DEN'A, THE KHYNAH HOMEWORLD 49801.03

The first thing to hit you was the smell. Sweat, blood, fear...death. Captain Peter MacLaughlin was ushered along with what remained of his crew, into an already overly crowded room full of others who had been taken against their will by the Khynah.

The room was one kilometer beneath the Khynah homeworld and offered little comfort. The only concession the Khynahs made to the humanoids were two long water troughs and latrines on each side of the rectangular, low celinged room.

Many of those in this holding cell were sick or dying...some already dead. The Khynah had not even bothered to remove the dead which had been pushed to the sides by the remaining prisoners.

There were no children here as the Khynah had no use for most children, except for the very young which they could raise as their own--with their own evil values. The others were simply killed.

There were women here, however. Women had their uses in the Khynah world. Some--the strongest were sent along with the men to work on off world planets which they had conquered. Some, a few were kept by the higher ranking Khynah officers as... companions. These were the truly unlucky ones.

Peter MacLaughlin found a spot on the floor and sat with his back pressed against a cold wall and reflected about how he came to be in this god forsaken hellhole.

It happened around 0200 when he was sound asleep in his cabin. The Bolian freighter, manned by the Khynah, had taken his ship by surprise and managed to get off two shots before his crew responded. These shots took out his ship's shields and disabled their weapons. The Khynah had known exactly where to hit to disable his ship--probably from torturing other Starfleet officers they captured. Before he could make it to the Bridge, they had boarded his ship, killing, wounding and herding others into the cargo bays. He was one of those herded. He was still in his pajamas as he sat on the hard, cold floor, reflecting.

He slowly surveyed the room, looking at the poor unfortunate souls such as himself who were also here. There were men and woman of all species, though mostly Terrans, like himself. A few Bolians. He wondered if that was their ship the Khynah had used to take his out. Some Bajorans, a couple of Klingons even. Wonder how they got here? Funny, there were no Starfleet uniforms to be seen. Those brought in with him were those not wearing their uniforms. Wonder why?

There was not much talking as all seemed to be depressed or maybe they were warned to keep quiet. Either way, it was understandable. How will I get out of this one? How can I get my people away from here? Will I ever see Kate or Cam or the rest of my family again? All these thoughts and more raced around Peter's mind. He shook his head. I will never leave this place alive...I can feel it. My life ended when that first shot hit my ship.

CAPTAIN'S LOG STARDATE 49803.18 1735 hours

"We have been ordered directly to Communications Relay Station #249 which has fallen silent for the past 12 hours. It will take us approximately 6 days to reach the station, which is close to the Romulan border. This relay station has a crew compliment of four--two communications officers, one engineer and one security officer. This could possibly be a simple malfunction or something more serious such as a Khynah attack. I sincerely hope it is the former, although my experiences as a Captain tells me it is the latter. End Log

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

Space the final frontier. How many times had those words echoed in the halls of Starfleet and in the minds of those who served?

Space. Final frontier?

Cmdr. Cam MacLaughin allowed her thoughts to meander as she studied the output on the sensor board of Science Station 1. She had been ordered to test the new sensors and had sent out a small target buoy in a nebula in order to determine the efficiency of the Alliance's scanners.

She glanced up from the light blue traces that danced on the main sensor screen, giving her a representation of the sign wave of the sensors output. She watched the peaks and valleys shift in response to the accumulation of fluctuations. It seemed that under these test conditions, scanning a known nebula, the array was functioning as it was designed.

She sighed softly with a gentle uplifting of her chest and thanked her lucky stars that Starfleet had returned to the design of the science station as a sitdown post. She had always been distinctly uncomfortable with her back to the helm on the Endeavour. This new ship, the Alliance was different, as was her own position. Now she liked being able to survey the bridge and watch peoples reactions, because, at times it was her responsibility to know what was what. She was a commander now, and stood watch over the ship.

She glanced at the back of Marcus Forrester's head. He was talking to Rebecca Sinclair. Hopefully, someday she could command as easily as he. Her attempts now were somewhat forced and uncomfortable. Thankfully the personnel of Gamma shift were used to the 'suckers' getting their shift, and were flexible. They also didn't make her feel needlessly nervous, they performed with tuned efficiency.

"Steady as she goes Mr. Matshushita. Any word yet regarding the status of relay station 249, Mr. Sanchez?"

"None so far sir," Lt. Cmdr. Jesse Sanchez replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot at the tactical station ,his nearly two meter frame making the board look small.

Cam sighed again and watched the dance of the sensors a bit more. Ah, nebula, she thought. A tangle of gasses glowing with light, reflecting , absorbing, emitting. All a dance of light and charged particles, but none the less one of the most beautiful works of art in the universe. Simple yet complex and ever changing.

The signwave suddenly dropped off and she marveled at the distance she was able to carry on the scan and how reliably the sensors were able to get a return. They had finally moved far enough from their target, and it gave her a feel for how she could push this new array. The farther out they could detect, the better. It could give them an edge on the Khynah. Better to know how far and how well they could push before they engaged them again. Time was of the essence as it is in so many situations. Time meant lives. It meant the difference between life and death.

The Alliance kept thundering on towards her call. Scattered reports and speculation pointed to another outbreak of Khynah activity. But in the neutral Zone? Cam wondered, because this sounded odd. But that's why they were steaming towards the situation. Find out what and why. If this bothered her then surely it was biting at Sanchez like fleas.

Jesse had a suspicious nature despite his easy going attitude. Like her he had also received a promotion. He was now in charge of Security. His suspicions were now relayed directly to the captain's ear. A position that also made him uncomfortably aware of the tense atmosphere on the bridge.

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CAPTAIN FORRESTER'S QUARTERS 49803.19, 0230 HOURS

"With all due respect, Admiral Banks, I can't see this happening in less than three to five weeks--much less one!"

Admiral Thomas Banks had called Captain Marcus Forrester on a secure channel just as he was getting ready for bed. Forrester was familiar with these late night calls from Admirals, which always involved something critical and usually dangerous. Tonight was no exception.

Starfleet wanted Forrester to disguise one of his crew as the Khynah they had captured last year and send him to Den'a, the Khynah homeworld in order to ascertain the destination of the prisoners being transferred.

The Khynah controlled many small worlds inside their territory and had recently captured several more outside their space. There was no way Starfleet could investigate each and every planet to know where they would be taken. This was the best and only plan Starfleet had at the moment for getting them returned.

"Unfortunately Captain, we don't have 3-5 weeks. Our intelligence has indicated that the prisoners on the Khynah homeworld will be moved within 10 days. We need to have our operative in place before that."

"I understand that Admiral, but you're asking me to send one of my crew into a very dangerous, possibly lethal situation with only one week's preparation which doesn't even include the actual physical operation and recovery." Forrester was frustrated, he knew the chances of this kind of mission being successful was slim and he didn't relish the idea of sending one of his crew to almost certain death.

"I know, I know, Marcus, but the Alliance is the only ship close enough with adequate facilities and personnel to get the job done. If we don't discover where these prisoners are being transferred, we may never be able to recover them. These are woman and children, Marcus, along with men. We simply have no choice in this matter."

Forrester sighed heavily, feeling the burden of his decision weighing on his shoulders. "Very well Admiral. I'll inform my staff tonight."

"Marcus, this is a highly confidential mission and should be kept on a strictly need to know basis. The less people who know about this the better--at least until it's over and maybe not even then if all does not go as planned."

"I see. So this agent will need to discover where the prisoners will be moved and when, correct?"

"Yes. Starfleet will take over from there. As soon as we receive the information, we will put part two of our rescue mission into effect."

"Which is?"

"Need to know, Marcus. Once we receive the information, your part in this mission will be completed."

"And once I retrieve my officer, you mean."

"Yes, of course," replied Banks, already writing off the agent as dead. He didn't think Forrester and his crew would be able to successfully retrieve the agent from Den'a--alive at least. "Any questions?"

"Are we still to investigate the Communications Relay Station?"

"Yes, absolutely. We have no other ships in that area and we need to know what's going on out there. Anything else?"

"No sir. But if I have any questions regarding this covert mission am I to contact only you?"

"That's correct. Just me. And Marcus..."

"Yes?"

"Good luck."

"Thank you Thomas. I have a feeling we will need all the luck we can get on this mission."

As Captain Forrester closed the comm link, he went to the replicator and ordered a large cup of coffee. This would be a long night.

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MCRANEY QUARTERS 0300 hours

Simon held the covers up as Mira slipped into bed beside him. It had been a long, long day and she was anxious to snuggle up close to him. As she pressed close, he pulled her near and kissed her. His day had been a long one too. As Mira lay still and warm beside the man she loved, she began to relax and quickly began to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

"Captain Forrester to Dr. Montgomery and Cmdr. McRaney," came the blaring voice from the comm badge on the bedside table.

Mira jumped with a start. "Oh, no," she whispered, as she turned over and grabbed her badge. "Montgomery here."

"Sorry to bother you so late, Doctor, but I require your and Mr. McRaney's presence in my cabin immediately. No need for a uniform."

"Aye, Captain," she answered sleepily.

"Forrester out."

"I wonder what could be so important for him to summon us at this hour?" asked Simon.

"Don't know, but it must be important. He's never done this before," said Mira.

Mira and Simon reluctantly got out of their warm, cozy bed and began dressing--Mira in a long pullover dark blue dress which she kept by the bed especially for unexpected occurrences such as this and Simon in his usual casual wear of jeans and long sleeved tee shirt.

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SANCHEZ QUARTERS 0303 hours

Jesse Sanchez was in a grey sweat suit, sitting at his terminal going over the combat training schedules for the crew, when the call from Captain Forrester came in for him to report to his cabin. Checking the time and extinguishing the stogie he had been smoking, he quickly made his way to the Captain's quarters, wondering what his new duties as Chief of Security had brought him this night.

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MAIN ENGINEERING 0305 HOURS

Lt. Cmdr. Maxine Taggert checked the subharmonic impulse capacitor on the control panel for the third time. "Everything's running too smoothly on this ship!" she grumbled to herself. Maxine had never been one to sit down and do nothing or have a leisurely meal with friends. It was work and family for her and now since her husband and twin boys had been transferred to Deep Space 13, her work was all she had left and that is why she was still in main engineering at 0305 hours when she should be in her quarters sleeping.

She checked her padd against the readings on the isomiatic control panel. "Ugh!" Perfect again!" she exclaimed to the surprised looks of the crewman manning those systems.

"Sir?" he asked puzzled. After all, wasn't perfection what the Commander wanted?

"Nothing, crewman, continue with your work."

"Yes, sir," he replied, giving his commanding officer a rather quizzical look.

"Captain Forrester to Lt. Cmdr. Taggert," came Maxine's comm badge.

"Taggert here, sir. Go ahead."

"Commander, please report to my quarters immediately."

"Yes, sir, right away."

"Forrester out."

At last! Something to do! thought Maxine. Must be something really important for the Captain to summon me at this hour, she thought as she quickly made her way to the Captain's quarters.

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CAPTAIN FORRESTER'S QUARTERS 0315 hours

Mira and Simon arrived first since they were just down the hallway from the Captain's quarters. "Ah Doctor, Commander, would you like anything to drink?" he asked.

"If this is going to be a long meeting, then yes," Mira replied, "Bajoran Mint Tea would be nice."

"Earth beer," responded Simon.

