The lift doors parted with a rapid swoosh and suddenly Commander Andrew Brower found himself on the bridge.

Slowly he stepped from the lift, hearing the doors close behind him. Quietly he glanced around the busy operations center of the ship. Somehow it seemed as though he had come home.

Fingers danced across lighted consoles, computer stations chirped in the background, crewmen strode back and forth carrying out orders or keeping track of shipboard details, and the routine of ship's business continued. Aside from a noticeable fervor in the atmosphere, everything was as it should be, and it seemed as though he had never left. Everything looked exactly the same as he had remembered it.

Of course this was the bridge of the USS Avenger, not the Intrepid. Still, being back aboard an Intrepid Class ship held a certain affinity for him. He had spent a good portion of his career on a ship just like this, serving most of that time as chief engineer. Though not a parent, he imagined this was somehow what it was like to welcome a child back from university.

"Commander Brower?" a rough voice startled him. He glanced to his left noticing a tall, slender man with dark hair whose black eyes seemed as cold as stone. He nodded.

"I'm Lieutenant Schoen Rutledge, Chief Operations Officer aboard the Avenger."

Brower extended a handshake, but the officer didn't reciprocate. Andrew retracted his hand, and for a few moments only cold silence hung between the two.

"Captain Sutherland has been expecting you," said Rutledge finally. "He's in the ready room." Without another word he hastened off to Brower's right.

Quickly Andrew fell into step behind him, surprised at this aloof behavior, especially from a senior bridge officer. Further, he was still somewhat surprised that none of the senior officers had met him in the transporter room, let alone seen him on board. Now he was being rushed off to this hurried meeting with his new captain.

Brower had long heard of the legendary Captain Tobias A. Sutherland, commanding officer of the USS Avenger. The man was older than most active-duty Starfleet captains, in his mid sixties. Though from everything Andrew had heard, the captain was nowhere near retirement.

Andrew had found widely varying opinions of Captain Sutherland. There had been those he had spoken with who said the man was somewhat crusty, his manners ill-worn with time. He was often seen as a highly tenacious, obstinate, and stubborn commanding officer.

Even so, Captain Forrester had spoken highly of the man, saying he was a born leader, fearless and self-assured. Forrester had explained that the man bore some 'getting used to', but once familiar with his rough exterior, he had been certain Brower would find a generous, caring man. Coming from his prior captain, Forrester's words were high praise.

Past crewmembers had said they often rose to meet Sutherland's challenge, striving to meet his level of excellence. They followed him blindly, knowing he would never ask one of his crew to do something he would not do himself. It was this reason over all others that caused Brower's palms to sweat at the prospect of finally meeting his new commanding officer.

After following Rutledge for a few steps, the pair arrived at the double doors of the captain's ready room. Deliberately Schoen paused for an invitation, then walked into the comfortable office not bothering to invite Brower to follow.

"Captain Tobias Sutherland," Rutledge announced with formality indicating the older, distinguished, white-haired man seated at a small, glass-topped desk, "may I present Commander Andrew Brower," he said stiffly. The captain remained seated during the introductions, but once he had nodded, Rutledge departed quickly, passingy Brower who had finally stepped inside.

There were a few moments of silence while Andrew remained at attention. He stared straight ahead, not daring to steal a glance at his new commanding officer until proper protocols had been observed. He had heard stories about the captain's legendary gruffness, and he wanted to do nothing which would give his senior officer cause to form a bad first impression.

In short order the older man brusquely stood and extended a firm handshake. Slowly he examined this new addition to his crew. His eyes lingered up and down the man's sturdy build. "You're early," he finally managed to say in a brusque tone.

Andrew did not know how to handle the suddenly awkward situation. He decided strength was better than deference in this instance. "Begging the captain's pardon, sir. But at the Academy we were always taught that 'early' is 'on time'."

Sutherland appreciated his new exec's assurance, making a mental note. "I make no apologies for the lack of ceremony at your arrival, commander," the captain continued, warmth still lacking from his expression. "The ship is facing with an emergency situation, and I simply couldn't spare anyone."

Andrew's eyebrows raised, watching as the captain sat and motioned for him to do the same. Quickly he slipped into one of the comfortable, high-back chairs opposite the desk. He was intent, carefully listening to what the captain was explaining. To him the older man's posture and facial expressions indicated a degree of agitation, yet his voice yielded no hostility. Sutherland seemed calm, reasonable, and articulate which led Andrew to reason that the captain was a very focused man, so focused that he was in too much of a rush to act outwardly pleasurable for the benefit of others.

"In less than twelve hours I expect this ship to be mediating a dispute which could well lead to armed conflict," the captain explained. Concern filtered across Andrew's features. No wonder why the ship seems in a heightened state of activity. It was only now that he took greater notice of the vast array of padds and computer information spread across the captain's desk, no doubt in preparation for whatever mission lay ahead.

Sutherland's white eyebrows ridged as his forehead tightened in concentration. "Earlier today the long-range Starfleet monitoring post in the Corelli system intercepted a distress signal from the Federation colony on Lia IV. The colony was under attack." He paused to visually search through the jumbled pile of information on his desk, finally spying what he had been after. "Approximately one hour later a subspace signal was broadcast to the Federation by a group calling themselves the New Tholeseus Confederation."

A look of recognition flashed across the young officer's face. The captain urged him to elaborate on what he knew. "Isn't the New Tholeseus Confederation an offshoot of the Tholian government?"

Sutherland nodded, impressed and moderately surprised at the commander's insight. "Somewhat. The confederation is a handfull of planets and star systems which have broken away from the main Tholian government. During a bitter territorial dispute the Tholians finally allowed the involved systems to secede and form their own governing body. The Tholians refer to them as a bunch of thieving renegades and says they aren't worth tracking down. But now that same group has overrun our Lia IV colony and is threatening to kill every colonist unless the Federation agrees to turn control of the system over to them."

"Are they bluffing?"

The captain shook his head deliberately. "Lia IV has always been a disputed world between the Federation and Tholia, but up till now it was never considered important enough to go to war over, nor was there ever a negotiated treaty regarding the area. Still, Starfleet heavily equipped the colony with a vast array of defensive systems in order to keep it safe from any incursion. Now these so-called renegades have upped the stakes. If they were able to overrun that colony, they apparently have the military power--and ambition--to annex the entire Lia sector."

"Is there a possibility the Tholian government covertly involved in these attacks, making it appear as though the renegades are to blame?" inquired Andrew. "It certainly would explain how the renegades got their hands on enough ships and weapons to overrun a Federation colony."

"Starfleet is considering that as one distinct possibility," Sutherland nodded. "But that theory doesn't hold up under closer scrutiny. There is nothing in or around the Lia system worth any value. As I said, it's been several decades since either side has laid formal diplomatic claim to the area. It became Federation territory merely by default. Now the colonists are paying the price."

Andrew grimaced. For some reason the Lia IV colony sparked a memory in him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He wondered aloud at how many lives were at stake.

"There are over twenty-five thousand colonists and Starfleet researchers on the Lia Station. It's our job to see that as many of them as possible come home safely," answered Sutherland.

The room again grew quiet as both men contemplated the situation.

Finally Sutherland drew in a deep breath and leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting his elbows on the smooth surface of his desk. "I would like you to personally oversee preparations for this mission, commander. This ship has twelve hours to be ready, and we'll face whatever challenge awaits us at Lia IV, whether that be a diplomatic mission, or more likely--armed conflict," said the captain, his face seemed to recoil slightly with regret at prospect of the latter.

Being new to the ship and unfamiliar with most of the crew, what the captain was asking would be a formidable job, but Andrew accepted the assignment. "I will do my best, sir."

The captain well knew this task would not be an easy one for Brower. Leading an unfamiliar staff, and he knew his officers would not make it easy for this new exec. But as of yet Sutherland could do nothing to remedy that situation. He had his own misgivings about this new first officer. "See that you do, commander."

Andrew stiffened at the harsh undertones still present in the captain's voice and nodded. "Yes, sir," he answered, wondering privately if he had already done something to upset the man.

As soon as the captain indicated, Brower departed to begin his arduous task of preparing the ship for what lay ahead.

Andrew paced silently around the perimeter of the turbolift as it descended into the lower regions of the Avenger. He used the time to assess his situation, deciding how he would handle this new assignment, and determining how he would persuade his new crew to give him what he needed without alienating them in the process.

It was often awkward for an established crew to receive a new first officer, especially a crew that had served together for more than a year such as this one had. But it was even more difficult for a new XO to step in during a time of crisis. It was at times such as these that one often called upon the strength of Starfleet training rather than any inner strength of character. But in this case, he would do both.

He knew Avenger's crew was an established group of trained professionals who had been serving together for thirteen months. They were used to each other, and the captain had come to expect a certain high level of performance from them. The ship's crew was generally considered to be among the most efficient, finest prepared, and best trained teams in service. Even Captain Forrester had explained to him that Avenger was a choice assignment. Though much of the crew was young, they were anxious to prove themselves.

And with the recent loss of their first officer, stepping in to become a part of this established team was not something that was going to be easy.

He knew it would take every skill he had to make this first mission a success.

The lift swayed slightly beneath him as the car slowed and arrived at deck nine.

Brower stepped out of the lift and made his way to the Security office. He paused briefly at the doors to mentally brace himself for the first encounter with his new crew. After a moment, he stepped inside.

He was puzzled to see the office completely empty. He searched the outer office, then the Security Chief's suite. Oddly, he found no one. "Computer, what is the location of Lieutenant Rataan?"

"Security Chief Kaleran Rataan is in jefferies tube D-seven, forward section," the computer chirped."

After a slight blink of surprise Andrew set off for deck four.

The long crawl through the access tunnel made his arms tired, but he decided it was good for him. If he had been away from this for so long, then perhaps he needed a little reminder of what physical exertion was like. As he approached the intersection of tube seven he heard faint tapping and what sounded to him like the electromagnetic pulsing of a micro-resonator. Suddenly the noise stopped.

"Who's there?" a male voice full of rigidity asked, bravado echoing through the tunnel?

"Commander Andrew Brower, ship's new first officer," he called out. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Rataan."

There was a lingering pause. "I'm Kaleran Rataan." Another pause. "You need me for something, commander?'

Brower was surprised by the odd situation. "Are you by yourself in here?" "Yes, commander. Is there some problem?" the man asked with concern.

Brower continued to crawl towards the sound of the other man's voice. Why would the ship's security chief have crawled through hundreds of meters of jefferies tubes alone, and what would he be doing way out here? "I thought perhaps I could meet with you--take this chance to get to know one another," he explained. "When you weren't in your office... I tracked you here." Again there was no reply.

Brower arrived at the intersection in the tube and crawled around the corner to find a man, who he guessed to be in his late thirties, dressed in a gold Starfleet duty uniform lying on his back staring up at a large open access panel. In the man's right hand was an engineering tricorder, in his left was indeed a micro-resonator. The man's concentration seemed to be focused on the tricorder. From the muscular build Andrew would have guessed Rataan was human, but from his face and proportions of his ears, he looked almost Vulcan. But Andrew knew from his personnel records that he was from Rigel V.

Kale stared at the readings. Damn, he thought. Point-oh-four. It has to be point-oh-five. Abruptly he dropped the tricorder and tool in apparent disgust. His concentration was gone. He rolled over in the confining space to face this intruder, now focusing on making conversation. "What would you like to know, sir?" he said, feigning a polite demeanor. Instantly he regretted the bite in his voice. It was unlike him to have such careless disregard for protocol.

Andrew was taken back a bit by the abruptness, hoping it was because he had intruded on some delicate work, and that this wasn't due to anything else. His encounter on the bridge with Rutledge had set him on edge and he was now concerned, perhaps overly so, with how he was coming across to other senior staff members. He tried to divert attention from his true purpose by making smaller talk. "I apologize for this intrusion, lieutenant. I seem to have ruined whatever progress you were making on these critical repairs," he said motioning to the open access panel, which he recognized as a the maintenance hatch for one of the energizing coils of the upper phaser collimator.

Kale's eyes glanced at the open hatch and back, then he shrugged. "Though important, the repairs weren't critical, sir."

"What exactly were you doing?"

Kale busied himself with gathering his tools and equipment and loading them back into his repair kit. "I was trying to get the phase variance of the energizer up to point-zero-five percent."

Andrew furrowed his brow. "What is it operating at now?" He was suddenly concerned that such a key defensive system might not be operating properly.

"The energizer initializes at point-zero-four," Kale answered. "I need it to be point-zero-five."

Point-zero-four? Brower knew that reading was only one-tenth of a percent off. Safety tolerances allowed the coils to energize with as much as a whole percent discrepancy, while operable tolerances permitted five percent. But if the ship were called into battle, that tenth of a percent could end up costing them precious time while the computer compensated. "Did someone order you to repair this energizer?"

"No," Kale shrugged. "I saw that a key tactical system wasn't operating to designed specs. One never knows what this ship will be asked to face, and I thought it was a necessary repair. I like to have all the systems under my watch operating at peak efficiency."

"Wasn't there an engineering team available?"

He shook his head. "No, everyone is tied up with assignments which have a much higher priority than this one. But it needed done, so I came to do it."

Certainly Brower was impressed. The lieutenant had seen a discrepancy, and with no one else to fix it, he had taken the initiative to make the repairs himself. It was certainly team-thinking. Rataan could have easily waited for an engineering crew to get to it, or could have sent one of his own team members out to fix it. Instead he had grabbed a tool kit and crawled through meters of access corridor to personally tend to the problem. That was dedication.

Kale finished packing the repair kit and then stuffed it off to the side, turning to give the new XO his full attention. He had been preparing for this conversation for days, and now was as good a time as any to get it over with. "So, what is it that you would like to know about me, sir?"

Andrew appreciated the officer's directness. Rataan did not appear to be one for small talk. Unfortunately that was making the situation awkward. "I would eventually like to discuss your staff, scheduling, tactical considerations and various other departmental concerns... but I thought we might get to know each other a bit first."

Kale thinly tried to hide his frustration. "Is there anything you need to know about me, commander, that isn't in my personnel file?"

It didn't take Betazoid senses to feel the frustration and underlying animosity building in the young security chief, but Andrew could not tell exactly what this hostility was directed at. He tried to soothe the situation, remaining calm and cordial. "Not right now. If there is, I'll let you know." He tried changing tactics. "Perhaps there is something you would like to know about me?" he offered.

For a moment Kale hesitated, not believing such a perfect opportunity had presented itself. "Anything?"

Brower shrugged. "Anything."

After brief consideration Kale decided to ask the question that had been burning in his mind since he had begun researching this new first officer. "Perhaps you can provide a little insight into the four year period on your service record that Starfleet Command has designated as CLASSIFIED."

The blunt query caught Brower off guard. He shifted uneasily, suddenly uncomfortable, then decided to rest back on his haunches. The jefferies tube seemed more constrictive than he had noticed.

"Surely you know what I am referring to, commander," Kale badgered.

He nodded. "I do. But I'm afraid I cannot give you any more information than you presently have."

Kale exhaled, relaxing a bit. "As security chief, it's my job to safeguard the lives of every single member of this crew. In order to do that I need to be informed. You must understand the difficult position this situation places me in."

Brower thoughtfully brushed his own right cheek, stroking an ungrown beard with frustration. His patience was wearing thin. "I do indeed see your predicament, lieutenant. Unfortunately I cannot help you," he explained truthfully. "Starfleet Command must have good reason for classifying those events. Like it or not, I hope you understand why I cannot second guess their wishes by revealing restricted information to you." He looked at the lieutenant seriously.

Kale regarded Brower coolly, pondering the commander's words for a moment. The conversation had all but proven his suspicions. But what could he do about it? Like it or not, Brower was the new first officer.

Checking to make certain no one was around, Brower sighed quietly as he walked down the corridor of deck eleven. The second portion of his meeting with Rataan had been as tense as the first. The two seemed to be on opposing sides of just about everything; staffing, scheduling, tactical matters, and especially Andrew's shrouded background. But despite everything, he liked Rataan. He sensed something inside him, that he was a good officer, and that deep down he knew what was right and wrong. The fact that the two of them seemed to have a slight personality conflict was only an incidental.

The doors opened and Andrew walked into the main engineering complex. At first it was deja vu. The sights and sounds were an eerie reminder for him of his days on the Intrepid. He stared at the multi-colored facets of the warp chamber and was reminded of those last fateful moments aboard his old ship just before the captain had given the order to abandon her.

Shaking himself out of the reminiscent stare he visually searched the crowded engine room for the chief engineer. All about crewman darted here and there, engineers worked on consoles, and activity was constant.

Andrew hadn't bothered to notify each of the department heads he would be paying them a visit, for much the same reason as he hadn't called a senior staff meeting; his people were far too busy to be taken away from readying the ship to brief him on their plans. But he needed to meet with them to provide a ship-wide strategy just the same. To save as much unnecessary waste of time as possible he had decided to meet with each of the senior officers separately. This would serve the two-fold purpose of allowing him to get to know each of them better on an individual basis while still allowing each of them to continue with their appointed duties.

Andrew approached an engineer who was working at a nearby duty station. "Excuse me, ensign. Can you point out Chief Engineer Lucas West to me?"

"Who wants to know?" demanded the gruff AustraLia accent of the engineer who had yet to look away from his console.

The disrespect in the man's voice ate at the core of Starfleet protocol which Brower upheld so righteously, but he simmered privately for a moment. His next words were as calm as his first. "The new first officer, ensign......?" He paused expectantly.

Suddenly the startled ensign spun around in his seat, standing to attention. His face was red. He fumbled a bit. "Uh..., Sanchez,... sir. Jartiz Sanchez, impulse specialist."

Brower nodded, resting a hand on the lad's shoulder. "Ah, Mister Sanchez. Can you please point out the Chief Engineer to me?" His eyes followed the extended finger of the trembling engineer across the room, he spotted a rather dapper younger man was consulting with three other engineers near the warp control console. "Thank you, ensign."

He strode over toward the chief engineer's group. "Commander West?" Andrew began, "I am--"

"The new first officer," West interrupted. "Yes, we've been expecting you," he continued, seemingly annoyed. "Is there something I can do for you, sir? I'm a little busy to be giving tours just now."

The chief engineer's discourteous reply had again taken Andrew by surprise, but this rudeness among the senior officers was apparently a developing trend. Again he calmed himself and proceeded with measured civility. "I would like to take a few moments to discuss your department and the preparations for the upcomin--"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me, sir. I'm a little busy right now to--"

"And perhaps you did not hear me, commander. I would like you to take a few moments so that we may discuss your department's preparations for this mission," Brower said forcefully, his tone still precisely modulated. His anger was mounting, but so far he was managing to control any outward appearances."

West's face grew red as he felt the eyes of the engine room slowly finding their way to the conversation near the warp core. Suddenly the room had become so quiet he could hear the frequency shifting in the dilithium matrix.

Before allowing West to rebut further, Brower extended his arm, inviting the engineer to take this conversation behind closed doors. "Perhaps you would feel more comfortable discussing this in your office, commander." He saw West begin to shake his head, but Andrew pointed more forcefully.

Within moments the two had walked down the short access corridor from Main Engineering to the chief engineer's office. West strode in first, walking behind his desk and dropping into his seat.

As the doors closed Brower walked right up to the desk and leaned forward across it, looking down at the engineer. "If you have some problem with me, mister, I suggest you bring it up right here and right now," he flared, though his voice was low and quiet. His cheeks were showing a bit of redness, but he was doing a good job at keeping visible signs of his anger in check. At times such as this when he was really upset, the outward signs nearly disappeared. At his most lethal he was also at his most calm.

Lucas West glared across the desk at this new first officer. He stared right into the commander's eyes, into the eyes of the man he was sure had come to take apart everything he and the crew had worked to build over the past thirteen months. And he was angry. Angry at Starfleet for sending him, and angry at the man for coming.

Since her construction, the Avenger had been dispatched to every hot spot in the quadrant. That was her mission--it was what she was built to do. But slowly, deliberately, ideas at Starfleet Command had been changing about what the ship's true role should be. Many admirals thought such a small, underpowered, and undermanned vessel as Avenger couldn't meet the challenge of peacekeeper.

Almost a year ago those in power had tried to subvert the Avenger's mission by swapping out the ship's older, experienced crew with a young, untried, undisciplined crew--this crew. But to the surprise of everyone, the company had pulled together. Under the leadership of Captain Sutherland they had whipped the ship into shape, becoming one of the most successful in the fleet. They accomplished what they weren't supposed to accomplish, succeeded in the face of adversity. They had proven to the Admiralty that Avenger and her crew were worthy of their assignment.

But the questioning continued. And now they were being tested again. Starfleet Command had sent a saboteur into their midst, someone who would surely see to it that the Avenger would fail. And, as did most of the crew, Lucas West was certain that individual was Andrew Brower.

West looked across the desk with loathing at his new senior officer. For many moments he was too angry to speak. Then he got a hold on himself. It was difficult. The thought of all that hard work--wasted. It made his blood boil.

"Well, Mister West?" Brower waited expectantly, locking eyes with the young lieutenant commander. "Do you indeed have a problem with me, or shall we proceed with the discussion of your department's readiness for this mission?"

Lucas angrily searched for the right words. He did not wish to tip his hand, alerting the commander he was on to him and the dark designs of Starfleet. But he did wish to make his position clear. "Off the record, sir? He saw the other nod. "Yes, commander, I do have a problem with you," he proclaimed candidly, waiting for a rise out of Brower.

But Andrew would not be baited. Calmly he pulled up a chair and sat, removing himself from direct confrontational distance.

"I have a problem with any commanding officer who would disregard the hard work of a good crew merely for their own personal and political gains," West continued bitterly.

Suddenly Brower was more confused than he was angry. There must have been some misunderstanding. "And you think I am such a person?" he asked with genuine naïveté.

Now it was West who was puzzled. "Yes, sir, I do," he maintained.

"And might I ask what makes you think so?" Brower inquired rationally.

Suddenly West's back was to a wall. There was no proof of his suspicions, at least no concrete proof. "You're service record speaks for itself," Lucas bluffed. He knew of no other way to answer the question without getting into an area which he did not wish to go.

A pensive frown momentarily crossed Andrew's features. He had no idea what West could be referring to, unless it was the fours years of classified service that had so bothered Rataan. Why is this causing such a problem? he wondered. "I stand behind my past service record... proudly," he added with honor. It wasn't all of Starfleet's commanders who could say the same and still maintain a clear conscience. Few could say they would stand behind every one of their past command choices, but Brower could. And for that he was proud of himself. "If you are referring to something in particular, I fail to see your point," he stated, genuinely trying to see what the difficulty was between them.

