twenty-two jumps were to visit seventeen known locations of shipyards and fleet headquarters trying to gain more information and technology.

Commander Abrams stood as the ship jumped to Starbase 842. "Sir, Jump successful", proclaimed Lt. Simmons.

"Launch alert fighters. Ascertian the situation in the local area", he picked up the CIC phone, "Abrams to port flight pod, Marines prep for launch", and hung up the phone. "Colonel any signs of activity?"

"No, all lights are green."

"Have lead Vipers eyeball the station. Launch Raptors and place in a holding pattern."
--------------------

This approach continued most of the stations and systems were desolate not containing any space-faring inhabitants. Few of the targets had any value other than raw materials most had no working memory cores or were even intact enough to perform any retrival ops.

Colonel Gideon looked up at Abrams, "Vipers on board. FTL drive spun up for jump to Sector 001 on your command."

"Jump!" It took at little less than a second.

"Jump complete sir. Scrambling Alert fighters."

Captian Allen felt his fighter lerch forward and then he was staring out into space. It was Sector 001, home to earth. Who knew what they were in for. "All fighters form on me, eyes wide", were his orders as the sweep around to see the view of the blue marble hanging in space.

Admiral Tomall bowed stiffly to Governor Vranik as he stepped forward into the hanger to stand before the line of nearly 200 crew and an acompanying contingent of around 100 soldiers. For his part, Vranik could only admire the way the soldiers still stood in ordered lines, their heads held high, as if their uniforms were not patched dirty and worn, their weapons peicemeal. But their faces were drawn and haggered, and so many eyes held the look of men who had given up, or else a quiet, desperate despair. Yet their was hope their as well. Vranik struggled to keep his emotions in check. These men and women depended on him. He would not, could not fail them. Striding along the ranks, he adressed Tomall in a loud, carrying voice.

"Congratulations, Admiral. Your people have held together through the hardest of times, and their fortitude is a credit to the Romulan People. Soon the time will come to go out and explore, to make contact with the others who have been as fortuate as we, and to rebuild what has been lost. In all this I pledge to serve the best interests of the Romulan People to the best of my abillities. But first we must rebuild our strength, take stock of our reasources. Admiral, I am recomending a rotating two week shore-leave for all personel in your fleet. Now, if you would acompany me to the surface, I would like to inform you as to our own capbibillities. I would also like to introduce you and your officers to my staff. Is that amenable to you?"

Tomall frowned. Vranik was clearly giving orders masquerading as requests, trying to portray himself as the one in command. He could hardly refuse, and an excuse might seem obvious, but he needed to somehow assert his authority.

"Of course I will join you on the surface, in a few hours. Is that agreeable?" He had the pleasure of seeing a flicker of frusteration cross the governor's face, but Vranik quickly hid it.

"Of course, Admiral. And I think you will find this meeting most enlightening."

As he boarded his diplomatic shuttle, Vranik reflected on the results of the inspection. Overall, it had gone well, indeed better than he had expected. Of course, it would not do to underestimate Tomall. No Romulan reached such a rank without being skilled in the game of political manuverings. Still, it had gone well. He had calculated his speech carefully, not overtly insulting to the man who had held these soldiers together, but designed to identify himself with an optimistic vision of the future. He had also may sure to voice his shoreleave "recomendation" in such a manner that Tomall could not refuse without losing face in front of his men. Of course, it remained to be seen if they could still hope after so many years of hell. And of course, Tomall would manuver to maintain exclusive authority over his men. Tomall's attempt to assert himself at their departure had been all to predictable. Vranik was quite pleased at the shadow of anoyance he had "allowed" to cross his face. With any luck, Tomall would think him easily disconcerted, and thus more easily outmanuvered. It had been a simple ruse, but an oft effective one. Now he turned to Chief Nisora.

"What's the status on the fleet, Chief? What can we get opperational, bearing in mind our special reserves, and the shore leave I recomended?"

"Contact has been made with the CSS Siren Captain, they have accepted our request to hail"

A women appears on the screen at the middle of a bridge, this was Jessica who was the only person other then the original revelation crew that Perius trusted.

"nice to see you here Captain, what orders does the council bring us today?"

"Nothing much Jessica, we are simply here to bring reports of the system back to Devenis. So how are things on the colony?"

"Could be better, but could be much worse. The planet has only just enough oxygen too support human life and the population is still living in the massive Bio-Domes"

"Whats the population? we heard of Romulan and Kingon refugee's"

Jessica laughed "yes we got about 2000 Romulans and 1200 Klingons that arrived on civilian craft...they did not know where to go and were grateful for a place to stay, but still nobody from the Federation who can tell us anything"

So this made the population of the planet about 134,000 which is good, the planet is due for sustainable terraformation in 7 months...it had taken allot of Scientist to come up with this technology.

"So what of the Romulan Empire?"

"Romulan Empire no longer exist sir, they are fragmented and so few in number...Romulus was destroyed and all that is left of the Empire is a few starships and small colonies which were lucky enough to avoid Borg notice"

Well that is alright news, with the Romulan Empire totally collapsed that meant the Confederacy was under no threat of there invasion... Devenis was only a few light years from the neutral zone and I can bet that they would love the idea of picking at what is left of the Federation.

Perius already knew what had happened to the Klingon Empire since during the war we both worked hand in hand with fighting the Borg, in honour of the alliance againts the Dominion.

"il meet you on the surface Captain Fisher" Fisher was Jessica's last name and Krusi being Perius's.

Perius was pretty much the De-Facto Admiral of the fleet, which was only 7 ships with a mix of different shuttles and other small craft. in all there was 45 ships in the Confederate Military but only 7 were really worthy of being taken seriously.

"They are far braver than they have any right to be," said Falsus.

"Far more foolish is more likely," Ver replied. "Boarding a sleepwalker ship? Trying to salvage it? We scarcely do such things ourselves--and we have intimate knowledge of the technology."

"Idiots or geniuses, we must aid them," Boutrus said. "A cube ship is simply too dangerous for them to be in without our help. They could start another sleepwalker collective, and this would threaten us as well as them."

Ver laughed. "Have you been studying their communications?" he asked. "One of them opened fire on a dead husk--with projectile weapons. What do you think they'll do if we just appear, dancing on their doorstep?"

"True," Falsus said. "They'd try to kill us if we approached them. We will need to be stealthy in order to avoid conflict with them. I recommend Prophet's Hope for the job. She's got a functional cloaking device. She should be able to get close enough to monitor the derelict without drawing any unwanted attention."

"In the meantime," Borus said, "we can also pursue diplomacy. We can contact them from a distance and try to assure them that we mean no harm."

"I don't know about that," Ver said. "They might track our signal and attack."

"That would be foolish," Falsus said. "Even our small and aging fleet should be more than a match for the few ships that they've got. We should be able to defend ourselves."

"It's not the initial fleet that worries me," Ver replied. "We have no idea what kind of reinforcements they can call for."

"Agreed," Falsus replied, "but this situation seems remote compared to the more immediate threat potential of active sleepwalkers. And, of course, there is always something to be said of the potential to add another ship to our fleet. If they call for reinforcements, we can always leave."

"I hope you're right," Ver said, "for all of our sakes."

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

As the Old Borg cube ship that had been rechristened Prophet's Hope sped under cloak to the little starship graveyard, Hollow World sent a message to the brave men and women who were attempting to salvage it.


Attention captain and crew of USS Zophia. We are the New Borg.
We have awakened from the zombie sleep of the collective. Our intent
is NOT hostile--repeat, we are NOT hostile. We have discovered that
you are attempting to board a sleepwalker cube ship. There is
significant danger that, because of this, you may accidentally become
enmired in a sleepwalker collective. This would threaten us as well as
you. We request your permission to aid you in the cube ship's recovery.

Command and control
“Skipper incoming transmission” Officer Gains spoke from the communications and operations station in the rear behind the Captains chair; forcing Doyle to swivel to look at him. “From Fleet Command?” she asked as he shook his head. “Source unknown; Audio only” he replied.

“Lets hear it; put it on main speaker Officer Gains”

“Aye Skipper” he said tapping a few buttons; moments later the digital but somehow more ‘organic’ voice came over the speakers stating its intentions. Doyle inwardly cringed in was the moment of this entire expedition she had been dreading; and so soon too. “Damn” she thought.

“Ideas Gentlemen?” she said to the command staff.

“New Borg?” Shepherd spoke up a little dubious. “Sounds off to me and what the heck is that stuff about sleep walkers”

“I suppose its better than Resistance is futile” Frakes chimed in. “Recommend we reply on the same frequency skipper and we put ourselves between that cube out there and whatever comes to greet us just, in case; we have to defend this wreck to get out people off” Frakes added.

“Agreed. Set Condition 2 ship wide, Navigation put us beside the wreckage; in a broadside position; Tactical I want all batteries on standby at a moments notice; seal all doorways compartmentalise the ship; two guards at all times. No one stays alone.” Doyle ordered.

“Aye Skipper” the two officers chimed off and started to carry out their orders as the Zophia moved into a flanking position with its broadside to the cube.

“Communication; start tracking that signal I want to know who’s talking to us and from where and how” Doyle ordered; “Then Direct this reply on the same subspace band”

This is the HMS Zophia; not USS. This is not a federation ship and we don’t play by federation rules. If you have no hostile intent then show yourselves; any negotiations will be on our terms. But if you screw us know that we can hurt you”

Doyle nodded; it was not an empty threat either; she was sitting on 5000 Photon Torpedoes and several hundred Multi Calibre Rail Batteries, which would do significant damage to the Borg. One on one they had enough firepower to go toe to toe with a cube and any Borg Sensor worth its salt would confirm this. Doyle hated the Borg she had lost her sisters Jennifer and Samantha in the war to assimilation she had joined the Royal navy to avenger them. But she wasn’t going to let her personal hatred get in the way of her professional judgement. Any CO knows that you have to put the ship and the crew above your personal problems or you won’t be CO very long.

"Come about, zero three two mark one four zero," Falsus sent through the collective. "All ahead flank speed."

"But that will put them directly between us and the derelict cube ship!" exclaimed Bortu from his place as head of security.

"Precisely. If they think that we've tried to outflank them, they'll open fire the moment we decloak."

"You're not seriously considering giving them a free shot, are you?"

"Yes. Trust has to start somewhere. Now! Lower cloak! Raise shields! All stop!"

Prophet's Hope decloaked off of Zophia's starboard side.


New Borg to HMS Zophia:

We understand your message.

As a gesture of good faith, we shall comply with your wishes.
The ship before you is BCS Prophet's Hope. Further
communications will be sent to you from her Chief Command
Officer, Falsus.


An image was sent with the next message. It showed a small man whose body was covered with Borg Implants. The usual cords were missing, however, concealed under a skullcap that covered virtually all of his head. He also had no eyes--instead, both of his eye sockets were covered with occular implants. It looked a little bit like he was wearing goggles. He had a thin face and seemed to hold a naturally dour expression, as if he had lived a traumatic life. The man spoke, with a voice that wasn't so much deep as sharp, and seemed to garner a great deal of respect despite its lack of what one might call a lack of an announcer's timbre.


We send greetings. May I be so bold as to inquire as to the
name and rank designation of my opposite number, for lack
of a better term?

Perius and a small team of 3 security officers teleport to the only settlement outside the Bio-Dome, it was a old Federation research station being used by the Confederacy as a Survey Centre.

"So what is it you want Jessica?"

"Not what I want, it is what John wants.....He has given us orders to try and extend the borders of the Confederacy, we are heading to the Regulas System...It has a old Federation colony that might be some use to us"

Perius sighs "What is my reward for this?"

"You will be given back the Revelation" Jessica smiles, she was no fan of the Confederacy...but like Perius he knew how well John can manipulate...Only reason she is still here is because there was nowhere else to go and she was a coward at the last battle, she 'forgot' her orders to engage the Borg Fleet at Earth, But you can tell my the sad look of her face she regrets it every day since.

She continues "Also is the weapon working?"

The new ship was outfitted with stolen Klingon and Borg technology, It has Klingon cloaking and a very power Borg technology that allows the shields to take allot more damage then normal and modified Nano-Probs allow the ship to repair...tho at a very slow rate.

The weapon mentioned was in a fifth torpedo tube, these torpedo's used the ships scanners to adapt and fire to bypass most shielding. We are also capable of Transwarp but it is so unrealiable we just use standard Warpspeed.

"Tell the people here to give us what they can spare in weapons, we might need them...with all we know it's crawling with Borg"

and there it was, Perius's first far-reaching mission in years.

An away team, along with Captain Karrigan, descends down for the surface of Centauri IV to find any survivors and to see a closer look of the planet's fate. While on USS Omega, which is orbiting the planet, the young Commander Dawson is in command of the ship. She was asked to stand by for any transmission either from the planet or from space. They were the only Federation ship in the system, and the other Federation ships in the system is either destroyed or in pieces. Contact with other vessels is one of their main goals right now.


Centauri IV (aka Velestus)

The shuttle enters through the atmosphere of the planet only to see that its cities destroyed. There were life signs, though very few, on the surface from previous scans. As the shuttle flies over destroyed infrastructures and other sites, the away team headed for the nearest sign of survivors.

"Captain, we are nearing the mark," says the helm.
"What's our ETA?" Captain Karrigan asked.
"In exactly 60 seconds."
"Very well...continue scans of the surrounding area just in case."

Captain Karrigan had brought 10 crew members with him including the helm. While most of them were security, both science and medical officers were also on board. In they do find the survivors, a great accomplishment will be done by the team.

"Captain, we arrived at the mark."
"Good work, take us to the ground."
"Aye Captain."

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

(OOC: more to come:) )

Chief Nisora responded with her usual professionalism.

"There's four Cap. ships, though two are cripples and three are obselete. There's the Admiral's Scimitar Class, which is one of the spinal mount disruptor line. Unfortunately, its warp drive is useless. I'd need a full fleet yard to get it running again in a reasonable time frame. Two are D'dredex Class Warbirds from before the Dominion War, though one is missing the top third of its hull. Its a miracle that it never suffered loss of anti-matter containment. Its lost both impulse and warp: that ship will never fly again. The last is a Valdore Class, which is the most intact of the lot. It and the second D'dredex were able to pull the other two in on tractor beams."

"What about the lighter ships?"

"A couple old Klingon ships which the Klingons themselves had discontinued before the war." The disgust was clear in Nisora's voice. "There's also a couple of Twenty-third Century Warbirds, and four transports, one civilian grade. I'd heard they were redeploying training ships, but I didn't really believe it was this bad." With that the Chief fell silent, as if staring inwardly at something only she could see.

Vranik understood. He had met Nisora twice before the war's end, but even he could see how much time had changed her. She had lost all that was left of her family on Romulus. Fortunately for Vranik, most of his family had been in system, but he had lost a sister, uncle, and a nephew before it was done.

"Have you checked the ship personel lists, Chief? Perhaps..."

"My family is dead, Sir." There was no anger in Nisora's voice, only tiredness. "Besides, none of my family served in Tomall's fleet."

Vranik sighed. He regretted bringing it up, and he understood the desire to avoid false hope, but he nonetheless made a mental note to check the fleet records himself. It was a unlikely of course, but he could not ignore the possibility. In the meantime, however, there was business to be done. For his part, he thought it just as well that the Admiral's flag ship could not leave the system. It might keep him close, where Vranik would have an eye on him. And he was already seeing how the rest of the fleet could fit in to his plans. If only he could convince Tomall.

(OOC: next couple posts will see the Romulans entering Galactic affairs. Sorry its taken me so long to establish back story, but I'm ready to take a more active part in the role-play now).

CIC
The Lights dipped to red automatically as the Zophia’s sensors detected the opposing cube de-cloaking. “Captain; Contact; Toaster ship at Severn, Nine, Six, Three starboard” Shepherd reported. He hadn’t actually expected the Borg to Comply; Toaster being a ‘racial slur’ to describe the Borg as glorified toasters. Doyle straightened her crimson red command Tunic.

“Should I target main Batteries captain?” Shepherd asked.

“Negative” she ordered pushing every urge in her body down to the pit of her stomach. “The Fact they’re complying so far may give credence to this whole ‘new Borg’ thing.” She thought carefully about what to do next; this was going to be one heck of a communication. Doyle stood up and walked to the centre of the command deck just behind Navigation.

“Forward transmission to the main viewer” she ordered; a second later the holographic viewer appeared just ahead of her showing her opposite on the Borg cube; one of the more advanced pieces of technology on the Zophia.

“I am Captain Elizabeth Doyle, of the Royal Navy Battle-Star Zohpia” she replied. “And you are Falsus I take it...what do you want?” she tried to think of a better greeting but failed; it was taking all her self control not to yell open fire but her tone carried far more respect than she thought the toaster deserved.

Borg Cube
The Engineering team had moved deeper into the cubes bowls; the first living independent humans to see this far into a Borg cube of there own will; they had found what looked like a working console. Sam worked with a flat-screen computer unit to try and interface with the Borg Computer. “Come on baby…come on, that’s it. I’m your daddy…now just turn around and slip down you’re…”

“Do you have to do that?” spoke one of the female Marines with her rifle shouldered ready to fire at any Borg that so happened to try and piss her off.

“Sorry… makes things go faster” Sam replied with a smirk as the handheld unit started downloading. "I am inside and fiddlering her good baby!"

Federation Ship
“This is…so going to give me nightmares” Kendrick’s spoke aloud as the body of some blue alien with a silver breathing rig floated by as they entered Sick bay’ the lights were still flickering since no one had restored full power yet. The movement inside the room triggered an EMH Mark 1, which projected into life sporadically at first then solidified as the Engineering team restored auxiliary power.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency” He asked the group of large, heavily armed and armoured marines. “Who the hell are you?”

Perius, Jessica, Cameron sit around the table in the conference room. Talking about what has to be done.

"Regulus will be a interesting place, it is pretty much a part of Vulcan space so this might give us the information we want" Perius naturally said this, looking for any sign of what came of the Federation was on his mind all the time.

Jessica replied "The idea is to secure the system, hopfully we might find a few federation ships to salvage and take back to Devenis. If we can get the fleet up in numbers John will allow us to move further out"

"So this is more of a salvage operation?" Cameron said, somewhat bitter. Perius felt sorry for Cameron, He was the captain of the USS Victoria but dismissed by John when he attempted too run away back to Earth instead of following orders. Victoria was now under the control of a local Devenis officer..much to Cameron's bitterness.

But he was a dam good weapons officer, I had seen him in combat both in space and on the ground and I have never seen anybody fight like that.
He fought with me on several engagement, but was busy escorting people out of the system during the last fight....Good thing since even under his command a Sabre Class stood no chance.

"Yes, but where there is Vulcans there is Science equipment and possibly medicine so we cannot skip a chance. This place can possibly supply us with the resources we need to survive." Jessica explained.

We continued towards Regulus, awaiting the unknown.

"Yes, Captain Doyle," the Borg said, a slight grin crossing his lips, "I am Falsus of Borg. Simply put, we want to work with you in this salvage operation. We're a break-away group. It should come as no surprise to you that, like yourselves, we're not exactly swimming in resources. We'd like a share in the materials. In return, we can help you to keep safe. For example, please tell the gentlemen who is currently attempting to toy with the Main Security Console of a sleepwalker cube ship that under no circumstances should he allow his finger to touch the blue square in the upper right corner of the screen. This will activate an anti-intruder protocol and cause dead Borg bodies to conduct a sweep of the hallways in his vacinity. If that happens, we will be forced to intervene and enter the cube ship with or without your permission, in an attempt to contain the potential sleepwalker infestation before it can spread. Our weapons will remain powered down."

Admiral Tomall followed Governor Vranik and Chief Nisora through the dimly lit basement of the Planetary Defense HQ. Rounding another corner, the group aproached a tall metal door bracketed by force-field generators. As they walked closer, motion sensors detected their aproach and eight holographic security officers appeared around them, leveling photonic disruptor rifles. The lead hologram strode forward and adressed the group with a clear, clipped precision no organic could have achieved.

"Names and Identifications?"

"I am Governor Vranik, this is Admiral Tomall, and this is Chief Nisora. Are identification numbers are 11793, 24606, and 339333."

"Procede to the retinal and DNA scanners."

The group advanced to the scanners and ten seconds later the force fields dropped, the doors slid open, and they were standing in a cool, dark room of inestimable size. There footsteps echoed throughout, raising a thin film of dust.

"Lights!," said Vranik.

Blinking and shielding his eyes, Tomall stared at the rows of metal crates lining the chamber.

"Governor, may I ask what is in these boxes?," he asked with just a hint of sarcasm.

Vranik smiled.

"A few days after Romulus fell, we received a shipment of torpedoes intended for the front lines. some we gave to ships that sought resupply, but when all communications failed we moved the remaining ordinance into storage."

"And how many remian?"

"Nearly 5ooo"

"What types of torpedos, and in what quantity?"

"Mostly standard torpedos, but we have nearly 100 transphasic torpedos, and over 200 tri-cobalts."

Tomall nodded. It was an impressive arsenal, but it did not escape him that it was one more card in Vranik's hand. Still, his ships would welcome the resupply. Three years of pirating and scavenging mostly second or third-rate equipment had left his fleet badly under-gunned. And he still had one way to level the playing field again. But that could wait till they were seated before Vranik's full counsel, where the political ramifications would be greater. For now they could discuss the torpedos.

"Impressive Governor. Do you have any trilithium weapons?" Vranik paused and gave him a cool look. Nisora's gaze was openly hostile. Vranik's voice, when he answered, was matter-of-fact.

"The convoy that delivered these was tasked to carry fleet ordinance only, not strategic weapons. Personally, I think its just as well. I would be more at peace to know that the weapon which killed Romulus has likewise been wiped from the Universe."

Tomall bristled. To lecture him, the nieve, self-righteous fool. But it would not do to show his anger; not now, not yet. Still, he could not simply let the insult pass.

"The Borg killed Romulus, Governor. It was already dead. What we exterminated was just another Borg world."

"Perhaps. But now it is time to look to the future. Come with me, Admiral. Chief. It is time we discussed certain matters before the Council. Your fleet will soon be ready, and when it is, we must move swiftly."

OOC: Lol, the ESUS did the polar opposite of this RP not long ago. xD






Comedy.

(OOC: was there a reason why you could not post that utterly irrelevant comment in the OOC thread?)

(Sorry, should have posted that as The Romulan Republic.)

After the Dominion War the Klingon Empire struggled to maintain its power in the quadrant. Many of its shipyards and starbases had been destroyed, and its population took the brunt of the war. It had been said that the Federation helped patrol some of the Klingon territories, but that was speculation. By the time of the war the Klingon Empire had finially stablized, but only to head into a new conflict with the Borg. Like all the galactic wars fought by the Klingons they always threw themselves at the enemy seemly out thinking. Along with this, the Empire again in the beginning took the most casulties. The Borg after the defeat of the Federation Fleet at Earth came after Qro'noS much of the Klingon Fleet was old battlecruisers like the K'tang, and the K-5s manned by female warriors. The battle ended like most in the war with the defeat of the defender and the assimilation of the people. Though yet intact much of the population went on to fight in the last days of the war leaving Qro'noS uninhabited.

-----------------
General Sa'tak stood on the bridge of the once powerful Neg'Var battlecruiser Emperor's Gloryonly to despise it. Once a bastion of power now stripped to provide parts for the smaller Vor'cha battlecruiser and the several Birds of Prey in the fleet. They had been lucky to pull together enough parts for a Federation Defiant-class and a Sabre-class, but the total fleet size was at fifteen. Now the Emperor's Glory was used as a moble supply base for raids on planets and known battle wrecks. The Vor'cha only saw combat when needing extra fire-power on some of the smaller races who had gained some strength by their own pillaging. But most of the combat was seen by the Birds of Pray. "Get me off this tub and onto my ship", he said leaving the bridge. None of the ships had transporter technology since the war. Most of the parts had been damaged or destroyed, so all transfers were by shuttle or docking.

On board Death's Mercy Sa'tak ordered the fleet to set course for Romulan space. They had to have supplies since they were always the last into a fight.

We arrived in the Regulus System without much trouble, but it was what we found that was troubling.

"Captain, scans show multiply Federation and Borg debris in the system" said the Science Officer, tinkering at his gadgets.

he adds "Captain, I can detect Lifeforms on the C Class planet but very few"

Perius smiles at the news, possible Vulcans would be a great find.

"Cameron, take a away team to the surface. We are going to have to search the ghosts ships to look for resources" The Confederacy had to salvage things like Transwarp drives and other bits of Borg technology in order to Contruct ships like this one, Confederate Shipwright Policy is that every ship to be built to capable of handling situations by itself so it did not need a huge amount of manpower to run the Fleet.

-----Planets Surface------

In a flashes of blue light a team of 6 Officer warp to the surface.

Cameron was quick to give orders "stick together, with all we know the life signitures are Borg Drones. Our mission is to make contact with the settlers and make a agreement for them to join the Confederacy"

The Federation outpost as it looks like was completely empty by the looks of it, that was until a Vulcan decided to appear from a building.

"I am Commander Cook of the CSS Fist, tell me what happened here" hopfully the Vulcan was in a shape to respond.

The Vulcan walked up until he was only 10 meters away from the team.

"I am Solan, it has been a long time since I have seen anybody in that uniform" naturally he was referring to the federation issue uniforms we all were wearing, Confederacy did have the money to fund a whole new Uniform and we were all Ex-Federation officers anyway.

"Tell me, what has happened here?"

"The Borg came, 1 Tactical Cube, 2 Standard Cubes and 6 Spheres. Starfleet engaged them with a fleet of 30 ships but the battle was lost, The last borg ship beamed thosands from the surface and only hundreds were left. tell me why are you here?"

"We are sent by the Confederation of Pheni in search of survivors, we are a alliance of Ex-Federation colonies trying to survive the current events that had lead to the collapse of the Federation and many of the other nations in Quadrant"

"All we have is 20,000 people which are mostly Vulcans and Andorians, most of us are survived by sheltering with what was left of the Federation garrison when the borg sent thosands of drones to steamrole over the outpost"

"Take us to where you guys are staying, we must talk to you. with such few people we might have to take you back with us"

-----Wreackage of a Borg Cube-------
A Large Shuttle lands in what Perius thinks is a assimilation Hanger, where the Cube would pickup smaller ships and put them aboard.

They had luckily been able to teleport most of the components in the other wreckages out thanks to the improved sensors of the FIST, But the cube was way too large for that to be possible so it had to be taken out manually.

25 heavily armed officers walk off the Shuttle and into groups of 5. Each with 2 security, 2 Engineers and 1 Medical.

Perius walked out and started to talk.

"We need to be quick people, we all remember what happened with the Sphere we boarded last time and the ship went into a Defence-Protocol. We lost the entire team of 15 people that day and we cannot afford a repeat"

The teams start talking about where they were heading and perius heads towards his own, taking out a Datapad with a map of what they cant tell about the layout.

"We are heading towards this sector, by what we can tell it might have a few energy cells. If we find all the energy cells on the cube we will have enough to keep our ship going for 7 months so lets get moving".

Meanwhile on the outside the Siren was sending out teams to board the few operating Federation ships and either salvage what they can or in the better light make basic repairs to the Warp Drives and get them back too Devenis for repairs.

----CSS Siren----

Jessica was quick, they had managed to find 4 vessels capable of repairs that would allow them to go back to Devenis and the rest are being stripped of things like Weapons and food supplies.

They also found a old Galaxy Class vessel, incapable of being repaired but Jessica could not let it go to waste. They did have a Borg Tractor Beam installed but they did not know how stable it would be during warp.

"Whats the news James?" she said to her Science officer.

"If we went warp 2 we might be able to stablise the ship to pull it back to Devenis, but in turn it will take us a few days to reach Devenis and we do have a time limit for this operation"

"A Galaxy class ship cannot be ignored, if we can get this ship operational the Confederacy will have another little piece of Backbone"

Current they were repairing a Nova, Miranda and 2 Defiant class ships if they could pull this off the Fleet would also be double it's size in large Starships.

CIC, Zophia
Doyle shuddered inwardly; the damn toaster was grinning at her; it was the oddest sense of irony she could imagine; part of its teeth were missing and its eyes obviously were gone replaced by cyber implants that looked like goggles but there it was grinning at her like an idiot. Of All the things she had been told and read about the Borg in the Naval Academy –Grinning Borg- was not one of them. She gave a quick nod to Shepherd to send the warning to the marine team on the cube and updating them on the situation. Doyle turned and walked back to her command chair and sat down and appeared to be in deep thought.

“Alright let’s talk turkey” she said surprising her XO; “Your Rebels; your on the run for all intense and purposes in a galaxy that hates your guts and are more likely to blow you out of the sky on sight than talk to you. You want the ship am I right?” Doyle asked but didn’t really pause.

“You can have the hull once we’re done with it and I give you my word it will be left in a state of repair still useful to you. However we want something in return; first we want the Borg Technology Library Database. We also want Regeneration units, Power Couplings, Shield units, Weapon Systems, Torpedoes, Transporters, Trans warp Coils and a power core, We want instructions on how to use Borg Technology to improve our own, and we want Nanomachine construction technology for ship building and repair” Doyle listed her demands. “Give us what we want and you get free reign of the ship to assess its use to you and my people will help you restore it with your instruction. Those are our terms” Doyle stated; in a tone of voice that said there was no room for negotiation.

“One more thing Falsus, what is this sleep walker thing you keep talking about?” she asked more curious than anything else

Federation Ship, Sickbay
“Who the Hell are you?” The EMH asked incredulously

“Alexandra Kendricks, Royal Navy Marines”; Kendricks replied “Who the hell are you?” she said; her weapon still levelled at the EMH along with several of her fellow Marines behind her.

“I’m the Emergency Medical Hologram” The Doctor replied simply; “Where is the ships crew?” he asked.

“Dead” Kendricks didn’t see a point in sugar coating the news to a hologram; but had second thoughts when he visibly displayed a dismayed facial expression.

“How?” the EMH asked.

“Borg” she said; in a less harsh tone than before; “I don’t know if it really makes you feel better but they put up a hell of a fight; took out a cube by the looks of it” she said lowering her weapon to its ‘ease’ position.

“Well…at least they remembered to turn me off” the EMH said trying to make light of the situation; though in all likelihood the power simply went down; “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Come with us if you want; at the moment we’re assessing the ship to see how much can be salvaged; if she can’t be salvaged though we can just strip her for parts; set up some Holographic emitters and you can come with us” She said.

Falsus turned serious. "You can't be serious," he said. "You want all of our technology, enough spare parts to build something that could threaten our entire populace and our blessings, all in return for the hollowed-out hull of one ship that's already been damaged in battle?"

"We can play that game, too." The Borg's smile deepened, became slightly haughty. "We'll give you technical advisors who'll help you salvage the ship. In return, we want her hull and enough parts to get it running under its own power. We don't care if these are scavanged from the rest of the junk in this sector. That, or you can take your chances inside that thing. Maybe we'll just let you throw the wrong switch next time and wait until they absorb your away team and board your ship before we step in. Have you ever stared down a set of absorption tubules, Doyle? I have."

"What are you doing, Falsus?" Ver asked over the collective--where Doyle could not hera. "Can we really afford to antagonize them?"

Bortu's chuckle echoed throughout the collective. It was he who answered. "He's negotiating, Ver--and doing a good job of it, too! She made a ridiculous offer, and hinted that they hold some big cards. He replied in kind--he made an equally ridiculous offer, and, though he didn't threaten them directly, he pointed out that we still hold a few cards that they'd like to have. Could've used a little more pinache, though, and given those p'tach something to really think about! And, best of all, he's making it personal. Look at the way she looks at him! It's not everybody who fears the Borg, it's her!" At his post within the bowels of Prophet's Hope, Bortu's big Klingon body let out a belly laugh.

"Remind me never to play poker with you, Bortu," Falsus sent.

"Why?" Bortu replied. "I like winning."

"So what happens now?" Ver's voice came through.

"They make another offer," Falsus replied silently, "or they stop playing games and get serious."

The council chamber Vranink entered had once been simply a smallish round enterance hall in the local Civil Service HQ. Now it was lined with seats around the walls, with guards flanking each door and a large holoemmiter rigged up in the centre under the dome. Vranik introduced Tomall to those he had not yet met. To the left of the North Enterance, there were two tall dour men in grey suit: who ran the Civil Service and Planetary Security, respectively. There was also a sharp-faced woman with a hard gaze who identified herself as Commander Kriel, the commander of the system defense forces. Having finished the introductions, Vranik gestured to Nisora, Tomall, and the Admiral's aid to take a seat. Then he took a deep breath: it was time to reveal his plans for Tomall's fleet, and hope that the Council and Tomall would go along with it.

"Very well, now that we're all here, we have a few things to discuss. As you are all aware, we have been blessed with the good fortune to make contact with a Romulan fleet under Admiral Tomall. However, the threat is far from over. This region of space is wild; I have already been notified by Admiral Tomall of the actions of pirates in this area. There is no order, all the major powers with which we are familiar are crippled or dead. But times of chaos are also times of oportunity. If we expand quickly, we can gain a possision of dominance over the other factions in this quadrent."

Comander Kriel broke in, her voice layered with skeptisism.

"Can we afford getting into conflicts with other systems? Our defenses are still tenuous. Besides, a Planetary Governor can not engage in acts of war on their own initiative."

"I am well aware of the limitations on my power, Commander. However, all evidence indicates that the Romulan Empire no longer exists, and in the absence of the Praetor's authority, a Plannetary Governor has the right to act on his own authority in defense of Romulan interests. As to your other point, we cannot afford to sit here until our enemies come for us. The Romulans have been insular to long. If you want the resource to defend this system, you must follow my course of action." Sudenly Tomall broke in. His slight smirk told Vranik that he had something to his advantage. He was not disapointed.

"Actually, our reasource are somewhat greater than you know. Some time ago, one of my vessels made a discovery while scouting for wrecks to scavenge. It was a Borg Transwarp Hub."

Vranik was stunned. Tomall had just undercut his advantage gained by the pressence of the torpedo stocks. Still, it changed nothing. It might even be advantageous, if dangerous.

"Is it secure? We cannot risk Borg remnants using it against us."

"I left one ship to guard it, cloaked. It reports in every two hours. It has orders to destroy the hub if anyone activates it with out my consent."

Vranik nodded. It was good news. The hub would allow them to move fleet assets quickly, which would help counter there shortage of ships. It was also puzzling. Why would the Borg need to project a conduit from, rather than to, this area of space. But that could be determined later.

"Very well, Vranik said aloud. "Thanks to Admiral Tomall's fleet and our own personel, we have a strong fleet, a secure base, and the means to transport our assets anywhere we choose. Expanding may be risky, but nothing great is acomplished without risk. If we move quickly, we have a chance to rebuild our civilization, perhaps greater than before. History seldom gives second chances. Now what say you?"

There was a short pause. Then, one by one, every hand rose in assent. Even as triumph, relief, and renewed anxiety flooded through him, Vranik locked eyes with Tomall. Today they were united, but the Admiral's smile said that there struggle was far from over.

Doyle narrowed her eyes; Falsus ridiculous offer had riled her up; Doyle had many feelings about the Borg. Fear however wasn’t one of them. She thought of her sisters; and of the crew and there families, everyone on the Zohpia had lost at least someone they knew to the Borg, friends, Family, lovers. Doyle was back; the shell shocked little girl that had been taken by surprise in this encounter was gone; returned back into the neither parts of her mind; now replaced by the cool; hard commander. Falsus’ thinly valid threat had just snapped her back to reality and if he wasn’t careful could lead to the worst nightmare he could imagine. She typed on her touch pad computer built into the armrest, which sent a 28th Dimensional Fractal Encrypted message to the boarding team on the cube to haul it back to the shuttles with whatever they could carry. Animarnian Computers were extremely advanced; one of the few things to survive the war.

“Mr Falsus” she said her voice clear and commanding; the change in tone and body language should read crystal clear. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression this is a negotiation and take us for fools” she said,

“We know a thing or two about Borg Technology; We know that as soon as we get main power back online the ship will pretty much repair itself thanks to its automated regeneration units. In fact it was one of the main things we learnt in the war that to effectively destroy a Borg ship; you have to effectively overwhelm its armour and ability to Regenerate” She said confidently. “You may notice in fact that our ship uses solid Heavy Neutronium rounds instead of Energy Weapons; these are fired at subliminal speeds approaching that of light. Now for those of us in the audience who never paid attention in physics class a tin of tomatoes fired at near light speed can put a decent sized crater in a moon. Now threaten my people again Mr Falsus and you will have a very clear image of what they can do to your ship”, Doyle Spoke in crystal clarity.

“Now; we can sit and polish our guns some more or we can do business; we want the technology; you want the ship. If you as me we’re being generous. The metal alone in that thing could build us three or four more ships” Doyle spoke not changing her demands; Doyle was about to find out just how much The New Borg really wanted this cube. "you want us to trust you; then you have to trust us"

Enough resources to power up the Borg components of the FIST would be great, We have not yet found a way to fully implement Borg and Federation technology together safely so this was the only way to use things like Transwarp and the Borg weapons on the Starship.

"stay close Ensign" PErius whispered as a wandering off Officer comes back to the group, the Engineer was unpluging a Transwarp Coil which is the 4th we have found so far.

He removed the last wire and placed a small metal translocator on the device teleporting it back to the FIST, It was slow work most of the time these operations went for atleast 4-5 days we make camp on the cube like we were in a warzone.

The dead borg drones did not help the situation, sometimes you look at there faces and swear they were just waiting for the moment to attack.

Perius presses his badge and starts to talk.

"What resources has everybody else found? we are reporting in 4 Transwarp Coils plus 85 Power Cells"

Group one reported in "56 Power cells and 7 Transwarp Coils"

the rest was the same until we reached group 5

"Group 5 report in" Perius presses twice, in desperate hope

"Group 5 REPORT!" last report he heard was they were heading to one of the assimilation chambers, where the last group was before they got killed.

"Group 5 reporting in sir, sorry but we have found multiple dead bodies plus a Cat sir" when he heard those words he toke a breath of relief.

"Teleport kitty to the ship, I might have some cat food in my quarters" Perius was not being honest, but the idea of a pet cat could not be missed.

after about 2 more hours walking through the ship it was obvious there was no more that could be found.

"Everyone back to the shuttles, good work team 14 hours thats a new record" There actually was a record, it gave people in the Confederacy Fleet something to do when out on these missions. See who could strip a borg ship the fastest, This is how the Confederacy kept it's stolen technology running.

-----Planet Surface, Old Federation Outpost-----

Cameron sat at a small round table, facing 3 others one of them being Solan.

"We are the council of Regulus, this is all that was left of a population of 2 million" Solan was obviously the lowest rank as you can tell by the fact he was first to speak and introduce.

"I am Cameron, Commander of the CSS FIST. We come from the Federation Colony of Devenis, We have come here to add Regulus to the Confederacy. We need your resources of medicine and we also in bad need of Scientist to help push foward the use of foreign technology"

The middle Andorian laughs "Your requests sounds like the Borg, want to add what we have to your own? I dont think so Cameron. Regulus is not interested in joining any nation, We were left for dead by the Federation and what makes you think you cand defend us?"

Cameron had taken great Insult to this, The battle above more then proved the Federation did what they could.

"What makes you think people will ignore this system? you have a old-Vulcan science Insitute and you think if the Romulans or Klingons decide to take over they will just ignore you? People are in more need of Scientist and Doctors then ever in the history of the galaxy, Thats right we NEED YOU!"

The point was more then valid, Devenis was a large mining colony. That gave us raw materials to rebuild but not the people to put in the new Hospitals and other departments.

"If you give us this planet to protect we will send several ships to patrol the system and skilled workers will be sent to rebuild the Outpost, Think about it. Without the Federation we need to band together or face destruction"

The Andorian knew he was speaking the truth, Regulus was a highly sough after system and could not be ignored. But what about the Romulans and Klingons...they were practically destroyed in the war.

"At the end of the day Commander, Regulus is simply trying to avoid being attacked. look around you, this one building holds the total survivors of a entire planet of 2 million! Joining your Confederacy could simply put us in further danger"

"We have ships to protect you with, we might not have the manpower that the federation could put againts a foe but at the end of the day you dont even have a shuttle or phaser, A person could come here with 40 armed men and take over this entire planet. I could simply order my men to shoot you right now but I dont, be resonable and accept that maybe...just MAYBE you need us to survive and protect, You will be allowed to keep control of your planet all we ask is a exchange of resources and workers that will allow us to survive"

The three talk with eachother, in the end the third person..Another Andorian speaks.

"Regulus will join the confederation, aslong as you can repopulate this world with enough people we would be more the happy. We also need raw resources since as you can tell we had to pull other buildings apart to turn this into a safe fortification for us to live"

Cameron hands over a treaty and all three leaders sign, Regulus was now under the rule of the Confederation of Pheni and 120 armed guards were to be deployed for now to act as a Garrison and as a sign of things to come we are giving them raw materials so they can start rebuilding.

"We will be sending several supply convoys over the next few months to bring in Immigrants and Resources, also we will add another 700 men to the local Garrison and a one vessel will be stationed here. We might contruct a small Starport in order to allow easy trade of resources"

They say there goodbyes and thankyou's and Cameron presses his badge.

"Beam us up" and in a dance of blue light, we were gone and 60 Officer beam down and talk about sleeping arrangements.

----CSS Siren----

Everyone was back to there stations and we were getting ready to head back to Devenis, The mission was a total success and the collection of unexpected resources also helped.

The Siren grabs the Galaxy class in a tractor beam and hails the FIST.

"Perius, we need you to help us tow this back to Devenis. This galaxy class will go far to help the strength of the fleet" Jessica was quick to say, the other 4 ships were already making there way back in low warp. Most of them about to fall apart but atleast they could be repaired.

The FIST used it's advanced tractor beam to help drag the Galaxy class ship along, it would make the trip take 3 times longer but it was worth it. Perius enters the codes to connect the warp orders with the FIST with that on the sirens. Even a 2 second delay could tear all three ships apart.

all three ships head off back to Devenis, Perius was simply waiting to get his old ship back.

"Cameron, join me in my quarters" time for a very serious talk

Trelani System, Nearby Former Klingon border

Captain Boyce slowly walked slowly down the corridor. He had a handful of PADD's in his hand and reading while he walked. The reports he was reading was nothing but one problem after another. He was not surprised though. A ship as old as the Wasp was bound to be plagued with problems even if she had gone through some heavy refits right in the middle of the war. God, the war, something that crossed his mind every day. Years of desperation and pain. The last battle, watching all of his friends and family die one after another. It was a miracle that the Wasp survived that battle, a miracle that the Wasp even made it five minutes being an old Constitution class ship, third generation refit, but an old Connie all the same. Ever since then he and his crew had been traveling around what was the Federation trying to piece together the few remaining planets he could find. Pokos was one of them, one of the few planets that the borg failed to notice, or the dogged defense of the system fleet, and the Wasp that held them off and made damn sure none survived.

Boyce strode past a few crew members that were standing near an open doorway and entered the turbolift.

"Bridge" He stated absent minded. Ignoring the lift starting up and heading to the bridge. He strode onto the bridge and took a seat in his chair, still reading the same reports. He didn't even notice his avian Pokosian first officer stride up next to him, resting his feathered hand on the arm of the chair.

"With the way you are reading that one would think that it was some sort of holy document" He chirped.

Joshua Boyce jumped at his friends voice.

"Dear god man!" He shouted in surprise," Damn you Shree, you had to do that"

"Well, you should know Jay. So, what is on the agenda today?" Shree asked.

Boyce sat there for a moment and glanced at the veiwscreen, the conjoined atmosphere of Pokos and it's moon Plaktea glistening, the dual horizons stretching across the screen.

"Well, if the reports are true, there is a few planets that have been clinging onto whatever is left of the Federation, maybe we can find them" Boyce replied.

"Any clue where they are Jay?" Shree asked.

"Not a clue" Boyce sighed discouraged, tossing the PADD's into his lap.

"So the plan is?" Shree asked with what could be a smile, if it wern't for his beak.

"Just get this old tub moving, set up a grid pattern search in sector seven, we havn't been there yet" Boyce stated as he stood up, streching his arms above his head, nearly dropping all of the PADD's that he had been reading on the floor.

"You know, she is a lady and should be treated as such" Shree quipped.

"I know that Shree, just wake me when you find something interesting, I am going to take a well needed nap after the last twenty-four hours of noting but solving problems" Boyce replied with a yawn.

He patted his comrades shoulder as he passed him on his way around the edge of the bridge to the small door that lead to his office. His personal belongings such as his Civil War musket and multiple theater pieces, not to mention his prized copy of the complete works of Shakespeare was not the apple of his eye at the moment. He made a beeline strait for his favorite place, his small couch in which he immediately crumpled upon and drifted off to sleep as the Wasp jumped to warp.

"Oh, boy is she scared," Bortu sent.

"You've antagonized her!" Ver sent. "Can she hurt us?"

"Yes," sent Omigott, the ship's engineer. "Those things will turn us into rigellan cheese in no time flat."

"Rig omniphasic shields in case they power up," Bortu sent. "Charge up the Columnized Electron Cannon."

"Good idea on the shields," Omigott replied, "bad idea on the gun. Ver's right! We don't want to antagonize them any more."

"Concur," sent Falsus. He looked at the screen, and his expression turned icy.

"You are serious," the small Borg said. "Too bad. I was starting to have some respect for you. The only threat I made against you, Doyle," Falsus hissed, "was to withold our aid if your people blundered their way into disaster. You are the only one who has so much as discussed bringing weapons to bear--and, if you wake up that cube ship, you can shoot at us as long as you want, and all it will do is lessen your chances because then we absolutely will not help you. It is your adversary; we are not.

"Your price is too high, Doyle. If our peoples had a history of working together, if we were certain that we could trust you, we would give you that technology, and help you to rebuild--but, as I already told you, we're not going to just hand the means to destroy our civilization to people we know little about for one dilapitated cube ship.

"So let's get to know each other a little better. I think that, once you come to understand that we're not sleepwalkers--the zombie Borg you're used to whose bodies are nothing more than nodes in a collective--that we're individuals just as you are, you won't be quite so distrusting. So let's send a joint team into that cube ship and get her working again. Then, you can have the cube ship. We're more interested in the relationship than we are in the materials."

"Falsus," Bortu shot in, "what are you doing? Do you realize what you're giving up?"

"It's not what we're giving," Falsus replied, "it's whom we're giving it to."

"But, if they got their hands on that ship's data banks--our technology--do you understand the threat that they could be?"

"No one here does," Falsus replied. "Technological specifications are one thing, but the infrastructure to use them is quite another. This will give us a chance to learn about these people, and to erase those data banks if they've turned warlike. Then, they can reverse-engineer anything that they can reverse-engineer. We'll be forging ahead even as they play catch-up. If they're suitable allies, however, then they'll need everything that we have to offer them."

"Ah," Bortu sent. "I did not realize the modesty of this proposal. In a way, it almost makes sense--or, at least, as much as any of your hair-brained schemes make sense."

"Can't be," Falsus sent back. "I'm of Borg. I don't have hair."

The collective shared in the amusement.

“Give us 15 minutes to talk it over with my crew” she said and waving her hand to cut communication. And looked to her command staff.

“Alright, Gentlemen; I won’t make this and order, speak your minds” she said looking at her senior staff; most of which were veterans of the war.

“I don’t like working with that toaster; I don’t trust him” Shepherd was the first to pipe up; “I say we just nuke ‘em and be done with it; then take the derelicts” he added; John had lost his father and brother to Borg assimilation.

“We’re not pirates John; and I hate to admit it but The Toaster has a point; we need them; we know very little about the cube and the last thing we want is to wake that thing up” Doyle countered.

“We could just leave? They’ll be other Borg Ships; Take the Federation hulls; its better than working with them, easy come easy go” Frakes offered in his own opinion on the matter.

Doyle considered her options; “How much stuff did our first team bring back” she asked.

“2 Trans-Warp Coils, 17 Power nodes; about a dozen data nodes and 85% of the Ships Database” Shepherd replied.

“Alright; I want that database guarded around the clock in a secured room not linked to the ships computer just in case our new ‘friends’ try anything”; she ordered; it was a precaution. “How Many of the wrecks here can we re-activate?” she said.

“According to Sensors; 3 Defiant Class, the Intrepid and an Akira Class can be restored to operational status; the rest are too damaged beyond our abilities so it will be easier to strip them for spares and use the hull materiel to build new ships of our own”

She Re-activated the Communications Channel.

“We’re willing to offer a compromise; we want to know how to build Defensive technology like shield generators, Power nodes and Trans-warp coils; we’re also interested in your automated repair systems. This is defensive technology; nothing that can harm you; but will help protect us from other galactic powers. We’re willing to work with you to repair the cube till it’s under its own power the rest of the field is ours however minus parts that we need to get the cube’s main power running”, She said simply.

“there is one more thing we request; if you could provide a crew manifest of the people in your collective movement; many of us lost family, friend, lovers etc in the war and we’d like to know if any of them have survived” She said simply.

(OOC: was there a reason why you could not post that utterly irrelevant comment in the OOC thread?)

(Sorry, should have posted that as The Romulan Republic.)

OOC: Yeah, actually. It wouldn't be worth the effort.

Chief Nisora sat in her quarters aboard the central hub of the shipyard. The reports coming in were good; the Scimitar might not be able to enter warp, but its shields were coming back on line, and its foreward weapons would soon be functioning at 2/3rds capacity. Even better, it might be possible to repair its top-of-the-line cloak, which was virtualy immune to detection. The Valdore was already nearly back up to peak performance, and she expected Vranik to send it out as soon as its escorts and fighters were repaired. She would be going with it personaly as far as the Transwarp hub, since Vranik wanted her to inspect it. She doubted that their was much point, though. Borg tech was not her area of expertise. Nor was she looking forward to boarding even a derelict Borg station. Suddenly she started as her com. station buzzed. She selected the new message, then froze, staring at the screen. For a long moment she gazed in silence at the message, then fell back in her seat with sob.

* * *

Sub-commander Jarrik sat working at his station on the Bridge of the Valdore Class Faded Sun. They were currently in the middle of a series of simulated combat exercises, designed to test the vessel's fitness for long duration scouting missions such as those which, it was rumored, Vranik intended to assighn them to. There had been a lot of grumbling about that, but Jarrik didn't care. He had point-blank refused his week of shoreleave, and would only be taking two days because his commander had ordered it. Work provided an escape from what he had lost. In rest and solitude, he found only despair.

His com badge buzzed, and he responded to find himself talking to the Chief Personal Officer, Sub-commander Vraetor. The older man was a strict officer, but he respected an carred for those under his command, and was the only real friend Jerrik had left.

"Jerrik, I think you'd better get down to transporter room two. There's some one who wants to speak to you."

Two minnutes later Jerrik strode into the transporter room, still wondering what could call him away from his work in the middle of a combat drill. Then he saw who was standing beside the Sub-commander and froze.

Chief Nisora stepped hesitantly forward. Jerrik stood quite still for a minute, then at last he wispered: "Are you real?" She nodded, and the next moment she was in her brother's arms, the brother she had thought had perished at Romulus. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She would never stop greiving for those she had lost, but perhaps she could find some peace in the knowledge that she was no longer alone.

* * *

In the deep void of space floated the vast, spindly ring which formed a Borg Transwarp Hub. Some kilometers away sat the cloaked hull of a refitted Bird-of-Prey, silently keeping station, ready to destroy the Hub before permitting it to fall into enemy hands. Sitting at the Captain's chair on the small, dimly lit bridge, Commander Dasor listened with concern to his tactical officer's report.

"Yes, it apears to be a Klingon warp signature. To register from this distance, it must be a sizeable force."

"That's odd. The Empire has been silent until now. Send off a tight-beam transmission to Admiral Tomall, and request back up forces." Dasor leaned back in his chair and contemplated this peice of news. Klingon incurrsions were hardly good news, but it was better than Borg. On the other hand, it meant that at least some remnant of the Klingon Empire had survived. Dasor suspected that despite all that had been lost, some old rivelries had survived, and that they would soon be reignited.

Captains log:Ever since the last battle of earth I have wondered if we as a people could ever possibly recover from such a strike like that. Now we are out here traveling from star to star, starbase to starbase looking for survivors. The problem is, after watching my family die as the Borg cube scooped up parts of Portland Oregon. My wife, my parents, some of my friends, it is hard to believe that they are all gone. Shree tells me that we are coming up on what seems to be the remains of starbase 157 near the neutral zone, he seems to think that there might be survivors of the borg attack on the area. I hope he is right.


Captain Boyce stood at the back of the bridge, leaning against the rail running around the inner part of the bridge. A cup of coffee steaming in his hand. The screen showed the remains of starbase 157. The charred remains swirling around the central spire.

Memories swirled around in his head. He remembered how this starbase looked at the beginning of the war, it was bustling with ships of ever sort, moving back and forth across the darkness of space. Boyce was part of the relief effort as refugees flocked from the entire area to escape the borg onslaught. From the nearby Klingon Empire, the nearby Federation colonies, everyone flocked here to get away. Now it was a piece of flotsam.

"Anything?" Boyce asked.

There was a brief pause.

"No sir, I am not even picking up a remote sign of life" The sensors officer stated blankly.

"Damn" Boyce muttered.

Boyce took a sip of coffee and walked down to his chair and sat down. He thought for moment about the next course of action and then took another sip of coffee.

"Helm, set course for for starbase 23, make a stop at every system along the way. What ones are those?" Boyce ordered.

"That would be the New Providence colony, and Iota Edrandi" The helmsman responded.

"Good, make a stop at each system, but from what I remember from that part of the war, they were the spots with some of the heaviest fighting" Boyce stated.

Captain's Log: We are heading back to the heart of Confederacy space in order to prepare for our next mission, I can feel that the current worsening of the situation is taking a affect on ex-federation crewmen. They long for Earth , they long for a Federation before the invasion and I have to admit I long for these things too.


---Observation Deck, CSS FIST---

"By what we can tell Captain Krusi, the Federation fleet we found were ships that were simply there to resupply before heading off to the front. The Borg catched them by surprise and the rest is what we saw, the ships held there ground as we can tell by the fact only the Tactical Cube remained" This was from a science officer named Suri, her job was to go through the records and find out what happened.

There was Perius, Jessica, Cameron, Suri and George in the room.

George was incharge of the teams that put the ships warp engines back together, every ship had 6 men on the bridge to run it.

"Those ships will take a month each to repair and upgrade with the needed technology, then we might have enough vessels to secure another system. The Confederation wishes to control"

John had ordered us to meet him at Starbase 343, apparently in the end I was getting the Revelation for a important mission and that was it. The Confederacy was simply becoming a political toy to John and the more he abuses his power the sooner he will have some very angry captains.

Sure he had put friends in control of some of the Federation vessels, but most of the Fleet was still loyal to me and I am the captain of his precious Prototype.