Captain Forrester walked over to his replicator and ordered up their drinks, while ordering another black coffee for himself. "Please have a seat, while we wait for Lt. Commanders Sanchez and Taggert to arrive."

Mira took a seat on his expansive sofa, taking the proffered cup of tea knowing that the Captain would not begin this meeting until the others arrived. It must be extremely important for the Chiefs of Science, Security, Medical and Engineering to be here, she thought as Simon took a seat beside her, thinking the same thing.

A few moments later, Jesse Sanchez came barrelling in as was his usual style. Not long after that Maxine Taggert arrived ready for business as usual. After everyone was settled, the Captain began informing them of his Starfleet orders to send an undercover operative to Den'a.

"What!?" exclaimed Mira, "What does Starfleet think they're doing! That would be sending someone to his death! with no more time to prepare than seven days!"

"Not necessarily," said a cool, calm Jesse, as his mind was already on the training his operative would need in order to complete the mission. "It can be done. I'm sure of it."

"That's what I want to hear, Mr. Sanchez," said the Captain. "Although this will be an extremely dangerous mission, I'll admit. But according to Starfleet, we have no choice. Those prisoners the Khynah have will be shipped out and we may never find them again. Many of those are Starfleet personnel."

Mira calmed down a bit as she thought about the obvious consequences of not going on this mission. "What does Starfleet want of the medical department?" she asked, already suspecting the answer.

"They want you to make this operative look as much as possible as the Khynah we captured last year." "But that would take days to complete! Not to mention the healing time required for such an extensive operation!"

"We don't expect him to be completely altered, Doctor, just the face, neck , hands and possibly shoulders--enough to pass cursory inspection. If all goes well, he won't be under cover long enough for anyone to get a really detailed look at him. That is where Commander McRaney comes in." Forrester turned to Simon. "You will need to create a realistic skin for this operative. Something that can pass an inspection if necessary."

"How long would this operative have to wear this skin," asked Simon.

"We don't know, but hopefully no more than a few days. Will that be a problem?"

"Well, the longer a person has to wear this skin, the more difficult it will be to create. If only for a day or two, I see no problems, but any longer than that..."

"All we can do Mr. McRaney is our best," replied the Captain.

"Yes, sir. I think we can manage quite well."

"Sir," began Sanchez, " along with the physical transformation and combat training, he would need to learn the Khynah language, mannerisms and enough about how their military works in order to be able to pass inspection. This is awfully daunting, sir, even for someone as skilled as I am," he said with no hint of ego.

"I know, Jesse, but we simply have to pull this off. There is no other choice. Do you have anyone in mind who can handle this task?"

"Yes sir...me," he responded. "I can do it and I am approximately the same physical build as that Khynah. I know I can do it!"

Forrester smiled as he had been expecting this. "I have no doubt you could perform this task expertly, Jesse, but I need my chief of security here on the Alliance in these dangerous times. I can't afford to lose you. And if by chance something did go wrong and you were caught, well, I don't need to tell you how valuable a Starfleet Security Chief would be worth to them. No, I simply can't afford to spare you. You must choose someone else."

Mira sighed a silent sigh of relief. She didn't want to have to explain to Kate where Jesse was and that he might never come back had he been chosen to head this mission. She knew that Kate had come to depend on Jesse's strength since the disappearance of her husband, Peter. Not to mention what Cam would have felt! Even though those two were no longer dating, so to speak, she knew that Cam still harbored strong feelings for the big Aussie.

"Do you have anyone else in mind?" asked Forrester.

"The person I feel best fits the description of the operative we want is a crewman from weapons maintenance," Jesse began.

"A crewman?" Forrester asked with a note of surprise.

"Sergi Yostrinkov. This guy should have gone to the academy but because of some circumstances couldn't. He's single, no family and he fought on the science station. He knows what the Khynah are capable of."

"Then he would be going into this with his eyes open," said the Captain.

"Yes sir. He's a good solid member of Security. I like him. Plus he's got an attribute, a talent that I feel might be beneficial for an operative--a photographic memory. He's also a gifted linguist and should be able to pick up the Khynah language in record time."

"How does he fit the physical profile?" asked Forrester.

"He's a big guy. I've seen him in action. He shoots well and is swift with his hand to hand combat," Jesse said softly.

"I see. Do you have any other candidates?"

"Yes sir, one other."

"I do not believe in ordering a man to his most probable death, Jesse. He should be free to choose his fate. Go ahead and ask Yostrikov if he will volunteer for this mission first. If not, ask your other choice. Then contact Dr. Montgomery so that we may begin these operations and training as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," said Jesse, deep in thought. He knew that Sergi would not turn this mission down and so there would be no need to even consider his other candidate.

"Remember, time is of the essence Mr. Sanchez." Turning to Mira, Forrester asked, " Doctor, how long do you think the operation and healing time will take?"

Mira thought for a few seconds, running over all the possible things that would need to be accomplished in transforming a human being into a Khynah. "It's hard to say, Captain. I've never done this type of operation before--not to this extent that is. The operation itself would probably take at least 12 hours, maybe a little longer, while the healing time would depend on the patient--somewhere between one and two days--optimally."

"The operative needs to be in place on Den'a in seven days. The Khynah may move them out early and we can't take the chance of losing our one opportunity to discover their destination."

"That doesn't give us much time for what needs to be done," said Mira.

"I realize that, but that's all the time we have."

Maxine had been very quiet, sitting on the edge of her chair wondering what she was doing here and what the Captain had in mind for her and her team."

"Now, Commander Taggert, you will need to build a mock up of one of our shuttlecrafts which will explode and disintegrate just after our 'Khynah' makes his way to Den'a. Can you do it?"

Maxine was running diagrams through her mind along with all the technical support she would need in order to accomplish this task in so short a time. "Sir, I don't think it's possible to build such a craft which would leave the necessary amount of debris should the Khynah's make a scan--and I'm sure they will."

"Do your best Commander," suggested Forrester.

"I'll get my team on the problem right away sir and see what we can come up with," replied Maxine.

"Commander, you will need to do this in total secrecy. Use a shuttlebay as your work space and only those crew members you absolutely need."

"Understood, sir."

"Who will teach our man the Khynah language, mannerisms and phrases?" asked Jesse. "Do we have a Khynah expert on board?"

"Unfortunately our Khynah expert, Commander Remington is on Earth coordinating efforts with other planets Jesse, but the computer has all the information we'll need. Your man will need to spend time in the holodeck practicing with the computer. You will assist. "We'll have someone in engineering program the holodeck with the required programs. Need I remind you that this is highly confidential and only those who need to know will be informed as to this mission. Doctor, how many people will you need to perform your operations?"

"To be completed as quickly as possible, I will need a minimum of three assistants. I can possibly make do with two if need be," replied Mira.

"Make it two then," said Forrester. "Jesse, will you need anyone assisting you in the training of this operative?"

"No sir.

"Good. Then we need to begin as soon as possible. I would suggest that you take the rest of the night to go over what needs to be done, and be ready to begin tomorrow morning."

"Captain, do you mean for the first set of operations to take place at that time?" asked Mira, not sure she would have everything in place that soon especially since she would need to stay up the rest of the night in preparation.

"No. The operations can begin tomorrow night. I want Mr. Sanchez to choose his man and make sure he is the correct choice before then. We can afford no mistakes. As soon as you make your choice, Jesse, notify Dr. Montgomery. The operations should begin no later than 1800 hours tomorrow night."

"I'll have my man prepared by then," assured Jesse.

"Medbay will be ready and waiting," said Montgomery, though she still didn't feel good about all this.

"My team will be ready as well Captain," said Maxine.

"Good. If there are no more questions then I suggest we get to work. One more thing. As soon as this agent begins his operations, he is to be transported to the holodeck, his quarters and back to medbay site to site only. I don't want anyone getting a look him. I hate making you work through the night, but this is what we get paid for isn't it?" Captain Forrester said with a smile.

Mira and Jesse nodded, both thinking about the thousand details which would need to be accomplished in so little time. Simon began getting up and Maxine was already at the door ready to go to work.

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

When Mira got back to her quarters she began calling up all the medical files on the Khynah they had captured. She would need detailed graphics of his body structure, skin, eyes everything that another Khynah would notice about the operative. Also, she needed to know who to call in to assist her. Pulling up the personal records of her staff she discovered that along with her head nurse, Kate MacLaughlin, Dr. Soyinya Valori, the Haliian would be the most logical as she specialized in reconstructive surgery. Should she wake them up now, or let them wait until tomorrow to go over the plans? All of us will need to be awake and alert for this operation, she knew, but they needed all the time they could get in order to accomplish these operations.

She decided it would be best to have both of them in medbay now to begin going over the plans. "Dr. Montgomery to Lt. Kate MacLaughlin," she began.

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Maxine walked quickly back to her office in Main Engineering. She had already begun to decide who she would need for this project and some of the problems she would encounter. After sitting at her desk she called for the computer. "Computer, which shuttlebay is the least occupied?"

"Shuttlebay two has 87% available space."

"What amount of floor space is currently available?"

"47%", answered the computer.

"I'll have to see for myself if that bay will work," said Maxine as she jumped from her chair and headed to shuttlebay 2, unable to sit still for very long.

When she arrived, she discovered that two runabouts stored there would need to be moved in order to provide enough work space. Tapping instructions into her padd she made her way back to Main Engineering where she began to call up schematics and calculate the time and amount of crew necessary to complete the job.

Maxine had been at work for hours and hours when she leaned back in her office chair, stretching tense muscles in her back and neck. "There is no way this can work!" she yelled as she threw one of the many padds she had been using onto her desk. Frustrated she picked up another padd and began entering more data.

"There is no way that we can build a mock up of a full sized shuttlecraft in 7 days. It would take a whole team of engineers at least one month to complete the job. And even if we did manage to build it, how would we get it to Den'a? You can't tow it--you can't transport it in the Warrior because she would need to decloak to release it. It needs it's own power source. Think Maxine!" she chided herself," what other options do you have? Use a new shuttlecraft and take it apart? Possibly, but only as a last resort. If Starfleet does go to war with the Khynah, we'll need every ship we can get. Hmmm," Maxine quickly picked up one of the many padds on her desk and entered more instructions.

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Lt. Cmdr. Jesse Sanchez walked slowly back to his quarters after the mission orders from the Captain. I thought I could handle being Security Chief, " he mumbled to himself, "but now I'm not so sure. Do I have what it takes to order one of my men to his possible death?!" He kept running these thoughts over and over in his mind until he reached his quarters. By that time he had answered his own questions.

"Yes! I am prepared for this and there is no way one of my men is going to his death! Not if I can help it, and I intend to do just that." He sat down at his terminal and began going over the two crewman he had in mind for the job--Muhamed Amal and Sergi Yostrinkov.

After carefully going through both personnel files, he had decided positively on Yostrinkov. He had handled more stressful situations successfully than had Muhamed--and he was cooler in a crisis than Muhamed.

Sitting back in his chair he wondered, Should I contact Sergi tonight or let him sleep until tomorrow? Seeing how time was of the essence, Jesse decided he couldn't wait. Grabbing two stogies and a bottle of Aldebaran Brandy he kept for special occasions, he decided to go and wake up Sergi. "A smoke and a few good drinks should help," he said to himself as he left his quarters.

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Maxine Taggert had spent the entire night going over all the equipment she would need and calculating the time and personnel necessary to get the job completed and every time she made these calculations she always came up with the same answer--it can't be done.