Lucas continued to stare with hostility across the desk. But he sensed none in return. As he watched the commander, he wondered what the man's game was. Was he a plant, or not? Certainly emotion could not be the judge. He noticed that Brower had carefully managed to keep his emotions in check, even when he had been deliberately provoked. That was the mark of a good officer, but it was also the sign of a truly calculating man. And the possibility did exist that this was all a trick--that Brower was acting. But if so, he was one of the best liars Lucas had ever seen.

Frustrated, Lucas reclined in his chair. He could no longer vent his anger without tipping more of his hand than he cared to reveal. But sooner or later he would put this new commander to the test, determining once and for all if the man could be trusted.

Suddenly relegated to little else, West finally conceded to talk about the upcoming mission and the role his department would play.

Dr. Christopher Logan looked up from the work on his desk as the doors to his sickbay suddenly parted. It was almost a subconscious reaction. He noted the new arrival then dropped his eyes briefly before the realization of who was standing in his sickbay sank in. When it did, he snapped to alertness, his gaze riveted. Peering through the transparent aluminum partition which separated his office from the outer treatment area, Chris examined the stance of Avenger's new first officer with a critical eye. Commander Andrew Brower cut quite an imposing figure, but it wasn't his command presence Logan was summing up. He was studying Brower as a rival for the affections of a woman.

The day the Avenger's crew had heard of Brower's posting to the ship, the woman most prominent in his life had come to him with a confession. Schyler Anderson admitted that she had once been romantically attracted to Brower, and the attraction was NOT a casual one. In fact, she had admitted to being deeply in love with him. Chris had seen the pain in her eyes as she spoke, and though she claimed to no longer have feelings for him, he feared seeing Brower again would rekindle the flame.

He watched as his medical assistant spoke to Brower. The man pointed toward his office door, but Logan was on his feet before they arrived. "Commander Brower to see you, doctor," Logan's assistant said. He nodded in acknowledgment, then with great reluctance left his office to meet with the new first officer.

"Good afternoon, commander," Logan said as he made his way into the outer treatment center. He extended a hand.

Andrew grasped the doctor's hand and shook it firmly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, doctor. I have heard a great deal about you."

"Your reputation has proceeded you as well, sir," Logan offered. Both men locked eyes momentarily and Chris was surprised to suddenly find he was comfortable in Brower's presence. But he also noticed a thin cloud of fatigue that seemed to surround the man. Silence hung in the air between them. "Won't you have a seat in my office," the doctor offered at last.

Brower nodded, following Logan through the door into his sterile cubicle. He chose a seat directly opposite the CMO.

Chris settled in, hoping for a little 'give and take' conversation. He was by all accounts a people person, and he enjoyed the challenge of getting to know people, even when he wasn't looking forward to it. But Brower apparently had other ideas.

Andrew was too weary for another confrontation, something he wanted to avoid at all costs while meeting with the doctor. He was also too drained for idle chit chat--a tactic that hadn't been working anyway--so he chose the direct approach instead. "Doctor, you are aware of our mission to the Lia system. What do you feel is the emergency readiness status of your department?" he asked, some of the frustration lingering from his earlier dealings with the other department heads seeped into his voice, twisting his tone to sound edgy and more confrontational than he would have liked.

The doctor's eyes narrowed. He was taken off guard. "I always try to keep my department in the highest state of readiness," he answered flatly.

Andrew quickly sensed that he was allowing this conversation to get off on the wrong foot, and he tried to recover, but it didn't seem to help. "Yes, of course. But have you faced a real emergency with numerous casualties since assuming your post on board Avenger? Is your staff able to deal with such an event?"

Chris could feel his hackles rising, but managed to keep his voice under control. "As you may have noticed, the medical staff on board is quite large for an Intrepid Class ship. The extra staffing has been assigned primarily due to the critical missions this ship was destined to undertake. My staff has been put to the test on several occasions, and they are well-trained and dedicated. But the answer to your question is no, we have yet to deal with vast numbers of casualties. However, I believe we are up to the challenge if such an event were to pose itself." He crossed his arms defensively.

Brower regarded Logan coolly for a moment, allowing his own terseness to settle. "What makes you think so?"

Logan fought the urge to sigh aloud. This was exasperating. He wondered what Schyler had ever seen in this man. "Commander," he said in slow, measured tones, "I know my people... and I have faith in them."

Suddenly Andrew's face lit up. For the first time today he seemed to be getting somewhere. "Good!" he declared. "That's just what I wanted to hear."

Logan cocked his head and stared at the commander curiously.

Containing his enthusiasm, Brower explained. "What better measure of a staff's worth is there than for them to have the faith of the man who commands them?" He eyed the doctor carefully, hoping to belay some of the animosity building between them. "Especially if that commander is a man at the top of his field."

Logan suddenly felt his cheeks redden, hoping it wasn't too apparent. "Uh, thank-you, sir," he said a bit surprised. "Rest assured the medical staff will always give our best effort."

Brower's lips curled in a tiny smile, and he was contented that at least something was beginning to go as it should. "I cannot ask for more than that, doctor." He leaned back in his chair, physically relaxing for the first time since he had come on board. He sighed deeply, releasing a full day's worth of frustrations.

Relaxing as well, the doctor eyed Brower. He had doubts about this new first officer, but Brower wasn't what Chris had expected. He was much more... sincere. He seemed to genuinely care about his job. None of which made what the crew suspected him of any easier to accept. But it was hard to dismiss his level of concern. Besides, Brower himself seemed to be at odds with the situation.

Logan could see that the situation was taking a toll on the commander, and he hated to see anyone as downtrodden as the crew had made Brower today. He could see an underlying weariness in the commander's eyes, and suddenly he decided to try reaching him on a more personal level. "You look a bit strained, commander," Chris observed. "I know you are under pressure, coming aboard and stepping into the first officer's shoes just as we are to begin such a hazardous assignment. But as a physician, I must caution you to take care of yourself. You're going to have to put all of your problems aside and escape from time to time. The human body can endure only so much stress."

Andrew nodded, convinced the crew was trying to put that particular theory to the test. "I don't think there is any escape," he sighed deeply, reaching up to massage his temple with his right thumb.

Chris heard the fatigue in Brower's voice, but he also heard the lament. The commander seemed deeply troubled by today's events. "I heard via the ships gossip train that your reception this morning was... less than cordial," Logan pried gently.

With another rub to the temple Andrew made a mental notation regarding the speed of ship's scuttlebutt. Reluctantly he dropped his hand and looked into the doctor's eyes. He needed someone to confide in, and Logan seemed like the best candidate so far. And the two did have a great deal in common. Upon looking through the personnel files, Brower had thought that he and Doctor Logan might hit it off eventually. But was it too soon? He needed to keep his objectivity, and the last thing he wanted was to show signs of weakness to the crew--especially this crew. And to confide in one of them might well expose that weakness to all of them.

He searched Logan's face for a moment, finding only genuine concern there. It reminded him of his own sincerity, and he took a chance, gambling that confiding in the doctor would not be something he would come to regret. "Less than cordial would be an understatement, doctor. The people on this ship seem to have built a wall around themselves and it was definitely designed to keep me out."

Logan reclined in his chair, thoroughly and intently listening to what Andrew had to say.

Andrew made way to his new quarters, stepping inside for the first time. "Thank you, ensign," he told the blonde headed and curvaceous officer who had escorted him to his new home. As she departed, he visually scanned his relatively spartan quarters, smiling upon noticing that his belongings had made it here safely.

His recent conversation with the doctor had made him feel slightly more at ease. But this all took some getting used to. He was unused to being the enemy--everyone's enemy. He slumped down into one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room of the spacious but barren apartment, exhausted by the day's events.

The ship had another couple of hours before its arrival at Lia IV. Most of the preparations for the mission had been made and he had managed to meet with every department head, save one, Lieutenant Lanei, Chief Science Officer. But he had deiced to recuperate a bit first. That was what the rest of the crew was doing. Captain Sutherland had made a shipwide announcement for the crew to get in their last bit of recreation during the next hour, because it was bound to be the only down time for several days--perhaps even weeks.

That thought exhausted Brower. His first day aboard and already the entire crew seemed to have some undefined loathing of him. This would certainly be a test--a trial by fire more like it. But he tightened his resolve. He would succeed. This posting would be a success; after all, he had worked his whole career to get this far. If his first day of command was a bit more difficult than he imagined, then he simply had to try a little harder.

As those thoughts drifted through his head, Andrew fell silently asleep, right where he was in the chair.

"Chris!"

Recognizing the feminine voice instantly, Christopher Logan paused in mid-stride and swung around with a wide smile as his pursuer caught up with him. Lieutenant Schyler Anderson jogged down the corridor in her hurry to meet up with the doctor. He watched her approach, and beamed with the same contented admiration he always felt when his eyes fell upon her. By anyone's standards, she was quite beautiful.

Schyler, the assistant engineering chief, had a slender yet strong build. Her reddish-brown hair framed her milky white complexion and dark eyes beautifully. Even in the confines of her duty uniform, it was apparent her figure was to be envied. Yet, despite her charms, she was approachable and very friendly. Everyone who met her liked Schyler.

"Got a minute?" she asked, pulling to a halt in front of him.

Logan smiled to himself before answering, knowing their 'chance' meeting here in the corridor was likely not mere coincidence. "Yes, I suppose I have one or two," he answered playfully. "I'm on my way to dine with the captain."

She blinked in surprise. "Then I won't keep you long. I just wondered if you had met with him yet."

"The captain?" he teased with a devilish gleam. "Oh yes, I've met him on several occasions."

Schyler wrinkled up her nose in mock indignation. "I see you are going to make this difficult on me," she complained. "You know I meant Brower."

Logan's smile suddenly vanished as he crossed his arms defensively. "Yes, I suppose I met him too." He got quiet.

"And... what did you think," she pressed.

She was a bit too eager in Chris' opinion. "What did I think of your former boyfriend?" he rephrased.

She patted his arm gently. "No. What did you think of our new first officer?" she countered.

He raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "To be honest, he didn't make an impression on me one way or the other. He seems to know his job, but I think he might be trying too hard," Chris answered flatly.

Schyler's face flushed as her annoyance deepened. "Trying too hard?" she repeated loudly. "I know you've heard the scuttlebutt on this ship, Chris! How can he help but try hard?" He's up against the wall and you know it!"

He was taken aback by her slight outburst. "You certainly seem concerned about him," he pouted. "I thought you said he meant nothing to you now?"

She cocked her head in frustration. "Look, Chris, my concern for Andrew Brower has nothing to do with my former feelings for him--and everything to do with fairness," she insisted. "Andrew is a good man with an excellent record, and I think he should be given a chance to prove himself. I don't want to see him fall victim to vicious, unsubstantiated gossip." She paused to study his thoughtful eyes. "I always thought of you as a fair man, and I thought you might help hold the gossip at bay while he gets a handle on things. That's all," she invited hopefully.

"Me?" he protested. "What can I do to help him?"

Schyler sighed. "You have the captain's ear more than any officer on this ship." The pair's current appointment for dinner was perfect evidence of that. "He respects your opinions. Look--I'm not asking you to be a one-man fan club for Brower. I am merely suggesting that it would be a service to the ship as a whole if you kept a positive outlook when speaking to the captain about him, that's all. He could turn out to be one of the best first officer's this ship has ever seen."

"I had no intention of spending my evening berating our new exec to the captain," Logan huffed defensively.

She looked into his eyes apologetically. "I never thought you would," she told him softly. "I'm just really concerned about all this talk I've been hearing. Brower seems to have been already tried and convicted by hearsay... and it just isn't fair," she watched his face, "and I thought you, of all people, would know the dangers in that."

He reflected pensively on her words then reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I do. And I will remember what you've said this evening at dinner, okay?"

She smiled, then quickly leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks, Chris. That's all I ask."

"You're welcome." He checked his chronometer and sighed. "I really must get moving. It wouldn't do to keep the captain waiting."

She shook her head. "No it wouldn't. If there's time later, why don't we get together and chat over coffee? I'd like to talk more."

He smiled. "I'd like that too. I'll stop by after dinner." He glanced quickly from side to side, making sure no one else was around, then leaned to embrace her before darting off down the corridor.

Logan paused outside the door of the captain's private dining room to straighten his uniform and inspect the shine on his boots. Suddenly a galley attendant appeared to usher him inside.

"Good evening, doctor," Captain Tobias Sutherland greeted as Logan entered the small dining room. "I'm glad you could come. Please, sit down."

"Thank-you, sir," Chris answered. It was more than kind of you to invite me. I hope you haven't been waiting long," he added as he seated himself opposite the captain at the octagonal, glass-top dining table.

"No. Not long." Tobias picked up a bottle of syntheholic Bordeaux and filled the doctor's glass. He disdained synthetic imitations. But it was hard to keep the genuine article on board. Those bottles were rare and he kept them in reserve for special occasions. "I hope you like my choice. I'm partial to French wines."

Logan knew well of the captain's fondness for French spirits. He raised his own glass and took a sip. "Very good," he smiled. "You have an excellent taste in the vine, captain."

Sutherland smiled at the ritual. He always chose the wine and the doctor always complimented him on the selection. "It never hurts to flatter your commanding officer," he declared jokingly as he refilled his own glass.

There was a thoughtful pause as Tobias changed his demeanor, suddenly becoming solemn. "So... what's your status down in medical, Chris? I hate to say this, but I'm afraid there is a better than even chance your services might be needed before this mission has ended. Negotiations are non-existent and the atmosphere is explosive... at best."

"I can assure you, captain, we are at our highest state of readiness. I understood from the onset this might be our most critical mission to date. I was determined to be ready for any eventuality."

"I am glad to hear that, doctor. At least that is one area I won't have to be concerned about." The captain leaned forward pensively, his brow furrowing. Even a layman could see the uneasiness etched on his face.

Chris made a mental note to start keeping a closer eye on Sutherland's well being.

"This entire mission is strain enough without the worries of coping with an untried exec," Sutherland lamented candidly. He eyed the doctor for a reaction.

"Well, sir, I wouldn't exactly call Brower untried. He may be new to the position of XO, but he has a great deal of command experience," Logan answered carefully.

Sutherland's eyes widened slightly. "You sound as if you're defending him, doctor," the captain challenged.

Chris took a sip of wine while weighing his possible replies. "No, sir, just trying to cut him some slack. I can' think of any reason not to give him the chance to prove himself. He has excellent qualifications, and as far as I know, a clean record."

Sutherland opened his mouth, ready to comment when the doors whooshed open and the galley attendant reappeared.

By the look on the captain's face the attendant knew his presence was unwanted, but having already disturbed the meeting, he decided to speak. "Captain," he said shakily, "dinner is ready. Shall I serve now?"

"No, Mister Rahm," Sutherland answered firmly, enough menace in his eyes to make the doctor tighten as well. "I will ring when we are ready," the captain instructed.

Rahm nodded and quickly departed.

Sutherland picked up his wine glass and slowly tipped it back and forth, watching thoughtfully as the thin, red drink coated its sides and then slipped back to the bottom. "Chris, I just don't know if I can trust Brower the way a captain must trust his first officer. I'm not certain where his allegiance lies; with me, or with Starfleet Command?" He paused, still eyeing his glass. "It's important that I find out."

Logan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I know there are some questions in your mind as to whether Starfleet planted Brower in our midst to spy on the ship's internal activities, however, in the absence of proof, I believe he should be given the chance to prove himself." He saw consideration flash through the captain's eyes. "After all, he was highly recommended by Captain Forrester, wasn't he?" Chris queried.

Tobias gave a rare smile as he thought of Captain Forrester, one of his close friends. "Yes, Marcus spoke highly of him and claims his service aboard Intrepid and the Endeavour was exemplary. In fact, he's quite sorry to lose him... but I still have my doubts." He peered into the doctor's eyes, as they both sat in thoughtful silence. "This is going to be tough to shake, Chris."

Brower knew the captain had given the ship's compliment a few pre-mission hours to get some restlessness out of their systems, but he still had work to do. He entered the officer's lounge and looked around. He was still recovering from his short nap, but felt very refreshed. It only took him a second to spot the Chief Science Officer. Her smooth, hairless scalp distinguished her, even if her sexual allure hadn't caught his attention immediately. She wore a white tunic with billowing long sleeves and an open collar. Cinched at the waist with a scarlet belt, the garment flawlessly revealed her figure. Her clothes couldn't be labeled immodest or provocative by any stretch of the imagination, yet managed to very sensual.

"All right fellas, prepare to part with your paychecks," the Deltan science officer said in a husky voice, slightly accented, as she dealt the cards. "Lady Luck would never turn her back on a sister."

"Just as long as it's luck and not telepathy that helps you, Lanei," jibed the officer to her left.

"It doesn't take telepathy to know what you're thinking, Ford," she replied with a wink. The group laughed at the blush that swept across the man's neck and ears.

Brower took a seat nearby to watch the game for a moment. As he sat he noticed Doctor Logan also sitting at the table. They exchanged quick nods.

Brower sat back to watch the game. There was an obvious camaraderie about the table, and curiously, all the other players aside from Science Officer Lanei were males. He watched with growing interest. Each time one of the participants began a winning streak, the Deltan would throw a flirtatious smile or glance their way, throwing the player's concentration to oblivion. They all seemed aware of her tactics, even joking about it, but none called her on it.

After about fifteen minutes, Brower stood and began moving toward their table. He knew that all the officers were due a little relaxation after the frantic preparations they had been making, but this meeting with the CSO could not be put off. Now he also intended to have a discussion with her about the blatant flirting he had witnessed. Deltans were required to take an oath of celibacy to before they were allowed to serve on any vessel. This kind of conduct was too dangerous.

"Lieutenant Lanei," he interrupted politely, "I'm Commander Andrew Brower, the new first officer. I've been wanting to meet with you but have been delayed with other preparations. I realize you're off duty, but if you could spare me a few minutes to discuss your department...?" he asked looking down at the table full of card players.

Lanei's empathic ability quickly picked up on the agitation that his body language and tone carefully concealed. Her instincts sharpened, and her eyes narrowed. "Of course, commander." Then it hit her. Waves of censure radiated from Brower's thoughts. His disapproval was palpable in her mind.

Her spine stiffened. "I'll meet you in my office as soon as I change into more appropriate attire, sir. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable." She quickly slid out her chair and rapidly strode away before he could reply.

Anger tightened the commander's mouth. The remaining players were unsure how to react. Lanei's abrupt departure had been extremely rude. But knowing her as they did, the men knew she probably felt good reason. She was not prone to overreacting.

"Don't let me end your game, gentlemen," he said in a still cordial tone, turning to leave them to their diversions.

As Andrew walked away the doctor excused himself from the table to follow. "Commander Brower," he called as he caught up with the other in the corridor.

Brower recognized Logan's voice. "Yes, doctor?" he responded politely, slowing but not stopping.

"Commander, I'm not sure exactly what caused Lanei's reaction in there, but I get the feeling that you may have misconstrued what you witnessed during our game," Logan told him.

Brower halted. "Oh?" He crossed his arms and turned toward the chief medical officer. He dropped the cordial undertones in his voice, still not rude, but abrupt. "Doctor, you are well aware as I what kind of havoc a Deltan can cause to a starship crew is she decides to ignore her oath to Starfleet."

"Of course I am. But you've got Lanei all wrong," he explained. "Sure, she's relaxed and flippant when off duty, but she knows the line and she doesn't cross it," he said flatly looking Brower in the eye. "On duty, she's by-the-book. You won't serve with a more dedicated woman, I assure you."

The commander listened to Logan's words, but allowed himself to question how much the man was influenced by an attraction to the Deltan woman. "I'll consider what you've said."

Logan had to be satisfied with that as Brower left him to meet with the woman in question. He turned and headed off for his appointment.

"Come," Lanei granted as the door signal chimed. She stood stiffly behind her desk, ready for confrontation in her teal sciences uniform.

Andrew entered. In a quick survey of her office he noted that there was no clue here of the woman's personality. It was starkly functional, devoid of personal belongings on walls or shelves. There was no mistaking that this was a strictly functional work space.

Lanei didn't wait for Brower to begin. "Commander, I'd like to make it clear that my oath of celibacy is on record with Starfleet Command. I know you are..." she paused for the right words, striving to maintain civility, "concerned with my presence and behavior on this ship."

Andrew wouldn't have chosen such a confrontational approach, but after the rest of his day, he had all but given up on avoiding friction with the ship's senior staff. He was not going to back down from this conflict.

As the first officer of Avenger it was his duty to be alert for potential dangers to the crew. "I am concerned, lieutenant. After what I witnessed in the officer's lounge, I believe I have reason to be," he acknowledged coolly. "Your oath is not optional, lieutenant." His brown eyes searched the woman's face, but it was emotionless. "And should you choose to break it, I will personally see to it that you are removed not only from this ship, but from Starfleet as well. I am not treating this lightly. Do I make my position clear?"

"Perfectly--sir." Lanei's voice was calmly clipped. She leaned forward placing her palms flat again the cold surface of the desktop. "Let me make my position clear, commander. I personally find Starfleet's policy regarding such an oath from Deltans, both insulting and barbaric. The mere presumption that we would take advantage of sexually immature humanoid species, and the demand that we virtually deny a basic part of ourselves to serve with you, is..." anger caused her to sputter for words, "humiliating! Yet we comply. I made the oath. And if for no other reason than personal honor, I will uphold that oath as long as I am in Starfleet!"

Years of tolerating the suspicions and the intolerance of others had forced her to speak and defend herself. "And if my word of honor is good enough for Starfleet Command, sir, then I refuse to allow you to question it!" Her eyes challenged him to judge her, to deny her integrity.

Andrew was silent for a moment. Her words had powerfully revealed the suspicion and bigotry which had possibly set policy for Deltans in Federation service, but he respected her for so ardently stating her position. Carefully he examined his own motives, consciously checking any such biases in his own judgment. "I accept your word as an officer, Lieutenant Lanei," he assured her finally. He hoped she would understand.

Slowly Lanei straightened. She could feel the sincerity of the commander's statement. He was trusting her words as he would any officer. She also realized that he was merely offering her a chance to prove her words, not disregarding his own feelings that she was a potential threat. But it was a start. And it was more than many officers had given her in the past. "Thank you, commander," she accepted the truce.

A smile tugged at his lips for only the second time today. "Shall we discuss your department now?" he encouraged.

"Of course," she indicated a seat as she pulled up a chair behind her desk, grateful to be able to leave her personal conflicts alone, and deal with work.