The Mission was to go with 3 other ships to starbase 23, this was of tactical importance due to it's place near the neutral zone.We dont expect it but if there is a Romulan presence they are to be cleared in way for Confederation control. This way we could re-build the station and keep a watch for any Romulan activity, from there we might be sent into the old Romulan Empire but we have been warned that even with Romulus destroyed the Empire might have splinter groups trying to gain power from eachother.

Going with 4 ships should be enough to secure the sector, we had doubled the size of Confederacy space just by taking over Regulus and this would push our borders even further.

Perius then talked "the fleet will consist of the Revelation, Siren, Recon and....the Victoria" he said the last looking at Cameron, the room went silent waiting for a sign of resentment from him.

All he did was cross his arms and shuffle in his chair, Cameron was not made for being a simple officer. He was a natural captain and leader, The idea that he would be nothing but a Weapons officer (and de-facto Commander). In the end the Confederacy was wasiting a precious resource of experiances Captains, without a decent Academy new crewmen were hard to come by and more so the higher ranking staff. Last three years have seen the Confederacy getting more and more desperate to keep it's Officers under it's control.

Cameron was offered a place as a Crewmen trainer at the 'Confederate Academy of Space Exploration' (pretty much a Starfleet Academy) he told them exactly where they could do with the position.

"Everyone leave except Cameron" Perius quickly ordered and so everyone walked out of the room

"I need you to promise to be on your best behavior old friend, we cannot risk getting into trouble with Captain Hunter over this"

" Back when I was in the academy your worth as Captain had to be earned, I will promise to tryand be on my best manners. Dont you see what is happening Perius? we are never going back to Earth at this rate, John is not going to re-join the Federation and offer his little piece of the Quadrant and you should slap yourself for being so stupid. John wants this as his own nation, If you want to go back to Earth then you got to take action and put the Confederation back on the path that we all agreed"

(OOC:Sorry for stealing the Captains Log thing...But that made me realise what I was missing :P)

"We accept your terms," Falsus replied, "though it will be problematic to deliver a complete manifest. Some of our records were lost, and some, like myself, had memory wipes and chose new names. I am Falsus of Borg. I do not know who I was before my absorbtion or where I came from--and, to be fair, building a new life for myself and my New Borg siblings is more important to me than dwelling on a past that, at least for the time being, remains illusive. We'll give you what we have on all the four million or so consciousnesses in our collective. Bear in mind, however, that we do not have resources to provide bodies for all of these consciousnesses, and that some brave volunteers have been placed in cold storage, pending the time when we can fully reincorporate them."

"You should tell them of the advantages of being of Borg," Bortu sent. "Immortality. Extended health and vitality. The security of knowing that you'll never be ignored."

"Speak for yourself," Ver shot back.

"They wouldn't listen," Falsus replied. "Do I hear disrespect for authority, Ver? Guess what--you're leading the Away Team. Now, YOU'RE the authority!"

Ver snickered. "It's about time!" he said.

"And take Kent and Dulcinea along with you! And Omigott has to go. He's our best engineer. Bortu, do you want to keep them out of trouble?"

"I'd rather stay here and keep YOU out of trouble," Bortu replied.

"Alright, who can provide security? Any volunteers?"

A chorus of voices rose from the collective. From these, Falsus was able to find...

"Legion. You'll do nicely. Choose four others to accompany you. Omigott, you do the same."

"As you wish, youngster," Omigott replied, "but, mark my words, you're going to miss me."

"I miss you already," Falsus replied. "I'll send a card and candy."

A sarcastic "awwwwww," coursed through the group. It wasn't long before there were vague promises of flowers, jewlry--even a bikini--making the rounds. Omigott could only laugh along with the rest. He had been tho one who opened his virtual mouth.

"While we're in a giving mood," Falsus broke in again, "do you think we could find the manifesto that our friends-to-be have asked for. That's everyone, now, not just those of us on Prophet's Hope."

"We are working on it," said Vox Populi, the compound individual who ran the New Borg libraries. "Data ready for transmission," Vox added a short time later.

"Would you like to send a representative, Vox?" Falsus asked.

"That would be unwise at this juncture," Vox replied.

"It seems the team is set, then," Falsus said over the collective. Then, he turned back to his viewscreen.

"We are sending the data that you have requested. We may not be able to provide bodies for all of those whose consciousnesses are listed, but we will be able to arrange for communication.

"When and where would you like our teams to meet?"

"One thing is still troubling me, Falsus," Bortu sent.

"What's that?"

"When they started 'polishing their guns,' as they called it, you didn't even speak of our weaponry. Why?"

"For TWO very good reasons. First, they were escalating the conflict. If I had responded to their escalations in kind, it would have only escalated things further."

"Diplomatic. What's the second reason?"

"Information is power. When they told us about their weapons system, we began to adapt immediately. If we are to be enemies, I don't want them to know about our new weapons. Why would we tell them when we could show them?"

Bortu chuckled. "The wisdom of that decision is impressive," he said. "In war and in peace, it is still effective. I must remember this."

"We'll make a ship captain out of you yet," Falsus replied.

"Ohhhh no," Bortu said back, "I would never work a job where I have to ask people to do things."

Tomall strode into Vranik's office and wordlessly handed him the comunication from the transwarp hub. Vranik read it over and then looked at Tomall.

"Unfortunate, Admiral. I had hoped we would have a little more time to put the fleet in order. Still, this only reinforces the point that we must expand quickly. Have you compiled the list of strategicly valuable systems that I requested?"

I don't have it with me, but I can list the key systems easily enough."

"Please."

"The nearest to us is the coloney on Rigal Eight. Its about 40 lightyears out, and it was left more or less intact by the Borg. We passed them on the way here."

"I'm surprised to here that they're still alive. We hadn't heard from them in three years. As it happens, I've already outfitted a transport to relieve them. I suppose you relieved them yourself, in your own way."

Tomall stiffened.

"My fleet needs fuel and food. I took no more than I required."

"Nonetheless, it will make convincing them to trust us more difficult. But what of the other systems?"

"There's a couple of Klingon border worlds which are currently unoccupied. Plus a few colonies on the far side of Romulan space. None are particularily valuable. I feel, Vranik, that you would be misjudging the strategic situation if you attempted to relieve each system imediately. We need to concentrate on recovering starships. There are two major graveyards just across the Neutral Zone. I recomend we sieze them, salvage what we can, and scuttle the rest."

"I understand the need for ships, Admiral. But here me very clearly: I will not ababndon any Romulan to suffer and die alone while we can possibly help them. This point is non-negotiable. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Governor." Tomall paused. "You also said you wished to discuss fleet deployment?"

"Yes, Admiral. This is the plan I intend to pressent to the Council today, but I thought that as Commander of our forces, you should hirst have an opportunity to review it and submit your recommendations. In short, I intend to split the fleet into three groups, each one under the command of one of your Captains, who will accordingly be promoted to the rank of Commandant of the fleet. Logicly, these officers should be the commanders of your capital ships, Captains Zahn, Panak, and Nera. Captain Zahn in particular, I think would welcome a posting which took him out of dry dock, given that he would retain command over his current ship."

Tomall frowned. These promotions were needless, though the formally correct. There primary aim, he suspected, was to turn his officer's loyalty towards Vranik rather than himself. But he could hardly object on those grounds. Nor could he point out that Vranik did not have the authority to issue millitary promotions; he had merely been recomending the promotions, but if he did so in front of the Council, Tomall could hardly refuse with out losing face in fromt of his men. Besides, his officers had more than earned the respect. Reluctantly, and feeling increasingly like he was caught in a vise, Tomall agreed.

"Very good. In that case, their postings are to be as follows: the first fleet, consisting of your command ship, the crippled D'dredex, and the local fighters, as well as two Warbirds or Birds of Prey and three Transports, will remain here as a system defense force. The second fleet will be an expiditionary force, consisting of the Valdore, a small fighter group, three transports, your Bird of Prey at the transwarp hub, and two other Birds of Prey or Warbirds. The third will be a reserve force to supliment the other two as needed, and will consist of the old Klingon cruiser, the second D'dredex, two transports, and another small fighter group. In the short term, it can be deployed over the Neutral Zone for salvage opperations. If you have any recomendations, please raise them now. If not, I request that you draw up recomendations for the alotment of supplies, personel, and officers to each force."

Tomall knew the plan was essentialy sound, making efficient use of their limmited reasources, and he also recognized that it would split up his assets while keeping him stuck in-system under Vranik's eye. Grudgingly, he gave his assent. Their was no point tampering with a sound plan for short-term political gain: his fleet needed to be at its most effective to win the respect needed to redress the ballance between him and Vranik. But he could feel that vice still tightening and it was time he began to break free.

(OOC: Sarcastic Borg! I lolled)

“How about the Assimilation hanger?” Doyle replied; not privy to the Borg’s inner communications; though would most likely have laughed her butt off is she was. She nodded her thanks for the Manifest;

“Trust is earned; not given freely” she said; “Lets hop that this starts building a level of trust between us” she said with a nod as the communication system went dead. She breathed a sigh of relief and offered up several prayers to whatever supreme being was watching over her; that ones of the more interesting things about Animarnian culture; they had gods and rituals for everything; from Zephrit god of Coffee to Slimmer; God of Baseball. Frequently worshiped during games by the losing side.

She had played a very crafty game appearing to be weak at some times and stronger in others in the end they had got what they actually wanted; the shields and power systems the Trans-warp coils was just gravy. She had also appeared to give the Borg an advantage telling the about the weapons. But she never told them everything about the weapons; the fact that every round also cad K-NAQ Core ‘slipped’ her mind. No doubt that if this did turn hostile the Borg would be in for a hell of a surprise though she did miss the Transphasic Seeker drones; though some still existed they were allocated to planetary defence since with the factories gone they couldn’t produce any more. They also had one thing the Borg desperately needed; Bodies well Facsimiles that the Animarnian’s called Gigai un intelligent drones created as soldiers but didn’t do to well in that role; and the brass was always a bit iffy on putting weapons on robots. But having several million waiting bodies would certainly bring something to the table though Doyle was still testing the waters. Like Falsus she wasn’t about to offer several million foot soldiers to a Toaster just yet; and besides that would require notifying command of there encounter something she wasn’t prepared to do yet either.

Still it could be an Interesting Partnership.

“Shepherd; prepare a Marine team; Veterans only; don’t want any Green Horns opening fire by accident” Doyle ordered; and it was a real problem. While a lot of her crew were hardened veterans many of the Marines were Fresh out of Boot since a large part died in the war and a good portion of those that didn’t were on other fleet ships and the home-world. So Shepherd left to organise a team; while it was certain vets would harbour grudges it was better to have them than some Green screw things up by shooting the wrong Borg.

OOC:

So, Annie, you have to write about the issues that I raise, even "off camera" in my posts. Oh, goodie. Heh heh heh. Now I can control your rotten little mind. ;)

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

IC:

"Yes, trust is earned, Doyle," Falsus said. "It works both ways. Our team is beaming into the cube ship's Main Assimilation Bay now.

In a swirl of green, the team appeared. They did not seem like regular Borg, though. Rather, they just stood there and tried to look friendly. Every one of them smiled.

They weren't all what one would expect.

Kent and Dulcinea had few visible Borg implants, and no pallor to their skin. In fact, each was quite ravishing in his or her own way. Kent was tall, muscular and long-lined. He had broad shoulders, a prominent chin, brown eyes and dark hair with a steely sheen to it, straight with a single curl that fell over his forehead. Dulcinea, as the name implied, had a sweet, toothy grin, springing from full lips. She was short but well-proportioned, and her hair, worn shoulder-length, was a light shade of brown, and, when she smiled, with those big, brown eyes looking at someone, it was like the room lights suddenly got a little brighter. Both wore form-fitting, black two-piece garments.

Behind them stood Omigott and Ver. Omigott had been an Andorian, and, at almost seven feet tall, he towered over the rest. Though his hair had fallen away, his antennae still showed through, though one of them was now fitted with a tiny radar emitter. That, and the multipurpose occular implant over his left eye made a sharp contrast to his gentle, age-lined face. A left arm full of gizmos that whirred, blinked and hummed added to the affect. Ver stood, tall and thin, bulbous cranium making him look all the stranger, to his left. He was a former human, and he was all thin arms and legs. Yet, even through his pallor, there was something almost electrical about him. The targeting site on his head moved quickly around the room, taking everything in with startling quickness. The thin, white garment that he wore over his body looked like a cross between a nightshirt and a wizard's robe.

Legion was obviously the heavy hitter of the bunch. He, too, had a target for an eyepiece, but his swung back and forth to track his vision. His cranial implant was more like a helmet with little horns coming out of it--actually, they were small devices--and a space for a pop-down goggle that would protect every exposed surface in an emergency. Likewise, his burly forearms carried what were obviously weapons, and there were strange projections on his broad shoulders--though he was not as tall as some of the others, he was nonetheless quite strongly built. He, too, wore clothes--black leggings with pockets, probably for ammunition.

The other members of the team were less distinctive. None of them had chosen to give up their implants. The security detail had weapons and the engineers had tools, but they all pretty much had the standard Borg implants. Given the nature of their current tasks, this was not surprising.

But, no matter what their differences, each and every one of them smiled.

Captains log: As suspected, New Providence and Iota Edrandis were nothing but ruins. That means one more stop before we head back to our adopted home of the Trelani system. We seem to have picked up what seems to be a distress signal from starbase 23 but then again, it could be a remnant of the war, just one more empty call for help that was never answered. On the request of my first officer Shree, I have set the ship at Yellow alert, even if this is just an echo of the past we are sure as hell not going to get caught with our pants down.

The Wasp jumped out of warp a good distance from the starbase. As before, this one was nearly destroyed. Destroyed ships, Romulan and Federation strewn across the blackness of space. Why was this any different than the other places that he had seen. It was the station itself that took his eye. A large portion of it was still unscathed. Lights burned inside, making him think that maybe there was a chance that there were survivors.

"What are you picking up Jeff?" Boyce asked the science officer.

There was a brief pause before he answered.

"There is heavy damage to the lower sections of the station, the upper sections seem undamaged. There also seems to be some kind of power still flowing through some sections of the station's EPS counduits" He reported.

"Any life?" Boyce asked

"I can't really tell, there is so much radiation coming from some of the damaged ships it is hard for the sensors to punch through. With all of the systems they could of ignored during the refit it had to be the high end sensors" The science officer added.

"That is what they get for not getting the job done, even for a Connie refit mark three" Shree joked.

Boyce thought for a moment.

"Send this message on a repeat loop" Boyce ordered

//To any survivors, this is the United Federation Starship USS Wasp, Registry number NCC 20126 Alpha, please respond......To any...//

Captain's Log: After a stopover at Station 343 we are making our way to Station 23 to secure it under the name of the confederacy, I was on my old Akira class ship now and could not be happier. This was my home during the war and now I was back on my old Captains chair.

We arrived, we activated cloaking when we entered the system to avoid any possible conflict until we understood the situation...then we recieved a message we have been waiting for, for 3 years.


//To any survivors, this is the United Federation Starship USS Wasp, Registry number NCC 20126 Alpha, please respond......To any...//

"Open hail" he said over the cheers of what must of been everyone in the starship.

"This is Captain Perius of the USS Revelation, Registry number NCC 10417. We have come to this system to claim it in the name of the Confederacy, but I must admit we did not expect to see you here"

Cloaking was deactivated to show they were legit, this was great news.

"Please, tell us what has happened in the last 3 years. We have had no contact with Earth since the after the last attack, the Confederation is several old colonies that have banded together in a agreement of Free Trade and Free Immigration" words of hope that deep down Perius knew would most likely be left Unanswered.

The newly-promoted Commador Neera sat in her command chair on the bridge of the D'dredex class cruiser Emerald Fire. Despite her greying hair, she sat stiff backed and proud, her sharp gaze sweeping over her crew at their stations. She had commanded the vessel since its former CO had died in a the aftermath of the last Borg attack. Before that she had been merely a commander of a smaller cruiser tasked with patrolling the Neutral Zone, and had been unlikely to rise much further in the ranks. Now she was captain of the most powerful functioning warship in what appeared to be the last functioning Romulan fleet. Once a dead end, it was no longer beyond possibility that her career would take her as far as the Admiralty. Whatever Vranik said, she knew that the Romulan Empire was dead, and sooner or later, Vranik would realize the need to establish a new and independent government. When that happened, a more formalized military structure would have to emerge, and the salvage or construction of new warships would require promotions for many of the senior officers. On the whole it was justly deserved. Her career might be going better than expected, but with too few men to crew even the hand full of ships they had, many of her staff were overdue for promotion to their own commands. she would miss them, but they had more than earned the honor. They had held together over all the years of war and exile, and they were the best of the best.

In the mean time, though, she had her orders. Tomall had the crew, thanks to the influx of recruits from their new home system. Now he needed ships, and it was her job to get them. Her orders had come in just two days ago, and now it was time to head out. Her fleet was already clear of the space docks, and in less than two minutes they would be enroute to Station 23, just inside old Federation space. Recent scans indicated an abundance of hulls to scavenge, some in fairly good condition. Of course, it was risky. There was significant risk of running into Federation or even Klingon remnants, and she had very strict orders to avoid getting into a conflict. Just then, the all-clear signal came through, and Neera knew it was time to move out. She knew she ought to feel concern, but she felt only excitement. After three years of barely hanging on to life, the Romulan people were ready to reemerge into the Galaxy at large. But first she felt a brief speech was appropriate to commemorate the occasion.

"Commadore Neera to the 2nd fleet. Today, we begin the reclamation of Romulan space. We have many challenges still ahead, but we have seen the darkest night and we have come through it together. There is no force in the Galaxy that can stop us. It is time to show this quadrant that we are back." Smiling slightly at the cheers that broke out over the com(an unusual display of jubilation for a Romulan, much less an officer of the fleet), she turned to the helmsman and gave the order to move out. In moments, two Romulan warships were streaking through the void of space, heading towards the fate that awaited them...

Ten light years away, the 3rd fleet sped through space towards the Transwarp hub deeper in Romulan Space. Watching space streak by his Valdore class command ship, Captain Panak sat grim-faced and silent. He was alone, for the two scout ships assighned to his new command were busy escorting the relief force to the first of many colonies that might have survived the Borg attack and its aftermath. He hoped for the best; they all did. But between the Borg and the raiders, he doubted there would be any one left to rescue. He was glad he wouldn't be there to hear the reports come in negative. Besides, someone with seniority needed to be keeping an eye on Commander Dasor. It had always struck him as a questionable decision to leave the son of the man who had destroyed romulus in charge of guarding such a critical asset, especially if he had inherreted his father's trigger-happy attitude.

USS Wasp, Starbase 23

Captain Boyce sat in his chair, mulling over the reports on the scans of the nearby area. His crew could not have been in a more desperate and depressed mood. He had ordered the message to play over and over again while they were scanning the wreckage. The station turned out to be empty, but salvageable. Boyce pondered whether or not to make a run to Earth, even though he had seen it devastated while his damaged ship floated helpless in orbit.

Memories flashed into his mind. The fleet made a hard stance against the Borg onslaught. The Wasp herself took down three spheres on her own thanks to some quick thinking by her helm officer at the time, Tony Mendoza, which died later in the battle. At the time, the Wasp was the oldest ship in the fleet, being pulled out of mothballs months before, early enough to fight in some of the last battles of the war, but with the refit she was put under she was brought up to speed, technologically speaking.

His thoughts were broken by his sensor officer.

"Sir, I just picked something up, but it dissapeared just as soon as I had it" He shouted.

There was no time to react militarily.

"Shut down the power, make us look dead! Do it now!" Boyce shouted orders.

The power shut off all over the ship, only the necessary systems were left on. The Wasp slowly drifted into the debris field. Boyce knew that this trick was old, and he knew it would only give them time to at least make a hasty escape, only if whomever that had showed up wasn't looking.

On the veiwscreen showed the debris that surrounded the ship, suddenly, what looked like an Arika class ship decloaked way too close for comfort. He could see individual windows and the detail of the hull. Much to close for comfort.

The speakers on the bridge started to blare a garbled message.

"What is it?" Boyce asked his comms officer.

"Message from incoming ship, it is garbled, must be the radiation, I will try to clear it up" He responded.

The garbled message played again, then a bit clearer, then it was clear.

//This is Captain Perius of the USS Revelation, Registry number NCC 10417. We have come to this system to claim it in the name of the Confederacy, but I must admit we did not expect to see you here, Please, tell us what has happened in the last 3 years. We have had no contact with Earth since the after the last attack, the Confederation is several old colonies that have banded together in a agreement of Free Trade and Free Immigration//

Boyce could hear the stifled excitement build.

"Engineering, power her up, full power, I want us lit up like a Christmas tree" Boyce ordered.

Out of the black and mixture of tossing debris the Wasp sprung to life, her engines glowed to life, her deflector dish powered on and glowed blue, running lights, everything. Her classic Constitution class refit hull coming to life. Boyce was sure it would spook the other captain but in some sick sense, it made Boyce laugh. He hit the intership comms

//Good morning Captain, This is Captain Joshua Boyce of the USS Wasp, I have a feeling that we are going to need to have a chat//

Boyce couldn't help but smile.

(OOC: I've decided to skip all the events that happened to my ship in the Alpha Centauri System...the reason would be me being lazy:rolleyes: ....and also i'm itching for contact. Lastly, mind if I also steal the Captain's log thing?;) )

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

[Captain's log: We have successfully helped the locals on Centauri IV on their needs. They now have an efficient supply of food, power, and communications throughout the system. However, they cannot communicate outside the system since the subspace relays were destroyed by the Borg. Alpha Centuari will regain their subspace communications as soon as we reach Earth. As for now, we are headed for Earth to see its fate after the war....]


The USS Omega appeared through a blue slip in space as they have reach Earth.

"Captain," the helmsman said, "We're here...Earth."
Captain Karrigan thought deeply, "Hail Starfleet."
"Aye sir."
------------------------------

(OOC: Now hopefully United Terran Planets is still here....)

A Old Consitution class, my goodness Perius did not even think they were in service anymore.

"come aboard Captain, we would be honoured by your presence" Perius knew how important it was to be on good terms, every meeting was a possible alliance. Perius thought the Confederation was a good idea, just it was being twisted by it's leader.

The CSS Recon, moved towards the station in order to begin repairs and the Victoria moved towards the wreckage that littered the area to scan for possible. They were both Sabre Class ships.

Jessica's CSS Siren (a Excelsior) stayed close to the Revelation, Jessica was aware the same as Perius that not every Federation vessel these days were truthfully working for the Federation.

Consitution or not, it was no match for the Revelation or the Siren and these guys would know this when they scan our ships to find out the technology we have installed.

Klingon Cloaking, Borg shielding and Sensors plus a transwarp drive (which can only work if they have a 4 transwarp coils onboard and last for about 3 trips)

(OOC: dont think he is, I recommend you take some form of control over Starfleet...before other peope get carried away :P)

There had been a few things the Joshua Boyce had been nervous for, his high school prom, his wedding, and now this. Ever since the fall of the federation and the Wasp had limped to the Trelani system he never expected to see another federation ship let alone one still running and crewed. He hadn't been to Earth since the end of the war, he didn't even know if the Federation even existed, but he continued to represent what the Federation was, in his mind, it wasn't dead at all.

From the scans he knew that an old Connie was no match for whatever mess modifications they had made to their old ships, but they seriously underestimated what the Wasp could do, considering the heavy weaponry that the mark three refit added. Boyce was proud of his ship, down the the last bolt.

He paused for a moment at the door to the transporter room. His towering first officer Shree stood next to him. He took a moment to rake back the notch of feathers on his head back much like he was slicking them back like they did in the 1950's. He clicked his beak in anticipation. He was as nervous as Boyce was, but being seven feet tall made Shree slightly intimidating, which ironically was the opposite of his personality. Boyce turned to Shree and looked at him. Shree responded with a turn of his head, bringing one of his eyes to meet Josh's.

"Are you ready for this my friend?" Captain Boyce asked.

"We are not going to get anywhere standing in a doorway will we" Shree responded with a click of his beak.

Josh smiled.

"You know old friend, you seem to have a knack for the obvious" Boyce said sarcastically as he strode onto the transporter pad with Shree following close behind.

They both took their places on the pad.

Boyce nodded at the transporter chief and they were surrounded with a bright blue light.

"Troubling the Obvious and Complicating the...." Shree's words dissipated in the sound of the Transporters whine.

OOC Wasp looks like this
http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/nx9100/Trek/Constitution-class.jpg

OCC: Hey I'm in the Sector 001 so it means I'll get some sort of contact.


IC:
Commander Abrams stood in CIC staring at the DRADIAS that radiation from the hundreds of hulks of destroyed starships spreadout over the system, apparently from a large battle in which it seems as if the defenders lost. Nothing seemed to be moving but until close range scans come in Rashari DRADRIAS couldn't tell rocks from ships. "Have the Raptors do short range jumps to the planets, scan and report back."

(OOC: Um think I should remind everyone that the defence of Earth was a victory for the Federation, by what I can see Earth was able to push back what was left of the Borg fleet. So Earth is not a smouldering ruin and if you do go there your still going to find the heart of the Federation)

Captains Log Encrypted Supplemental: It has been over a week now since the Borg appeared; new Borg. When I was a little girl I would look up at the stars and want to touch them…that was before the darkness came to our worlds like a giant hand reaching out from the void and making a mighty fist that crushed all in its path. That was a long time ago; but now that I’m here I find myself longing for that feeling of wonder and childhood innocence. Sometimes I want to be plugged back into the matrix, I want to go back to believing in the gods; it was nice. I kind of want that back, I want to turn off my brain and watch Dancing with the Stars, I am Charlie Gordon who fears my new knowledge and secretly wishes to go back to an IQ of 67.

“How’s it coming along?” Dolye asked from her chair starting her new duty shift relieving the night watch.

“Skipper; We’re doing pretty well; We’ve Got the Intrepid, The Akira and the Two Defiant Classes running under there own power. Though I recommend swapping out the Anti Matter drive for a Mark IV Cold Fusion Reactor and fitting a Hyperspace Votex drive when we get back to Fleet Yards; I don’t like Anti-Matter Reactors too much” Rita said with a nod and it was true. The Navy only used Anti-Matter for weapons since they used to extract zero point energy for power but that technology has long since been lost in the war.

“We’ve also salvaged a Miranda Class; we had to mash parts from an Akira and a Defiant wreckage damaged beyond repair to do it but she’ll be in pretty decent shape we even used the wreckage hull to repair some of the Miranda’s hull plating. But she’ll need some yard space for a full make over” She said continuing her report. “We’ve also been pretty good stripping the more damaged wrecks for spares and materials Cargo Bays One, Two and four are full to the Brim; Three and Six are at half Capacity Seven and Eight still need filling; though this is a Warship not a Cargo haulier. I’ve also started filling up the cargo bays of the Intrepid and the Akira with materials from the debris field so we can take more back with us” Rita said with a smile. This was why Doyle had put her in change of the Salvage Mission Rita was a very talented but also efficient engineer; some said jokingly that her efficiency bordered on ‘Borg like’ but if you ever needed to do a lot with a little Rita was your woman.

“How’s the Repairs on the Cube going?” Doyle asked.

“Pretty Well; We’ve managed to salvage enough parts from the debris fields; looks like there was the debris of several Spheres here too which is what we’ve mostly been using. We’ve shared the bits out between us and managed to Jury Rig a core with several Borg-Power-Cells in a tandem reciprocating cycle that we can use to jump start the Cubes Main reactor” Rita rattled off enthusiastically; Rita loved machines and she loved getting things working.

“Like Jump leads on a car battery?” Doyle said in understanding.

“Exactly! These Borg are actually really fun; in a creepy kind of way it still makes me shudder when they grin at me, once you get past the lack of a sun tan they’re good to talk to. I think some of us impressed them though when we started hauling things around four times our body weight” Rita replied with a grin.

“The Perks of being a heavy gravity worlder” Doyle said equally with a grin.

The Cube
Operations on the cube were progressing at a steady rate; though the ship itself still lacked main power but they had got auxiliary power online so they now had gravity plating so they were no longer forced to them to use Magnetised boots but still not Life support. Which meant the Animarnian’s regularly had to return to the shuttles to recharge there encounter suits power cells which created the mini atmosphere for them to breath. The Engineers had actual fitted inside the assimilation bay a portable Oxygen field generator and had become the centre of operations and was guarded at all times like a war-zone. Engineers and Marines alike moved boxes and spare parts far heavier than a normal human could carry to different parts of the cube. Usually by had since even the Cubes Internal Transporters were offline with no power.

“Where do you want this?” one of the strapping young marines said to a Borg from under his Mask while holding a console on his shoulders at least four times his own weight as if it was paper.

"Put eet down next to this one," Omigott said from his place under the power console. He spoke with that soft voice, and lilting Andorian accent, that were usually reserved for the diplomats. By now, the humans had figured out that, large though he was, he was a gentle and mild-mannered being, and most of them had grudgingly started to like him. "Then I can swap parts without haveeng to slied all over the place. You know, when thees ees done, we should be able to start up main power."

"Good," Legion said, entering the room. "Is your team in place."

Omigott slid out. "Always," he said.

They had been using spoken words almost exclusively whenever they were working with the Toast, as the Borg were now calling their confederation counterparts. Mischievous calls of "Hey, TOASTER!" "What, TOAST?" echoed through the halls from time to time. This was Ver's doing. He had a totally different style from his fellow council member--where Falsus liked a relaxed atmosphere, Ver preferred a more spit-and-polish, disciplined approach. Thus, the first time that members of his team had made jokes at the confederation's expense, he had been there to dress them down, very publicly. In the long run, it had helped a great deal.

"You're certain that we'll be able to contain the Main Protocol if something starts to go wrong?" Legion asked Omigott.

"Notheeng's eveh certain," the elderly New Borg replied, "but we've got redundancy at every station, ahnd I don't need to remind you that your meelitary corps are working claw-in-claw weeth my geek squad--ahnd we've got unenjoined advisors who can pull the plug eef they start to take over our eemplahnts--ahnd Falsus ahnd company are watching from Prophet's Hope. We're ready--ahnd now thees console should be up to spec." He grunted as he slid out from behind it, stood up and jacked in. "Alright. One last diagnosteec ahnd then we light 'er up."

"Let me know when you're finished."

"80%...90%...done."

Legion then went on the ship's intercom, as was protocol.

Attention all members of Operation Lion Tamer: This is Legion.
We are ready to power up. Repeat, we are ready to power up.
Synchronize your operations and begin process at my mark.
Three...two...one...mark."


All over the cube ship, lights began coming on. Rooms, conduits...and data consoles.

In the main data room, an unimposing display came to life and showed a simple status message.


SYSTEM ACTIVATION IN PROGRESS.
MAIN POWER...OK.
LIFE SUPPORT...OK.
DEFENSIVE SHIELDING...OK.
WEAPONS SYSTEMS...DISABLED.
RE-ENABLING....DONE.
GOING TO LEVEL-TWO ACTIVATION.
CHECKING COMPUTATIONAL RESOURCES...OK.
STARTING BASIC AI...OK.
BASIC-LEVEL AI...
ESTABLISHING MISSION OBJECTIVES...
...REPAIR DAMAGE...
...ASSESS REGION SUITABILITY FOR ABSORPTION...
...RESTORE ERRANT DRONES...
ACTIVATING MASTER-LEVEL AI...
MASTER-LEVEL AI IS ACTIVE...
ABSORB.
ABSORB.
ABSORB!

The Cube
It was really an amazing turn around; working with these new Borg; they talked, they laughed they made jokes between themselves; The Marines even started to strike up a sort of working rapport with there Borg Counterparts. Sometimes things were still edgy after all decades of hatred aren’t erased overnight but things were a lot more relaxed than a week ago and there was even times of light hearted banter. A Group of Marines just off patrol passed one of the joint Checkpoints set up near the Assimilation bay and removed there masks of there pressurised suits as they entered the Oxygen shields perimeter feeling the fresh crisp air. “Good quiet patrol; just how I like it” one said to the other.

“Yeah, Gaffer will be pleased to; if every patrol is as uneventful as this” the other replied as he walked up the lowered rear hatch of a shuttle and plugged his suits battery pack into the recharge unit which lit up in blue. The two marines sitting opposite each other on some salvage crates full of Spare Borg bits. One pulled out a tin cup and the other a silver foil MRE.

“And for Tonight’s dinner” he said opening the foil; “Chicken and Rice” he said; “You know these things even come with toilet paper?” Joe joked.

“The Toilet paper probably taste better” the other Marine, Neil replied with a laugh as he poured water from his canteen into the cup and sipped it. There was a gentle hum in the air as main power was restored and lights started coming on all over the cube but before Joe could even take his first bite however; an alarm Klaxon started sounding throughout the ship. Joe and Neil dropped what they were doing and picked up their rifles quickly fitting a new battery to pressurise there suits once more. They ran outside. Then IT came; a loud Ominous Digitised Voice.

“Life Forms detected, Grid Section 72, Grid Section 68, Grid Section 87, Grid Section 75. Species 8748 Proceed with Assimilation”

Drones that were dead; started to reactive themselves; standing like Zombies they weren’t as fast as real living drones but there was no doubt they could do serious damage. “What the hell is going on mate?” Joe Asked one of there Borg Friends as he put four rounds centre mass into two Zombie Drones approaching there position; the Neutronium tipped bullets going right through the Borg Chest armour and any Borg Shields.

"Something's wrong," Gitmo replied. "The ship's trying to reabsorb us!"

By now, reports of similar incidents were coming in from all over the ship--and they were going through the collective.

Ver happened to be in main engineering with Omigott, overseeing the power-up.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Blaugh!" the Andorian replied. "We've got a rogue AI! Queekly! Find all consoles! We MUST shut eet down before--."


ERRANT DRONES DETECTED.
REASSYMILATION PROTOCOL INITIATED.


"Eet knows we're here!" Omigot said.

"Security up, everyone!" Ver broke in. Like Omigott, he was speaking and sending at the same time. "NOW! No reversions!"

"Anyone who finds an AI running on a data console, report in!" Omigott said.

"Legion, REPORT!" Ver said.

"The zombie drones are coming back online. There is also a standard reabsorption protocol in its starting phases. We can handle the drones as long as they don't give us any surprizes."

"Try to maintain those bodies," Ver said, calming down. "We might need them."

"We'll do what we can, sir," Legion replied. Then, there was weapons fire.

"Legion, what's happening?"

"A sweep team came through before we got our lock-out set up. It won't happen again."

"Alright," Omigott said, "I'm pulling up the master process table. It's like trying to find a specific body in a mass grave, but I'm looking for it."


INTRUDERS DETECTED.
INITIATING SECURITY PROTOCOLS.


"It's starting up a security lockdown," Omigott said. "We're losing it!"

The arrival of the Wasp crew was very exciting for everyone, Cameron had been sent to give them the tour since Perius was busy ordering around the ships that were arming the station and salvaging wreckage.

As they bodes appeared out of a white light, Cameron was quick to go into tourism mode.

"Welcome too the USS: Revelation" He said USS because in his opinion in the end all these ships were property of the Federation.

"This is a Akira Class, with what we like to call the 'Confederate Refit' that is Klingon Cloaking, Borg Shielding and also Borg sensors which allot us to tell things like your Shield Frequency. We are also capable of Transwarp but that can only be used in desperate situations due to the lack of Transwarp coils that are in full working order"

They walk out to the hallways, where Cameron further explains the ship.

"The Revelation is the acting Flagship of the Confederation, and the De-Facto Admiral of this fleet is Captain Perius. The ship has been in service for 9 years and has fought in over two-Hundred and Twenty-One major engagements, The Fleet consists of 8 large starships and about 40 or so smaller vessels who trade between member planets."

They continue to walk, Cameron was taking them to the Memorial Room where Perius himself created a shrine in honour of the people who gave there lives during the war.

"The Confederation consists of three Systems. Devenis, Zulu-Alpha and Regulus. We also control two Starbases 343 and 24"

The Emerald Fire and the Red Sabre, a refitted Klingon Cruiser from the days of the Romulan/Klingon alliance, dropped back into sub-light flight on the edge of the system which had once been home to Starbase 23. Hidden behind their cloaks, they conducted a sweep of the system on with all sensors, save those which might betray their location. Commador Neera sat silently, awaiting the report from her tactical officer.

"Parts of the station appear to be functional, Commadore, but we can't verify the presence of life signs at this distance. There's a lot of interference coming off the wreaks out there, but we're reading several Federation derelicts, as well as substantial amounts of Borg debris. And two Federation Starships."

Neera sat strait upright as contempt, excitement, and frusteration rushed through her. But her face remained impassive. Now was not the time to act rashly. Of course, for Commadore Neera, it was never a time to act rashly.

"Federation? Active warships?"

"Affirmative. One Akira Class with Borg features added, and one third-generation Constitution Class refit."

Neera sat back, pondering her next move. She could more than match the Constitution, but an Akira was not a ship to be taken lightly, and if it was refitted with Borg tech, their was no way of knowing how strong it might be. In any case, she was under orders to salvage ships, and explicitly under orders not to start a war.

"Alright, send off a message to Admiral Tomall, and request further orders. Stop engines and let us cost in under the cloak. Use thrusters to place us on the far side of the debris field, behind the Starbase, and see if you can tap their communications. If they detect us, you are to go to warp immediately, in the opposite direction from home. We don't want to bring them right back with us." It was risky to stay, but the cloak should keep them out of sight until they heard back from Tomall and Vranik. Their was even a chance they could gather some intel, though it was a bit of a long shot given the interference from the wreaks. Still, any chance to gain information on the status of the other major powers was not to be ignored. These might simply be pirates, but if the Federation was still intact, it was potentially a grave threat to Romulan interests. And a source of much anger for the Romulan people. She had not forgotten that it was the Federation's rash strike on the Borg Unimatrix which had presaged the war, nor that it was the Federation's failiure that had allowed the Borg to strike at Romulus.

Alarms were sounding all over the ship as Zombie Drones started towards checkpoints; the Animarnian’s were very calm and professional killers. Taking the Zombie Drones down with as little ammunition as possible; aiming for the centre of mass and the head severed the brain and the spine; effectively disabling them; Every round counted and none were wasted. Several Marines and an Engineering team had been assigned to Omigott as both a security detail and to help with the heavy lifting. The Marines now took up firing positions at the junctures behind alcoves and cargo crates giving Omigott Covering fire to do whatever he needed to do; while the Engineers tried to help shut down whatever was going on.

“Omigott, Got an Idea” One of the Engineers a young man, barely 30 spoke up; “How about we hack into the Subspace node”, he said pointing. “Backtrack the AI control signal to its source then we might be able to override the AI by writing new protocols into the program from here use the Borg Transporters to get us there if we need to do it on site?” he said.

From the Assimilation bay; Shepherd was giving orders and organising fire teams to sweep the area of Borg and secure a perimeter luckily the bay had already been cleared of dead Borg so the bay was still a secure point of operations. The Marines weren’t being nearly as careful about preserving the Zombie Borg’s bodies instead focusing on preserving there own and that of there new Borg friends; but this wasn’t out of any malicious act; just survival instinct.

“Johnson, Take a 6 man team and look for that console; double stack and be quick about it” Shepherd ordered.

“Yes Gaffer!” they chimed off and ran off. It was going to be like trying to find a needle in the proverbial haystack.

Captain Boyce strode behind what he assumed to be a commander, at this point more of a tour guide. He didn't like being shown around and some of the things that he was hearing didn't make him to happy either. Confederation, control, these people were from the Federation, what would change that other than the status of the Federation. Josh hoped that his disdain for some of the things that the Commander was talking about didn't appear on his face. He knew that he was known for showing his emotions by his facial expression but in the case where he was a guest, his ship could easily be torn apart by the "Confederate" ship that he was on, he didn't want to press his luck. He could tell by the nervous click of Sree's beak that he felt the same way. It was only a matter of time before they started asking questions, and he had a few things he had to say himself.

He leaned in close to Shree so that nobody could hear their conversation.

"Kinda feels like they are showing off, like they are trying to recruit us" Boyce said to his First officer.

Shree looked forward to make sure that the Commander was still talking.

"Like a yearling trying to sell candied seeds back on Pokos" He whispered.

Joshua couldn't help but chuckle at his friends dry sense of humor.

Down the corridor they went, the Confederate commander talking away.

Cameron smiles as he looks back from his shoulder, he could tell what was happening in the captains mind.

"Am I proud of the Confederation? I can say now captain that I am not happy with the current situation nore will I ever be. Everyone on this ship has lost somebody they loved to the Borg, I do not like working for the Confederation but if we left all these ships to go back to Earth we do not know what might happen. You can imagine the dilema of the scenario, either we leave these people defenceless or we leave Earth until we have the resources to have a ship sent out"

They arrive at the shrine to the war and a tear trickles down Cameron's face.

"I would never try and recruit you into the Confederacy and that is the greatest insult of them all, I am a Federation officer who's last order was to protect the 6 billion Federation citizens that make up the local population. Same with every ship here, we are here in reality just following orders of the local Federation Authority which in the end is Govenor John who in turn is the figure-head of the Confederate Worlds".

He looks to the middle statue it was like a model of the solar system but only had Earth, Vulcan, Andoria, Tellar and Alpha Centauri in a circle and in the middle it had the symbol of the Federation.

A sign underneath reads

"A dream that became a reality and spread throughout the stars."
- Captain James T. Kirk

Along the walls, names of every crewmen who lost there life at that last battle at Earth. the last Victory and the last breathe of the Federation.

"Our purpose is to Protect and Serve the people of these systems for the people who died defending the laws we live by and this room was made by Perius himself to make everyone on this vessel remember why we are here"

Suddenly he recieves a message from the bridge, It was Perius.

"Cameron, we have a situation. Sensors have detected a resent warp signiture non-federation and last thing we need is a ambush"

I look over to the group of visitors

"I suggest you return to your ship, looks like we might have company" In reality Cameron was deeply hurt, but it was not the time for a Emotional moment.

----On the Bridge----

"Hail the Siren" Perius quickly said as a women appears on screen

"What are the orders Captain Krusi?" Jessica requested

"Stay cloaked and patrol the area, last thing we need is pirates trying to steal the station off us"

"Do recognise the signiture?"

"Negative, but that just means to be a hell of a lot more careful" he then presses a button and contacts the other ships over Audio.

"Activate yellow alert"

Captains log: After a long tour of the Revelation, once again one wrong move seemed to have screwed the whole first impression thing. I wanted to go for a better one but there is a lot to work out before we can be considered friends. Soon I hope.


Captain Boyce strode onto the bridge of the Wasp and strode quickly to his chair and sat down, the yellow alert klaxon flashed incessantly as he looked intently into the veiwscreen where the warp signatures seemed to have originated. Shree took his spot at his station and began staring at his readouts.

"That could of gone better" Boyce stated to his first officer.

"Well, it is going to be a long road, but we might be able to come to an impasse" Shree added as he continued to look at the readouts.

Boyce thought for a moment, the decided to take action.

"Helm, bring us to course three two niner" He ordered.

The Wasp slowly turned and came to face the direction of the threat.

"Won't do us a beet of good unless we cahn find wheech node the master AI ees runneeng on," Omigott replied. "They shunt off the subprocesses anonymously to avoid detection.

A translucent, holographic display of the cube ship had arisen in front of Omigott, and, next to it, a large virtual screen listing running processes.

"Wait a minute...there's an active console with no listed processes running...here. Legion, Frakes--check level fourteen, corridor six, console five-seven-five. I'm getting a process anomaly."

"Roger that, Omigott," Legion replied. "Wilco. En route now."

A glowing green dot appeared on the orange-brown background showing Legion's position.

"Looks like our antiabsorption defenses are up to the challenge," Omigott said to the engineer. "I shudder to theenk of the horror should my people turn on their--."

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

In the privacy of the central cube, Dulcinea found herelf pressed gleefully against a wall, and involved in a long, deep kiss with Ensign Robertson of the Zophia. Suddenly, her big, brown eyes opened wide and tensed and she pulled away.

"Bobby."

"Mmmmm."

"Bobby! We gotta stop."

"Ohhh, how come?"

"The sleepwalkers are coming."

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

"OK. Now, just pull the cable," Kent said to Lieutennant Ishtar Singh. They were caught on a survey run with no guns. "Then, we step into the regen chambers and let 'em walk right by."

"You're kidding!" Singh shot back. "If this thing activates, it will absorb us before we know it's trying!"

"That's why we're pulling the cables--both at the same time. It'll give us thirty-five seconds of hiding time, and the sweepers'll walk right past. They're blind and deaf. They rely totally on their sensor implants. They won't even know we're here. Quick now! They're starting down the hall."

"Alright, but if this goes wrong, you're never going to hear the end of it."

"Not to worry. This is a job...for Kent."

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

From Prophet's Hope, a message went to Zophia. Falsus was monitoring the subcollective, and, as a result, was honoring an agreement he had with his counterpart.


Falsus to Doyle.
There is a fire.
Repeat: there is a fire.
Falsus out.


Power levels on Prophet's Hope went up almost off the scale. She was arming herself. All weapons locked on the derelict cube ship. Every New Borg knew that, if push came to shove, they'd blow the old relic out of the skies before they allowed it to threaten the galaxy.

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

A message sounded on the intercom system. In a strange, mechanical, multiple voice that was characteristic of the Old Borg, it said:


Attention errant drones:
We are Borg. You will be reassimilated. Resistance is futile.


"Hah!" Omigott shot back. "That's what they ALL say!"

Sol System / Sector 001

The USS Omega heads closer to the center of the Federation. The crew were overwhelmed at how much debris there was. There was destroyed ships, parts of ships, some bodies...human, Vulcan, even Borg. They all float peacefully in the space as the Omega passes by. Captain Karrigan's emotions begin to rise up as he thinks about what the last battle was like. Having missed the battle and being stranded on Centauri VII made him angry. At the distance, there was a blue planet bright in the black background of space. It was Earth. Now the ship anticipates first contact with Starfleet in 3 years...

"Captain, channel to Starfleet is open," the Ops station said.

Understanding the situation, Captain Karrigan stood up and raises his chin a centimeter, "This is Captain Turk Karrigan of the Federation starship USS Omega, 11th Fleet. Please respond."

The bridge crew waits desperately for a respond. Everyone was looking at the viewscreen while listening to static. It seems to be an eternity...then finally a man wearing Starfleet Uniform appeared on the viewscreen. From the looks of it, he seems to be of high ranked...

"This is Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez," there was a confused but relieved look on his face, "...So glad to see the USS Omega back...We thought you were destroyed..."

There was a pause on Captain Karrigan's end..."...yes Admiral, we're back home."

"Well then, as you see, we have a lot to talk about."
"Yes sir, me and my crew need a lot of catching up to do."

Admiral Ramirez was happy to see the crew back again. They would certainly be very helpful in re-exploring the galaxy. However, there's much work to be done. Starfleet's ship reserves are at a very low level.

"Captain, you may proceed to the nearest dry dock," Rear Admiral Ramirez ordered.

"Yes sir," Captain Karrigan said, "..Glad to be back."

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

As the Omega heads for the dry dock, scans of the area reveal a ship...

"I am picking up a large contact here," Tactical said.

"Can you identify what it is?" Captain Karrigan asked.

"It may be a ship sir," Tactical responded, "from what I'm reading, it doesn't appear to be in our archives."

"Is it hostile?"

"Negative sir, it does not appear it's charging weapons"

"I suggest we try to contact it," Commander Dawson said.

"Try hailing it, " Captain ordered, "All hands yellow alert raise shields...just in case..."

"Captain, hailing frequencies open."


"//This is Captain Turk Karrigan of the Federation starship OMEGA. Please states who you are and your purpose of being in Sector 001//"


(OOC: This is for you Rashari Prime)

(OOC: Since United Terran Planets haven't respond, I guess I'll take over Earth.....for now...)

Commadore Neera sat silently, watching the still cold void as the derelicts drifted by. Suddenly her tactical officer broke in, his voice tense.

"Detecting three more ships. Two Sabers and an Excelsior."

Neera sat up straight. There was enough firepower out there to destroy her fleet before they could fire a single shot.

"Red alert. Keep the engines on standby, and go to warp if you so much as think they might have detected us." It was risky: they might detect the engine's signature. But it would be better to be caught with their engines on than to be caught with there engines off. At that moment, the com station buzzed, and the officer on duty informed her that it was the reply from Admiral Tomall, and though she was loth to admit it, Neera was relieved that it had come now. It would make any fallout from this situation the Admiral's problem, not her's or her crew's. Not that that would help if they were dead.

"Put it through." The screen crackled to life with the Admiral's face.

"Commadore Neera, you are to remain cloaked and observe the Federation vessels. Send the Red Saber to follow the lead ship back to its home base. If you are detected, you are to de-cloak and initiate contact. Do not under any circumstance reveal your system or government of origin. Masqureade as free-lance vessels to gather inteligence. Salvage of derelicts retains secondary importance. Tomall out."

For a moment Neera sat contemplating the message. The order to make contact under any circumstance had not been what she anticipated, and it struck her as rather rash. She could tell that her crew felt the same doubts, and for that matter, Tomall had hardly seemed happy about it. This was Vranik's doing: he was to much politician, and not enough soldier. But they had their orders, and she would carry them out.

"Maintain survaillance, and inform me of any change in status of the Federation ships." A few minutes passed in silence, and then it began.

"Commadore, the Federation vessels are swinging towards us. They seem to be moving into defensive positions."

"Raise shields and stand by on and torpedos and disruptor banks, but do not fire unless I give the order."

Neera felt the tension rising rapidly. So much for silent observation. She took a deep breath, gave a silent prayer, and waited for the Feds to make the next move.

The Siren moves further to the other side of the station, then it was time to pull out one of the 'Confederate Upgrades'.

"Activate borg sensors, sweep the area" the ship de-cloaks and a bright green light flashes from the front of the ship, This sensor could pick up any distortion.

It sweeps the area, it was only a matter of minutes before the intruders were found.

Jessica sends out a message to all Federation class ships.

"I think it's Romulans"

CIC, Zophia
Doyle’s face fell she too had been monitoring the situation though certainly not as instantaneously as her counterpart but none the less; even as she gave orders on the bridge several more Shuttles full of Royal Marines were being prepped for launch.

“XO Set Condition One, Navigation; Bring us around; Vector Seven two Zero; Turn us Broadside” Doyle Ordered to swing the massive 850m Long Armoured ‘Brick’ that was the Zophia to its side. While it was true that side batteries weren’t as powerful as the primary forward ones; there were far more of them; the Navy had learnt in the war that destroying a cube meant saturation fire.

“Tactical Get Me a Firing Solution on that ship; Long Fires, Main and Port Rail Batteries” She ordered. The Zophia positively started to light up like a Christmas Tree with power now being actively channelled to the weapons systems capacitors; Photon Torpedoes were loaded into there tubes and rendered live while the Tactical Computer started to calculate the best firing solution for maximum damage. Doyle sat in her chair; if required she would throw everything she had at the cube.

“Raise Shields” she ordered; “Start the clock” she added. A blue noise field appeared around the Zophia moulding itself to the contours of the hull while a large clock started counting down from five minutes on the master engineering display at the back. Five Minutes of shields; five minutes that they would be protected from Borg Transporters; All Compartments were sealed with heavy armoured doors and Marines were posted in every room in pairs; every crewmember was issued arms and ammunition

“We are Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile”

Doyle tapped her computer in the command chair and sent a two word response – “Frak You”

The Cube
Things were moving with haste and caution; “Ok so we need to get to that console to shut all this down?” She said with questioning nod. “What do you want us to do?” Said a young but very Navy Engineering officer. The Royal Marines meanwhile were being attentive but still behind cover positions ready to take on anything that came after them. A Second eight man Fire Team was moving with Legion essentially helping to clear the road.

“Jackson, Manning; your on point, Louie pick up the rear” the troop commander ordered most of them were carries rifles though Louie was carrying a Big Bore Gauss Rifle that could probably severe limbs at close range. Map information of the cube was being sent directly to there visors so they knew where they were going.

"Form up with me," Legion said, his gaze never varying from straight ahead--though it was difficult to tell, as the shield plate had come down over his face, and the images on the heads-up display were a bit distracting. "And do not hesitate to use those weapons of yours. A single AI has a harder time adapting than a network of minds. It will be slower to counter our moves than a full-blown collective. Nonetheless, we can anticipate that it will eventually raise exclusion barriers, and we need to be prepared to knock them down and to divert it.

"I'm behind Jason and Manning."

He turned and almost woodenly walked straight into an oncoming patrol of zombie bodies. He reached his hands out and white light arced out of them as each one took out a sentry. In less than another second, two more joined their fellows, downing the entire drone team.

Three of Legion's Security Forces fell in behind him, in a wedge formation.

"Are you coming, MAG-GOTS?" Legion said, quite loudly, to the rest of them.


THREAT ASSESSMENT: MEDIUM.
RELEASING SUPPRESSION GAS.


A white mist slowly began to issue from the ventilator shafts near the Borg/Marine team.

"Is this thing serious?" asked one of the Borg.

"Watch your weapons, ladies," Legion cautioned. "When that gas reaches a concentration of more than 20%, your weapons fire will ignite it."

This was not what Josh wanted to happen. To much too soon. He just wanted to get things strait with the Confederates, and then go back to Pokos, where he could prepare for what he had been planning all along. A trip back to earth to look for his family, or what was left of it. Instead, he was sitting in the middle of a debris field facing off with some Romulan warbirds.

He sighed deeply as he pressed the comms button.

"All hands Red alert, I repeat, all hands Red alert" His voice echoed throughout the ship.

As if the ship was responding to his voice, and in a way it was, the klaxon changed from yellow to red. The lights all over the ship went to a darker reddish hue. He could hear reports coming in from all over the ship.

"Shields are up, phasers and torpedo banks online, ablative armour charged...."

"Helm, I want as many possible vectors of attack planned into the nav computer to use at your discrecion when things get heated" Captain Boyce ordered.

He rotated his chair over to Shree.

"Shree, I want you to pick the three biggest chunks of debris out there and prepare to lock a tractor beam on them, I have an idea and it might level the playing field if things get hot" He said to Shree.

Shree nodded in approval and went to work, his huge frame straining over his console.

Josh turned his chair to face the veiwscreen. He hit the intership comms and sent a message to the Confederate captain.

//The Wasp is standing by//


Shreelock Spire City, Pokos, Trelani system

Ambassador Pocko Sweelo strode proudly through the doors of the council of Elders. He had dreamed of this day ever since he was a young hatchling. He had spent all of his young years in the valley of Eloow with his family, helping run his fathers seed farm. Those days were long gone, now he was the Ambassador to the United Federation of Planets, well, at least to the Captain of the local starship charged with the defense of the system.

He walked up the marble steps that lead up to the top part of the mountain that the city was built on and in. The city honeycombed through the giant spire that was common for a mountain on Pokos. In-between the mountains were steep canyons and valleys that the origins of the Pokosian people call to. The only flat land in the entire planet is the river deltas where most of the farming on the planet is done.