"Damn!" she slammed down the padd in total frustration. Maxine was not one to admit defeat and she wouldn't do it this time either. Maxine got up from her chair and began pacing the floor of her small office. "Think Maxine! she chided herself. There's got to be a way to do this without building a shuttlecraft or destroying a new one. She slumped back down in her chair, mentally exhausted. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes attempting to relax. After a few minutes she had the solution. "That's it!" she cried, suddenly bolting upright in her chair. "Computer, " she began.

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An hour and several drinks later, Sergi said, "So, I may not be coming back from this one huh, boss?" Jesse and Sergi had been going over all the details of what would be Sergi's mission, should he decide to take it.

"There is always that possibility Sergi, but I don't intend to lose anyone under my command so soon after taking over this department," he said with a smile, taking another drag off his stogie.

"And it's that important, right? I mean this whole mission?"

"Yes. The lives of many people are depending on the success of this mission and you, if you accept this."

"You're not ordering me to accept this mission, sir?" asked Sergi, surprised at having a choice.

"Nope. That's not the way I do business. At least not in this situation."

Sergi let out a heavy sigh as he made his decision. "Then I accept, sir. And I won't let you or those people down."

Jesse got up and put his hand on Sergi's shoulder. "I know you won't, Sergi. I have every confidence in you. Now, I think the both of us had better get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.

"Right. And thanks for the smoke and drink."

"Anytime. We'll have another round when you get back, okay?"

Sergi smiled. "Yes, sir. I look forward to that."

"So do I. Now get some sleep crewman! And that IS an order," Jesse said smiling as he gathered up his half empty bottle and headed for the door.

Looking back just before he stepped out, Jesse saw Sergi still sitting on the sofa, his head down, apparently deep in thought. "Tough job," he thought, stepping out the door.

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After an all night session in Medbay, Mira and her staff of two had studied all information on the Khynah--holographic images, skin condition, hair, nail and eye statistics--everything the computer had and they finally decided on a course of action.

They decided to inject their patient with hair growth hormones which would result in long hair within 24 hours, which would then be braided into the Khynah hairstyle by the holographic barber. They could do a graft of artificial hair but this way seemed safer for the agent in case he got into a hair pulling fight.

The nails or talons would need to be replicated and glue onto his regular nails--no need for grafting there.

Teeth would be replicated and fused with his own.

They would overlay the patient with a holographic representation of the Khynah which would ensure exactness in matching Khynah features. They concluded that the entire operation--face, neck, shoulders and hands would take approximately 13 hours.

"Ok, Kate, Soyinya, we will need to get some sleep before we begin the operation," said Mira. "We've been up all night and will need to be fresh when we begin."

"When will that be?" asked Kate.

"I don't know exactly, whenever Jesse informs me that his candidate is ready. Probably about 17 or 18 hundred hours. Maybe sooner. That's why I suggest the three of us get some sleep. And remember, say nothing of this to anyone."

"Yes sir," they both replied as they picked up their padds and left Mira's office. A few minutes later Mira did the same on her way back to her quarters, to hopefully get a few hours of sleep.

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SCIENCE DEPARTMENT MAIN SCIENCE LAB 49803.20 0730 hours

"There are 2743 different synthetic skin types in the computer data banks," said Ensign Jonas Finch, Lab Tech as he scanned down the impressive list.

"Guess we'll have to narrow that down a bit then, huh Ensign?" asked Cmdr. Simon McRaney.

"Yes sir. But none are exactly what we need".

"We will mix and match them," said Ensign Akhiem El Sundal, Exo-biologist. "Take one element--say skin color and match it with another, for instance skin texture. Program the computer with the correct Khynah stats. We should come up with something soon."

"Did Dr. Montgomery get those teeth already?' asked Simon. His department had replicated a set of Khynah teeth for Mira to fuse onto Sergi's real ones.

"Yes, sir. We sent them up first thing this morning," replied Finch.

"Good. Now what about the Khynah talons?" asked Simon.

"That shouldn't be a problem, Commander," replied El Sundal. " I will program the replicator to match the talons. Then we will glue them onto Mr. Yostrinkov. "

"Will the glue be strong enough?" asked Simon.

"We will use the strongest, most durable kind Starfleet has to offer, sir. If he should lose one in battle or whatever, it will most likely pull his own nail off with the talon. They will seem like his own nails--er...talons."

"Sounds painful," said Simon. "Now, how long can Yostrikov wear the skin without harm?"

"The synthetic skin we will use will be porous," began Sundal. "He should be able to wear it comfortably for 48 to 72 hours depending on the climate and how much exertion he exhibits. After that he will become very uncomfortable as his skin will start to sweat profusely causing the glue to disintegrate. He will need to be off the planet by that time or else..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence as they all knew what would happen to Crewman Yostrinkov--certain death after an intensive torture session.

"Let's hope he will be well off the planet by that time then," said Simon, wishing there was more he could do to insure the crewman's chances of success.

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MAIN SHUTTLEBAY 49802.20 0800 hours

"Lt. Cmdr. Maxine Taggert on Apache, requesting permission to depart main shuttlebay," she called from the pilot's seat with Hyper Nor was sitting in as co-pilot--a task she did not look forward to on this long trip.

"Runabout Apache, you are cleared for departure. Have a safe trip, Commander," came Ensign Mallory's crisp voice.

"Confirmed," said Maxine. "Apache away."

Maxine and her crew, consisting of Lt. jgs Hyper Nor and Terry Sauter, Ensign Matthew Fulton and Crewmen Andrea Vasquez and Pedro Rodriguez, were heading toward Federation Salvage Yard #12 in the Alliance runabout, Apache. They were going to pick up a used shuttlecraft which they would then strip and get in shape for the agent to ride into Khynah space. Due to the time constraints, they would be working on the shuttle inside of the runabout and had taken out all non essential equipment in order to fit the shuttle into the belly of their craft. Unfortunately, this included sleeping quarters and all would be sleeping in beds on the floor for the duration of the trip which was estimated at 96 hours total--that is if nothing went wrong.

The Alliance could make that trip in less than half the time, but with the situation on the relay communications station unknown, she couldn't leave her post. That meant 96 hours in close quarters with Lt. Cmdr. Maxine Taggert, which was not what Hyper and Terry were looking forward to.

During the trip to the salvage yard, Maxine kept them all busy going over the plans to refit the used shuttle. They would need to strip it of anything which could be used against the Federation by the Khynah such as computer components, which might possibly be left over after they blew up the entire shuttle. Nothing would be left to chance.

After two days of preparations and flight time, the Apache reached Federation Salvage Yard #12.

"USS Alliance runabout Apache requesting permission to orbit," called out Maxine Taggert.

"Apache, you are cleared to maintain a standard orbit," came the reply. "Welcome to Federation Salvage Yard #12," came the friendly voice of the yard manager.

"This is Lt. Cmdr. Maxine Taggert. I am here to procure a federation shuttlecraft I message you about two days ago."

"Yes, I remember. You will need to transport into the office for authorization. I will then direct you to your shuttlecraft. Shields are down. Proceed"

"Confirmed," replied Maxine, getting up from the pilot's seat and proceeding to the transporter. "Energize," she instructed Hyper Nor.

Maxine materialized in the main office of the salvage yard which consisted of one large, round room with consoles and monitors around 3/4th of the wall space. The other wall space held a doorway leading to sleeping and eating quarters.

"Welcome, Lt. Cmdr. Maxine Taggert. I am Crewman Abe Flowers, Manager of the yard. Pleased to meet you," he said.

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

MEDBAY MAIN SURGICAL UNIT 49803.20 1845 hours

The surgical suite was cool and silent except for the gentle hum of the biobed and other equipment .It had been sealed off to allow for complete privacy for this operation.

Sergi Yostrinkov lay on his back on the biobed trying not to think of what was before him--the surgery, the mission. This would be the most relaxation he would have for quite awhile so he was determined to make the best of it.

"Try and relax, Sergi," came Dr. Mira Montgomery's soothing voice. "This will be over before you know it," she smiled as she administered the first of the anesthetics.

Sergi smiled as Dr. Montgomery's face slowly faded from view as the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness enveloped him.

"Computer," called Mira, "display holographic overlay onto patient." Instantly a transparent holographic representation of the Khynah captured last year was overlaid onto Crewman Yostrinkov's body. This would allow the surgeons to make an exact copy of the Khynah's features onto Sergi's body.

"Laser scalpel," ordered Valore as she began the long surgery procedures.

Hours later, Sergi's face, neck, shoulders and hands were completed. "Now, I'll graft the contact lenses onto his corneas," said Montgomery. "Kate..."

Handing the lenses to Montgomery, she said, "Too bad he couldn't just use the colored eyedrops," said Kate.

"Yes, it is," replied Mira, "but they only last 12 hours. I doubt he could explain his sudden change of eye color from Khynah black to baby blue."

Montgomery quickly and carefully completed the cornea graft. "Now he has Khynah eyes to go along with his Khynah face," said Mira.

"This is spooky," replied Kate, suppressing a small shudder, "seeing a Khynah here like this after what we went through last year with them."

"I feel the same way, Kate," said Mira. Dr. Valore glanced at the two medical officers and could only imagine what they had gone thought since that was before she joined their crew. She was glad she had missed it.

"All right, his teeth are next," said Montgomery as Kate handed her the set of replicated Khynah teeth.

"These look a bit like Klingon teeth," Kate remarked, "only uglier."

Mira smiled as she had to agree with Kate on her assessment of the teeth. "Yes, they do, don't they? Infuser," she ordered.

"The synthetic skin will be his biggest problem" remarked Mira as she deftly fused the Khynah teeth to Sergi's own real ones. "It will be uncomfortable to say the least. Let's just hope he won't have to remain in it for too long a time."

"At least when he gets back he won't need to undergo a full body retransformation back into a Terran," remarked Kate, referring to the fact that the skin would be glued onto his body instead of grafting it on as they had the face, neck, shoulders and hands.

Mira and Valore glanced at each other at Kate's remark--both thinking the same thing--that Crewman Yostrinkov may not make it back. Neither one voiced that thought as if to do so would make it come true.

"Now, one more little touch and we're finished,," said Montgomery. "There. Let's get him into recovery."

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

CAPTAIN'S LOG 49803.22

Everything has been quiet for the past two days. Crewman Yostrinkov has recovered from his surgery and is now undergoing intensive training with Lt. Cmdr. Jesse Sanchez as well as learning how to become a Khynah using the computer hologram. Counselor Bek informs me that the crew is wise to something going on, which doesn't surprise me, as this is a very observant crew. However, Yostrinkov is being kept under strict cover, being transported back and forth from his quarters to the holodeck for training. All is well...for now.

LOG OUT.

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

JAKE'S PLACE 49803.22 2100 hours

Kate hung up her vest and said herself and mumbled something to Cam about getting to the bridge. Kate smiled at her sister-in-laws enthusiasm for her new duties on the bridge.

Kate thought about it as she walked towards the lift. She had not seen Jesse Sanchez once during her volunteer time as a server in Jake's Place, which was unusual. The chief of Security usually made an appearance as a means of unwinding. Maybe the current mission, the one she could not speak of, was causing him to put in a lot of overtime. She knew he had been spending a lot of queer hours doing things he couldn't talk about, or wouldn't talk about, knowing how sensitive things were.

She inquired of the computer as to his whereabouts, and found to her delight that he was in his quarters.