The door chime sounded and Schyler struggled to pull herself back to consciousness. She looked around the room quickly, orienting herself. She was in her own quarters, curled up in her favorite chair. Again, the door chime sounded and this time she stood, smoothing her clothing and tossing her reddish brown locks over her shoulders. "Please enter," she called finally.

The doors glided apart with a swoosh and Dr. Christopher Logan stepped inside. As he caught his first glimpse of Schyler, an appreciative smile passed his lips. She was dressed in a long teal dressing gown, tousled hair and the fact she was rubbing sleep from her eyes did nothing to diminish her beauty. "I woke you," he observed softly.

"Um, yes..." she nodded. "It appears you did."

He moved closer and gently touched her cheek. "Are you all right?" Concern showed in his eyes.

She smiled. "Yes, doctor. I'm just a little tired. Relax." She took his hand from her cheek and held it momentarily. "Would you like that cup of coffee I promised?"

He nodded. "And some pastry would be nice too."

She cocked her head inquisitively. "I thought you had a meal with the captain earlier?"

"I did, but a little dessert would be nice."

They walked over to the food replicator and Schyler ordered two cups of Colombian coffee, black. "What kind of pastry would you care for?" she asked.

"Austrian apple strudel." His mouth was already watering in anticipation.

She nodded in agreement. "Sounds delicious," Schyler told him, turning to order the confection and carrying the tray of drinks and snacks to the small dining table.

As she slid the small dessert plate to him, Chris took a large bite of the hot apple strudel, savoring the flavor. He closed his eyes and slowly opened them, nodding in approval.

Schyler ignored the food in front of her, folding her arms. "So...?" she asked urgently, trying to nudge the conversation.

He hurriedly swallowed the mouthful of pastry, nodding. "It's very good," he answered innocently.

She rolled her eyes. "No. I meant how did your dinner with the captain go," her voice was more than a bit impatient.

"Oh, that. It went well, I guess," answered Chris as he lifted another bite of strudel.

She sighed heavily. "Could you be a bit more specific, Chris? How does he feel about Commander Brower?"

He frowned. She was much too preoccupied with Brower's situation to suit him. "The captain is having trouble warming to our new first officer, Schyler. If you simply must know, Captain Sutherland believes Starfleet Command may have assigned Brower to keep tabs on the ship. It's going to be hard for him to get past that."

Schyler's eyes widened. "It's not true, Chris!" Andrew would never accept such an assignment."

"Andrew?" he asked arching one eyebrow coolly. He watched as her face began to grow the brilLiat burgundy color of the captain's wine at dinner.

"Knock it off! You know we're old friends. I'm concerned about his career, nothing more." She looked up across the table with pleading dark eyes and softened her voice. "What did you tell the good captain?"

He gave a shrug. "What could I tell him? I could neither confirm nor deny his suspicions." He was goading her. He could have told her that he had stood up for Brower, advising Sutherland to keep an open mind. But something within him wanted to test the depths of her devotion to the new first officer. He leaned back casually and watched for her reaction. At first she seemed stunned, but then he saw disappointment slowly begin to creep into her expression.

"You're telling me you said nothing?" she asked incredulously. "You sat there and listened to the captain repeat the rumors and gossip that have flooded this ship for days and you didn't say a word in Brower's defense?"

Chris paused, his eyes searching her soft face. He tried to read whether her concern for Brower went beyond loyal friendship, but he could gauge nothing. "I didn't say that," he answered after a nearly endless pause.

Suddenly Schyler realized what had been whirling about in the doctor's mind. She reached across the table and put her hand firmly on his. "Chris, I promise you, I don't feel anything for Andrew, beyond friendship. You are the one I care about. Now, please quit being defensive and tell me what was said. Okay?"

He took a deep breath and relaxed. "All right, I did point out to the captain that we had to concentrate on hard evidence in support of our suspicions about the new first officer. And I urged him to give Brower a fair chance to prove himself. That's all I could do," Chris said with a shrug.

"Fair enough," Schyler told him, breaking into a war, smile. "Thank you, Chris." She looked at the time. "You know, it's still early and I'm wide awake now. Why don't you stay for a bit? It's been a while since we've had some quiet time together, and once we get into this mission... who knows when we'll get the chance to see each other?"

Now it was his turn to smile. "Sure, why not? There's some Andorian relaxation rhythms I've been wanting you to hear, and--"

The comm channel tone interrupted, "All senior staff, please report to the ward room immediately," said the voice of Commander Brower. Then the line closed as quickly as it had opened.

"So much for our quiet time," Schyler lamented, her mouth curled in a pouting frown.

They both stood and walked towards the door. Pausing there they embraced silently for several moments. "Take care of yourself, Lady," he told her softly. "I don't want anyone carting you in to sickbay in need of my services."

"I'll be fine," she assured with a smile. She raised herself up on her toes so she could reach his lips. Their kiss was short, but carried many unspoken messages.

When he released her, he smiled and back out the door with a silent wave.

As Brower continued to speak, he registered the responses of the senior officers seated around the conference table before him. Outside, the stars streaked past at warp, their thin red and blue traces visible through three huge viewports which lined the forward wall. Inside, the atmosphere of the ward room was tense at best.

Captain Sutherland had been scheduled to preside over this important briefing, but the situation on Lia IV had worsened and at this moment the captain was receiving an impromptu briefing from Admiral Forestall in the ready room. Now Andrew was left with the task of briefing the assembled officers on the latest mission developments, which were bound to change once the captain's meeting had ended.

"And so," he finished, "that's where we stand at present. We expect to arrive in the Lia system in less than one hour. The captain wants us to be prepared to encounter heavy resistance, and as of now all departments are on full alert. Are there any questions?" He stood at the head of the round table waiting for questions and comments.

Only quiet, glassy stares met his inquiry causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He wanted only to get back to the bridge, but was determined not to look as desperate to get away from this assemblage as he felt. He tried to strike a comfortable looking stance, then made brief eye contact with each of them. To his right he locked gazes with West, Rutledge, and Lanei. To his left were Rataan and Logan. When his stare met the doctor's, he finally got a response.

"Commander, do you expect the captain to conduct a final briefing before we arrive in the Lia system, or will this be it?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.

Brower relaxed a bit, glad to have a question to address. "No, but I expect the captain to update us all on any new information he recieves from Starfleet's briefing.

Logan nodded. Rataan shifted in his seat and West mumbled something under his breath.

Brower looked up at the chronometer on the wall, suddenly hurried. "Is there anything else?" No one spoke. "Then I see no reason to detain you any longer. If you do have questions, do not hesitate to contact me." He gave the group one last purposeful glance. "Dismissed." He headed out the door and onto the bridge.

Lieutenant Rataan got to his feet as if to leave but the others remained. Once the door had shut behind the new first officer he again took his seat.

They all eyed one another, unspoken conversation passing between them, but West was the first to speak aloud. "Well, that was impressive," the engineer's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Lanei smiled at Lucas' customary grumblings. "Well, I certainly didn't get much from this briefing," the Deltan science officer sighed leaning back in her high-back, gray suede chair.

Rutledge nodded. "I expected more mission details... or at least some new shipboard procedures."

There was a general consensus around the table that the meeting had been valueless, but the doctor felt compelled to speak up--if for no other reason that to appease Schyler's sense of fairness. "I'm sure Commander Brower gave us the information the captain wanted us to have," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

West eyed him suspiciously. It wasn't like the doctor to be so easy on outsiders, especially when their small family was in such a vulnerable state. "Why are you defending him, Chris?" he grilled.

Logan folded his arms defensively. "Who's defending him?" He tried to sound casual.

Rutledge jumped in. "You are," the Ops chief said confidently. "You can't fool us, doctor. We all know you too well."

Chris smiled slightly at having been so transparent. "Yes, and knowing me as you do, you should realize that I am not trying to defend Brower. I just believe he should be treated fairly. I mean, can any of you come up with a concrete reason not to trust him? Hmmm?" He looked around the table waiting for a reply.

"Treated fairly?" Rutledge scoffed. "Is Starfleet treating us with fairness? Why do we owe Brower any fair treatment?" He knew the answer, but wanted to see what the others would say.

Lanei slowly shook her hairless head from side to side. "Because he's a Starfleet officer, that's why. That alone entitles him to fair and impartial treatment by his crew--that's us," she reminded, glancing around the table at their faces.

Logan half-smiled, glad to see at least one of them siding with him on principle.

"I don't have a problem with him as an officer," Kale explained, also finding the principle an easy one to defend. "In fact, despite the tense circumstances of our first meeting, I found him to be a very pleasant person and--"

"Well I do have a problem with him as an officer!" West interrupted hitting his palm on the flat, hard surface of the table with a slap. "I have a problem with any officer who would sell out their crew to advance their career."

Logan rolled his eyes. From anyone else the notion West had just expressed would have been ludicrous, but knowing Lucas as they all did, something like this was almost expected. The chief engineer was often rash, and at times even hot headed. "No one has suggested that Brower's ever done anything of the sort," Chris retorted. He momentarily studied the engineer, wondering if this notion had all been West's creation, or if shipboard rumor had played a large part in it. Somehow he believed it to be the latter.

Kale then seized the opportunity to jump back into the conversation, finishing his interrupted thought. "As I was saying, he's a nice enough guy, but I just don't like the fact that Starfleet Command has classified a whole four year period of Brower's service record. There are parts of his file that have been sealed by Fleet HQ. I don't even have the required clearances to gain access to the information." He locked eyes with Chris for emphasis.

"That's funny, Kale. You don't seem to have any of those same misgivings about the six years missing from Rutledge's records," Lanei pointed out.

Rataan shot a disapproving look her direction as Schoen shifted unhappily in the seat across from him at the table, displeasure evident on his face.

Ignoring them, West again slapped the table top emphatically. "I knew it! It's just like they say, Brower is a plant send aboard by Starfleet Command to keep them informed about our shipboard activities." His anger was building and his face was red. "They're just waiting for a chance to take back our assignment and send us off to become some kind of supply transport, or something." His eyes smoldered.

The friendly squabble might have seemed heated to an outsider. But knowing them all for so long, Chris could almost pick one of them and foresee what they were going to say next. It would have actually been very amusing if not for the fact that the discussion was leading them nowhere. But when West started to get this worked up, it was always best to change the subject--or leave the room. "Look," he said finally," all I am saying is that Brower at least deserves the chance to prove himself, or fail trying. Condemning him to failure isn't fair to him or the ship. We need to work as a team, and a team cannot function if there is mistrust and deception among the players."

"Spare me the pep talk, doctor," Rutledge scoffed with mock sarcasm. "Save that speech for the admirals who sent Brower here to spy on us."

Logan sat quietly for a moment, eyeing the rest of the officers at the table. It was clear this argument was an uphill fight. Everyone seemed to have their minds made up about this new first officer. And he had certainly done everything he could to help the situation work itself out. Whatever was to be done now would have to be done by Brower. "Well, then. I guess there's nothing left--"

The sound of the yellow alert klaxon preceded the message from Brower by only a moment. "All senior officers, to the bridge."

"On screen, Mister Ford," Captain Sutherland said as he turned to stare at the new image of the damaged satellite on the viewer. "Magnify."

On the viewscreen was the image of an orbital defense perimeter satellite that protected the outer edge of the Lia system. It had been nearly decimated.

As the rest of the bridge crew went about their work, the senior staff filed in from the ward room. Rataan took his position at tactical, while Rutledge relieved Lieutenant Ford at Ops. Logan made his way to the center area and stood next to Brower. "What's going on?" he asked.

Brower explained the situtaion quietly without taking his eyes off of the viewscreen. "We've just dropped out of warp and entered the Lia system." He nodded to the viewscreen. "It seems that every one of their defense perimeter stations has been completely destroyed."

"Analysis, Mister Rutledge?" the captain asked.

Rutledge was busily catching up on the sensor data he had missed. "The satellite appears to have been destroyed by a focused energy weapon, similar to a phaser beam."

Sutherland nodded. Only a very powerful beam would have been able to knock out defense satellites such as these. "Are we able to determine exactly what type of beam was used?"

Rataan was already busy on that piece of the puzzle at tactical. He shook his head, a furrow in his brow. "Computer estimates a ninety percent probability that the beam was a type of Tholian energy weapon, but..." he trailed off.

"You're not as certain?" Sutherland questioned.

Rataan's fingers danced across the computer workstation. "The energy patterns are very similar, as are the residual power signatures, but there are also variant ionization effects which do not match up precisely."

"Perhaps this confederation of renegades has found a way to modify or enhance current Tholian weaponry in a way we aren't familiar with," Brower suggested to the captain as he stepped to the upper rim of the bridge, glancing at the information on Rataan's screen.

The bridge was thoughtfully quiet for a moment. "We shall soon know," Sutherland spoke up. To find out for certain they would have to pay a visit to the colony itself. "Mister Jansen, plot a course for Lia IV, full impulse."

"Red alert," Brower said straightening. "Raise the shields and bring all defense systems on-line."

As the Avenger drew closer and closer to the fourth planet of the Lia system the bridge remained thoughtfully still. There were no signs of hostile ships or anything amiss. If not for the distress call and the destroyed satellites, this would have appeared to be a hoax.

"Still no sign of hostile craft?" Brower checked with Rataan.

Kale shook his head. "The board is clear. Long and intermediate range sensors pick up no ships in the system.

The Avenger swung into a standard orbit around Lia IV. On the viewscreen the planet appeared much like Earth, yet with more land mass than water. Swirled white clouds filled the upper atmosphere while branches of bright blue oceans and rivers spread across the surface like so many tentacles of a giant jelly fish.

The captain eyed the planet carefully while Brower stood behind him on the bridge's upper level. He was intently studying information at the exec's computer station.

"Ops, report," the captain's no-nonsense voice asked.

Rutledge was already busily scanning the class-M world below. After several scans, he had come to a grim conclusion. "Captain, as we orbit the planet senors are scanning the surface, but so far I've detected no life signs."

The bridge became eerily quiet. The prospect that twenty thousand people had been kidnapped or even brutally murdered was almost incomprehensible. "Mister Rutledge, are you detecting any carbon based, humanoid bodies?" the captain asked bluntly.

"No, sir," Rutledge answered, almost relieved. "There are no remains."

If the citiznes of Lia IV weren't on the planet, then the claims of the renegades must have been true, Sutherland reasoned. "The confederation indeed must be holding the colonists hostage," he observed aloud.

As Rutledge continued his scans it struck him as strange that so much of the planet's surface remained untouched. But the colony... "Captain, the extent of damage to the colony is fairly extensive," he apprised, placing the close-up image of the devastation on the viewscreen.

The charred and burned out buildings of the former Federation colony on Lia IV were an awesome sight. Rutledge shifted the aerial view several times, switching between damaged areas of the city. While the destruction was consistent over most of the colony, one thing was evident: only an extremely powerful vessel-or vessels-could have caused damage of this extent.

"Doesn't look like there's much left," Kale observed solemnly. "Of either the people or equipment."

"Can you locate the shield generators and defense power station?" Brower asked eyeing the damage.

Rutledge worked at his sensor console, soon pulling up the specified image on the viewscreen.

The captain took great interest in this new display. "Magnify and enhance," he instructed. Rutledge quickly complied and Sutherland noticed that his assumption was correct; along the outer perimeters of the power station were large gaps in bombardment. The site impacts were too specific to have been part of a mass aerial barrage. "Mr. Rataan, do you notice the wide striations on the exterior of the power generating station and the deep explosive craters near the shield generator?" It was a rhetorical question and the captain continued. "Look at how the areas in the middle are relatively untouched."

The assessment was indeed true. Certain portions of the buildings had been completely decimated, while other portions had been nearly undamaged. In one of the close up views, a fountain could even be seen still spewing water into the air while only meters away sat the burned out ruins of a building.

"What would such evidence suggest about the attackers of the outpost, Mister Brower?"

Andrew nervously shifted his weight as he felt the stares of everyone on the bridge, save the captain, fall upon him. He had no idea where Sutherland was going with his assesment. "I don't know, sir." he answered honestly.

Points for honesty, the captain thought. "Mister Rataan?"

"Such a precise hit might suggest that the hostile vessel, or vessels, knew exactly what they were doing when they made their attack run on this facility," Kale answered confidently. "They knew exactly where and how to strike in order to disable the colony's offensive and defensive systems."

Brower looked down at the back of the Sutherland's neck, feeling at that instant like a school boy who hadn't done his homework. And he was certain that was precisely what the captain had intended.

Captain Sutherland was nodding. "Precisely. It is my opinion that the attackers of this outpost either had prior knowledge of its defensive capabilities and weaknesses, or they had assistance from the inside."

The bridge was quiet at this new suggestion.

As the ship continued to make its circle of the planet's orbit, soon Rutledge's console began to beep quietly, breaking the silence. "Captain, I am reading life signs on the surface." He studied the new information more carefully. "Confirmed, I am definitely reading seven human life signs deep within the central government complex." He quickly called up a tactical schematic on the viewscreen. The diagram marked the surrounding terrain and seven flashing dots indicating the newly discovered life signs.

"Hail them," Sutherland instructed.

Rutledge shook his head. "They aren't receiving. They may not have a communications device."

Sutherland was contemplative for a few moments. "Doctor, your thoughts on beaming the survivors aboard?"

Logan shook his head slowly. "I would suggest caution. We're not certain what condition these survivors are in medically, or what they've been subjected to. After the trauma of seeing their whole colony decimated, the last thing we want to do is frighten them."

The captain agreed. It seemed risky to beam anyone aboard until the true nature of the situation had been ascertained. But these seven people were possibly the only living beings who could help him solve the mystery of what had happened here. They quite possibly could have information about who had attacked the colony, and therefore they had to be contacted. He stood up abruptly. "I'm going down there," he announced as he started for the turbolift. "Mister Rataan, please have Ensign Bareeth meet me in transporter room one." He tapped his comm badge. "Sutherland to Loga--"

"Begging the captain's pardon, sir," Brower interrupted as he walked between Sutherland and the doors to the turbolift. "But I don't think it's appropriate for you to be beaming to the surface until we've run an extensive threat assessment. It's too dangerous."

Sutherland stopped and stared at Brower. The tension on the bridge jumped up several notches. But the captain remained more calm than most had expected him to. "I realize that you are doing your duty in seeing to my safety, Mister Brower. But those seven people," he said pointing to the blinking red dots on the viewscreen, "are the only ones who can tell me who's responsible for the destruction of this outpost and the kidnapping of its population. I am going down there," he said dramatically.

But Brower would not back down. "Captain, I must reiterate, I cannot allow you to beam to the surface until we know your safety can be guaranteed."

Sutherland was angering, not because Brower was trying to prevent him from endangering his own life, but because they were wasting precious time. "Mister Brower, I am ordering you to step aside," he said intensely. "Time is critical, and I do not have time to indulge you in your coddling treatment of a senior officer." As he stood there waiting for Brower's reply, he couldn't help but be impressed with the passion for which the commander argued his case. Brower seemed genuinely concerned about his safety. In a way, the exec's empassioned plea sounded like a similar lecture Mister Rataan had often recited to him. "Step aisde, please."

Andrew looked at Sutherland briefly, raising his eyebrows. Reluctantly he stepped out of the captain's path. "I will follow your orders, sir. But I do so under extreme protest."

Sutherland lowered his voice to a level more suited for conversation between he and the first officer. "We can discuss your protest at a later time, commander. Right now I have pieces of a critical puzzle to put together." Then he lowered his voice still further, placing a hand on the officer's shoulder. "Don't worry, I've lived to be this old. I'm not as rash and impulsive as I seem."

As the captain walked toward the turbolift Andrew wondered privately if he should do more to stop him. When was it enough merely to follow orders and step aside, and when was it necessary to put more on the line by intervening? He glanced at Rataan who had been watching him since the exchange began and the two exchanged knowing glances. He was certain that similar conversations between the captain and Mister Rataan must have taken place on many other such occasions.

Once the captain had departed, Brower slowly made his way to the lower level of the bridge, carefully eyeing the viewscreen. He couldn't do much to safeguard the captain once he and the others had beamed down, but he could make certain that the area was as safe as it possibly could be before hand. "Lieutenant Rataan, please verify that this system is empty of unidentified craft. Mister Rutledge," he said turning to his left, "please conduct an intense sensor survey of the area immediately surrounding the surface life signs. And make sure you keep a lock on the away team--emergency beam out status."

Both men nodded and set off to work. Soon Rataan reported good news. "The system is still clear, sir. No craft are within sensor range."

Brower nodded. "Make sure it stays that way."

"The away team's transport sight appears to be safe enough," Rutledge answered finally after several exhaustive scans. "The building seems to be structurally sound, and sensors can detect no weapons in the vicinity."

Brower nodded and slowly lowered himself into the command chair. "Very well, commander. Please relay the beam down coordinates to the transporter room."

"Set us down one hundred meters southeast of the coordinates the bridge gave you, Mister Baden," the captain instructed the transporter officer.

Suddenly the doors parted and Doctor Amanda Murphy walked in carrying an emergency medical kit. Her blue medical uniform was a flattering fit to her statuesque figure, while dark curls of hair draped to just above her petite shoulders.

"Doctor," the captain acknowledged her politely as she stepped onto the transporter pad. Security officer Bareeth took his place as well, hand on his holstered phaser. Sutherland stepped up in succession as they all readied themselves for transport.

"The bridge has cleared you for transport, captain," Ensign Baden informed.

"Energize."

A tingling blue cloud of coalescent light surrounded the forms of the three Avenger crew members and they shimmered into oblivion.

The captain and party materialized in a large room. The walls and ceiling were fairly nondescript, and the floor was of a smooth, polished material. It was typical Federation decor for a government institution. Sutherland glanced around, noticing that the space seemed very functional. There were few decorations such as paintings or tapestries, but considering the ravages to the rest of the colony, this area seemed a stark contrast. "Doctor?"

Amanda already had her tricorder open and was scanning the area. "The life signs emanate from the large room just beyond this wall," she said pointing to the large structure in front of them.

Ten meters away a large set of double doors seemed to lead to the connecting chamber. The captain led the way. As they approached, the doors slid open revealing a larger, circular room beyond. The decor was similar, but the ceiling was much higher. The room continued upward for several levels, and above them rounded balconies jutted into the room from other floors. Lining the area where the ceiling and walls connected was a series of clerestory windows which let in bright light from outside. It was Sutherland's guess that this immense room was some sort of rotunda or other grand hall, probably the centerpiece of this building.

Immediately the Starfleet group encountered the seven human survivors. They were gathered together around a central pedestal, apparently some type of computer terminal or interaction device. Upon seeing the officers approaching, the survivors seemed extremely suprised.