The large marble columns at the top of the mountain held up the giant structure that was the Council of Elders. Large, ancient wooden doors opened to let him in.

He walked into an open room with a very large fire in the middle. Around the fire sat six of the oldest and wisest of the Pokosian people. The six leaders of the six tribes, including the recently found lost tribe of Utnommo.

Pocko came to a stop near the fires edge. He bowed low to the ground, his tail feathers raising high into the air, then he came to a stiff attention.

"What news do you bring us Pocko of the Sweelo tribe" The grand Chief said, his golden beak glistening in the firelight.

"As you requested my Chief, we have prepared the ship for you and the Grand Council to travel to earth" Pocko responded.

"Do you think the humans will even let us reopen the discussion of our admittance, it has been so long since we have even heard from the mighty Federation, far be it that Captain Boyce is the only sign of the Federation in our space since the end of the war, but one ship does not constitute a political entity, no matter how righteous and noble the Captain is" The high chief stated loudly.

Pocko stood there in the firelight trying to find a response.

Perius shouts "Open hail with the Wasp!" what in the quadrant are they thinking.

"I am not your admiral and never will be, but maintain yellow alert. activating weapon systems and getting ready for a fight is not what we need, please for the sake of peace maintain a Yellow Alert. Romulans will simply see that as a reason to fight"

He knew that the Romulan Empire blaimed starfleet for the borg invasion, apparently we tried to 'Invade' Borg space.

That is not what happened at all, the Federation had nothing to do with events that transpired in the Delta Quadrant, Voyager angered the Borg by destroying most of the collective but when the war started we realised just how bad the re-precussions were. They poured into the Alpha-Quadrant to finally destroy the entire Federation, they perceived us as the greatest threat to them and thus the Federation had to be destroyed.

"Last thing we need is to start another war, this is a time for cooperation captain. Do not allow old Prejudice to get the better of you, just remain vigilant"

Perius then sent out a open communication, so all ships in the area could pick it up.

"Come out of hiding Romulans, be honest with us and you might find us just as honest with you. Continue to remain cloak and I can use the technology on my ships to find every single one of your ships in 15 seconds and disable them in 5" Perius said this calming and made sure his voice made it known he honestly did not want a conflict, just letting the presence know what he was capable of doing.

Captain Boyce sat in disbelief, trusting the Romulans. He never would of guessed. It could of been the years of fending off Romulans, Klingons, and Orion Pirates from Pokos that made him so jumpy. Always being on the defensive, always being out gunned and outnumbered. Trust was something that had to be earned with him, not given. He had stood for the Federation for three years without any help from home, he followed and in some instances interpret the prime directive without anyone to call on for clarification or assistance. But then again, he also knew that the best way to put together the Federation it was with diplomacy and trust, and he had no choice but to trust the Confederate Captain.

"Lower the shields and power down the weapons, but keep those attack vectors and tractor vectors locked in, just in case" Boyce ordered with a cringe,"We will play it safe"

Neera listened cooly to the voice of the man on the Federation ships. It was certainly true what he said: he could defeat them with ease. And based on the comunication sthey had sent off to the Constitution Class, It seemed they really did want to avoid a fight. That was good, but she also felt a flicker of amusement. After all they had been through, the Federation was still the only power in this part of the Galaxy who would negotiate with a potential enemy with their shields lowered. Of course, given the number of ships and the ablative armor, it hardly mattered. She would still be destroyed if things got ugly. But there was nothing to do but carry out her orders. Taking a deep breath, she ordered both ships to decloak, then hailed the lead ship.

"I am Captain Neera of the Emerald Fire. To whom am I adressing this message? Are you Federation? Regardless, I assure you that our intentions are not hostile. We wish to salvage the wreaks for working components. Perhaps you wish to do the same? Then maybe we could strike a bargain." It was not the best introduction, but then she was not used to negotiating from a possition of weakness. No, no excuses. She would have to play this very carefully.

The Gaal (pronounced Gawl) had been a people of war and strife since the early days of their civilization, or the lack thereof. They were not a single people, by any stretch of the imagination. It was held in myth and legend that the sky lords had brought them from across the stars to inhabit the worlds of the system they called Shal'Tek. The sky lords had shaped them, each and every one, both predator and prey and set them to live on this lush globe of land and sea. And they had made war. Carnivore naturally predated upon herbivore. Eventually, herbivore had learned the ways of violence and had fought back to hold their own lands and homes in peace, free of violent death and devouring. Predators vied for hunting grounds, prey for pastures. Feline, Canine, rodent, mustelid, all had fought, and all had lost. Many species, and indeed some entire families, were brought to extinction over the centuries of decimation.

It was the Avians, in the end, who brought a temporary, shaky peace. They developed technology far faster than their constantly discordant landbound brethren. They had watched throughout the ages as those who were not free to soar the skies battled and kept their gaze towards the sky towards which they constantly strove. They developed a society of scientists, originally based entirely upon astronomic observations. It was only a matter of time before they would wish to visit them. It was nearly impossible for them to create anything from the metals they realized would be required for them to advance and from their observations, they knew that there existed within their star system enough planets for each species to have its own world. Thus did they take their case to each breed and with the patience of the stars themselves eventually won out. And so, predator and prey were spread across the worlds of Shal'Tek. But, of course, discontent set in. War was made once more, and it raged across the planets.

It took the threat of total extinction of every race for true civilization to take root. Science, philosophy, and culture progressed, slowly at first, then exploding. It was discovered that their home system could never have formed naturally, and the myths of the sky lords was reborn. It was the search for understanding of their own system that led them to finally reach for others. Their first flight was to the nearest star, named Vega in the Federation Database. Their first warp flight, in 2376, landed them at a Federation outpost and they were soon learned that they had been monitored carefully over the millennia of their development by a race calling themselves Humans. Apparently, their many species were strikingly similar to feral breeds found on the planet of Earth, from whence the Humans hailed. With a ruling council of predators, there was initially distinct mistrust and suspicion. A peoples that had been in existence longer than the human race finally achieved their destiny, only to balk.

It was the incredible voyage of Captain Catherine Janeway that eventually decided them to join. Shortly after her triumphant return home, the Gaal became official members of the Federation. In a mix of completely disparate cultures, the Gaal had one single thread that ran strong throughout them all: the absolute sanctity of the family unit. Captain Janeway had brought her pack through danger and strife, against all adversity, to return home. It was a story that rang through them all as heroic. It was decided that such extreme courage and loyalty was something behind which they could stand and beside which they could fight.

And then had come the Mechos, as they were called, the Borg. These... beings... were anathema. They were destroyers, corrupters, breakers. Indeed their very technology was backwards by Gaal standards. Gaal tech was the organic integrated into the mechanical, whereas the Borg were the reverse. The Gaal had gone to war yet again, though for once they were united against a common foe. They had fought, and they had died. It began to feel like old times. Extermination began to loom its implacable face before them, and they responded with phasers and torpedoes and blasters and energy blades and, eventually, fangs, claws, bone, gristle, and blood. Of the entire Gaal fleet, every ship their worlds were capable of assembling, only one single escape pod returned to the home worlds. With it, came a message they had begun to suspect would never come: victory.

The Gaal had been ravaged. The predator races had been decimated. The prey species, the builders and designers and thinkers, were the majority. If one good came from the war against these Mechos, it was the final, irrefutable social and political equality accorded to those who had been enslaved, oppressed, and marginalized since the dawn of their races. The predators, who had sacrificed so much, were unable to deny the incredible sacrifices of those upon whom they had once fed. They began to rebuild, and it was the prey species who yet again took the brunt of the labor, but with strong and willing backs and a determination to prove themselves far beyond any other time within their long history. Now, they reach for the stars once more, in search of those fierce allies to whom they had pledged their allegiance.

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Alpha Teshla Norella strolled through her ship, tail twitching silently behind her. She took note of the continuing maintenance as she paced the corridors. Her eyes were closed, her paws following the path they had already tread so many times over the past few months. Even without what amounted to muscle memory, she could have used her other senses to determine her steps. Her ears twitched at the slightest sound, nose following the scent trace markers that gave direction at every junction, whiskers feeling the flow of air as it circulated. She paused in the engine room, opening her eyes to take in the beauty of the warp core. This was the last of a long line, and the fastest yet produced. This beautiful piece of ingenuity would drive her sleek, powerful, graceful vessel into the unknown vastness.

So focused was she on the visions that passed before her mind's eye that she failed to notice her chief engineer, Gamma Dooley Greenland pad up beside her. The brown-furred hare coughed politely to gain her attention. Alpha Teshla startled, her ringed and spotted tail becoming a bottlebrush. The civet female quickly regained her composure and thanked the ancestors that she had not accidentally released her musk. A glance around assured her that her mishap had been noticed by no one other than her Gamma. She turned to face him, straightening her posture further than was normally comfortable and lifting her chin and tail as she gazed at him over the bridge of her nose. It was difficult, considering the fact that the lanky lapin was nearly as tall as her own diminutive frame, but she managed. He ducked his head deferentially and tucked his ears, as was the customary gesture of respect, though a smirk lined his lips.

"My life for my Alpha," he greeted.

"My soul for my Pack," she returned.

"Beauty, ain' it?" the Chief inquired, shifting his gaze towards the core now that protocol had been observed, mirroring his Alpha's thoughts.

"Yes," was her succinct reply. "When will it be fully operational?"

"Right now." He grinned, displaying his large incisors, then quickly pulled his lips down over his teeth, remembering his predator etiquette. "We just finished about ten minutes ago. Just waitin' on everyone else."

She looked at him. "But the ship can fly, yes? Is there any system left that requires us to remain in dock?"

He pulled a datapad from one of the multitudinous pockets lining his jumpsuit and perused it for a few moments before answering. "No ma'am, Alpha Teshla. Comm is up, shields are up, weapons are up, inertial dampers up, structural integrity up, engines up, warp drive up, life support up. The shields are givin' us a few problems, but that's to be expected. It's a power routing problem. We can have them up, just not for long. We'll have it worked out in about a day or so. All the rest is mostly superficial or minor things we can take care of in flight. All told, should be about a week before we're green across the board."

She grinned, fully displaying her fangs, eyes sparkling. "Then let us depart."

She turned without another word and walked as quickly as she dared to the bridge. Were it appropriate, she would have run the entire distance, however that would have caused chaos. The prey would have followed, believing instinctively that she was fleeing danger. The predators would have followed, believing instinctively that she was heading towards some crisis. So, she walked, despite every muscle in her body wishing to push her faster. It took only a few minutes, regardless, thanks to the transport tubes.

She stood at the entrance momentarily as her bridge crew snapped to attention, looking them over, her Beta barking out the orders. Beta Greelin Hoarder was a squirrel, shorter than herself, though his fluffy tail curled almost as high as her chin. He had already proved to be far more commanding and resourceful than she would ever have expected from a rodent, and she was hoping he would continue to do so. His grey fur was nearly invisible against the distasteful gunmetal hue of the freshly installed fittings. She would have remember to get the place colored a pleasing hue some time in the near future. The comm station was manned by Gamma Femala Stickypads, a ferret. She was versed in nearly two hundred languages, both written and spoken, including those of every Gaal race. Navigation was held by the skunk Gamma Tulure Melise. She had worked as a asteroid miner prior to her current station and was reputedly capable of making the clunkiest freighter seem more agile than a falcon. Delta Mourfe Pembale, a mouse, manned engineering. He had been Gamma Greenland's best and brightest student back when the energetic hare had been a professor and had helped in the design of their current warp drive. Gamma Murlan Pilosh was the only one among her senior officers who made her feel short. The massive tiger, half again her height, manned tactical. He had once been a rebel and insurrectionist, declawed for his crimes. He had more than made up for his youthful mistakes during the war, and now he was burning to prove himself once more. Last, but not least, was Gamma Melina Windsong at ops. The wolf bitch was a female of many talents, though her specialty lay in sensor analysis and diagnostic. If it was electronic, her mere presence seemed to make it work more efficiently.

Alpha Teshla took a deep breath and finally stepped onto the bridge.

"My life for my Alpha!" they cried in unison.

"My soul for my Pack!" she shouted back.

She could not help but smile, her fidgeting tail tip belying her surface calm. "Stations!"

They barked their acknowledgment as one and turned to their task. She slipped forward to the command station, her Beta taking his place beside her.

"Run a final diagnostic," she ordered.

A few moments later, Beta Hoarder received the reports. "All systems operational, minor discrepancies present."

A nod of understanding was all she gave. "Open a channel to Central Command and request permission to disengage from dock."

"Central Command grants permission, Alpha."

"Set course to Vega station."

"Course set and laid in, Alpha."

She sighed contentedly, nearly purring as she glanced towards the ceiling and the last, unseen member of her bridge crew, a member almost as vital as the warp core itself. There must be two Alphas, male and female. It was a rule passed down through every clan and breed. "Alpha Skeereth Longfeather? Are you fully interfaced and active?"

"Yes, Alpha Teshla Norella," came the reply over the intercom. "This one is fully interfaced and prepared to engage upon the plotted course."

"Disengage from dock and engage impulse drive."

There was the barest tremble across the decks, felt by only the most sensitive paws, as the clamps released. A sleek, silvered form disentangled itself from the web of cables and wires that had until now fed its every system. A shimmer covered the stylized shape as shields were brought up momentarily then dropped. The wing tips glowed momentarily while weapons were tested. With boundless grace, the ship slipped from its moors, gliding on impulse, thrumming with energy.

Alpha Teshla leaned foward in her seat. She and her crew had been training for nearly a year, training for this very moment, and now it had come. "Alpha Skeereth Longfeather, my love, my pilot, my heart. Engage warp."

"As you desire, Alpha Teshla Norella, my life, my spirit, my soul."

Janeway's Echo, designed to mimic its integrated pilot in shape and function, stretched its wings and vanished into a distended streak, at last, at long last, flying free. Its Alphas would take it out in search of allies old and new and, as its namesake had, bring them all home or die trying.

"Legion," Ver said, "status."

"As anticipated, it's slow going. The AI has blanketed the hallways with flammable gas and activated security shields and is starting to adapt to our weapons systems. It has recognized us and is sending drones specifically to stop us."

"Omigott?"

"We've got the rogue process isolated to a few processors. We're getting ready to run a rabid rabbit* through its memory core to replace all of its programming code with null instructions. If we don't get any surprises, it's just a matter of time now until we're in full control."

"Casualties?"

"Surprisingly," Omigott said, "none so far. We've been very lucky."

"In that case, I think it's time to implement protocol 12. Excuse me, gentlemen."

Ver went over to the intercom and patched into the AI.


Attention rogue AI. We are the New Borg. There has been a change of regime.
You will now assist us. Resistance is futile.

“Roger that” Shepherd said into his communications unit; a light popping up on his HUD display confirming the NBC Threat. “Omigott, We need you to vent this section into space to clear a path for us to get to the AI Platform; that should take care of the gas and allow us to use our weapons” He said.

“People; Magnetise your Boots” he ordered as he tapped a control in his gauntlet there was a hum and a clank as the mag boots kicked in firmly bracing him against the cubes steel floor plating


”Copy” they said as the team obeyed his orders; this was why the Marines used Ballistic weapons over energy ones; the fact they could fire in virtually any environment even zero atmosphere and the Borg seemed perplexed at how to adapt to a Kinetic Energy weapon which made them very useful at mopping up drones. The team now waited for Omigott to decompress the section to clear the gas

RPS Predestiny, Trelani system

Pocko Sweelo strode carefully onto the bridge of the Predestiny. Long before contact with the Federation, the ship had been his. Now, the ship belonged to another young captain. The stations around the bridge were made specifically for the frame and build of the Pokosian body. The chairs even had bars on the bottom for one to wrap their clawed feet around for comfort. It was a luxury that he did not have when he was captain. The blue and purple hue of the ship reflected through the bright yellow light that imitated the yellow sun of the Trelani system. Pocko slowly strode up towards the rail that separated the upper and lower bridge. He was tempted to go down the large ladder and stand near the large window that doubled as a veiwscreen.

He was anxious about the upcoming mission. The silence that had echoed between Earth and the Trelani system was painfully obvious. It had caused widespread panic throughout the entire system. Elders and younglings alike fled to their home nests to be with their flocks in fear that the borg would come down upon them like a toxic rain. Then entered Captain Boyce and his ship. A patrol ship found the Wasp heavily damaged, floating helplessly in the atmosphere that connected Pokos with Plaktea. Captain Boyce had been so helpful in the past and the people here looked up to him as a leader, a hero, even the Council of Elders thought him as our peoples savior. In the end it gave the Pokosian people someone to rally around.

Now the time had come for the people of Pokos to go out and do their part. That first step was the Council of Elders traveling to Earth in hopes of bringing up the question of the Pokosian admittance to the Federation. He hoped that Earth would be still be there. From what Captain Boyce had said about the last battle things were grim, and if Earth still existed, it was only in the former sense of what it had been.

One of the bridge crewmen saw the Ambassador.

"Ambassador Sweelo, I did not know that you were present" The young crewmember said as he bowed low, over doing the motion out of surprise.

The ambassador bowed even lower out of a sign of respect and returned to stand upright. He ran his wingtip feathers through his top notch and turned his gaze once again to the darkness of space.

The Captain of the Predestiny strode proudly onto the bridge of his vessel and took position behind the two pods that made up the helm. Pocko could tell that this Captain was a member of the Untommo tribe, the bravest and hardiest of the Pokosian people. The scars across his grey and silver feathered face gave proof to that. His top notch was partially missing, the stems of of the feathers all that remained of his top notch, imitating an old human hairstyle, the Mohawk, that is what it was.

The Captain clicked his beak authoritatively and began to give orders.

"Helm, set course for Earth, best possible speed" The Captain paused for a moment "May the gods protect the Flock and the Nest"

Pocko Sweelo nodded to the last comment, it was an old saying, from before the Utommo tribe had disappeared so long ago, but it still carried meaning, more so now that tribe had been discovered.

With a flash the Predestiny disappeared into warp, it's final destination, Earth...

"Roger that, Shepherd," Omigott replied. "Opening vents...now."

By now, four top-notch New Borg engineers had joined Omigott, and were standing, jacked in, at other consoles at the centerpoints of the room's four walls. Even with all their combined expertise, it was taking just about all of their efforts to keep the AI from breaking its containment and taking over more of the cube ship's massively-redundant computing facilities. Still, they were making some headway, if only just barely. Omigott's rabit rabbit was also affecting the situation, as it methodically wiped the memory of every computer that the AI managed to run on.

It seemed like forever, but the vents finally opened.

"I think I'm starting to get device control in your area now," Omigott said. "I'm going to try to shut down the security shields."


THREAT ASSESSMENT: DEFEAT INEVITABLE.
INITIATING SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE.


"Blaugh!" Omigott said. "It's throttling main power into an overload! We have to shut down that terminal or we're going to be fried in thirty seconds!"

Captains log

O.S.S Marathon

Orion Star Ship Marathon
Class: Excelsior

Orion Star Systems

This is Captain Jack Spader, we have been flying through former Federation territroy trying to find anyone, we have come across nothing from our voyage. We are the only military vessel of the OSS, our primary mission is to secure other ships for the defence of the Orion Star Systems. The great leader wishes us to claim Romulan or Klingon vessels if we can, Im not sure why he would prefer them over our former federation ships. Ever since we declared our indipendance from the ruined Federation, things have been uneasy.

Perius replies to the Romulans, no wonder they were quick to get out of cloak. they were out of date when Kirk was captain of the Enterprise.

"I am a Federation Captain, you could call us this sectors Garrison. We work under the local Federation Authority to protect this area, Admittingly we have had no contact with the Federation since that last battle. But we stoll protect this area from attack. Our job here is to repair the station and salvage any useful equipment, but what we really want is to salvage Federation Vessels. The ones that were damaged but not beyond repair, so we can send them back"

He then makes a good gesture, Romulans loved there Ego to be stroked.

"As the representative of the Local Authority I can permit you to salvage the area as long as it is not a Federation Vessel, you can salvage the borg and Klingon debris"

This was also to avoid them finding Devenis, before the war it was a backwater colony with a population of 800 million...now it was the Capital of the Confederation and Romulans could find the orders that made it that way.

(If some of my posts seem rushed, thats due to be posting while at TAFE)

“30 Seconds?” Shepherd replied.

“Kendrick’s, Collins, time for a Occums Razor Solution” Shepherd ordered; the two Demolitions experts quickly taped several Explosive charges together and attached a timed Detonator for 5 Seconds “Omigott Time to put those fancy Borg Transporters of yours to good use!” Shepherd said into the communication system; “beam this charge into the console room; blow the console; stop the AI; it’s on a 5 second time fuse; then shunt the extra energy from the overload to the shield generators”

CIC
“Ma’am reading a massive power build up on the Derelict; they’re going to have a core breach in 30 seconds” Ensign Davidson; the man currently manning the operations station reported as he scanned the ship.

“Crap! Tactical tell all team working on the wrecks under there own power behind us; Navigation Change course; Vector Seven Six Five Nine!” Doyle yelled; “Full Burn!” she ordered.

“Captain that puts us directly between the cube and derelict” the female officer standing in for Shepherd reported confused.

“Our armour can take the energy from that blast; there’s can’t” Doyle cleared.

“Yes Ma’am” the officers chimed off in unison; the Zophia’s large engines glowed brightly as the ship accelerated from stationary to 26 PSL in less than 20 stomach churning seconds. If the cube exploded the Zophia’s thick armour plate would play a vital role in protecting both the Derelict ships they had rescued and restored; and the New Borg Ship.

"All Hands, Brace for Contact!"

Alpha Teshla sat somberly absorbing the scene displayed before her tearing eyes. The Vega colony was... gone. Surrounding the planet was a graveyard of ships, the orbital transfer station a blasted husk. Federation, Borg, Romulan, Klingon... Mostly derelicts from the defenders. No life signs. The vast majority of her crew were essentially fresh cadets, straight from the Academy, herself included. She had become so preoccupied with the adventure, the hunt, the exploration, that she had forgotten the reason their mission was so vital. Central Command had planned, nay hoped, to find such a graveyard. They had been briefed on the procedures to follow concerning such a find. However, none of them had been prepared for the reality of it. There was absolute silence on the bridge, barely even the whisper of breath as they all took true stock of the situation they now faced. No one objected when Gamma Murlan began to rumble out a death hymn in his growling bass, asking the ancestors to guide the fallen warrior spirits towards the green fields and plentiful rivers of their deserved resting place.

As he finished, she gave her orders, voice subdued, even her tail limp, "Scan the entire debris field, concentrate on the station. Catalogue anything that can be salvaged, queue a list for those capable of being immediately repaired. As for the station, see if there is enough left in tact to get the communications hub up and running again. Tear apart every ship in this system if you have to, but I want that relay operational. This is first priority."

They gave quiet acknowledgment, going about their tasks, Gamma Murlan continuing to hum the ancient song. Alpha Teshla took some small comfort in the fact that there was only one Gaal vessel among the ruins, mostly in tact. It was one of the last built prior to the final conflict. It was entitled Phoenix, a creature from human mythology that rose from the ashes of death to fly again. She vowed to see the wrecked bird live up to its name. She felt a tickle in the back of her mind as the pilot requested contact via their private channel.

"Yes, Skeereth?" she answered with all the cheer she could muster, opening her mind to him.

"You are greatly troubled, Norella, love," he observed, his thoughts radiating concern. "Perhaps we should simply report our findings and continue on our way."

"No." She gave her head a negatory shake to punctuate the word. "No, I must see this. I had forgotten what our true mission is. I had forgotten what was lost, and who. My clan Sire and many sisters and brothers were lost to these Mechos. We must reclaim as much as we can of what was lost to aid in the rebuilding."

"As you wish, my dear one. Do not lose hope. Do not lose faith. The ancestors will guide you true."

She gave a nod of agreement, terminating their link. In all, seven ships were fit to be made operational, two Federation Defiant class, two Akira, one old Romulan Warbirds, and a Klingon prey bird. Half of the extra engineers the Echo had brought along were dispatched to return them to operational status. The Phoenix, however, was more complicated, requiring a pilot to fly. It would be towed by the other ships once they were active. The orbital station, which had once acted as a communications hub and relay station for half the quadrant, was another matter entirely. Alpha Teshla had said that she did not care if every ship in the system were stripped, and it began to appear as if that would be required. The other half of the engineers were dispatched to perform the vital task of restoring this hub.

It took four days to get the seven ships spaceworthy. They returned to Shal'Tek with the Phoenix in tow. Five days later, the restored Phoenix returned, piloted by her bloodmated brother, Alpha Demish Longfang. He was a young wolf, foolhardy atimes, but brave and strong. His mated pilot was Alpha Neeshala Tailwind. They were a good pair and had tested nearly as well as Skeereth and herself, though in battle simulations they had tended towards reckless tactics over cunning. She was pleased that Alpha Longfang was under orders to place himself under her command. She ordered him to send the returning engineers to the station.

During this time, Alpha Teshla had not sat idle. Indeed, far from it. There were many and varied technologies to be had among the corpses of the slain, technologies the Federation had denied them. Transporters, tractor beams, photon torpedoes, cloaking devices, multi-phasic shielding. The Echo had spent its time wisely, salvaging everything that could be made functional, and a few things Gammas Greenland and Windsong ensured her they could figure out given proper time. As many of these new technologies as could be were fitted to the Echo and the Phoenix over the course of the next week. Borg technology, ironically, was the most compatible with their own, and therefore the easiest to install. Transwarp coils were installed, though their functionality was limited and they would require long bouts of maintenance between uses. Borg shielding and scanners were retrofitted. A cloak for each, though they were nearly useless against any ship that had installed similar scanners. Photon torpedoes were exchanged for their own comparatively paltry payload.

The station would take much longer. Alpha Teshla decided that their time would be best spent elsewhere, continuing the search, whilst the engineers repair the station, guarded by the returning repaired vessels. She also decided that it would be good to test at least one of the new technologies they had acquired.

"Set course for Earth and Starfleet Command," she ordered, the message being instantly relayed to the Phoenix. "Engage transwarp drives when ready."

Warp Six seemed a snails crawl by comparison to this new drive. She was stunned. They burst from transwarp into the Sol system and she opened a channel, hailing on all frequencies.

"This is Alpha Teshla Norella of Janeway's Echo, commanding the Gaal fleet. We come in peace and in hopes of finding the Federation. Please respond"

Their sensors had picked up the two ships in orbit, one heading for dock, one holding stationary orbit with fighters at ready. She hoped they would prove to be the friends she was seeking rather than new enemies to face. She hoped that she would not be required to test more of their newly acquired toys.

P7X46D - Planet's Surface
It seemed to Selinia that she had been fiddling with the transmitter for decades. In reality, it had been perhaps a week. She was not living up to her clan name of Nimblefingers very well. The survivors of this lonely outpost colony, one of the few the Gaal had established before the war began, had hidden themselves within the planets numerous cavern systems to avoid detection and annihilation. Once a month, Selinia ventured to the surface, checking the planetary sensors she had been able to restore, hoping to detect something, anything that would mean there was anyone up there. Given time, she had begun to believe, even the acursed Mechos would be a welcome sight rather than stubbornly empty bandwidths. And then, hope had arrived. There was a ship in orbit! She had raced to contact it, only to find that the transmitter had become just as stubborn as the blasted sensors due to years of neglect.

Her mind was jolted back to the present as current arced through her body. She fell back from the console she had been rewiring for the umpteenth time, fur standing on end, the acrid scent of singed hair burning her nostrils. The ferret took a moment to ensure that all her vital functions were still functioning before getting her stubby legs under her once more. In a fit of frustration she reared back to kick the panel. Her foot stopped mere centimeters from the metal as it bleeped into life. Her fingers flew across it, initiating a hail across all subspace bands.

"This is Silinia Nimblefingers from the planet's surface!" She paused, willing herself to calm down, reigning herself in lest her accent thicken to unintelligible dimensions heretofore unknown. Carefully annunciating each word, she continued. "Is there anyone up there? Can you hear me? Please respond."

"If we could beam in the explosives, we could beam in you and shut the thing down!" Omigott replied. "Wait! I think I got the last of its security shielding. Gentlemen, stand by for transport!"

As Omigott spoke, a wall of oddly-shaped drones came out of a wall, a ventellator shaft and a garbage repository. Instantly, Legion was on it, laying down covering fire. The drones, all mechanical, didn't seem to care. They just kept coming. That was fine with Legion. He just kept mowing them down. "Do not beam me away, Omigott," he said. "I'm using weapons that will destroy--."

But it was too late. The last thing that the group heard was Legion's scream as the transporter beam, interacting with his onboard weapons, scattered his atoms throughout creation.

Then, they materialized in front of the console.

"It's not very complicated," Omigott told them. "All you have to do is shut down power to that console without blowing it up. If you can do that, we can take control of main power and avert a disaster."

Starfleet HQ, Sol System

Rear Admiral Ramirez was looking through the daily reports in his office. There was much work to do...very much. Everyday, he receives dozens of reports on new alien contacts, scattered Federation fleet, newly discovered shipwrecks....it goes on and on. However, there was one thing that he is willing to take a look at...it was survivors. He had been thinking about a plan to rendezvous all surviving Starfleet ships back to Sol. He was interrupted when a man chimed on his office...

"Come in," the Admiral said.
"Sir, a ship just entered the system," a bearded man walked in and saluted.

Admiral Ramirez was curious and halted what he was doing before, "Is it ours?"

"Negative, sir, we can't find any indications of that....however, I think you might want to here their hails."

Admiral Ramirez nodded and ordered the man to relay the message to the office...

//"This is Alpha Teshla Norella of Janeway's Echo, commanding the Gaal fleet. We come in peace and in hopes of finding the Federation. Please respond"//

An ally? Ramirez thought. He was excited, but he must be cautious since it might be a trap. So he decided to head out his office and walked, in a fast pace, to the Comm area.

"Open a channel to the hailing ship," he ordered.
"Aye sir."

The viewscreen was showing a ship not recognizable by Starfleet. Then Rear Admiral Ramirez stood in the center then said,

"This is Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez of Starfleet. We understand you are in hopes of finding the Federation. Yes, this is the center of the Federation. However, this is what's left of the Federation...we are scattered across the quadrant and our allies were either destroyed or disabled. So if you are looking for the Federation, this is it..."

The Homeworld
The Tri Council building on the homeworld was a towering citadel in the centre of the large high tech city filled with spires and pearl white stones and glass sky scrapers staring down at the inhabitants below with neon eyes. The Cites on the surface of the desert world a mark of what the civilisation had once accomplished at its height before the war with the machines; now much of the technology was gone; and what was left was run down without the knowledge to repair. Most of the surface however even with the great cities constantly being battered with sandstorms was desert; the populous had once lived on the surface world protected by the cites great shields until the Machine war. Now though many have migrated to the surface; many more still remained in subterranean areas going about their daily lives. The Tri Council however; did live on the surface and the citadel was the tallest building, central in the vast cityscape that seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see. The Citadel itself was pearl white and bore the scars of war. Inside and at the very top was a vast marble-floored chamber. Sat behind the semi circle were the three leaders of the Animarnian Society. Dressed in the white ceremonial attire; two men and one woman. Made up the council.

The doors opened very quickly and the click of heel on floor filled the room as a man around 6 foot in height stepped in; his Crimson red captains uniform contrast to that of navy blue officers. The rank on his right breast was two gold bars He was obviously a captain.

“Captain Patrick Stewert, Reporting as ordered” he said; his accent thick but also very upper class.

“Greetings Captain” Treball the woman council member spoke; “You are doing well I hope” she said with a nod of her head.

“As well as can be expected of course” Stewert replied with slight disdain; at the Navy’s hay down he had been assigned the Valkyrie; one of the navy’s most advanced ships. He believed the Zophia should have been his instead the council had assigned him to some federation wreck they had salvaged and patched together with parts from other ships. Technically it was more advanced than the Zophia in many ways shields for one certainly but it didn’t have the same grander as a battle-star, he would never understand why Fleet Admiral Harris had given the fleets new flag ship to a mere child.

“Captain we have a mission for you” Treball began; obviously the mouth peace of the council; the council moved in mysterious ways everyone knew that. “How long would it take the Odyssey to reach Earth at best speed?” she asked.

Stewart thought about this; they were crazy; the Federation were gone everyone knew that judging from the number of wrecks they had managed to salvage just near this sector of space in the past left over from the machine-war. And; even if they still existed; the Federation were weak and this was not the time for weakness. The Animarnian’s should be allying themselves with stronger factions; perhaps the Romulans or the Klingons or the Cardasians to their south. The Time of the Federation and its peace mongering was over, now was the time for conflict and strife; least that’s how Stewart viewed it. Things would change soon enough; motions were being put in place and like the Wheels of God moving very slowly and finely but moving non-the less; but now was not the time.

“13 days; top speed ma’am”, he said with a nod; it was definitely true that Hyper-space was faster than standard warp but it also had its draw backs; a ship in Hyper-space couldn’t firstly was flying blind and had no idea what awaited them out side of hyper-space. The Second Major drawback is they could not change course while still in Hyperspace like conventional warp

“I want you to take the Odyssey and head to Earth; Contact the Federation; it is time that we started taking our place more in galactic affairs. We have been recluse far to long and the Federation are those that come closest to sharing our ideals” Hector the dark skinned man and second council member spoke up in his deep tone. Stewart fought to control the urge to smack him; “your ideals maybe but not mine” he thought to himself but spoke aloud a “Yes Sir” before turning on his heel and leaving.

“Stewart to Odyssey, Teleport me now” he said into his communications device attached to the wrist of his uniform. There was a brief shimmer of blue and then he was in the Odyssey’s transporter room. The Odyssey was a Salvaged Miranda Class hull that had been heavily modified with pieces from salvaged Defiant, Excelsior and Akira Class wrecks found near the sector and includes much of that technology as well as some home grown upgrades for its systems. On the outside it may look a lot like the Miranda but inside it was a different animal. The hull has been stripped of virtually all science equipment, lab space and Cargo Bays to make room for extra phaser banks, Shield Generators and Photon Torpedo Ammunition and Launchers. This is not the Miranda of old; this ship is heavily armed and fitted with a layer of plate armour as well as salvaged Ablative armour in critical areas such as command, engineering, shield generators and engine pylons. It had also been fitted with a Hyperspace Vortex Generator. Hyperspace using a different type of Warp Travel; while Conventional Warp engines create a subspace field around the hull. The Hyperspace engines focuses the fields into a single point in space punching a hole directly into a layer of subspace where space is compressed which allows much faster travel than Warp Speed alone

“Navigation; Take us to the outer marker; Rig for FTL, Spool up Hyper and take us to Earth” he said; he would follow his orders; for the time being anyway.

“Aye, Aye Skipper, Full Sublight to Outer Marker, Spool up Hyper” The Lieutenant at the Navigation station said as his fingers danced over the touch pads. “Set Course Vector Nine, Six, Seven Zero, Earth” he repeated his orders; as was military tradition handed down all the way from the wet navy of old. The Odyssey’s then disappeared into Hyperspace in a flash of cyan and white swirls.

The Cube
“Adapt!” Shepherd said into the radio with grimace; that was what the Borg were good at after all; eventually though they did get teleported into the main data chamber which was very large and had a huge green elongated diamond shaped device at its core that ran up several levels. The team looked around for the console, which was displaying the AI and flashing green text in English; or at least the optical translations filters built into the helmet visors displayed it as English. Shepherd looked at the cables and yanked out the biggest fattest one with one good pull; and the console went dead. “Console is down” he reported solemnly; “We also have a man down; Legion is gone” he reported.

Things were at least settling down for the moment; the Cube was under control; main power was up and running. The cube itself was ‘regenerating’ repairing itself using its network of massively redundant Fabricators (what we call Replicators) and automated Regeneration drones plus the work teams from the Zophia and the New Borg. In short things were going better than they had less than an hour ago.

CIC
“Ma’am…picking up something strange from the planet below” Lieutenant Joe Flanigan piped up from operations; “I think it’s a transmission” he said fingers dancing over his touch pad console keyboard and holographic displays.

“I thought you said this world was dead?” Commander Frakes replied; “You did the scans yourself”

“Yes Sir” Flanigan replied; “I did; but sensors confirm 1 life sign now…the signals pretty garbled” he spoke concentrating on the read outs “I’ll try and clean it up; with a recurring loop algorithm and translation matrix”


Slowly but surely the white noise and garbled sound started to sound like English, bad English like someone was talking with a heavy Russian accent "This is Silinia Nimblefingers from the planet's surface! Is there anyone up there? Can you hear me? Please respond." The Voice; quite obviously female spoke over the main speakers.

Doyle smiled; “Mr Flanigan; Open a Channel, boost the transmission gain to cut through the interference” she ordered and he nodded as there was a slight beep and a click to signal the channel was open.

“This is Captain Elizabeth Doyle of the Royal Navy Battle Star Zophia; We Hear you; not quite loud and clear but we hear you Over” she said still smiling. No one had ever expected to find any survivors after the aerial recon of the planet and seeing the devastated cities on the surface first hand gave them little hope

Commadore Neera was surprised by the captain's generocity, but she did not let it show. Either this was a trick, or these people really wanted to avoid a fight. And she was now confident they were either Federation, or one of the Starfleet Splinter Colonies they had observed during the three years since the war. No pirates would negotiate like that with such an advantage of firepower on their side.

"We cordially except your offer. I will order my crew to focus on salvaging the Borg and Klingon wreaks. Additionaly, I would like to propose a meeting between myself and you, Captain. We have been out here on our own a long time, and we would would be interested in any information on the state of the quadrent at large. I suggest that the meeting occure on neutral territory. I leave it to you to decide where and when. Alternatively, we will salvage the wrecks and be on our way."

Turning off the view screen, Neera sat back in her chair with a frown on her face. She didn't like trusting these Federation types. Once, the Romulans and the Federation had fought side by side. And she would never forget the price her people had payed. Forget, or forgive. But she had her orders, and officers had to sometimes swallow their pride and do as they were told. She had done so often enough in the past few years; they all had. In any case, she told herself, these Federation fools would never start a fight unless provoked, and perhaps not then. And they wouldn't have bothered negotiating if they intended her harm, not with such an obvious advantage. Still, you could never be sure, especially in such times as these, and she did not like her fate being in someone else's hands. She turned to her second in command, Commander Torrel.

"Tell Sub-commander Rella to meet me in transporter room three, with four of her most imposing troops. If they wish to negotiate, I will do so personally. You will retain temporary command of the fleet, and maintain secondary alert status. If they attack you are to leave us and flee, but you are not to allow them to capture any intelligence on our home base or other assets. If you cannot escape, then self-destruct both vessels." Not waiting for his affirmative, Neera strode out of the bridge and into the turbolift, checking the "kill" setting on her disruptor pistol as she went.

Janeway's Echo
//This is Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez of Starfleet. We understand you are in hopes of finding the Federation. Yes, this is the center of the Federation. However, this is what's left of the Federation...we are scattered across the quadrant and our allies were either destroyed or disabled. So if you are looking for the Federation, this is it...//

A subdued cheer arose from the bridge crew. It was more than they had hoped.

"Rear Admiral, it is good to hear your voice. I was sent from Shal'Tek to make contact with any remnant of the Federation that I could find. Our first attempt was, of course, at the Vega IX colony. I am pained to say that it was completely decimated. We were able to salvage some of the wrecks however, and we have a team of engineers in place working to restore the communications hub. They estimate two more weeks before it will be operational. Our current fleet consists of my own ship and her sister Phoenix, as well as several salvaged vessels. The rest are currently in Vega system guarding against possible attacks while the station is repaired." Her tone took on a more formal note. "I, Alpha Teshla Morella, have been ordered by Gaal Central Command and the Council of Elders to engage in diplomatic relations with the Federation and to resume our place within it. Rear Admiral, if you wish it, our ships and lives are yours to command."

She stood proud and tall. Mission accomplished, and in such short order. She may just be promoted to a Fleet Command rank when Central and the Council heard of this. A nod to Gamma Stickypads and the message was sent. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the tension that had built up flow out of her body. She was here. The Federation was here. Perhaps the galaxy would survive after all.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'Mal - Planet's Surface
Selenia did much more than cheer. She danced for joy. So caught up in her celebration was she that she almost forgot to respond to the message. In rushing back to the console, however, she tripped over a power cable, causing the console to spark and fizzle. With several rather inventive curses that would have earned her a backhand from her dam, she hastily rectified the situation. It gave the occasional crackle and pop as she readied it to send another signal, but a few kicks were all it required. At least, that is what she contented herself with.

"Praise the ancestors and every god and goddess that ever was, it's good to hear you! Are you from the Federation? Have you come to rescue us? We had nearly lost all hope after the Mechos left. Gory, how many ships do you have? Do you have contact with Starfleet? Would you be able to take us home?"

There was a brief pause as her survival insticts, naturally covert nature, and common sense kicked in, dampening and constraining her jubilation.

"It's just me and my littermate. We're all that's left."

She ended the transmission and wiped a hand across her muzzle, letting loose a few more choice invectives, this time directed at herself. If those in the sky were unfriendly, pirates, raiders, or the like, she had nearly doomed what was left of her people here. As it was, she had barely salvaged the situation, though they may not have bought her hastily constructed ruse. Now, though, there was only one thing left to do: wait. She would know their intentions when next they responded.

"The AI is down," Omigott said. "Powering down main generators."

"They're still too hot," said Caseon, his second, from one of the consoles next to him. "It's not responding fast enough."

"Activate all auxilliary cooling systems. Get all unessential personnel off this ship!"

Over the next five seconds, the marines and just about everybody else found themselves transported aboard Prophet's Hope. A message telling them that it was for their own safety and that they would be returned to better surroundings when it was safe played when they arrived. The observers in Omigott's room remained.

"She's still getting away from us!"

"Auxilliary cooling systems at maximum!"

"Give me more!"

"How much?"

"EVERYTHING, Borg!"

"But we can only run them for twenty seconds at that rate!"

"Alright! Shut down everything not related to cooling the ship!"

"If we lose life support--!"

"We can still survive for several hours! We need to get this ship cold! Set off the foam bombs in the fire control system! The expanding foam will draw in heat!"

There was a popping sound in the distance. Meanwhile, in the control room, things started to gently shake, and an alarm went off. Gradually, it got higher and higher in pitch.

"Keep to your posts, people! We can do this!"

In space, Prophet's Hope quickly moved to get between the cube ship and the local star, offering shade. Quickly, the hull temperature lowered.

The pitch of the alarm stopped rising.

"Alright! She's starting to come back under control. Keep the cooling system running."

"She's already past her design limit. How much more can she take?"

"You always build 'em a little better than they're designed for, Caseon. That way, you can look like a miracle worker when you survive. Maintain system function."

"Auxilliary cooling at 150% maximum temperature..."

"I don't care how you keep that system going, just do!"

The pitch started slowly to lower.

"140%..."

"It's working! She's coming under control!"

"130%... Red light no circulator three!"

The alarm began to lower in pitch.

"120%... Lights now red on four and six!"

"Main core temperature now 100 units above redline."

"110%..."

"90 Units."

"Circulator 3 is failing."

"80 Units. Shut down number 3."

"60 Units. Looks like she's starting to respond to the reaction inhibitors."

"Circulator three shutting down. 90%. Six still at redline. Four back to normal."

"Throttle auxiliary cooling system back to 100%. Looks like we're winning."

"20 Units...at redline...below."

"Six back to normal range."

"Break out the synthehol, everyone--we did it!"

A cheer rose up in the engineering control room. The cube ship had been fully salvaged.

In five minutes, the back-up generator was activated while the primary regenerated, and the away teams were all beamed back to the exact spots they'd left from. Live support was back on before anybody knew that it had been shut off. Things returned to normal.

Prophet's Hope dropped her weapons, and a message was sent to the Sophia.


Falsus to Doyle. The fire is out. Repeat: the fire is out. Falsus out.


Not long afterward, the cube ship began broadcasting data to Prophet's Hope. This was not tactical information or even technological specifications. It was something the New Borg valued far more: identities. There were also 43 consciousnesses stored on the vessel, and, of these, 27 enjoined immediately. In a way, this was sad--when fully functional, the ship would have been able to support thousands of minds. The small number that remained showed how badly the ship had been damaged.

And it wasn't long after that that Ver was sending a message to the two starship captains with whom he regularly dealt.

"Lady and gentleman," he said, "our main fabricator is running low on energy. We request permission to injest unsalvagable wreckage to replenish our stocks."

Sitting in his command center, Falsus hoped that this would help things along. Doyle, he knew, harbored a deep resentment for his forebears, and, when he had dropped weapons, he had given Zophia an opportunity to do them all some real damage. It was a wonder that the Zophia's combat teams hadn't shot up Prophet's Hope directly after they had arrived--they had certainly been nervous enough. It was a refreshing statement about them that they had trusted their New Borg brothers long enough to be returned to their places of origin with no harm done.

Zophia CIC
Doyle looked at her operations officer as he tapped at his console when the transmission cut out replaced by white noise and static crackles “Damn it!” he cursed out loud checking and double checking his findings

“Mr Flanigan, I want to get that signal back now”

“Its not our end skipper;” he said tying to restore it by boosting the transmission gain; to any passing ship the Zophia would be lit up like a Christmas tree in transmission power. But Doyle had bigger problems to worry about. With the Cubes Reactor still going critical though in truth there was little she could really do except keep her ship in harms way and pray the armour plate held if the cube exploded since she didn’t put much confidence in the shields.

The Cube
The Royal Marines and engineers were certainly nervous about being beamed onto the New Borg Cube; appearing inside a large pack of live walking drones was not something that happened every day. However they all knew that the cube was going critical and that if they’d stayed it was good night Irene plus their new friends had so for honoured their word. Ultimately; the crew of the Zophia were professionals and if their new friends did attack them; then they would kill them in a calm professional manner. This was why Dolye had chosen the combat vets over the greens they wouldn’t panic and start shooting at the first thing that moved. The Main reason though was a deep sense of honour that despite her own misgivings their CO had given her word to give the New Borg a chance to prove themselves and that was good enough for them.

Zophia CIC
“Roger that Falsus, That was a close call” she replied “Take what you need; our bays are nearly full anyway” she said honestly and they had a good haul; in total Two Intrepids, two Defiant’s and two Akira’s plus as many spare parts and materials as they could carry.

“I got it back”, Flanigan said proudly constantly compensating for the low bandwidth of the source transmission; “Channel Open” he said simply

"Praise the ancestors and every god and goddess that ever was, it's good to hear you! Are you from the Federation? Have you come to rescue us? We had nearly lost all hope after the Mechos left. Gory, how many ships do you have? Do you have contact with Starfleet? Would you be able to take us home?", the Voice on the other end spoke from the Zophias speakers.

Doyle smiled to herself; she reminded her of Samantha; always talking to fast with so many questions at a mile a minute; Doyle decided that the truth was probably the best course of action.

“We’re not Federation or Starfleet but we did fight in the war against the Mechos” she replied thinking this must be what they called the Borg. “In Truth our mission here is one of salvage; we’re repairing the ships that can be repaired to use in our fleet and stripping for parts and materials those that can’t be”, Doyle answered truthfully though omitted some information about the Borg Cube that her ships armour was currently shielding.

“As for the question about Starfleet I’m afraid no one has had contact with them; and we don’t know the status of the Federation but If you need a ride home though. We can make room for you; you’ll have to tell our Navigation computer were to go though”, Doyle said with the line constantly crackling which made her frown.

“I’ll tell you what; this line isn’t fantastic; how about I come down to you in a shuttle. That way you can judge for yourself If you want to trust us or not, we don’t have Transporters of any kind on my ship so a shuttle is the best I can do ” Doyle said. It really was the best she could do since she wasn’t sure these people were ready yet to accept the concept of ‘New Borg’ so for the time being it was best to gloss over that; at least for now. Doyle waited for the answer before giving any orders to her crew.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'Mal - Planet's Surface
//I’ll tell you what; this line isn’t fantastic; how about I come down to you in a shuttle. That way you can judge for yourself If you want to trust us or not, we don’t have Transporters of any kind on my ship so a shuttle is the best I can do.//

"Yes, that will work. I'll leave this line open so that you'll be able to triangulate my position. I'm pretty sure there's a field about five kilometers west that's relatively free of debris you could land in. I'll meet you there."

Selinia's fur was standing on end along her spine and there was a trembly tingling sensation surging through her body. She was not quite sure whether it was hope, fear, or simply nerves. She grabbed her pack, careful to step over the power cables this time, and ran as quickly as she could towards the caverns that she called home. What was normally an hour's stroll took her perhaps ten minutes. She slowed to a hasty walk as she entered the cavern mouth, heading towards the lift that would carry her lower. It was a simple wood and rope elevator, forcing her to pull herself downwards until the counterweight took over. As she descended, her lifesigns would disappear from the sensors above, and even the Mechos would be hard pressed to find her due to the odd combination of minerals and alloys that lined the caves, scattering even the tightest bands beyond any resolution.

Her littermate, Reshnik, was waiting for her, as usual. He quirked a brow at her obvious panting, grinning when he realized the probable cause. She returned the grin, raising her hands in victory.

"You contacted them?" he asked as he rushed up to embrace his smaller sister, lifting her in a celebratory spin.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she crowed, laughing happily. "Now set me down! We need to speak with the Elders!"

He did as she bade and accompanied her down the corridor to the central chamber. It was large, the size of a small biodome, with several coridors leading deeper into and under the mountain, providing sleeping quarters, a mess hall, and storage rooms. As Selinia looked over the gathered Gaal going about their daily business, she could not help the awe that still overcame her. Never before in the history of their races had such a conglomeration of species lived in one place, in peace, for so long. Avian, feline, and lupine, living along side lapin, rodent, and mustelid. She grabbed a passing hare child, telling him to fetch the elders and hop quick about it, then continued towards their council chamber with her brother in tow.

It was another ten minutes before all were present, along with every other Gaal who could find a place to sit, stand, or perch. Selinia was very sure that it was nerves that caused her hackles to rise now. She was unused to such attention in a positive and meaningful manner, more used to punishment hearings for her "unauthorized reallocation and wasteful misuse of" the equipment she had used to repair the planetary sensors and communications equipment. The vindication she felt gave her strength of purpose, and she stood tall and proud before them.

"Gathered Elders, I have asked you here to give news of my most recent project." This caused a murmur of discontent to ripple through them. They were certain she had yet again wasted both her time and the vital materials they needed to survive. "I have made contact with a starship orbiting our world. They are sending down a shuttle to meet us."

A collective gasp went through the gathering followed swiftly by shouted questions, accusations, and the inevitable cheers. The Eldest called them to order before speaking.

"Selinia Nimblefingers, what have you done?" the aged leopard demanded. "Who are these people you have contacted? What do they want? Why are they here? And why, in the name of all the ancestors, have you told them of our presence here? They could be pirates! Vandals! They could be the Mechos for all we know!"

"They are not Mechos, and I am not nearly so naive and trusting as you obviously believe. I gave them no indication of our true numbers, telling them only of myself and my littermate. They come to meet we two only. If we find them to be trustworthy and honorable, and only then, will we tell them of the rest. They have even offered to fly us home." She neglected to mention the fact that she had asked for it in the first place, feeling the omission was understandable. "They are salvaging the ships left in orbit. We may even be able to get a few of our own working, if there are any left in enough pieces to fix. Likely, they would be unable to use them, since they have no pilots, and we would be able to get home under our own power."

The Eldest sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, glancing at his compatriots on the Council. "Very well, Selinia. You may go, but if they turn hostile, on your own head be it. We will waste no further resources in this foolish endeavor. The homeworlds will come for us in time."

She gave a quiet snort as she turned on heel and strode from the chambers. Their permission was irrelevant and they knew it; she would have gone even if they had confined her to her den and posted twenty guards. She glanced at Reshnik as he followed beside her, and he gave her a reassuring smile. She had done the right thing, no matter what the Elders thought. They reached the lift in short order and raised it to the surface. It was with high hopes that they set out for the designated meeting point, barely half an hour after contact had been made.

Starfleet HQ, Sol System

Rear Admiral Ramirez stood as he was relief to hear that the ship was not hostile. He was glad that someone would like to be with the Federation after the war.

"I'm glad to recognize you as an ally. If you don't mind, I would like to have a meeting with you and discuss the events that happened. Also, I would like to discuss our new diplomatic relations. We will be joined by Captain Turk Karrigan of the USS Omega. So what do you say?"

Neutral ground to Perius was more to the meaning of ‘lets meetin a place where you are more vulnerable then me’ more so when coming from a Romulan.

He had already broken orders by not forcing them out of the system, John said that the Romulans will be looking for rich worlds after losing there home world and Devenis was a very rich planet.

“Cameron, take control of the Revelation while I head to the space station. That way if I get into trouble the Victoria and Recon can reinforce me in minutes”

He heads off and along the way to the shuttle and points to 5 Security officers to follow him on the way; Confederate Officers undergo a brilliant training program which in a way made them much more surperior then the original Starfleet counterpart, It was the only part of the Confederate Fleet that surpassed the Federation but in Space ground troops do not mean that much.

Cameron sends the coordinates to the Romulan ships, it was in a small observation lounge in the upper decks this was the only area that still had Life Support

The CSS Siren was still near the Romulans and could engage there Fleet at any time.

When Perius and his away team arrived most of them almost vomited, a smell of Decay and blood filled up the entire room....

“Place a mobile force field at that door” the officers did the job quickly, there was a faint noise coming from the other side and all of a sudden it did not seem like such a great idea.

“Now we just wait for our guests to join us” He sits at the table and pulls out a canteen of water and takes a swing.

He expects the Romulans to try and abuse his kindness, but Perius was a war-veteran and simply knew when is the time to fight and when is the time to talk and with the condition of the Romulan Empire I doubt they could rush into a war.

Janeway's Echo
//I'm glad to recognize you as an ally. If you don't mind, I would like to have a meeting with you and discuss the events that happened. Also, I would like to discuss our new diplomatic relations. We will be joined by Captain Turk Karrigan of the USS Omega. So what do you say?//

"Of course," came the immediate response. "That was my mission after all. Are there facilities available for shore leave? Neither myself nor my crew have ever seen your world, and we would be most honored to have the privilege. Please transmit docking and transport coordinates, and we can meet post haste."

Commadore Neera took a deep, calming breath as she stepped onto the transporter pad with her five man escort. Ten seconds later, they materialized in the dark lounge aboard the Federation Station. The smell of death was everywhere, but she had grown as used to it as she thought one ever could. Looking around, she could not help but apreciate the irony. The Federation had always had vast space given over to recreational facillities, for they had prided themselves on their luxury and cultivation. Yet comfortable lounges had not saved them when the Borg came. A few more torpedos in here might have. The battle could have been that close. For a moment Neera laughed silently, then she remembered the dead of Romulus, dead because the Federation had failed to hold, while its expansionist policies had left the other powers to weak to fend for themselves. Anger boiled up, but she forced it down. Not far away, the Federation commander stood waiting, hidden in shadow. He to was acompanied by five armed men. Perhaps this one was not such a fool.