One deck down and a quick walk she was at his door. His quarters were dark as she let herself in with a palm pass. He had either disabled the chime or had left, but either way he never minded her coming in. The doors kahissed behind her as she looked around the darkened rooms. One soft light emitted from the bedroom area, and one single sigh of a snore.

Kate smiled to herself at the sound and went over to the doorway. He was exhausted and that's why he didn't answer. Well everyone had been putting in long hours lately.

Her smile melted when she looked at him. He lay on the bed on his back, where apparently he had just flopped as he was still dressed in his uniform, which was tattered, torn, and bloodstained.

She felt a cry escape her throat and went over to his side. He had a crusty scalp wound and the fingers of his left hand were like sausages.

"Jess," she shook him physically to no avail. He didn't even mumble.

"Jess!" she said a bit more emphatically, touching his cheek with the back of her hand. Suddenly she felt as if the world were crashing around her. This was too much, although it probably looked worse than it was. "Jess you lazy lima bean, wake up," she urged, feeling her heart and throat choke up.

He finally opened his eyes and blinked, Ahh, I musta fallen asleep. What time is it?"

"Late," she replied. "What is going on?"

"Huh?" he wondered with a blink. He went to scratch his forehead and disturbed the scab. "Oh crud. Oh man."

"What were you doing?"

"Training on the holodeck," he remembered. "I must have zigged instead of zagged."

"No safeties?"

"Heck no. More realism the better. Never mind, I don't want to go into this."

"You need to go to medbay," she insisted.

"I don't want to go to medbay, too many questions. Just grab the field kit, it's somewhere on my dresser I think."

"Alright, but I'm telling Mira in the morning. What does the other guy look like?"

"You don't want to know. Ugly. Sorta like a Khynah SOB."

"That's what I thought. I didn't think this happened on the mats in the wrestling room." She wandered to the dresser and found the med kit. She quickly ran the scanner over him. "You have a cracked metacarpal bone in your wrist, bruising and miscellaneous cuts."

"Kate have you ever thought about combat duty?" he wondered as she treated his wrist.

"Why?" she wondered, looking up into his green eyes.

"I dunno you always seemed tough enough for it. Not a pansy."

"Well," she thought. "Since Peter I have felt as if I have nothing to loose, and that maybe you point people need someone to patch you up. Jesse is it true that the Khynah are taking prisoners?"

"I can't say for sure. We may find Peter, we may not. Intelligence is...this is classified stuff, Kate. I don't know if I can justify talking to you about it. Everything is on a need to know basis."

"Fine I understand. I just feel so--"

"So what? Helpless? Lost?"

She shut her tricorder slowly. I just wanted to know the truth."

"The truth is we don't know what happened to Peter. We don't know if the Lovell personnel are prisoners or not."

"Let me give you an analgesic to take down the swelling in your wrist. It will be sore for a few days."

"Sure doc, I know the drill," he quipped, wondering why she was suddenly hiding behind her work. The injection felt cold for a moment as she packed the hypo away.

"A warm soaking shower would help you get all the lactic acid out of your muscles." She got up and turned her back.

He moaned softly as he tried to sit up. He felt light headed and queazy as the meds began flowing through his bloodstream. Since Xanor he did not take meds well and the associated queasiness usually was accompanied by a lowering of the suppression of the colored halo. He didn't talk to anyone about it, as he didn't want to be labeled a freak. It was something that needed to be endured. Besides it usually faded as the meds wore off. He didn't have to take the heavy analgesics often, fortunately.

Despite her turned back, he could see her emotions. She had the soft multicolored aura. It started faint and grew into a soft intensity, dancing around her like a foggy haze. He swallowed and mentally tried to suppress the sensation. He hesitated and fought the urge to ask her to express herself. It was none of his business why her emotions were in such a tangle.

"I'm going to let you get some rest, and let you heal. IF you need anything, just let me know."

"I'll be fine." He walked stiffly over to her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Kate you can tell me what's wrong."

"I just keep hoping that in some way, I could know one way or the other. I mean is he dead or isn't he? I can't just assume anything. How is that training coming, anyway?"

"Well our student is quick," he scratched his head for a moment. "Hey you've seen the Khynah, you know what they are like, right?"

"Sure," she shrugged.

"How would you like to come to the deck and see for your self? I could use another opinion about how this is coming and since you've been involved from the getgo.."

"The holodeck," she said flatly.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, no. If you want my opinion fine."

"Great, I'll give ya a buzz when I have the next session. You know he's living in that world, eating breathing Khynah. This has to be convincing."

"I understand. Good night Jess."

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

FEDERATION SALVAGE YARD #12 49803.22 0115 hours

"Crewman, I don't have time for pleasantries!" growled Maxine Taggert. " Where is the authorization padd?"

"Come now, Commander Maxine. I'm sure you have time for a cup of tea or maybe...Romulan Ale? he asked with a raise of his eyebrow and a smile, which was more like a leer. Apparently Crewman Abe Flowers did not get many female visitors in this part of space.

Maxine could not believe what she was hearing! A crewman making a pass at ...her?! "Crewman Flowers!" she bellowed, "I can have you up on charges for what you've just implied!"

"Oh really? But surely a woman as lovely as you can't be that cruel to a little ole crewman, now, can you?" His smile widened, showing his perfectly white teeth. He slowly took one step towards Maxine.

"Stop right where you are crewman! thundered Maxine, not wanting to get any closer to this obviously insane man.

"Or what, sweetie? You'll man handle me? Or should I say woman handle me--which I would no doubt prefer."

"Stop that!" yelled Maxine, unable to handle a flirtation, even if it was an overly aggressive one. "I'll have your job crewman if you don't desist in your behavior this instant!" Maxine's face was becoming redder by the moment from anger which Flowers took as her being embarrassed and pleased at his attentions.

"My job?! he laughed. "Please do! Take me away from this exciting, wonderful position, Maxine and I shall be eternally grateful. Or better yet, bust my rank. Oh, wait! I can't get lower than crewman! In that case, how bout spending a little bit of time with me and that ale I mentioned? Say, what kind of music do you enjoy Maxine? Opera perhaps? he smiled, coming closer to her.

He was getting much too close for Maxine's comfort now as she quickly grabbed his arm, twisting it up behind him and slamming him over the console station. "Now sweetie," exaggerated Maxine, "are you going to give me those coordinates to that shuttlecraft or not?"

"Oooo, Maxine, I love it when you play rough!" he giggled.

Maxine seriously thought about pulling out her phaser and blowing the guy's innards all over the control station, but thought better of it. It was a nice, clean, well kept station and she had a healthy respect for good equipment.

"Okay, okay, honey," he said. "Just put your thumbprint on that padd over there," he nodded to a padd sitting on his main console station. "After that authorization, I'll give you the coordinates."

Maxine put her knee to Crewman Flower's back, holding him down, not willing to risk his being free, and grabbed the padd. She pressed her thumb to the small panel on the padd then stuck it under his nose. "See this?" she asked. "Now give me those coordinates!" She emphasized this last order with more pressure to his back.

"Will you let me up first?"

"Get serious!"

"Okay, okay! Boy! You sure like to play rough Maxine! The coordinates are 004 by 165 by 378, sector 136, space 44."

"Thank you!" Maxine snarled as she removed her knee from his back and hit her comm badge. "Apache, one to transport!" she ordered.

As she began to dematerialize, she saw Crewman Flowers blow her a kiss as he continued to smile.

"Nor, take over as pilot," ordered Taggert, not wanting to have any more contact with Crewman Flowers.

Hyper was surprised that Taggert would turn over control of the runabout to anyone, as she was one who always had to be in control of any situation.

"Yes, sir," replied Hyper, taking the pilot's seat. "Apache runabout to Salvage Yard, ready for departure."

"Apache confirmed," came Flowers' voice. "And tell Maxine Taggert it was a pure pleasure meeting her. I hope we meet again VERY soon."

"Ah... will do Yard," said a very confused Hyper Nor as she quickly stole a glance at Taggert, whose face was still visibly red. Taggert turned and glared at her, saying nothing. Hyper quickly looked away, wondering exactly what had happened down there.

"Not a word of this Nor!" ordered Taggert.

"Of what, sir?"

"Exactly Lieutenant. And keep it that way!"Even though she would die before she let anyone know, Maxine had actually enjoyed her little encounter with Crewman Flowers. But if she ever met him again she would, of course, have to kill him, she thought, a slight smile on her face.

"Yes sir," said Hyper, trying very hard to suppress a grin, her imagination running wild!

Hyper piloted the Apache to the appropriate coordinates and found the shuttlecraft. "Boy! That's in bad shape!" she exclaimed when she saw the battered shuttle.

"It's used, Lieutenant. It's not supposed to look new," said Taggert.

"Yes, sir," said Hyper, wondering if the shuttle would work at all, much less good enough to transport someone all the way to the Khynah homeworld!

After beaming the shuttle into their cargo bay, and with the Apache on autopilot, headed back toward the Alliance, Taggert, Hyper, and the rest of the team began working on getting the shuttlecraft in shape.

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

She shrunk behind a rock peering out with great trepidation and felt the adrenaline flow, turning her stomach, clenching her shoulders. She wanted to run. Run far, run fast.

Jesse flopped beside her with a rifle in his hand, his eyes large and expressive, his mouth held in a tight line. "Whaddya think?"

"This is horrid!" she hissed back.

"Pisses the hell out of me to think that our people could be in this hell hole. No one deserves this nonsense."

"So you justify the killing of their species to save others?"

"What do you think? If they get any further then--"

He was cut off by nearby movement. Kate listened in horror to the course guttural language and watched the warriors move about.

"Jesse get me out of here," she whispered, feeling panic crawling on her skin like some parasitic organism.

"What's wrong?"

"It's too real, get me out of here. This is why I have trouble with the holodeck."

"But this isn't real, you know that."

"It's too real, I need to get out. I can't stand the thought that Peter could be here, I can't stand the thought that people are dying because--This reminds me too much of hiding on that station. I need to get out--now."

Jess sighed sounding a bit exasperated. Suddenly something cold was on his neck. He looked up into the face of the Khynah and suddenly his world collapsed into a red haze as Kate screamed to freeze the program.

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

"He'll be fine it was just a stun," Mira insisted as she walked around the med bay.

"Just a stun," Kate sighed. "I thought that we had really had it."

Mira Montgomery glanced at the thin figure seated on a biobed, her arms gathered around her knees, thick curls of copper hair falling in her face. "You're really worried, aren't you?"

"Who wouldn't be? I apologize that came out wrong."

"Don't apologize," Mira insisted.

"What I saw made me angry, Doc. I want to fight, I can't explain this feeling. I don't want to see this continue!"

"Captain Forrester is doing what he can, believe me."

"But can this work? Will it work? I don't want to see anyone killed anymore!" She ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

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

CAPTAIN'S LOG 49803.24 0445 hours

We have reached Communications Relay Station 249. There is heavy evidence of an attack although in Sanchez's estimation it is not following the same pattern as the Khynah attack on the Science Station last year. He has expressed a grave reluctance in sending an away team over to the station, fearing another ambush, an opinion shared by most of the senior officers. I nor anyone wish to have a repeat of the massacre on the Science Station. Starfleet has sent us in because we are the most experienced in dealing with the current problem, we have an intimate understanding of how these beings work, and our knowledge is growing all the time. This was just the kind of situation they have prepared us for.