Noting this, Sutherland approached carefully. "I am Captain Tobias Sutherland of the U.S.S. Avenger," he announced. "We've come to lend assistance." He watched carefully, seeing a middle-aged man, probably in his mid fifties, as he stepped forward. Unlike many of his companions, the man's clothing did not seem ripped or damaged, and he seemed uninjured.

"I did not think Starfleet would come," the man said cryptically. "But even though you're here, I do not believe there is much you can do to help us, captain," the man replied cynically. "But that's not why you're really here, is it? You've come to insure the safety of the cargo?"

The captain's brow furrowed at the man's odd behavior. He knew nothing about any cargo. "And just who might you be?" Sutherland questioned, trying not to sound authoritative.

The man half-smiled and nodded, quickly changing the subject. "Forgive me, captain. Incidents of the last day and half have eroded my manners," the man explained in a much more polite tone. "I am Governor Baldwin, leader of the Lia IV Colony," he paused, glancing around him at the unseen damage outside, "or should I say, what's left of it."

The captain watched the man, his eyes sometimes shifting to the silent group behind him. "And why don't you believe we can help you?'

Baldwin blinked in surprise, as if the answer should have been self-evident. "There isn't much you can do for us now, captain. The attack is over. But they might be back--if I were you I would take my starship and head for the safety of Federation territory."

Sutherland found the man's behavior very odd, especially for a leader. Was he not concerned for the thousands of lives at stake, not to mention the future existence of the colony? "Lia IV is Federation territory, Mr. Baldwin," the captain reminded. "And Avenger is here to see that all of your citizens are returned safely."

"The it's the citizens you came after, captain?

"Yes," Sutherland answered. "And I don't intend to rest until their safety has been seen to."

"Then you intend to stay?" Baldwin asked, throwing a glance to some of his fellow survivors.

The man's odd behavior continued and Sutherland found it increasingly strange. His eyes flitted between Baldwin and the others. Somehow things did not seem right. They all seemed... nervous. Maybe the attack had frightened them more than anticipated. Or maybe there was more happening on Lia IV than he had been made aware. "Perhaps you would all feel more comfortable back on board my ship," he suggested. "We can get you medical attention, some clean clothes, and a hot meal."

"No." Baldwin stated emphatically. Then he softened a bit. "I mean, we are still searching for additional survivors," he said pointing to the computer terminal. "The main computer is down. The search is slow going, but we wouldn't want to leave anyone behind."

"We can search much more effectively from the ship," the captain assured. "If you will just allow us to beam you--"

"No!" Baldwin interrupted emphatically. "We must stay here to find the others. But if you must, then leave Lia IV. Tell Starfleet we can deal with our own problems."

By this point, the captain was more than suspicious of the governor's behavior. Only someone with something to hide would be this defensive... and this uneasy. "Why are you so anxious for us leave?"

The governor's manner softened again, as he noticed the captain picking up on his agitated state. "We are concerned, Captain Sutherland. The Tholian ships that attacked our colony are extremely powerful. They could easily overpower your ship if you were to stay in orbit."

"What makes you so certain it was Tholiann ships which attacked you, governor?" Sutherland questioned suddenly. The man seemed to fumble, as if he had no answer.

"Our sensor data clearly identified the vessels as Tholian, captain," Baldwin answered finally.

The captain shifted his weight, looking past the governor at the computer terminal and the rest of the group. "I thought you said your computer was off-line? If that's true, how could you know it was Tholian vessels who were responsible for this attack?"

Baldwin became abruptly defensive. "The computer worked for a short time during the attack. We obtained the sensor information at that time, captain. And I can assure you the Tholians are more powerful than Starfleet gives them credit for. If I were you I would return to the Federation and tell them that the Lia IV colony is a lost cause. Our citizens have been kidnapped and our facility destroyed. There is nothing left here."

Sutherland eyed the man carefully, locking stares with him. This did not feel right, and he knew something was going on. He didn't know exactly what, but he did have some ideas... Suddenly with lightening speed he slapped his communicator. "Brower! Get the hell out of here! It's a trap!"

Alarm raced through Brower as he sat on the edge of the command chair. "Drop shields! Transport the away team aboard!" he shouted.

His attention flashed to Rutledge at Ops for confirmation on the captain's status.

Schoen was monitoring the happenings in transporter room one. "There's some kind of interference, we've lost the signal lock on the away team!"

Suddenly the bridge shook with a violent force and distant explosions could be felt rocking the ship. Alert klaxons began to sound and the bridge erupted into chaos. "Report!" Brower shouted.

Kale's fingers flew across the console, his thirsty eyes drinking in information. "We're under attack... by a Cardassian ship!" He seemed dumbfounded. "It came out of nowhere!" How can this be? He seemed to focus.

With Avenger's shields down in attempts to recover the away team, the Cardassian weapons pounded the ship. The first volley tore into the hull plating which protected the starboard nacelle.

"Direct hit!" Rutledge yelled above the noise.

"Bridge, we have a core overload in progress!" screamed West's terse voice. "I'm shunting excess power to the IDF and shutting down the core! Warp power is off-line!"

"Shields up and holding," Kale apprised, "and there's internal damage. Impulse engines are failing, phasers are not operational"

Brower slapped his communicator. "West! Get those propulsion systems up!" he yelled as he leapt from the command chair and strode towards the Con. "Baden, did you get the captain?" he called into the air.

"No, sir!" the transporter officer's voice responded regretfully. "The transporter system has been damaged!"

Damn! There was no time to think. "Jansen, evasive maneuvers!" he turned, "Rataan, lock photons and return fire!"

Again the bridge buffeted as the large Cardassian warship continued to pound the smaller Starfleet vessel.

"A direct hit on their port engine," Kale apprised. "No damage."

"Fire at will!" Brower turned, "Rutledge, open a channel," he instructed, now straightening in front of the view screen.

Schoen's fingers repeated the command twice. "No response!"

Still the ship was rocked by another damaging volley from the Avenger's surprise assailant. Power fluctuated as the bridge rocked yet again.

"Jansen, report!" Brower commanded.

The con officer was shaking his head. "It's no use. I just can't get out of their weapons range using thrusters only."

"Shields down to forty-three percent!" Kale advised.

Brower slapped his comm badge again. "Engineering, what's your status?"

West's angry voice came back across the static-ridden channel. "Impulse drive still off-line. We're re-heating the warp core. But pressure's still too low to initialize the injectors. We can't go to warp!" But they didn't want to go to warp anyway. That would mean leaving the captain behind, Lucas knew.

"What's the warp pressure now?" Brower asked.

"Thirteen hundred kilopascals. It's too low for operational limits," Lucas stressed again.

As the deck rocked beneath him, Brower's eyes flitted from the Con to Ops and back to the tactical station. The ship was outmaneuvered, caught off guard, and the away team had been taken hostage. His only option now was to follow the captain's last order. "Jansen, take us back to secure Federation space, warp one, now," he commanded sternly.

For a split second everyone on the bridge seemed stunned into complete silence. They couldn't believe Brower was going to abandon the captain.

"Did you hear me, commander? The pressure's too low! We cannot go to warp!" West's voice countermanded. "You'll tear the warp assembly apart!"

But Andrew knew that wouldn't happen. He'd tried this before on the Intrepid. Besides, it was either tear the ship apart themselves, or let the Cardassians do it, either way... "West! You heard my order, now carry it out!" He focused on Jansen. "Lieutenant, you heard me. Engage the warp engines, now," Brower told him with resolve.

Reluctantly Jansen carried out the order and the engine struts began to fold up. Initially the vessel began to shudder and rumble, but just when it seemed as if the whole ship would shake apart, the warp engines engaged and the starfield on the viewscreen streaked into warped space.

The entire bridge watched in utter silence as their new first officer led them crippled and wounded, limping back to the security of Federation territory.

"You've abandoned him," Rutledge told Brower bitterly. "You're just leaving him there to die."

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

EMERGENCE II "Brower, get the hell out of here! It's a trap!" Sutherland yelled into his comm badge.

Governor Carl Baldwin lunged for the captain, but Sutherland dodged to the side, avoiding the onrushing man.

Instantly pumped with adrenaline, Bareeth reached for the phaser cupped in his holster, but his action was a crucial second too late.

A bright yellow beam of energy lanced out, striking the security officer in the chest. He fell to the floor, stunned and unconscious.

As Sutherland dashed for cover he saw at least one, maybe two of the colonists had phasers. They were all scrambling for cover behind the computer console.

"No!" Baldwin shouted. But whether he was giving an order to his own people, or issuing a command to Sutherland, no one paid any attention.

The firefight continued as phaser beams leapt back and forth across the great hall sending showering sparks raining down onto the polished marble floor.

Her only nearby cover being the floor, Dr. Murphy dropped prostrate to the ground, grabbing her phaser and shooting back at the colonists.

The captain's mind raced as he grabbed for his phaser and scanned the room for cover. In the open space of the large hall he was a clear target. A phaser beam tracked him, striking the floor, a bare miss. With each shot it came closer as he weaved and dodged in an attempt to find something to shield him from the weapons fire. At the last second he threw himself hard to the floor, allowing his momentum to push him, as he slid behind one of the many rough hewn structural columns which lined the room's outer walls. He hit the floor and drew his weapon.

As he readied himself to take aim he heard a woman cry out.

"Stop!" Baldwin shouted, this time his people listened.

Sutherland cautiously peered around the column, careful to keep enough of the shield in place to protect him from any stray fire. As he widened his field of view, he saw two of the armed colonists holding a fiercely struggling Amanda Murphy between them. From the look on her face, he judged that her cry had been one of anger, not pain. For that he was thankful.

"Captain," the leader was saying, "come out. I assure you, no one will harm your people."

"But Carl..." one of the colonists began to protest.

"That is enough!" Baldwin snapped, cutting the man off. "You fools! Don't you see what you've done? They will never leave us alone now. All of Starfleet will be hunting us like so many wild animals."

"But he was going to--"

"But nothing!" Baldwin angrily cut off a second man who had tried to explain. "We now have no choice!" He paused, reining in his anger. "Captain," his attention returned to Sutherland, "I give you my word, we will not harm you."

As if to prove his statement, he motioned for the two men holding the soiled and disheveled Dr. Murphy to let her go. She angrily tore her arms from their loosened grips and rushed over to Ensign Bareeth, still lying on the floor.

Cautiously Sutherland stepped from behind the stone pillar into the open and lowered his phaser to his side. "What's your game, Baldwin?" he demanded in his most authoritative Starfleet tone. "What's really going on here?"

"I don't have time to explain that right now, Captain," Baldwin smirked. "If you had heeded my warnings when I asked you to leave, none of this would be happening. Now, I'm afraid I am forced to keep you here, as our reluctant guests."

The two men with phasers were ordered to take the Starfleet officers to a side room. Bareeth was still unconscious, so the doctor and Sutherland carried him between them.

Sutherland reluctantly did as he was told. His phaser had been confiscated, along with the doctor's medical kit and all their comm badges. His mind raced as they were trudged though several connecting hallways until they arrived at their destination.

Their temporary cell appeared to be nothing more than a dark, empty storage room. There were no windows or vents, and there was barely enough room for him and Murphy to sit once they had lowered Bareeth to the floor.

The guards slammed the door, leaving the group in near darkness as each took up a post outside.

"What are these people up to, Captain?" Murphy asked.

"I don't know, Doctor," he admitted, "but I intend to find out." His grim determination ran like a steel rod through his words.

"Do you think Avenger left orbit?" she asked. Apprehension filled her at the prospect of being stranded on a nearly barren planet in the middle of remote space, but she was outwardly calm. She was merely voicing her thoughts.

He pondered her question. A gut instinct had compelled him to order the ship to leave. But that same instinct told him that he may have been too late. There had been no reply from Avenger, and that was a bad sign. As if the ship were and extension of himself, he could sense that she was in trouble. "I hope so, Doctor," he finally answered. "I believe there is a lot more going on here than we could have guessed. I doubt we were ever dealing with a ragged group of Tholian renegades."

She thought for a moment. "Then who, sir?"

Unfortunately he had no answer for her.

As he pondered the possibilities, Ensign Bareeth moaned and stirred to consciousness. "Uhhh, ahhhh..." he complained. "My head..."

"Easy, Delane," the doctor said softly, easing him to a sitting position against the wall. "Take it slow and easy, Ensign. You'll be all right soon. You just took a little phaser fire."

"Is that all?" he mumbled with his eyes shut against the throbbing in his temples. "I was sure a K'Tarian rhino had used me as a wallow toy." He was quiet for a moment, then his eyes snapped open in alarm. "The captain!"

"I am right here, Ensign," Sutherland reassured the young man, "unharmed."

"Sir, I apologize," the officer confessed, "I didn't see it coming."

"They didn't want you to see it coming," Sutherland joked, trying to ease the other's remorse with his own dry humor.

"But you did. You knew they weren't on the level," Bareeth insisted.

"I don't understand these people at all," Dr. Murphy scoffed. "Their colonists are taken captive, their homes destroyed, we come to help and they tell us to go away. Now they hold us here," she gestured around at the close, bare walls of the room around them. "None of it makes any sense."

Sutherland nodded. "I believe these survivors not only know who took the other colonists, but may have been collaborators," he explained. "In which case, we are in very serious danger. And we must begin to plan our escape."

The bridge was quiet, and the stars appeared on the forward viewscreen only as thin lines tracing their way across the emptiness of open space. The USS Avenger was cruising at warp speed.

Commander Andrew Brower's attention was drawn indolently to the viewscreen. He stared past the stars, looking into the blackness beyond. He felt like that--empty. Regret filled his thoughts and he yearned to take the ship back to rescue the captain and others.

He was torn. But he could not allow the crew to see that, especially West and some of the officers who had been so vehemently opposed to his decision. Tucking tail and running wasn't something he was proud of, but saving all their skins was. Now at least there was the possibility of going back. Had they stayed the ship most certainly would have been destroyed. Now at least there was the chance they could return. And he was going to do everything he could to persuade Starfleet of that.

"We are entering secure Federation space, Commander," said Jansen, glancing around from the Con position.

Brower pulled his fixated stare from the viewscreen. "All stop." As he watched the stars on the viewscreen slowly streaking to a halt he tapped his communicator. "Bridge to Commander West. How are those repairs coming, Commander?" Oddly there was no answer.

Only seconds later the turbolift doors slid apart. Like two iron gates releasing a pent up lion, Lucas West shot through the doorway and vaulted onto the bridge. Anger and frustration surged through him, the emotions visible on his ebony features. Had the urgency of the repairs in Engineering not required his attention he would have been up here thirty minutes sooner. He continued his purposeful march toward Brower who was seated in the command chair.

But by this time Brower had noticed the engineer's dramatic entry and was on his feet. As he approached, West's anger was apparent. His face was tense and his muscles were flexed.

Brower hadn't been the only one to notice the irate engineer. Both Security Chief Kaleran Rataan and Ops Chief Schoen Rutledge left their stations, rushing to grab West just before he could take a swing at Brower, though he struggled heavily against them both.

"West! What in the hell are you doing?" Kale yelled as he held on tight to the struggling young man.

"I want to know what in the hell he's doing!" Lucas shouted. He was so angry that nothing seemed to matter at this point aside from his rage. Brower had left the captain--stranded him. And he demanded to know why. "You left him back there to die!" West growled.

Brower was stunned by the venom and ire in the engineer's voice. But somehow he could also see the concern in West's eyes. "It was the only choice I had, Commander." His voice was tinged with anger and frustration of his own. The crew's treatment of him the last few days had pushed him to the brink, and his own remorse at this situation with the captain had forced him over the edge.

"Was it?" Rutledge's dark eyes flared as he did his best to hold the struggling West at bay. His strength was tested by the vigor with which the young engineer continued to resist, and he gave brief thought to freeing his hold on Lucas. He hadn't agreed with Brower's decision to leave the away team behind, and had the consequences not dissuaded him, he might have done what West was attempting. "Was it the only choice you had?"

This is ridiculous, Brower thought. He was standing on the bridge arguing his own orders with the crew. "If there is a point you are trying to make, Mr. Rutledge, I fail to see what it is!" The heat of the moment had twisted his words into distorted anger. "Had we stayed, that Cardassian ship would have pounded us to pieces. Retreating was the only way I saw to save the captain and the others."

Slowly the zeal and hatred began to seep from West's body. He began to resist his captors less and less. He eased up, stepping back as Rataan and Rutledge partially released their grip on him. "Then, we're going back?"

Brower regained his composure, pausing to straighten his uniform. "Of course we're going back, Mr. West. As soon as we've briefed Starfleet and made sufficient repairs, we're taking Avenger back to the Lia System."

West was still filled with contempt at Brower for leaving the captain, but now that didn't seem important. What was important was going back. And if that meant going back down to Engineering, that's where he would go. As his anger lessened, he felt foolish, and it was only now that the consequences of his actions were beginning to weigh on him. "May I return to my post, Commander?"

Looking into West's young face Brower could still see the concern and passion that must have prompted him to burst into such a heated rage. His apparent fondness of Captain Sutherland was great. But it was no excuse for what he would have done had it not been for the speed of both Rataan and Rutledge. "If I didn't need your expertise so badly down in Engineering, you'd be staring at four walls in the brig."

The bridge became still. No one dared move, even breathe. Like a morbid sideshow, the heated exchange had become the room's center attraction.

"Now get back down there and get those systems repaired," ordered Brower pointedly, "and stay out of my sight."

Lucas knew that Brower had every right to punish him for what he had tried to do. It was very likely that he could have his commission taken away. And even though his hatred still remained, he was somehow, on a deep level, grateful to Brower for not locking him in the brig.

West looked to Brower like a timid animal being released from a cage into the wild, unsure whether to stay or run. Slowly he ambled toward the turbolift. "And if there is nothing further, gentlemen," Brower addressed Rataan and Rutledge, his stare purposefully locking with the Ops Chief's, "get back to your stations."

Brower turned and headed for the ready room. In doing so he paused, surprised to see Dr. Logan standing on the upper rim of the bridge near the tactical station and wondered how long he had been standing there. He threw a meaningful glance toward the doctor and continued on his way.

Admiral Forestall leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Commander," he said for probably the tenth time in the hour since the discussion had begun. "We just can't risk it."

Andrew drew a deep breath, trying to scrape together a few last shards of patience. He stared coolly at the man's image on the desk viewer. "We're talking about Captain Sutherland. I cannot just leave him in the hands of those... renegades."

The limit of Brower's patience wasn't alone in being tested. Forestall's eyes tightened, his voice became shrill. "Commander Brower, I am ordering you not to take the Avenger on this suicide mission of yours to rescue your captain," his voice strained, as he leaned towards the screen. "Avenger will hold its present position and wait for reinforcements. The USS Renegade will rendezvous with you as soon as possible. From then on, Captain Reynolds will have complete jurisdiction over this mission."

Brower attempted to protest, but Forestall cut him off. "Do I make myself clear, Commander?"

"Completely, sir," Andrew nodded, choking back a growing swell of ire and defeat.

"Forestall out." Suddenly his image was gone, replaced on the screen by the familiar blue symbol of the UFP.

Andrew sat quietly, alone in the secluded isolation of the captain's ready room. He felt more forlorn now than he could remember. The crew blamed him for leaving the captain behind, now Starfleet would blame him for going back.

He was bound by order not to go, but drawn by loyalty to do whatever it took to insure the captain and the others made it back safely. His regret was not based on the crew's disagreement with his decision to withdraw. Under the circumstances, it had been the right thing to do. But his own conscience now argued with his reasoning.

He lamented that his former captain was not here to provide counsel. Captain Forrester had always had the uncanny ability to help Andrew find the right choice for himself.

Suddenly the soft carillon of the door chime pulled Brower from his thoughts. "Yes?" he called, suddenly giving a half-smile when he saw Dr. Logan walk through the opening doors to the ready room.

A thin smile barely crossed Chris Logan's mouth as he made his way into the office. He was not happy, but did his best to conceal it. At Brower's urging he took a seat across the desk from the commander.

Brower was tense, not knowing exactly why Logan would want to see him, but he leaned back and relaxed a little for the first time that day. He wasn't really surprised to see the doctor walk into his office. He had already seen that Logan was very active in shipboard business, and he seemed to be a healer of more than just physical maladies. He was a healer of situations, a peacemaker.

At this point, a peacemaker would be welcomed. Andrew was in need of a sympathetic ear. But he was unsure if that was why Chris had appeared at his door. "What can I do for you, Doctor?" he began tentatively.

"Not a thing, Commander," Logan replied. "I came to check on your well being. I am the ship's doctor."

Andrew nodded and smiled, crossing his arms in front of him. "I'm fine, Doctor. My health is the least of my problems just now."

"On the contrary," Chris corrected, "your health is of primary importance just now. Stress can take quite a toll, and can play havoc with all of your body's systems. Fatigue can make you vulnerable." He paused a moment to look into Brower's weary eyes. The strain on the commander was etched into his features. Logan drew a deep breath and his tone became more serious. "You're shouldering a tremendous burden, Commander, and you need to lighten the load. What I really thought might help would be someone to talk to," he offered.

Andrew's gaze dropped to the desktop and he remained silent for a few moments. Sharing his problems with someone, especially Logan, was very tempting just now. But in doing so, he risked implicating his new friend in his burgeoning plan. Decision made, he raised his head. "The problems run much deeper than you know," he began slowly.

Now even more troubled, Logan leaned forward in his chair, unconsciously inviting the commander to speak frankly. "How so?"

Andrew swallowed hard. "What I am about to tell you can go no further than this room. Is that understood, Doctor?"

"Understood, sir," he answered, a sudden sense of foreboding rushing through him.

"I just finished a subspace conversation with Admiral Forestall in which he was more than clear that Avenger is to maintain position. We are under no circumstances to attempt a rescue of the captain and the others."

Logan's face reddened, his features contorting instantly to reflect his rage. "WHAT!" he cried. "You aren't serious! How can they expect us to sit here and do nothing?"

"Command is under the opinion that we may be dealing with more than just Tholian renegades. They want us to stay away from Lia IV, making no attempt to rescue only a hand full of crewmembers, no matter who they might be," Andrew explained, parroting Forestall's words.

"This is unbelievable!" Chris spat. "Since when does Starfleet abandon their own like this?"

"He promised reinforcements."

"When? In two, three days?" There won't be much hope by then."

"I know," Brower agreed. "But I get the distinct impression that there is more going on here than Starfleet is telling us. They don't want us going back under any circumstances." He sighed heavily, preparing to share with the doctor a decision he had just made. "And therefore we are going anyway."

Logan blinked in surprise, not sure he heard correctly. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me, Chris," he said flatly. "I am taking the ship in to get the captain and others... with or without Starfleet's approval.