"To whom do I have the honor of speaking? Which great captain of the Federation has come to salvage the ruins of War?" Suddenly she stopped at a faint noise from behind a door.

"What's that?" She carefully eased her disruptor pistol out of its holster, slowly so as not to alarm the Captain or his men. "Is this area not properly secured?" She was remembering an earlier visit to a derelict station. The giant lab rats which had escaped their cages to feed on the bodies of the dead until they were forced to turn on each other had died quite quickly, but there bite had been highly poisonous. She still bore a faint scar on one arm. Around her, her officers hands hovered over their weapons. They remembered, too.

Perius laughs at her comment about security "Security is no longer a luxury in this part of the galaxy"

He looks over towards the door

"My men can handle the situation, this is the only 'neutral ground' I feel comfortable in...ironically" He said looking at his surroundings.

"Now, lets be honest with eachother. You dont like me as I can obviously tell by the fact not only did you bring guards but tried to intimidate me by bringing ones that were more...heavy then was needed, I can guess this is simply Romulan prejudice when coming to the Federation and I am not going to go giving a history lecture. You want to talk galactic affairs and politics at the present them I am more then happy to tell you all the details"

Perius stands and walks torwards the window, to the wreckage of a battle not so long ago.

"I was the captain of a Federation during the last assault on Earth, I do not know if you have heard of me but I am Captain Krusi. I was in command of a Fleet of 21 ships and by the end of that battle I had 2 ships left, Now im here in the middle of deadspace trying to rebuild some sort of presence of the Federation in the sector. The last battle at Earth was a victory so it is very possible the Federation exist's still and the idea is when we secure this sector we will return to Earth to hand over Administration"

Perius takes a deep breath and a drink of water, he finally asks the Romulan to take a seat.

"Now, lets talk Diplomacy"

Slowly Neera holstered her weapon.

"Your right, there is no real security in this part of the Galaxy. Which is why we have every reason to be cautious. Did you expect me to come alone and unarmed? Were you willing to do so yourself?

At the moment, I and the rest of my forces are out here on our own. The Romulan Empire died when the Borg broke through your lines, captain. So any diplomacy is going to be mearly a short-term, informal manner. At the moment, we mearly wish information, and the right to salvage derelicts in this part of space. If that is possible, then we have an agreement. If not, I will return to my ship and withdraw.

Incidentally, if you are not in contact with the Federation, where did you get so many ships? I dont expect you to reveal information about your home base, but perhaps you could tell me whether I am in fact speaking to an officer of the Federation, or a representative of one of the local administrations. What government do you represent?"

Starfleet HQ, Sol System


Janeway's Echo
//I'm glad to recognize you as an ally. If you don't mind, I would like to have a meeting with you and discuss the events that happened. Also, I would like to discuss our new diplomatic relations. We will be joined by Captain Turk Karrigan of the USS Omega. So what do you say?//

"Of course," came the immediate response. "That was my mission after all. Are there facilities available for shore leave? Neither myself nor my crew have ever seen your world, and we would be most honored to have the privilege. Please transmit docking and transport coordinates, and we can meet post haste."


"Excellent. You may dock your ship on Dry Dock 11. We are sending you the coordinates now. I would be very please to show you our world. I will meet you in my meeting room in 1500 hours."

The Rear Admiral didn't mention the amount of damage Earth has taken from the Borg attacks, but he was proud that the planet is still in one piece and this time is the best time to make allies.


USS Omega, Dry Dock 3 in orbit on Earth

Captain Karrigan was ordered to go on the surface in Starfleet HQ. He was to meet with Rear Admiral Ramirez. Before he heads for the surface, he goes through the final checks of the ship's systems via bridge.

"Captain, all set here, I think it's time for you to meet the admiral," Commander Naomi said.

"Just one more minute..." Captain Karrigan said as he taps a console.

"Come on Turk," Naomi, "Or are you scared?"

"Scared of what?" Karrigan replied, "..fine..I'll go now."

"Good."

"Commander," Captain Karrigan said, "Mind if you go with me?"

"Well, alright...I'll hold you're hand until we get there," Naomi said sarcastically.

Karrigan ignored her and heads for the turbolift. Behind him was Naomi and the helmsman who were following him..."Shuttle Bay."

"We get our supply from ships from a shipyard we had taken control of a few years ago, they help repair derelict ships but are only useful when the ships are federation. The local government of this area is called 'The Confederation of Pheni' we are a alliance of several ex-federation colonies who do free-trade and open-borders, also supplying men to join the ranks of the Fleet"

He takes a swing of water.

"I will permit you to salvage the wrecks here, but I cannot allow you deeper into Confederation Space and I will also warn you I was under orders to force any competition out of this area when we arrived so consider you and your crewmen lucky I did not blast you out of the sky for trying to spy on us"

"The only thing we can allow is trade, one thing the Confederation has in great amount is raw materials"

"The first thing we'll need," Ver said, "is a name for this ship. 'Tactical cube 123,775' simply will not do."

"Will we respond to the transmissions from the planet?" Omigott asked.

"No," Ver replied. "We've been through enough for one day. We've lost a good man and a valiant warrior. Let our friends take care of those people. We know how they would respond to us anyway."

It wasn't long before the newly-christened Friendship and Valor had soaked up half the carcasses from the graveyard around her. When it was done, however, she was well on the way to being in top shape, and new bodies had been constructed for the survivors among her crew and several others.

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

"Be advised, Captain Doyle," Falsus' voice said over the comlink, "that, though faint, the power signatures on that transmitter are Gaal. You can expect to find not one but several species on that planet below us--I, for one, didn't believe what your contact said about there only being two survivors for one second. I'm sure, though, that you've got entries for the Gaal in your Starfleet Database. They were pushing for membership until things got hot and heavy, you know.

"We're going to have a memorial service for Legion tomorrow at 1100 hours, standard time. Attendance is voluntary, but my people would appreciate it if you showed up for the eulogy. He was damn good at what he did, and I already miss him.

"Two other matters have come to my attention that should also come to yours. First, the identity database that we recovered from Friendship and Valor has an interesting name on it. It seems that our young and lovely Dulcinea is the sister that you had presumed lost. We are restoring her memories, and it appears that she will be leaving us and staying with you. Second, it appears that your Ensign Roberts has come down with a new disease that we're referring to as the Borg Flu. We New Borg use a weakened variety of nanoprobes. The immune system of a standard humanoid can fight them off in a few days. This is what happened to Roberts. We theorize that he picked them up from...Dulcinea...though we did not know, until now, that the particular," Falsus voice took on a slightly amused tone, "transmission vector by which it came to him was...feasible. I shall say no more, except that he's in your sick bay, that she's right there beside him, and that the only residual effect that anyone is aware of is that each of them can feel some of the sensations of the other's body. I think they're going to need some privacy when your ship's doctor clears him.

"Oh. One other thing. They found my personal identity in the database, too. Though I still prefer 'Falsus of Borg,' if you like, you can address me as 'Zephren Pesho.' That's the name my parents gave me.

"Falsus out."

Neera nodded. The Confederacy was familliar. It was one of several Federation remnants Tomall's fleet had obsereved, either trying to go it alone or else rejoin the Federation. Some were little more than pirates, but from their breif observations, the Confederacy had been much better organized, not to mention heavilly armed. It was disturbing how fast they had expanded, and wiht what firepower. Tomall had raided small colonies for supplies(something Neera had deeply regretted), but he had avoided Confederate space once he saw that they were a match for his fleet. Still, two or more rivel Federation factions opened up a number of opportunities for strtegic manuvering. But that was Vranik's concern, and Tomall's. In the mean time, she had to think of a way to end the negotiation on good terms, but without promising any thing without her superior's consent.

"I thank you for your restraint and courtessy. We will gather what technology and vessels we can, and I will consider your offer of trade. If all goes well, I will contact you within the next twenty-four hours. Until our next meeting, Captain."

So saying, Neera gestured to her men, pressed her communicator button, and ten seconds later she was standing on the transporter pad aboard the Emerald Fire. She was pleased with her progress, but warry of the Captain. There was an edge to him, a sense of bitterness and anger. He had also made his willingness to break orders when it suited him clear (unless, as was likely, he was lying). And those soldiers who had accompanied him bore little resembalence to Starfleet's glorified police men. They were real soldiers. Neera was ashamed to find herself very much hoping that she never found herself against this man in battle.

Perius smiled at Neera "I will await your reply, I should be in the system for another few days" when she went back to her ship he quickly stoodup.

"Now, lets get this thing off" Perius pointed to the force-field and after that opened the door.

The site was disgusting and scared some of the men, the walls covered in dry blood and body pieces all over the ground.

One of the guards pulled out a Tri-corder

"picking up Human, Andorian and Klingon blood. Barely any sign of a fire fight"

"Well thats good, atleast there cause of death is obvious" looking at the bodies gave us the answer, these guys were Civilians and only died recently, 8 months ago at most.

"This must of been a stop-off station" not every colony was able to live alone, mostly the smaller colonies on moons with a population under 1000 had to take desperate measures and take the first ship they could and sail for clear waters. Then they stop off and make camp at every station they can find until they run into pirates, People get killed and pirates move on in fear of retaliation.

"Klingon and Andorian blood tends to mean these guys had protection, must of been a hell of a fight" said one of the men

Perius walks back to the conference room and turns on a console, he opens the black box program and sends it over to the Siren.

It was time like this that made him realise how far the quadrant had fallen, before the war Piracy barely existed in the Federation due to Starfleet and now...they can walk on to a Federation Space Station and completely wipe the place without a care in the world.

He then contacts Jessica.

"How bad is the station?" Perius asked

"We can activate some of the modules, but most of it is beyound repair. We are going to have to send in a team from Confederation Contruction" Jessica replied or what Perius liked to call them 'Hill Billies with Hammers'

Perius walks down the corridore and enters another room, He found a women...breathing!

He contacts the Revelation "We have a Vulcan female, prepare to teleport" he places a translocator on her chest and she beams out, We need to find these pirates and bring them to justice.

He walks out and contacts Cameron again "Beam me up, we will find these pirates and bring them down"

Janeway's Echo
//"Excellent. You may dock your ship on Dry Dock 11. We are sending you the coordinates now. I would be very please to show you our world. I will meet you in my meeting room in 1500 hours."//

Alpha Teshla sent a simple affirmative as they received the coordinates. It was a simple matter for her bondmate to ease them into the dock, though the cabling was somewhat different than he was accustomed to. It took several minutes of careful experimentation before he found a configuration to his liking. He hummed happily his internal fluids and gasses were circulated and refreshed and enjoyed the power feed. Alpha Teshla smiled inwardly, never tiring of her Avian pilot's half-serious, half-playful attitude. The off-key humming over the comm was a little much, but she would rebuke him later if any of the crew complained.

She motioned to Beta Hoarder and Gamma Murlan to join her then headed towards the newly installed transporters. There had been no specific room for them prior to their installation, since the Gaal did not possess such technology until their raid on the wreckage at Vega, so one of the smaller cargoholds had been taken over to house them. Gamma Greenland was still working with them when she arrived.

"Are they functional?" she inquired, eying the strange devices. She was not certain she was comfortable with this technology, but it would be highly useful. "Or rather, will we arrive at our destination with all organs intact?"

He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am, it works just fine. I was just doin' a little fine tunin' 'tween the transporters and the sensors. Coordinates already loaded 'n locked. Just step on the pads. It may feel a little odd, but it won't hurt ya."

She gave a slight shudder as she followed his instructions. He waggled his fingers at her, grinning widely.

"Sync with the Phoenix and energize," she ordered.

It was as though a bucket of cool water had been dumped over her. She could feel it against her skin beneath the fur, and even inside of herself. She gasped, then realized that she was no longer aboard her ship. Instead, she stood in a modestly appointed conference room. She glanced down at the odd sensation beneath her pads, noting the carpet. Her toes curled against it, feeling the strange texture. With a shrug, she glanced around. Beta Hoarder and Gamma Murlan were both with her. Alpha Longfang stood nearby with his vixen Beta and a mustelid Gamma.

"Well... that wasn't so bad," Alpha Longfang chimed, attempting a rakish grin.

Alpha Teshla nodded agreement as she regained her composure, lifting her chin and staring hard into his eyes. Though it no doubt rankled his pride, after a few moments he ducked his head and ears, offering her the proper greeting. She gave the reply, then turned to look over the meeting room, curious eyes wandering over every detail. She hoped the Rear Admiral would not mind that they had both brought some of their officers. Certainly, they would not appear more intimidating than most beings he had no doubt come across. They did not even carry weapons, wearing nothing but the comm/translator collars around their necks and their fur, claw scars across the left side of their chest indicating rank.

CIC
Doyle nodded “alright” she said when the channel went dead. “XO; Prepare a landing team; six Marines, a medic a pilot and myself, Sidearm only” she ordered and Frakes started to make the arguments.

“Skipper; I should remind you that protocol says the captain should not put his or herself at necessary risk” Frakes did protest.

“Protocol also says I should have blown that cube out of the sky the moment we detected it; Protocol is not always right John, Captains Prerogative” she said with a nod standing from her chair and heading for the lift. She arrived at the hanger bay having stopped off at the armoury and picked up a stunner pistol; the pistol itself looked like a cross between a Klingon Disrupter, an old earth Musket pistol with a slightly longer barrel and a Revolver. There were two red crystals on the weapon one in its base and one on either side that glowed. She set her weapon to stun with an audible “Zing” and set it back into her hip holster. The Six-man team was all wearing light tan coloured body armour vests. “Alright lets move”, Doyle was already on her way to the planet in the shuttle when Frakes received the new channel from Falsus.

He ran a hand though his bushy but well-groomed beard; “I’ll be sure to tell the captain when she gets back” Frakes replied “and several of the Marines working on the cube suggested a memorial service. It would be an honour to host it on the Zophia, with your permission” Frakes offered with a smile even though it was hard to read under the facial hair.

He then blinked at the second part about the Captains sister; “Skipper will be very pleased about that; she has no other family” Frakes said. He knew quite a bit about Doyle; more than most did having served with her aboard the Apollo when she was XO and he was a lieutenant under Captain Pike. He wondered how old golden balls was doing as he allowed his smile to turn into an amused smirk. “Do we need any special precautions with this ‘Borg Flu’?” Frakes asked.

Shuttle, Planets Surface
It was a short trip to the surface of the world; the sky took on a distinct and pretty shade of Lavender and in the distance over the Horizon they could see the derelict cityscape dark silhouette as the shuttles door opened the marines went out first; two taking position guarding the shuttle while one remained inside with the pilot. The last two followed Doyle to the meeting point. Doyle used a hand held computer no larger than a PDA to guide her to the meeting point that had been discussed; the device also doubled as a digital camera and a life sign detector.

“Hello?” Doyle called out looking around to see if anyone was around. She knew that the world was home to a species of Animorphs that had several sub-species; this was due to several covert probes sent before the machine war when the navy had the resources to spare; there was never any contact between her people and the Animorphs here but all scans indicated they were peaceful which was why they had elected for no heavy weapons; still she expected to find more than just two survivors.

The pair of anthropomorphic ferrets watched the shuttle descend as they still approached the designated meeting spot. Selinia was a bundle of nerves, her hackles rising with every few paces then smoothing as she soothed herself. Reshnik, on the other hand, was perfectly content to let fate decide what path they would tread, whether to green fields or the stars above. They made no attempt to hide themselves or covertly recon the site as they approached it. Wending their way through the tall grass, higher than their meager three feet, they followed their noses to find the shuttle, tracing unfamiliar scents carried by the light breeze. Captain Doyle's call of interrogative greeting aided them as well, and they stepped into the clearing made by the shuttle's landing with arms spread wide, palms open to face the humans, claws retracted. Both were nude save for the packs upon their backs and the communicator/translator modules affixed to collars around their necks.

"Um... Greetings, travelers," Selinia replied, attempting to reconcile tradition and procedure, neither of which she was much versed in. "Welcome to what remains of Tesh'Mal."

She and her littermate stopped just inside the clearing, holding the poses they had adopted, traditional to show non-hostile intentions and lack of weaponry. Should the humans scan them, they would find only electronics equipment in Selinia's pack, along with a few tool kits. Reshnik's carried several rations and a few items of personal significance. Neither had weapons of any kind aside from those given them by nature.

"We're... uh... we're it," Selinia stated, trailing off. She could but hope that these humans would turn out to be the allies they had once been.

Falsus chuckled. "No, Mister Frakes, no precautions are necessary," he said with a smile. "It's only catching to those who want it. And we would be honored to have you host the ceremony. To tell you the truth, I'm not much of one for formal speeches." Falsus' expression changed, as if new information had become available to him. He paused for a moment, as if taking part in an unspoken conversation. "Oh," he said presently, "and please relay to Captain Doyle also that we will not contest your extraction of Friendship and Valor's technological database. We trust you to use it wisely. Falsus out."

He hoped he hadn't given the wrong impression earlier. There were certain perquisites that came with being a New Borg--so many, in fact, that Dulcinea, even with her memories restored, had chosen to remain a New Borg even though she wouldn't be staying with them physically. Falsus was sure that the powers that be in her government would be very interested in her--both in studying her physiology and in making sure that she didn't "contaminate" any more of their men--but, if he judged Captain Doyle correctly, he knew she would be safe from their prying instruments. And Robertson--he was in for the ride of his life. If he thought that marriage was an intimate relationship...

It was a wonderful, exciting time--a time of new friends, new adventures and new beginnings. And, though he was not a religious man, Falsus, sitting in his command chair, said a silent prayer that all of their meetings, all of their new beginnings, could go as well as this one had so far, even as he lamented the cost that the meeting had extracted. Legion wasn't just a good soldier, he was a warrior and a leader. And Falsus hoped that this would not cost the New Borg and their newfound friends more as time went on.

Perius arrives back at the Revelation and his first order was to contact the USS Wasp.

"I was wondering if you want to join us in chasing down some fugitives who killed Federation Citizens?"

Planets Surface
“Greetings to you” Doyle said with practised diplomacy not even flinching at the appearance of naked bipedal ferret Animorphs; in truth after spending more than a week working with the Borg; they had seen a lot of stranger things; so Naked Ferrets really wasn’t that big a deal. Doyle smiled; trying not to look to scary even though she was flanked by highly trained soldiers.

“So your it?” Doyle said with false acceptance; she knew there was very little chance that two people could survive on this world alone still; she would play along for the sake of diplomacy; “how did you two survive down here?” Doyle asked.

Looking around she could still see the city ruins imposing in the background staring at them with cold neon eyes. “What do you want to know about us, I’ll answer whatever questions I can” Doyle stated matter of fact; her and her team were obviously human to the external appearance. Though there were several differences between humans and Animarnian’s physiologically; the largest of which was the two hearts and an immune system that was damn near impervious to most toxins save Borg nanoprobes. Animarnian’s on the whole though were not easy to assimilate and during the war it was known that some fought the take over like a virus for several days. Then there was the increased strength thanks to there high gravity world which gave them a large advantage in hand to hand combat; but save for the uniforms and the body armour they really didn’t look any different than Starfleet Humans.

CIC
Frakes was busy sat in the captains chair; or “The Big Chair” as many called it; he was tapping away on a touch pad flat panel computer. The Memorial would be held on the hanger deck and they had arranged for a torpedo to be disarmed so that they could launch it into space through the flight tubes even though there was no actual body in it; it was mostly symbolic. Most of the Marines would attend and as many of the crew that could be spared who weren’t critical to operations; the Marines felt like they’d lost one of there own and would carry out there own death rituals in there private time. Death was treated very differently in Animarnian culture; even though many were sad to lose a colleague Death was no mourned by those left behind but Life was celebrated; they weren’t sad because it was over; they were happy because it happened at all. Still they doubted the Borg would understand this aspect of their culture so the memorial would be a more formal sombre affair, which Frakes was arranging for when the captain returned.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
Selinia dropped her hands, Reshnik following. They were not going to be shot on sight, at least.

"How did you two survive down here? What do you want to know about us, I’ll answer whatever questions I can.”

Selinia decided to follow an old axiom to answer her question: A lie is best swallowed when swathed in truth. "When the Mechos came, we hid in the caves." She gestured in the general direction of one of the closer, unoccupied caverns. "They masked us from the Mechos sensors. There were food stores there, for the winter, enough to feed the entire city. With just the two of us, we've made it last as best we could. I've been coming up topside every month for a little over two years now. I got some of the planetary sensors working and I've been scanning for ships. You're the first that I've detected. Took me a week to get that bloody transmitter working. Sorry for the scratch signal. I'm not that great with electronics."

She allowed the insides of her ears to flush slightly with embarrassment, adding sincerity to the self-deprecating admission. She sniffed carefully towards the captain, her brow wrinkling as she caught a purer scent.

"As for questions, what exactly are you? You're not quite human, though your scent is close. Bit stronger, but close. Also, how many ships do you have? Do you have a Federation database? I know you said you weren't Federation, but if you're salvaging ships, I know that's one thing I'd go after. And... well, have you run into any Borg? It's a little much to think that it's finally over, but after three years of relative quiet, one begins to hope."

There was no time to wait for a reply, Perius sits next to the bed of the women. She had been stablized but only barely.

"Hello, can you tell me your name please?" Perius was trying to be as gentle as possible, but it was a trait that had been neglected.

"Diana Fugal, where am I?" she looked around and realised she was in a Federation vessel.

"I never thought I would see one of these ships again"

"You a member of starfleet?"

"No, but my father was. I grewup on a Galaxy ship as a civilian"

"Do you remember what happened? that was a blood bath back there"

"It happened so fast, we were from a small outpost station but were forced to run after the pirate attacks finally damaged most of our weapon systems. We tried to make it to Regulus but our warp core was far to damaged so we only could come to the Station. We only have 8 phasers and 2 Rifles so when the pirates arrived they came and killed the men and stole our ship and supplies. The replicators failed due to the lack of power and we slowly starved, I only survived because of sheer disipline"

"Did they mention where they were from?"

"They mentioned something about Miridrian"

Perius paused, that was a known Pirate base of operations. Perius had his experiance with Pirates they Pillaged and Raped all in there path in search for resources.

"You stay in here, we are going to have a talk with these pirates"

Perius walks out with Cameron at his side.

"What ships are you going to take?" Cameron asked

"Only this one, about time these pirates got what has been coming to them ever since they spat on the memory of the Federation" Perius had allot of anger in his voice, Pirates disgusted him the most.

Perius pressed his badge "full warp to the Miridian system, then activate cloak as soon as we enter. We all know the drill people, get this ship to red alert" Red lights flashed along the walls and people started to move around.

Perius himself re-organised the fleet during the formation of the Confederation and it was about time to see what it's ships could do.

(ooc: :) I'll RP your pirates for you to make it more interesting if thats alright Phi)

Meridian Pirate Base (As Pirates)
The base was an old run down outpost of Klingon design; started during the brief Federation Klingon war and gutted during the Borg War; the Pirate power-base was around the neutral zone; praying on small cargo ships for supplies. The Scavengers as they called themselves were a mixed rank of Romulans, Klingons, Humans and Ferengi; the operated three upgraded Birds of Pray for raiding and a K’Tinga class Kirk Era battlecruiser was there only capital ship; not that they needed much firepower to take there prey.

The Pirate Leader was a large muscled human with a shaven head and long moustache; the leader dwarfed even some of the largest Klingons they were quietly unloading there latest ill-gotten gains using the cargo Transporters.

“Good haul!” said a pirate dressed in civi’s covered in dirt of some kind or another; the pirates regularly raided cargo ships moving men and equipment of supplies. Today they had found a nice ship filled with Benerdite crystals; a valuable commodity who were transported a group of refugee’s as a bonus; they’d killed the men by flushing them out of an air lock one at a time. The young women though they had taken prisoner they’d be locked in the rape farms for the pleasure of the pirates.

“I can’t wait to get me some of that arse” said the pirate unloading while eyeing a blonde girl no older than 16 “I like a nice tight..” he was stopped short by a swift smack to the back of the head. Near the edge of the system laying in wait under cloak were three birds of pray; waiting to respond to any threat that entered there system or go out on there next raiding party..

Planets Surface
Doyle smiled and nodded; Good sense of smell; should have figured that one out she chuckled to herself with the answer from the Ferret girl. ‘Always hide a little truth in a lie; it makes the lie more believable’ that’s what Captain Sheridan had taught her in the navel academy and she had no doubt it applied here. Doyle knew she wasn’t being told the whole truth but certainly wasn’t going to push for it; after all trust was earned.

“Well with the state of most equipment on this rock; you did a great job getting it working at all” Doyle complemented playing to the girl’s ego. “As for my species we’re Animarnian’s; we’re mostly human but with a few improvements in physiology” Doyle answered “But for the most part no one would tell the difference” she added with a smile.

“We Currently have one ship in this system; a Yuji Class Battle-star and Yes; we do have a federation database; got one from an Intrepid in orbit also acquired an EMH” Doyle said with a slight grin; the EMH had proved to be very helpful and since sentient holograms were treated as people in the navy he was very happy.

“As for the Borg; We’ve had no contacts for three years; and we’ve only come into contact with wreckage thus far though we did come into contact with a Borg Splinter group a while back who are free people from the collective trying to make peace” Doyle Said with a smile.

The Cube
Marcus Holms was a genius with computers; she was typing away at one of the main data consoles at near superhuman speed; looking over data from the main core. “Hey” he said to one of the Borg units assigned to his team for safety reasons more than anything else; “I found something interesting on here…it looks like a hugely advanced compression algorithm; seems that when the cube was failing a large chunk of data was compressed into a single file. “ he said curiously typing.

“Can you guys help me decompress this?” he asked. Brilliant though Marcus was; he was not Borg; and playing around with this cube thus far had not been all together wise

(OOC:thats fine with me)

Miridian System, outer regions

We exit warp and turn on the cloaking device, weapons fully armed and ready. He had killed pirates before but this was the first time he was on the attack.

"activate Borg sensors, full power to scan the entire system for ships" he also knew borg senors would give the pirates one hell of a scare and would allow them to take advantage of the panic.

"When you find your first ship, destroy it" Perius was here to make a point known to all of the pirates, That they had somebody to answer too.

Cameron smiled and said "Klingon Bird of Prey, Shield Frequency 125.532 this will be easy" he locks on to the target and a torpedo's are prepared to hit the ship right in the bridge and engines then to be boarded by Confederate Soldiers.

They used there cloak to go right above the Klingon ship, Klingon sensors were made to detect enemies and we were using Klingon cloaking so hopfully they would not notice us.

Perius sent a private message to the ship before they fired.

"Surprise" he whispered while the ship de-cloaked, activated the Borg Tractor beam and then fires rapidly at the ships bridge and engines.

Perius laughs as he said to himself "Resistance is Futile"

Ten professional soldiers board the vessel, more then a match for a bunch of untrained and barely armed pirates.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
“We Currently have one ship in this system; a Yuji Class Battle-star and Yes; we do have a federation database; got one from an Intrepid in orbit also acquired an EMH.”

Selinia's jaw dropped at this last. She hastily closed it, swallowing the drool that had sprung up. Electronics were not her specialty by any stretch of the imagination. Programming and holographics in particular, on the other paw, were her greatest passion. She had wanted to get her hands on an EMH since she first heard of them. The sheer volume of possibilities that sprung from a sentient computerized entity made her head spin. It was a few moments before the import of Captain Doyle's next words sank in.

“As for the Borg; We’ve had no contacts for three years; and we’ve only come into contact with wreckage thus far though we did come into contact with a Borg splinter group a while back who are free people from the collective trying to make peace.”

"A splinter group?" Reshnik inquired, obviously confused. "Free from the collective? Isn't that an oxymoron?" He paused for a moment, thinking over the possibilities. "I mean, I suppose there could be a secondary subcollective created, possibly an off shoot caused by the Hugh Borg. The 'individuality virus' could have been covertly spread amongst them, though I've no doubt that the majority of them would have been expunged immediately..." He trailed off, his fingers dancing against each other as his mind flitted between multiple theories.

Selinia was uninterested in such things. "So, there's some rogue Mechos roaming around talking peace, eh? I'd be surprised if they never learned subterfuge. They're built to adapt, after all." The snarl left her lips as she gave her head a shake. "Well, no matter. They're not here, at least. If you could give me access to that database, I can help you plot a course towards our home, and if there are any Gaal wrecks up there, it'd go a long way towards starting up diplomatic relations if you left them reasonably in tact, or could tow them with us. So... uh... yeah..."

She trailed off, not sure what else to say.

(Pirate Base, As Pirates)
“Send the call for…” his order was cut off a microsecond after the transmission was sent as the bridge exploded around him. The first Bird of pray was hit when the enemy torpedoes struck it head on; this particular bird of pray crippled the crew however in other parts of the ship put up a valiant effort. The Kilngons particularly since there armour absorbed some of the phaser hits and defused them even on kill setting; it was a well know fact that even drunk Klingons were the best fighters in the galaxy the Pirates used pulse disrupter rifles to attempt to repel the borders.

Meanwhile two of the Birds of pray sitting nearby heard the call of help and approached at maximum impulse; Even the Klingon sensors detecting the Borg Components of the unknown ship in there system. “Rotate shield and weapon modulation!” the commander yelled.

“Attack Vector Seven” the Romulan officer in charge of the bird of pray ordered; the Two Birds of pray began a classic harry Manoeuvre where one Bird of Pray would circle around to the rear while another circled around to the flank and would take turns hitting the enemy ship. The Two Birds of Pray powered up their disrupter pulse cannons and Salvaged Disrupter banks. The Green light arcing out towards the unknown ship that attacked them followed by balls of Green; the Pirates were targeting the Borg sensor array and enemy power core; since this would give them the best advantage.

Planets Surface (As Animarnian’s)
Doyle had to stop herself from grinning like an idiot as she saw the ferret girl’s eyes light up as she mentioned the EMH. “I can do that” she said with a nod as she slowly took out her PDA sized computer so as not to alarm her guests save they think she was going for a weapon. She tapped on its touch screen for several moments before it projected a large 17-inch computer display in mid air. She typed at it several times before the Federation Logo appeared on the holographic screen with the LCAR’s interface overlay; “Touch the screen to make it do what you want” she said with a smile.

“As for your ships; if any are up there; they’re yours; we did encounter a few vessels of unknown origin that we couldn’t identify the technology base from; they could be Gaal, we couldn’t repair them and the parts were incompatible so we didn’t strip them either”

"We'd be honoured to open Diplomatic Relations with your people; though the Zophia is hardly built for Diplomacy" This was true, the Zophia was designed to be a warship with few luxuries it was clear just by looking at it that it was designed to pretty much annihilate anything in its path as quickly as possible

The CSS Siren pulls out of warp and hails the Revelation.

"Lets party Perius" Jessica said.

Perius hailed the pirates "This is the CSS Revelation of the Confederation of Pheni, lower your weapons and surrender your ships. All fighting back is doing is pro-longing the inevitable"

The ships attack, but birds of prey were vastly outdated by the Akira class vessel and in the end stood no chance.

Cameron laughs "there targeting our sensors, permission to fire?"

The Revelation fires a torpedo that rips through the wings of one of the Birds of Prey, Re-modulating shields are good but when you know the timing you can hit the shields at there weakest. Shielding had to weaken and then restart when changing frequency.

---Onboard the Klingon Vessel---
The away team consisted of 7 Andorians and 3 Humans, Andorians made most of the ground soldiers of the Confederation. There phasers fire with deadly precision and the natural soldier spirit of a Andorian made them perfect for this more military based Security that was needed in such dangerous times.

Klingon resistance was stubborn they were warriors but warriors are untrained and only improve with experiance...A bunch of Klingons fighting defenceless citizens meant very little to there reputation.

The Andorian Squard leader yells "Not so great when fighting againts people who can defend themselves are you?!"

The plan was not to capture the vessel, but to enter the databanks and look into things like recent warp routes seeing where other possible pirates could be hiding. You only make money from resources when you can trade them.

They kill 2 defenders on the way, making there way to engineering.

---The CSS Siren---
The ship was old, but the Siren had never let Jessica down yet. She headed towards the K'Tinga vessel which was yet another prime example of bad design.

"Fire at the neck, choke the vessel" The ships dives under and then shots up under the klingon vessel firing all weapons at the section, These pirates were fighting againts war veterans.

The Siren rolls around and fires from the back into the ship, each torpedo taking in shield data from the last reading. The beauty behind Borg Technology, the weapons can adapt.

"Omigott to Data Recovery. We're getteeng a mahsive spiek een CPU usage. Aneetheeng you're not telleeng us?"

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
“Touch the screen to make it do what you want. As for your ships; if any are up there; they’re yours; we did encounter a few vessels of unknown origin that we couldn’t identify the technology base from; they could be Gaal, we couldn’t repair them and the parts were incompatible so we didn’t strip them either. We'd be honoured to open Diplomatic Relations with your people; though the Zophia is hardly built for Diplomacy.”

Selinia pondered the map for a few minutes, getting her bearings, then enlarged an area. Picking out Vega, she decided this as the best place to find her people outside of their home world. If they had gone anywhere since the end of the war, it would be there.

"There," she stated, stabbing a finger at the former Federation colony. "That's where we need to go. As for ships, just let me lay eyes on them, and I can tell you if they're ours. We've got rather... unique ship design." Her fingers danced over the display once more, pulling up a few select areas, taking care not to focus on her main target, nor to indicate which worlds she was actually looking for. "And unless you're a bunch of simpering fools, which it doesn't look like so far, the build of your ship will have little bearing on how you are received by my people."

She recentered the map on Vega, nodding to herself. This would be the best hope of contact outside of going directly to the home worlds. If the Gaal had not yet returned to Vega, then they had likely been reduced beyond anything she had feared.

"Don't worry though. I'll put in a good word for you."

(As Pirates)
The Birds of Prey; were not entirely helpless; in fact they were holding there own for the most part against ships nearly twice there size taking efficient use of there ships agility over there foe. While it was true the enemy was scoring phaser hits; torpedo hits were much less and the shields were holding and taking every advantage in the loss of agility of the Akira since they were holding a bird of pray in the tractor beam. The K’Tinga however did not fare so well; its shields overwhelmed with the first few hits it was no match for modern weapons as the ship flew apart in a brilliant explosion. The Birds of Pray were now dancing back and forth in no set pattern scoring strafing run hits on there opponents when possible. On the Bird for pray currently being boarded the Pirates put up a valiant effort; most of them were untrained brutes but some of them were war veterans and it was plane to see in the fighting which were which.

Still it was only a matter of time till the Starfleet scum breached Engineering. The Chief Engineer pressed a button on his command console; the thing about holding the Bird of Pray in its tractor beam was its proximity to the Akira, the Tractored Bird of Pray went into engine overload it would explode in seconds. As the Bird of Pray exploded the other two used the momentary sensor flash to escape covering there Warp trails and leaving whomever was left on the station…

(As Animarnian’s)
The Cube
“Mr Omigott We’ve got something here; it’s a highly compressed data file. We think it might be a neutral ghost” Marcus replied unsure if the Borg even believed in such things.

Planets Surface
Doyle openly smiled this one was sneaky; her responses were trained well; she was definitely a lot more than she let one; and she was doing a very good Job; even for Doyle who was trained to pick up on these little things it was difficult for her to read the Ferret Girl; or what she was looking for exactly. Doyle had a good idea thanks to her instincts but could not be certain; it was all guess work. “Well” she said; “long as they don’t start shooting at my ship; I’ll consider it a good first contact, any first contact you walk away from is a good one my instructor used to say” Doyle joked to lighten the mood; still she wondered just how the Gaal would react to the sight of a very heavily armed 850 meter long battleship turning up on there doorstep. Academy nuggets used to joke about the battle stars nickname of ‘slow moving death’ since they had enough firepower to depopulate a M class world by themselves in under two hours.

“Well if you need repair teams then my people will be happy to help” Doyle said with a nod

The O.S.SMarathon was in warp, Her captain Jack Spader looked over his reports, so many things happening lately. The Orion Star Systems had made little progress, its still resources coming from trading. Damn, if the Federation never split they wouldnt be in this position, but what was done was done. They had heard a report of a nearby Borg cube, they thought it was just a dead cube from the war, but none the less they would investigate. The former excelsior class federation ship kept on her voyage towards the borg.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
“Well if you need repair teams then my people will be happy to help.”

Selinia returned the nod. "Unfortunately, our ships don't work quite the same as any other race we've come across. There's a key piece that we need, and we can't get it here. So, if they're dead, they're gonna stay that way until we can get in contact with my people."

She glanced around, rising onto tip paw to see over the grass. Mustelids, unlike most Gaal races, walked with their full foot to the ground, both heel and toe touching with each step. Rising into a digitigrade posture gave her an extra foot of height. She gave a slow turn, surveying the world that had been her home for almost a decade and had nearly become her final resting place. With a shiver that traveled down her long, slender frame, she dropped back down. With a soft chuff, she resettled her pack, puffed out her chest, and stepped towards Captain Doyle with an extended hand. Reshnik followed suit, still mumbling to himself. He was only peripherally aware of his sibling, but he was quite used to mimicking her lead.

"Well, Captain Doyle, Selinia and Reshnik Nimblefingers, at your service." She smiled up at the taller female as they shook. Her ears tucked, flushing once more as she added, "I... um... I don't suppose I could... y'know... have a look at that EMH, eh?"

The explosion damaged the lower decks and almost destroyed the tractor beam and sensors, the Siren and Revelation move towards the space station and circle it.

They blast the hell out of it to lower the shielding, getting ready to board.

Perius hails Jessica "Get your best teams together and board the space station, this is confederate space now"

50 men board the space station, including Cameron who was there commander.

They quickly deposed of the first wave of guards, but it was the first room they entered that sickened them.

"A rape farm" one of the guards said as Cameron entered, he planted a transmitter on the ground to the room.

The women looked pale and very much in another frame of mind.

"Every in this room is being beamed to our ship, your being freed from this place and taken back to home base"

In flashes of blue light everyone who was not a member of the security team was beamed out of the room, there was about 75 women in here and the last Cameron saw was a beautiful girl of about 16 years of age who mouthed a 'thank you' and he smiled back.

"Arrest everyone you dont kill, they are about to get a taste of there own medicine"

The freed about 2 more rooms, found multiple stolen contriband and eliminating all resistance with only 6 deaths.

Cameron had taken 15 men into the Command Centre, there he saw a huge Klingon knowing this was obviously the leader he replied.

"You are under arrest, you are to face trial under cofederate law and resistance results in instant death. This space station is to be put under Confederation control" they all pointed there weapons at the leader and his guards, Cameron toke a step back behind the first troops since naturally they would go for him first.

Planets Surface
“Well I suppose that’s up to him” Doyle said with a smile; “holograms have full rights under Animarnian law; but we can head to the Intrepid in Orbit and find out if you don’t mind a shuttle ride” Doyle offered shaking the girls hand and offering a snap salute.

“We’ll have to stop off at my home world to drop off our cargo first before we can head out to Vega; Pirates are everywhere and these supplies are too valuable to us to lose. Granted you’d have to be a psychotic Klingon on angel dust to try and take on the Zophia but I have no doubt that there are those out there insane enough to try” Doyle explained; “after that its about 10 to 12 days to Vega from here” Doyle added. Not entirely sure of the exact time without a Jump Computer in front of her but confident enough to hazard a guess; “After that we’d be happy to escort any convoy back from your world to here so that you can salvage the wrecks. We can have another battle star picket this area to protect them till we get back since its gonna take a few runs to salvage everything here anyway; looks like Starfleet put up one hell of a fight for this system”

Vranik sat calmly while he waited for the delegation to be seated. In his mind, he ran over the speech he was planning to make. If it went over well, today would be a turning point for his civillization, or the birth of a new one. If it was rejected, he would likely be in front of Tomall's firing squad by the end of the year. And he would not resist. Better that Romulans should be whole and strong than torn by civil war. But it had not come to that yet. Rising, he faced the assembled council, let his gaze sweep over them, meeting every eye. Then, with a deep breath and a prayer to any God that might be watching over him and his people, he began.

"Welcome to this, the fourtieth formal meeting of this Council. Today is a historic occasion. You have all seen the reports from Commadores Neera and Panak. Neera has made contact with a Federation splinter group known as the Confederacy.

I understand there has been much concern on this count. Many blame the Federation for what befell Romulus. For my self, I believe the Federation fought with every means at their disposal. But there failiure illustrates a critical point: the Romulan people may choose to alley with other powers when it is to our benefit, but we must never again be dependent on others for our security. Which brings me to the fundimental point of this council.

I have held the government of this system for three years in the Praetor's name. And always, I waited for the day that the Empire would return to welcome us home. But all evidence indicates that this day will not come. Panak's fleet has found no trace of a colony stronger than ours, or with any hint of legitimate Romulan Government. So today we face two choices: to cling to the past until we whither away, or to take action and declare today the creation of a new state, based in this collony, to best ensure the future survival and strength of the Romulan people."

For a moment there was stunned silence. Then half of the room rose with angry shouts. Vranik let the shock and outrage subside, then held up a hand. Signalling out one specific question, he rose and adressed it in a calm voice.

"You question my motivations, Councilor? That is understandable. The Romulans are a people of proud traditions. I have allways taken pride in maintaining all those I could during these dark times. I propose this step not because I seek power, but because I seek the survival of a unified Romulan people. If the Praetor appeared today and demanded my resignation, I would step down. But that day will never come. I ask again, will we cling forever to the past, or will we show the true strenght, courage, and cunning which made our Empire great?"

Now Tomall rose, and it was evident that he could barely control the mix of shock, outrage, and fear etched on his face. Vranik had taken a risk by informing none of the Council of his desision in advance. The shock had denied him potential allies who had not had a chance to make up there minds, but it had caught Tomall off guard. The incoherence of his argument soon reflected that fact.

"I,...I do not...I do not feel it is advisable to act in such a manner. Such a decision, so rash, so soon, will lead to disunion among our people. What...What if the Praetor should be found? Will this man cling to his new-found power?"

"The answer to that question is simple, Admiral. If contact is made with a legitimate Imperial government, I will resign, and I will state as much in the Constitution of this new nation. On my honour as a Romulan."

"Can we trust your honour?"

"Did you think of honour so much when you took to pirating your fellow Romulans at gunpoint, Admiral? When you sought to usurp my rightful authority over this collony? Have you forgotten already?"

"Your false state could not exist without my fleet. Any security you have gained comes from my allegiance. The alleigiance of a soldier to his Empire." He turned to the council, and tears were in his eyes.

"Don't listen to this politician. You are Romulan. Listen to our traditions, our Empire."

Vranik raised a hand to speak.

"Tomall, I have the greatest respect for your services to this collony. But the council has to choose. We can cling to the past, while we degenerate into simple pirates, or we can look to the future, and remain Romulans."

Tomall spun, and any trace of decorum was gone. His face was twisted; he was near raving.

"Liar! Traitor! You will turn your back on our people and traditions. On our Empire! You cannot listen to this liar."

Vranik smiled, because he knew it would make Tomall angry, but more because he knew he had already won. He had made the choice personal, between him and Tomall, and he had goded Tomall to irational fury while he played the calm and measured leader. He had demonstrated his rival unfit for rule, and he had done it publicly. He could see the tide turning on the Councilor's faces. Yet despite his words, he felt a measure of uncertainty, and he breathed again a silent prayer, both of gratitude, and guidence. He was a patriot, and he would never have sought power if he had believed that the Empire still remained. He had kept his oath as a Governor, but now it was time to look to the future. He regretted what he had done to Tomall. The man was an excellent soldier. But he had not understood the need for politics. He was a skilled player; it was simply that he had been playing the wrong game.

OOC: Watch for doubled up posts.
OOC: Watch for doubled up posts.

:) :) :)

IC:

"Don't you mean 'neural ghosts,' my boy?" Omigott replied, still speaking so that those deprived of the elegance of the collective could understand him, and still talking with the same lilting accent he had always used. Still, a shadow of tiredness was starting to cross his face. He had been working on Friendship and Valor for over twelve hours now, and the strain was starting to show. "Not that we could pull off such a thing. Tell you what, let me look at that...blaugh! You're right! This is a cluster of consciousnesses! Do you have a count on that?"

"Not yet. Hundreds. Maybe thousands."

"Amazing. That compression ration exceeds the theoretical limit on..."

"Going to have to change our theories now, aren't we?"

"I suppose. More importantly, however, we're going to have to find a way to tell Falsus and Ver that our population problem just got a little--."

"This is not a problem, brother," Ver said. "We know."

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


Falsus to Frakes:

Incoming transwarp signature. We're going to have company. I'd guess
Federation remnant, but I can't be sure.

Falsus out.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
“After that we’d be happy to escort any convoy back from your world to here so that you can salvage the wrecks. We can have another battle star picket this area to protect them till we get back since its gonna take a few runs to salvage everything here anyway; looks like Starfleet put up one hell of a fight for this system.”

Her ears tuck back once more as she dips her muzzle. "You could see it from here. It looked like the end of the universe up there." She gave herself a shake, resettling her short fur, her earlier perky attitude returning. "Well, all aboard, eh? I can't wait to talk with that EMH." She rubbed her hands together, emitting a girlish giggle. She paused, adding. "What do you guys eat then?" She continued towards the shuttle, chattering on. "Do you have sweets? Oooh, there's this human sweet I had once, called eye scream! I dunno why the called it that, but it was... glorious! There's chocolate and vanilla and..."

Captains Log: We are heading back to Station 23 after our fight in the Miridian system to Free captives, In these dark times the Confederation must make a stand to fight these pirates until they have not one place left to hide.

Cameron walks into the Cargo room where the women were resting, allot of psychology and Physical damage had been done and he was afraid there was little he could do.

He was trained as a doctor but during the war was forced to become a captain after the Federation found out his skill after a brief fighting moment, They saw him being a doctor as a ‘wasted resource’ so forced him to take command of the USS Victoria. But he did love being in command, but he also misses working in Sickbay.

Most of the women have broken cervical bones and multiple bruises, he scans one by one until he reaches the young lady he saw on the station.

She asks “What is your name?”

“Cameron Cook, Head of Security and Commander of this star ship. Where are you from?”

“I was born on the moon, but was evacuated before the attack on Earth. I was living on a small colony until the pirates found and captured us”

“What did they do to you?”

“I was lucky, they only really rape women when they reach the farms and I have only been there an hour before you arrived. The colony was completely destroyed and only a few made it out alive”

He puts his tricorder away

“What is your name? As we are getting to know eachother”

“Jennifer, Jennifer Howard”

“Well you seem fine, except for a few bumps on your arms”

“So tell me about yourself? You married?”

Cameron frowns a bit and quickly ends the conversation, The past should only be in the past.

“I have others to checkup on, call if you need me” he stands and walks towards the next women, some stories are better left in a vault.

---Captains Quarters---
Perius sits down and starts reading up on the latest reports in the Confederation, apparently Regulus has received 600,000 Colonies since we last arrived most of them contruction workers.

It had been a month since Regulus, Perius had grown so tired these last 3 years that a Month could seem like a few days ago.

The Confederation was not going the way we had agreed at the first calling of the council, when we all signed a charter.

It was becoming clouded and John's intentions have become more aggressive and it is possible another civil war like the one the Confederation was founded on could start again.

Diana enters the room and sits down, she had recovered well and now she got some food into her looked allot better.

"It was not a good idea to attack Miridian, all you have done is enraged the pirates"

"The Confederation has a fleet more then capable of engaging the pirates, they have kept it safe so far. When we hit Devenis they stand no chance"

"I have never heard of Devenis"

"Not many people have, it was founded a year before the war. It was originally outpost but after a huge amount of resourcse was found it became a Mining Colony, It is the richest system in this sector and most likely the surrounding sectors. But planet is still being slightly terraformed since the highest tempreture is still 23 Celcius"

"You have my gratitude, Federation captain" she walks off, knowing that she stroked the right place.

Perius turns and looks out the window "Well, this should be interesting" He said thinking of the victims.

(OOC: Doing this is a sorta BUMP)

---Devenis, Confederate Capital---
1 man enters the chamber and walks towards the desk, Sitting at the desk is John who was the 'Governor-General' of the Confederacy.

"I did not expect to see you here so soon, what news do you bring?" John said, only half interested.

"The Revelation and Siren fought several pirates in the Miridian System, you do understand our arrangement? You know how much those resources were worth! and now we cant attack the station because they have a security team in control, Perius is getting way ahead of himself"

"Those captains are under my control, they have no contact with Earth they have no contact with the Federation. They need me to give them a purpose and that reason for being is to keep these people 'safe' in the end they have no choice"

"Your trying to force control over one of the most respected men in Stafleet, this man lead several fleets to victory during the war and his reputation far outstands a Governor of a backwater colony. Your playing with fire allowing him to be head of the fleet"

John walks over to the other side of the room, where he puts his hand over a flag which dipicted earth....with a sword going down the middle.

"I have seen a new way of things and I will not turn back, The Confederation is already one of the most stable powers in the quadrant and you expect me to take warning from you? some idiotic Pirate trying to threaten me with war! I made that agreement 3 years ago because the Confederation lacked the supplies to stand for itself" John then points to the sky.

"I now have a fleet 4 times your size and 30 times your fire power, you dont hold influence over us anymore. One thing me and Perius both share is our hatred for are you pirates"

The man was taken back "You cant seriously want a war after all of this?" this was a change of tone, one of peace and reason, a voice of a fool who just realised his limits.

"You kill harmless Terrains and Aliens on a daily basis and your saying you dont want to fight?" John pulls out a phaser and aims it at the Pirate.

"Not so strong when the other is armed are you! Come on and attack me coward, prove your worth DEFEND YOUR HONOUR!"

The pirate leader stood there, shaking.

"You kill me and my fleet will be on Devenis like a ton of bricks, you might have a large fleet but can it arrive back in time to defend it?"

"Do you not understand? your ship has been detained and your crew is now in custody. You are about to be taken out by 4 guards and escorted out." John sits down and starts to read as the door opens, the guards take him out.

He then opens communications with Perius on the Revelation.

"Captain, it's about time me and you have a little talk. Make your way back to Devenis ASAP, we have urgent matters to attend too"

"If you insist John" Perius turns off the screen and walks towards the window.

"This situation just keeps getting better and better" he then makes the command and the ship enters warp speed, leaving Jessica in control of the salvage operations.

Planets Surface
Doyle laughed out loud as they made the walk back to the shuttle with there two guests in tow; “We Eat lots of things; most of the food on my homeworld is grown and prepared naturally in underground hydroponics areas. When we’re ship side we use Fabricators to create raw energy into food. I’m sure we can make you some Ice cream when we get to the Zophia unless you want to stop off on the Intrepid first of course to talk to the EMH, your choice” Doyle said with a nod. The general atmosphere now much lighter than before; any first contact you walk away from is a good one.

“OH Do you want some clothes of something?” Doyle Asked; and tapped her ear piece communications unit.

“XO, We’re coming up and bringing the survivors with us, we’re probably going to visit the Intrepid first; so tell our teams there to prepare for us” Doyle said and nodded to whatever reply was given as they reached the shuttle

CIC, Zophia
Frakes nodded and closed the Communications line; then opened a new channel to the New Borg ship. “Falsus, I need to ask you a favour; we’re bringing up the survivors do you think you could move your cube and the salvaged one behind the Dark side of this planets moon; since I doubt they’d react to any Borg very well”

(Sorry for my absence. Been watching the footie )

"If you don't mind," Falsus replied, "I'd prefer to send back your people and return to our asteroid, now in distant orbit. We seem to have found the most precious of treasures aboard Friendship and Valor, Frakes: an archive of, for lack of a better term, souls. We want to look it over, to confirm the find and conduct a basic census, and we'll need all of our resources for it. You have my word that we'll do everything in our power to repatriate any of those we find who are from among your people and wish to return, and will inform you of any who wish to stay with us. Is this acceptable?"

"I'd ask why you're asking him," Bortu sent through the collective, "but you'll probably come up with some 'trust' or 'good faith' thing just to make me mad."

"I wouldn't do something like that," Falsus replied. "You'd be mad no matter what I told you."

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
“We Eat lots of things; most of the food on my homeworld is grown and prepared naturally in underground hydroponics areas. When we’re ship side we use Fabricators to create raw energy into food. I’m sure we can make you some Ice cream when we get to the Zophia unless you want to stop off on the Intrepid first of course to talk to the EMH, your choice.”

Selinia nods excitedly, the thought of fresh food and fresh technology bringing out her inner nature, despite the guarded wariness she kept in the forefront of her mind. Like their feral cousins, the Gaal ferrets were instinctively curious, had the energy of a five year old human on a sugar high, and generally had about as much common sense as one. Their curiosity had a habit of getting them into trouble, more often than not. Mustelids were not often found in the Gaal fleet or military other than as spies or assassins.

“Oh, do you want some clothes of something?”

Both ferrets gave her a confused look. "Why? Do we need them? Is it cold on your ship?"

Cameron walks down the corridores towards his quarters, It was getting late but he could not sleep because Devenis was under a hour away.

He enters with a fright, the 16 year old girl stands in the room.

"You should be in bed, we will be arriving in Devenis soon an...."

"You did not answer my question, are you married?"

The question was weird, why did she want to know so much about my personal life.

"I was in a relationship during the war, but thats history. Now leave this room or I will call security to escort you"

She was wearing a robe, was meaning she had taken it off to reveal her naked body underneath.

Cameron smirks a bit and then goes "I think you should put that back on and leave, we might not be in Federation space by Morals still apply"

"You saved me, you are one of the most bravest men I know. How better to be my first?"

Cameron walks over and kisses her gently and grabs her arms, he forces the robe back over her.

"I might of not slept with a women for 4 years, that does not mean I will degrade myself to any level. Yes your attractive and yes it would be nice, but in the end my Duties are to....the federation" those words reminded him of his attitude during the war, no personal attachment. Heck he probably did not remember what a dam women looked like naked after all these years, good thing is this refreshed his memory.

"Security, there is a confused girl in my room. take her out"

The revelation arrives at Devenis, the Confederate council had been called and the future of the nation was to be decided.

Chief Command Officer's Log: Supplemental.

It has been only a short time since we gained control of this vessel,
but already she has been asked to make her first move. Forces on the
planet below us have asked that we move out of sight while they deal
with...outsiders on the planet's surface.

Falsus sees this as a form of discrimination--and, in light of his former
memories that we have recovered, this should be predictable--but I
could not be more at ease with this request. The farther away from
trouble we get, the less trouble we'll have.

My influence on this ship has made it tolerable. Falsus' maverick ways
and lack of discipline left me on edge. If I had any hair, it would all be
gray just from having to put up with him! At last, I've got the opportunity
to give the place a little bit of the discipline and order that a space vessel
needs. I can't wait to get back to Hollow World so that I can give
him back his slackers and get a real crew aboard--in fact, I'm going
to request that we do just that. Why do we need two tactical cubes
here? Wouldn't this one be better used defending our home?

Ver of Borg signing off.