This is the first real test of the Alliance. She is far different than the Endeavour. Her crew knows the game, I hope we do not necessitate a test of her combat capabilities, yet.

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

Relay Station 249 was dark and silent as the Alliance approached. Dark, because the normal operational maker lights were not functioning. Silent, because she emitted no noise, no radiation of any kind on any frequency. She just registered as a dark metallic object in space, emitting oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen and other various gasses.

Cam frowned as the helmsman brought the Alliance deftly alongside. What happened? was the burning thought crossing her mind.

What happened? Why the silence? Jess thought as he studied his tactical screen with a furrowed glance. He let his fingers stab at the controls in a temperamental fit. He didn't like this.

"What's the status of 249?" Forrester asked.

"I am reading no life forms, energy output minimal. She's holding atmosphere but just barely." Sanchez spoke briskly as he studied his tactical board. "Her automatic beacon isn't running."

"Any signs of Khynah?"

"None sir,"

"There is nothing, no ion trails no radiation. Tachyons are negative," Cam reported in a clinical tone. "Whomever did this left no trace of their retreat. The sector is clear."

"Prepare your boarding party Mr. Sanchez," Commander Sinclair ordered with a momentary glance at Capt. Forrester. "Arm them."

"Engineers?" Sanchez wondered.

"By all means. We need to restore power and communications." Sinclair nodded, "and take along a med tech. Our sensors may have missed someone."

"Aye, sir," Sanchez nodded.

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

ALLIANCE RUNABOUT APACHE

"Commander," began Hyper Nor, "these dilithium crystals are really shot, sir. I doubt they have more than two or three hours max at full warp--maybe not even that long."

"We need at least three hours, Nor, see to it!" ordered Maxine Taggert.

"Yes sir," answered Nor, thinking Taggert never wants much--just the impossible!

"Sauter!" yelled Maxine, "Status report!"

"Transporter is non operational, but with a few trans static capacitors, I think I can repair it."

"You think?!" growled Taggert.

"Yes, sir. I mean...no sir. I mean, I know I can sir!" answered Terry Sauter, feeling the pressure of being cooped up with Taggert for over three days!

"That's better. What about the sensors?"

"I can repair the short range sensors, but the long range ones are non existent. It would take more than we have here to repair it."

"Computers?"

"No voice interface, but manual is working, along with navigational and minimal ops control."

"Explain."

"The pilot will have minimal navigational control, not much maneuverability. We can program his route from the Alliance, but he won't be able to navigate much beyond that."

"Do your best, Lieutenant," said Taggert.

"Yes, sir," replied Terry, visible relaxing. She thought she would be in for more yelling from Taggert, but thankfully Taggert had calmed down a bit. Now, back to work, she thought to herself.

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

49803.24 2355 hours

"Apache runabout requesting permission to dock," came Maxine Taggert's strong voice hailing the Alliance.

"Apache, permission granted to dock in main shuttlebay. Welcome back, Commander Taggert."

"Apache confirmed."

"Sauter, Nor," began Taggert. "Let's get this shuttlecraft ready to launch."

"Yes, sir," they both responded, dead to the world, but glad to be back aboard the Alliance.

"Hey, Hyper," whispered Terry, "what do you think happened with Taggert and Flowers?"

"Beats me," said Hyper, "but I sure would like to know!"

"Lieutenants Nor and Sauter!" screamed Taggert, after finishing the docking procedures, "hop to it!"

Terry and Hyper exchanged glances of exasperation, both glad to be back home.

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

USS WARRIOR 49803.26

"All stop," ordered Captain Margret Fulton as she stood on the Bridge of the USS Warrior.

"Anything on the sensors?" she asked the Vulcan operations officer.

"Long range scans show nothing, sir," answered Lt. T'Seri.

"Good." Captain Fulton turned to Crewman Yostrinkov, who now resembled a Khynah from head to foot. "Ready?"

"Yes sir.

"Then proceed to the shuttle and prepare for launch."

"Aye, Captain," replied Yostrinkov as he made his way down to the cargo bay.

"Shuttlecraft Echo ready for departure," called Sergi Yostrinkov, settleing into the pilot's seat.

"Decloak now," order Fulton.

As soon as the Warrior decloaked, Yostrinkov piloted the craft out into space and headed toward Den'a.

"Good luck Echo. We'll be waiting for your pickup signal," said Fulton.

"Thank you sir. I will be counting on that."

"Decloak and set coordinates for circular surveillance route," ordered Fulton.

"Ay, Captain," said Lt. T' Seri as she proceeded to set the appropriate coordinates. The Warrior would remain as close as possible to the Khynah homeworld in order to receive Yostrinkov's signal when he had completed his mission. Too much closer in and they would run the chance of being detected even though they were cloaked. They didn't want to take the chance of 'running into' any ships which might be running in their particular orbit either.

"May the Universe keep you safe, Crewman Yostrinkov, Captain Margret Fulton said under her breath as she watched the small craft pull away from her ship.

To say he was scared would have been an understatement. But Sergi knew a lot of people depended on his getting information back to Captain Forrester and Starfleet.

To say he was piloting the shuttlecraft was not quite accurate. While he had been shown the fundamentals of piloting a shuttlecraft, he had not actually taken that particular course in his days of training. All he had to do was sit back and let the shuttle take him on its pre-programmed course straight to Den'a at warp factor 5.

As he settled into his seat awaiting his arrival in Khynah space, which would be in approximately 3 hours, he took the time to review his mission in detail--call to Den'a, set destruct timer, transport down and improvise from then on. He was good at improvising. He had done a lot of that during his school days. Maybe he should have spent more time studying and less improvising, he thought now.

The shuttle was now making its way close to Den'a and automatically dropped out of warp and proceeded on full impulse.

"Computer. Scan for any ships," he ordered. There was no response. Sergi slapped his head. "Oh, right! This isn't a fully functional shuttle, I forgot! I have to manually enter all info and questions." Sergi quickly entered the appropriate instructions for a short range scan. "Nothing. That's good," he said to himself out loud. He usually talked to himself when there was no one else around. The Chief said that was okay as long as he didn't start hearing answers!

"Long range scans were non operational and so Sergi did not see the Khynah ship which hailed him. "Khynahs! This is NOT good. Now what do I do? I can't outrun them. Hopefully they won't see me as a threat. After all, I'm just a tiny little craft with no weapons."

He rode in silence for the next few tense filled minutes until he was hailed again by the Khynah ship.

"Identify yourself!" came the guttural order. Now is where my training and language skills start to kick in, he said to himself.

Sergi hit the video comm panel. "I am Khynah! I come bring craft to Den'a! I escaped from Federation starship!" he yelled into the comm system as the Khynah had, hoping he sounded and looked as brutal as the original owner of this face.

"Halt your vehicle and prepare to be boarded," came the reply.

Damn! I can't let that happen! They would see this is not a fully functional shuttlecraft and how would I explain that?! What to do now? Sergi hit the timer on the bomb which was planted near the warp drive engine. "No! Do not attempt to board! There is trouble. Explosion! Will try to disarm and bring shuttle to Den'a! Stay away!"

"We read energy jump. Follow you into Den'a"," came the Khynah response.

Sergi knew he had exactly five minutes from the time he set the device to the explosion. He prepared to transport down to Den'a just before that happened.

At one minute until detonation, Sergi transported himself down onto the planet of Den'a just in time to see the bright light of the exploding shuttlecraft light up the night sky.

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

ALLIANCE TRANSPORTER ROOM #1

Lt Cmdr Sanchez looked at the faces in the transporter room. His team, his away team regarded him with a mixture of expressions, most of them rather grim and determined. They were for the most part, veterans of the first Khynah engagement, and were somewhat accustomed to being in the mode of first strike.

Lt. jg Terry Sauter, Crewman Anna Childress and Ensign Taylor Spratt, glanced at Camellia Ines, a security crewman who had recently joined the crew, along with Ensign Twyla Pelle, who both met Sanchez's eyes with blunt trusting looks. Terry looked slightly out of place behind Pelle's broad shoulders.

The door opened behind him and in walked Ensign Makino Yukuta, med tech, his eyes large with apprehension.

"Alright people, we need to establish what is going on here and why our relay station is off line. We are getting spotty readings from the sensor grid, for reasons unknown. Your first priority is to find out why and if someone did this. Second, engineers, get the station back on line, if you have to jury rig it, fine, but get it operational."

He turned to Audra McKay, "Ok Chief, it's your show now. Godspeed men."

Jesse watched the team dissolve into nothingness and he sighed. His arms crossing in a pensive manner. He glanced at McKay and shook his head. "Something isn't right here."

"You don't suspect another ambush do you?"

"No but given the past I don't like doin' this. Call me a skeptic, call it what you like, I just don't like it. Keep a lock on them if you can. I want to be able to pull them out at the first whisper of trouble."

"Yes sir," Audra replied softly as Jesse stormed out of the transporter room heading to the bridge to monitor the progress of the team.

When he arrived the first report was already coming in from Crewman Ines..

"The power grid was overloaded, I'm going through the logs to see if i can figure out why. Something happened. There are signs of ransacking and there are some pieces of equipment missing. Hold on....Ensign Pelle has found something...."

Sanchez stared at the ceiling waiting for Ines to continue. The bridge was equally as silent.

The Communications officer licked her lips and made some minor adjustments on her panel.

"Sir, Captain? Ensign Pelle has found a Romulan disrupter under an overturned workbench in the maintenance area."

"Understood Ines, keep us informed, Forrester out. Mr. MacLaughlin are you picking up any kind of Romulan activity in the area?"

"None that I can readily identify sir. I'll keep scanning and broaden my search patterns."

"Keep on it Commander," Forrester ordered. "Any speculation, Mr. Sanchez?"

"One of two possibilities, as it stands sir." Jess thought quickly, his mind running over possibilities and weighing odds. He had to give his Captain the best speculation he could. " Either the Romulans have broken the treaty in light of the current Khynah threat or somehow all this doesn't appear to be what it is. A dupe sir."

"Dupe?"

"A fake, a rouse." Jesse added.

A faint glimmer of a smile crossed Forrester's eyes, caught by Cmdr. Sinclair as she studied her Captain's face anticipating his next orders. "I like that word Mr. Sanchez. How long do you estimate it's going to take to---"

"Sir I am picking up a vessel on long range sensors!" Sanchez suddenly spoke with a flurry of activity. "She's Romulan...D'deridex class! Uncloaked with shields raised."

"We are being hailed, sir" the communications officer added. "Weak signal, we are just within range."

"Mr. MacLaughlin are you reading any other ships?"

"No sir. This ship is alone."

"One ship over the zone?" Sanchez speculated aloud.

"Federation Starship!" the Romulan commander interrupted as the communications officer put the channel on the main view screen.

"What is the meaning of this?" Forrester wondered.

"It is your federation that has broken the treaty!" the Romulan insisted.

"We have not --"

"Federation lies. It is you who has broken the treaty with the direct attack of--"

"It is our relay station that has been attacked commander," Marcus tried to put tactfully. "I must in turn ask you why there was a Romulan disrupter found on our station?"

The commanders eyes were steely. He suspected something, he just didn't know what. But he was not ready to trust this Federation Captain! "I can assure you Captain that no Romulan has attacked your station. You only say this to try and justify your attack on one of our ships!"

"Commander, I can assure you that no Federation ship has attacked any Romulan vessel. I don't know what you are referring to." Forrester knew that what he said today might be the difference in going to war with the Romulans or continuing with the uneasy peace between them.