Logan paused, struck speechless for a moment. He was amazed. "You're going against orders?" he asked, finding it ironic that Brower would be violating orders of Starfleet Command, when some of the others suspected him, erroneously in Chris' opinion, of being a plant for the admiralty. This would go a long way to dispel the rumors about him.

"What choice do I have?" Brower continued with an angry shrug. "I refuse to sit here doing nothing when there's a good chance we could rescue our missing away team."

Logan nodded in stunned acknowledgment. "One thing is certain," he said confidently, "I think this is one decision the senior staff will back you on."

"You're probably right, Chris, but they're not going to know we're going back to Lia IV in violation of Starfleet Command's orders."

The doctor was suddenly silent, shaking his head from side to side.

"While it may be true that the officers would back my decision, they wouldn't be backing me, but would be showing their loyalty for the captain." He paused to thoughtfully stroke his chin. "I want to stand on my own decision in this matter. And most of all, I don't want anyone else implicated when this all hits the fan." He glanced regretfully at the doctor. "I feel bad enough about involving you in this whole thing."

Logan smiled. "I guess that's what I get for butting in." He paused, then began again in a more serious tone. "I admire your willingness to take sole responsibility for this decision, commander, but I also worry about the strain you're under. Sometimes talking things out can help. Don't hesitate to call me if the need arises. Rest assured I will keep your thoughts to myself."

Brower looked at the doctor thankfully. "I'm glad I can trust you, Chris. It means a great deal. And I do appreciate your offer."

Logan locked stares with Brower for a moment, suddenly feeling that the two had just forged a meaningful new bond.

In the moment of silence that would have otherwise been uncomfortable, Andrew was contented, and very relieved to feel as though he had finally broken through to form a bond with one of his crewmates, one of his new friends. His quiet thoughts were interrupted by the shrill chirp of the comm channel.

"Ensign Cawley to Dr. Logan."

"Logan here."

"Doctor, I'm sorry to disturb you, but one of the engineers just came in with an injury that I think you should take a look at."

"On my way, Ensign," he rose to his feet. "Logan out."

"It must be straining your resources to have Dr. Murphy gone," Brower observed.

"We're managing. Besides, I have every confidence that she'll be returning to us very shortly," he grinned.

Brower returned a short smile. "I'm calling a senior staff meeting in thirty minutes. By then I'll have figured out what to tell the crew."

"I have confidence in you, Commander," Chris reassured, smiling again just before departing.

As the ready room doors were closing the comm tone sounded again. It was Rataan. "Go ahead Lieutenant," responded Brower.

"Sir, we've just finished our weapons analysis of the damage done by the Cardassian vessel in the Lia IV attack."

Brower made his way to the tactical station on the bridge and found himself staring at an extremely thorough, high-tech computer animation filled with complex energy distributions and power signature analyses. "Break it down for me, Lieutenant. What's going on?"

"There's no doubt, sir, the weaponry used by the Cardassians to attack the Avenger were the same ones used to decimate the Lia IV colony."

"Guard! Guard!" Pounding fists echoed on the metal door as frantic voices called from inside. "Guard!"

The younger of the two men glanced at his partner with uncertainty. They hesitated a moment, expecting a trick, then decided to check out the screams.

One opened the door while the other stood just out of reach, covering his partner.

"What is it? What do you want?" the guard shouted. The woman and the captain began talking at the same time, both demanding their med kit and gesturing toward the man on the floor, the security officer he had managed to stun in the earlier fray.

He looked inside. The man was convulsing painfully on the floor. One moment his muscles strained, the next they spasmed and jerked his body wildly.

"It's the phaser stun," the doctor was saying as she grabbed his arm. "He's having a synaptic reaction. His nervous system is shutting down! I have to get my med kit and tricorder!" She nearly shoved the guard back out the door in her insistence that he bring her the supplies.

The guard looked over his shoulder at his partner who was frowning with skepticism.

"Do you want him to die!" the doctor pleaded. "I can't help him without my medical kit!"

The other guard jerked his head towards the main hall. "Get Baldwin and the kit. I'll watch them."

The first man rushed out and down the short passage to the main hall. "Don't even think about trying anything," the remaining guard said, keeping his phaser in hand. But the Starfleet officers barely paid any attention to him. They were kneeling over the downed man, who was now thrashing about more wildly than ever. He was making gurgling sounds in his throat and his eyes had rolled back with the lids jerking spasmodically. The guard had to admit, it looked genuine.

"Help me hold him down!" the captain demanded.

The guard stepped closer then hesitated.

"For God's sake, he's choking to death!" Sutherland grabbed the guard's arm and the man allowed himself to be compelled into service.

The doctor motioned Sutherland to hold Bareeth's feet while the guard tried to pin his arms, allowing her to push a wad of her ripped uniform into his mouth. "Don't let go!" she instructed.

The young guard leaned his weight behind his strength to hold the young man down. That's when he felt Murphy's two fists slam down on the base of his skull. Dazed, he fell forward, and the man who had been convulsing so wildly rolled him over, knocking the last bit of consciousness out of him with a blow to his jaw... and everything went dark.

Bareeth shook his aching hand, as if he could shake out the pain of the blow, but despite his agony he wore a satisfied smile. "One down, six more to go, sir," he said to the captain as he hefted the fallen man's small hand phaser and checked its setting.

"Let's go," Sutherland headed them out into the blind passage which led back to the main hall.

Abruptly they halted, hearing the running footsteps of the returning guard and the impatient voice of Baldwin. They quickly stepped back into their cell and waited.

"I haven't the time for this, Michael. The sensors have to be fixed. They could come ba--" His voice stopped abruptly as Sutherland stepped from the shadows into the open, Bareeth at his side, phaser aimed. The armed colonist had no time to raise his own weapon.

At Sutherland's nod, the doctor rushed from her hiding place behind the door and lifted the guard's phaser from his slack hand. Reluctantly the two men raised their hands in surrender.

"Now, Baldwin, I think you're ready to explain to me what is going on here," Sutherland demanded evenly. "And this time, I want the truth... all of it."

Before the governor could reply, a panicked voice shouted down the hall, "Sir, the sensors came back on line!" He swallowed hard. "The ship is back!"

At first Sutherland thought the man must have meant Avenger. But the pale look of terror on Baldwin's face convinced him there was another ship in orbit above. And this was an enemy which worried Baldwin far more than Starfleet.

And that worried Sutherland.

Brower walked into the ward room to find all of the senior officers assembled, with the exception of Lt. Commander West, whose presence was required in Main Engineering. As he rounded the table, making his way to the chair normally reserved for the captain, Andrew's eyes swept their faces. All were seated quietly. As he pulled up a chair he felt their heavy stares fall upon him. "Most of you know by now, I am ordering the Avenger back to Lia IV."

Thick silence hung in the room until Rutledge finally spoke up. "And what exactly is it that you want from us... sir?" His tone was harsh and confrontational. "Approval?"

Brower eyed Rutledge, careful not to respond with venom of his own. "Answers Mr. Rutledge. I want answers." His gaze met Rutledge's dark, piercing eyes for a long pause. "You're the Ops Chief aboard this ship. I need a comprehensive analysis of what we're dealing with here." Brower paused to take a long breath, leaning forward to place his palms on the smooth surface of the round tabletop. "Where did that Cardassian ship come from? What's it doing in the Lia System? What has happened to the captain? Where are the hostages? Questions, Mr. Rutledge?" he said calmly. "There are plenty of questions. Is it wise for Avenger to go back in alone? Are the captain and the others even alive? And by going back, are we endangering the lives of over twenty-five thousand Federation citizens? You see, Mr. Rutledge, there are too many questions. And I need your help in finding some answers." His eyes scanned the face of the Ops Chief, but there was no visible sign of emotion. He glanced at the faces around the table once more. "I need all of you."

Silence hung in the air for a bit longer until Kale spoke up, tentatively at first. "We're not dealing with any ordinary Cardassian ship. As we've already discovered, our attacker is a modified Galor Class Warship, retrofitted with an altered weapons package." He tapped in a few commands on the tabletop terminal and a schematic of the warship appeared on the view screen. Below the diagram were two linear graphs that spanned the length of the screen. "These altered weapons leave energy signatures very similar to Tholian plasma weapons. But as you can see..." he said, tapping in another computer command. The two graphs slid together, one overlaying the other. Except for a few slight discrepancies, they were nearly identical. "They are Cardassian weapons altered to appear as though they were fired from a Tholian ship."

"Which begs the new question, why are these Cardassians trying to pass themselves off as Tholians?" Brower questioned. "And further, why are there Cardassians in the Lian System in the first place?"

"Let's suppose it was the Cardassians who kidnapped the colonists," Lanei proposed. It had been a radical idea playing around in her mind. But judging from the stares, it was more radical than she had thought. They all stared at her as if she had gone mad. Except Rutledge.

Schoen shifted in his seat. "She may be onto something here," the Ops Chief said, his face showing his version of enthusiasm.

Kale shook his head, disagreeing. "What would Cardassians want with so many Federation hostages? We're not at war with Cardassia."

"True," Rutledge explained, "but your weapons data may be only one piece of a much larger puzzle. I've been piecing that puzzle together, and I am certain that the Cardassians are responsible for everything that has been happening on Lia IV."

Brower's interest was growing. This was certainly the most animated he had seen Rutledge since coming on board. "What makes you so certain, Mr. Rutledge." This was the first time Schoen had seemed passionate about anything.

Rutledge paused for a moment, figuring the best way to answer the XO's question without saying more than he was allowed. "First, the Cardassians are using weapons which appear as though they are Tholian in origin. Second, for argument's sake, let's say those same Cardassians have also taken several thousand Federation citizens hostage, also hoping to pin the blame on this band of Tholian renegades. Third, let's suppose there was something on Lia IV the Cardassians wanted desperately to get their hands on."

He paused, his dark eyes scanning the faces in the group, making certain that they understood where he was going without undue questioning. "I believe the Cardassians are solely to blame for what has transpired in the Lian System. They are the only ones with the capability to arrange the kidnapping and the destruction of the colony."

"But you forget, the possibility still exists that the Tholian renegades are behind the disappearance of the hostages," Brower countered.

Rutledge stifled a scoff. "The Cardassians have to be responsible for the kidnapping of the colonists," he argued. "Even the Tholian Assembly said the renegades are all smoke, no fire. I've seen the Starfleet intelligence reports on them, and I agree with the Tholian's assessment. The renegades couldn't have captured such a large number of hostages at one time."

"Let's just stay with your supposition the Cardassians are behind the colonist's disappearance, what could they possibly be gaining from this?" asked Kale. "What do you believe is so valuable on Lia IV, Commander?"

This was a question he could not answer, and inside, Rutledge squirmed. But his time with Starfleet Intelligence had trained him to remain outwardly collected and cool. "Nothing specific," he lied, "just suppose there were something valuable the colonists possessed."

"Lia IV was a Starfleet monitoring and research post. Perhaps the Cardassians are after information, or perhaps research data," observed Lanei.

Rutledge resisted the urge to shake his head. "Exactly," he lied again, "the Cardassians are after something valuable that belongs to Starfleet."

That's it! It has to be, Brower thought slapping his palm onto the table with a loud smack. "But what would the Cardassians want from the colony? I don't buy that they're stealing research. There's got to be something more." He glanced around the table once more, but this time no one had anything further to add. "Come on people. This is the time for speculation. I want your opinions."

Lanei paused a moment or two longer, then said, "That theory isn't plausible. If the Cardassians wanted something from the colonists, why not just use brute force to steal it. Taking hostages isn't the usual Cardassian way."

"They did try brute force," Kale reminded. "Most everything on Lia IV was decimated."

"Yet the Cardassians still took hostages, why?" asked Lanei with a puzzled expression.

"Wait a minute," Dr. Logan said holding his hands up. "If the Cardassians destroyed the planet, then took the hostages, there would have been some casualties, but there weren't. Why not?"

"You're right, Doctor," Brower said. That means the hostages were taken before the planet was decimated. But why?"

Rutledge's frustration at having to keep silent was eating at him. It was difficult for him to watch the others foundering for answer when they did not fully understand the situation. But he was precluded from telling them. "This is all a ruse," he finally told them, almost under his breath.

"What do you mean, Schoen?" Lanei asked.

"For some reason, the Cardassians are employing a high degree of deception here. They have taken Federation citizens hostage and made it look as though the Tholian renegades were behind it," he answered. "They have destroyed a Federation colony, also making it appear as though the renegades were at fault."

"But why?" Brower asked, feeling as though this conversation always came back to the same question eventually.

"If we stick to the original reasoning that the colony has something the Cardassians want, I can think of two possibilities," Rutledge explained carefully. "First, the Cardassians have taken what they need and are now trying to cover their tracks. Or second, the Cardassians can't get what they want from the colonists, and are trying to prevent Starfleet from arriving before they get what they came for, thus they take hostages forcing Starfleet to remain at arms length."

"Or a combination of the two," Rataan said. "The Cardassians obviously don't have what they came for, otherwise they wouldn't be loitering around the system. And since the colony was destroyed, we can assume the colonists did not wish to go along with the Cardassians' wishes."

"That's true," Lanei observed. "Either they couldn't or wouldn't, but the colonists did not give the Cardassians what they wanted. They aren't in on this whole scheme."

"Not necessarily so," Rutledge corrected. "You'll remember Captain Sutherland's last words to us were, 'It's a trap.' Since we know he was with several colonists when he transmitted that message, we can only assume that the colonists are in some way a part of this duplicity."

Andrew sighed heavily. After this arduous conversation, they still seemed to be far from solving this mystery. In fact, there seemed to be more questions now than when they started. But he was concerned with Rutledge's apparent interest in what was going on, and he felt that the Ops Chief wasn't telling him everything. But there was little he could do about it without proof.

Brower focused. "Our primary objective is to free the captain and find the hostages," he tried to redirect the conversation. "No doubt we'll be encountering some type of resistance, whether it be the Cardassians, the Tholian renegades, or the colonists themselves. We need to be ready for any contingency."

"I need to know that I can count on each and every one of you to do your best. There are a lot of lives at stake here," Brower instructed. "That is all."

He watched as the group slowly began to break up. All remained silent. As he watched them go he wondered which was the bigger enemy here, the unknown--or his own officers. "Mr. Rutledge, would you stay for a moment please?"

Rutledge stopped short of the ward room doors and turned to face the commander.

"Mr. Rutledge... Schoen," Brower said, his voice lower and calmer than before, "I know you and I haven't gotten off to the best of starts. But I want very much to correct that. And I suspect the only way for me to do that is simply to be the dedicated Starfleet commander that I can be."

Rutledge nodded slightly. "Yes, sir."

"But I can't do that unless I have all the facts I need going into a potentially dangerous situation."

"And how does this relate to me, sir?"

Brower relaxed his posture. "I don't think you're telling me everything you know." He watched the Ops Chief's dark, unwavering eyes. They showed no sign of change. "Is there something you're holding back, Schoen?"

He was quiet for a brief moment, his eyes looking straight ahead. "No sir, there is not."

Still Rutledge's appearance had not changed. His breathing was the same, his eyes remained focused. He did not budge. Yet, somehow Brower knew he was not telling the truth. But there was nothing more he could do. He sighed heavily, straightening his posture. "Very well, Commander. Dismissed."

Rutledge nodded and departed for the bridge.

Calmly Andrew watched him go, privately wondering what one of Avenger's officers could have to do with all of this. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the intercom.

"West to Brower. We've completed most of the repairs."

"I'm on my way."

"It appears that things have just become more complicated, Governor," Sutherland growled. "Who are your guests, and what do they want?"

Baldwin was shaking visibly now and was in a state of near panic. "It's a Cardassian warship," he blurted, "and they want to destroy every living thing on this planet. If we don't evacuate in the next few minutes, we'll all be killed!"

"First, give us back our communicators and tricorders," Sutherland demanded.

Reluctantly the governor nodded to his aid, who produced a bag and doled out the confiscated items. "Now, we must go, Captain!" Baldwin whined.

Sutherland was compelled to learn the reason why the Cardassians were here and what they were after, but he could tell by the look of desperation on Baldwin's face that he was telling the truth about evacuating. "Do you have an escape route?" he asked quickly.

Baldwin thought for a moment. There was only one thing that could get them off the planet safely, and it was in the storage complex. And going into the storage complex was what had started this whole mess. But he didn't have time to think about any of that now.

A tremendous blast shook the ground and the building around them shuddered. Plaster fell from the walls and the ceiling overhead.

Baldwin's small wrist communicator beeped and became active. "Baldwin, you fool! This is Gul A'Kare. You sent us chasing after shadows!"

The Cardassian was clearly upset with the governor, but Baldwin did not answer, he merely trembled with fear.

Sutherland tapped his comm badge. "Attention unidentified Cardassian vessel. This is Captain Sutherland of the USS Avenger. This colony belongs to the Lia IV government and its inhabitants who are citizens of the Federation. Any further aggression by you will be considered an act of war. Release the hostages now and withdraw from Federation territory at once."

There was a long silence until finally A'Kare answered. "Ah, Captain Sutherland. It is such a pity about your ship. They put up a good fight, but in the end they were no match for a Cardassian warship of the Obsidian Order."

Sutherland sucked in a deep breath. Thoughts were racing through his head. He wanted to mourn the apparent loss of his ship and crew, but the present situation left him no time. And further, to think that the Obsidian Order was once again trying to regain power on Cardassia set off every alarm in his mind.

"And I will take personal pleasure in killing you and your stranded crewmates along with Governor Baldwin and his puny band of pathetic conspirators," A'Kare roared with perverse delight.

Baldwin was now in a full blown state of panic. "We must leave NOW, Captain!" he screamed. "NOW!"

Wearing a worried expression of his own, Sutherland nodded his agreement. He knew full well that there was no protection for them on the surface from the ravages of a fully armed Cardassian cruiser.

Baldwin flew down the corridor, the rest of the group pounding hard at his heel. Alarms began to sound and soon others joined the group, emerging from intersecting passageways. They rounded a bend and came to a dead-end section of the corridor.

Quickly Baldwin activated a control on his wristband and the wall shimmered and disappeared into swirls of holographic nothingness revealing a gigantic lift behind.

Just as they were getting into the open car frame another blast hit, shaking everyone to the ground. In the distance portions of the building could be heard collapsing. Swearing profusely, Baldwin keyed in a command and sent the lift speeding downward.

As they descended, Sutherland was astounded. The cargo lift was huge, but the surprises were only beginning. The lift descended into a dark shaft which passed level after level of sealed bulkhead doors.

The construction of these levels was markedly different from the government building above, and Sutherland theorized that the two structures were not built at the same time. In fact, the underground construction reminded him of Starfleet buildings and installations he had visited. It was all very curious.

As the elevator made its descent everyone was motionless and silent. It was as if the large, diverse group were thinking collectively, Please let us reach our destination before another jolt hits and hopelessly traps us down here!

After a few more agonizingly long moments, another tremendous blast shook the structure around them and the lift began to fall. It screeched and jerked as the safety brakes tried to engage, sending a shower of sparks inside the cabin. After falling several levels, the car finally slammed to a halt. The brakes had finally engaged, lodging the car between floors only a level or so from the bottom.

Within an instant Baldwin had popped open a hatch in the lift's floor and was climbing through with the others following right behind. They crawled down the half level that remained to the bottom floor and rushed out into a large open room.

The cavernous space reminded Sutherland of a landing bay or docking port of a space station. It was massive. All around were crates and containers with the Starfleet emblem emblazoned across the side. He wondered what all of this was doing down here.

Directly ahead of them was a large runabout with an unusual configuration. Even with the pressing situation at hand, Sutherland could not help but notice the striking differences between this craft and similar Danube Class runabouts. This one was obviously some kind of prototype. Its nacelles were longer and it had a much larger cargo module. It also seemed heavier in appearance, more bulky than current runabouts. And there was the noticeable addition of a weapons pod mounted where normal sensor clusters usually sat. He was definitely going to corner Baldwin to demand some answers once they were all out of immediate danger.

During the few seconds that Sutherland had paused to view the runabout, Baldwin used the distraction, nodding to one of the other colonists in the group.

Upon receiving the signal, the man hurried away to complete his prearranged mission. From a pocket inside his vest he secretly extracted a detonation device. It was his assignment to arm the explosive devices that would blow the whole underground storage depot to oblivion as soon as the runabout had made it's escape. Baldwin was not about to let the Cardassians get their hands on this vast warehouse of Starfleet treasures--at least, not without paying for them. The man departed quickly to fulfill his duties.

"This way!" Baldwin yelled and the group took off toward the aft hatch of the runabout. As they approached the hatch opened quickly, giving them access to the interior gangway.

Sutherland went directly to the command cabin and motioned for Bareeth to take the helm. He slipped into the co-pilot's chair and they began prepping the runabout for departure.

The rest of the group scrambled to strap themselves in wherever they could. Only Baldwin remained standing, anxiously searching for the colonist who had scurried away to set his detonation devices.

A horrendous explosion tore through the surface above them and the entire runabout shuddered. Next, debris could be heard raining down upon the craft. Baldwin made a decision. He would have to leave the missing man behind. "Let's go, Captain!"

Sutherland searched the bay for egress doors or a hatchway, but there seemed to be none. "How do we get this thing out of here?"

Baldwin was sweating and seemed bewildered. "Normally a flight deck team would use anti-grav pallets to maneuver the runabout into the cargo lift where it would be taken to the surface and prepped for takeoff. But since we don't have a flight crew and since that procedure usually takes more than thirty minutes, I suggest you use the thruster to maneuver us up the turbo shaft!"

Sutherland looked at Baldwin and then to Bareeth, who was astounded at the suggestion. It was crazy; they were actually going to fly a runabout up a cargo turbo shaft! But what choice did they have. Slowly Bareeth fired the thrusters, gently lifting the craft and maneuvering it toward the shaft.

As they approached, Sutherland remembered the lift blocking the way. They were trapped. In desperation he activated the weapons systems and powered up the phasers.

As the phasers charged, Bareeth continued moving the runabout closer and closer.

Finally the weapons were ready and Sutherland fired a blast. The beams tore into the wrecked lift and obliterated most of it, but there was still too much debris blocking the shaft for them to get through. Bareeth had to back the craft away so the captain could try again.

Sutherland locked the beams on target and fired. The second blast cleared their path and, everyone in the cabin sighed with relief as the runabout moved slowly into the shaft, but it was far from over.

Bareeth carefully and easily used the thrusters to lift the runabout upward through the shaft. He had less than a meter of clearance on either side.