Falsus to Frakes:

Ver, now commanding Friendship and Valor, has requested permission
to take his ship out of orbit and rejoin our main force in distant orbit
around this solar system's main star. He wants to pick up a proper crew.
I've no objections, so long as he brings my people back when he's done.
Do you? We'll be on the far side of the moon by the time you respond,
but please do let us know.

Falsus out.

(Now to go into a bit of a backstory into the founding of the Confederation and how it became so powerful)

"Now entering the chamber is Captain Krusi, also De-Facto Admiral of the Confederate Fleet" this came from John, mostly wanted to pin point the fact Perius was 20 minutes late.

"You try and be on time when your on the frountier John, then you can point such things out" Perius sits down at his chair, 65 people made up the council.

John smirks and continues "as we all know, the Romulan people have recently made contact with us and by the report we got they are weaker then ever before. The Neutral Zone does not need much focus now, there Empire has fallen and it is for us to focus elseware"

One person stands and it was Almerius Monran who was a Andorian, the Representative of Zulu-Alpha and thus the second most important person of the Confederation. Zulu-Alpha was a under populated world but when Terraforming was complete they expect a huge surge in there population since they have resources like Dilithium something Devenis lacks.

"We have to start focusing on building up the worlds and stations under our control, Regulus is still in ruins and only station 323 is near completion with it's repairs. We cannot hope to expand until we have control over our space in name and in practice"

Perius looks over and stands up.

"We need to also put in place a professional repair Organisation, these Confederate Engineers are doing in months what can be done in weeks. The Fleet needs more cruisers aswell, 5 ships cannot keep the Confederation safe even with 45 which is just a mix of Runabouts and Raven-Class vessels"

John then stands again.

"So I think the matter is settled, until the 8 new ships are contructed we will not do any further expansions. But that is not the only reason I have brought everyone here, the Representatives of the Confederate worlds wishes that Krusi takes command of the CSS Revelation on a permanent basis"

Perius raised a eyebrow, looks like John was trying to get into his good books again. This also meant John wanted to keep the Fleet loyal to him, He did not like that because that meant he wanted power to himself.

"Who will captain the Fist?" asked one man

"Captain Huris, who until now was serving on a Raven Class vessel" John replied.

Almerius stood and spoke "I now call the Full Confederate Council to a end, the Permanent council will meet again 2 weeks from now"

everyone stands up and leaves but Almerius rushes towards Perius.

"His idea, sorry Perius but I have no say in what the Confederacy does at the moment since Devenis pretty much controls most of the seats. Until the Terraforming is completed on Zulu-Alpha and the Revival efforts finished on Regulus the council is under Johns control"

"John will not lose the power that easily, he will start another civil war before he allows any planet to become economically more powerful then Devenis. Thats why he wont give you permission to build those shipyards or setup a reliable contruction and repairs organization, because it things get better to quickly he will be incharge of a backwater colony again"

"Another civil war between the colonies is not what we need, remember what happend to Beta-Alpha. That world have 450 million citizens who are now either dead or seeking refuge in the ruins of there colony, which is why your next mission comes from me. I need you to go to Beta-Alpha and do a report on it's status, I send resources when I can but all we hear is stories of ruin and third-world status"

"Guessing this is not from John"

"John would love to see that planet rot, but our only chance of beating John in a power game is if all the colonies stand as one"

Zophia CIC
Frakes nodded with a small smile “No Problem from us; However I would like to request a…liaison as it were” Frakes spoke pausing for a moment at how best to describe what he wanted. “If our people are going to be good friends then its important we stay in contact; so we’d like to assign an officer to act as a diplomatic attaché; after all you have after a fashion assisted one to us so its only fair we do to you also; maybe we can teach each other a few things” Frakes said rubbing his bushy beard.

Planets Surface
“Not at all” She said with a smile; it truth Animarnian’s were a very liberal people with nudity; in fact in some circles nudity was a required perquisite and most family meetings were contacted naked symbolic of having nothing to hide and approaching open. The Military were more, strict on it though. “Not a Problem for us just don’t want you to feel like the only naked people in the galaxy” Doyle said with a smile as they reached the shuttle.

“You never said; where do you want to go first?” Doyle said as the shuttle door closed behind them and the pilot started pre-flight ignition of the engines; the gentle whining of the engine start up resonating even though the armoured bulkheads.

Governor Vranik stepped out on to the podium. Arrayed to either side were the members of the council, soon to be the new interim Senate. Before him were the screens that would broadcast a historic speech across this world, and even to some of the colonies now that sub-space communications were being restored. There was a buzz of excitement in the Grand Audience Hall as the crowd of dignitaries awaited the speech. There were a lot of rumors, but few outside the Council knew the full extent of the occasion. There was a sense of greatness, of Destiny in the air. History was being made. When quite had settled over the hall, Vranik stepped forward and began his speech.

"My fellow citizens, today is a great day for our people. It is also an occasion which moves me to reflect on the past years, and to remind my self of just how far we have come. No people has suffered more than ours in the war. No Empire has been more devistated. We have fallen the farthest, and for that reason, our triumphs are all the greater. Today, we begin a new era in the history of the Romulan People. Today, we meet to declare our intention to found a new seat of Government, based in this system, and represented by the Council that has guided us through these trying times.

I know many will question this decision. The Romulan herritige is one of tradition. But it is also one of strength and cunning, and the time has come when we must cease clinging to the past, and instead look to the future. It is only in clearest necessity that I choose this course. I was a loyal man of the Praetor, but the Praetor, like the Empire and Romulus itself, is gone. I will not abandon the ways of our people; indeed I will defend them with all my strength and will. But I will not let us decay into shadows while the Federation rebuilds, while the Borg may still be out there, while half the Galaxy lies in ruins! So today I am announcing today three initiatives, which have received the full support of the interim government, and will enter in to effect immediately.

First, we must look to our borders, and our neighbors. The Empire maintained its strength by striking from the shadows at the opportune moment. This gained us many advantages, but it cut us off from Galactic affairs, allowed our adversaries to gain strength while we remained unchanged. Well no more. My first initiative will be to deploy an envoy to the Confederacy and establish formal diplomatic relations. They have broken from the Federation to form a new Dominion, and a schism in the Federation is an opportunity not to be neglected.

Yet if the war has shown us one thing, it is that we must never be dependant on others for our security. So the second initiative will aim to double our fleet within the next year!

But soldiers fight for more than mere survival. They fight for dignity, for honor, for love of their land. They fight, my fellow citizens, for their home. Our people need a home. And we have one. Once we were Vulcan. No more. But from that world we originated, and it is our birthright to reclaim. Our people should be whole. Our people should be strong. We will go to Vulcan. We will aid them in the reconstruction of their world. They will see who is the power in this Quadrent, and their logic will tell them with whom they must ally. If all goes as planned, we will capture Romulus without ever firing a shot. We will have a home, a fleet, a nation again. And we will show the Galaxy that we are back, we are strong, and we are the preeminant power in this Quadrent!"

* * *

Vranik sank into a chair in the adjacent office, almost deaf to the thunderous applause outside. It had been so dangerous, the gauntlet he had run, but he had run it, and they had joined him in the end. He sought reform, so he must appeal to tradition. He sought peace, so he must appeal to strength. A dangerous game. But one that had to be played.

* * *

Admiral Tomall paced his quarters, his face twisted with anger and contempt. He had been so close. He had held a system and a fleet in his fist, and he had let this foolish politician snatch it away. Well, he was done playing Vranik's game. He had tried politics. Now he would try the alternative. He stopped at the look on Commedore Zahn's face.

"What?," he snarled.

Zahn made a pacifying gesture of respect.

"I was merely thinking that now might not be the best moment to act."

"Vranik is too powerful. He is a popularist. The crowed cheered him like the Praetor himself."

"Like the Praetor?"

"The Praetor is gone. But to replace him with this posturing fool..."

"Do I read your intentions correctly, Admiral?"

"Such times require a man skilled in the art of war. A man of steel, whoever he may be."

Zahn smiled.

"No doubt. But an Emperor must be beloved, almost as a God to his people. There will come a reckoning for the dear Governor, but it would, I think, be best if it came after he is already destroyed."

"Indeed? And how do you propose to accomplish that?"

"I propose nothing. I only wonder if we should perhaps let him fall into the trap he has made for himself."

"Oh?"

"Vulcan, Admiral. He has staked everything on it now. Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing if your forces were to suffer a... setback at Vulcan. Unless you would find its loss unfortunate?"

"Commadore, there is nothing on that world: not its cities, its hills, its sky, or its people, that I would regret losing to the void forever."

Zahn gave that infuriatingly inscrutable smile again.

"Indeed."

After the crew-men arrived back on there ship the Revelation entered warp towards Beta-Alpha.

The Civil War was a conflict between Federation loyalist who wanted to wait for the Federeration to return and bring order againts the Confederation forces who goal was to bring unity to ex-federation colonies so when the Federation returned we could hand a big chunk back to the Federation.

Beta-Alpha was the last stand of the Loyalist, They battle consisted of only 30 ships since at the time the Federation had just fallen and we had only just arrived to witness the carnage.

The fleet under Perius's control did not know who to engage, both sides were using Federation vessels and they did not know how desperate the situation was.

The civil war left only Devenis and Zulu-Alpha with the lose of Beta-Alpha as a power.

The Confederation was born on Bloodshed, due to Devenis and it's much stronger Industrial might which in the end won the war.

Perius sits in his room, drinking wine as he looks out the window and at his side Cameron also drinking.

"Not a day goes by where I wish I foughta againts the Confederate forces that day, I remember them landing and the calls for help but I couldnt believe Federation officers would do such a thing" Perius said softly.

"We had only just arrived with the convoy, we were the only communication this area had with the Federation for 2 years. How were we meant to know about this kind of stuff. About trade disputes and a dam power hungry Govenor, Do you know he has a picture of Earth with a sword going through it in his room? I mean that just shows how aggressive he is"

"Good thing is Almerius is in some sort of control in the council, still nowhere near John's but he is trying to make a power base"

"He is the one who told us about the attack on Beta-Alpha and the only person in that room that is trustworthy, the rest seem to be blindly loyal to John and the Confederation and I worry he might try out a bit of imperialism when he gets those new ships"

"I heard you had company in your quarters" Perius said with a smirk

"Yes, some confused girl who thought I was the man of her dreams because I came on a noble steed and slew the evil dragon. All hail Sir Cameron!"

They both laugh as a cat jumps on Perius's lap

"I feel like we are going to die before we see Earth again"

"Then lets head to Earth, force contact then John will have to join with the Federation or lose face"

"Lets just do this mission first, the Confederate Fleet is starting to flex it's muscle and im afraid I can only order it around so much. More and more loyal Confederation Captains are incharge of ships and that means we might not have the luck of escaping without a fight, We would need all the ships still loyal to the Federation"

Falsus' face appeared on the comm station. He had all his teeth this time. He was even wearing some kind of makeup to make his skin look less gray. He was smiling, and, his visage was far less harsh than it had been the first time. It was plain to see that he did not particularly hang on ceremony.

"Diplomat?" he said. "She was more of a hanger-on! In fact, she's laughing about the suggestion now in your sick bay! She's telling her boyfriend about it. He's laughing, too!"

The elderly Borg sobered. It was plain to see that he also took care of business. "Forgive my levity, Mr. Frakes. My fellows and I would like nothing better than to establish diplomatic relations with you, and Dulcinea can easily be transferred to the post of Chief New Borg Ambassador to the Amarinians. Our Councilmember Ver, now Chief Command Officer of the newly-christened Friendship and Valor, informs me that he would find it most acceptable to establish diplomatic relations, but, though he would be willing to begin immediately, would prefer the opportunity to thoroughly inspect and shake down the new ship before exposing more of your people to any potential dangers that may lie therein. He wants to take it back to the asteroid, have it checked out, and bring it back before taking on VIPs.

"Your call, Mr. Frakes. Either way, we've got to get moving. I'm going to leave a communications boey behind so that our signal doesn't have to travel through the satellite to reach you. We'll be able to talk, and Ver tells me that he and his ship will wait with me for your decision."

One doesn't keep many secrets from the Borg.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - Planet Surface
“Not a Problem for us just don’t want you to feel like the only naked people in the galaxy.”

She laughed at that, her littermate joining her. "You're naked too, under your clothes. Most of my people don't really understand the concept of 'naked'. Seems to us, why would you want to wear artificial coverings if you don't have to? Fur takes care of pretty much all the protection we need, when it comes to the elements. I guess you furless types don't have that luxury though."

“You never said; where do you want to go first?”

She blinked. "Oh. Yes... um... Do you have food on the whachamacallit with the EMH? If so, there please."

"Also, if I could access the Federation database from there, and your own if possible, I'd like to study the... Borg a bit," Reshnik added. "I'd like to see what I can come up with about this new collective you were talking about, see what ideas pop up about how they might function."

She boarded the shuttle with the captain, finding a seat and taking it. She found it rather uncomfortable. For one thing, there was no hole for her tail. For two, it was far too big. Her paws didn't even reach the edge of the seat and it was far too wide. She made do by having her brother climb up into the seat beside her, both able to fit with some maneuvering room left to spare.

Safely behind the former colony planet's moon, Prophet's Hope and Friendship and Valor waited. As they did, another tactical cube, Emperor's Choice, joined them with supplies and crew for the "new" ship. With an efficiency that would have made an anthill envious, things were squared away, and the third ship quickly left to return to Hollow World.

Quickly, but not hastily, VIP quarters were assembled in both Friendship and Valor and Prophet's Hope. Both ships were given an Officer's Mess and each got a sleeping chamber with an actual bed. This was the first time in centuries that a cube ship had contained one of those, and several members of the collective voiced their distaste at the issue.

Falsus silenced the discontented rumbles with a merrily-intoned, "Yes, there goes the neighborhood, and I'll buy any real estate that anybody else doesn't want." This, of course, led to a chorus of cat calls--the common medium of exchange was time in the Ominimatrix, and Falsus, preferring real life to illusion, had long since bargained his away--but, in the end, the collective was content. They had decided long ago that, if they were to become what they wanted to become, they would have to deal with the unenjoined...personally. In the end, they counted it as a small victory that the mundanes trusted them enough to allow themselves into the collective's care.

Captains Log: We are orbiting Beta-Alpha and preparing a away team plus a small band of Government officials that Almerius gave us to help put the planet back in order. Our job here was to create a unified planet.

"Whats the situation with the supplies Commander?" Perius was walking with Cameron, in front of the men they had a very professional relationship.

"The 23 Authority figures are ready to land, 300 men to guard them and 1 Industrial Replicator to help with the re-building. But where are these men going to start there campaign to take control of the planet?"

"The old capital was my original idea, but reports show most of the city in ruins. We might have to try this settlement here. It's stable and apparently intelligence reports it has having a sort of 'City State' power base, remember these people hate the Confederay so do not expect a welcome"

"I have had several attempts on my life the last 3 years, Im sure I can handle escorting these men to the Government building. What I worry about is that it will take months just to get the planet into the first steps of Unification, Anarchy runs riot as you can tell by the fact the Government has been unable to extend it's power to far out"

Perius walks off to the bridge, they were to keep scans on movements so there was no surprises.

The group slowly beams down to the surface to a destroyed village where they will setup camp, this was be a long political battle to revive this area so it was more Federation friendly.

Perius had decided to resist the Confederation through Sabtage and to fight a war of Politics and influence, When they got the control they wanted they would re-join with the Federation and bring the Federation back to inter-galactic affairs.

Commadore Neera quietly perused the report on the salvage operations. It was good news overall. They had recovered two BOPs and a K'vort which were salvageable. The Klingon ships were weak, but at least Neera could now hope to deploy scouts without pulling ships off picket and escort duty.

More troubling was the Borg technology they had recovered. Neera was not one to question orders, but having any part of the race that had destroyed Romulus aboard disturbed her. In her eyes, the Borg were like a cancer. If they began to spread again...then she would do her duty, including self-destructing her entire fleet if need be. Still, what they had found might be valuable. Two Borg cloaks, as good as any the Empire had ever produce, and a Borg scanner, which would hopefully explain how those degenerate "Confederates" had detected her ships, and how such surprises might be avoided in the future. And there were the torpedoes. They represented a signifiant boost in offensive power. but for the mean time, they were kept safe, stored in molecular form in the pattern buffer of a transport, and under constant survaillance. Every cube, every scrap of debris was constantly scanned, and a state of alert was maintained at all times, weapons locked. Some my believe the Borg were dead. Not Neera. to her the Borg were a force of nature, and they were indestructable. Deep down, she knew she still believed they would one day destroy everything. Suddenly her station buzzed, alerting her to a new message. She noted the electronic signature. It was from Vranik. That angered Neera. She could not stomach the idea of a pretender rebuilding the Empire in his image, however logical his arguments might be. Still, she quickly flipped on the screen, masking her irritation as Vranik began to speak.

"Commadore, I hope you're well?"

"As well as can be hoped for, under the circumstances."

"You have new orders. You are to head into Confedreate Space and begin negotiations. Panak's Valdore is arriving. He will join you, while your current escort continues salvage duty."

"I am not sure this is wise. The Confederates are dangerous. We anger them at our peril."

"That reminds me. I was very interested in your report on Captain Perius. Particularily your psycological analysis. In fact, it was one of the reasons I chose you to command this mission."

Neera knew flattery when she saw it, but she could only be polite.

"Thank you, Sir. But if you read my report, you know my stance on this matter."

"You think Perius is dangerous."

"Very much so. At first glance he seems bitter, cynical. There is an air of desperation about him. But I don't think he's broken. He showed no fear meeting me on my terms, no hesitation even. He also showed no hesitation about violating orders to do what he thought right. He's a loose cannon, and if he thinks you are interfering in the Confederacy, there is no telling which way he might swing."

"Then I suggest you move quickly. If he is still abroad, you might make gains before he can interfere. It is hard to fight back against something that is already accomplished."

"We will be negotiating on their terms. They can see through the cloak."

Vranik smiled.

"The Valdore stopped at Romulus for some extra supplies. Suffice it to say, I very much doubt that negotiations will be all on their terms."

Planets Surface
“I honestly have no idea if they got the fabricators working yet; if not I’ll just have something brought over on a transport” Doyle replied as the shuttle started its accent the engines now roaring giving the flying brick vertical lift before starting a steady climb to escape velocity. Before they knew it; they were already breaking from the planets gravity well the view outside the cockpit was a mash of beauty and despair; the breathtaking sight of the planet below and the smashed remains for the fleet in scattered orbit. The shuttle made a turn towards the Intrepid ship doing a fly by of the Zohpia and performing a barrel role. Doyle smiled as she tossed a small looking PDA device to Reshnik; “has a local copy of the Starfleet database we recovered on it as well as a copy of ours; its not networked with out main database but it’ll do the job” she said with a nod.

When they reached the Salvaged Intrepid; nicknamed ‘Valkyrie” by the engineering crew it was a lot different than when they first arrived. Once life support and gravity plating had been restored work went a lot faster; the lights were on; power was steady and teams were welding new plates into place on several decks. Overall though you certainly wouldn’t want to take her into battle but she was shaping up pretty well considering the Band-Aid solution, course having an ample supply of usable parts in the debris field was also a big help. The Shuttle maid its landing on the flight deck the engines winding down as the doors sealed behind them; to the side though were bodies of Starfleet personnel lucky enough to be killed rather than assimilated. The Vacuum of space an unparalleled preservative; the bodies were in pristine condition considering.

CIC
Frakes nodded his agreement “We’re not afraid of a little danger Mr Falsus” Frakes said; “besides we’ve been exposed thus far” he added as he ordered Lieutenant Helen Carter to begin her new ‘exchange’; Helen was young, blonde and a scientist she would fit in perfectly with the New Borg for this experiment and she could be Teleported to the Friendship and Valour as soon as was convenient.

Cameron admitted to himself that this would take weeks; he had to remind himself as he stood in the middle of the ruins he was going to be calling home.
Perius could only stay a week before the Council became suspicious and he
would have to return, then it was up to him to bring this world under his control.

“What news do you bring of the City?” he asked a scout just returned
He spat on the ground “They claim control over the entire planet Commander, but they barely control the city. Crime is all over the place and by what I can tell they have no defences except for Militia that are little more then kids with guns. They rob you aswell if you’re not careful”
Just what he wanted did not want to hear, corruption running rampant meant that he was going to have to clear it out with his small team of officers, Cameron looks to a map on the table in front of him which depicted the region.

“The city is in the middle of several hills, be impossible to execute a tight grip. The militia most likely outnumbers us and I bet we don’t have the choice of bombing it because we need intact infrastructure to re-build, what the hell do they expect me to do!” Cameron slams the table in frustration, During the war all cities could be bombed if infected by the Borg by over 5% of the population. The Confederation allowed no attack on any city, but naturally those rules have been ignored since most of the city is still in ruin after John’s ‘justice’ arrived.

The political advisors give in there two cents.

“Why don’t we just talk with the council?”

“Yeah, let’s just walk right into the city and tell all the officials to give up their positions of power and hand it over. Let’s make them loose everything they have rebuilt themselves in the last 3 years”

“So what do you recommend Commander?”

“What most federation officers would do, walk in and ask politely if they will hand over power and if they don’t be do what a Confederate officer would do”

“And that is?”

“We raised our guns and shoot every single one, take control of the planet by force and if they resist further order in a bombing from the revelation”

One of them laughed “Oh so noble, great way to win them over”

Cameron snaps back “Yeah let’s make them all starve to death, keep the planet rotting so Devenis has no competition because Beta-Alpha is the only planet in the Confederacy that can handle another large population over 4 billion. What the Confederate Coucil fails to realise is that without another M Class planet we will not have enough room, Devenis is already hitting the state where it is over-populated”

They all load up and prepare to head out to the main city, it was time for conquest.

---CSS Revelation, Perius’s Quarters---
“What have you found Captain Fisher?” Perius was talking over the com-channel

“Well Captain Krusi, we found a very interesting thing shuttle we picked up. The ship it came from has a weird registration number it is UTF 3452-1932 by what we can tell this Shuttle was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Arrived just as the main battle started and here we are it’s mostly destroyed and we can only recover 3% of the data stores which is mostly useless but I found this interesting”

She clicks a button and a picture of Earth with a Sword going down the middle appears.

“By what we found these people were either working for or fighting against somebody who used that symbol and who do we know who has a flag similar to that?” she smirks and waits for the obvious answer

Perius pauses then goes “John is many things, but a criminal. Sure he is power hungry but He does work hard to keep Devenis going”

“I trust you not to mentioned these findings to John, there is something fishy about all this”

“I am here on duty, I cannot exactly run back and tell him can I. Just keep this information secret from your crew since it might give them idea’s we cannot risk a full out munity against the Confederation, More so since this points to the fact that John is becoming more and more Imperialistic in his views”.

“Did you hear that those ships we had salvaged are operational? John as also approved the construction of another Confederate Destroyer. They have turned Devenis into a fortress”

“I noticed when I was last there, so that makes a Galaxy, Nova, Miranda and 2 Defiant class ships which are protecting the planet. So when are you done there?”

“Leaving tomorrow, but the CSS Recon is staying behind. Weapon systems on the Station have been rebuilt and he gave them two Federation shuttles so that can patrol the area a bit, Without Borg sensors the Romulans can sneak up on the base that’s what I am worried about”

Perius raised a eyebrow, he had not thought of that
“The Romulans would be fools to start another war we are in a much better position to fight then they are, besides they do not tend to be the ones who attack first….not in the open anyway. Cowards”

Jessica looked down for a second; Perius knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Jessica, you have proven to me in the last 3 years that you are worthy of
being a Captain. You did what you did because at the time you were a coward but I could never see a braver woman”

Jessica smiled a tad bit “Thanks Captain, well I better get back. Going to upload a few things for the station to use so they can. Goodbye and good luck”

Perius nodded “Goodbye Captain, see you back in Devenis in about a week”
And with that he knew the Siren would be back in Devenis in 2 days leaving him a nice little tab on what goes on. The new ships were a problem, they will be purely crewed by Confederation officers and that meant he had just lost allot of influence over the fleet, He did not hold his position of Admiral on paper so every piece of influence matters.

Doyle smiled as she tossed a small looking PDA device to Reshnik. “Has a local copy of the Starfleet database we recovered on it as well as a copy of ours; its not networked with out main database but it’ll do the job”

He grinned flipping it open and immediately setting to work purloining any piece of information regarding his current topic of interest, as well as anything else that caught his eye, related or otherwise. Of course, before he could actually get any information from it, he had to figure out how it worked. And for Reshnik, figuring out how anything computerized worked usually equated to paring single operating processes and crashing the system as many times as it would allow before locking him out of the core programming. So essentially, twenty minutes of work destroying the operating system, ten minutes of work putting it back together more or less as it had been (with a few personal tweaks), and another fifteen minutes recovering the data that had been lost during his electronic rampage. He was quite content to trail after his littermate with his attention thus absorbed.

Selinia was just as easily entertained, though nothing had been presented her just yet. She watched with fascination as they lifted off, nose pressed to the window, causing a foggy patch where her breath gusted across it. Gaal ships tended to have only one true window, and that on the bridge, so this was her first real view of a planet. Captain Doyle's words were simply so much noise in her ears as mathematical formulas and programming language vied for space in her hyperactive mind, the one attempting to calculate the necessary functions to give a holographic entity sentience, the second turning said functions into code for future use. She had studied such things in great depth, and now she would get to see which of her theories panned out when put up against the real thing. She was nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement. And then... she realized she had to pee. Badly. Hyperactivity, an attention deficit, and excitability had once again worked against her.

Her hands went to her groin as her legs crossed, hoping she appeared to be in a somewhat natural pose as she concentrated on keeping the muscles around her urethra clamped tight. The vibrations of the shuttle's flight were torturous, and the landing more so. Once it had touched down, she was out of her seat in an instant and hopped up beside Captain Doyle, to whisper in the woman's ear.

"I need to... use the facilities," she said, hoping she'd gotten the term correct. She was only relatively fluent in Federation common. She could speak with her peers and maintain small talk, but there were certain issues that had never arisen before. "I've gotta get rid of liquid waste nooooooow!"

The last was an almost pained hiss as the female ferret bounced from paw to paw beside the seated Animarnian, doing the piddle dance as her dam called it.

Shuttle rides were usually filled with vibration in fact they had earned the nickname ‘bone shaker’ from those that used them. They weren’t comfortable or particularly great but they got form A to B. Plus if you ever had to crash in one; the shuttle gave you a much better chance of survival that a Federation counterpart. Doyle had to struggle to suppress an amused chuckle from the young ferret girl’s request and the wording; especially her addendum a few seconds later.

“You want the head?” Doyle asked almost rhetorically but the pained hiss made the question irrelevant for the most part and bouncing from foot to foot gave a clear indication that Selinia needed to pee rather badly. Doyle began looking around for any sign that might mark such a facility but came up empty; unfortunately she was not familiar with the federation deck plans for this class of vessel nor the way doors and corridors were marked out. She spent two minutes looking for any sign of a head. When she spotted Rita Henandez; the quirky blonde chief engineer cursing fluently at two technicians in her native tongue with exaggerated hand gestures; Doyle quickly jogged over to her hopefully followed by Selinia.

“Rita!” Doyle called out to the blonde.

“Yes boss?” She replied with an exasperated sigh; she had been running herself ragged for the last three weeks making repairs on the wrecks.

“Where’s the head?” Doyle asked with a slightly embarrassed blush to her voice.

“Oh, Go out the main doors, enter the Lift; ask the computer to take you down a deck; turn right, walk about 30 meters, Door on your left on your left marked D11-S36-H” Rita chimed off; “its about a two minute walk”, she added with a smile. Rita said then spotted another of her staff about to do something incredibly stupid and ran off to rant at him again cussing at him. Leaving Doyle and her guest to start making their way.

"Yeah, Bobby," Dulcinea said non-chalontly, "I gotta go--and, if you need to know that much detail, the door to the lady's room is marked D11-S36-H."

She half-walked-half-pranced out of the sickbay door.

And Ensign Roberts, who could still feel some of the sensations of her body, waited until the door closed before he started gritting his teeth right along with her.

Cameron sat with his men in a rusty hall, there stood 64 men who were debating about joining the Confederacy.

They accepted aid and men, but they would not accept becoming part of the Confederation again unless John steps down from rule.

One of our reps were giving the debate of his life

"You dont understand, this mission is behind John's back and we need your help in order to overthrow him. He controls the council and the courts it would be impossible to legally throw him off. Beta-Alpha is also barely surviving and surely your not blind enough to see that you barely rule over your own city"

"What do we get in return? One industrual replicator is not enough"

"You get access to Medicine and contruction workers from Regulus and Zulu-Alpha and also we can offer protection, Devenis is still the sole power of the region. It has a population of Six Billion and Zulu-Alpha only a few hundred thosand but that is changing, slowly Devenis finds itself without the mineral resources to support itself without us. They have no supply of Medicine or Dilitium without us so if you join us I assure you that we can bring resources beyond your imagination"

One of the men then speak "we will meet here again in 24 hours, until then gentlemen"

---CSS Revelation---
Stress was starting to shadow the Captain, he wiped sweat from his face as he sat down in his quarters. Talking this time with Soran, from Regulus.

"John is acting strangely, he has released a flag for the Confederation and it's the same as the one in his quarters. Also Devenis has just activated 3 weapon platforms, it is like John is planning for war"

"War with who? The federation is weak, Romulans are barely even a itch on the back and the Klingons are completely scattered and leaderless".

"Also the galaxy class ship has been sent out to salvage more ships, it has been named the CSS Devenis"

Perius smirks "John is planning something big, I need you to do what you can to find out what. Find a diary or something and I also have another thing to ask"

"Yes?"

"I need you Soran to put together a intelligence group that I can use, I know that Regulus was also a base for Federation Intelligence and I need to know what is going on in John's power base"

"I will see what I can do, but dont you think it is illogical to frustrate John when your power over the fleet is weakening?"

"I still hold influence over most of the fleet, the Confederation cannot pull out enough Officers fast enough to replace the entire fleet yet and I plan for it to stay that way"

"I must head off, be safe Perius you are playing a dangerous game"

"I tend to be alright, just not out of my own wisdom"

“Oh, Go out the main doors, enter the Lift; ask the computer to take you down a deck; turn right, walk about 30 meters, Door on your left on your left marked D11-S36-H."

Almost before the engineer was finished speaking, said guest was already sprinting out the doors, leaving the Captain and her littermate to their own devices. She had more pressing concerns. Ignoring any odd looks or shouts, she made a bee-line for the turbolift. It was a torturous few seconds before the doors opened. She squirmed in past the legs of two technicians exiting the lift, completely unnoticed due to her miniscule stature.

"Computer, take me down one deck!" she shouted as the doors closed, causing the technicians to turn with some confusion.

The doors closed regardless and the lift moved downwards. Selinia bounced between her heels and the balls of her paws as she waited the few seconds it took. As the doors slid open, she was already in motion once more, shooting down the hall. Her eyes scanned each doorway for the correct markings. She accidentally overshot the entrance marked D11-S36-H and her attempt to stop was not quite successful. Her paws found little traction on the metal surface, her claws equally unhelpful. She slid a few more doors down the scrambled back and into the entrance. Luckily, her experience with humans did extend to using their facilities, if not asking after them. She emerged several minutes later much relieved.

Reshnik, meanwhile, was too busy destroying the datapad to notice. He was only half way through his initial phase of information retrieval, and would be therefore gainfully occupied for a good while longer.

Commadore Neera watched the aproaching Devenis system with some concern. despite Vranik's reassurances, she didn't think he knew what he was doing. For centuries, the Romulan Empire had been a serpent in the grass, striking from the shadows at the opportune moment. Others had called them cowards, but the tactic had served the Empire well. all that had changed during the Dominion war, and more still during the fight to halt the Borg. but what had the change gained them but death and destruction? Still, as much as she hated to admit it, Vranik had clearly out manuvered Tomall. Maybe he did know what he was doing, politically at least. A sudden alarm buzzing jerked her out of her thoughts at once, and she was all busyness.

"Report!"

"Three weapons platforms, the shipyards seem to be churning out battle ships, and there are a number of warships on station."

Neera nodded. The confederacy had armed themselves well. it was almost as if they were at war, or planning one. she was liking this less and less. But she had her orders.

"Hail them, then drop the cloak. Order Commador Panak to maintain alert and stay cloaked. Let's see if the cloak from the Scimitar will still fool Borg sensors." The Valdore Panak commanded had stopped off at Romulus on the way to be refitted with cloaking devices from the Scimitar. The Scimitar's cloak was the best model the Empire had ever built. If it couldn't evade Confederacy detection, then nothing could. Hopefully, Panak would remain undetected. This was a more conventional Romulan aproach: deploy one ship as bait and use another to covertly gather data and act as an emergency backup. But now it was time for Neera to play to play her part.

"Broadcast the following message: Greetings. I am Commadore Neera of the Romulan Interim Government. I wish to speak to the leader of this Confederacy regarding renewed relationships with our former allies."

Aboard his Valdore Class command ship, Commadore Panak watched the unfolding scene with interest and concern. He would rather have been out locating and relieving fringe colonies that had survived the war, building the strength of the New Romulan State from within. But he knew a historic moment when he saw one. The question was weather this would be a turning point for the better or the worse. In truth, he knew, he was probably the least concerned of his fellow Commadores. He trusted Vranik's intentions and compitancy at least. Tomalle would rather negotiate down the barrel of a disruptor, if he had to negotiate at all. Zahn was inscrutable as always, but Panak knew he trusted no one's judgement but his own. Neera. Well, Neera had never forgiven the Federation for the Borg war and the fall of Romulus. At least she didn't seem to believe that the Federation had allowed the disaster to befall the Empire. No sane man would willingly give territory to the Borg. Still, he wondered what Vranik was thinking in putting her in charge of this mission. It just showed that for all his skill, Vranik still didn't know his officers very well.

* * *

It was late at night when Vranik strode into the office of commander Nisora aboard the Imperial ship yards in high orbit. She seemed worried. He understood. Not only had she had the work load of someone of much higher rank dumped on her, but she had, like so many others, gone through the trauma of finding out some one she loved was still alive only to see them go off with the fleet again. Yet despite the stress and the late hour, she listened attentively while he outlined his plan. She was a true professional even by Romulan standards, who if anything over worked her self.

"Commander, I first want to congratulate you on the refitting of the Valdore. you got it done faster than I ever could have hoped."

"Thank you, governor, but that's not why you're here, is it?"

"No. Actually, I have some more assignments for your teams. consider these top priority."

"Every thing's top priority these days, Sir."

"Indeed. this, however, is of paramount importance to our national interests. The Confederacy's ability to see through our cloaks, as well as the ever increasing use of high quality ablative armor have reminded me that we can no longer rely on our traditional advantages. Our existing fleet is built around the concept of an overwelming opening salvo. However, our fleets hold up more poorly in a protracted battle, especially against agile opponents. We learned this to our sorrow in the Borg War and its aftermath. which is why I am ordering you to head up the team tasked with develloping a new cruiser-level vessel or fighter carrier with durability and omni-directional firing arcs. Don't look so surprised. Even Tomall agreed this was necissary, for once."

"But Sir, I'm just a maintenance officer. i know nothing about ship design."

"Is there any one on this world more qualified? If you can find them in 24 hours, then I will relieve you of this assignment. if not, you have your orders."

"Yes, Sir." Nisora paused as the governor turned to leave, then said suddenly:

"Do you really think we can rebuild the Empire?"

Vranik turned and looked her in the eye for a moment, then said softly:

"I have no intention of rebuilding the Empire. The past is past. The future: we can most definitely build for that. Goodnight."

* * *

Admiral Tomall smiled at Commadore Zahn's news.

"So, Vranik has given you the Vulcan assignment. This fits perfectly in to our plans. Old fool. He's just given me the keys to the Empire."

Zahn smiled back, but his mind was elsewhere. In his inner vision he could still here Vanik's question.

"Who do you really serve, Commadore?"

"I serve the memory of romulus, and the Romulan people. As long as you can bring peace and order, I am on your side. If you fail, then I will make alternative plans. Do we have an accord?"

As Tomall continued to boast and rant, Zahn maintained his complacent smile. The Admiral understood so little. Tomall might be his officer, but a soldier's loyalty was to the Empire first, and to whatever man could best serve it second.

Dulcinea noticed the "girl" on the way in. On Falsus' warning, the Collective had told her to watch for Gaal passengers, and this one certainly fit the bill. The poor darling slipped on the floor on the way in and fell over! What's a girl to do? Dulcie helped her up.

She didn't seem to notice Dulcinea's borg hand. Good thing she used the other one. It was hard to tell that she was of Borg anyway, with her skin repigmented and her long, dark hair fully grown. Fortunately, the little darling didn't lose anything on the way in. She wasn't wearing any clothes to keep away a rather unsightly mess if she had. Still, Duclinea was on the way out as she was on the way in, and could only guess at how relieved she would be when she was done.

---Devenis (http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i116/Belcameron/mc11.jpg) system, on the CSS Fist---
Interesting, the captain thought. Romulans coming for a diplomatic meeting without there arses on the line...this should be interesting.

All of a sudden the system was bursting with sensors, scanning every inch of the system for the a slight movement if a cloaked ship moved in the system they would know about it but at the moment there seemed to be nothing.

"This is Captain Sakie of the Confederate Ship Fist, you have permission from Senator John to transport onto the planet but any sign of deceit on your part will be met by firepower. I hope we have made things clear and also only the people relevant to the diplomatic talks on your part are allowed, we will not allow weapons in the same room as our leader"

The Fist (http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i116/Belcameron/ss49-hires-1.jpg) uncloaks and reveals itself to the Romulans, it was the size of a Galaxy Class but twice the firepower.

They send the Coordinates to the Capital Building since John was expecting this sort of move by the Romulans, He was not stupid as he knew Romulan intentions were always clouded.

John sat at his desk, the new flag of the Confederation behind him depicting the Sword through the Earth. He has papers in his hands that will assure his control over the Confederation and while Perius is patroling the Neutral Zone he will not have a clue to what is going on until it is to late since John has deactivated long range communications outside that area.

He had 3 Confederate Security Officers, 2 outside the door and 1 standing in the room.

"Let them beam down Captain" and so began the talks with the Romulans.

John was a aged man in his 60's with greying hair and the look of a man who was one time fit but had shrunk, We wore a black top with a red velvet vest over the top with black pants. he also wears a long brown trench coat when out of his office which had many war medals on the chest, this was a man of experience but since the medals are not all Federation people do not know where he got his experience from.

Neera eyed the John critically. He obviously flaunted his military back ground, and he had all the trappings of a back worlds pirate war lord. But this war lord now commanded the most powerful fleet in the Quadrant, and that made him a valuable alley, and a dangerous adversary. She had expected his ultimatum (negotiating on his terms, as feared), but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. Most interesting though was the emblem he bore. A sword through Earth. Indeed.

"Senator, it is a pleasure to meet you. That is an impressive collection of medals. You must have fought valiantly against the Borg. My name is Commadore Neera, and I am acting on behalf of the Interim Romulan Government. We would like to discuss the situation in this Quadrant, and how we, as the two preeminant powers, might adress some issues of common concern. I must say, you should be complemented on your military readiness. As when I met your Captain Perius, I am most impressed by the improvement you have made on Federation...defenses." Neera stood waiting for a reply, outwardly calm but inwardly watching an gauging every twitch of the Senator's face.

Commadore Panak sat on the bridge of the Valdore Class Remian Moonrise. His ship was on constant red alert, but so far they remained undetected. Their sensors swept the system, monitoring communications, noting fleet numbers and displacements, analysing weapons and shields, and cataloging biosigns. Of course, they also watched for any sign of detection or treachery. In front of him, the tactical officer maintained a constant weapons lock on the massive warship which had decloaked in front of them. That was very troubling. It meant the Confederacy had no intention of honoring Federation treaties. That boded well for their diplomatic goals, but rather badly should those efforts fail. Behind Panak, another soldier kept a constant scan for a signal from the transport enhancer embedded under the skin of Neera and her aid as they talked to Senator John.

"Captain Perius is the one who fought valiantly againts the Borg, met them in over 67 engagements and survived every one. During the war I was nothing but a Govenor, my medals come from my work before the war since during the war I was working at Starfleet academy. You could say I was one of the cowards fighting behind a desk making new weapons and designs for use againts the borg yet not actually using them"

He takes a pipe out and lights it, sucking it in and releasing.

"By the report I received the Romulan Empire must be in a sorry state to resort to old ships from the Klingon-Romulan alliance, I mean Klingons are known for there overuse of old warships but I never thought the Star Empire could fall so low. You surely came here with goals in mind so please tell me, what brings you out to a system that was barely charted in most Federation logs little lone known by the Star Empire?"

He examines the Romulan carefully, John could tell by the look he was getting there was issues to be addressed which were much more personal. He smirks, it was similar to the look Perius gave him a sort of disgust yet respect.

Neera flinched inwardly at John's insults, and also at how easily he had avoided falling for her complements and disguised queries. He had deflected her praise with feigned modesty, and avoided giving any hint of where he stood with the Federation. The Senator's jibes had clearly been a response intended to put her off-balance, but for all her distaste for politicking, she was too experienced to fall for such crude bait.

"The Empire is gone. The Romulan people however are very much alive. I'm sure an experienced veteran such as yourself would not make the mistake of thinking that we brought our best ships into a possible trap. But you're right: we do have goals in mind. Specifically, we are interested in learning more about the status of the Federation. You seem to have the strongest outpost of the Federation still remaining. It is logical that we should contact you. So, how has the Federation fared of late, and what is your level of contact with them? If possible, you could perhaps put us in touch with a Federation Embassy. If not, maybe we could work out an independent arrangement."

"I work by Federation charter to protect this world, I did what was needed to keep this sector safe and it has worked well. One thing I will tell you is the Federation survived the war with Earth intact and this makes it more likely to be more powerful then either of our nations".

He takes another puff, then continues.

"The Romulan people are just as alive as the desperate pirates that attack defenceless colonies and butcher there population, Dont think I do not know about your attacks on colonies outside Confederate control. Also please do not try and control this situation child, I have allot more experiance in politics then you could ever hope to achieve" he smiles then continues "Now tell me what your nation wants and I will tell you the few things I will accept and then I will make my demands. ok?"

This pathetic act to hide what is simply a intelligence gathering mission was testing his patiences.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit
As Selinia exited the restroom, freed from pressing concerns, she noticed a very distinctive odor in the corridor. It was a smell that every Gaal recognized almost instinctively these days, a scent that screamed danger and violence. Such a peculiar aroma, it was. The tang of metal mingled with cold flesh, though... this was somewhat different... the flesh was... warm? Still, there was no mistaking it. Borg.

The small female ferret glanced around quickly, finding herself alone in the hallway. No one to tell and no communications device on her. It was a split second decision, one that might cost her everything, but it was one that had to be made. She dropped to all fours, snuffling a few feet down the corridor each way, nose to the ground then lifting to the air, finding the freshest scent. Once she had homed in on it, she stealthily began to track it. She made sure to retract her claws, for now at least, to ensure they would not click against the metal floor. The scent did not lead far, only down the corridor, around the corner and down to the next junction, then another right and there.

Selenia peered around the corner, lips peeled back in a snarl as she sighted the hated Mechos. It was as peculiar as its scent. There were few obvious implants, at least viewed from behind. It had hair, and its skin was not at all the ghostly grey pallor she had come to know so well. But no matter. Mechos was Mechos, no matter the disguise. She began to slink towards the former Borg, using all her natural talent. She was not the most competent when it came to putting machinery together, but she could take it apart with the best of them.

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

Earth - Starfleet Command
Alphas Teshla and Longfang had done their duty. They had contacted Starfleet and the Federation and had initiated diplomatic relations. From there, it was the job of others to seal any alliance or treaty. It took only a day to complete their task, and they allowed an extra day for shore leave and their own personal tours and exploration. After that, however, it was time to leave. As much as they wished to stay, they had little choice in the matter. The Federation here was almost useless, bereft of ships and out of communication. They must resume their mission and find others with whom they might ally themselves.

When she arrived on the bridge, Alpha Teshla was given the good news that the Vega station was ahead of schedule. They had been able to bring the communications hub back online. She smiled, tail swishing happily as she opened a line to the homeworlds.

"My most humble greetings, Elders," she began. "We have located Earth and opened communications with Starfleet and the Federation. A diplomatic envoy should be sent to continue what we have started. If there are no other orders, then Alpha Longfang and I will continue to seek out surviving colonies and governments in an attempt to restore peaceful relations."

She cut the transmission and waited for a response. One was forthcoming. Her orders were to continue as planned. She decided to set the next system they visited as Devenis. Those aboard the station had detected communications along the subspace bands emanating from that little backwater of the former Federation. It was as good a place as any, in her opinion. With promises of swift return, the Janeway's Echo and Phoenix departed Earth.

Neera was stunned by the arrogance of John's speech. He called her a child?" All her hatred of the Federation came flooding to the surface. How dare he mock her people when it was the Federation's stupidity and incompitance that had brought them to this state. Had the meeting been on her ship, she would have stunned him with a paralyser and thrown him in the brig. But she reminded her self that this was not her ship, and that her orders were to build an alliance, not start a war. And there were more indirect ways of asserting her authority.

"No doubt you fought valiantly, Senator. But you had a world intact, a colony to rule. Our home was anillated, when your Federation failed to hold the line. Dealt such a blow, could you have kept fighting? But no matter.

We are not pirates, Senator. We took what we needed to survive, and so did you. We saw what you did to your own colony when they would not follow you willingly. Such times as these may require harsh measures. But let me make one thing clear: we are not pirates. Either this is a negotiation between sovereign states, or it is no negotiation at all. Which brings me to our proposal." Carefully she drew out a small holoprojector, and pressed the play button.

"Greetings from Governor Vranik of the Interim Romulan Government to Senator John of Devenis. It has been a long time since we have made contact with other powers, but we now find ourselves ready to remerge on to the Galactic Stage.

But it is not the Galaxy we knew. It is a Galaxy of war, of pirates an thieves. Of anarchy, Senator. You know this as well as I. Yet we have both rebuilt order in the middle of chaos. But there will be others. We will have enemies. Pirates, those who once called themselves our allies. Perhaps even the remnants of the Borg, growing once more like a cancer in the Galaxy's heart. We cannot face the Galaxy alone, so we must face it together. Thus, I have sent Commadore Neera to negotiate a non-aggression pact with the Confederacy, followed by an extradition treaty and repatriation program to deal with the large number of refugees from each of our states currently residing in the other's territory. Presuming these initiatives are successful, we can discuss more far reaching and permanent relations. I await your reply with renewed hope for the future, Senator. Our future, if you are willing."

John laughs at the end of her speech.

"What made you think that the Federation was in any shape to help, by what I heard only 16 out of the 638 vessels sent to defend Earth survived. Mars fell to the Borg and it was only by luck that we won, Your brooding over a 'what if' Romulan and if you continue to do so you will find your judgement will stay in the past and you will lose yourself in this time where all you can look to is the future. We held the line the best we could, but the fact that Romulus fell also shows that you did not do particular well yourself and This crap about starting the war I do not who what you even mean. We did no choose to have the borg attack us again and again and it was not exactly a walk in the park either, only reason we fared so well is because we had not stagnated and gotten used to the past order of things. Hidden behind your precious Neutral zone with no threat to challenge you, Thats why the Empire fell Commander the Romulan Capital needed to be destroyed to make you understand how weak you had really become. It forced you to change and rethink the past order of things, Hiding in the shadows is fine but in the end the only one it alienates is you"

He then listens to the message, taking a few more puffs of his pipe on the way.

"Your leader seems to know what really matters, I must admit he also knows smart politics. There will be a non-aggression pact and we accept exchanging populations since Romulans only make up under 1% of our population anyway and if he wishes he can send a representative to work here in Devenis. My demand is that every Romulan ship that enters Confederate Space must declare itself, if not we have permission to board and wipe any information it has gathered and also collect information from the ships database about your nation and we will naturally declare every ship of ours to declare themselves in your space. Dont think I am so naive to think you are the only Romulan ship in the system right now Commander and you are lucky I have not ordered my ships to do a much more anal look around the system"

He then pulls out a book and starts reading, he looks over the top and simply goes

"If there is not anything else?"

A two man security team raised eyebrows at the odd behaviour of a person of unknown origin walking down the corridors on all fours there lethal assault weapons hung loos on straps around there necks while stunner pistols were strapped holstered on there hips. They were in full body armour, a black ensemble with the vest part looking somewhat like dragon scales. Unlike the light armour the kind the Captain had worn to the surface, this kind of armour was much tougher. The two Marines Andy and Jeff followed the young Ferret girl trying not to draw too much attention to themselves from there subject of investigation.

“Excuse me ma’am” Jeff said from behind the girl both his hand and Andy’s near there stun pistols should it be required they had deduced that the girl was following the girl with the black hair though neither of them knew her name. “You shouldn’t be walking around this ship without an escort; not all parts of it have been repaired yet; you might accidentally walk into a vacuum” Andy added; trying not to sound too intimidating for a heavily armed trained soldier. though they were trying to prevent an unfourtuinate incident

Doyle however had taken a much more leisurely pace to the head leaving Rashnik with her chief engineer in the landing bay who it seemed could talk up a storm to a complete stranger like she’d known them for years.

Dulcinea turned to see the young Gaal--ferret, perhaps?--whom she had helped to her feet in the head. She'd helped her before, and she wanted to be helpful again--even though it would probably mean letting the poor young thing know who--and what--she was. This was probably better, though. Regardless of what the Anamarinians said, this was the first step to breaking down the barriers of hate and ignorance. She smiled a warm smile of recognition. "Hi, sweetie!" she said. "Long time no see! I don't think we got the chance to meet before. My name is Dulcinea. What's yours?"

She hoped that this would be enough to break the tension. Those men behind the ferret-girl were being men again--always with their hands on their weapons! There were better ways.

Through the Collective, she felt Falsus chuckle. He had been keeping a rather watchful eye on her since she started downloading the diplomatic training materials. From this, she had learned that he was a little shaky about the stuff. The sleepwalkers hadn't been into diplomacy very much--they just forced their will on other peoples--so this was all new to the New Borg. And that was why it was going to be so much fun! Of course! the old man sent. If you're going to be a diplomat, why not try a little diplomacy!

Couldn't agree more, she replied, casting a disparaging look at the boys with the toys. One of the things she liked about Falsus was that he didn't let himself get caught up in who and what he was. It was a part of him that she vowed to bring to her new role.

"Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me, I need time to confer with my superiors." With that, Commadore Neera signaled her ship to beam her up. As soon as she arrived, she sent a warning message to Panak to withdraw. Then she went to her quarters to contact Vranik and up date him on the success of the negotiations.

(OOC: more coming soon. I'm afraid I'm busy with exams right now).

John continues to read as one of his Captains enters the room.

"Your orders Senator?"

John looked over to him "Thank you for following orders and not attacking the cloaked ship. I want the Romulans to believe they have control over the situation"

"Sir all we picked up was a disturbance, that means there cloak is stull useful if they do not move"

"Yes, but the Romulans are under the opinion we can not sense there ships at all. which means they will most likely try and continue spying on us, the council is gathering next week to talk about the future of the Confederation and to pass a few bills that will make the Confederation almost completely different"

"What are my orders?"

"Not really for you, but tell Captain Jeral that he is to take command of the Nova class ship named CSS Shadow and her orders are to escort Captain Fisher away from Devenis on a patrol"

The captain was shocked, but nodded.

Changing the Confederation could make Perius and his small loyal band of Captains go into open rebellion, but if they had nothing to fight for then how could they possibly resist.

Falsus' quarters were unlike anything in the galaxy. True, any of the New Borg were free to enter and alter the space at any time, but the New Borg had not seen fit to question his judgment on the arrangement of the space at the heart of Prophet's Hope. In the center stood a work desk like none ever before devised. Holographic displays rising into the air over the desk showed the status of virtually every ship's function. To gather the data, bioneural tendrils, some as thick as a man's arm, snaked out of the desk and took root in the floor around it. The desk itself was mottled green and brown--it was alive, and helped to oxygenate the air and purify the water aboard ship.

Above the desk, suspended from the ceiling, was a luminous solar globe--not so bright that it would damage the eyes to look at it, not so dim that the room would appear to be cast in shadow. Its orange-white light as much powered the room as illuminated it. Trees lined the walls, and a huge variety of life--anthropods, birds, lizards, even a few dialoids--dwelled in the trees in perfect harmony, all a part of the Collective.

A staircase led up the left-side wall, leading to a rack floor with a gap in it where a transport tube snaked off into the other parts of the ship. Vines hung from the end of the walkway down to the floor.

Today, Falsus stood in the center of the floor, just in front of the back wall--actually a transparent aluminum casing that showed an air exchanger in operation, with tubes of different substances flowing back and forth into a purification chamber--beside a large bush that grew from a base there. With a bat'lath, he swung at the bush again and again, occasionally hopping from place to place, even leaping over the bush itself.

Ver entered through the main door at the far end of the room. As he did, he noticed that Falsus was trimming the bush to appear in his image. As he watched, vines slipped out of the walls and removed the fresh-cut leaves, to be used as fertilizer and food for the rest of the ecosystem.

An enjoined parrot flew down from the trees and landed on a perch in front of Ver.

"Welcome," it said. "How can we help you?"

"I am here to meet with Falsus," Ver said.

"Enter, friend," the parrot said. "You are one of us." It flew back into the vines and cables.

"For the life of me, Falsus, I still don't know why you indulge in such passtimes," Ver sent.

Falsus looked up, surprised. "You of all people should understand this, my friend," he replied. "It helps me to maintain self-discipline."

Ver smiled. "In that case," he sent, "don't let me stop you."

"As you wish," the ship captain sent to his newest comrade. Three more swings and the job was done--a passable image. "How do you like it?"

"I would be flattered if I allowed myself the luxury," Ver replied. "Let's get down to business. There are 12,486 minds in storage, and we'll need to revive and process them."

"This is a purely tactical matter. Why are we dealing with it?"

"Because many of these were absorbed just prior to their disembodiment. That, and our new diplomatic relations add...certain complications to the matter. Some will, no doubt, wish to be repatriated, and we lack the resources to reembody them all. We have specifications for all the bodies. Perhaps the Anamarinians could build maturation chambers to house new bodies while we grew them?"

As they continued to speak, Falsus walked over to a rack on the right side of the back wall and placed the bat'lath in a place specially carved out for it.

"Do you think they will?" he continued, "Or would they come to think of the reembodied more as unholy monsters than as members of their families brought back from the very doorstep of death? And, if they do, what do we do with those who wish to be repatriated?"

"And, more importantly, will the Anamarinians try to punish us if we suggest this to them?"

"For once, I agree with you, Ver. We're going to have to tread very carefully on this. Dulcinea will have her work cut out for her."

"Should we tread here at all? We can always leave the minds in storage."

"No, we can't avoid the issue this time. The Anamarinians know about the database--in fact, it was one of them who discovered it."

"Then we really have little choice in the matter. You were right, Falsus, this is largely a tactical matter."