"Lies! Three months ago your ship the USS Lovell attacked one of our freighters, killing all aboard! Explain that, Captain Forrester."

"The Lovell disappeared three months ago, Commander. We do not know what happened to it, but we suspect Khynah involvement. I can send you the files on it's disappearance if you prefer," he said calmly. Forrester was quickly putting two and two together now. The Khynah were playing the Romulans and Federation against each other. But why? To accomplish what?

The Romulan Commander paused. "I will get back to you Captain Forrester," he said, somewhat calmer. The communication link went silent.

"Sanchez, pull up all the files on the Lovell's disappearance, immediately," ordered Forrester.

"The confidential files as well, Captain?" he asked.

"No, but everything else."

"Yes sir," replied Jess, already working on retrieving the files.

Jesse shifted his feet feeling ill at ease.

The Captain turned to Sinclair. "Commander, speculate."

"Could whomever attacked this relay station" Rebecca said carefully forming her words, "also have attacked the Romulans as well, since we have not picked up any traces or evidence of Romulan involvement?

"What about the ships that have gone missing of late?" Sanchez wondered further. "Could the warp signature be masked because this is one of our own, and we wouldn't be looking for that?"

"Which ships?" Forrester asked for more clarification, testing, seeing, where thoughts were going.

"The ships we assumed were attacked by the Khynah. Could it really be the Romulans?" speculated Sinclair, "and making it look like the Khynah?"

"No," began Forrester. "This is not the Romulans' style. But it could be the Khynah's mode of operation. Considering that we don't know all that much about them yet. My bet is that this is all the work of the Khynah."

"I agree," said Sanchez.

Rebecca Sinclair shook her head affirmative.

"Captain the ship is powering up their weapons systems," Cam spoke tightly.

Marcus Forrester felt the anger rise in his face. He felt himself grow warm as he closed the comm channel with a flick of his hand. "Apparently our friends here are too impatient to listen to the truth." Shields up Mr Sanchez."

"Shield are up, apprising the away team of the situation sir."

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

Four Khynah guards quickly surrounded Sergi with phasers drawn and pointed at him. "This way!" their leader ordered, pointing to a building not far away.

The guards ushered Sergi into a small empty room, and left him there, closing and locking the door when they left. Was his disguise working? The thought crept into his mind, but was quickly dismissed because so far, he was still alive.

After a few minutes another Khynah entered the room. "Explain yourself!" he ordered.

"I will explain to leader, not you!" he yelled. He knew he had to go against all his upbringing of politeness and kindness in this Khynah world and intended to be the nastiest guy around as he spat the words at the Khynah. How long had it taken him to fight all instinct and yell at his commanding officer in training? How many times had Sanchez rebuked him in Khynah style to accustom him to the absolutely rigorous conditions into which these beings existed?

"You will tell me now!" he shouted, pressing close to Sergi. Sergi could smell the stench of this warrior--feel his hot breath in his face. Sergi's eyes narrowed stubbornly. He knew he was in for a fight.

"I bring information to leader, not you!"

The Khynah's hand moved so fast that Sergi barely had time to react before the knife slashed into the left side of his face. Grabbing his own knife from his belt, he quickly slashed out at his attacker, catching him on his right arm.

The Khynah stabbed at Sergi's middle which he avoided by jumping backwards. He then kicked out, catching the Khynah in his stomach, knocking him backwards into the door.

He came up swinging his knife at Sergi while he kept avoiding it's blade as best he could--which was not every time.

After several minutes of kicking, punching, slashing and gouging, two more Khynahs entered the room. "Stop!" You have done well---. You will come with us to see leader now."

Sergi now understood why they had let him keep his knife after transporting down. They wanted this fight. The Khynahs probably felt that if he was not who he said he was, he would have been killed. Luckily for him, Jesse had trained him well.

Sergi looked at his opponent who was bleeding from several wounds to his body. Sergi also noticed that he too had many bleeding wounds. One had cut through the synthetic skin in his thigh, to his own and was bleeding pretty bad. If not for the synthetic skin, the knife would have cut all the way to the bone he was sure.

His opponent rose slowly with a grin. "You are good, fighter! Good Khynah!", he said as he limped out the door.

After being taken to the leader, Sergi explained how he had escaped the starship and stolen the craft. He mentioned that he had killed many officers along the way and also had learned of secret plans by torturing one of those officers. Captain Forrester had given Sergi false information on Starfleet just to help ease his way back into the Khynah fold. The leader believed him because he knew that all Khynah were superior to all other humanoids.

After his lengthy interrogation, Sergi was ordered to guard the prisoners in the sublevels of the building--a duty considered for those Khynah who were wounded. No medical services were offered and Sergi had expected none as he bound his leg wound with part of his shirt. The Khynah were not big on easing anyone's pain or discomfort as he came to know all too well when he got his first look at the unfortunate prisoners he was ordered to guard.

Sergi stood in silence for several minutes, his back to the cold wall on the left side of the wide opening to the prisoner's cell--the force field emitting a steady hum. The corridor was dimly lit with read lights spaced several meters apart along each side of the walls. The smell was dank and moldy.

"I want to see prisoners," he said to the only other guard on duty. The guard had a bloodied bandage wrapped around his head and one around his left leg. Obviously Sergi was being treated exactly as the other Khynah's were. This was somewhat comforting.

"Why?"

"I want to see the Federation ---- who took my memory from me." Sergi's story was that Starfleet had done experiments on his memory, trying to get him to tell them of the Khynah plans. He told them nothing--at least that is what he told the commanding officer. This experiment resulted in Sergi losing part of his memory. "I want to kick them," he said, a slight grin on his face.

The guard laughed. "You won't find Federation officers in there. All Starfleet officers are interrogated, then killed. Too much trouble to keep for long. Others not so much trouble," he grinned through his ugly Khynah teeth--what was left of them.

"Then I kick them," said Sergi.

Laughing, the guard punched in the code to release the force field.

Sergi watched carefully, burning each number into his memory--2, 7, 4, 6, 3. Tom, Steven, Flo, Stan Thor. Like most humans, Sergi could remember numbers better if he associated them with names.

"Enjoy", grinned the guard as Sergi passed through the opening, the energy field snapping back on as soon as he passed through.

Sergi had a hard time keeping the smile on his face as he looked at all the pitiful humans and other species. They were all dirty, some wounded, some dying and some already dead. He was hoping and then not hoping that he would find someone he knew.

Oh my God! It's Peter MacLaughlin! Sergi knew Peter from his first assignment on the Columbia where Peter was First Officer. Sergi knew he was now Captain of the Lovell.

The Khynah said all the Federation officers were killed. They must have missed Peter, since he was not in his uniform, but what looked like pajamas, though it was hard to tell since they were torn and dirty. He must not have been on the bridge of his ship when they were attacked.

Sergi leaned down and shook Peter who quickly came to consciousness. Whether he had been sleeping or passed out, Sergi didn't know. Sergi knew he had to make it look good so he slapped Peter across the face, pulling him up by his shirt, whispering into his face. "Peter MacLaughlin, I'm from Starfleet. Pretend to cower. I have to make this look good."

Peter's eyes flew wide open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was it just his imagination? Had he heard correctly? Could it be that Starfleet had not forgotten about them after all these months? Peter put his hands up as if to protect himself.

"I will try and talk with you later," said Sergi as he shoved him back down and gave him a kick to his side. Peter made it look far worse than it was by screaming and grabbing his side.

Sergi walked around the other prisoners a bit, kicking at some and slapping at others. He hated doing it, but he knew the guard was still watching him.

He finally returned to his post, smiling satisfactorily.

"You enjoy?" asked the guard.

"Yes. I find one I would like to practice my skills on," said Sergi, taking out his knife, caressing it's blade.

"You better have your practice soon," said the guard.

"Why? What's the hurry?"

"Prisoners will be taken in two days to Draji to work in mines. We captured planet last week. Will bring us much wealth."

"I practice soon then," said Sergi, all kinds of thoughts racing around his head. Should he try and get the information out now? Or...

"I practice some myself. Though they don't last long enough!" laughed the guard.

Sergi laughed with him, thinking how he would like to kill this guy before he leaves.

"My name is Kroth," said the guard.

"I am Koveth."

"We will practice together huh? More fun that way!" he sneered.

"Yes. Soon," replied Sergi while thinking, I just might practice on you by fine Khynah fiend.

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

"We are STUCK here?" Carmella Ines asked the hint of panic rising in her voice. Communication from the Alliance had just been terminated by Cmdr. Sanchez. He had informed them of the situation and told them to keep standing by.

The gloom of the station's emergency lighting lent to strange shadows and areas of impenetrable darkness. It felt oppressive to the team when they realized that there was no way out of this.

"The Alliance cannot beam anyone over with shields up." Ensign Yukuta pointed out.

"We have no shields--who are they? Who is attacking?? Why??" asked Ines.

"Who knows? We don't have sensors," Spratt remarked aloud.

"I can have sensors, maybe, in a few minutes. This station has rudimentary sensors for the identification of approaching vessels, and for monitoring the neutral zone." Terry spoke from her dark corner of the gallery. She was working with some of the ransacked modules trying to restore power. The medtech lent a hand, since there were no humans needing repairs.

"I don¹t like this. If it is the Romulans--" Cwm. Ines continued.

"Then they have broken the treaty by entering Federation territory," Ens. Pelle spoke sharply.

"What if it's a Khynah warship? They've been in this area."

"Rumors! We don't know for certain." Pelle insisted, feeling that she alone was the voice of reason amidst the suddenly timid humans.

"But if it is them, will we be captured as well?" asked Ines.

"Not if Capt Forrester has anything to say about this." Twyla put firmly. She trusted the Captain, knowing his reputation from Sanchez and some of the other personnel that had served under him. She had listened to the stories and the mutterings of the personnel on Xanor, and on the transport back to Fleet headquarters.

"So what do we do?" Cwm. Ines wondered in a soft voice.

"We follow orders, we get this patched together and we will deal with problems as they arise, until such time the Alliance can bring us home. We wait." Pelle continued. "Let me see that disrupter. I've always wanted to see one up close and personal."

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

After several hours of standing guard, Sergi and Kroth were relieved and went to eat. Sergi's leg was throbbing and had begun to swell. He was trying hard not to limp and show weakness, but with the pain, it was hard to do.

"Your leg hurt bad?" asked Kroth.

"No. I fix," answered Sergi.

"We eat first, then you fix leg," said Kroth. "Follow me."

Thanks to Dr. Montgomery's wound infliction on his forehead, the Khynahs bought his story about his memory being affected. As long as he was able to fight, the Khynah's didn't seem to care whether or not he remembered where he lived or his family or friends--if he had any that is. Do Khynah's have family and friends? he wondered.

After walking down a long and dirty hallway, Kroth and Sergi came to the communal eating hall--a large room filled with long tables and benches where many Khynah were already sitting and eating. The smell of cooked food was suppressed by the overwhelming odor of sweating, filthy Khynah bodies as the din of guttural laughter and growls filled the air.

To the left was a large table where all the food was laid out. There were several kinds of meats and what looked like large potatoes and loaves of bread.

Kroth grabbed a plate and began filling it and Sergi did the same. At the end of the table were mugs. Kroth grabbed one and filled it with a beverage held in large casks at the end of the table.