As they were about half way up the tearing twisting sound of ripping metal permeated the cabin. The Cardassians were getting serious.

"I suggest we go faster, Delane. Much faster," the captain suggested.

Chucking his last bit of caution to the wind Bareeth revved the thrusters to maximum and let the craft accelerate. It shot straight upward. Only twice did it scrape the sides of the shaft.

As it approached the top, the craft shot upward out of the gaping maw of the shaft. Bareeth kicked in the lateral thrusters and energized the impulse engines for a full speed run through the atmosphere. They were through!

Brower glanced up at the pulsating, rhythmic column of iridescent light in front of him. The swirling colors of the warp core were fascinating and mysterious. "Status, Mr. West," he asked in a completely businesslike tone.

Lucas glanced from the engineering console, residual tension from his earlier encounter on the bridge still hardening his tone. "One minute, sir," he answered, continuing on with his calibrations. After he had finished he nodded for a crewman to take over. West grabbed his padd and walked to the center of Main Engineering to brief the XO on the repairs.

Brower took the padd, examining the data scrolling across its tiny display screen.

Lucas eyed Brower, baffled by this person who would betray them to Starfleet, but still fight so hard to rescue the captain. After all, it was the admiralty at HQ that wanted Sutherland out of the way. The current situation would certainly meet that criteria. As he got to know Brower more and more, Lucas was certain only that he knew less about this man than he had first thought.

"As you know, warp power has been fully restored," West briefed. "And you were right about reinitializing the core at that pressure. There was no permanent damage done to the core," he admitted reluctantly.

"Thank-you, Mr. West," Andrew said coolly. "And what of the weapons and shields?"

"The problems with the shields and weapons systems were harder to nail down, but both systems are now mostly operational." He eyed Brower carefully for a reaction. He and his team had accomplished a great deal of work in a very short period of time.

Brower continued to quietly thumb through the data on the padd. "There are slight decreases in shield power," Brower observed finally. "And the aft phaser grid is still non-operational." He looked up, locking glances with West. "I'll do everything I can to prevent it, but chances are those Cardassians are just waiting for us to return. And you can bet they'll give us a fight. Can you guarantee your repairs will hold?"

West answered the demanding stare of his senior officer, and he noticed that Brower's eyes looked heavy with responsibility. For the first time Lucas got a small sense of what Brower was facing. "No, sir. I can't make any guarantees. But I can guarantee that we've done our best. We all want to see Captain Sutherland and the others come out of this alive."

There was a moment of silence as Andrew nodded in agreement with the sentiment.

Suddenly a comm tone interrupted. "Bridge to Commander Brower," said Rutledge's harsh voice over the intercom. "Sir, we have entered the outer edge of the Lia System and dropped out of warp.

Brower's face turned serious as his slapped his communicator. "Battle stations. I'm on my way," he responded, turning to leave quickly. Upon reaching the turbolift doors he turned back to West. "Nice job, Commander."

The doors parted. "Report," Brower said as he stepped out of the lift. He noted an eerie silence on the bridge. Except for the distant chime of the red alert klaxon, there wasn't a sound to be heard. All around the control center tense young officers watched their workstations intently, their young faces bathed in an ethereal red glow.

"All hands at general quarters," Rataan's voice responded promptly. "Shields are up. All weapons systems charged and standing-by."

"Mr. Rutledge?" Brower asked as he stepped down into the center command area of the bridge.

"As with before, I'm reading no sensor contacts," reported Rutledge, his features buried under a frustrated scowl. "The system is quiet."

Brower was uneasy. "Is that your assessment as well, Mr. Rataan?"

Kale double checked his console. "Confirmed, Commander. I am reading no other vessels in the system."

"Perhaps they've departed," observed Dr. Logan. "Our last engagement may have scared them off."

Brower turned toward the doctor, somehow not surprised to find him on the bridge.

"Or perhaps they got what they came for," the doctor's observations continued.

"Perhaps. But somehow I don't think so," Brower shook his head slightly.

"And what are you basing that belief on?" Logan queried.

"Instinct," Brower answered flatly.

Logan regarded the other carefully, watching him as he started intently at the viewscreen, deciding not to press further.

Andrew stroked his chin thoughtfully. He knew the Cardassian ship was still out there, he could feel it. And this time it was he who would have the element of surprise. He turned toward the tactical station. "Rig the ship for silent running, Lieutenant."

Kale nodded. "Silent running, aye. All ship's systems now operating in ultra-quiet."

"Helm, take us on a parabolic course toward Lia IV which spirals us out through the Lia asteroid belt and brings us in from the other side of the Lian star."

Jansen entered the course into the computer then swiveled his seat to face Brower. "But sir, that course will add an additional forty-seven minutes to our arrival at Lia IV."

Rutledge watched Jansen, but he had already figured out what the helmsman could not. By making the ship barely visible to the Cardassian's sensors, it was Brower's plan to sneak the ship along the extreme edge of the system, coming in from the opposite side while using the Lian star's radiation as an additional counter to detection by the Cardassians. The plan was keen in its simplicity, and Rutledge had to admire Brower for that. "You have an order, Lieutenant," Rutledge told Jansen, "now carry it out."

Jansen glanced at Rutledge in surprise, but reluctantly turned to his console and input the course changes. "Course initiated. We'll arrive in orbit of Lia IV in approximately sixty-eight minutes."

Andrew's eyes locked with Rutledge's cold stare, and for a moment he couldn't tell if Schoen was admiring him or harboring a secret desire to kill him.

"Captain," Bareeth reported nervously from the controls of the runabout, "we'll be leaving the atmosphere momentarily. The Cardassian ship should be able to pick us up on their sensors."

Before Sutherland could respond the computer intoned, "Warning! Hostile spacecraft detected. Engaging primary emissions masking field, disengaging warp field coils."

"Engaging what?" Dr. Murphy asked curiously.

There was a tense moment of silence as Bareeth studied the console. "I don't believe the Cardassian ship is detecting us, Captain," he said with disbelief. "This baby's got a cloaking device!"

It was true. Sutherland knew that by now the warship should have detected them and opened fire. But the runabout was being hidden by some type of imaging field which seemed to mask all radiative emissions--it was indeed a cloaking device, installed in a Starfleet runabout. Something which was expressly forbidden under Federation law. The captain's mind raced as his rage built. But first things first. "Mr. Bareeth, continue out of this system under impulse power. We don't want to alert the Cardassians to our presence."

He nodded. "Aye, sir. We'll be clear in," he glanced to the console, "thirty minutes."

Sutherland acknowledged and then turned angrily toward Baldwin. "Governor, I'd like for you to join me in the aft cabin." He saw a hint of resistance in the other's eyes. "Now!" he growled harshly.

Baldwin marched obediently back to the sparse cabin in the aft portion of the runabout, sulking as Captain Sutherland and Dr. Murphy followed him in, closing the cabin door behind them.

The governor slouched onto one of the couches, defeated and bewildered. Sutherland felt no pity for the man. The gravity of what was implied here was enormous, and would have serious ramifications. On the planet's surface he had seen several dozen infractions of Federation law, not to mention countless Starfleet regulations, and he suspected that this was only the beginning.

"I have run out of patience, Governor," the captain growled, pointing his index finger. "I want to know what in the hell is going on here, and I want to know right now!"

"Surely you can piece it together, Captain," Baldwin skirted.

He could. In fact, he had been. "I want to hear it from your mouth. Now start talking," ire threaded his words.

Without raising his head, the other man shrugged weakly and answered. "We found the storage depot not long after colonization began, quite by accident. Someone had taken great precautions to hide it, but we found a way in. You saw for yourself what was there." He looked Sutherland in the eye now. "Stockpiles of Starfleet weapons, illegal weapons."

Sutherland stared back, feeling a bit ashamed for something he had not even done. But he was a Starfleet officer and this troubled him deeply.

"As time went by, we discovered more and more weapons were showing up. But never did we see any signs of the benefactors of the facility," Baldwin explained. "Finally, two months ago a shipment of cryo-canisters arrived, and we knew that we were going to take action. Since the weapons were illegal... we figured no one would make a claim on them if they turned up missing."

"So you decided to sell them," Sutherland surmised darkly.

The governor nodded shamefully.

"What was in those canisters, Mr. Baldwin?"

He didn't answer, afraid to look at the captain's face.

"Answer me! What was in those canisters!" Sutherland demanded.

"There were fifteen canisters. All individual components of a Metagenic weapon."

A wave of sheer terror tingled through Sutherland's limbs. Behind him the doctor gasped in shock.

"A Metagenic weapon!" Sutherland parroted finally, knowing full well how disastrous it would be for such a devastating, powerful biologically enhanced weapon to fall in to the wrong hands. In fact, he wasn't sure there were right hands for such a deadly weapon to be in. "You were going to sell weapons that could potentially be used against the Federation to the Cardassians?"

Baldwin shook his head. "No. We refused to sell the components unless the buyer would promise not to use them against the Federation." Even the governor could hear the weakness of his justification.

"Why did the Cardassians take hostages?" the doctor asked. "Why not just take the weapons from you when they had the chance?" she tried to piece the puzzle together.

"They were too late," Baldwin explained. Another buyer had already agreed to our price. When the Cardassians arrived, the components were already gone. A'Kare flew into a rage and demanded that I reveal the identity of the buyers. When I refused, he took the hostages in order to coerce the information from me."

"And when you still refused, he began destroying the Lia IV colony," Sutherland guessed. "He was probably hoping to kill all of the remaining witnesses and disguise the attack in order to blame it on the Tholian renegades."

"And that's where the fake distress call comes in," Murphy theorized further. "But Avenger's arrival interrupted A'Kare's plans."

Sutherland nodded, "And once the Cardassians are finished decimating the colony, you can be certain they'll continue to go after those components."

Baldwin shrugged, "But I never revealed who the buyers were. A'Kare has no idea where to start looking."

"Then I suggest we get going," Sutherland told him, "while we still have an advantage."

"Going?" the governor asked. "Where?"

"To pick up those components," Sutherland menaced. "So I suggest you tell me who you sold them to."

The governor refused, and the captain reached down and grabbed the man's collar, pulling him close. "Now, before I decide to do something rash," Sutherland threatened.

Baldwin trembled. "The renegades. We sold the components to the Tholian renegades. They have a base on the planet Hakaria," he surrendered.

Sutherland tapped his comm badge. "Mr. Bareeth, as soon as we've cleared the system, set a course for the planet Hakaria, maximum warp. Don't worry about trying to cover our tracks."

"Aye, sir," Bareeth responded. "At warp seven, we should arrive in approximately three hours."

"Captain," Murphy drew his attention, "What about the hostages?"

"Pray for one miracle at a time, Doctor."

"Commander, sensors are detecting a ship," informed Rutledge's deep voice. "The vessel is orbiting Lia IV, keeping even with the grange point of the northern pole, riding the meridian between day and night."

Brower's eyes narrowed as he stepped onto the bridge, studying the blank viewscreen. They were still too far out for visuals. But for the past fifty some minutes Avenger had been able to detect nothing. Perhaps the sensors were merely reading a dust cloud or pocket of ionized particles as a ship. "Mr. Rataan, verify please."

Kale tapped his fingers quickly across his console, double-checking the readings. "Confirmed. I am reading one vessel in orbit of Lia IV."

"Can you be more specific, Lieutenant?" asked Brower.

Again Kale's attention turned back to his console. After a few modifications he answered, "I am reading one Galor Class Cardassian warship."

"The same warship that attacked us," observed Rutledge.

Brower nodded. "Maybe so, but we can't be for certain. If there's one Cardassian ship here, there could be others."

"Entering visual range, sir," Rataan apprised. "Weapons range in thirty-one seconds."

"On screen." Floating on the viewscreen, barely visible, was the orange hulking body of a Cardassian warship. "Magnify." Now the ship filled most of the viewscreen. And through the computer-enhanced image Brower could see the blast points Avenger had inflicted during the previous engagement. It was the same ship, which meant they were probably here alone after all. Perhaps luck would be on their side this time.

"We'll be visible to their sensors any moment now," Rutledge cautioned, "if we're not already." Whatever Brower was going to do, he needed to do it quickly.

Andrew desperately wanted to get past this little impasse with the Cardassians, preferably with a diplomatic solution. But they had proven they didn't want to talk in their last encounter. Did he want to lose the upper hand in this encounter with a hail, giving away his element of surprise. He didn't. But he wanted less to start a needless battle in which some of his crew could be killed. "What is the Cardassian vessel's shield status, Mr. Rataan?"

"Their shields are down, sir."

"Lock weapons on target." It was the perfect opportunity to open fire and destroy them, but he had to consider the possibility that his actions may somehow impact the captain and the colony hostages. "Then open a hailing frequency."

"You can't be serious?" Rutledge questioned.

Brower flashed him a stare, direct and to the point.

Indeed, Rutledge knew the XO wasn't kidding. "Open."

"Attention Cardassian vessel. I am Commander Brower of the Federation starship Avenger. Our weapons are targeted and ready to fire. Stand down and explain your presence in this system."

There was a long, tense delay.

"Their shields are still down," Rataan apprised nervously.

Suddenly the image of a male Cardassian popped onto the viewscreen. "If you have come in search of your captain," said the deep Cardassian voice evilly, "you need not have troubled yourself."

"Why is that?" Brower asked curiously regarding the large Cardassian on the viewscreen.

He was still smiling. "Because he is dead."

A moment passed when Andrew was certain his heart had stopped. "Mute." The Cardassian's words hung in the air on the bridge like a thick, choking smoke.

Brower stiffly took two slow steps toward the viewscreen. "Mr. Rataan, keep your weapons locked on that ship. If it so much as twitches, blow it out of the sky." He motioned for Rutledge to re-open the channel. "Who am I speaking with?"

"I am Gul A'Kare, Commander of the warship, Lih'Dal."

"And how is it that you have come to know about Captain Sutherland's death?" Brower pressed.

"Because I am the one who killed him," A'Kare said matter-of-factly, a bragging, satisfied smile crossed his alien face.

Suddenly the Avenger bridge buffeted and the viewscreen went dark. The ship had been hit by weapons fire.

Brower knew that the blow couldn't have come from the Cardassian warship. "Report!"

"Two Cardassian drop ships are attacking to the aft!" Rataan said. "They're coming in for another pass!"

The ship rocked again, this time more forcefully.

"Set the phasers for multiple-target lock and acquire," Brower barked, lowering himself into the command chair just as another volley rocked the ship. "Open fire!"

He eyed the tactical display to his left. Cardassian drop ships were small, roughly the size of a small Starfleet runabout, but Brower knew they packed a lot of punch.

"One of the drop ships has been destroyed," Rutledge apprised from Ops, as he assisted in the tactical maneuvers.

"The Cardassian warship's shields are going up," Rataan shouted, "weapons systems active!"

"Lock phasers on the warship and fire," Brower ordered. "Jansen, evasive maneuvers, one-quarter impulse."

In the blink of an eye, a beam of orange light lanced out from Avenger's forward phaser array, striking the Cardassian ship dead center. Almost instantly the Starfleet ship veered off, sweeping in a wide arc through the planet's umbra, using Lia IV itself as a shield from the Cardassian warship's weapons

"Direct hit, sir!" Rataan said. "I believe we have slightly damaged their warp reactor. The warship is leaking radioactive drive plasma!"

But it was by no means a victory. The remaining drop ship was still in pursuit.

Again the bridge rocked from impact and the fire suppression system hissed to life, extinguishing a small fire at the port science station.

"Mr. Rataan..." Brower started to shout when suddenly the bridge became quiet.

"The second drop ship has been destroyed, sir," Rataan updated, cutting him short.

"Helm, bring us around one-hundred eighty degrees. Route auxiliary power to the forward shields," Brower ordered. "As soon as we're back in range, lock photons on the warship--"

"They're gone!" Rataan interrupted.

Brower turned toward Rataan. "Gone. Where did they go?" He could tell Rataan was visibly upset, either with himself or the situation.

"In the confusion with the other ships, I lost the sensor lock, sir," Rataan said stiffly. "I apologize, Commander." "Could they be hiding near the planet's poles again?" Brower asked.

"No," answered Rutledge. "I've already looked. I recalibrated the sensors to detect the warship through the interference, but they are no longer in orbit."

Kale scrutinized the sensor logs carefully. "I am detecting an ion trail. It could be the decaying warp signature of the Cardassian vessel."

Brower nodded. "And the drop ships? Where did they come from," he questioned.

Rataan fumbled, unsure of what answer to give.

"My guess is they were hiding in the asteroid belt," Rutledge interjected. Brower's plan had been brilliant in its simplicity. It was so simple that the Cardassians had thought of it as well and used it to plan an ambush.

But the Cardassians weren't the most important thing right now. Brower tapped his comm badge. "Bridge to Engineering. Damage report."

"Minimal, Commander," West's strained voice answered. "But there was some minor structural damage to the port warp nacelle. It's nothing my teams can't handle. We could chance going to warp now, but I wouldn't risk it. Give my guys two hours and you'll have the nacelles back on-line."

Brower grimaced. "Very well. Please report to the bridge," he instructed and turned to Rutledge. "Are you detecting any signs of the away team on the planet's surface.

Rutledge scanned the area around the away team's beam-in point. Finding no one, he expanded the search. "No, sir. I read no life signs from the planet's surface, the away team or otherwise," Schoen said regretfully. Then he noticed something which set even his harden reflexes on edge. "Commander, the structure where the captain and others were transported has been destroyed." With a few taps on his panel he brought up an aerial display on the main viewscreen.

Brower stared at the image, squinting to make out any buildings at all. "Magnify and enhance." The splotchy brown colors on the viewer resolved slightly, showing the scorched outline of where once had stood a huge building. "What was the cause of destruction? Collapse?"

Rutledge shook his head slowly. "Judging from these energy readings and the debris patterns, I would surmise aerial bombardment was the cause."

"The Cardassians," spat Jansen in a near silent whisper.

The bridge was hushed. Andrew drew in a deep breath. Until now it had been easy to tell himself that Gul A'Kare was lying about the captain's death. Now it appeared as if he may have to confront that reality.

Brower tapped his comm badge again. "Brower to transporter room three, prepare away packs for three. And we'll need survival gear and portable scanning equipment."

"Who's leaving the ship?" asked Rutledge.

"Mr. Rataan, you, and myself are going to the surface to search for the captain," Brower pointed. For a moment Rataan and Rutledge just gaped at him with looks of surprise.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think you should be leaving the ship. The Cardassians could return at any time," Kale warned.

"Noted, Mr. Rataan," Brower said, paying no heed to the advice. "I will be accompanying you just the same."

Just then the turbolift doors opened and West strode onto the bridge.

"Commander West, the ship is yours," Brower said starting for the turbolift.

"We are you going?" Lucas was stunned.

"To begin a search for the captain on the planet's surface."

"And you're leaving me in charge?" West asked, his jaw feeling as though it had dropped to the floor.

Brower nodded. "And if there are any further signs of the Cardassians, don't be a hero. Get the ship to safety. That's an order." With that he stepped into the lift, followed closely by Rataan and Rutledge.

Bareeth steered the runabout smoothly out of warp. Outside of some minor stress to the nacelles from being overdriven, the runabout was fully operational. "Captain, we've arrived in the Hakarian System, and are closing in on Hakaria Prime."

"Very well," Sutherland answered from the co-pilot's seat. Standard orbit. Begin scanning the surface for any kind of base or populated colony."

For nearly a half hour the tiny runabout cruised the upper atmosphere of the lush Class-M planet, finding nothing. Then a slight sensor echo caught Bareeth's eye. "Sir, I think I have found something. It could be the Tholian base"

No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than the runabout jolted from the force of a direct impact by a Tholian plasma weapon.

"It would appear you are correct, Ensign," Sutherland said with wry humor. "Open hailing frequencies."

All three of the Starfleet officers sat in the command cabin. Dr. Murphy had settled their passengers in the aft cabin, sedating them to make certain they wouldn't cause further trouble. But the commotion had wakened Baldwin and he had come back to the front cabin.

"There's no response," Bareeth reported. "Doesn't appear like they're in a mood to talk."

A second volley leapt from the planet's surface and slammed into the runabout. The lights dimmed slightly as the cabin shook.

"Really?" Murphy said with sarcasm, "I heard that loud and clear."

"This is Starfleet Captain Tobias Sutherland," he spoke with authority into the comm system. "We are aware that you have obtained illegal access to dangerous biological materials. You are in violation of Federation law by possessing them, and great physical danger."

Sutherland was nearly tossed out of his seat as the runabout buffeted from another wave of plasma charges.

"Our shields are weakening," Bareeth apprised.

"Still no response from the planet's surface?" the captain questioned.

"No, sir," Bareeth responded, waiting for the captain's orders.

Another wave of enemy fire washed over the runabout, shaking more violently than before. "Can you pinpoint the source of those plasma charges, Ensign?"

Bareeth nodded.

"Lock photons on target and fire at will," the captain ordered. "Knock out their weapons array."

"Yes, sir!" There was excitement in Bareeth's voice. He was tired of being a target. He'd been hit by phaser fire from colonists he'd been sent to rescue, shot at by rogue Cardassians, and now these Tholian renegades thought they could take pot shots at him. "Direct hit, sir," he smiled. "Their weapons system is down."

Shortly a Tholian visage appeared on the tiny viewscreen to Sutherland's left. "You have no authority here, Captain--"

"And neither do the Cardassians," Sutherland interrupted, "but I assure you that in the not-too-distant future a Cardassian warship will come calling at your doorstep. They won't ask as politely as I have, and they won't allow anything to stop them until they get what they're after." He paused, allowing that to sink in. "We just knocked out your primary defenses, and we're one lonely Starfleet runabout. So would you rather deal with us, or a Cardassian warship?"

The screen blinked out. Sutherland could only imagine the debate that raged on the surface as the renegades argued over whether or not to believe him. Unfortunately time was running out, and waiting for their answer was not a luxury he enjoyed.

"Ensign, begin scanning the renegade compound for..." he paused, looking to the doctor expectantly.

"Polybiogenic compounds," Murphy filled in. "Most of the components are stored in a dense gelatin suspension composed of synthetic monocarbides."

Bareeth nodded. "That's a pretty tall order, sirs. I'll need to re-configure the sensors to scan in quantum resolution, and that's going to take some time."

Slowly the runabout circled high above Hakaria as Bareeth and the others reconfigured the runabout's scanning equipment to find traces of the deadly bio-components of the super-weapon on the surface below.

The Lian sun beat down brightly on the three Starfleet officers. Brower was sweating and his uniform was soaked. Under the weight of the pack he was carrying and the scorching temperature out in the open, he felt like he was in an Arcturian sauna.