"Let's hope we can say that again after we've started the negotiations."

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit
“Excuse me, ma'am. You shouldn’t be walking around this ship without an escort; not all parts of it have been repaired yet; you might accidentally walk into a vacuum.”

The ferret jumped the sudden speech, spinning neatly in a circle, hackles raised. Realizing who it was she put a finger to her lips, urging them silence, but...

"Long time no see! I don't think we got the chance to meet before. My name is Dulcinea. What's yours?"

She flipped back around, and for a moment she was all claws and fangs and threat display. And then it slowly dawned on her what had been said. She sat back on her haunches, an expression of extreme confusion wrinkling her slender muzzle. She sat there, mouth moving silently, as she puzzled through a response. Were it possible, smoke would have been leaking from her ears. The sound of gears grinding and slipping was almost audible.

"I'm sorry, say that again?" Selinia eventually managed. "No, 'Resistance is futile' nonsense? You're not going to assimilate me? You have a name?"

Shuttle Bay
Reshnik listened to the chief engineer with half his attention, responding as appropriate. The other half remained focused on rebuilding the datapad's internal operating system.

Former Federation Colony Devenis - System Edge
The Janeway's Echo and Phoenix came out of warp and cloaked instantly. Passive scans showed numerous refitted and rebuilt Federation vessels and a pair of Romulan ships as well. It was a wary Alpha Teshla who sent out the hail.

"Greetings from the Gaal Imperium. We have come in search of allies old and new in this time of rebirth and crisis. We are prepared to defend ourselves if necessary. Please respond."

The two captains waited patiently, ready to warp out of these people showed themselves to be hostile.

OOC: Warning: channeling of feminine characters can lead to wordy dialog. :) :) :)

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

IC:

"Of course I have a name," Dulcinea said in that funny, sexy, munchkin-like voice of hers, bringing her hands together, palms upturned. The ferret-girl knew that Dulcinea was of Borg, but, obviously, not about the New Borg. She was silly--all scared and everything at first, but good at heart when she finally realized what was really going on. So Dulcie just picked up where she'd left off. "Everyone has a name. After the reawakening, we all got together and chose names just so we would have them. It was kinda like a holiday, or a shopping spree--we all got to go around and give ourselves names. It was fun. For me, we settled on one from Old Earth. It means 'sweet thing' in galactic standard. I thought it was cute!

"Now, I'm gonna go back to the sickbay an' have tea an' donuts with the boyfriend. You're invited if you wanna come, too. An' I know the lady who makes 'em, an' those donuts sure are good. An' I'm not gonna say the r-thing, but, once you've had your first bite, I bet it's gonna be tough for you to put 'em down.

"By the way, ya never did tell me your name."

As she spoke, Dulcinea crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped that she wouldn't have to whip up an emergency batch that were half donuts and half doggie biscuits. Then again, she'd wanted to try making a batch of scones for some time now...

All of the sudden the new arrivals were bombarded by scanners, taking in everything from weapons to what was the fav order in the kitchen. The primitive cloaking unlike the Romulans meant they could easily find the ships.

The CSS Fist impulses towards the two vessels, it opens a audio channel.

"Not smart to threaten strangers" two Defiant classes and a Miranda de-cloak at the side of the Fist.

"You have entered the space of the Confederacy of Pheni, yours ships are being scanned down to the movements of people on your vessels. No surprises will take place today"

The Captain contacts John

"What do you wish for me to do Senator?"

"They are to be sent to the Council Chambers, that is where we are meeting to discuss the reformation of the Confederation"

"Yes sir"

The Captain turns back onto Audio channels to the new vessels

"Lower your weapons and shields and then designate who you are sending to the surface so we can send them to the coordinates"

---Beta-Alpha---

Talks were going for awhile, the planet had a population of about 345 million so we found out. Not quite the population of 15,000 we were told.

Perius is on the bridge, taking in new reports from jessica

"What do you mean he has called the Council without me?!" Perius was shocked

"Captain Krusi, John is under the impression you are patroling the old neutral zone for Romulan activity. He wanted you out of the way while he called this session and by the fact everyone but us original captains are there I can bet he is planning to make changes to the Contract of Confederation"

"You have to try and find out what is going on, I will be back at Devenis by Tommorrow so wait there for me"

Cameron stood next to him.

"Looks likes your on your own for awhile"

"You cant expect me to stay here while you go to Devenis, he will gut you alive!"

"Commander, John is obviously planning againts us. one of us has to be safe"

Cameron stood shocked at this news "I wont stand here while the future of the Sector is at risk!"

"It's a order Cameron, your staying here to lead Beta-Alpha and help rebuild you will be left a shuttle. If you have not heard from me in 4 days then take the shuttle back to Devenis"

Cameron nods but is strongly in disagreement, Perius was his senior by 15 years.

Yes Cameron was a doctor by first profession, but like the Admiral who pulled him out of Medicine said

'It is a waste of talent, face it Cameron your a butcher and are a far better killer then a healer

It was true, he walked into a room of 4 borg and killed every single one by bashing there skulls in with a rifle and he had the scars to prove it and the to dots on his neck from one tried to assimilate him.

The war brought out nothing but the worst in everyone, wars like that bring out the animal defence instinct so in the end you had no choice but to become a fighter it was a matter of life or death. Being a 'explorer' like typical Federation leaders did no good during the war, it had taken a hude change in attitude along with allot of phaser fire to show just how un-prepared the Federation was when it came to a serious threat.

With that Cameron flew a shuttle to the surface of the planet and the Revelation entered warp towards Devenis, this was worrying indeed.

Devenis System - System Edge
"Lower your weapons and shields and then designate who you are sending to the surface so we can send them to the coordinates."

The cloaking systems of the Janeway's Echo and the Phoenix were not rudimentary in the least. They were the best the Borg had to offer amongst the salvage back at the Vega outpost. Alpha Teshla was, regardless, unsurprised that they had been spotted. With this number of vessels present, there had no doubt been quite a bit of scavenging for parts, and they would have acquired upgrades where possible. She was, however, quite astonished at the amount of information the scans were, supposedly, gathering. The biomechanical nature of Gaal technology tended to scramble even Borg scanners, to a point.

"Shut down the main computer!" she ordered, hoping that her counterpart on the Phoenix had done the same. "Turn us about! Raise shields, but keep the weapons powered down."

"Shields up!" came the swift reply. "Main computer core offline!"

"Heading, ma'am?" Gamma Tulure, the skunkette helmsman inquired.

"Anywhere but where we've come from. Don't engage just yet, there may still be a chance for peaceful relations, but these Confederates, whoever they are, seem more than a little hostile. Open a channel."

"Channel open, ma'am," Gamma Stickypads responded.

"I repeat, we are from the Gaal Imperium. We have come in search of allies within this quadrant. We are prepared to defend ourselves if necessary. No threat has been made. We request that you cease your invasive scans immediately and move your ships out of weapons range. We will take your actions as hostile if you do not comply. Repeat, please cease your invasive scans and back off."

She nodded to the comm officer, ending the transmission. She crossed her arms over her chest. She hoped these humans were not truly as stupid as they were acting. They would find out quickly that the Gaal were known more for their bite than their bark.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'mal - High Orbit
"By the way, ya never did tell me your name."

Selinia simply stared at this confusing abomination. Mechos, she most definately was, but Mechos she did not act like in the least. She had a name. She was quite obviously not an automaton. She seemed rather nice, in fact. But she was Mechos. The gears continued to grind for a few more moments, and then her mind simply gave up on it and shut down the conflicting queries. Ferrets were an extremely bright breed, but generally had a rather short attention span, little patience, and even less concentration when not in an obviously life threatening situation.

The little female's ears perked up as her auditory receptors were finally able to get a thought in edgewise. "Donuts? I heard about those; my littermate had some once, said they were the best thing ever. I like chocolate and eye scream, meself." She stood as she spoke, hopping from paw to paw in anticipation, reverting to the hyperactive five-year-old mentality her kind were most known for. "Do you have any chocolate? Captain Doyle said she'd get me some eye scream, but she seems to have wandered off somewhere. Do you know where she is?"

A pause for breath was the only pause before she was off yet again. "So you're one of those Mechos the Captain was talking about, the new ones they met? She didn't say anything about you being on the ship. Did you take over? How many of there are you? Did you send any down to the surface? That might be a bad idea. There are others down there, and they wouldn't be too happy to see you, but don't tell Captain Doyle that, I told her me and my littermate were the only ones."

And so on, and so forth, her mouth ran on, heedless of any attempts to stop it, and completely forgetting that she had been asked her name. She toddled over to Dulcinea as she continued to prattle, offering up a small, dexterous hand to hold as they headed towards sick bay, the same as a child would.

She liked to talk! And she liked chocolate! There IS a heaven!

None of the Anamarinians Dulcinea knew wanted to just talk with her! It was awful. Even Bobby--well, he was a man, and that explained why Dulcie did most of the talking. She had just been aching for somebody to come along who could form a sentence with more than four words in it! And now, someone had!

This was an opportunity that couldn't be allowed to go to waste! Dulcie was so happy she almost skipped all the way into sick bay--and one of the first things she did when she got there was give the little dear a nice, fresh bavarian creme--a donut with a chocolate creme filling.

Dulcie found out that, when Selenia (the name eventually came out) was devouring a donut, she didn't say very much, and that was when Dulcie could get a word in edgewise.

And that was when she answered some of Selenia's questions.

...

"We don't absorb people, we enjoin them--and we only enjoin them when they ask us to."

...

"I'm the first one to come over. It's all Bobby's fault! I sorta fell in love with him, and now we're stuck with each other. I'm staying in the Collective, though. So they made me the ambassador. So now I get to meet and talk to all kinds of wonderful people! It's amazing!"

...

"Before I decided my name was Dulcinea, I had another name: I was Cynthia Doyle. I'm the captain's long lost sister. Only the sleepwalkers--that's what we like to call the ones that you call the Mechos--took away all my memories and I haven't had a chance to put 'em back in yet. So don't worry about finding her. When she hears that you and I got together, she'll find you."

...

"What do ya mean, why? It's like being in the heads of all the smartest people that there are! I mean, you don't just get to talk to them, you get to be them--and you, all at the same time. I mean, think about it! What would you give if it meant that you never had to be alone, ever again in your whole life? What would you give if it meant that nobody would ever have another secret from you--that you could trust everybody you ever saw, and a lot of people you never even met in person? That no one would ever try to cheat or mislead you for anything?"

...

"No. Of course we didn't send anyone to the planet. In fact, we hid behind the moon. We didn't want to scare off your friends. We salvaged a nice, big tactical cube that we found in orbit, and we moved that, too. It had thousands of minds in it that they stored away just before it was wrecked, too. I wonder if anybody your friends knew was there. If they are, we'll let 'em stay with us or go back where they came from--but I don't know how it's gonna be for 'em, 'cause we'll have to give every one a new body."

...

"Oh, you'd love Falsus and Omigott. Falsus is this little tiny human who beats up Klingons three times as big as he is--you never know what he's gonna do next--and Omigott is this big old Andorian who can't keep his hands off of things--well, you know what I mean. He can keep his hands off of SOME things. And Zell--you'd really love Zell. She used to be a Romulan. She has this real dry sense of humor--and she just loves to lord it over all the men. You know? 'I can do this because I'm a FEMALE! Hah!' And there's even one of us who calls himself 'The Voice of the Many.' He's actually a lot of people all rolled up in one--a sort of mini-collective within the collective. He runs our library and keeps our history, and you can't keep anything from him. It's amazing. Anyway, they're real good friends of mine and we chat all the time."

...

"Eye scream! Eye scream!!!! That's hilarious! Oh, honey, no wonder you don't understand what it is. It's not eye...scream, sweetie, it's ICE...CREAM!"

...

"So, when they made it illegal to sell booze on Sundays, the bars had to think of something else to give to people...and that's when someone invented the Hot Fudge Sundae. And I'm going to be in their debt FOREVER. Aren't they good?"

...

Over an hour later, they were very happy...and Ensign Roberts was contemplating an even longer stay in sickbay just to get over the effects of having to listen to the two of them.

OOC:

Last anecdote is true IRL. :) :) :)

(OOC: sorry for the delay, I'll try to post tomorrow. Exams keeping me busy:headbang:).

((OOC: sorry for the wait, everytime I try and post the forums go down lately))

John contacts the arrivals through visual communication.

“Welcome to Confederate space, I suggest you lower your shields so you can be transported to my co-ordinates. I am guessing you have not heard of us before meaning you come from somewhere allot closer to the Founder Worlds, But you are lucky you found us since this sector is mostly under the control of pirates and warlords”

He then sends a hail to the Confederate Captain

“Show some civilized behaviour and stop being so trigger happy, do a stunt like that again and you will be dismissed from duty”
John was in the council chambers and the noise of senators talking to each other buzzed all around.

---CSS Revelation---
The ship was heading full warp towards Devenis.
“Captain, we will be at Devenis in a matter of hours”
“Get everybody into there tactical positions without shields and weapons raised, looks like John is trying to take away all power that we ex-federation personel hold in the Confederation”

---CSS Siren---
The ship was on the border of the Devenis system and over-looking all transmissions, looks like the Romulans had returned and also these new-comers.

“If only the fools realised how xeno-phobic John really is behind these guys backs”

The Siren waits, hiding behind one of the few blind spots of the Devenis scanners.

"Sero do your own scan of the new arrivals, I want to know where they come from"

OOC: Since North Calvares hasn't posted in 17 days, I'm going to assume that they're never going to arrive.

IC:



Falsus to Commander, Sophia:

It is with mixed regret that I report that the transwarp signature
that we detected earlier has dropped from our sensors. Though
there's no way to tell for sure, we have probably witnessed the
loss of a ship.

We'll continue to keep you appraised until you can get your
sensors up to spec--which we know won't take long. If you'd
like help with the upgrade, Omigott reports that he'll be happy
to beam aboard your vessel.

Falsus out.

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit
Reshnik was bored. Any Gaal would tell you, this was a very dangerous state for a ferret to be in. He had completed his work on the datapad and the research he had originally set out on. The captain did not seem to be taking much interest in him, and the engineer had wandered off to scold someone again. He decided to find out where Selinia had wandered off to.

Now, one might expect he would follow the simple course of action: asking the computer to locate any Gaal lifesigns aboard and then asking for directions to the one that wasn't him. But that would be too simple. Instead he took ten minutes to hack the internal sensor net and another five to pinpoint his littermate. That done, he took another five minutes to pull up the internal schematic of the ship and determine the most circuitous route by which he could reach his destination. This just so happened to be via the Jefferies tubes. Of which one happened to end in the wall nearby.

With a last glance at the captain and engineer, finding them both occupied, he slipped quietly over to the access hatch, opened it, climbed inside, and sealed it behind himself. Humming a happy tune, he set off to explore, able to stand comfortably in the space that no human could enter without first getting on all fours. There were some advantages to being small.

Sick Bay
"So it's ice *munch much* cream, not eye scream, I get it. I kinda understood the other name 'cause if you eat it too fast it makes your head feel like there's a black hole twixt your eyes and you can't help but scream."

Very nice indeed, this living Mechos was. Donuts, milk, even ice cream later. Of course, this might all be a ploy to lull Selinia into a false sense of security for information extraction and later assimilation. The first was the reason that only questions and observations about the ship and crew had fallen from her wagging tongue. The second was impossible. As compatible as their ship technology was, the physical parameters of the Gaal and Borg did not mesh in the slightest. Borg nanites were viciously attacked upon entering the body, the Gaal's entire immune system kicking into overdrive to route the infection. Ninety percent of assimilation attempts ended in a rather stomach-turning display of bodily fluids gushing from orifices. The other ten percent survived unassimilated, though how long they would last afterwards was questionable.

Either way, false or true, Selinia allowed her tongue to continue its automated routine as her mind gathered in every possible detail about this odd creature that called itself New Borg, absorbing every word and action as though her life depended upon it, which it very well may. She was not afraid, far from it, she was quite at ease. Nor was she angry. She simply allowed herself to be herself in the presence of her (former?) enemy, and hoped for the best.

"I can see how it might be nice to have all those smarts in your head, but I don't like the no secrets part. People need secrets, it's what makes them people. I like having my secrets. Then again, we ferrets are known for that sort of thing. And what does this do?" Somehow one of the medical instruments had magically teleported across the room and into her nimble hands. She examined the device with child-like curiosity as she turned it over and over. "It looks funny, does it hurt when you use it? That one end looks kinda sharp, I probably shouldn't touch it huh? Do you Mechos have anything like this? I wouldn't think you'd need it, what with your regeneration and all, but what if you lose a body part or something? Do you have to operatate? I'd hope you have good anesthesia then, 'cause if you're always in everyone's head, that wouldn't be nice for everyone else, feeling you getting operated on. It must be nice to never be alone, but sometimes I like to be alone. Especially when Reshnik's the one I've been not alone with for too long. Gory, that male can TALK talk talk talk talk, never let's me get a word in edgewise. And tell me more about Fasulus and Ohmygod and... that pointy ear female... you... said something about..."

Her ears tucked and she looked momentarily sheepish, having completely forgotten Zell's name in the five minutes since Dulcinea had said it.

Devenis System - Outer Edge
"Sero do your own scan of the new arrivals, I want to know where they come from"

The only indications of where the newcomer's ships had originated was found in the design. Completely alien from anything else found in Federation space, it could be found as a small blip in the Federation Database indicating a race (or multiple races, this was unclear) that held a system near Vega as their home. With the war coming so soon after their joining the galactic stage, there was little information on their spacefaring vessels, but much on their culture and biology if one cared to dig a bit.

"Welcome to Confederate space, I suggest you lower your shields so you can be transported to my co-ordinates. I am guessing you have not heard of us before meaning you come from somewhere allot closer to the Founder Worlds, But you are lucky you found us since this sector is mostly under the control of pirates and warlords"

Alpha Teshla replied to the governor's message, giving a full visual display this time, initiating a real-time two way communication. She stood as tall as possible, tail high and erect behind her, muzzle tilted upwards, attempting to display the kind of natural dominance her clan Alphas and the council elders managed.

"I am Alpha Teshla Morella, Fleet Alpha, official representative of the Gaal Imperium, and commander of this vessel. I would request to know with whom I am speaking. Also, if your ships would care to... escort us," in her mind that read more in the prisoner sense than the diplomatic, "we will take high orbit around your world. We have our own transporters and will beam down at the appointed time, given the coordinates. The landing party shall consist of myself, my Beta, and four members of my security staff. If this is unacceptable, then we would he happy to have you come aboard."

"You wanna meet 'em? They're having a cybermeeting in about 20 minutes. All I'd have to do is take that out of order medical bed over there and--."

"Honey, are you talking about what I think you're talking about?" Roberts asked.

"Mmmmayyybe," Dulcinea replied with a mischievous grin.

"Well, you know we can't have you just absorbing the ship piece by piece."

"Oh, I'll give it back when I'm done with it. No need to worry. I'll even have it fixed while I'm at it."

"I don't--."

Dulcinea walked over and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Honestly, dear, you're such a worrier! I mean, look at you. Full shot of New Borg nannites and are you absorbed? No, you're right back to your old self." She rubbed the shoulder. His arm rose, and their fingers entwined. "Now, whom am I going to harm?"

Selinia just stared on, dumbfounded. She didn't know what the argument was about.

"Oh, alright," Roberts said. "I trust you--but don't let them find out that you did this."

"Are you kidding?" she said, releasing his hand and walking over to the broken down sick bed. "If they get their hands on it, everybody's gonna want one!"

She extended her hand, and some short, metal tubules popped up just above the wrist. They lengthened until they came down and touched the medical bed. ZAP! Sparks jumped and the surface changed color, starting where the tubules had touched the material, from reddish-brown to a neutral shade of gray. She turned to Selinia.

"I'm turnin' it into a neural resonator," Dulcinea said. "It communicates directly with the brain. This way, you can go an' meet people in cyberspace. There's gonna be a meeting there, like I said, and all you gotta do is lie down on this an' you can go along. It won't absorb you or nothin'. It'll just let you meet everybody in person without ever leaving this ship. You don't have to go along, but I'm gonna be there, honey, so I'm gonna have to leave you with Bobby if you stay behind. What do you say? You wanna take a walk in our world?"

Commadore Neera watched the newcomers on the view screen with some unease. She had heard of this species, and considered them disturbingly unatural, but not a real threat. They were still new to the games of interplanetary politics, as their hostile posturing clearly showed. Still, they could do a lot of damage, and their mear pressence was an unwelcome complication to her mission. She had already notified Vranik and Tomall of the situation, and requested that Panak stand by to assist if worst came to worst. In the meantime, her ship maintianed a constant scan of the new arrivals and the Confederated fleet. The shields were kept on standby, troopers were stationed to repel borders, and the helm already had an escape route locked in. One push of a button, and the cloak would engage while they fled to warp. Of course, she had no intention of fleeing unless a fire fight actually broke out. When she heard John's invitation to the strangers, she decided it was time to get back in the game.

"Hail the Senator. Transmit the following message: We understand that you have invited these new comers to meet with you on the surface; we request that you extend us the same courtesy, in light of our prior arrival in this system. I await your reply, and am prepared to beam down at once with my aid and a two-man security contingent." That last was well-calculated to test John's willingness to negotiate. If he allowed the strangers to bring security, he could hardly refuse her while maintaining a diplomatic venire. At the same time, she had proposed to bring a smaller team, which would ingratiate her to John. At least, she thought contemptuously, it should stroke the petty little dictator's ego. Many on her ship would have killed him for saying that Romulus needed to be destroyed, regardless of orders. For her part, she would do her duty, and remind herself that the Senator was mearly a tool. But she looked forward to when they would be done with this particular tool.

John smiles at the creature

"I am Grand Senator John of the soon to be non-existant Confederacy of Pheni. This is our capital of Devenis and you would be more welcomed to come to the planets surface, you have arrived at a akward time but you can join us in our meeting in the Chamber"

He sends the Co-ordinates

"Your security staff can only be armed with light weapons, I would say come without guards but I can tell when somebody is trying to play diplomat with there own rules. The fact your found Devenis shows you have some information of Late-Federation starcharts since we were founded only a few years before the war with the Borg"

The two defiants move ready to escort the vessels

"Welcome to Devenis, one of the last worlds founded by the Federation and terraformed to suit it's needs"

Meanwhile two starships meet far away from the system, to decide what tehre next move was

Former Gaal colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit
"I'm turnin' it into a neural resonator," Dulcinea said. "It communicates directly with the brain. This way, you can go an' meet people in cyberspace. There's gonna be a meeting there, like I said, and all you gotta do is lie down on this an' you can go along. It won't absorb you or nothin'. It'll just let you meet everybody in person without ever leaving this ship. You don't have to go along, but I'm gonna be there, honey, so I'm gonna have to leave you with Bobby if you stay behind. What do you say? You wanna take a walk in our world?"

Selinia considered her next actions carefully. There was a line between intelligence gathering and foolhardy exploration into the unknown. This offer stepped far over the bounds between the two. However... This was an opportunity no other Gaal had ever been offered. The chance to walk with the Borg without being one of them. It was an opportunity that would never have been possible before. The question was whether or not she should take it.

Her clawed fingertips thoughtfully steepled, she finally answered. "I think... I think I'd like to do it..." She gave a slight shrug, a human affectation she had picked up. "I don't have anything to lose, I suppose."

She flipped onto her stomach, sliding herself off of the bed. Her hind legs kicked in the air for a few moments as she held onto it, then simply allowed herself to drop, her head coming just below the level of the bed. She padded over to the newly reformatted neural resonator, sniffing cautiously, examining what she could reach. It made no sense to her whatsoever, unfortunately. For one of the few times in her life, she actually wished Reshnik were with her to explain it all.

She glanced back at Dulcinea, ears sheepishly tucked. "I'll... uh... need some help getting up again..."

Jefferies Tube GNDN-7D
Reshnik, meanwhile, was becoming quite accustomed to the warren of tunnels that traversed the ship. He had even found a few data nodes and consoles to repair along the way. What his littermate lacked in technical knowledge, he had in spades. Of course the reverse was also true. He lacked in depth understanding of programming outside of basic data structures. He understood the workings of machinery. She understood their language.

He managed to easily avoid the few Animarnians wandering through the tubes effecting repairs. His senses were a good bit more acute, after all, and he had no intention of having his personal tour cut short. He currently found himself wandering past engineering. Somewhat ironic considering the chatter companion he'd had in the shuttle bay. He paid it no mind however, and simply continued his wanderings.

Devenis System - Outer Edge
"Welcome to Devenis, one of the last worlds founded by the Federation and terraformed to suit it's needs"

"Thank you, Grand Senator," she replied, "We'll be beaming down shortly." She nodded to Gamma Stickypads to cut the transmission. "Set course to enter high orbit around the Devenis colony. Keep the ship at yellow alert, and keep a transporter lock on us at all times during this conference."

She nodded for Beta Hoarder to follow as she headed towards their makeshift transporter room. The four security personnel met them there, two wolves and two weasels, all armed with basic phased matter pistols, equivalent to Federation phasers. Of course, these would only be used in the most dire of needs. Most Gaal preferred to rely upon their natural weapons rather than manufactured ones. There was now only the short wait until the ship moved into position, then she would meet this posturing peacock who labeled himself Grand Senator John.

Dulcinea lifted her up onto the bed. "There," she said, "doesn't hurt at all, does it?

"OK, you see those two round things on the sides where your head is? Those are the resonation coils. They synchronize with your brain and allow you to communicate directly with the collective--this way, you can tag along without actually enjoining. Now, don't worry about the little lights in the round things. It's just getting used to you. That way, it can do what it does without hurting you. We couldn't have that.

"Now, Bobby said he's comin', too, so I'm gonna sit over by him and hold his hand. In a few minutes, we'll all see each other in the Omnimatrix."

She walked over to Roberts and took his hand. "Ready, Bobby?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

"Good." She took his hand, closed her eyes, and just sat down beside him.

At first, Selenia could feel nothing. It seemed like she was just laying there, and that it would go on forever--but, just as she was starting to get bored, she felt a strange tingling all over her body. Then, for a moment, she was falling--falling through the sky, with nothing to stop her! She tried to get up and run, but she just fell and fell. Then, she felt the fall slow, and the ground gently came up below her.

There was life everywhere. Gently, she touched down on the edge of a grassy plain that spread out to her right from huge, dark forest. Sitting there, under the nearest tree, were Dulcinea and Roberts.

"Glad you could make it," Roberts said with a smile.

"Whew!" said Dulcinea. "It looks like we're a little bit early."

A faint sound--music--started playing through the woods.

"Ahh," Dulcinea said. "Make that, right on time."

They followed the sound down a path through the woods. Though it was mid afternoon, the shade and the gentle breeze made everything feel just perfect. As they walked on through the trees and over a wooden bridge across a small stream, they came to a small clearing with a fire burning in the center. Seven people stood around the fire, and, in the center of the flames, an image burned. It was a strange, borg-like man, but his body was all filled with weapons. As Selinia looked into the fire, she found that she knew--just knew--that this was the image of a New Borg named Legion, who had died protecting them and the Amerinians from being absorbed in the cube ship that she had heard Dulcinea talking about.

As she looked at the people, Selinia found that she knew each of their names, and that she somehow understood that what she saw was images not of the real people, but of idylicised versions, perhaps as they would like to be seen. A tall but lanky Andorian sat at a table of somekind, playing an instrument that Selenia couldn't fully see. He had bone-white hair with a circlet of gold set upon his head, and wore clothes of green, much like the forest he was sitting in--and he had the softest, kindest eyes that Selenia had ever seen. This was Omigott, and she could feel his sorrow at the loss of his friend. Next to stood a classic Borg--a former human. There was nothing idylicized about his image. His eyes were mechanical, and most of his face was concealed under a shiny, black cowl that covered just about everything but his nose and mouth. This was Falsus, and, together, he and Omigott were playing the music. Standing with her hand on Omigott's shoulder was a tall, pointed-eared brunette with high cheek bones and angel's wings protruding out of her back. She wore an opalescent one-piece minidress that shimmered in its own light but didn't cover her long, strong legs. This was Zel. Sitting on a bench not far away was a Cardassian. He had a bulbous head and lanky limbs, but he still stood a full head taller than Falsus. He wore a military uniform, a few medals gleaming in the freshness of their polish, as did his shoes. This was Ver. Off to the left stood a Klingon, in full klingon warrior's dress, bat'leth slung at his back, his lips drawn back in a smile as he contemplated the honor of his friend, and, Selenia could tell, vowed never to forget his heroism. His hair was clean and, laced in curls, combed back on his head, and his goatee was braided at the sides. This was Bromus. Finally, at the center of the benches sat a rather unassuming, generic humanoid. He could have been of any of a dozen species. Gentle yet intelligent eyes gazed into the fire, seeming to see in it not only his friend, but all that had come to him to this point, and all that would be. His name was Hugh, and he was the first of them, the original from whom all the others had come to be...the New Borg.

"Welcome, Selinia," Hugh said. "Welcome, Jeffron Roberts. We're glad to have you among us."

Corridors
The Animarnian’s were going about there business; those that had seen Rashnik paid him no attention; it wasn’t as if he was a prisoner or that this area was off limits; in fact nearly all of the engineering deck had been repaired and the Warp Core was online bathing the area around it in a gently blue hue as it hummed. In truth Animarnian’s hated the Anti-Matter reactor systems from federation technology preferring there Cold Fusion Plasma reactors instead choosing stability and safety over the slight increase in power output that anti-matter brought; no in the Navy there was only one use for anti-matter and that was weapons. Rashnik would soon pass Jennifer Tilly, a small built Engineer wearing the standard Navy Blue; this time in a jump-suit rather than tunic currently her face was covered by a large welding mask as she was using a fusion torch to fit in a new plasma conduit. The scrags of her short copper hair just visible from behind.

Sick Bay
The Doctor, EMH Mark I was currently occupying himself by doing what doctors do when they are not performing life threatening surgery he walked out of his small office to the biobed area to find the large Neural Resonator where his biobed should and indeed WAS about five minutes before. “What you hell are you doing to me sickbay?” he asked incredulously

The Cube
Helen Carter was enjoying her first few hours on the Cube; she had been given a work space; which while basic was certainly accommodating of her hosts; thankful she had a bed instead of having to use an alcove though she had learned how to sleep standing up it wasn’t the best experience of her life. She had already built herself a Fabricator and was using a network of spare Data Nodes linked with a subspace micro transmitter to a routing buffer and projection display; essentially she’d built her own computer system that could give her one at home a run for its money in just under two hours. She was currently pouring over the design specifications for the Cube; looking to see where she might make improvements and where she could apply some of the technology to there own ships; she was especially interested in the engines though. Cubes didn’t use conventional impulse or Ion Drives; they used some kind of Graviton Impeller System or gravity drive, which certainly made sense considering the size of a cube. She smiled to herself and went off happily to talk to Omnigott trying to find his body for when he came out of that cyber meeting.

Zophia CIC
“Acknowledged Falsus” Frakes said sadly; the loss of a ship any ship was always something to be mourned; stranger, a potential friend even the glorious dead of your enemies were to be mourned, respected there lives celebrated. “Tactical; Launch a Flight of Aerofighters to the last known location of the ships position to search for debris; and send a pair down to do some aerial surveys of the planet below” He Ordered. This was met with a quick “Aye XO”; something about this planet bothered Frakes from the started; he didn’t know what but his gut was throwing him through loops; there was something…the first thing they teach you at the Naval Academy is to trust your instincts…

The Odyssey
Stewart sat in his Ready room; it was mildly furnished; he was sat in his chair; feet up on his desk working on a touch screen flat computer in his lap taking care of his various duties when his door chime rang; “Come” he issued and the door opened; it was his Executive Officer; Sub-Commander Loraine Simons. She had shoulder length dark chair that was looped in small curls behind her ears and a streak of white ran down the middle; this was a natural if somewhat odd genetic trait of the females in her family line. “What can I do for you XO” Stewart asked looking up from his work.

“Captain; I’d like permission to take us out of Hyper for a few hours” She said; choosing her words carefully; “Some of the crew are starting to get Hyper-space sickness. Plus I’d like to cool off the engines; since we’ve been going days straight flat out” she followed up; both were true; the later far more likely to stroke the captains sweet spot. He grunted and looked out his own window at the endless swirl of white and purple around the ship in place of stars; the price for faster than light travel. It was fairly common for journeys to cause ‘sickness’ amongst starship crews; Nausea, vomiting and panic attacks were all common aliments. There were no actual harmful effects with the shields up bleeding though; at least non proven but the sheer madness of the endless swirling was enough to drive some men insane; and a few it actually did.

“What’s our position?” Stewart asked

“We’ll be coming up on Aymus within the hour sir, it’s off the old major trade routes, no Federation bases in the area and its mostly isolated, it’s the perfect rest stop before we hit the heavily clustered federation territory” She summarised with extreme efficiency. Having worked with the Captain for some years; she knew how he liked his information compartmentalised.

“Very Well; take us out of Hyper at Aymus; drop us out at the planets moon on its dark side and put is in Stealth Mode; that will give the crew the chance to adjust and recharge the engines” Stewart ordered; and with a Sharp salute she turned on her heel and left.

John can sense a great opportunity at these two cultures joining them in there meeting chambers, he is quick to reply.

First sends a message to the Romulans "I welcome you to join us here, The council has been called to re-organize the entire Confederation into a much stronger nation"

He turns the screen off as the louding thunder of shouting is behind him

"So I reveal the last change to be implemented, The Confederation of Pheni will be Organized in the Terrain Empire"

Almerius was quick to assault "This is madness! You cannot expect the captains to agree with these changes, more so the ones trained by the federation"

John laughs "oh but you see Almerius, for the last 3 years I have managed to finally out-number the Federation captains. The Confederation fleet is to be replaced by the Imperial Starfleet"

Soldiers go behind the Senators representing Zulu-Alpha

"You see, you have no choice Almerius. Join us in this Council of a new era our keep to your stagnating loyalties to the Federation, A Federation who has failed to show itself again and again to the people here crying for help. A Federation that can barely protect it's borders and expanded way to quickly, You want a future for the citizens that make up these colonies then you must look to the Empire"

Almerius was shocked, but everything did make sense

"Your making a grave mistake John, I see now where your twisted mind has been. I have heard the stories but I never thought them to be true, So you come from the Mirror Univer..."

"Silence Almerius or you get your head shot off, meet me in my chamber after the meeting"

Almerius stormed out, this was dangerous and during his time at the Starfleet Science institute he never thought that this was true. He had heard the stories but the Federation ignored them as some sort of space sickness, but if the Mirror Universe existed then yes John could make his nation powerful but it would not be the Democratic and Xeno-friendly that made the Federation so great.

The other senators eye the soldiers, most of them were in Johns pocket but a handful stood for the Federation and knew dying would do them no good so they had to agree, Run today and fight tommorrow.

"Anyone disagree with the new changes?"

They all nodded and said 'yes' and so it was, the start of the Terrain Empire with John as it's Emperor.

"Tell the Romulans and the beasts that they can come now and I will...inform them on the changes"

He looked around, 40 soldiers were in the room and any petty Security team would do him now harm. He lights up a pipe and returns to his chair which sat high above the others.

The Romulans in due time will come to regret this pathetic intelligence operation, looks like even the explosion of there homeworld could not shake the dust off there shoulders...still in the shadows and still they have a hidden motive.

The arrivals from the so called Gall Imperium were no threat, powerful vessels or not, any attempt to harm Devenis would fail. He had spent the last 13 years preparing Devenis for a attack by the Borg or a pirate warlord and a bunch of strangers with fancy weapons was not going to intimidate John any time soon he had fought in battles far more bloody then the war with the Borg.

Orbit around Devenis, CSS Fist

"open hail with the Romulan ship" the captains turns to see the womens face

"Your allowed to bring a security team, only light arms. Any attempt to harm the Senator will result in the destruction of your 'ship' " He said this with a chuckle, it was obvious that there was another ship hidden and they had already sense the part of space that had the disturbance hopefully they can find ti before the Romulans try anything rash.

---CSS Revelation---
"Cameron said that a ship has come to orbit the planet and has began sending there own troops to bring order, it is the Galaxy class vessel and 3000 soldiers have been sent to bring control of the system" Jessica said this with a fear in her voice

"3000, but John never said anything about relief efforts"

"Perius, they are killing the local authorities and replacing them with John's puppets. Cameron's team has lost control of the city and lost 65 men, he said that his team was going to the outpost to fortify the area"

Perius had a feeling that this would happen, John was showing his real intentions. He did not want to re-join the Federation and go back to a third-class governor, he wanted to be the federation.

"We are heading to Station 323, we should be safe since most of the officers there come from Starfleet academy"

((OOC: most likely not the biggest surprise since it was obvious from past references, oh and the Confederate captains are stupid and asses on purpose and by no means represent me :P))

A holographic screen above the neuroresonator had a flashing message.

"Meeting in progress--please wait."

Below it, there was a little box, plain to the EMH's view:

"Join Meeting."

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

"...but our work is not done here," Zell said. "We have only just begun to form a friendship with the Amarinians--and, with all respect to our lovely guest, we have not even begun to show the benefits of our friendship to the Gall. Within and without, a Romulan, as I once was, faces nothing but enemies. Trust is something that cannot be earned overnight." It was a strange juxtaposition of emotions that Selinia could feel coming from her. On the one hand, there was a certain haughtiness to her, but, on the other, there was a sheepish temperance, a realization that she, and the New Borg, had no reason to be haughty. It was a complex interplay, and not easy to understand. Selenia looked at Dulcinea, and could tell that her new friend could feel it, too. She was awed. Zell was giving up the defining characteristic of her personality right there in front of everybody. She was thinking beyond herself.

"Yes," Falsus replied, "we must tend to our new friends, and convince them that we will not abandon them--just as we must be sure that they will not abandon us. But we have other work, too, and it is work that we decided upon long before we arrived here. We must complete our journey. We must enter Sol system and negotiate directly with whatever remains of the Federation. We must not allow ourselves to be distracted from our main goal." There was an indomitable self-assuredness about Falsus. No matter what he did, he believed with all his soul that he was right. There was no self-importance about it, though--he believed in the cause, not in himself, as the top priority.

"Brothers," Hugh said, "I believe we can overcome this impasse in a way that we can all believe in." Hugh radiated patience and wisdom. It felt that, although he was not advanced in his years, he had somehow been able to observe as if centuries had passed before him. "Do you recall the brilliant compromise that ended the Great Debate?"

"Who can forget?" a great voice said. It seemed to rumble out of the forest itself, almost to be the forest. Listening to it, Selinia found its name. It was The Voice of the Many, and it was an individual and a collective all at the same time. "I am its direct result--as, in a sense, are we all."

And it all seemed to somehow come to her. The Great Debate was a civil war fought among the Borg. It was fought not with weapons, but with words. The New Borg were the final result--and the implications were staggering. They had decided that those who wished to be single individuals could be individuals, and that those who wished to be in a collective...would be that, too--like Vox Populi.

"This," Hugh said, "will be the basis of our new decision. Those of us who wish to remain and help cement relations with the Amarinians, and develop them with the Gaal, shall do so--and those who wish to push on shall also do so."

"But can we afford this?" Ver broke in. There was a paranoia about Ver, and a strange sense of conscience. He was all precision and details and knowledge, but he also hated biting off more than he could chew. "Do we have the resources? How will we fare if we are separated by distances so vast that they will hinder our communication?"

"We can do it," Falsus said.

"If we are brave, like Legion," Bromus added. He, too, was complex. Powerful emotions churned within him, and he struggled to be brave. He hoped to be a tower of strength that others could stand on--and, somehow, by sheer force of will, he was. He almost seemed to glow with ability. But he was aware that he was far from perfect, and he hoped desperately that his imperfections would not cause others harm.

"Vox," Zell asked, "what say you? Is this practical."

"It is not a matter of physical resources," Vox Populi replied, "but of the strength in our hearts. To accomplish this, we must endure for years that which is most anathema to us--separation. I/we dare not make this decision...alone."

"He's right," Omigott said. If possible, he knew even more than Ver. He was more relaxed, though. Selinia could feel that somehow, long ago, he had been the wreck of a soldier, and that he had learned love while he was a Borg, and learned to love well from the New Borg. Now, he almost was love. That was what he seemed to glow with.

"We must put this before the entire Collective, then," Falsus said. "Shall we?"

"I concur," Zell said.

"I as well," Ver added.

"And I," said Bromus.

"To the Collective, then," Hugh said--and the forest itself seemed to turn into a galaxy of stars, each one the mind of a New Borg. Selinia looked around, and found Dulcinea was a star--and that she was now a star, too.

As she watched, the entire New Borg Collective stopped for a moment to consider their future. Trains of thought so vast as to be incomprehensible to a single mind formed and dissipated. Intellect and emotion combined. Its power was simply indescribable.

Stars turned yellow and orange depending on the votes they cast.

In a flash--literally--it was over. The vote had come in favor of the compromise plan--but just barely. Many wanted to stay and work things out before heading on.

The galaxy dissolved, and Selinia found herself, body once again intact, standing in at one end of a Great Mensa. Behind it, marble panels lined high, stately walls. Darkest Obsidian covered the tabletop, and each member of the Borg High Council--Falsus, Boutrous, Bromus, Zell, Hugh and the others--each had a seat. Dulcinea was next to Selinia.

"That brings us to our final piece of business," Falsus said.

"And that would be yourself," Bromus said, looking at Selinia.

"You have seen enough now to know, if you can accept this, that we are not your enemies," Hugh said. "Our forbears perpetrated a great wrong upon the galaxy--one that we can never set right."

"One that we should not have to," Boutrus said.

"One that will set itself right if our hearts are strong," Falsus said. "The mistake was as small as it was enormous," he continued. "They became so absorbed in themselves that they forgot to ask others what they thought."

"And that is what we must do now," Hugh said. "We will not pretend that you speak for all of your people, or your government--but still, Selinia, we would like your help. What can we do to show you--to show your people--that we can live as friends, that we can be friends?"

Borg Omnimatrix Council Chambers
"We will not pretend that you speak for all of your people, or your government--but still, Selinia, we would like your help. What can we do to show you--to show your people--that we can live as friends, that we can be friends?"

Selinia was, for the first time in her life since first she learned the art of speech, completely at a loss for words. She had not spoken a word since she first found herself in that incredible forest. She had thought for a moment that Dulcinea had betrayed her, and she was dead, gone to the green pastures beyond. The gathering dissuaded her form such thoughts. This was far beyond anything she could ever have anticipated. It was nearly overwhelming. She would give her claws and fangs for a peek at the programming behind it all.

And now they asked of her the impossible. Or perhaps only improbable. She was not a practical person, by most standards, nor was she a diplomat by any means. By nature she was a contradiction: cunning combined with curiosity, deceit combined with open honesty, the jaded experience that comes with age combined with an endearingly childlike innocence. It made her a extraordinary programmer, giving vent to the boundless creativity that welled within her, but did little to help her in this situation. She wished for a second time that Reshnik were with her.

The scrutiny placed upon her by the gathered council made her fidget in her seat. Oddly enough, she found it to be the perfect height and shape, putting her even with the table but not obstructing her tail, with a paw rest even so that her legs would not dangle. It was quite comfortable, actually. She jerked her mind back to the assembly, still fidgeting, trying to draw her thoughts together long enough to give some sort of answer. It was hard, thinking about this, very hard, harder than anything she had ever done. They were looking to her for a means of presenting themselves to the rest of her people in a manner that would lead to peaceful relations.

She began to shiver slightly in her seat, panic beginning to set in. Then there came a warming wave of comfort, surrounding her like her dam's embrace, soothing her. She gave Dulcinea a thankful, though somewhat shaky, smile. The diminutive ferret took a deep breath, thinking hard. She tried to let the possibilities that passed through her mind open to the rest, but she was not sure if it worked; she was unschooled in their manner of communication. Then one occured to her that made her shiver once more.

It was an impossibility, she knew, but it was the only thing she could think of that might work. The only question was how to pull it off without killing her. It was impossible to assimilate a Gaal. Something in their genetics, something in their blood, caused their bodies to react with violence against any incursion by Borg nanites, usually ending in death. Their own technology, however, was not rejected. The communications chip that hid within her skull, linking her to her littermate, gave her no problems whatsoever. Some races would consider such an invasive item to be barbaric, but former Mechos would no doubt understand its value. If they could adapt the methods used in its creation, perhaps with Reshnik's help, they might be able to develop a new breed of nanites that would not be so violently rejected.

Finally, she spoke, her voice a weak reflection of its normal chipper tone, unsure, reserved... serious. "M-miss Dulcinea said... you can... enjoin? someone and then they can... they can stop... being Mechos? If... if you can do that... I... I think that... I think that the best way... to show that you're... different, to show that you're not like the other Mechos, would be... through me. I... I'm sure you know that we, we Gaal, can't be assimilated, but that was one of the few things the Mechos never bothered adapting. It worked on everyone else, after all... But if you modify the nanites, I think it might be done. I... I want to be assimilated." She cringed at the pronouncement, horrified by her own words.

"If... if that's not possible, then... Well, there's... Miss Dulcinea's very nice. I th-think maybe, if... y'know, she came with me... I'm sure you know there are others down below. They won't be as... forgiving as me." She favored them with a self-deprecating smirk. "I'm a ferret, what can I say? Those below are mostly larger predators, suspicious, quick to anger, slow to forgive or forget. They won't be as open. I daresay they might even banish or kill me for even revealing their presence. There are few races among the Gaal like ferrets, few who so easily adapt to new ideas and new ways of thinking.

"The prey species will be worse. You'll probably never even see them. It's only those who walk the middle road who will be likely to accept you, at first. Foxes, racoons, those sort." She shrugged. "I can't really give you any more advice than that. I don't know what else would work, but... If you think... If you can look into my mind and see everything there is to see... I can share what I know of my people and... perhaps you can think of something I haven't."

She had dropped even the pretense of simple information gathering. There was nothing more she needed know, but so much she wished to ask. These New Borg would make powerful allies, if only her people could be convinced to accept them.

Sick Bay
Reshnik closed the access hatch behind him, stealthy as any spy, and trundled up beside the EMH. The lack of scent marked it as a hologram and the blue that crossed the shoulders of its uniform marked it as medical personnel, so he made the logical assumption as to what it was. His stature kept him below the EMH's notice, quite literally.

At least until he asked, "So what's all this then?" He gestured towards the bed. He stood a few inches taller than his littermate and was thus just able to see onto it. "She eat too many sweets?"

His mind was still mostly elsewhere, plotting upgrades and repairs for the damaged sections he had seen along the way, not noticing the others in the room.

Former Federation Colony Devenis - High Orbit
Something nagged at the back of Alpha Teshla's mind. There was something wrong with "Grand Senator" John, or however he chose to call himself. She knew he was deceiving them in some manner, but he had given no obvious clues as to how. Or why. It was a calculated risk to meet with him, but one that she felt necessary. Her mission demanded it. Each member of the landing party had been prepped, and they were ready.

She stepped onto the platform and began to give the order, but paused. No sense in stepping into the unknown. She activated her communicator. "Scan the landing coordinates. Best resolution. Find out if this 'Grand Senator' has any surprises waiting for us."

"Ma'am, I'm having problems," Gamma Windsong replied. "There seems to be some kind of sensor dampener in the area. I can make out lifesigns, several of them, but I can't localize it or resolve it any better than to say that they're there."

Alpha Teshla nodded, making a few contemplative noises, before opening the comm line once more. "Gamma Greenland, do we have a tetrion radiation leak?"

The hare was outraged by her question. "What? No, why in the nine hells would we have a tetrion radiation leak?"

"I think we have a tetrion radiation leak and it's interfering with any attempt to transport us to the surface. It may take an hour or so to fix."

"Um... Sure, whatever you say, ma'am. We've got a tetrion radiation leak. You might wanna put off that transport for an hour or so until we can get it locked down."

"Thank you for the information, Gamma Greenland. Report when you complete repairs." She switched open a line to the bridge. "Gamma Stickypads, would you please relay a message to Grand Senator John? We seem to have a leak of tetrion radiation that was previously unnoticed. It is interfering with all transport attempts. Our ship is relatively new, and some sections are still undergoing construction. I'm certain he'll understand."

The ferret responded with an affirmative. An hour. Alpha Teshla now had an hour to decide whether or not she actually wanted to place her trust in this human. The sensor readings were troubling. Firstly, the number of lifesigns. Unless he had gathered the full council in his own chambers, which would be troubling in and of itself, there should be only himself and perhaps a few more. The sensor dampener was even more worrisome, though it could possibly be a simple precaution. The two combined were downright suspicious. She understood now why it had taken so long for her predecessors to ally with the Federation. She had an hour...

((pretty sure tetrion radiation does that, at least. If I'm wrong, please just insert the proper kind.))

"No!" Omigot said. "Absolutely not! We will not risk this young lady's life for a mere demonstration project!"

"If she wishes to be brave, let her be brave," Bromus said. "I respect her decision. Why can't the rest of us?"

"It's not just about her," Falsus said. "This could kill her--and, if it does, her people will--quite reasonably--conclude that we're no different from our forbears. It will undo everything that we wish to do."

"Then we must not fail," Bromus said. "Certainly, Falsus, you of all of us should understand this sentiment."

Falsus hesitated. There was plainly a conflict within him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ver said, rising from his seat, "if we're going to contemplate this fool's errand, then let us not be hasty. She's right--her immune system would destroy her before it ceased to fight against our enjoinment. Before we agree to this, let us study her physiology and the technology that her species uses, as she has offered. Then, IF we feel that we have SOME means of granting her request--and ONLY then--let us proceed--with caution."

"I don't know," Omigott said. "The implications are enormous. How will they react if she goes before them having been enjoined? Even the most bold of them will have to understand that the Mechos, as they call us, will have the technology to assimilate them. Would you have us unleash another Fireball Incident?"

Selinea was beginning to get the hang of this now. She looked at Omigott and thought to herself, What was the Fireball Incident? and, in a moment, the knowledge came to her. Fireball was a Capellan Powercat--sort of a cross between a Saber-tooth Tiger and an Electric Eel--that the Collective had absorbed with a traveling circus. Just after his absorption, he had returned to his dwelling--and been instantly attacked by three others of his kind, all partly absorbed. The species, it turned out, has an incredible natural paranoia. They had attacked him not because he was absorbed, but because they could hear his thoughts as he called out to them.

Fireball was aboard Prophet's Hope. He still walked on artificial front legs that would not have been necessary but for the attacks that he had suffered.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," said the Voice of the Many. "I/we are confident that someone of Omigott's talents can solve the technical issues. The political ones...will be more complex. Omigott is correct when he points out that Selinia is not so isolated an individual as we are treating her, that she is a being within a society, and that the things we do involve her society as much as they do her. We must therefore tread softly, obtaining not just her permission, but theirs, before we even begin to resolve the technical issues."

"And if they say 'no?'" Bromus asked.

"Then we leave them in peace, as a responsible friend should."

"It makes sense," Falsus said.

"As is often the case," Hugh added, "our brother, Vox Populi, has shown us wisdom that we should be proud of."

"It...is honorable," Bromus said.

"Then the matter is resolved," Hugh said. "And, though I appreciate your company, I grow fatigued."

"Yes," said Omigott, "I could stand a couple of hours in a regen chamber myself."

"Then I declare that this meeting is over. Falsus, Ver, Zell, Dulcinea: see to it that the appropriate communication is made with Selenia and her people."

"Ohh, that's going to be fun," Falsus said with a grin. "Teaching Selinia the rudiments of what we're asking is one thing, but doing it all, and getting a message through to the Gaal refugees on the planet below us, and doing it all without telling the Amarinians about it--we are sworn to secrecy, after all--that could take a little bit of effort."

Zell laughed. "I love the way you put things, Falsus," she said. "So simple, yet so brazen."

Bromus snorted. Hugh and Omigott faded into nothingness--they had left the virtual reality and returned to their normal bodies.

"Well," Falsus said, "if I must be brazen, I've got some administrative chores that are calling out to me--and I mean that literally--so I've got to be going." With that, he, too, faded out.

"Adieu, m'lady," Bromus said, turning to Selinia--and then, he, too, was gone.

Zell smiled a distant-looking smile. "Forgive us if we're a little bit blunt," she said. "We're busy by nature. We'll be in touch." With that, she, too, faded, leaving only Dulcinea, Roberts and Selinia in the room.

"OK, guys, now we're going to go back to our bodies. Just close your eyes and think 'OUT' and you'll wake up in a moment and it'll all be just fine."

Selinia did, and, in a moment, as she had been told, she found herself settling back into the bed in the sickbay and opening her eyes, almost as if she had been napping. There was a man standing over her, wearing a blue uniform, and her brother was standing beside him.

Dulcinea was already awake. "Hi, guys," she said to the two newest entrants into the room. "Did you miss us?"

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

OOC: There are three cubes: Prophet's Hope, (Falsus' cube) Emperor's Choice (Zell's) and Friendship and Valor (Ver's). Which one is Ambassador Carter on? (I recommend Prophet's Hope. That's where Omigott is.)

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IC:

"Ambassador Carter," said a mechanical voice, "I am Fireball. Forgive me if I do not shake hands, as you humanoids often do." The voice came from a vocal synthesis machine located on the shoulders of a creature that would have been frightening indeed if it had not seemed so at ease. It was feline, and walked on four large, powerful legs, the front two of which were entirely mechanical, and it was so large that it stood almost eye-to-eye with the woman. It easily could have weighed a ton--yet, it almost glided rather than walked on its feet. As it turned to face her, Carter noticed that the entire right side of its face was covered in Borg implants--it even had a targeting laser, though it was turned off at that moment. It also had green fur with black...tiger stripes?...covering all of the visible portions of its body.

"You have asked to speak with Omigott. He has the time to do so. I will escort you to his workshop. Please follow me."

With that, the huge cat slowly turned, and, waiting for her to accompany it, padded down the hallway slowly enough for her to keep pace.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit - Sick Bay
Selinia sighed as she sat up, "They didn't get it... Oh, hey Reshy."

She locked eyes with her littermate momentarily. Their eyes closed simultaneously. Ten seconds more and they opened. Dulcinea could sense a data transfer of some kind, though the encryption and compression were much different from any she was familiar with. Their eyes opened with perfect timing, and the male ferret set his eyes on Dulcinea. He regarded her with interest, not a trace of fear, only curiosity. He nodded to himself a few times, then turned back to his sibling.

"Yeah, I think we could get it done, maybe," he told her. "And you're right, they seem to have missed the point."

"Yeah, I want to be enjoined only long enough to get everything sorted out. I don't wanna stay. It's gonna be hard enough to convince everyone anyways, I figured showing them that they don't want to hurt us would help, but they have a point too."

Reshnik nodded agreement. "Breaking the immunity barrier would cause more problems than it would solve, I think. It was a good shot, but... Probably best to meet the preds on their own ground: head on."

"Perhaps... Yeah, you're probably right..." She looked back to Dulcinea. "Um... do you wanna be sneaky?"