Sergi and Kroth found empty seats not far away and sat down. Suddenly a Khynah was pushed toward Sergi and a fight broke out not far away. Standing up, Sergi quickly grabbed his knife, ready for another confrontation, but Kroth put his arm out, grabbing him. "Not your fight," he said.

Sergi sat back down and watched as one Khynah ending up killing the other with a knife thrust into his heart. Two other Khynahs came up and removed the body. The other Khynahs in the room merely continued their meal.

Afterwards, Kroth led Sergi to their sleeping quarters. It was one large room, several corridors from the prisoners' cell, on the same level.

The room contained many bunk bed, three to a bunk. Sergi wanted to get one close to the door so he could slip out if necessary and quickly took the first unoccupied bunk he came to. It was the lower bunk he wanted, but so did another Khynah who got there at the same time as Sergi.

"Mine!" screamed the Khynah. Kroth stepped back out of the way, knowing what had to happen.

God! Do I have to fight for everything around here?! Sergi wondered. Would it be worth it to stand and fight for this bed or just take another one? Sergi realized that the first time he gave into one of them, it would be considered a weakness and he would be singled out and eventually killed.

"Mine!" he shouted back, taking out his knife and waving it in front of his opponent. The Khynah put his hands up and backed off a few steps, signaling surrender.

Sergi knew this was too easy as he turned his back to the Khynah in order to slip into the bunk. When he did, the Khynah pulled his knife intending to stab Sergi in the back. Apparently back stabbing was considered honorable in this sick society.

Sergi was expecting this and quickly came around, his knife in his hand and caught the surprised Khynah in the stomach with his blade. The Khynah slumped to the floor, dead.

Sergi stood there, this knife dripping with Khynah blood as another one came and dragged the body away.

Kroth came up to Sergi. " I will take the middle bed," he said, swinging himself up into the bunk.

Sergi wiped the blood from his knife onto his pants and sat down. He had killed another living being! His first kill. No! I must not think this way! Not until I have fulfilled my mission. Still holding his knife, he checked his wound.

"Kroth, where is water? I need to fix wound."

"In the corner. But wait until all are asleep. Safer then."

Sergi nodded as he swung his legs up onto the bed and waited. After about an hour he made his way quietly to the corner sink where he washed his wound. This was harder than normal as the syn skin made it hard to get to. It looks like it's getting infected, thought Sergi. I don't have much time. I need to make my way outside to a safe transport zone, he thought. But I just can't leave Peter behind! I know Starfleet will try and rescue them, but I own this man something. He helped me with my first assignment and if it wasn't for him, I would probably have washed out of Starfleet by now. I must do something!

Sergi returned to his bed, after rebandaging his wound as best he could, and lay back down to think.

After a few minutes he knew what he had to do. He started to get up again when Kroth called to him. "Where you go, Koveth?"

"Can't sleep. Want to practice now," he said.

"Good! I go with you! Want to practice too!," he said as he jumped to the floor.

Great! thought Sergi, now what? "Come then. We practice together," he said, figuring he would think of how to get rid of Kroth later.

They made their way down several corridors to the prisoner's cell without incident and told the two guards on duty what they wanted to do. Apparently this was very common as they were both let in without a second thought.

Peter was watching as Sergi headed straight for him. "Get up!" he growled in Khynah, as he roughly picked Peter up by his shirt. He whispered, "Follow my lead."

Sergi shoved Peter in front of him. "Kroth, come with me and I show you practice," he snarled.

As they reached the entrance, Sergi called to the guards. "Let us out. I have information on this prisoner. He is Starfleet!" called Sergi.

Kroth looked surprised as they stepped through the entrance. The guard on the left quickly set the force field back on. As soon as they cleared the entrance, Sergi shoved Peter into the guard on the right, turned around and attacked the other one who was still turned away from them setting the field.

Peter managed to get the gun away from the guard as they both fell to the floor. He quickly came up, bashing the guard in the face with the butt of the gun while Sergi slammed the other one against Kroth, sending him into the force field, knocking him unconscious.

Sergi and the guard struggled with his rifle both slamming the other against one wall and then another until the guard suddenly stopped struggling and releasing the rifle he fell forward, a knife sticking out of his back where Peter had thrown the one he took off the armed guard.

"Now what?" asked Peter.

"Now we get the others and ourselves outta here," he said as he turned to the panel which controlled the force field. Tom, Steven, Flo, Stan Thor," he repeated as he entered the appropriate numbers and the force field came down.

Peter quickly ran into the cell and began waking the other prisoners. "Hurry, quickly, get up!" He managed to rouse about 75 prisoners, the others either too weak to take the chance or not willing to anger the Khynahs more by being caught while trying to escape. Some thought it was no use anyway and preferred to remain where they were.

The prisoners who were willing and able to leave, were helping those who were having trouble walking.

"Come on, let's go!" said Sergi in Federation Standard. Grab that rifle," he said to Peter as he leaned down to check on Kroth. He was still alive. What to do? Should he kill him or simply put him in with the other prisoners? He grabbed his knife and stood up just as Peter came over to him.

"Is he still alive?" he asked.

"Yes," said Sergi. "I was going to..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Peter had stabbed Kroth several times in the chest. "Now he's dead," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Stunned, Sergi followed Peter's lead and lead the way through the corridors. They didn't run into any trouble until right before getting onto the lift when two more Khynahs came around the corner and a fight ensued. Since it no longer mattered if anyone heard them, they began firing on the Khynahs.

It didn't take long to subdue them as the prisoners suddenly had enough energy to pounce on their captors and killed them quickly. Now they had two more guns and two more knives. The lift was not large enough to carry all of them at once and so they had to make two trips. Sergi went with the first group, while Peter stayed with the second group.

They managed to make their way out of the building by simply running as fast as they could and taking out any Khynahs who got in their way. Once outside, Sergi yelled, "To the hills! That way!" he instructed as the Khynahs came running after them, shouting and firing their weapons. Sergi knew that if they could reach the relative safety of the hills, he would be able to signal the Warrior to pick them up.

Sergi could see Peter's group right behind them, many falling under the fire of the Khynahs!

"Keep running!" Sergi yelled, "Keep running!" Many Khynahs were chasing them now and Sergi knew they had little chance of making it out. He hit the transponder which was hidden under his scalp, two times--the signal for pickup. Firing his gun and running he kept yelling, "Run! To the hills!"

The hills were several hundred meters away from the buildings, but they had to try and make it. There was no other choice! The low sand dunes provided some cover for them and Sergi and Peter took up positions behind one, along with the ones who had rifles to provide cover for the others.

They had outrun or killed the few Khynahs who had been following them and had a few moments to rest behind the temporary safety of the dunes.

"By the way, what is your name?" asked Peter. "Your voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it."

"Crewman Sergi Yostrinkov, sir," said Sergi. "You saved me from getting kicked out of Starfleet when we were serving on the Columbia."

"Ah yes, now I remember. A foolish prank, Sergi. But not bad enough to keep you out of Starfleet."

"Thanks to you."

"Sergi, listen to me. You will need to lead these people to a safe pickup point. I will stay here and hold them off for as long as I can."

"You can't do that by yourself, sir," said Sergi.

"Stop calling me sir. We are equals on this damned planet! And I can hold them off long enough I think. I assume you have a transponder under your skin somewhere?"

"Yes, si... Yes. I have already sent the signal. The Warrior will be here in a few minutes. They are coming in cloaked until the last minute."

"Were they expecting this many?"

"No, just me. I wasn't supposed to try and rescue anyone, just find out where and when you prisoners were being taking off Den'a."

"And did you?"

"Yes. You were to be taken to Draji in two days. I don't know if they still intend to do that now. I didn't think of the consequences. Just that I had to get as many of you out as I could."

"Just like on the Columbia, huh Sergi? You didn't think of the consequences then either," he smiled, thinking back to the young crewman's prank. "No matter now. I think they will still transport the ones left behind though. They value slaves and plan to take many more. I heard the guards talking one night. They plan on attacking space stations and blaming it on the Romulans. At least that's what I think they said. My Khynah's a little rusty."

"That's something that Starfleet should know."

"Yes, and that's why you need to be with those people, Sergi."

The four men and one woman who had the rifles were speaking amongst themselves while listening to Sergi and Peter talk. Now they spoke up.

"Sergi, we will stay with Peter and help the others and you get back to Starfleet. We know we will die, but we would rather die than be prisoners again!" spoke one man, a human.

Peter turned to them,. "Thank you, but I want everyone to have a chance to leave. Please, I can do this by myself."

"No time to argue," said Sergi, "here they come again!"

"Then get going Sergi! NOW!" yelled Peter as he aimed his rifle and began firing.

Sergi hustled the others up into a group and pointed the way to run. The four men and woman stayed behind with Peter and started firing on the Khynahs.

"How will the Warrior know where to pick the group up if you're not with them, Sergi?" asked Peter.

"By using this," he said as he took his knife and made a small incision just under his hair and painfully pulled out the tiny transponder. One of you will take this with you to the group. The Warrior will not be able to find you in time without it," he said looking toward the four men and woman.

"You five, get out of here! I have instructed the others what to tell Starfleet. Peter and I can hold them off. Hurry!" Sergi handed the transponder to the woman. She kissed him and left.

The men and woman left their rifles with Peter and Sergi and headed off in the direction of the others.

"Well, sir, it looks like it's just you and me now!" smiled Sergi.

"Looks that way," said Peter as he picked up another rifle and began shooting with both hands. Sergi did the same as the group kept running towards the hills of Den'a.

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

"Do not target weapons until I give the order, Mr. Sanchez," ordered Forrester. "I don't want to give the Romulans any reason to fire and start a war!"

"Yes sir," said Jesse. The tension on the bridge rose significantly as each person wondered if they would soon have two wars on their hands--one with the Romulans and one with the Khynah! No one liked a war with two fronts. His own mind swirled with thoughts of the prospect of battle. He took a deep breath, forcing his body to relax, his mind to clear.

"Open a channel, Mr. Sanchez. We'll try this again," ordered Forrester, in a firm, unyielding voice.

Jesse ran a quick hand over his board and replied, "Channel open, sir."

"Commander, Romulan vessel. This is Captain Forrester. Why are you powering up your weapons? We have not threatened you."

"Captain," began Cam. "I'm picking up----"

"Captain! Klingon Bird of Prey uncloaking and preparing to fire!" barked Jesse.

Captain Forrester turned around and faced Jesse. "Where did that come from?!"

"Sir, the Bird of Prey has just come out of warp," said Cam. "I just picked up their traces on our sensors."

"It's off our port nacelle, sir," said Jesse as the first volley blast from the Klingon ship rocked the Alliance.

"Evasive maneuvers! MacLaughlin! Is the Klingon ship sending out the correct codes?"

Cam quickly checked her readouts for the correct transponder codes which all ships were recognized by. "No, sir. Those codes are out of date."

"Mr. Sanchez," said the Captain, "Fire torpedoes two and four!"

"Targeting and firing sir," said Sanchez.

The first of the torpedoes hit the Klingon ship, causing minimal damage while the second one missed entirely. Jesse swore softly when he realized what had happened.

"Sir, the Klingons are sending out two more attack ships!" Cam reported, her eyes flashing from screen to screen.

"Evasive maneuver, Alpha 3! Fire phasers!" Forrester ordered in reply. His hand tightened on the arm of his seat, his blue eyes dancing as he thought and weighed options.

Another blast rocked the Alliance. "Damage report!" called Sinclair.