They had been scouting around, digging in the burned out rubble of the main government building for the past thirty minutes. So far there had been no signs of life--or death. They had found nothing.

"Anything yet?" Brower yelled up to Rataan who had climbed to higher portions of the crumbled debris. He seemed to be scanning intently with his tricorder, and in his urgency was about to disappear over the top of the ridge out of sight.

Upon hearing the commander's shouts, Rutledge stood from the smoking piles he was investigating, glancing to where Rataan was headed. He knew what the Security Chief might find on the other side of that hill, but he was gagged by orders, and bound to help make certain than no one from the Avenger should find it. Secretly though, deep inside, he held out hope that the captain would be safely waiting for them all there. He watched closely as Rataan answered.

"Nothing yet, Commander," Rataan yelled back, pausing for a moment to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. "But I am getting some odd readings just over this ridge that I think you should take a look at."

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," Brower told him starting up the hill. "It might be dangerous. Just wait there."

Within a few minutes he had motioned to Rutledge and the two had made their way to the top of the large hill where Rataan was waiting for them.

When the two finally reached the peak Brower was nearly exhausted. Between the heat, the pack, and the climb he was sweating now more than ever. In consolation, Kale looked just as hot and tired, but Rutledge had barely broken a sweat.

Finally Brower caught his breath. "What is it Lieutenant?"

Rataan handed over his tricorder. "Notice the readings of the ground just in front of us, sir."

Brower glanced at the tricorder. Just beneath the rubble was a thick layer of gamma-welded duranium which had apparently been placed underground many years previous. It was mostly broken up, probably in the blast. But there had been a definite structure beneath the government building. "A secret hiding place for the colonists?" Brower theorized out loud.

"And that's not all, sir," Rataan said. He took the tricorder from Brower and scanned towards a specific area approximately fifty meters away. "There also seems to be some sort of tube or tunnel leading underground just beyond that next rise. It was probably deep within the heart of the government complex before the building was destroyed." Unfortunately the tricorder couldn't penetrate much deeper into the ground. Something was interfering with the readings, making it impossible to determine what was in the subterranean shaft or where it led. "What do you make of it, Commander?"

Brower shook his head. "I don't know, but we're going to find out." He started to lead the way down the hill when Rutledge stopped him.

"Perhaps it isn't a good idea to go down into the tunnel, Commander. It could be dangerous," Rutledge warned nervously, hoping Brower would stray away from the place where he knew so many secrets would be hidding. "Perhaps we should return to the ship and continue our scans from orbit."

Brower turned around facing Rutledge, holding up one hand to keep the sun out of his eyes. "Why? We've already determined that the ship's sensors can't scan this area. Otherwise we would have located the shaft earlier." He eyed the Ops Chief curiously.

"Perhaps now that I know where to look I can improve our searching capabilities." Rutledge was desperately running out of options. Orders or not, he was not going to keep this charade up much longer, especially if there was a chance they could find the captain.

Brower titled his head to the side, amazed. "No. We'll make our way to the shaft. If we can't see anything, then we'll return to the ship." He started off down the hill with Rataan right behind him. A reluctant Rutledge soon followed.

It took the better part of the next thirty minutes for the three officers to climb and navigate their way up and over the next mountainous pile of rocks and debris. Finally they stopped at the mouth of an enormous hole nearly twenty meters in diameter.

"It's amazing that the ship's sensors didn't discover this," Kale observed looking down into the blackness of the giant shaft. "It's huge."

Brower agreed. Taking off his heavy pack, he moved closer for a better look. Upon further examination the hole appeared to be of artificial construct. The mouth and edges were rough and debris covered, but further down the shaft appeared to have smooth sides. On one side there was very definitely a ladder. It appeared to be standard Starfleet construction. But he wasn't aware of any storage areas being built under the colony, and this information certainly wasn't in any of the briefing information he had reviewed. But it did definitely appear to be a giant shaft, probably for a cargo elevator of some sort.

Rattan flipped open his tricorder and continued his scans. "The shaft appears to extend down at least one thousand meters. I can't scan much after that." He adjusted some of the sensitivity controls and continued to scan. Suddenly he gasped.

"What is it, Kale?" Rutledge asked, anxious and scared at the same time.

Brower noticed the other's sudden peek in attention.

"I'm reading indeterminent life signs," Rattan answered.

Brower's attention turned back to the shaft. "The captain and others?" he asked hopefully. "Maybe they're alive. This shaft may have been deep enough to have survived the blast."

"I can't tell, sir. The life signs are too faint," Kale answered regretfully. "For all I can tell it could just be a bunch of rats."

"Brower to Avenger," he tapped his comm badge.

"Yes, sir?" Lucas' voice responded.

"Mr. West, call up the original plans for Lia IV government complex in the ship's computer and send them down with Dr. Logan as soon as possible."

"You can't be thinking of going down there," Rutledge said nervously.

"I am," Brower responded. "Is there a reason we shouldn't?"

"You don't know how far it is to the bottom. You don't even know if there are any people alive down there," Rutledge protested. "Those readings could be almost anything."

"I think this shaft is the best lead we've had to finding the captain since we arrived, Commander. And I intend to investigate it thoroughly."

"Sir, with all due respect, the captain is dead!" Rutledge shouted. "The Cardassians told you that." This ploy was the weakest he had tried so far. And he was running out of hope that he could stop Brower now.

"Are you saying you've given up on the captain and the others?" Brower questioned, astonished.

Rutledge was silent for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "No, sir." He was done fighting. If it came down to orders that he didn't particularly agree with or saving the captain's life, he would choose the captain.

Just then a sparkling array of blue light glistened beside where the three officers stood. The form of Dr. Logan materialized onto the dusty pile of crumbling debris and twisted metal.

"Doctor, you're just in time," Brower informed as he took the padd from the other's hand, studying it carefully. Just as he thought, the shaft and what lay below was not on any of the colony's blueprints or schematics. "I hope you brought climbing shoes, Chris."

"We're going to climb down?" Rataan asked incredulously.

"Climb down where?" Logan asked, still unsure of what was going on. Then he caught sight of the huge, dark maw sprawling out before them. "That?" he gaped. "Why can't we just beam down there?"

"You can't beam down," Rutledge answered quietly, resigned to giving up his secret. "The subterranean rock strata prevents transporter entry. That's why they needed such a large cargo lift." He had made his choice, and was determined to live with the ramifications.

Brower just stared at Rutledge in surprise. But it wasn't really a shock. Somehow he had felt something like this was coming. "You knew about this all along, didn't you!" he growled. The other nodded his head. "You lied to me, Commander."

"Yes, sir."

Brower was livid. "How long have you known about this? The whole mission? Did you keep this from the captain too?"

Rutledge nodded. "Yes."

Brower took a moment to calm himself down. "Why?" was all he could finally manage to ask.

"I was under orders, sir," Rutledge answered. "I would never do anything to purposefully endanger the ship--especially the captain." He hung his head, now regretting his decision to remain silent. In following his order to keep Starfleet's secret, he might have aided in Captain Sutherland's death.

"Under whose orders," Brower wanted to know. "Starfleet's?" Suddenly this was all starting to make sense. Admiral Forestall had been reluctant to send the Avenger back for a reason, and this is what it was. He was afraid that his secret would be discovered.

A sick feeling began to develop in Andrew's stomach as the realism started to settle in; Starfleet would sacrifice its own to keep one of their secrets. "Who gave you the order?"

Rutledge shook his head. "I cannot volunteer that information, sir," he responded stiffly, hopefully giving Brower enough of a clue.

"Then just answer my questions. Was it Admiral Forestall?"

"No."

"Was the order given just prior to Avenger's current mission?"

"No."

The answers did relieve Andrew a bit. At least this had not been a direct attempt to sacrifice the ship. But now his desire to know ate at him. His mind filtered back to Rutledge's personnel file. Suddenly it came to him. "Were you given these orders while you were in the service of Starfleet Intelligence?"

"Yes," Rutledge answered, nervous about finally getting the truth out in the open. But he was relieved to finally be free of this burden which had haunted him since this mission began.

Brower looked at Rutledge in a new way. He could see how difficult this must have been for him, and then he thought of his own days of classified Starfleet service. He knew how hard it was to keep secrets, especially from your shipmates. Rutledge's choice could not have been an easy one.

But the time for an end to his silence had come. "Commander, I order you to tell me what is going on here. What is at the other end of that shaft?"

Pensively Schoen slipped off his pack. He paused for a moment or two, kicking up tiny swirling clouds of dust with his boots as he walked. "Before the Federation council ever began to view Lia IV as a potential site for a colony in this sector, Starfleet had already built a secret storage depot on this planet. At first Starfleet felt as though its secrecy had been compromised when the council finally decided to locate the colony here. But eventually the head of Starfleet Intelligence decided that the colony would make excellent cover. So the new city was planned right on top of the underground storage complex. The colonists were never to know it existed."

Brower listened, astounded. He had a hard time believing what Rutledge was saying. Such betrayal and deceit on the behalf of Starfleet? It was impossible. Yet here he stood, face to face with the proof. "What did they store here?"

Rutledge shook his head. "I don't know. I was only here once, and that was before the place was in use. It was just a big, empty warehouse back then." He saw Brower's doubtful stare. "I swear, Commander, that's the truth. I don't know anything else. When my tour here ended, I was ordered not to reveal what I knew about this place. That's it."

There was a long silence as all of the officers thought about the ramifications of what they had just heard.

But there was no time to waste. The captain might still be alive, and Brower was determined to find him. "Does this shaft go all the way down?"

"Yes," Rutledge nodded. "This is the shaft for the main cargo lift. It goes to every level, including the storage bays."

"Then let's get climbing."

Hot and tired, Brower looked back up to the top of the shaft. It had almost disappeared from sight. Luckily they had decided to carry only palm beacons and tricorders down with them. Anything else would have made the climb impossible. It had taken them twenty-five minutes so far, and there was no telling how much further they had to go.

Kale panted as he climbed, focusing on anything other than his fear of heights. This was not the time for distractions. As he went his mind centered on gripping the thin metal bars of the access ladder. He planted each step firmly on the next rung, taking them one at a time.

As they descended, the group passed level after level of sealed floors, containing untold Starfleet secrets. After a while Brower had lost count.

"We're here," Rutledge called up finally. "The lift has apparently been destroyed by weapons fire." They would have to by pass the burned wreckage and climb the rest of the short way down.

With in a few minutes more they had crawled down through the remaining shaft out into the cavernous cargo storage area.

As the group assembled they shined their search lights around the interior of the huge cargo bay. It was several levels tall and wide enough to hold thousands of cubic feet of cargo. It was mostly empty, but around the perimeter were stacks and stacks of sealed containers and other storage receptacles bearing Starfleet emblem.

It was hard to gauge just exactly how big the space was in the dark, but Brower knew it was big, at least as large as the Avenger's shuttlebay. Probably more comparable to shuttlebay one on Endeavour.

Once they had recovered from the climb, Brower split the group up. Logan and Rataan were to look for the source of the life signs, while he and Rutledge and searched for some indication of what this whole thing was about.

Within a few minutes Rutledge had located a computer console. It was dark and appeared non-functional, but took only minor coaxing to activate. He input his old security clearance codes, and surprisingly the panel granted him access. "What am I looking for?" he asked Brower.

"Anything that the Cardassians might have been after. Probably a stash of weapons, or..." nothing else came to mind, "something."

No sooner had Brower spoken than an entry caught Schoen's eye. He called for a detailed description and it nearly took his breath away. "Like this...?"

Brower looked at the entry and felt the blood drain from his cheeks. On the manifest was a complete listing of several dozen bio-agents and individual components for a Metagenic device, one of the most destructive and lethal weapons ever devised. The weapons had also been strictly outlawed by the Federation Council.

For him the whole idea that Starfleet had secrets at all was an enlightening, frightening concept. But for them to have a secret supply of Metagenic bio-agents was incomprehensibly terrifying. "We've got to find those components," he said, already beginning to search for their location.

Rutledge took off after as the pair searched through stacks and stacks of cargo, looking for the right designation.

Finally the two officers arrived at storage bay 113-Alpha to find what they had both suspected was coming. The entire supply of components was missing.

"This goes beyond a colony of missing citizens," Brower said with foreboding. "This is disastrous." He shuddered to think what Cardassians could do with such a deadly weapon.

As the two were lamenting the loss of the bio-weapons to the Cardassians, Brower's comm channel opened. It was Logan.

"We have found the source of the life signs," the doctor said, "It appears to be a colonist, and he's alive--barely."

Brower and Rutledge rushed to the far side of the enormous bay where the doctor and Rataan were waiting. As the two approached they noticed a man dressed in civilian clothing lying on the cold, metal floor. He appeared badly hurt, apparently by falling debris during the Cardassian attack, but he was clutching something in his left hand.

As they approached Logan urged them to be still. "He's hallucinating."

"Why aren't you helping him, Doctor?" Brower questioned.

Rataan pointed to the device in the man's hand. "That's an epidermally encoded detonator. Once he triggers the explosives, they cannot be disarmed."

"Are the explosives active?" Brower asked nervously.

Kale shook his head. "Not yet, but every time the doctor or I try to get near him, he thinks we're Cardassians and threatens to blow the place to Kingdom Come."

"Where are the explosives?" asked Rutledge. "Perhaps there is a chance we can deactivate them before they're armed," he offered, hoping his skill at demolition's work would be of help.

But before Rataan could answer, the man suddenly sat straight up, gasping for air. "Cardassian swine!" he screamed. His face was filled with terror and twisted with anger. He screamed again, his dying breath, then fell to the floor. As he went limp the detonator slipped loose and slid away.

The doctor rushed to him, flipping open his medical tricorder, but it was too late. Logan shook his head.

In the meantime Rataan had rushed to the detonator, to his horror discovering that it had been activated. "We've got to get out of here, NOW!" he shouted anxioulsy. "The explosives are active!"

"How much time do we have?" Brower asked.

"The detonation countdown was set for seven minutes."

"And there's nothing we can do to disarm it?"

Rataan and Rutledge both shook their heads.

Almost instantly the four officers broke out into an all-out run toward the turboshaft.

Brower tapped his comm badge, but there way no reply. Somehow the construction of this storage bay blocked comm signals.

The group quickly wound their way through the stranded lift car and out into the shaft itself.

Rutledge climbed first, silently lifting and pulling himself upward. Rataan followed, intensely grabbing every bar as if it would be the one that would save his life. Brower followed, and the doctor brought up the rear.

Far above they could barely see daylight pouring through the smoky haze in the dimly lit tube. Their goal seemed unattainable.

They scrambled furiously, and as they ascended, Brower could hear his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He knew this was an almost futile attempt. It had taken them nearly a half hour to climb down. There was no way they could make it all the way back out in less than seven minutes. It had already seemed as is they had been climbing forever.

"Brower to Avenger!" he tried calling into his comm badge again. Thankfully he reached West. "Lucas, listen to me carefully. Scan the surface for the away team," he explained, climbing as he went, "I want you to notify us the minute you get a transporter lock. Is that clear?" He jus prayed that they could climb far enough fast enough for the transporter to be able to scan through the interference.

As the four climbed furiously, they were all sweating, making it even harder to keep a grip on the thin metal bars that had been welded in place to form the rungs of the maintenance ladder.

Rataan's hand slipped. He nearly fell, but managed to hang on until Brower could steady him from below.

"Are you all right, Kale?" Brower called up, trying to catch his breath from the scare of the security chief's near fall. But Rataan didn't take the time to answer, he just kept climbing.

It seemed longer than seven minutes. It felt as though they had been climbing forever. And the end of the shaft still seemed small and very far away.

"West! What about now?" Rutledge shouted into his comm badge, still scrambling upward rung after rung?"

"We don't have you yet, Schoen," Lucas' voice sounded nearly as tense as the officer's in the shaft.

They kept climbing, faster and harder. Harder and faster. But it was too late. Far below in the shaft a muffled crashing sound could be heard. Just then Logan peered down the shaft. Far beneath him he could see a huge wall of onrushing flames.

All four officers climbed as furiously as they could, all screaming as they went, except Rutledge. In the last instant they seemed to be going in slow motion. The flames shot upward with lightening speed, and Brower looked down into Logan's sweaty face. This is the end!

Immediately the hard wall of flames was all around them, searing and burning... then the familiar sensation of the transporter started to overtake the heat.

"Transporter room! Do you have them?" West's fearful voice echoed over the intercom.

"Got it, sir" Bareeth happily reported at last. "It seems the components are spread out in various location throughout their base."

"Can you lock onto any of the components and bring them aboard?" Dr. Murphy asked. She knew that without even one of the components, the Metagenic device would be worthless. "The compounds are deadly by themselves, but without the enhancement of metagenics, single components are only capable of wiping out perhaps a small town or city, rather than whole planets or even star systems that a Metagenic device could destroy," she explained.

"Do what you can, Delane," Sutherland told him. "If you can get a lock, beam the components aboard directly into the cargo module."

Bareeth was busy at his console. "I think I've got one now. Engaging the transporter." He nervously monitored the transport. If he were off by even an nth degree, they would all be dead.

Dr. Murphy went to the midship to check the status of the first component. She stared dubiously at the unassuming gray container. There were bio-hazard warnings on the canister's sides, side by side with the Starfleet emblem. She studied it carefully. "The first canister seems undamaged in the transport."

Bareeth sighed in relief, turning back to the console to begin scanning for more canisters. He had managed to transport eight of them aboard when a telltale warning light flashed. "Sir!" adrenaline surged through Bareeth's muscles. "It's a perimeter alert." A Cardassian warship had just dropped out of warp and entered the system. "The Cardassians! How did they know we were here so quickly!"

Sutherland was curious about that as well. "Take evasive maneuvers!"

"Gul A'Kare is hailing us," Bareeth reported with surprise.

"On screen."

When the viewscreen flashed to life, amazement was apparent on A'Kare's alien features. "I am surprised to find you here, Captain. It appears that I may have underestimated your resources."

"A serious error, A'Kare," Sutherland informed. "I will not allow you to get your hands on the Metagenic device. And if I have to, I will destroy your ship."

A'Kare smiled evilly. "That is not wise, Captain. My cargo bays are filled with passengers from the Lia IV colony. If you damage my ship, something might happen to them. And neither of us would want that to happen."

Sutherland eyed Bareeth for confirmation. Slowly, regretfully he nodded.

"Now, it is I who will destroy your craft, and once that is done, the weapon on the surface below will be mine, and you will have lost by default, Captain" he taunted.

Sutherland smiled his own wicked smile. "If you destroy us, it is you who will lose, A'Kare," the captain said with satisfaction. "Only a portion of the weapon remains below." He watched as the smug smile disappeared from the Cardassian's face.

Suddenly another alarm light flashed on Bareeth's console. "Sir, more ships!" he cried in panic, glancing at the captain, hope dying in his eyes. The chances at fighting off one warship were slim, but doing battle with a whole fleet of them was next to impossible.

The four Starfleet officers materialized, singed, sweating and burned onto the transporter pad in an unconscious heap.

"Bridge, I have all four!" Baden answered, sighing in relief.

Logan opened his eyes to find himself laying in his own Sickbay. He began to sit up, but was overcome with a feeling of nausea.

"Easy, Doctor," soothed the warm, male voice of Ensign Cawley. "You're severely dehydrated."

The doctor glanced around the medical facility, relieved to see three other full beds. "How is everyone?"

"You're all fine, Doctor. Just a little dried out," Cawley answered.

Across the room Brower had also woken up and was arguing with Varek and Commander West.

"You are not well enough to leave Sickbay, Commander," Varek calmly pointed out. "It is not logical for you to wish to leave before you have fully recovered."

"But I am going to the bridge," Brower insisted.

"Commander, please," West appealed quietly, "everything is under control. Remain here until the medical staff says you can go. I can handle things on the bridge until you return."

Brower ceased his fussing and struggling. "I know you can, Lucas. It isn't that. It's just..." he paused, overwhelmed by all they had learned on the surface, sighing aloud. "We're up against something more terrifying than you know. I believe the Cardassians have stolen the components for a Metagenic weapon."

A look of horror flashed across Lucas' face. "Where did they get their scaly hands on those?"

Brower hesitated. "That's not important. What is important is that we find that ship."

Rataan limped out of his own bed, weak and slightly disoriented. But the effects went away as he stood. "I believe we can track them by following the radiation trail from their warp misalignment," Kale said evenly, hoping to remove the stain the last few days had placed on his abilities. "Just give me a chance, Commander."

Brower looked into the young officer's pleading eyes. "Very well." He turned toward Varek. "We'll all be going to the bridge now."

A'Kare had noticed the onslaught of ships entering the Hakarian System as well. "Give up now, Captain, while you still have the chance."

A plasma charge flashed across the bow of the Cardassian ship and A'Kare cut transmission.

"Sir! I don't believe it!" Bareeth was shouting with relief as he watched the sensor scan of the approaching armada.

"Report, Ensign."

"It's the Tholians, sir. The real Tholians," he paused to clarify, punching up an imaging on the small viewscreen. Several dozen small assault craft were swooping in from the outer rim of the system. "It's an armada from the Tholian Assembly, not the renegades! They've sent troops!"

Worry and tension flooded through Sutherland. If hostilities escalated, as he knew they would, the Tholian armada may well engage the Cardassians. "Hail the flagship, Ensign. We've got to warn them about the hostages on board that ship."

Before he could do so, the Cardassian ship swung around and opened fire on the Tholians, crippling two of their first wave. Instantly the atmosphere over Hakaria erupted into a firestorm of energy weapons and explosions as the Cardassians began to systematically destroy the onslaught of Tholian ships swarming around it.

But the sheer numbers began to rival the strength of the Cardassian warship. Its speed and agility were slowly losing out to the Tholians overwhelming numbers. Even though scores of fighters were destroyed, there seemed to be more and more to take their place.

"The Cardassian ship is severely crippled, sir," Bareeth reported.

The viewscreen came to life. Gul A'Kare, looking significantly less satisfied than before, appeared. "Sutherland, if we are forced to, I will destroy my ship, and all the hostages with it. You would be advised to make a deal with us."

Sutherland lingered, torn between the hostages and making a deal with the Cardassian terrorist. "What do you have in mind," he said suspiciously. There was nothing more dangerous than a Cardassian with his back against the wall.

"I would be willing to make a trade. The hostages I have on board plus the hostages I have hidden on the surface for safe passage away from here," A'Kare explained.

"As a show of good will, I will release five of the hostages to you now. Move your ship within transporter range."

In order for him to do that, Sutherland would have to maneuver the runabout between A'Kare's ship and the Tholians.