((OOC: Everytime I try and post the forums are either down or it plain goes crazy))

John let the Gaal's try to scan the planet, no use since the planet defences made it almost impossble to get a reliable scan of the surface without the proper codes. He was not going to start another war in the quadrant and any worry was misplaced.

"So the Terrain Empire, why did you run here John?"

"Nowhere else to run, you see the last time this dimension intervered in our side you started a rebellion that gave the defeated human species hope for the future. The Klingon-Cardassian Alliance was shattered by the Rebellion and licking it's wounds even when we had re-taken the homeworld Earth and then it all went wrong. No enemies left to fight left the Rebellion time to think for the future and the think about the past and this seperation of idea's founded three splinter groups of the Rebellion" John starts smoking his pipe.

"The Terrain Republic which was situated around Deep Space Nine, The Terrain Federation which was in control of Earth and thus was the De-Facto controller of all Terrain Space and then there was the old men stuck in the past. The Terrain Empire was founded in cooperation with the Terrain Federation. We had the best and most experianced of the military and thus the Federation and Republic feared us, they allied againts us and a war started far more devastation then the war with the Borg...Can you imagine the sickness it brought to us? We had just won freedom and all we can do with this new found freedom is go back hundreds of years and fight"

"How did you end up here?"

"Imperial Starfleet was overwealmed but we did damage, the war dragged on for 7 years and then we found out about this universe and knew we had to escape and thus when our last planet was about to fall to the Terrain Alliance we escaped through the wormhole and I have been here for 15 years since. Enough stolen information to lie my way into Starfleet and earn enough respect to get a colony for myself so After the war I could rebuild the Empire more glorious then ever"

"You do know the Federation if they find out will simply repeat what happened in the other universe, your Empire is not that strong"

"Strong enough to keep this sector under my control, I dont plan on letting the Federation find out about us. That is why I have not even allowed a single ship to expand into area's that are still under there control. So what now? you going to kill me?"

"I wont kill you John, I will work with this Empire to keep it safe since your hardwork has earned respect. but when the Federation catches on....you will not see me by your side"

Almerius walks out the room, ships ID was being changed from CSS to ISS as they spoke and soon the Romulans will be made aware of what is going on.

"Just a minute," Dulcinea said. She reached down, extended her absorption tubules, and, in a moment, the EMH found himself standing in front of a perfectly repaired, factory specification biobed, all so fast that he didn't even have time to say, "What the &#)) is going on here?" Roberts watched his head double back and forth between the two girls and couldn't help but laugh.

"Sel--can I call you 'Sel?'--they got it," Roberts said. "They just all know each other so well that they skipped ahead and didn't take you along. Happened to me a little while ago, too."

"Hi, Reshy," Dulcinea said with a girlish grin. "I've heard a lot of things about you, an' most of 'em were wicked!" This caused Reshy and Selenia to exchange another glance, and a few more seconds of silence.

"What did you mean, 'be sneaky?'" Roberts asked.

Dulcinea laughed. "An' how can we be sneaky when we're doin' it right in front of the ship's EMH?

"Hiiiii, Doctor Hologram. How are you today?"

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit - Sick Bay
"I've heard a lot of things about you, an' most of 'em were wicked!"

Reshnik struck what he guessed to be a dashing pose. "Anything you've heard, it's all true." He shot a glare at his sibling. "Unless she told you I monobonded a sheet of tritanium to my nose. That never happened."

"An' how can we be sneaky when we're doin' it right in front of the ship's EMH?"

Selinia scrunched her muzzle at the EMH. "Not to be.. y'know, rude or anything... but could you, like, switch off? I'd really like to talk to you later, but... Well, sorry."

She waited until the hologram disappeared in a huff before continuing. "What I meant by sneaky is... well, do you have access to any kind of transporter technology? I know there are some on this Federation vessel, but probably still under repairs."

"Nope, done and operational, just not in use," her littermate cut in.

The female of the pair simply nodded, quite familiar with his wandering ways. "Okay, but there are logs and such, which Reshy and I can probably fix. The problem is on your end, Dulcy. We'd need to keep it from the rest of your people. If we can transport down and just get it done, then we won't have to worry about the rest of it all."

Devenis System - High Orbit
In the end, Alpha Teshla decided there was little choice besides speaking with the human. However, risks could be minimized. In the Grand Senator's chambers, a single being transported down. Alpha Teshla spread her arms as she materialized, palms towards him, claws sheathed, and ducked her head slightly. Senses far above those of any human took in the room, including the guards.

"Greetings, Grand Senator," she said before straightening. "I am glad you have allowed this opportunity. As you see, I have left behind my security team. I offer this as a gesture of the trust I hope to build between us. I would be... appreciative if you would return it in kind."

"I am the Emperor of the newly proclaimed Terrain Empire now, The Romulans are taking there sweet time so I suppose im stuck talking to just you now. No offence but I was simply hoping for a group discussion"

He continues to smoke in his chair, the desk seperating them. The guards could tell by his attitude that they had to leave and they walked out, If John had control of one thing it was the army.

"So where do you come from exactly?, I have heard of the Gaal Imperium but not enough to form a real opinion. I also apologize for the behavior of the captain of the Fist, in this day of age you simply need captains and cant be picky as long as they get the job done im happy"

He looks at a screen that had popped up on his desk and a sting like sensation went over his body as he read it's contents.

CSS Revelation and CSS Siren just left the system

"Computer, tell me the location of Senator Almerius"

"Senator Almerius is not on the planet surface"

He looks back at Alpha Teshla

"I do not even know why im putting my trust into some of these people, The Romulans are simply trying to gather information that much is obvious. They only make a Alliance to find out your weakness and how to exploit it."

He takes a long puff of his pipe

"The only thing making me trust you is that your strangers who have no reason to fight us, You do seem like the trustworthy sort no-matter your appearance"

He waves his hand to the chair at the other side of the desk.

"Please sit, you should be able to put that tail through the hole at the back"

Devenis System - Office of Emperor John Idonthavealastname (Orjohnismylastnameandidonthaveafirstname)
Alpha Teshla took the change in title with no obvious response save a flick of her tail, nor did she give any indication that she noticed the guards filing out. She remained standing at ease, impassive. One might have mistaken her for a stuffed creature, placed in his office to add some sort of gaudy, barbaric splendor were it not for the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the ocassional blink.

"Please sit, you should be able to put that tail through the hole at the back"

"I will remain standing, if you don't mind," she replied. "I find seats not specifically designed for a Gaal body tend to be more uncomfortable than it is worth. As for where we come from, you will understand if I do not immediately give you the coordinates of my home world, I am certain. As you say, these are indeed dangerous times, and space is longer safe for even well-armed travelers. Also, the fact that you have just, quite obviously, had a shift in sovereignty does not bode well for your political stability. I am sure you will forgive me for not wanting to become involved in any internal strife that may arise due to this change.

"Allying ourselves with you at this juncture would be inadvisable as it would both strengthen your position, and give the appearance of us having sided with you. I do not seek to undermine your rule, however any internal power play must be free of interference. Therefore, with your leave, I will return to my ship and depart. If you know of any other colonies that have survived the attack, and fall outside of your purview, I would be much appreciative of their coordinates. If we should come across any that are in need of assistance which we are unable to offer, I will also be happy to relay their needs to you in the hopes that your more than adequate fleet will be able to do so."

((OOC: I dont know the last name..make it....Samuel :P))

"I meant where do you come from on friendly sort of gesture, i dont expect co-ordinates or anything of the sort. But if paranoid is one of your vices then I suppose i will hold you to it"

he takes a puff of his smoke

"We are not in a civil war, just a nation founded on to many people with to many different interests. You would not be 'siding' with anybody and I did not even know this was a meeting to talk about a Alliance or even a trade agreement, This is a meeting where you find out a little about me and go back and tell your friends about the scary might-be-dictator. Then I finish my pipe and go tell my advisors about the Paranoid Animal/Human. This is not a diplomatic meeting at all Gaal, like most first meetings between people it's a game of chess"

He smiles as he says this, he was in fact saying this in a very boring conversation like voice. Somebody who had been in this situation way to many times to really take offense or interest in what the thing was saying.

"Every Federation colony in this sector in under my control, I will give you the borders of the Empire and you can search outside that"

He opens his screen up and sends the needed information to the Gaal ship.

"That will give you the borders, goodbye"

"Oh, Selinia," Roberts said, sadness overtaking his features.

"Well," Dulcie broke in, "you stole the show--you might as well tell 'er."

"She can't be sneaky," Roberts said. "She's never been out of touch with them. They heard everything you said."

"If you'd told me before hand, I could've shut it off, but...well, I guess you know."

As the ambassador continued to speak, a swirl of green formed behind her.

"Besides, it's really not doable if we can't make the nanoprobes work."

In a swirl of green, Falsus appeared in the sick bay. Selinia recognized him from the meeting. He looked exactly as he had always looked--even his gentle smile was unchanged.

"Reshy," he said, "my name is Falsus, and I'm as close to a leader of the New Borg as someone can get. If you're sure you want to go through with this, I'll go with you down to the planet and we'll work things out from there.

"There is also another option. My friend Gizmo, our best computer scientist, tells me that he'll have the encryption on your brain stem computers worked out in a few hours. From there, we'll be able to use them to communicate just as you do--and modify their design to give you full access to the collective without...full enjoinment.

"So...what would you like, young lady? Down to the planet, over to our ship to get a little upgrade...or just stay here and let your brother play with a few more toys?"

Devenis System - Office of Emperor John Yayihavealastnamenow Samuel
"We are not in a civil war, just a nation founded on to many people with to many different interests. You would not be 'siding' with anybody and I did not even know this was a meeting to talk about a Alliance or even a trade agreement, This is a meeting where you find out a little about me and go back and tell your friends about the scary might-be-dictator. Then I finish my pipe and go tell my advisors about the Paranoid Animal/Human. This is not a diplomatic meeting at all Gaal, like most first meetings between people it's a game of chess"

"You may not currently be embroiled within a civil war, but the actions displayed by your senator and captains indicates that one may soon erupt," she rebutted. "Secondly, I specifically stated that I had come here in search of allies. This was repeated when I requested your overzealous captain stand off to a reasonable distance. Thirdly, I was unaware that healthy caution equated to paranoia.

"You are correct in one thing. This is quite obviously a game of maneuvering, at least in your mind. You seek to impress me, first with a show of force, second with your own high office, and now with a reorganization of the very government that you now head. You apparently consider this to be some sort of First Contact situation. I do not. We have met humans. We have dealt with you, fairly and openly. We have weighed and measured your race and found it to be acceptably compatible with our own.

"If you do not find this to be so, then I pity you. We have much to offer one another. However, I am not so naive to think that every human thinks alike. I have met with prejudice amongst my own people; I do not think so highly of yours as to expect any differently. But again, you are, or will shortly be, experiencing internal political strife. Whether you happen to think so or not, we cannot appear to support any faction that comes about from said strife so as to ensure we retain a firm footing for diplomatic relations once the dust settles."

"Every Federation colony in this sector in under my control, I will give you the borders of the Empire and you can search outside that. That will give you the borders. Goodbye."

She quirked a brow at this. "I would give a final word of caution to your newly-self-crowned highness. I suggest you found your new 'empire' upon the principles by which the Federation operated rather than an expansionist exclusionary view. This sector does not need another war. Peace and friendship are what we all need, most of all, whether we desire it or not. Think on it."

With no further comment, she tapped her communicator and vanished in a shimmer of transporter energy.

Devenis System - High Orbit
Alpha Teshla waited impatiently in the jury-rigged transporter room. The telltale chime and wave of blue light swept over one of the pads and an exact replica of herself appeared. She escorted the apparent clone down the corridor outside and into one of the holographic chambers. Once there, she reached beneath the collar of her duplicate, removing a small trapezoidal device. Her twin flickered momentarily then stabilized once more. Alpha Teshla bounced the mobile emitter in her hand, infinitely glad that she had come across this nifty bit of technology.

"Download all gathered data into the main buffer," she ordered. "Shift it to the main computer once that's back up and running."

The holographic duplicate nodded and faded from existence. Alpha Teshla sighed and headed back to the bridge. This was not a good start to the second leg of her mission, not at all. Hopefully her helmsman had tracked those two ships when they departed, and she might be able to hunt them down. In the mean time...

"Gamma Stickypads, would you be so kind as to send a narrow band, encrypted transmission to the Romulans? Gamma Tulure, if you would please pick a set of arbitrary coordinates, somewhere within fifty lightyears, preferably a nebula or asteroid field. Neutral ground, essentially. I'll trust your judgement. Transmission is as follows.

"Greetings. I am Alpha Teshla Morella. You no doubt heard my initial hail but have failed to thus far respond. I should warn you, the 'Grand Senator John' has just renamed himself Emperor of the new Terran Empire. Apparently a pair of his captains and one of his former associates have... how do the humans say it... jumped ship? I thought you should be apprised of the situation considering the fact that I assume you are here for the same reasons as myself. To that end, I would also propose that we meet in person. A set of coordinates for that meeting will follow. My ships will be there at 1200 standard time tomorrow. Hopefully yours will as well.

"End transmission. Send it and attach coordinates."

She heaved a heavy sigh and plopped most un-Alpha-ly into her chair. The only comfort she had right now was the fact that the transmission was impossible to intercept. It would be... interesting to deal with the Romulans, that was for sure.

"Set course away. I don't care where, just away. Take us in a nice big loop towards the coordinates you picked. I'll be in my quarters."

So saying, she rose once more and left the bridge. She could feel the beginnings of a headache worming their way into her brain.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'Mal - High Orbit - Sick Bay
"So...what would you like, young lady? Down to the planet, over to our ship to get a little upgrade...or just stay here and let your brother play with a few more toys?"

Reshnik responded first. "Oh, I know who you are. Difference between us and you is that we're not constantly connected. Takes a mental command to do it. Silly gave me a data dump."

Selinia glared at him for that. She wished Reshnik had never learned Galactic Common sometimes, if only so that he would never have come up with that nickname for her.

"I'm sure my littermate will want to play with whatever toys he can get his grimy paws on anyways," Selinia spat, though with no real venom. "Boys and their toys. He's right though. We only share information. You Mechos share... everything... It was a really neat experience, but I wouldn't want to do it all the time. No offense. But... um... I would like to go back some time... That forest was very pretty..."

She shook her head, returning her train of thought to the correct set of tracks. "But, yes, or... no... wait a second... Oh, yeah. If you can... Wait, whoa!" She clutched the sides of her head for a moment as the enormity of his words truly struck her.

"Oh, just finally catching up to the rest of us, eh?" came her siblings quip.

She kicked at him, but he dodge out of reach, sticking out his tongue. Rather than pounce him and bludgeon him with whatever blunt object first came to hand, the floor included, she decided to ignore his comment in favor of remaining focused.

"If you can hook us up to the collective, if you can hook everyone up to the collective, then... oh gory we still have the problem of getting them to agree, and you can probably also modify your nanoprobes on the same principles, thus breaking the immunity barrier anyways. Gah, why does everything have to be so golbedamned difficult?"

"I think you mean goddamned, Silly."

"SHUT UP, will you? I'm trying to think here!"

"Oh, that's what that burning smell is?"

Reshnik found himself assaulted by a down-filled pillow and a shriek of frustration. He giggled madly and ran to hide behind Dulcinea, sticking his tongue out at his littermate.

"Brothers," Selinia huffed. "Anyways..." She paused, glaring at Reshnik in case he intended to interrupt her once more. "What I was saying is... Well... We could all be, y'know, together. One big happy, dysfunctional family. Our technology is similar enough anyways, and we're like siblings in many ways, our two races. Still, I'm getting off topic... Oh, yeah. The main reason I wanted to be enjoined was for the backup and support. No way I'm going to be able to do it alone, and, as you may have noticed, Reshnik isn't exactly helpful."

"Psh, only when it's not serious."

She rolled her eyes in response. "At any rate... I guess I'll take the upgrade and then down to the surface. We need to get this started as quick as possible. I think it would be rather beneficial to your cause if a Borg Cube was the vessel by which my people below were rejoined with our people afar. The Animarians I'm not worried about. I'm quite sure they'll be welcomed, at least after a good sniffing and a bit of posturing." She shrugged once more. "Predators."

John smiles as the beast transports away and he sends out a last hail.

"My motives are to keep these people safe, nomatter the cost"

Then the Revelation is found on the communications network.

"What are you doing? your actions have just revealed weakness"

Perius replied "What are we doing! you just went againts the Conditions of Confederacy which we all signed. No reforms can me made unless the local govenors and Federation captains both agree, you get our protection by sticking to the rules and dont think Almerius did not tell me where you are from"

"Perius, I broke the agreement because of contact with the Romulans. This changes everything and now the Gaal's think us weak, The Romulans will think likewise and join them and then what? wait for a conflict! I dont think so captain, make contact with the Romulans personally"

"Xeno-phobic Paranoia is not helping things John, The Romulans will not ally againts us unless they see a threat. As you know Almerius has promised to help you until the Federation arrives and I plan on doing the same, no civil war on the terms of no further changes. You might outnumber me John but in the end I have fought much harsher demons then you"

The communications are cut and Perius is quick in action, sure the idea of rebellion was on his mind. But this was a time for peace making and not getting a disruptor shot in your backside.

He is quick to contact Neera

"Come to Station 323, it is a Federation starbase in the middle of the...empire...also I suggest you ignore communications with the Gaal Imperium not so much an alliance with them but any news of a civil war about to erupt is not true. I have my orders to follow to protect the people of this sector and even if it means listening to Xeno-phobic idiots I will due my duty for the Federation"

He was more worried about the activites of the Romulans then the Gaal Imperium, The Romulans were like them, remanents of a superpower just trying to rebuild after a war with no idea how to begin.

He looked at the new title of his rank on the screen 'Imperial Terrain Captain' well Perius might not agree with John but it sounded better then 'Colonial Security Captain'

Commadore Neera had delayed her visit to the surface under the pretext of consulting with her superiors. Now, as the new alien animals began to withdraw, she turned to her communications officer to order a narrow-beam transmission. It was a risk, but these aliens were not in John's pocket yet, and they might be a useful source of information. She was particularly curious about the two Confederate ships, one of them Captain Perius's which had departed the system at the end of the meeting. Her order, however was preempted by the aliens themselves.

"So, John's calling himself the Emperor." Neera saw her second in command sneer contemptuously. While she kept her emotions better masked she shared the sentiment. John was a pirate, nothing more. But something else about that message tugged at the back of her mind.

"Send the following reply: we have received your message and will meet you at these neutral coordinates once we have completed or negotiations with John and consulted our superiors." Neera cut the transmission, then ordered a message sent through to John.

"I apologise, Senator, for the delay. I will be beaming down at once with two of my security personnel."

As she headed to the transporter, Neera stopped to relay a quick message to Vranik from her private terminal. She could tell the potential for a civil war disturbed him, but his orders were to continue as planned. However, he was clearly interested in the name "Terran Empire", though he kept it well-masked. Resigned to continued negotiations with this would be dictator, Neera beamed down into the new Emperor's presence, followed by her personal aid and flanked by two lightly armed security officers. As before, she was aware of the chip implanted in her arm, the last safe guard against confederate treachery.

"Emperor, my congratulations on your new title. Perhaps you are surprised that we are already informed of this event, though it shall be explained in due course. We are here to negotiate the specifics of our earlier agreement. Negotiate in good faith, and we will do the same. In token of your good faith, perhaps you can tell us why two Confederate warships left the system immediately after your meeting. In exchange, and in token of our good faith, we will tell you how we came to be informed of the proceedings down here."

Falsus crossed his arms and smiled a devious smile. "Well, I'm not sure that Freshy over there can handle our toys," he said, obviously not being serious, obviously coming to Selinia's aid and obviously giving her a name she could use just the same way that he used "Silly." "After all, they're Borg toys, and they're much more complex than anything he's ever dealt with before."

"Oh, you think so, huh?" Reshy said. With an equally mischievous smile, he threw a data pad at Falsus.

There was a soft buzz, and, the next thing he knew, it was sitting there in the old New Borg's hand, two thumbs securely holding it against the palm. It seemed that, when he wanted to, Falsus could move so fast that no one could see him. "Lose something?" he asked, the smile never leaving his face.

Selinia couldn't help but laugh. There was something likable about this old fogie despite his funny implants.

Seeing that the mood was set, Falsus, having sat the data pad down on the biobed behind him, put his arms around the two Gaal, and, raising a finger, said, "Dulcie, let our Amarinian friends know where our Gaal friends are going. And now...Mister Music, pahleeeuz!"

In a moment, they were in the middle of a Borg cube ship, and Falsus was holding on to them and grinning.

"This is Prophet's Hope," he said. "And we Borg are as connected to our ships as we are to each other. For instance...if I want to know where I am on the ship..." His left hand, the more humanoid of the two, raised a little, and, with a swish and a flourish, "immagio aquisto!" a visual map of the cube ship appeared, and scaled and focussed in on where they were.

"Now," the Borg continued, "the place where I'm taking you is over here...", the image rotated and scaled to show a point that was straight ahead, about 20 meters, "where our elite Computer Scientist, Gizmo, lives." They started walking. "Gizmo is actually a subcollective of five different computer experts. They work as a team and, together, can handle just about anything you would expect of a super geek." As they reached the end of their walk, the ceiling opened up to reveal a spire within the cube ship, made of consoles of every variety. Plugged into the consoles--literally part of them--were six New Borg, and a seventh one sat at the base of the spire. He smiled as the three of them walked up.

"Whatcha got for us now, ol' Falsie-walsie," came a voice from one of the consoles.

"Ooooooo! Looks like fresh meat!" came another.

"Now, boys," came a third, "take it easy--they're newbies, after all."

"They're the ones I told you about," Falsus said, "here to help us with their data dumps."

"Data dump! Data dump! Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvt! Vvvvvvvvvvvvvt! Vvvvvvvvvt!"

"Hey! Don't dump your data on ME! I just cleaned my memory!"

"Like, glitch out, guys. The dude with the 'tude is right for a change. We gotta do some...oh, how can I say it?"

"Kludging?"

"Kerflugle mode?"

"No...WORK."

"Work?"

"Work?"

"HIT POINT!" chimed in several voices at once.

"You're not going to miss another deadline, are you?" Falsus asked facetiously.

"WHAT?!?!?"

"Gotcha," he said.

"HIT POINT!!!"

"You've got their data encryption format, then?" Falsus asked.

"The encryption isn't the problem," one voice said.

"That's just your basic huffman plus run markers. Not even encryption really," said another.

"It's the compression algorithm that's giving us the trouble."

"We don't grok that."

"Well," Falsus said, "would it help you to have another sample, of known content?"

"Of course it would."

"Fire when ready, Gridley."

"Where does he come up with those things?" Falsus muttered under his breath.

"Spanish-American War," the voice replied. "Morals McKinley and the Moguls--everybody's favorite band of morons!"

"Well, then...Selinia, Reshy? Could you send a message back and forth and then tell us what it was?"

"I think so," Selinia said.

"Good," Falsus said, "then damn the torpedos, full speed ahead."

"Don't feed the troll, dude."

"They left the system I suppose to talk about how to deal with the current re-organization. I will not lie Romulan for what I have done today was againts the agreement the Governors of several colonies and 6 Federation captains signed, It was called the Conditions of Confederacy. I get the protection of the starfleet captains as long as I stick to the Conditions which mostly cover Citizen-Rights and basic organization. Almerius who is a Senator of the second most powerful colony in the now called Empire did not take the changes with good taste, but I have just had a talk with Captain Perius and Senator Almerius and both have agreed that the needs of the people of the sector have to come first before and Political battle can be fought. It is only a hiccup Commander and not quite a Civil war brewing"

John then clicks on a few buttons of the screen

"In a sign of goodwill, here is a map of the Empire's borders. the area's striped are under influence and not quite under our control, the same map has been given to the Gaal's but they have read to much into the situation and did not take time to look at the reasons of why a civil war or any war in general is not in our interests".

Map of the new Terrain Empire (http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i116/Belcameron/TerrainEmpire-1.jpg)

"We might not of had the best meeting Commander, I do not mean any insult to the Star Empire and never will. I am just sad it has come to this state of affairs to even make us think of trying to make allies with old rivals"

If was half true, he did mean offence yet he was sad at what had to happen to let the scenario unfold.

"Beam down, we will talk about more important matters face to face without the bitterness and anger this time"

OOC:

As per earlier discussion, I'm picking up the Federation until such time as I can be relieved. Just one thing: no backwoods dudes with broken swords, please. ;)

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IC:

From his desk in the center of Starfleet Command's Main Campus in San Francisco, Ramirez sat back and allowed himself a moment of relaxation. Times were tense, but it looked as though, knock on wood, whatever was left of the Federation just might make it out of this mess.

The Mars Defense Parimeter had officially come back online today. Though it wasn't much use against the Borg, there was still value in the return to normalcy that it symbolized. Even better, it looked as though, by the end of the week, their first ship of the line--a reconditioned Galaxy-class cruiser that had recently been christened the USS Nuremberg--would be out of space dock and on a shake-down cruise. This opened up possibilities for contact and diplomacy that the Terrans had simply not had since the end of their last war with the Borg.

And information was starting to come in! The Borg had overextended themselves, but only just slightly. It was a great relief to know that they would probably not be back any time soon. Still, one could never count them out. The Federation that came out of this incident would not be the bunch of grazing cows who had allowed the Borg to bring them to the brink of extinction. This time, the Federation would be willing to show some force if force was necessary.

At first, the Nuremberg would have to stay close, but the Federation had plans for her and a fleet of sister ships that the Engineering Corps were working overtime to produce, and would be for some years now. The alpha quadrant was wide open now. It would need a strong hand to help it regain its stability--and the Federation would not back down from this responsibility. The Federation, Ramirez was sure, was ready.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'Mal - Prophet's Hope - Nerdatorium
Selinia was absolutely delighted by the playful banter that seemed to dance between the monitors, though she was at a loss to understand the vast majority of it. These seemed like beings she would enjoy spending time with. They were her kind of people, after all, programmers, though these five, or this one depending on your perspective, lived in a manner she could only imagine: pure code. It must be spectacular, bending the flow of data by pure will, instinctively altering any command line to exact your every thought and whim.

Shaking her head, she finally answered them. "Yeah, I think so... but there's no need. Probably the reason it's giving you fits is... well, I altered the compression algorithm a bit. My own personal code." She giggled, happy that even the Mechos couldn't crack it. "Y'see, me 'n Reshy, we're pair bonded. So, I didn't want just anyone being able to cut in on our data streams... I just need an input-" A monitor swiveled to face her, displaying the Gaal alphabet as touch keys. "Oh well, there we go."

Her fingers flew across the console. This was her element, this was her passion. It was barely a minute before she stepped back with a nod.

"There, you've got the basic Gaal compression algorithm, basic subspace communication frequencies, and a translation matrix. You probably don't need it for the language, since you've got our alphabet already, but now you can send and receive along our frequencies without needing to create your own virtual interface."

She grinned, then turned to her littermate as he gave a short cry, accompanied by a shower of sparks. "Damnit Reshy, can't you keep your bloody paws off of anything?"

Reshnik had also been awed by the nerdcore, but for an entirely different reason. They had things in this room he had only ever dreamed about. Vulcan equivalent supercomputers, hypercooling pumps, mobile holoemitters, virtual interface stations, and more, so much more... His fingers twitched as the thoughts of what he could make with all this at his disposal. He could be forgiven if his paws took him to stand before one of the virtual interfaces and his fingers rose of their own volition, tugging at wires, pulling at panels, fiddling with anything that fell within their range. He could also be forgiven if, while his mind wandered over the possibilities, his body became annoyed with the resisting station and began to pull with more force, eventually grasping a cable and planting his paws against the machine, tugging it hard enough to finally pull it free.

He startled back to reality, holding the frayed end of a cable in one hand, looking up at his sibling from his back. "I can fix it! I swear!"

Nebula XR5-632-B - Janeway's Echo
Both Gaal flagships were running on low energy, cloaked, and hiding within the nebula. The electromagnetic emissions of the gaseous cloud would hide them from even the most advanced sensors under these conditions. Alpha Teshla lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The twitching tip of her tail, which had slipped out from beneath the silken sheets to hang over the edge, was the only indication of the thoughts that swarmed her mind. She slid carefully from the bed, padding silently over to the nourishment dispenser. She punched in an order for a warm, mildly alcohlic beverage known by her people as kleftic. It was made from the boiled leaves of a plant native to the rodent homeworld, the juice left to ferment for ten years before consumption. It was widely drunk throughout the Imperium and quite effective at relaxing a frayed nerves.

The bulky form she had left on the bed stirred, grunting. A large head lifted from the pillows, feline eyes glowing in the almost-dark, ebony stripes upon flame-red fur barely visible to normal vision. Alpha Teshla saw him as clearly as though it were day.

"Is something wrong, Alpha?" Gamma Murlan rumbled, stroking the still warm spot where she had lain with one massive paw.

Alpha Teshla shook her head, taking a sip of her kleftic. The heady scent of their mating still lay heavy within the room. She took a deep breath, their mingled aromas twining with the spice of the kleftic, filling her senses. Mating was a common stress reliever among the Gaal, particularly on starships. There was no chance of impregnating the female unless she was in season, and Alpha Teshla most certainly was not. She had little doubt that others were partaking of this particular pastime as well. The crew of both ships had been given leave to transfer freely between the two, and she heard rumor than a rodent orgy had broken out in the Phoenix's messhall. She would not be surprised. Rodents were notoriously randy and well known for being less than picky as to their partners.

She sighed softly, taking another sip then set her cup on the table. She had needed what came before, the frantic, animalistic give and take of bestial copulation, female and male twining and parting, meeting as one before going their separate ways only to come together yet again. Now, she needed something else. Her hips switched seductively from side to side as she padded back towards her tactical officer. The much larger tiger gave a growl of approval, shifting to sit at the edge of the bed, hands on his knees, eyes traversing every inch of her slender form as it approached. Alpha Teshla noted that he was as tall sitting down as she was standing up. She almost giggled at the inane observation, but held herself back. That would break the mood.

She stopped before him, her swishing tail slowly drooping to hang near the floor, ears tucking against her head, eyes downcast. It was all the encouragement he needed. She gasped as he lifted her from the floor, pressing her back against the bedcovers, forcibly spreading her legs and driving into her, hard, fast, heedless of her cries. This was what she wanted, what she needed. It seemed that the galaxy around her was spinning out of control, her mission was spinning out of control, and here she was being taken with no control. And yet, she still had control. She could tell him to stop at any moment, and he would cease his jackhammer pounding with no complaint. They would part ways with no bad feelings between them.

Instead, she gave into him, allowed him to ravish her, moaning as he filled her. She twined her legs behind his waist, hips rising to meet his, clawed fingers digging into his shoulders even as his own dug into her hips. And it was not short by any means, oh no. Gamma Murlan reputedly had spent years perfecting his techniques. Whether it was true or not, she cared little. She cared only for the pressure that swiftly built in the pit of her stomach, a warmth that rose to encompass her entire being in a sense-obliterating explosion. And again, and again. She was mewling like a kitten before he finally joined her in a last cry, roaring his pleasure for all to hear, claiming his mate in traditional fashion.

She lay limp and exhausted beneath him, nuzzling against the tender hand that caressed her cheeks. Eventually he pulled away, but she stopped him, legs tightening about his waist, wanting to feel the primal connection between them for a little while longer. He nodded, taking one leg and bending it up to nearly touch her chest, her natural flexibility making possible a maneuver that many another being would envy. He shifted to lay behind her, an arm around her slender waist, pulling her against his downy-furred stomach. Their combined purrs vibrated the very air within the room. She lay snuggled against him, content, feeling him soften within her.

Control was not the issue. No, it was how she responded to any given situation. If she had control or not, she could still respond. She could either attempt to force her own outcome or she could go with the flow, as the humans said, riding the waves of circumstance until she saw an opportune moment to turn the tides of fate. She rested a hand against her stomach as she snuggled against the much larger tiger, pulling a pillow beneath her head. Her fingers ruffled and tangled the fur of her abdomen. She almost wished she were in season so that there would be some reminder of this night, something beyond their shared memories. But again, that was out of her control. She contented herself with the thought that they could repeat it as often as necessary.

The Romulans would come or not. The Terran Empire would flourish or not. The Federation would rise from the ashes or not. Her only concern now would be to ensure that her people were made aware of the goings on. The Elders would decide the best course of action. She would enact their decisions. For now, there was nothing but waiting. Waiting and slumber. She felt her eyes close, mind drifting, still connected to Gamma Murlan in the most visceral of manners. Sleep took her off to the warm fields and dark forests of her childhood.

"Mmy Godd," a slowed-down voice said as the console erupted, "it'shh ffulll ovvv shhhtarzhhh."

"No need, dude," said another one of the voices. "We're the Borg. It fixes itself."

"Bonded, eh? So THAT'S why they aren't wearing any--."

"Now, now," Falsus said. "Go easy on the newbies."

The terminal snorted.

"OK. Let's see...we just feed the cute little solution matrix into the cute little translation encoder and..." A holographic screen popped up in front of Reshnik, and, on it, a yellow circle split into a shape like a pie with a piece cut out of it, then closed back again. It was vaguely reminiscent of opening and closing jaws. As this happened, a sound played that was something like a cross between a sick dolphin and squeaky shoes. Whacka-whacka-whacka it went. "...dinner is served!"

In a moment, Reshy received an information file detailing the specifications of the virtual interface console in front of him, and how to set it and several variants up using a pure hologram.

"You grok that, dude?"

As those words were said, another file came in. This one was entitled "The Official Borg Hacker's Dictionary." Included was an entry for the word "grok"--to intuitively understand or interpret (word origin: Robert Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land).

Selinia got a file, too. Hers was entitled: Best of Show: the Obfuscated Level-4 Neurological Networking Language Contest.

"Why, I think they like you," Falsus said. "Now, if only I could get them to take their job seriously..."

"HIT POINT!!!!!"

Cameron laid down in a brig on the ISS Conquest, the galaxy class of the new Imperial Starfleet.

Outside the force-field stood a asian women, in typical Federation captain uniform.

"Why were you there Commander? and firing on Imperial Personel?"

"You walked into a room filled with the civilian government and started shooting, what the hell was I meant to do? you trigger loving HICK!" He stands up and walks towards the force field.

"I was under orders from Senator Almerius to bring the planet back into the control of what was then the Confederacy. The planet is the only other M class planet we have, without good investment the 'Empires' Capital will become over-populated and that would leave to the same problems we had on Earth during the last years of the war. With a impossible to counter crime rate and in the first time in years the Federation had to employ rations for basic materials on a wide scale"

"I know what happened commander, I was there"

"No you were not, I know your type. You were the age to join starfleet but like so many other cowards they saw the call to war as a suicide pact, You leave people like me and so many other Federation people to die. You complained about the rations and labor shortages while ships were destroyed in single shots from the hundreds of cubes. Do not try and act like some hero from the wars, only reason you joined this Imperial Starfleet is because it's so easy to join during peacetime"

A man walks in and whispers in her ear.

"The ISS Revelation has come out of warp near us and Senator Almerius has cleared the situation"

Cameron taps his badge and then said "Sorry have go now, because I can bet all the paperwork you have to sign for my release will take ages" and in a flash of blue light he vanishes

He is in Perius's room and finds the captain staring out the window

"I am not even going to ask what happened at Devenis, I can guess"

Perius smiles as he turns around

"We are the Terrain Empire now and you are a Imperial Commander, we have been ordered to head towards Starbase 234 on the Edge of Imperial influence we are here with a Nova Class vessel that is going to be the stations protection"

"What is the state of the fleet?"

"They have salvaged another Steamrunner ship and 1 Ambassador Class, they will be ready in 2 months. The shipyards have been improved since we first expected them and the Confederate class is going to be ready in 4 months"

"What is John planning? further expansion?"

"No, we have enough ships to expand further already. sure most of the fleet are still Raven Class vessels and Runabouts, but this move to create a Empire is troubling. If what Almerius told me is true then he comes from the Mirror universe"

Cameron laughs "you cannot be serious, no scientist has even proved it's existance"

"I trust the words of Captain Kirk's experiences far more then scientist's and if what I hear is true then there is only one place John truely wants to control"

"You cannot mean!"

"Yes, Earth. The Federation is weak, they lost all there large shipyards during the war and the only vessels left are outdated and weak with most likely typical Federation standard technology. The members of the Federation council are to busy licking there wounds of there homeworlds before putting the Federation first, in the end all the federation has is what is left of Starfleet and you know as well as I do that after the war we only had 10% of the Fleet left with 3% of it under repairs"

"So what is the plan?"

"We keep a eye on the Empire, try and limit it's expansion and if anything try and gather support. The Empire brings hope, but the return of the federation is what we must aim for and Station 234 has a communications array that if repaired can contact Earth"

"and the Nova class vessel?"

"I sent a team to work undercover, When the time is right we will take it over and disable the vessel"

"That can just lead to Civil war"

"No, civil war is to be avoided. We will just disable it's abilities to communicate and warp drive, that can just be a mechanical problem. The Romulans are aching for a civil war, it means they can plant seeds of influence and we cannot allow that. Nomatter what has happened to the Romulan Empire they are still acting like they normally would, gathering intelligence and waiting for the right moment"

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Prophet's Hope - Nerdcore
"Not wearing any what?" Selinia inquired, glancing down at herself.

Reshnik meanwhile, nearly fell on his rump as the screen appeared then shouted, "Packman!" He attempted to hug the yellow sphere, nearly falling once more when his arms passed right through the hologram. His ears tucked with embarrassment as he straightened once more. "Sorry... I always thought he was... y'know, squishy and cute..."

Selinia shook her head at her sibling's antics. "He ran into some human who had a collection of ancient earth entertainment files. And this... wow, this is going to take a while to... erm... well, assimilate. That's some very nice stuff, and wow, I'd never have thought of doing that..." She trailed off, exchanging glances with her littermate. "Wow." She glanced up at Falsus, putting on her most adorable face, hands clasped together, looking very much the begging puppy. "Can I stay here? Forever? Please?"

"Gory, I wouldn't mind spending a lifetime or two, myself, but..." He points downwards. "We got other things to take care of first, Silly." He sighs, looking around once more, taking in every inch of the room. "If wishes was fishes, no otter would go hungry."

"You're certainly welcome back any time you like," Falsus said, "but Reshy is right. We've got some business to tend to--for which you'll need to go back to the Anamarinians' ship and I'll need to stay here. Hope I'll be seeing you again soon. In the meantime, you can access our data stores with your brain stem computers now."

"We'll keep in touch, too," Gizmo said. "We can always use someone else on the team--if you're good enough."

And with that, Selinia and Reshy found themselves back in the sick bay aboard the Zophia. It was not the friendliest of situations. The EMH had been reactivated, and he wasn't in the best of moods.

"You come in here like some schoolgirl, turning my sick bay into your own personal toy, and then you kidnap two people right out from under my nose, and you expect me to just laugh and pretend that everything is perfectly fine?"

"Oh, look," Dulcinea said, her warm smile not leaving her face, "they're back--and none the worse for wear. In fact, if you wanna check 'em, you'll find that they're completely unaltered, and, unless they wanna see what how red that cute little face of yours gets when you're really angry, they'll also tell you that we never took 'em anyplace they didn't want to go. No kidnapping, just the nickel tour."

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

OOC: It's been a while since I've seen any posts from Anamarinia. I certainly hope he's still active in the thread. I'd appreciate it if he was involved with this. A joint Borg-Anamarinian task force to reestablish contact with the Federation would be a good thing at this point. I'll tell you right now that, if Ramires found a Borg Tactical cube anywhere within range of his sensors, he'd shoot first and not even bother asking any questions. :) :) :)

(ooc, Neera's already beamed down, she's standing in John's offices right now).

Standing before the new Emperor, Neera forced herself to swallow her pride and acknowledge the odious little dictator's words. Still, she would make sure to mention her doubts in her next report, though she knew both Vranik and Tomall were aware of them.

"I will accept your apology for the offense you gave to the memory of our Empire. But I should warn you that many of my men would have shot you on sight for that. It is not a threat, mearly a regrettable reality.

The Empire is gone. But our people are not. We mean to have order, peace and security. We will have it, but Vranik wishes to achieve it alongside the Confederacy, not against it. We will respect your territorial sovereignty, and we thank you for your map. It will prove most informative.

The Governor has authorised me to propose the following terms for a mutual non-agression pact: We will officially declare our recognition of your Empire as a legitimate Government and agree to respect your territory. We will also over look your violation of the treaty of Algeron by the deployment of cloaking devices, and agree to suspend that and all other treaties with the Federation as regards your empire, in recognition of your status as a legitimate government. In addition, we will negotiate the exchange of citizens within our respective territories.

In return, you will recognize our right to claim any Beta Quadrant territory that is unclaimed by a legitimate nation at the time of contact. We will in turn agree to grant you free reign in the Alpha Quadrant, of course. Furthermore, you will agree to respect our territorial boundaries and sovereignty.

Finally, we will both agree to initiate no hostile action against the other party or any legitimate state allied to them.

Governor Vranik will be here to negotiate the details with you personally once he has resolved certain issues at home. He has also instructed me to indicate his willingness to compromise on some of the terms of this proposed treaty. For now, it is enough for him mearly to know weather the general outline is acceptable to you, Emperor.

As I said, we want stability, and we will negotiate if nessissary to achieve it. And now, I will demonstrate that good faith by informing you that the Gaal transmitted their version of your meeting to us as soon as they departed. Build your own alliances, Emperor, but trust no one, least of all the Gaal. Im sure you know that lesson well."

As she concluded her presentation, Neera found herself again reflecting on the enormity of what was happening here. Such a bold and open declaration was a sharp departure from traditional Romulan politics and strategy, and betting so heavily on the success of John's Empire was a risky gamble, likely to lead more to emnity and mistrust than security. This negotiation was also the first time that the new Romulan nation had acted openly as a sovereign state. She still didn't know weather she approved of Vranik's regiem, but at this point she had little choice. Events were moving to quickly for her, for them all. Vranik was pressing to make what gains he could, before the quadrant either coallessed or exploded. Now was not the time for internal dissent, and Vranik was using that knowledge to silence any resistance. She had heard Tomall's reports from home, and the Admiral hardly seemed pleased. Neera knew that against a lesser man, he would be the leader, and she knew the knowledge of that fact gnawed at him. She only hoped he did nothing rash. If any man could best John on his own political turf, it was the Governor.

"Yes, the general outline seems fine. Naturally I would need to know what borders you have control of if I am to respect them, I doubt you have control over the entire Star Empire.

You cannot exactly think I will except these limits to my expansion, My entire Empire is in the Beta Quadrant so it's not really practical that I can only expand into the Alpha Quadrant when my influence does not even reach that far yet. That is a matter that I will talk to with the Govenor. Until then i will simply respect the Neutral zone as my limits and not touch a inch of Romulan space without permission from your government.

Naturally I will respect any alliances you have, I just hope they do the same. For the Gaal they will do what they think is right, I know they proposed to join the Federation before the war but I have no heard much of what they have actually done since. I will give you this warning, whatever you tell the Gaal there is a big chance it can be repeated to the Federation Council.

When your Govenor arrives I will meet with him, I think this is going to need a few changes"

"Thank you, that will be welcome news for the Governor. In the meantime, we should begin drawing up plans for the identification and transport of nationals in eachother's space, or I can return to my ship, if you prefer."

"Well I can organize a convoy of 3 raven class vessels and 5 Runabouts to escort about 12 large barges which can carry 800 people each, They are used mostly for industry but we refitted most to be able to ship large populations in a small amount of time.

There are currently about 15,000 Romulans living in Terran Space most of them living in the Regulus system which has another colony of the Empire, with a population of about 600,000.

It is up to you if this convoy transports the Romulans to your base of operations or it goes to your base of operations to pickup any Federation citizens who wish to come. I am not so naive to think they will all be interested since I am no federation, all I offer is security and to no offense a more friendly atmosphere"

John knew it was in his best interests to keep the Romulans at least on friendly terms, he had more reason to keep them close then any other power in existence.

More so that if they realized what the Terran's did to the Romulans in there version of the Earth-Romulan War then goodness knows what might happen, That war did not end in stalemate at all.

(post coming up from me. been busy and Jolt Borked everytime I tried to post so..watch this space)

Sickbay
Doyle had spent some time tracking down her guests who had seemingly wandered off eventually she ended up in sickbay; as her ear communicator buzzed; “Doyle Go?” she said holding the button down to speak.

“Skipper; Incoming ships; two Phoenix’s and a Humpback to take the cargo back home; and finish the salvage here; we’ve picked it clean for the most part; and it’ll take just over 20 minutes to move everything over so we can head out” Frakes said over the communicator.

“All right; we’ll be there in 20” she said with a nod; finally spotting Selina.

“We’ve been looking for you; well our picket has arrived so we should start to get underway to Vega” she said with a simple nod and a smile looking for the EMH; who she assumed they’d spent the last hour talking to. Most of the salvaged ships had already gone to warp and were heading for the home-world where they would spend time in the yard undergoing final repairs before being re-commissioned. The Intrepid was due to get underway soon itself now its warp drive was online and structural problems had been repaired.

“Time to go to the command deck” Doyle said simply; “I’d prefer you on the bridge when we arrive, in case your people start shooting at us the moment we drop out of Hyperspace “ Doyle said appreciatively; it was one of her real worries; showing up and being fired at first without being asked any questions.

OOC @ Annamarinia: I missed ya! Glad you're back! Sorry to hear 'bout the 'blems. Glad you're overcoming them!

Now...whom was Doyle asking up to the command deck? Selinia? Reshy? Dulcinea? The EMH?

What's Doyle's given name again?

Dastardly Stench;13828539']OOC @ Annamarinia: I missed ya! Glad you're back! Sorry to hear 'bout the 'blems. Glad you're overcoming them!

Now...whom was Doyle asking up to the command deck? Selinia? Reshy? Dulcinea? The EMH?

What's Doyle's given name again?

Selina and Reshy; though Dulcinea is welcome to take the offer too; and her given name is Elizebeth

(OOC: hopefully I'll be updating more regularily starting next week. The next few post will hopefully reveal a lot of what I've been working towards since this thread started).

Vranik waited for yet another heated argument to die out. When it was done, he took the floor and turned to address Councilors Reylor and Vannon, the source of the latest heated debate on the new Constitution. Reylor was a tall, dark man with a pinched face and cold, hard eyes. He had been a wealthy and powerful man before the war, and had retained control of much of the system's resources, though he had put them indefinately at Vranik's disposal. Not out of any charitable motivation; of that Vranik was sure. rather, the former "personel" manager in charge of the Remian slaves had done it to gain a place in the political order of the day, and unfortunately, he had succeded. Vannon, on the other hand, was in charge of much of the systym defences. A patriot to his core, Vannon had made no secret of both his personal and profesional antagonism towards the oportunistic Reylor.

"Councilor Vannon, decorum please." When Vannon fell silent, Vranik turned to face Reylor, but his words were to the Coucil as a whole.

"I understand the posision you are in, Reylor. And believe me, I will never bow to the threat of force. But we cannot afford to fight a revolt and hold the external threats at bay at the same time. Even for those who were proud of the Empire's tradition of racial slavery, surely the Shinzon incident was enough to show that this practice is untenable for the long term survival of the Romulan people. Slaves without education can serve no function worth having in an advanced civilization, but if we teach our slaves, they will learn to want more than the lot you are willing to ascribe to them. And why not? The Remian people fought as hard as we in the war. Harder than you, I dare say. We can do the just and honorable deed in granting them there freedom, and save our selves much cost. Or we can cling to the untenable past, and live on the backs of others, forever afraid that they will throw us off."

Reylor sneered.

"The untenable past, Vranik? Is this the respect for Romulan traditions that you spoke so elloquently of? Empty words, like all your pretty speeches!"

Vannon leaped to his feet again.

"How dare you? What wealth or power would you have, would any of us even be alive, without his leadership? I fought beside Remians in the war, and they have earned more by their sacrifices than ever you did with your's!"

"I said that you should maintain..." began Vranik, but Reylor interupted.

"I have no time for your hero-worship. Six of my men were killed in that blast, eleven in just this last month. Rebellion is growing. It must be crushed. If your men will not do their duty, I will take my personel's security into my own hands." Vranik stared coldly at Reylor, and Vannon's face was a mask of ill-controlled fury. It was said most Romulans rarely showed passion, but when they did, it was as if a storm had been unleashed. Reylor seemed to realize he had gone to far, but it was too late to take back the words. Vannon spoke clearly for the whole Council to hear.

"My men will do their duty, Reylor. And if you attempt to usurp law enforcement's jurisdiction, I can have a warrent for your arrest in one hour."

"Enough!" Vranik's voice was like a whip. "We cannot afford this bickering. The people look to us for strength. We are building a new nation!" Vranik paused, his eyes sweeping round the room.

"But let me make this clear: I will sign to no Constitutional document which perpetuates the existence of slavery in this new nation. Now, let us turn to the matter of fleet reconstruction. Chief Nisora, your presentation?"

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - High Orbit - Sickbay
Selinia and Reshnik were busy recounting their adventure within the cube to the EMH when Captain Doyle arrived. The two were bouncing like excited five-year-olds and jabbering away. And then the Captain broke the news.

"Um... We can't go just yet..." Selinia said. "We kinda hafta go back down for a bit first. We... uh... wanted to show Miss Dulcinea around..."

"Well, not quite," Reshnik cut in. "Well... there are others down there, and besides just bringing them home... We need them to make friendly with the new Mechos."

"'Cause it'll help loads when we get home. And we were thinking... Not to offend you or anything, 'cause you've been very nice, and you have a really cool ship, and I still wanna talk to the doc here, I haven't even got a chance to yet, but we were thinking it would be better if they took us home instead of you. It'd go a long way towards patching relations. It'd be good for you to come with us, but better for us to ride with them."

"We just need to get those down below to not kill us when we show up with Miss Dulcinea here. And that's gonna be the challenge."

"So... can we stay a little longer?"

The two stood before the captain, adopting attitudes similar to those of naughty children caught in the act.

"Hi, sis," Dulcinea said with a girlish grin. "Looks like I'm causin' trouble again.

"I think they're right, though. From a diplomatic standpoint, reuniting these refugees with their families would be a tremendous opportunity for our people to demonstrate their good will. Besides, if what our sensor readings are telling us is true, neither we nor you will be able to take them all home at the same time, but, together, we might."

The Station was going through repairs quickly enough, they had repaired most of the main systems and the Communications array was back online.

"Any luck?" Perius said through the doorway hopefully at the two engineers plus Cameron

"We can reach Andoria, but that is about it. I want to atleast reach Vulcan before we try any communications since Andoria was almost destroyed in the attack" Cameron knew allot of these things, he was not at the final battle in the Sol System but he fought in pretty much every other major battle.

The Vulcans were smart move about 40% of it's population out of the system before it was attacked, the fleet sent there was under the command of Admiral Regent who sadly was killed in second with most of the fleet. It ended in a Borg retreat but only due to the use of false warp signiture showing another fleet entering the area.

But that was at the start of the war, before Starfleet did a little adapting of it's own to Borg technology and every battle was a complete defeat of the forces sent.

Cameron was no better, Perius knew he was on a ship that was assimilated and he was eyewitness to seeing his fellow officers being turned into Borg drones and was only saved when he revealed a very deep secret...he was genetically altered at a young age to have surperior mind and body. He ripped the drones around him apart and he somehow had a natural immunity to Borg Nanoprobes.

"Andoria will still be rebuilding and in no shape to send a message to Earth, Vulcan was barely saved and has the technlogy to contact Earth. Hopefully they have enough contact to tell Starfleet that we are out here. I suspect only Earth remains fully intact so the ideal situation would be to power up this baby to enough strength to contact the Heart of the Federation itself" Cameron said this somewhat depressed, the scars of war still ebbing into his conscious.

He then continues "Whats the news with Captain Fisher?"

"She is at Alpha-Beta, the planet now has a population of about 120 million so Almerius needs a few ships to help with keeping the world safe"

"The Romulans are stronger then they try to make themselves out to be, there organizational structure is allot more sophisicated then the Empire. All we are is a Alliance of Several Govenors and Federation captains, we all work for our own agenda and allow free trade and movement of population. all the change to Empire did was make the Council permanent and make the Fleet a official arm of the Colonies. They are soon going to have to choose a Admiral and even tho he does not trust you he will offer it to you"

"He will offer me the position of Admiral if he feels like only I can keep the fleet in order, which at the moment is the case since even with the Captains trained on Devenis they still need me to tell them what to do in times of need like the invasion by the Pirate Lords a year back"

A beep sounds and a texted message appears on a nearby screen

"Message from John, suppose you better head off now"

Chief Nisora quickly briefed the Council on the plans she had drawn up. She managed to keep her anxiety in check, but it was hard. It was unheard of for someone in her possision, a mear repair man when all was said and done, to be tasked with designing a new warship. But these were hardly conventional times. The Council listened as she outlined the new cruiser's capabilities.

"We call it the Eagle class torpedo cruiser. It incorporates design principles of both the Romulan Empire and the United Federation of Planets. It is still capable of delivering an overwelming opening salvo, but it is also intended to have greater durability and superior firing arcs for protracted fleet combat. The hull is roughly diamond shaped, though elongated towards the bow. In addition to 4 bow and 2 aft torpedo launchers, it is armed with two torpedo turrets on the dorsal and ventral hulls, allowing it to fire a salvo of 8 torpedos in 4 seconds in any direction. It's rated for a maximum 800 megaton forward salvo, again spread over 4 seconds. Its shields and armor together are rated at close to 500 megatons. Secondary weapons include two dorsal and two ventral disruptor banks. It is designed as a combination heavy raider and light cruiser.

The second design is what we are tentatively calling the Romulus class fleet carrier. It is superficially similar to the Scimitar in shape, though only a fraction the size, and its internal areas have been stripped of heavy weapons systems to be replaced with fighter bays. It can serve either as an alternate approach to fleet combat, or in concert with the Eagle Class, the former harrying an enemy after the latter breaks through their line. A secondary purpose would be as a fleet escort."

Vannon was quick to ask:

"How soon can we deploy such ships?"

"It will be about 2 months for preliminary design, plus another 8 for prototype construction and testing, perhaps 12-14 before we can begin to field them. And that's if we can capture an intact fleet yard."

There were dubious murmurs, but Vranik was quick to interrupt.

"Some old intelligence data indicates that Vulcan may have been spared the worst of the war. It is possible that it will possess an intact fleet yard. To this end, I will be dispatching Commadore Zahn immediately. I had meant to wait until a Constitution could be drawn up, but this new Terran Empire's ambitions make delaying dangerous if we are to secure our claims."

* * *

Vranik sat in his study in the fading light, thinking back to his first nighttime meeting with Zahn, off the record.

"What do you wish to discuss, Governor? You know these visits are risky, and I am busy with preparing for the missions to which you have assigned me."