"If you're concerned about the crossfire, Captain," A'Kare hissed, "then call them off."

Sutherland motioned for Bareeth to cut audio. The ensign turned in his seat. "Don't trust him Captain. He's up to something."

"I'm detecting weapons fire," Rataan yelled. "It's the Cardassians! "And they appear to be firing on several smaller ships of Tholian design, and there is a Starfleet runabout in the fray as well."

"Tactical." Brower watched on the viewscreen as the large Cardassian warship took on the smaller armada of Tholian ships, but it was unclear exactly what the Starfleet runabout was doing. "Jansen, increase speed to warp nine-point-nine."

Rataan's eyes poured over the incoming sensor data, as his mind thirsted to pick up any information he could gain at such an extreme distance. "Sir, the runabout is a craft like I've never seen before. It's definitely of Starfleet design, but..." It seemed to be faster and more heavily armed as well. At Brower's request he placed the image on the viewscreen.

Andrew's forehead wrinkled in a puzzled stare. The design was curious. But it was still a Starfleet vessel, and it appeared to be in trouble. "Hail the runabout." There was no response.

Silently Andrew cursed under his breath. The Cardassians were having trouble against the immense number of smaller ships. "Are we within weapons range?"

"Not yet, sir," Kale answered. He glanced at his screen. Even at this high warp speed they were still several minutes away. And coming in so fast they ran the risk of blowing right past their intended stopping point. "We'll be able to drop out of warp in three minutes, eleven seconds."

Brower glanced at the viewscreen. The tactical display confused him. It now appeared as though the Cardassian warship had stopped firing on the Tholian ships and the runabout was maneuvering between the Tholians and the warship. "Rutledge, hail the runabout again."

He shook his head. There was still no response. "Intense weapons fire in the area is preventing our transmissions from being received."

Brower cursed again. "Rataan, prepare a full spread of quantum torpedoes. Target the Cardassian ship and prepare to launch the instant we're out of warp!. Rutledge, keep a sharp eye on those Tholian ships."

"I agree that we shouldn't trust Gul A'Kare, Delane, but we have to get those hostages back. And negotiating is the best way I can see to accomplish that." He motioned for audio to be restored. "Very well, A'Kare. We accept your offer. But you will have to release all of the hostages before I will allow you to leave this system."

"First, get them to stop firing on my ship," the Cardassian yelled as another salvo rocked his ship, nearly cutting the transmission. "Then we'll talk about how the release will be made." The transmission went dark.

"Move us in close to the Cardassian ship, Mr. Bareeth," he ordered.

"But, sir, the Tholians are still engaged. They won't even answer our hails," the ensign objected.

He put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "They know who we are. We just have to hope that they'll be reluctant to drag the Federation into this by catching us in the crossfire. Move us in."

As the runabout moved in, it hung like an insect against the massive size of the Cardassian warship. Bareeth's expert piloting had thus far kept them from being struck by any stray shots from the Tholians.

An indicator flashed on Bareeth's console. "General Durran of the Tholian Assembly is hailing us, Captain."

"On screen."

"What are you doing, Captain?" the angry Tholian general demanded. "You are interfering in matters of the Tholian Assembly. Once we have conquered this invader, we will deal with the renegades below. Now stand down or we will be forced to fire on your ship."

Sutherland knew he would have to be extremely persuasive to convince this man that he would no longer be able to destroy the Cardassian ship. "General," he returned, "there are over two thousand innocent Federation citizens being held on that ship. I cannot allow you to take victory at the cost of their lives. I have worked a deal which will insure the safety of those hostages while giving Gul A'Kare safe passage out of your system."

"No!" the general said stubbornly.

"You lose nothing by letting him go. You came expecting to find the renegade on the planet below, you still have them. But you will gain the rescue of several thousand Federation citizens, and the deep gratitude of the Federation itself." Sutherland waited, hoping to see the alien's position soften. When it came it was almost unexpected.

"All right, Captain, but we will not allow the Cardassians to leave until the hostages' return is guaranteed."

"Agreed." Sutherland gave a relieved sigh as the transmission was cut.

On the tactical display he could see the Tholian ships ceasing their attack, moving the armada into a barricade position. Soon an audio message came in from the Cardassians.

"Federation runabout, prepare to receive five hostages," the alien voice instructed.

Sutherland could hardly believe it was going to be simple. But he was going to accept this at face value, as he had no other alternative. "Drop shields."

"Sir!" exclaimed Bareeth suddenly, "The Avenger is approaching at high warp!" He was relieved. He never thought he was going to see the Avenger again.

"Hail them," the captain ordered, and instruct them not to interfere."

But it was too late. The Cardassians were powering up weapons again. The crew on the Avenger would recognize the readings and respond with force, believing they were flying into an ongoing battle.

Suddenly behind him, Sutherland heard an unfamiliar sound. He spun quickly, hearing A'Kare's voice suddenly echo inside the cabin. "Change in plans, Sutherland." He stood with a disruptor pointed at the captain's chest. He and his small crew had beamed to the runabout in the confusion. "I'll be taking your little ship and leaving this lovely party now."

"It won't work A'Kare. They'll realize you're not aboard your ship soon enough." Sutherland's mind raced to think of a plan of escape.

"I won't need but a few minutes." A'Kare signaled for a second man to move Sutherland, the doctor, and Bareeth out of the control area. Bareeth put up a brief struggle, but the Cardassian guard slammed him in the back of the neck with his rifle, leaving him unconscious on the cabin floor.

Murphy struggled to get free, trying to help the fallen Bareeth, but the Cardassian held her firmly.

"Beam them aboard our ship," A'Kare instructed his lieutenant, ripping off their comm badges as the two humans were led past. "I do hope for your sake that your crew on the Avenger isn't too zealous, Captain. You'll have no way to contact them and inform them of our little switch, we made sure of that."

Their guard prodded them in the back, forcing them to move before the captain could reply. Seconds later, Sutherland and Murphy found themselves standing on the bridge of the desolate Cardassian warship, soon to be joined by the rest of the drugged colonists from the runabout, except the governor.

"Where's Baldwin!" Sutherland demanded as the bridge shook under weapons fire. The runabout was firing on them.

Dr. Murphy rushed to the forward control console. She was doing her best with the foreign Cardassian equipment. She would have felt out of place on Avenger's bridge, let alone a Cardassian warship.

"Captain, the runabout is moving off, and the Avenger is still closing. Her weapons systems are fully active," she informed with alarm.

Sutherland turned toward the viewscreen. "Hail them, Doctor!"

But it was too late, Avenger had dropped out of warp. The Cardassian ship spun wildly under the attack of the Starfleet vessel. Around the bridge monitors and workstations erupted into flames.

"Shields are down!" Amanda tried furiously to get the comm lines open, but she couldn't. The subspace transmitting antenna had been sabotaged "They're coming around for another pass, Captain!"

Sutherland stared at the ship on the viewscreen. His ship. About to blow them out of the sky. "Power down the weapons!" he shouted, sprinting for the aft console. It was their only hope of convincing Avenger they were no longer a threat. He just prayed that Brower was in a merciful mood.

"Sir, the Cardassian ship is powering down its weapons," Rataan apprised. "They appear to be standing down."

Brower curiously eyed the warship on the main viewscreen. Could these same Cardassians who fought so furiously at Lia IV be giving up without firing a single shot at the Avenger? "It could be a trick," he warned.

"Commander," Rutledge urgently interrupted, "I am detecting no Cardassian life signs aboard the warship. In fact, the life signs are all human. All two-thousand, five-hundred and twenty-one of them."

Surprise washed across Brower's face. It was the hostages, it had to be. But who else was on that ship? "Hail them again, Commander."

Rutledge opened a channel, but got no response. "Negative," he apprised. "I believe they can hear us, but cannot send a response. Their transmitting antenna seems to be damaged."

Bareeth opened his eyes slowly. His head was pounding and he felt the warm trickle of blood on the back of his neck. He glanced around the cabin of the runabout. The Cardassians were in control! One of them had situated himself in the pilot's seat, while another was at the auxiliary control station.

Suddenly he blinked in surprised terror to find Baldwin sitting in the co-pilot's seat, giving the Cardassians instructions on how to fly the runabout and how to use the cloak! He couldn't believe that the governor had sold them out again! Slowly he reached up to the nearby console and waited for just the right moment to drop the runabout's shields. The instant he did so he tapped his comm badge. "Bareeth to Avenger, one for emergency beam-out!"

It was the last thing he did before he felt the tingling sensation of the transporter, just as Baldwin turned and leveled a phaser at him. Suddenly there was a tearing pain in his chest...

The transporter chief had called the bridge. "Drop shields and transport him directly to the bridge," Brower had said, hoping Bareeth would have the information he needed about what was going on here.

Instantly the shimmering form of Ensign Bareeth began to materialize on the Avenger bridge. But before the transport was half complete, Brower could tell something was wrong. The young ensign had been struck by a phaser, or disruptor, apparently set to kill.

Instantly Dr. Logan grabbed the emergency medical kit from the storage bay near the tactical station and ran to assist the fallen security officer. He was badly injured, and Logan initiated an emergency transport to Sickbay.

Suddenly chaos erupted on the bridge. The forward navigational station erupted in a shower of sparks and flames and the bridge shook wildly as the ship came under attack.

"Report!" Brower shouted. He was certain the Cardassian ship had opened fire, or one of the Tholian vessels.

Rataan was struggling to remain standing against the pummeling the ship was taking. "We're being fired upon by the... by the runabout!" Surprise echoed in his young voice.

But there wasn't time for Brower to be surprised. "Return fire! Shields to maximum."

"Negative!" Rataan yelled over the roar. "Shields generators are off-line!"

Brower turned to order an evasive maneuver, noticing Jansen unconscious and bleeding on the floor near the navigation console. He ran forward, pulling the lieutenant clear and jumping into Jansen's seat.

Instantly Brower swung the ship on a wide arc away from the incoming phaser and photon blasts from the runabout.

Rataan targeted the runabout and fired. Two phaser beams leapt out from the Avenger and struck the speeding craft, seeming to have no significant effect. This runabout appeared to have shielding far superior to even Avenger's. And it was moving far too fast to lock on a tractor beam. Nearly helpless, Kale watched as the mysterious craft disappeared into warp space.

Nearly simultaneously a humming sound filled the bridge as a bright orange light signaled that someone was beaming onto the bridge.

Kale leapt from the tactical console, grabbing a phaser and rushing toward the position of the intruder, only to realize just before firing that it was Captain Sutherland who had appeared on the bridge.

For a brief moment everyone on the bridge remained motionless, stunned to see their commanding officer alive.

Andrew stood from the navigational console. "Captain..." Brower said with his mouth feeling as though it were hanging open, "it's good to see you are all right, sir." But the business at hand could not be ignored. "We were about to engage pursuit of that runabout..."

"Let them go," Sutherland told him. The bio-weaponry in the runabout's cargo bay was worthless without the other components. And Starfleet would have to clean up its own mess where the runabout was concerned. As far as he knew, the runabout didn't even exist. "We have more important things to take care of, such as the Lia IV hostages."

"And the Metagenic device?" Brower asked. It was as important as the hostages. Probably more so. If those weapons got into the wrong hands... it could well spell disaster for untold millions.

"Most of the components are safely waiting to be taken into our custody," Sutherland informed, "the Tholian Assembly was good enough to lend us a hand. And Dr. Murphy has several thousand of the hostages in her care aboard the Lih'Dal."

Brower turned, giving the captain a curious look. He was having trouble keeping up with all of this, but it seemed as though everything was under control. "Where are the rest of the hostages?"

"On the planet's surface," Sutherland explained. "Apparently our Cardassian friend, Gul A'Kare, intended to plant them there, making it look as if the Tholian renegades really had taken the hostages. What A'Kare didn't count on was the interference of the Tholian Assembly."

"Or the Avenger," Rutledge added.

Kale was watching the sensors, and became suddenly alarmed. "Captain, there is another ship entering the system. It has a Starfleet warp signature."

All eyes on the bridge turned to Rataan. "Is it the runabout," Brower asked.

"Checking," he scanned, finding the ship to be an Ambassador Class cruiser. Then the registry popped up. "No, it's the USS Renegade." No sooner had Kale been able to identify the ship than they sent a message. "They're hailing us, Captain."

The incoming message popped on the screen and Sutherland stepped forward. "Renegade this is Sutherland. What can we do for you?" He watched Captain Reynolds' face twist in what appeared to be anger.

"Avenger, you are in violation of orders. Retreat to Federation space and await further instructions. From this point forward the Renegade will take jurisdiction over this matter."

Ire built on Sutherland's features and his cheeks flushed red. "Just who in the hell--"

Subtly Brower stood from the Con and whispered to the captain. "He's right, Captain. Starfleet placed the Renegade in charge of this mission just after your disappearance. We are in violation of orders."

Suddenly Sutherland's face went white. He looked into Brower's stare. "Avenger violated orders to mount a rescue?" He was astonished.

"Yes, Captain," Brower answered quietly, "but I suggest we conclude this conversation at a later time," he said, not wanting the other crewmembers to know what he had done until the heat of the moment had passed.

The captain's attention flickered back to the viewscreen. "Of course, Captain Reynolds. We'll be leaving as soon as we retrieve our medical officer." He called to the transporter room, making certain she had been beamed aboard.

Reynolds still seemed annoyed. "Captain Sutherland, as the jurisdictional officer in this matter, and on behalf of Starfleet Command, I order you and your crew to keep the details of this incident completely confidential. This matter is hereby CLASSIFIED. You will file a full, confidential incident report. Thereafter anything you or your crew have seen or heard on this mission never took place." He leaned forward in his command chair, lowering his voice. "For your sake, Captain, I hope Starfleet takes it easy on you. Renegade out.

The tension on the bridge hung thick in the air. As the viewer winked out, Sutherland made his way back to his seat in the command chair. "Set a course for Federation space," he ordered quietly.

As Jansen had since been taken to Sickbay, and his replacement had yet to arrive, Brower remained at the Con. He input the course and the Avenger sped off, leaving the hostages, the Tholians, the top secret Metagenic components, the Cardassians, and the Renegade behind.

Brower waited patiently for the captain to admit him. As the doors slid apart he entered the dimly lit ready room. Sutherland was seated behind his desk, sitting quietly in the dark. "Captain?"

Sutherland swiveled in his chair, facing the first officer. "Yes, Commander Brower. Please, sit."

Nervously he did so. But even though the captain had turned his chair, Andrew still could not see his face. "Dr. Logan informs me that Ensign Bareeth will be just fine with a few days under his care," he began.

There was no acknowledgment, so he continued. "We'll arrive in Federation space in another fifty minutes, sir. Commander West informs me that field repairs to all damaged systems will be completed within a day. Of course, we'll still have to layover at a starbase for--"

"The senior officers have been telling me how admirably you performed in this crisis," Sutherland interrupted.

Andrew was quiet. If anything, that surprised him. He didn't know what to say.

"I understand that you had to step lively on a number of occasions to keep the ship in once piece."

He was silent for a moment longer. "I did my best, sir."

"According to Commander West, you did more than your best. He hasn't said this many nice things about an officer since... well, since ever. And Commander Rutledge has spoken highly of you as well. As have Rataan and Logan. You seem to have made quite an impact on my officers."

Brower hadn't gotten any sentiments of the sort from anyone except Logan. In fact, he was thoroughly prepared to have them drum him off the ship once this was all over. He was astounded.

"You saved my life, Commander, and for that I am grateful," Sutherland said in his most serious tone.

"It was my duty to--"

"It was more than duty, Andrew," Sutherland interrupted again. "If I understand correctly, you violated a direct order to mount a rescue. You risked the ship and company to save three people. Is that right?" he said, his voice tinged with irritation.

It was easy to surmise that the captain had been speaking to the doctor. Andrew resisted the urge to shrink in his seat from the lecture. "I will take responsibility for what I have done, sir. But I will not apologize for it."

The captain was silent for several moments.

Brower sat patiently. His apprehension about this moment had been building for several days. Finally he had reached a point that he would not allow himself to go beyond. Whatever was going to happen would happen.

"I've been thinking about the last several days, Commander," the captain said, his mood totally different, lighter and serene. "And it occurs to me that I have never properly welcomed you on board."

Again Andrew was caught off guard, and he wondered if he would ever get used to that in the captain.

"We need to celebrate. How about tonight, nineteen hundred hours, in the captain's private dining room?"

Brower nervously walked the corridor of deck two. He put an index finger in his collar and gave it a tug, wondering what kind of devious mind had designed Starfleet's dress uniform. He didn't think it was particularly attractive and it certainly had not been made for the comfort of its wearer. In fact, it did nothing but add to his discomfort.

As he stepped up to the door which would admit him to the captain's private dining room, he took a deep breath and activated the door tone. Seconds later the door slid open and he stepped inside.

Andrew was stunned to see all the ship's senior staff gathered as he walked into the room. He was under the impression he would be dining alone with the captain.

Immediately all of the officers rose to their feet, turning somber eyes on Brower. The room was still.

Andrew froze, not knowing how to proceed. Dr. Logan hurried over to greet him, handing him a flute glass filled with a clear, bubbly concoction, which he surmised was Champagne.

On the captain's cue, the other officers raised their glasses in his direction.

"To Commander Brower," Sutherland's voice boomed from the head of the table, "Avenger's new first officer. Welcome aboard."

Everyone except Andrew, who remained immobilized, sipped from their glasses. Then they all looked expectantly at him, smiles filling their faces. When he realized they expected him to speak, he tried to find words that would express the elation he felt at this very emotional moment. "Thank you," he said upon reflection. But that was all he could manage.

For the next few moments, silence filled the room, punctuated by the occasional gentle clink of glasses coming to rest on the smooth table top.

The captain finally broke the silence. "Come, join us, Commander. I'm told Mr. Goldford has outdone himself on this evening's meal," Sutherland called out, gesturing to an empty seat at his side.

Andrew began making his way around the table to his seat by the captain, and as he passed his fellow officers they clapped him on the back and shook his hand.

When Lucas stepped out to greet Andrew, he looked Brower straight in the eye and shook his hand. Although no words were exchanged, he managed to express himself quite clearly. It had taken Andrew's tenacity to prove wrong some of his suppositions, but he had finally accepted Brower as his first officer and fellow crewman.

As Brower took his seat, he glanced around the table, realizing that his acceptance by the senior staff was nearly unanimous. It warmed him to feel accepted, and he wondered if he valued their approval more because it wasn't freely given to him, but had instead been earned.

Once Andrew had seated himself, the captain summoned the galley attendant and soon the meal was served. They began with a thick Bajoran soup called "Mutzal" which was a favorite of the captain. Next came a garden salad with Russian dressing, and then the entree arrived, Porterhouse steak.

Brower leaned forward to lock eyes with Chris Logan, seated on the opposite side of the captain, and smiled his gratitude. He had once mentioned his passion for a good cut of beef to Chris and he now surmised that the doctor must have been the one who suggested this addition to the menu.

Chief Science Officer Lanei, seated to Brower's right, at first sat quietly watching the proceedings with large brown eyes. But as the meal progressed she seemed to grow more comfortable in Andrew's company and soon they began chatting amiably about their previous experiences on various worlds in the Federation.

As their conversation progressed, some of the discomfort Andrew had previously felt around her began to slip away. At one point, he had completely forgotten about her being a Deltan, and that, in itself, amazed him.

Captain Sutherland took the opportunity while Brower was chatting with Lanei to lean towards the doctor. "I must admit, Doctor, I was wrong about our XO," he began in quiet tones.

"Really, sir?" Logan asked innocently, as he continued to delicately cut his steak.

"Don't act as though you haven't a clue as to what I'm talking about, Doctor," Sutherland huffed. "You know very well about my suspicions regarding the commander," he said, referring to his thoughts that Brower had been planted aboard his ship by Starfleet Command. "I see now that couldn't have been further from the truth."

Chris looked up at the captain and smiled. "I gather from your selection of Champagne that you had changed your mind," he grinned slyly, noting that Sutherland had dipped into his stock of the genuine stuff. It was a rare vintage, and it had not been replicated.

Sutherland returned the grin, a small inside joke shared between the doctor and himself.

"But I wasn't exactly sure about him myself, Captain," Logan offered seriously, suddenly realizing that he could not pinpoint an exact time that his thoughts on Brower had changed. It had been a gradual process, an on-going process. "I'm glad this whole thing has been cleared up."

Sutherland frowned, hoping that Logan was right. It wasn't that he questioned Brower's loyalty to captain and crew. But he hoped this entire situation would not come back to haunt his new first officer. Just as he let that dark thought drop, a comm tone chimed, interrupting the meal.

"Captain, I am sorry to bother you," said the voice of Lieutenant Ford, "but we're receiving a Priority One message from Starfleet command."

Slowly the senior staff filed out of the turbolift onto the main bridge. They all appeared over-dressed for a duty rotation, and they couldn't help but draw attention from the crewmembers tending the aft stations.

"Put the communication through, Mr. Ford," the captain said as he slipped into the command chair.

Admiral Forestall's image appeared on the viewer. He wore a smile, though it appeared thin and empty. "Captain, I am glad to see that you are well."

"Thank you, Admiral," Sutherland said getting to his feet. "Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

The admiral looked to Sutherland's left where Brower was seated and back. "Yes, Captain. I would like to speak with you privately if I may."

Sutherland nodded and started for his ready room.

"And Commander Brower as well, if you please," Forestall added.

The captain looked at his first officer and they exchanged subtle glances.

Soon Sutherland and Brower were seated in the captain's private office facing a small desktop viewer. "We're on a secure channel now, Admiral," Sutherland informed.

"Captain, what I am about to say is of the utmost importance, and is a matter that Starfleet Command is taking very seriously," Forestall said, his voice ominously serious. "The Avenger is hereby ordered to return immediately to the planet Earth where Commander Andrew C. Brower will be taken into custody by Starfleet Security and will await a general court martial."

The words hung in the air, thick with tension. This came as no surprise to Brower. If there were a surprise, it was that it had taken this long for the other shoe to drop. But after all the angst he had endured the last several days, he was in some way glad that it had finally happened.

"Place the commander under arrest and confine him for the duration of your trip, Captain," Forestall continued.

"Admiral Forestall, if I could just speak with you about this matter I--"

Sutherland's attempt at explanation was cut short with a wave of the admiral's hand. "The Avenger has its orders, and I advise that you carry them out, Captain," warned Forestall nodding to an aid just out of view. "Starfleet out."

TO BE CONTINUED...

This page, contents, and design © copyright J Arnold, 1998. Star Trek® and Voyager® Paramount Pictures Corp. 07/11/98 12:25 PM