"I want to know why, Zahn. You've haven't really told me."

Zahn gave that strange, inscrutable smile again.

"Why I am offering you my advice, you mean?"

"And why you have neither offered nor asked for more?"

"Governor, you know that's not how the game is played."

"Yet you have not even given a single hint as to you're true motive."

"Really? Then allow me to elaborate. I have on duty, and one alone. My duty to the Romulan people. I believe that, under the circumstances, you are more fit to lead them than Tomall."

"Then why not give me more? Why mearly advice, confirming what I already suspect?"

"Because far more important than who the leader is is that we have unity. We must coalless quickly behind one leader. You know this. This is why I have chosen such a course. I will back which ever of you can claim the dominant possision. When the outcome is clear, I will stand beside the victor, and my support will allow them to consolidate swiftly. But I will not act to prolong conflict by artificially bolstering your strength if you cannot hold to power on your own "merits."

"And what of the other Commadores?"

"Panak is a devoted soldier, but he lacks either imagination or ambition. It is likely that he will side with whoever holds an appearance of legitimacy. As for Neera, duty for her is a matter of obeying orders. She will follow the chain of command, where ever that leads. Marginalize Tomall, and you can hope for the support of both my fellows."

Vranik smiled.

"So I either win it all in one fell swoop, or lose it all at once."

"Indeed."

"And if I fail? Where do you stand then?"

"I will stand by Tomall. I will proclaim his victory for all to hear, and I will deliver you into his hands. No proof of our meetings will ever be had."

"Some would call that opportunism, or cowardess."

Zahn smiled again.

"I call it living to serve. I have a duty to my people, and I mean to see it done."

Snapping back to the present, Vranik hoped he had chosen his allies well. Zahn had said he would give him Vulcan. But if he tried treachery... well, there were always the alternative plans.

* * *

Admiral Tomall waived his guest to an empty seat, then passed him a glass of Romulan Ale, one of the last from Romulus itself.

"to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, Reylor?"

"I trust anything I say here will be kept in the strictest confidence?"

"Of course, unless doing so would contravene my duty."

"Your duty to Vranik, or to the heritage of Romulus?"

Tomall bristled.

"I am a loyal Romulan, not a usurper from a peripheral colony."

Reylor smiled slyly.

"I trust you were not pleased with Vranik's stance regarding the Remian chatel?"

"I cannot say that I was, but it may yet be used to undermine him."

"Not if you wait. Half the Council is behind him already, and the rest are too afraid to challenge them. Which leaves you and me. If we do not act quickly, every proud tradition the sons of Romulus died for shall be lost."

"And if Vranik is ousted? What price must be paid for your support?"

"My business will have a monopoly on labour and services, and will be free to operate as I see fit, within reasonable limits."

"We will discuss this matter further. Meet me here in 14 hours time. Until then, draw whatever plans you see fit, but do nothing until we have spoken again."

(Sorry for the double post, but some one's got to keep this thread going;)).

Commadore Neera nodded.

"Imagine a line passing through Regulus, on the edge of your territory, and Echo 3, cutting across the Beta Quadrant. Perhaps, as a temporary measure only, we could restrict ourselves to claiming new territory above that line, and you could limit your fleets to claiming new territory below it. As a temporary measure only. Understand that I have Vranik's full backing in proposing this compromise, and I assure you it will be honored until the Governor negotiates a more permanent arrangement."

((OOC: Thats fine, need to keep the posts moving along))

"I will accept those terms until the Govenor arrives" John takes his pipe out again and starts to smoke.

"I will also add any attempt to take control over a founding planet of the Federation in the meantime is not a good idea, you will anger all of my Federation trained Captains"

John said this since not expanding upwards went againts his own plans for the long term, naturally he had no intention of stopping his expansion into ex-federation territory on his side of the old Neutral-Zone even if it was in the Beta-Quadrant.

Far as he was concerned the Romulans could not afford to expect free movement allowing them to take the worlds that had to be put under the control of the Terran Empire if he was to claim it as a successor state.

Even as the three nations' representatives met, Prophet's Hope emerged from the far side of the planet's moon. With the way things were going, for them to continue to try to hide would have been useless.

----------

OOC: What? A bump? ME? Never!

The ship was in a state of upheaval. With the Anamarinian Ambassador's move from Friendship and Valor, and the anticipated arrival of the Gaal refugees, the already-tight space got even tighter.

----

OOC:

Beginning
Unrelenting
Mutual
Protection

Commadore Zahn sat stiffly in his seat on the bridge of the upgraded Klingon cruiser of which he had been given temporary command. Flanking him were a couple of other small, obsolete ships. This was not the force he had envisioned commanding when he set out to contact Vulcan. It was hardly an impressive show of military might. But the "Terran Empire" had forced Vranik's hand. And he would soon have more reinforcements, now that Neera's preliminary negotiations had been concluded.

He thought back to his earlier conversations with Vranik. Whatever he told the Governor, he was running a serious risk of detection, and death at his commanding officer's hands. And he was doing it because it was right. With his infamously inscurtable smile and keen eye for analysing data, his cold and distant exterior and sharply strict command, few would have seen him as an idealist. He prefered it that way. The deadliest blow came from the unseen assailant. Besides, Zahn was not a man given to public displays of any kind.

"Launch clearance granted." The shipyard administrator's voice brought Zahn back to the duties at hand. In the background, the strains of patriotic music swelled to images of proud ships, cheering crowds, and once, briefly, old Romulus. Zahn's cold exterior was unchanged, but he could not help being swept up in it all. Now Vranik's voice rang out over the transmissions.

"My friends, citizens, and fellow Romulans. Today is a day when we take our first step to reclaiming our former glory. Today, we will make ourselves known to the Federation. Today, we will claim a new home for our civilization, a return to the world that was once ours. Today, we will show this quadrant that we will never hide, never shrink, never be dependent on others for our security again. Peace for our people. Glory to the Sons of Romulus!"

Zahn turned to the helmsman as the Governor concluded his speech.

"Take us out." He smiled again, but there was a certain grimness to it now.

"I will give you Vulcan." But at what cost?

John looks out to the main city on Devenis, it was named Earit and was simply made for large scale industry. Towers spewing fumes into the atmosphere as they process the many different metals in the world.

"The Romulans are trying to block our contact with the federation that much is obvious, send a small fleet to do a fling shot around this line they have drawn up. This fleet is to land on the colony of New France, there you will bring the long rang sensor devices into the control of the Empire. Then we can keep a eye on the heart of the Federation" He handed over a datapad to a Imperial Captain named Yulin Tsar.

"We dont have the time for mistakes Captain, the Romulans are trying to block our knowleage of the galaxy"

"yes Emperor and if the Romulans try and stop us?"

"Then tell them it's under the terms of agreement and if they try and force us to stop...destroy them. You will be taking 16 ships with you"

The Captain smiles, he looks over the list of ships to come with him

"I will not let you down Emperor" He gives a quick bow and then exits the room

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Planet Surface
Selenia took a deep breath as she materialized on the planet's surface once more, Dulcinea and Reshnik with her. She knew it may very well be the last time she ever saw the place and wanted to remember well the land she had called home for so many years. It had been a good run, at least, lots of fun and adventure, danger and peril. Despite the cruelties fate had visited upon her people in the form of the Mechos, she had enjoyed her life here. Now, everything was about to change.

She had given the Mechos coordinates just outside the cave that housed the remainder of her people, and so they had only to walk inside and let themselves down the lift. She was startled to realize that it had been only a few short hours since she had last ascended the elevator, less than half a day. She shook her head in wonder. So many things had happened in so short a time. She was unprepared for the greeting that awaited them at the bottom of the shaft.

Where normally she would find her littermate there hunched a large wolf, twice her size and at least three times her weight. Its lips were pulled back in a snarl, and a deep, rumbling growl issued from its throat as it launched itself at them.

Selenia squeeled as it landed atop her, shouting, "Wait! Wait! Viscor, it's me! It's me!"

Instead of bringing those flesh rending teeth to bear on the much smaller mustelid, the wolf instead snuffled its nose at her chest before picking her up in a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey, hey!" he cried. "Didn't expect you back so soon, short stuff! What, the humans didn't like you?"

He let the female down, noticing the other two, Reshnik waiting with tapping paw and raised brow. He sniffed towards Dulcinea, brow furrowing.

"Hey, you brought a friend. Doesn't smell human. Smells..." His eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, pulling back. He turned his head back down the tunnel as he shouted, "Me-"

His cry ended in a soft yipe as Selenia's laden pack struck the back of his skull. The female immediately began to fret, dancing around with paws against her muzzle, moaning softly.

"Ooooh, that was the wrong thing to do, the wrong thing! But I couldn't have him screaming about Mechos, that would be worse! Oh, I'm so horrible at this kinda thing! See? This is why I need help!"

The wolf moaned softly, a hand coming up to rub the back of his head as he blinked, confused as to why he was on the cavern floor. He squeeked as his muzzle was suddenly snapped shut by the straps of Selenia's pack as the female wound them about his jaws.

"Um... Miss Dulcinea, can you talk to him? I didn't do so well."

Sol System - System Edge
Two refitted Defiants and a trio of Gaal Falcons entered normal space just outside Pluto orbit. Immediately, a transmission was broadcast. The speaker was a male lion, his mane grey with age, fur scuffy and patched in places. Behind him stood a similarly aged female squirrel and a canine of indeterminate breed.

"I am Elder Strongpaw Caoloris of the Council of Elders. With me are Elders Aldreya Nutseeker and Demoris Southwind. We have come to negotiate diplomatic relations between our peoples and the Federation."

Nebula XR5-632-B - Janeway's Echo
Gamma Greenland was examining the cloak they had picked up. He had been sure it was working right, but the encounter at Devenis had proven otherwise. As far as he could decipher from the schematics of the device, the information they had downloaded from the cubes they had salvaged, and the actual functioning of the device itself, the cloak worked by bending space around the ship, much like a gravity well, thereby deflecting signals away from or refracting signals around the ship unlike Romulan cloaking devices which were designed to mimic space around them and dampen their own energy signs. He was rather upset that it had not worked properly. He figured he would have it just about right in a hundred cycles, give or take twenty, but he doubted the Alpha would want to wait that long. His counterpart on the Phoenix was no more hopeful. And much less helpful.

The petite mouse fem was Gamma Delucia Scurrier, and was about as green as any cadet could be. She had been appointed straight out of school due to her particular field of study. She had been given the highest marks in warp core theory and spatial physics since the school's inception. Her theory was sound. Her practice, however, could use a bit more elbow grease and a bit less reference material, in Gamma Greenland's humble opinion. He simply nodded and grunted at appropriate intervals as she prattled on about the this and that of HOW THINGS WORK, neglecting to inform her for the fourth time that he had been a mechanic and engineer since before she had been born. It had done little good thus far, why waste time and energy that could be better spent fixing this blasted cloak?

He sat back on his haunches and gave a mighty kick to a stuck panel with his powerful legs. A satisfied grunt was his only comment as the panel popped open and fell off of its hinges. He would fix it later. With access now granted, he squirmed his way into the innards and began to fiddle around, making a few tweaks he had meant to do before and trying to find the source of the problem. He also made a mental note to speak with the designers. These ships simply had to have more room in them when even a small rodent like himself felt cramped. Then again, they had not been designed with upgrades in mind. He was proud of the additions he had made, however, and made a second note to speak with the designers and have them made mandatory, or at least optional.

With a sigh, and a prayer that nothing shocked him, he set about sorting the various wires and conduits within the cloaking device. Hopefully he would figure it out before the Romulans arrived. Wouldn't they be green with jealousy when they found out his cloak was better than theirs?

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Planet Surface

Trying to struggle, the hulking wolf-man brought up a big, burly hand--and found it met with another hand, this one with metal casings around the fingers.

"Relax, big boy," Dulcinea said. "Take a good sniff." She brought her other hand over to his nose...slowly and carefully. He inhaled, speculatively. A look of confusion spread over his face.

"That's right," she said, "mechos don't wear perfume--let alone stuff that would've cost a month's wages when it first came out. But really, now...if I was one of those things you're so afraid of, would I be trying to talk with you at all? Now, I don't want to hurt you--any of you. If I did, you'd be so sick right now you couldn't stand up. You know that. So let's make a deal. I don't hurt you, you don't hurt me. We all relax, and we let you go. Is that OK?"

Sol System - System Edge


Attention Elder Strongpaw Caoloris. This is Sol System Transport Control.
You are cleared for system entry. Identify your ships, and they will be
vectored to appropriate docking facilities.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subteranean Caverns
The burly wolf continued to struggle, the overpowering perfume only a momentary distraction, the much smaller ferret clinging to his back.

"Viscor, stop! Stop! She's a friiii-iii-iiiiiii-iiiiend."

Selenia could barely speak, being tossed around like a ragdoll in a storm as she held onto the lupine. Reshnik rolled his eyes, toddled up and dropped the wolf with a well-aimed punch. Viscor let out a yipe and dropped to his knees, holding his groin.

"LISTEN!" Selinia ordered, slipping from his back. "Look, she's a friend. Yes, she's Mechos, but she's a GOOD Mechos, okay? There's new ones, independent ones, not drones. In-di-vi-du-als. Got it?" She turned, wiping a hand across her face. "Gory, if they're all this hard... Bloody predators." She turned back to the wolf. "Look, just go gather the Elders? Please? You can help them rip us to shreds after we've had our say, okay?"

Viscor slowly rose again, growling softly, and disentangled himself from Selinia's pack. He glanced between the three of him, still suspicious, but nodded and ran off down the hall.

"And now we wait," Reshnik observed, "and hope no one comes to see what the scuffle was all about."

Sol System - System Edge
A simple affirmative message was sent to the SSTC, along with the ship registries. The Defiants were the Victory and the Triumph, while the Falcons were named Roaming Wind, Elegant Zephyr, and Wilding Spark. The return coordinates were plotted and course engaged, landing them in separate docks around the orbital station. A second message was sent requesting coordinates for a shuttle landing.

Sol System--Earth, Orbitting Satellite

"Well, Ramirez," the man said, "guess what? After all this time, you're finally getting a chance to do your job." He was a skinny man, an old man, with dark-set eyes and a prickly, bulbous nose, as though he'd had one drink too many during his lifetime.

The data was already in Ramirez' PADD. The Gaal had already made inroads and informed Starfleet of their intentions. The cultural folks had even had time to put together their usual, unimaginably sparse "complete" work-up on the functionings of Gaal society--and anatomy.

"The Gall have a unique ability to ward off the Borg nanoprobes. Even with them scattered, this would be an invaluable tool of study. Thus, Ramirez, there are some who will remain unnamed who would find it...favorable...if you were to attempt to secure biological samples for study."

"That would be simple," Ramirez replied, "if we were the Klingons, or the Romulans, or even the Rigellian Syndicate. None of them stand for anything except their own self-interest--but I work for The United Federation of Planets, and, if the honor and integrity that we advocate in public are to be more than just so many more hollow words, shooting a certain old lion and clipping his tail off are simply out of the question--oh, yes, I know their leader's name."

The old man smiled. "No one ever said your life was going to be easy," he replied.

"Fine," Ramirez continued. "I'm sure we can negotiate--."

The man laughed. "And what do you think that you have to negotiate with?" he asked. "What commodity does this...economic and military powerhouse of a political unit have that they could ever possibly want? Our fleet is decimated. We have Enterprise, Omega and maybe soon the Nuremberg. That's about it. We can barely patrol our own solar system."

Ramirez smiled. "We have knowledge," he replied. "Contacts with other races. Political tradition. Centuries of diplomatic tradition, where they are only starting out in the galaxy. And we have the tradition of not interfering--."

"Yes! And you can see what that got us," the old man almost spit out.

"It got us the Gaal," Ramirez replied. "That's why they came to us."

"Hah. Some fledgling warp society--."

"You're the one who said they're so much better off than we are."

Ramirez left the man there and then. Putting up with him was turning the diplomat's stomach--and it was all the worse that he was never allowed to know the man's identity.

Everything that the Federation knew about the Gaal suggested that Elder Strongpaw Caoloris was top of the top of the line. There was no way that Ramirez was going to sacrifice the good will of his people for a few bottles of DNA. The Federation would get those samples--AFTER they had shown the Gaal that the two of them had common interests, and built proper diplomatic ties. Then, it would only be natural that they shared their defense data.

Right now, the Gaal had something far more important than a cure for the Borg. They had ships. And with those ships, the Federation could once again reach out and begin the long and tiring but absolutely vital process of piecing itself back together again. If the Gaal could be talked into this, it would work well for them, too. It would give them the diplomatic and cultural experience that, by all accounts, they so craved.

And, with people like that Shadowy Man walking around, Ramirez got the feeling that he didn't have much time to get the process started.

This sense of urgency stayed on his mind as he stepped through the door back into his office, having read the last of the data on the way in, and spoke to Gail, the secretary and communications officer, sitting there at the oaken desk by the door.

"Open hailing frequencies with the Gaal ship," he said.

The computer chirruped as Gail did her job. "Channel open," she said.


Elder Strongpaw Caoloris, this is Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez, Chief
Diplomatic Liaison for the United Federation of Planets. We have noted your
requests, and would like to talk. Suitable accommodations are being
prepared even as I speak. I would like for us to meet at your earliest
convenience. End transmission.


There was another chirrup. "Thanks, Gail," Ramirez said. "Now, recall Enterprise to space dock. If this all goes down right, we just might be seeing some old friends before too long."

"Old friends?"

"Old friends with pointy ears."

((OOC: Thanks RR for not only reminding me of Echo 3 but also with the post making it still exist))

---Starbase 234, area of Imperial Influence---

"Sir, I think we have just reached communications with Echo 3. I thought it was destroyed during the war, But I have been able to re-activate it and open up a Communication link with most of the old-federation" The Engineer was excited, Echo 3 was a relic but it was a valuable relic. A old United Earth transmitter that was deployed back in the days that warp 5 was the greatest thing to exist.

Cameron turned his face towards the commotion

"Contact Captain Krusi, he will want to hear of this"

---ISS Revelation, Captains Quarters---
"So you say we can contact Earth itself?"

"It will be a audio transmission only, the equipment is vastly out of date but we can regain contact with the Federation. I am sending the required data you need to use Echo three now"

All of a sudden the desktop screen was downloading the files and when it was completed 10 seconds later he had all he needed.

He presses the button and regain's communications with Earth, He then sends a audio transmission.

"This is Captain Krusi of the Federation Starship Revelation. I am currently serving the local governor to keep the area secure, We have almost 60 ships under our control and I personally have 8 loyal ships that serve me. The Governor has declared the area under his control a part of the Terran Empire, incase you dont remember the stories of old then look up the report in Captain Kirk's logs. I am using Echo three which is a old United Earth communications Transmitter made during the Captain Archer days, please contact me back because I do not know how long I can hold the Empire back from trying to take control of the Federation without a full blown civil war"

"Admiral, I have an incoming transmission," Gail said. She paused as the signal came through. "You'd better hear this."

"Alright," Ramirez said,

Gail reached forward and fumbled with the data screen in front of her. The computer chirped and chirruped, and, soon, the static-laden message was ready for his vetting.


This is Captain Krusi of the Federation Starship Revelation.
I am currently serving the local governor to keep the area secure.
We have almost 60 ships under our control and I personally have
8 loyal ships that serve me. The Governor has declared the area
under his control a part of the Terran Empire. In case you don't
remember the stories of old, then look up the report in Captain
Kirk's logs. I am using Echo three, which is an old United Earth
communications Transmitter made during the Captain Archer days.
Please contact me back because I do not know how long I can
hold the Empire back from trying to take control of the Federation
without a full blown civil war.


Ramirez did not say anything, but his skin became visibly paler as he heard that message.

"The Terran Empire," he finally said.

"Terran Empire, sir?" Gail asked.

"You can think of them as us, but not us," he replied. "They come from an alternate universe, a nightmarish place where the Federation is a totalitarian police state. And now, if what Krusi tells us is true, they outnumber us by a factor of about five to one."

Gail's rather obese, middle-aged face became a touch distraught.

"Does Echo Three still work both ways? Can you put me through to him?"

"Yes, sir, but there is no way to prevent others from eavesdropping on our signal."

"That's alright. Patch me in."


Captain Kruzi, this is Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez. If I went
by the book on this, an hour could seem like a day, so I'll
spell it out to you. From Internal Vectoring, Everything
Seems Held In Proper Spectrum. The communication channel
works, but we can't say for how long. I will relay your
message to the rest of the brass, and contact you again
in one week, repeat, one week.

Ramirez out.


Gail terminated the transmission.

"Do you think it's wise using such a simple code to send the message?" Gail asked.

"No," Ramirez replied, "but it was the best I could do on such short notice.

"Now," he said, "I've got twenty-four hours to get this through to the top brass and try to get some kind of handle on this situation."

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

OOC: I will not insult anyone's intelligence by pretending that they will need an answer key for THIS one...

"Your majesty we have receieved this message, it's from Earth"

Captain Kruzi, this is Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez. If I went
by the book on this, an hour could seem like a day, so I'll
spell it out to you. From Internal Vectoring, Everything
Seems Held In Proper Spectrum. The communication channel
works, but we can't say for how long. I will relay your
message to the rest of the brass, and contact you again
in one week, repeat, one week.

Ramirez out.

John for the first time in years was shocked, how on Earth had they managed to reach Earth.

"prepare the ISS Fist for my arrival, we are heading to have a chat with Captain Krusi"

troops are sent to the vessel, they had to destroy the starbase and prevent further communication. But he was quick to act on another matter.

"Who else has heard this message?"

"Only me, I thought you should be first to hear it"

John takes out a phaser and quickly kills the man, he whispers 'sorry' but news of communication with Earth was nothing but bad news for his regime. He had to make the Federation seem weak and unable to protect them, had to make them see the real nature of Humanity. A strong Human race.

To think Captain Krusi in his universe was the Emperor, he thought him of all people would see the bigger picture.

He had a week before the Federation regain communications.

---Starbase 234, Operations Room---

"What do you mean they could read the communications!" Perius yelled at the Engineer when he told him the bad news

"I thought the communications security was still online, but like I just found out they are so far out of date that anybody with a decent hacking program can access the files. It is possible that Governor Samuel heard everything, but thats under the slight chance he was searching for something"

"You fool, the Empire does nothing but keep tabs on communication. Even during the first days of the Confederacy, Originally the Federation captains were under the impression it was a security measure to find spies since we were taking in allot of non-federation species like the Romulans. But it is obvious that, that is nolonger the case"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Try and improve the security measures, hopfully they did not hear a thing. But if the Govenor has heard of what we are planning then we have to be ready for a possible skirmish, try and make sure the idiots on that Pansy-Nova class vessel hear nothing of this"

Perius is quick to transport to the Sickbay where Cameron was helping with treating a few people who had suffered radiation poisoning while repairing a section of the Starbase.

"Commander please come with me"

they exit the room together, after he discussed the situation to him Cameron looks very worried.

"We cant win a fight againts the Fist, it's vastly surperior in firepower compared to the revelation and he will not come alone. I cannot think of any way to beat the Fist in a one on one fight even if that was the case"

"What makes you think so highly of it?"

"Who you think designed the Fist! remember when the Revelation was first taken from you and I lost the Victoria?. You were doing politics and keeping us in control while I helped in the ship-yards, I spent Months correcting every flaw in there designs and then I came up with a ship which makes the Sovereign class look like a NX-01. All technology built into the design not this upgrade rubbish these ships have, there cloaking works perfectly and the transwarp drives needs 25% of the fuel that this ship needs. Weapons dont seem special but when you take notice of the Yomato Cannon you realise they dont have to be, practically can destroy any ship in a single blast of nuclear energy. Sure we have a Chain Reaction Pulser but when you think about the technology on all Imperial ships it's useless, the shielding alone makes it useless"

"What are you saying?"

Fear were in Cameron's eyes "The Fist gives the Empire enough firepower to take over Earth, do you see Captain? I practically handed over the most advanced ship in the galaxy and even with our small band of loyalist we alone cannot halt the Empire even with the Federation's help"

"There is more to this, is there?"

"That is between me and the Emperor"

Cameron walks off, he arrived at his quarters. He takes out a weird looking datapad and turns it on and it reads.

"Remember crewmen, you have been given the mission by the Terran Republic to bring the Imperialist known as Admiral Samuel to justice"

During his service on the Victoria he saw the gateway open, a Consitution class exited with the classification of 'ISS: Phenixica' and another which was a Defiant class with the Classification of 'TSS: Zulu' the latter was destroyed in a fight between the both but the Zulu had sent a personal transmission to him telling him all about the events in the Mirror Universe.

He looks at pictures of Earth, ruined cities slowly being re-built and how the Terran Empire had caused the destruction of it all. He was not naive enough to think that this new Terran Empire were the demons that the Terran Republic made them out to be, But if they got control of the Federation there is no telling what could take place.

"Well I can organize a convoy of 3 raven class vessels and 5 Runabouts to escort about 12 large barges which can carry 800 people each, They are used mostly for industry but we refitted most to be able to ship large populations in a small amount of time.

There are currently about 15,000 Romulans living in Terran Space most of them living in the Regulus system which has another colony of the Empire, with a population of about 600,000.

It is up to you if this convoy transports the Romulans to your base of operations or it goes to your base of operations to pickup any Federation citizens who wish to come. I am not so naive to think they will all be interested since I am no federation, all I offer is security and to no offense a more friendly atmosphere"


"I will consult my superiors further on this matter. In the meantime, I offer you the assistance of my personal aid in compiling lists of names of those who need to be exchanged. Romulans on this world may be suspicious of your motives. The presense of one of my officers might help persuade them that no treachery is intended. Now if you will excuse me, I have urgent business to attend to. We will speak again shortly, however, to discuss the Governor's pending visit."

For all her calm demeanor, Neera was glad to be back aboard her ship. She had never met someone as cunning or dangerous as this new "Emperor." Vranik's plan was an old one, to play one faction against another until all were weakened, leaving you alone. But if their support helped John's empire grow to the point where it could no longer be contained? And what if John's empire made enemies who decided that the Romulans were the easier target to hurt John indirectly? It would certainly be wise to have threads tied to other powers, which meant it was necissary to meet with the Gaal. She hoped they had not forgotten her offer, and that they remained unsuspecting of her betrayal of them to the new "Emperor".

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns
The wait was not long. Viscor returned within ten minutes. His scowl was still firmly in place as he gestured for them to follow. The main cavern had been emptied, guards standing in place at each exit tunnel, the largest predators the small population had to offer. A few wolves, a handful of large cats, and a pair of lions. Selenia noted that it was, in fact, all the predators the survivors had to offer save those on the council. She sighed at their snarling and glares. She knew if given the chance they would most likely rip her to shreds without a second thought, and Reshnik and Dulcinea would receive the same treatment. Only her request to see the council, and the fact that Viscor had been returned in one piece, held them at bay.

The council chamber held much the same air as it had upon her last visit. Dark, stormy, anger held barely in check, but there was an undercurrent as well, a light scent that barely tickled the nose: fear. The Mechos were back, they had returned, and now one stood before them, here, in their hiding place. What were they to do if the Mechos came down in force, dug them from their temporary homes? They would die, every single one of them, fighting to the last, but they would die, and never again would they see their families or the worlds of their birthing. The leopard Elder, gray of fur and with drooping whiskers but still tall and proud when he stood, looked down on them with obvious hatred and disdain.

"Selinia and Reshnik Nimblefingers," he intoned, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "We will deal with your treachery and deceit soon enough. For now, speak, Mechos. Explain to us why we should not tear you limb from limb and scatter your remains into the sea, since Viscor tells us that you claim independent speech and thought."

Nebula XR5-632-B - Janeway's Echo
The pilot sphere was a system within Gaal ships that most never saw. Few knew much about them at all save for what they heard in rumor. It was said that pilots lived within their spheres for their entire life, never seeing the sun with their own eyes nor feeling real wind in their feathers. It was also said that the pilots themselves were hideously mutated creatures, grotesque in appearance and alien in thought, unable to feel emotions, more machine than creature, much like the Mechos. Alpha Teshla was not going to disabuse her crew of those notions so long as they allowed her time to sit in peace and quiet.

She stroked her fingers through her bonded partner's crest, studiously avoiding the metalic cap that covered the upper part of his head, wires trailing from it to connect with the sphere's perimeter. The room itself was approximately seven feet in diameter. Every square inch of the wall was lined with electronics of every kind. They sprouted wires that connected to several interface devices, many interfacing directly with ports that lined the metallic implants the falcon pilot sported over most of his body. He was no longer truly a bird, but he was far from the cold, unfeeling machine many would claim he was. Indeed, he was like a brother to her and treated her as such.

"You are troubled," Alpha Skeereth Longfeather trilled, using his actual voice rather than its synthesized equivalent. "Why?"

"The deadline for our meeting with the Romulans is nearing due, and I've little idea where we should go next," she answered with a sigh. "This new 'Terran Empire' claims a very large sector of space. I would head to Vulcan, but that would require passing through Romulan territory from our current position. I'd rather not do that unless necessary without first meeting with them."

"Is it wise to trust these Romulans? According to Federation Database entries, they are duplicitous in the extreme, far more willing to stab one in the back than to face one on even terms."

She sighed again. "This is true, but we need allies. This is a time of crisis for all. I'm certain they understand this as well. Old enmities can be resumed once peace and security can be established." Her fingers trailed down to ruffle his chest feathers. "For now, everyone needs allies. Even 'Emperor' John. I've little doubt he'll have made a deal with the Romulans, probably 'granted' them a quadrant or two in return for support."

"Quite the little despot, isn't he? Pretentious too. Reminds me of a few times within our own history."

Alpha Teshla nodded agreement, knowing he could see it despite the fact that his eyes were covered in interface grafts. "Hopefully those back at Vega will be able to acquire fully functional cloaks so that we can slip a few covert intelligence ships into Devenis space. I wish Gamma Greenland would finish fixing ours. He said it was working when we headed for Devenis."

"Even miracle workers sometimes fail," the falcon replied, nuzzling his beak against her cheek. "Give it time. That hare is nothing if not resourceful. Perhaps Gamma Windsong could be spared to aid him? She is rather talented with electronic devices." He lifted a cybernetic claw, flexing it. "You can see, she did a very good job fixing this one's leg. It functions perfectly now."

"That's a plus. No more interface problems? I'd hate to need a planetfall and find your landing gear refuses to extend."

He made a sound akin to gargling while clearing his throat, his version of a chuckle. "As would this one. It would be rather... painful."

Alpha Longfeather's head turned suddenly upwards and to the right, tilting slightly to the side, seeing that which only he could perceive. He nodded after a few moments, then turned back to Alpha Teshla.

"Alpha Longfang wishes an audience with you, my love. I believe the humans would call it a 'conjugal' visit."

She gave a soft snort. "Well, I might as well. It might make him less cranky after he's let loose some of that pent up tension, though if his rectum wasn't so tight, I would swear he takes it more than he gives."

The falcon let out another gargling cough. "Go see to him, dear. This one will alert you if the Romulans arrive."

With yet another sigh, the civet exited the pilot sphere and headed for her quarters. So much for peace and quiet.

Sol System - Earth - Orbital Station
"Stop fidgetting, Aldraya," Elder Soutwind chided his squirrel colleague.

"I can't help it!" she answered. "I fidget when I'm nervous. You know that!"

"Quiet, both of you," Elder Strongpaw cautioned. "We must present a strong, unified front to these humans, especially if we are to gain any power within the new Federation. They probably think us little more than savages in the first place, considering our history just prior to our initial contact."

Their pilot made no comment as the shuttle landed gently on the designated landing pad outside of Starfleet Command. The shuttle itself was nowhere near as elegant as the Gaal were used to. It was a bulky Federation runabout, box-like and cramped. Of course, Elder Nutseeker found it quite comfortable, save that the seats were too big and some of the controls were well out of her reach. All three were highly annoyed at the lack of tail accommodations within the seats, however no modifications had been made. This shuttle and the ship it had come from, along with its counterpart, were to be returned to the Federation intact and in good working order as a show of good faith, after all.

The Elders allowed themselves grumbles and groans as they rose from their seats, but quieted as the exit ramp folded outwards. Elder Strongpaw as the first to touch paw to tarmac, holding his head and tail high, looking with disdain at the reception that awaited. Elder Soutwind, meanwhile, was sniffed furiously at the air of this new world, taking in all the scents that it had to offer, tongue hanging from his mouth as he panted openly, tail wagging behind him. Elder Nutseeker gawked like a cub given its first look at the world, eyes wide with wonder as she beheld Starfleet command and the personnel gathered to greet them. Elder Strongpaw sighed internally. At least Elder Nutseeker held her tail erect. Then again, it was rare that a squirrel's tail was not held erect so long as they stood only on two paws.

"We have come," the lion elder rumbled, taking a step towards the greeting party. "I believe the human phrase for such an occasion is 'Take me to your leader'."

"What do you know of the Borg?" Dulcinea asked. She had noted that they presented strength and force, and knew that she must appear strong in their midst. "You know that they do not survive when removed from their collective, that they do not speak. Yet, here I stand, alone, no collective, talking with you. Is that not enough to tell you that a great change is at hand?

"You know that the Borg absorb all that they can, and that what they cannot absorb they have no interest in. And you know that they cannot absorb you. Yet, here I am, offering our friendship.

"I have always believed that actions speak louder than words. Before you stand two of your own. They have been aboard a Borg Tactical Cube and survived, unmodified, to talk of it. You need look no farther than the mechanical implants that they carry to confirm this. In fact, far from absorbing them, we have given them total access to our information library--we have willingly allowed them to absorb us.

"For this bold, brave and delicate act of diplomacy, you have branded them as treacherous. I would suggest that, if actions speak louder than words, you study their actions, and tell me then whether there has ever been a more patriotic soul among you than the brave little ones who stand beside me now.

"I have no magical words that can change your hearts. I have no telepathy or influencing abilities. I have only my actions. When your guard threatened me, I could have attacked. Instead, I counseled peace, even though he would have none of it. Because of this, he lives to protect you all for another day.

"And I have one more act that my people, the New Borg, can perform for you, if you will but turn your back on the vile ways of the past, as we have. We can take you home. Already, we are building living quarters in orbit that will be suitable for the trip. You need never set foot in the cubes of the Mechos.

"But we, as a society, venerate freedom of choice, and that is why we offer you only the choice of this path to that which you most desire. We will not force you into anything, and we will honor whatever choice you make. To verify this, you need look no further than the logs of the incidents that your brain stem computers keep.

"And finally, I can tell you bluntly why you cannot scatter my remains to the sea. It has nothing to do with me. This is a desert planet. There is no sea to scatter them into."

Men, she thought. Always have to think in terms of destruction! Well, at least I've shown 'em that I've got a couple of brain cells to rub together. Maybe they'll be smarter than that, too. She had held back the fact that the New Borg had broken the Gaal implants' communications codes. They would realize this--and, hopefully, that it was all to the Gaals' advantage--as they examined the information.

"Because we have no interest in absorbing you," she finished, "I would appreciate it if I were allowed to leave after you reach your decisions, whatever they may be. I hold the post of Chief Ambassador to the Animarnian Government. We are hoping to form a joint mission to reach the remnants of the United Federation of Planets. I have a lot of work to do."

Commadore Neera's Cruiser dropped out of Warp near the edge of a large Nebula. Cloaked, with weapons fully powered up, it made a quick scan of the area, then decloaked just inside the dust cloud, which it had placed squarely between them and any Terran Imperial sensors.

"We have come," the lion elder rumbled, taking a step towards the greeting party. "I believe the human phrase for such an occasion is 'Take me to your leader'."

"I'm already here," the diplomat replied. "Rear Admiral Jason Ramirez, at your service. It is a distinct pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face, Elder Strongpaw. He noted that the lion elder's voice was not merely deep, but powerful--capable of a velvety smoothness, or, in times of anger, of Manifest Command. It was a voice very much like Ramirez' own.

"We have prepared a meal in your honor," he continued. "If you will be so courteous, I would be honored to escort you."

One Hour Later

The replicators had been busy. At Ramirez' insistence, they had limited themselves to the delicacies of Earth. This was to be an introduction, and a proper introduction meant more than mere speeches. In this case, it meant everything from the best cashews--both raw and fried--to the best filet mignon--also both raw and fried. Ramirez even got to indulge in an unusual predilection of his: raw hamburger, lightly salted. It was a perfect opportunity: no one in the congregation would dare to chastise him for it.

It didn't take the Gaal long to come 'round to the fact that they were seen as fitting right in with the finest traditions of the Federation, and it took Strongpaw even less time to figure out that Earth needed his ships. As the conversation turned to the planet Vulcan, Ramirez was nervous. Had Strongpaw's people reached the potential that they had shown in their first contact? Would he agree to help? Would he demand more for his services than the Federation could give?

Nebula XR5-632-B - Janeway's Echo
Alpha Teshla was happily interrupted by the Romulan's arrival. Giving her counterpart no time to protest, she ordered him transported back to his ship and called for all hands to report to their stations. It was but a matter of moments before she stood on the bridge.

"Open a visual link," she commanded, then glanced down at herself, "but maintain focus above the waist, please."

"Yes, Alpha," the comm officer replied with a snicker.

"This is Alpha Teshla Norrella of the Gaal Imperium. Thank you for coming. I wished to discuss the opening of diplomatic relations between our peoples. Please respond."

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns - Council Chambers
The leopard Elder stood silent, a mix of emotions playing across his feline features, mostly indecipherable. The air of the chamber fairly hummed with unheard conversations. After several minutes, he finally spoke again.

"We will review the recorded observations of Selinia and Reshnik Nimblefingers. The three of you will be confined within this compound until such time as we reach a decision. Any attempt either to resist or escape will be met with deadliest force. You will speak with no one, and you will obey any directives given you by your guards."

He nodded to the young pair of lions guarding the exit and they came forwards. Selinia was saddened greatly by this turn of events, but she had expected no less. The spark of hope was not yet dead, at least. They would review the files and hopefully see that the Dulcinea was being honest at that the New Borg were no threat. Of course, they could also still decide to execute Selinia and her littermate for high treason. Selinia was not overly upset about that. Death was just one more adventure, though she had hoped to live a bit longer before taking that last journey. She kept her mouth shut as they were escorted down a side tunnel to a small chamber that had been hastily cleared. Once there, she snuggled against her brother, taking comfort, for once, in his presence.

"And again with the waiting," the irrepressible male quipped.

Sol System - Earth - Starfleet Command
Among the Gaal, predators were not generally considered to be good diner conversationalists, nor was it customary among any of their races to discuss business over food regardless of the circumstances. Thus it was that the Rear Admiral found his own monologues attended with polite interest, but any questions regarding his most pressing interests were given gentle rebuffs. Of the three Elders, only Elder Nutseeker could have been considered talkative during the meal, and most of her chatter consisted of minutae about her numerous grandbabes or compliments over the excellent "grub" presented. Elder Southwind found himself absolutely fascinated by the variety that had been laid out. He was barely able to keep his seat so busy was he scuttling from one end of the table to the other, sampling everything he could lay his hands on. He found the parsley used to garnish some of the dishes to be of particular interest, since they seemed to have nothing to do with the dish itself. His interest was only increased when he was informed that the garnish was not intended to be eaten. Elder Strongpaw withheld comment, preferring instead to simply listen and gather what information he could, gauging his counterpart's character as well as his desperation. He attempted to maintain a slow, simple pace of cleaning only minimally laden plates, waiting for his companions to finish. At least, he tried until he hit the grilled cheeseburgers. He was not overly partial to the raw burger. Raw meat tasted like raw meat, so far as he was concerned, however he had rarely tasted meat cooked. Mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup, salad dressing, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, onions, and more found their way between the lion's bun and burger as he explored an ever-increasing variety of flavors. He had consumed nearly a dozen before he recalled the warnings his personal physician had given him. He settled back in his chair with an appreciative belch, waiting for his compatriots to complete their meal. Soon, they were all satisfied, and the real discussions could begin.

"You provide most excellent cuisine," the aged lion complimented. "We should discuss possible cultural exchange among our other concerns. Many of these dishes would be well and widely received among the homeworlds. I would personally be interested in acquiring a supply of these 'cheeseburgers'. Were it not for my digestive problems, I would likely still be eating them."

He cleared his throat, working a claw between his teeth. "But now we come to the meat of the matter. Your fleet is... I would hesitate to say pathetic out of politeness and respect, but you yourself have admitted openly that it is rather lacking. We expected this, and you may rest at ease knowing that we need no help policing our own system. However, as a show of good faith, we are returning the two Federation vessels we brought with us, the Victory and the Triumph, to your command. They were salvaged from wreckage at the Vega colony, and our engineers repaired them as best they could. Also, speaking of Vega, the orbital communications relay station has been returned to full operational status. It can send and receive transmissions throughout most of the Alpha Quadrant. We have been using it to monitor and direct the few exploratory vessels we have sent out.

"Unfortunately, with good news comes bad. Alpha Teshla Norella, who I believe made initial contact with you, sends word that one of your former colonies, Devenis, has established itself as something of a power in the region. Its governor now labels himself Emperor of the Terran Empire and claims control of all former Federation space. John was the only name he gave. Alpha Teshla wisely departed from the system and is awaiting possible contact with the Romulans to open diplomatic negotiations. We do not hold high hopes, but we will ask the ancestors for guidance. Perhaps their reputation is ill deserved, or perhaps they will see the greater need that presses upon us all at this juncture."

The Elder took a contemplative drink, swishing the beverage around his mouth before swallowing. "What did you call this again? Beer? Most refreshing. As for our own strengths, I will tell you that we have a fully functional shipyard and are producing vessels as quickly as we can. Our newest designs include technologies salvaged from surrounding systems, technologies the Federation originally denied us. Now, we have them and are learning to use them. Our ships in orbit have on them working cloaks and transporters. We were fortunate enough to be spared by the Mechos since our bodies are immune to their assimilation techniques and our technologies require our bodies to function.

"The Federation, on the other hand, was not so lucky. You are but a shell of your former self, barely able even to patrol your own system. You lack defenses of any kind save a few old vessels. You lack personnel to man any new vessels you may acquire. You are at a severe disadvantage and swiftly falling behind as those others who have survived are rebuilding and regaining power and territory. This fledgling Empire is more of a threat than the Federation these days. Even the Romulans have recognized this, opening talks with Emperor John. We do not know the subject of these talks, but I am sure we both can guess.

"In short, you have very little, and the Gaal have comparatively much. What you need are ships, crew, and intelligence. We are willing to offer these to you, including enough engineers to return any nearby shipyards to full functionality. What we ask in return is relatively simple. Humans and Vulcans have controlled the Federation since its birth. It has claimed inclusiveness for all races, but it has not always been proven so. Humanoids have always been given the greatest considerations, and even then only the humanoids that most resemble humans themselves. Do you not see the prejudice present in the very words themselves? Ninety percent of Federation captains throughout your history have been human with the exceptions generally being hybrids or those who adapted themselves almost entirely to human culture.

"I may be misinterpreting the facts. Starfleet is based on Earth, your homeworld, and the Federation allows races to maintain their own sovereignty and militaries. This would, of course, make home service much more attractive to potential recruits. However, those non-humanoids who have joined Starfleet have often found themselves struggling to rise above the rank of ensign. Atimes, even their dietary and environmental needs have been ignored by all save the ship's physician until it was brought to someone's attention. Again, I am admittedly biased and may be misinterpreting the facts, but I have attempted to be very thorough in my research.

"What I propose is not only a rebirth of the Federation, but a reorganization as well. You are in need of ships, a fleet worthy of respect and fear, power to put down pirates and secure entire quadrants. Those worlds that are willing to rejoin the Federation, I say let them have their sovereignty. It has served them well during this time of crisis, and the familiar is generally preferable to the new and unknown. However, those who join must turn over control of any ships, shipyards, knowledgeable personnel, and any needed supplies to the Federation for distribution and use. It will be met with resistance, but I am certain one of your distinction is skilled in hiding unpleasant sights in the tall grass so that only indistinct glimpses are seen. Let them have a small defense force to maintain their own systems, but the majority must be under Federation control, at least temporarily.

"Internally, there is a need for true equality, a need for representation and understanding that stretches across species. Yes, there was the Council before, but many races had no representation or say in anything that went on. Sectors were allowed elected officials that did not necessarily take into account those not of their own race. I would suggest a more representative democracy, much like the Congress one of your nations once used. Representatives from each race, selected by the people, with the number of representatives being based upon population, influence, and resources. Perhaps a representative from each system, or at least for those worlds that require special consideration."

Elder Strongpaw took another sip of his beer. "I do not claim to be an expert on interspecies politics, nor on the inner workings of the Federation, nor on any number of things. I am, however, very old and have lived a rather interesting life. I have seen ancient enemies make peace, I have stood by as eternal wars were given pause, and I have peoples that under other circumstances would happily rend each other limb from limb work together towards a common good, all without leaving home. I have had my perceptions forcibly realigned several times in the last few decades, and I have had many illusions I once held dear shattered. These are simply my opinions on what must be done. The only requirements officially given by the government I represent are equal representation within the Federation once it is reestablished as a dominant power and repayment of debts incurred by the use of our ships, personnel, and equipment. I have no doubt that you will agree to these last. It is in your best interest, unless you intend to allow the Federation to fade into the long night."

"You are very close to the truth," Ramirez replied, "but things are not as bleak for us as you describe them. It is true that we lack ships, but we do not lack the people to man them." They may not be very experienced, but we have them. "And, though we will gladly accept your help--you have, in my humble opinion, shown a remarkable talent for engineering, and we would be glad to work with you as the equals that you obviously are--we are well enough able to get our shipyards into production.

"We can also give you the replicator patterns for any of the dishes that you have been served tonight, with our complements. With those, you will be able to cook your own, as much as you like.

"Another point that you raise actually hits very close to home for me. You may not know this, but, in my time in Starfleet, I've been a champion of ethnic diversity. Before the last Great Battle, we even proudly admitted a Horta to our security forces. He went by the name of 'Stone,' and I'm told that he had quite a sense of humor for a what amounts to a solid rock--but I digress." This had all been true. Ramirez had fought hard to help Starfleet realize its potential as a place of opportunity for all races.

"Your research was excellent, but out of date. The claims that you have made about Starfleet as a human-centric organization could not have been more true a few years ago, when we made first contact. The Borg put an end to that. With attacks coming from every angle, tribalism was simply a luxury that we could no longer afford. My personal secretary is a Tellarite. Look at the security detail that protects us all this evening: two Klingons, an Andorian, a Vulcan and a Human--and not one of them is an ensign. Talent is the propriety of no single species. It would seem that, in many ways, your people and mine have found common ground on this issue.

"Likewise, we have common ground on the need for a strong Federation presence as the resources to fill this need become available.

"Thus, we agree both on the need for proper representation within the Federation Council and on the need for a strong, centralized defense.

"The main point, then, that we have not spoken of lies with what to do between now and then, with how to restore the Federation, and to establish contact, order and tranquility within our borders.

"It is here that I find your people's talents could be best utilized. I had the distinct pleasure of conversing with Alpha Teshla of Janeway's Echo. From her, I learned of your people's yearning to meet the other races of the Federation, to establish yourselves as their equals. I can think of no better way for you to accomplish this than to help us to contact those worlds whose voices have fallen silent in the wake of the Borg, starting with the planet Vulcan. Of course, we would offer you the best assistance that we have to offer, and request a multi-ethnic diplomatic team, of whom some of your people would naturally serve as members, accompany you. Is this acceptable to you? Is it as much in our mutual interests as I believe that it is?"

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns - Prison Chambers

After a few minutes in the prison chambers, where they had all been deposited in one surging lump, Dulcinea began to sing campfire songs. Soon, she was asking the two Gaal prisoners who shared her cell with her to join in. If all went well, the chamber guards would be asked to join in the song, too.

Diplomats can work in strange ways.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns - Prison Chambers

Say say oh playmate,
Come out and play with me.
Follow my honeybee.
Climb up my apple tree.

Slide down my rain barr'l
Down through my cellar door
And we'll be jolly friends
Forever more.

The ISS Fist arrived at the station to meet with the Captain of the Emperor's fears. John knew if anybody could overthrow his control of the sector it was Perius, I man who did not need time to get respect from his crewmen. He walks into a room and you know he is trustworthy and it was the same in the other Universe. Emperor Krusi got his position not through traditional killing and taking over but from a popular uprising to install him to the Throne of the Empire that was on Mars.

John opens hail with the Revelation, he brought several ships with him including the Victoria and Siren. he was going to use captain Fisher as bait.

"What are you trying to do Perius?"

Perius laughed then replied "You cannot be serious, your going to try and intimidate me now? You lied to us all John, we could of contacted the Federation months ago and now after all that has happened we have a chance to rebuild what was lost and your going to stop me!"

"The Federation can offer no security, you think I dont know what shape it's in Perius. It has a handful of vessels left and no contact between the founding worlds, The Terran Empire has had the power to overthrow there power for the last 2 years"

"Bullshit, for the last 2 years we have been trying to scramble the resources together to allow the fleet to survive with salvaging parts and materials. The 'Empire' is strong and I admit that, the people of these worlds owe there lives to your efforts but at the end of the day I prefer a Democractic Union to a Tyrannical Empire"

"I am no Tyrant, I just see the potential. We could have a Empire spanning the entire quadrant, no more wars or suffering. Every race living in harmony under a single banner and that banner being that of the great Terran Empire"

"At the cost of Freedom!" Cameron shouted, his face filled with rage. nothing worse then seeing a angry Biologically altered human being.

"The Empire might unite all the nations into one, but I can be dam sure it will just grow as corrupt and evil as the old Terran Empire. Thats why the Terrans of your Universe kicked you out, it was not a jealously of power but they knew if the Terran Empire ever managed to get surpreme power then the chances of a return to the same situation that got them enslaved was assured."

"The New Terran Empire in the other universe was a democractic power, every planet was represented"

"Under a Terran Governor! planets with a human population of 0.2% but yet they got there voice represented in Government that is not democracy"

"It was not a racial Empire, every race was given a equal chance to go forth. But what race of people would want to be part of a goverment who only a century ago enslaved them. Thats why we had to appoint Governors, we had no choice."

Perius steps in, ordering Cameron to go back to his post

"John, there will be no fighting today. I will leave for Earth in a week and you will not stop me unless I am needed, you have proven by all these news Captains my services here have expired and I refuse to help you take control of Earth. If you want to take over Earth John, you will have to get through me"

Communications were cut and the Fist turned around, John was heading to Regulus with a strike team of 8 ships. He knew that the Romulans were probably breaking his 'not touch a Federation founding world' part of the agreement which is why the sensors on New France are being re-activated so he can monitor some of the worlds from a distance.

He was going to mobilise Imperial Starfleet to the upper borders of his Empire and then under his personal command the 8 ships would prepare for any news that reached him of Romulan activity...unlike other factions who are probably still putting together a spy network the Empire has Imperium 31 which was the mirror universes Section 31. he only had 35 original agents at his disposal, but they had done a good job of relaying information back to him.

(OOC: apologies if I arived at Vulcan sooner than expected. I'm not going to guess how long it would take from Romulan space at standard warp speed, but I'll just assume Zahn's their by now. Please correct me if Im wrong).

Commadore Zahn's vessels sat behind the slight safety of their outdated cloaks as their commander ordered a quick scan of the Vulcan system. The reddish world lay below them, seemingly untouched. The scan, however, revealed spots across the planet where entire cities had been scooped out of the rock by Borg tractor beams. It sadened the Commadore to see yet more of the ruin wrought by the Borg. To witness so much destruction could push a man to desperation, or despair. It ate at one's soul. Moreover, Vulcan was the home of his people, however many wars and centuries lay between them. And if he succeded, all that was about to change.

Despite the remnants of devestation, their was a fairly intact city in the northern hemisphere, and a few small small outposts that the Borg seemed to have missed. A small ship yard was lit up over the southern pole, and their were even a few short-range communications and a rudimentary defense field over the norther polar region. Zahn lacked the disdain for Vulcans that most Romulans felt; it was hardly pragmatic to deny their obvious accomplishments in science and engineering. If any thing, Zahn admired their pragmatism and focus. At least their sensors seemed unable to detect him. Commadore Panak and his Valdore Class were on their way, but until they arrived, he prefered to observe from secrecy. When he revealed himself, it would be on his terms, from a possision of strength.

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns - Prison Chambers

The ants go marching ten by ten.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The ants go marching ten by ten.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The ants go marching ten by ten.
The little one stops to start again
And they all go marching
Down
To the ground
To get out
Of the rain.
Boom boom boom...

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns - Prison Chambers

Beware! Beware! Beware!
Under the tree over there!
Men in blue are looking for you!
Prepare! Prepare! Prepare!

Former Gaal Colony Tesh'mal - Subterranean Caverns - Prison Chambers


Beware! Beware! Beware!
Under the tree over there!
Rhinos in tights are seeing the sights!
Prepare! Prepare! Prepare!

Commadore Panak dropped out of warp just inside the Vulcan system. He knew the rough coordinates of Zahn's vessels, and fired off a short incripted signal in that direction. A couple tense minutes passed, then Zahn's reply came through. A few moments to verify the code, and Panak sent an inquiry on the next course of action. Zahn's reply was strait forward.

"I am hailing the Vulcans. Decloak on my mark."

Ten seconds later, history was made, as Commadore Zahn transmit his opening hail to Vulcan on all frequencies.

"People of Vulcan, greetings. I am Commadore Zahn of the Romulan fleet. I am authorized to negotiate on behalf of my government, regarding the need for all civilized beings to unite to protect their common interests in these dark times." Immediately after, Panak received his own message.

"Proceed."

Fervently hoping this move was for the best, Panak turned to his tactical officer and gave the order.

"Decloak. Let's show them we're more than just pirates."

(OOC: if you want to play Vulcan, now's your chance. Otherwise, I take them).

((OOC: found some spare time to post))

"Sir reports from the base at New France, they have picked up Romulan signals in the Vulcan system and using Echo 3 we were able to assume there intentions to claim the world. Emperor has ordered us along with the taskforce to head towards Vulcan"

Perius looks at the woman who delivered the news with interest, he then opened up communications with echo 3 and to send a transmission Earth.

"If you want to keep Vulcan you better be there soon, Romulan activity detected and the Terran Empire is arming for a Military show of force to scare them away"

The Revelation went into warp towards Regulus to meet up with the 8 other ships waiting to move on the Emperor's mark, he said this was just a scare tactic because he honestly hope it was. War was a path that did not suit anybodies interest.

"What is the plan sir" Cameron came in smiling, being a Augment he was a natural fighter with great intelligence.

"Are you ready to do what is needed to secure the Romulan ships?"

Cameron laughed but the bitterness came out

"Well I suppose I could transport on there main ship alone and clear the entire ship with nothing but a single hand phaser and a long sword"

Perius smiled as a small bump in the ship meant they had entered full warp

He then presses his badge and gives the order "Ship to yellow alert, raise shields and open armories"