"Shields down 15%," responded Cam, "minimal damage to starboard nacelle."

"Smaller attack ships are attempting to flank us Captain," said Jesse. The Bird is on a collision course.

"Mr. Sanchez, Delta 4 evasive, and fire at will!"

"Yes sir!" Jesse managed to target one of the smaller ships and fired phasers, catching it on the port side. It sparked and imploded with a terrific explosion, sending parts of the ship crashing into the Alliance's shields. Another blast from the Bird of Prey rocked the ship again, this time causing sparks to fly on Cam's board--her curses echoed mutely.

"Damage report!" shouted Sinclair.

Cam fanned at the smoke which was rising from her board, "Shields down 47%, communications out!"

"What in the hell are the Romulans waiting for?!" asked Forrester.

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

The Engineers worked steadily amid the blasts felt from the battle which was raging around them.

"I sure wish we could see what was going on out there," said Twyla.

"Me too," said Yukuta.

"We're working as fast as we can," yelled Anna, frustrated that they had not been able to restore sensors yet.

"I know Anna, I didn't mean that you weren't," said Twyla. "I just don't like being blind is all!"

"I know the feeling! Hopefully it will be over soon," said Ines.

"I just hope we are the victors!" spoke Twyla, the others glancing in her direction, silently agreeing.

"Hand me that bipolar torch," Anna ordered, continuing her work.

The rest of the away team sat silently around them, waiting for the battle's end.

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

"What do you mean there are 54 life signs around the transponder?" asked Captain Margret Fulton as the Warrior swooped down into orbit around Den'a, fully cloaked.

"That's what the sensors are saying, Captain. Fifty-four humanoid life signs in the immediate area. Orders sir?"

"Khynah?"

"No, sir, not in the immediate area."

"How many can we beam up at one time?" she asked.

"Using the cargo transporter along with the main one, 22."

"Then begin transportation on my order," she said.

"Yes sir."

As soon as the Warrior was close enough to get a transporter lock, Captain Fulton ordered them to decloak.

"Begin transportation now!" she ordered.

In the few seconds it took to get all 54 people on board the Warrior, Margret Fulton, her ship and crew were visible to the Khynah.

"Sensors picking up two ships heading our way."

"When will they be within firing range?"

"In 6 seconds." The next several seconds were the most tense filled ones the new Warrior bridge crew had ever experienced. There was sudden and complete silence.

"Transport completed," boomed the transporter chief's voice.

"Shields up!" ordered Fulton just as the first shot from a Khynah vessel rocked the ship.

"Cloak and get us out of here!" she ordered.

"Captain! One of our passengers says that Yostrinkov and Captain Peter MacLaughlin are still on Den'a."

"What?! Where?"

"Not far away, only a few hundred meters east of their position."

"Scan for human lifesigns," she ordered.

"Two human lifesigns located. They are faint and surrounded by Khynah lifesigns."

"Beam them up immediately!" she ordered.

"But sir! We'll be sitting ducks for the Khynah ships!" cried Lt. T'Seri.

"As soon as we decloak, " began Fulton to her tactical officer, Lt. Russ Bingham, "fire a torpedo spread directly in front of both ships. Do not target the ships directly," she said. "I will not be responsible for starting this war! Decloak...NOW!"

As soon as the Warrior decloaked, Lt. Bingham locked and fired the torpedoes which exploded in front of the Khynah ships, temporarily blinding their sensors, enabling the Warrior to transport up the two humans.

In the few seconds it took the Warrior to beam up the two humans, it was rocked once again by another blast from a Khynah ship.

"Transportation completed."

"Shields up! Damage report!" called Fulton.

"Damage to our port nacelle, sir."

"Do we still have cloaking ability?"

"Yes sir."

"Cloak and get us out of here Ensign!"

"Yes sir," came the reply as the Warrior disappeared and headed back towards the Alliance.

"That was close!" said Ensign Bingham.

"Too close," said Fulton. "Now, tell me who we have on board."

Captain Margret Fulton quickly hurried to medbay where Sergi and Peter were taken. "What is their condition?" she asked the Emergency Medical Holographic Doctor.

"I'm afraid one is dead. The other is critically injured," responded the holographic doctor, "I am not certain if he will survive."

Margret Fulton walked over to the biobeds to see which one, Sergi or Peter, survived.

"Would you like a listing of their injuries?" the doctor said without any emotion, as was typical of a holographic doctor.

"No," she said softly, "that won't be necessary." Margret took a deep breath, turned and walked out of medbay.

"Captain Fulton to the Cargo Bay," her comm channel voiced.

"Acknowledged," said Fulton, making her way towards the bay.

She was met by an Ensign who gave her the message Sergi had given him.. "I want a full report Ensign on everything these people know. And get them anything they need."

"Yes , sir."

Captain Margret Fulton headed back to the bridge. "Send this message to the Alliance," she began.

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

"They are probably waiting to see who wins this fight!" said Sinclair. "And why we are attacking our allies!"

"They must have realized by now that those are not Klingons!" said Forrester. "Target Bird and fire torpedo spread, Theta pattern!" The Alliance quickly came up behind the Bird, locking weapons.

"Aye sir," said Jesse, carrying out the order. "Direct hit!" Called Jesse, just as another phaser blast from on of the smaller vessels hit the Alliance, causing a shudder to course over the ship.

"What's their damage?" asked Sinclair.

"The Bird of Prey has significant weapons damage," said Jesse. "Forward phaser array is out, forward launching tubes, out."

"Their shields are down in the forward sections as well," Cam commented. "I'm reading fluctuations in several sections. It won't take much to punch through. Sir I'm also reading life forms--they are NOT Klingon. The same garbled readings that we got on the science base.

"Sir, the Bird is pulling away from us. Shall we follow them?" asked Mallory at Ops.

"Hold your heading, Ensign," Forrester replied in an almost soft tone. "I want those Romulans to realize just who was the aggressor in this case."

"Torpedoes are reloaded and ready to fire, sir," Sanchez reported. "Finish the Bird, sir?"

"Finish her, Mr. Sanchez," Forrester said softly.

"Targeting the drive section," he paused. "Torps away!" said Jesse.

Cam counted the seconds keeping a weary eye on her remaining panels. Her fingers busily attempting to reroute some of her missing information panels to functional ones.

"Hit!" Sanchez reported.

"Damage?" asked Sinclair.

"I'm reading a warp co---" The flash from the main viewer blinded her for a moment. Cam blinked, turning back to her board she blew the acrid smoke away, "eminent warp core breech".

"Where is the other one, Sanchez?" asked Forrester.

"Heading 248 mark 3, heavy damage, loosing life support."

The quick flash caught Sinclair by surprise, "What happened?" she asked.

"Suicide charge,"Sanchez said flatly. "Self destruct."

Forrester let himself breath and glanced at Sinclair. "Not quite out of the woods yet."

"No sir, we have the Romulan bystanders to deal with now," Sinclair nodded in return."

Cam was beastly tired. Her fingers ached, her back ached her head ached. The Communications Officer looked as if she felt no better. They worked together under the access panel trying to restore communications. Cam was grateful that she had the ability to troubleshoot and repair. It freed up an engineer to take care of other systems, and it seemed like Engineering had their hands full even with minor damage to the ship.

Cam glanced at Captain Forrester who was standing behind the ops panel with Sinclair and Sanchez. They all looked beat.

Sanchez cast a weary eye at the viewscreen. He looked at the hulk of the War Bird, what was left of a once graceful and powerful warship. The breech had left very little. The junk left would be taken to a salvage yard and someday recycled into something else, unless the Klingons wanted it back. There would be few bones to pick for their meat. Starfleet Security would go over her with a fine toothed comb and glean every bit of trivial Khynah knowledge available. It was not a task for him. He was thankful for that.

The Romulan held her position, making no move.

"What have they been doing for two hours?" Sinclair wondered in a low voice.

"Waiting for us I suspect," Forrester sighed. "Stalemate. If they fire upon us then they have violated the treaty, and have started a war. As it stands, its just a violation, not an act of war."

"Ensign Pickworth reports that damage control is nearly complete on deck 24," Sanchez said after walking up the ramp and checking his boards. "And the bumps and bruises are faring well in sic- medbay."

Sinclair nodded in reply. "Well if they don't respond shortly, then at least we know we are capable of holding our own against them."

"We continue to wait. At least now we have short range communications. We are listening, they are silent," Forrester reminded her.

"There. How's that?" Cam realized that in the quiet of the bridge, only broken by the occasional twitter of equipment and an occasional verbal report, her voice carried. She looked slightly embarrassed, from her odd position under the communications access panel.

Ens. Skye sat at her panel again as Cam stood and put her tools down. Her quick hands ran over the controls, "Much better. Sir!"

"Yes Ensign?" Forrester turned.

"I'm picking up a priority message, subspace, from the Warrior sir!"

"Transfer that into my ready room."

"Yes sir,"

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

"--and that Commander is the situation." Forrester studied the Romulan face before him on the view screen. The image relayed little information as to the emotions of the Commander. His eyes remained dark under the typical dark hair. Forrester continued," I would suggest that you take this to your superiors and make them realize that it is not the Federation that is attacking your ships. Impress upon them the severity of the Khynah threat. Impress upon them as well that as a representative of the Federation I don not take lightly to false accusations. We do not desire a war with the Romulan Empire."

"I will listen to your words, Captain. I will take your information to Command. What they choose to do with it is out of my hands. I assure you Captain had we known that the Khynah had been engaging in "dirty underhanded tactics", the Romulan Star Empire would have sought a quick resolution of the matter. Out." The communications link went dead.

Forrester looked at his senior officers slowly, each in turn. Rebecca Sinclair was elegantly composed, her fingers twiddling on a nearby padd. He finally looked at Sanchez, "Comments Commander?"

Jesse looked up with an unmistakable glare, "Sir, what I am thinking is not fit for comment."

"Do you believe that the Romulans will respond favorably?" asked Forrester.

"Sir, I believe that they are doing lip service. The Khynah are going to affect them, of that there is no question. I don't think that they are all that convinced of the validity of the information. However, finding Khynah bodies on a Klingon Bird of Prey willhelp to convince them I think," said Forrester. "I believe that there is going to be a need for a diplomatic mission to make them realize that what we say is the whole truth."

"We have won the battle, but not the war," Rebecca said feeling philosophical.

"Not yet," Forrester said crisply. "Now, lower shields and let's see how our away team is managing.

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

CAPTAIN'S LOG 49803.30

Starfleet has attacked the Khynah ships which were taking their prisoners to Denji and retrieved all prisoners. They are being processed and will be returned to their home planets as soon as possible. Thanks to Crewman Yostrinkov's information, the Romulans have realized that the Khynah's were the ones attacking their ships as well and we will have no further trouble from them. Our Communications Relay Station is back on line. The crew was discovered as prisoners of the Khynah and have been rescued. They are going through debriefing as are all those who were the 'guests' of the Khynah.

A funeral was held aboard the Alliance for Captain Peter MacLaughlin and he will be remembered as a hero for giving us vital information regarding the Khynah's plans to attack other species and laying the blame on the Federation. It was all a ruse to weaken all sides so they could more easily take what they wanted. His body will be brought back to Earth for burial.

Crewman Yostrinkov is recovering nicely from his wounds and will be on leave for the next three months to fully recuperate from his ordeal. I am recommending him for commendation and promotion. His valor displayed in the rescue of the prisoners was exemplary. They said it couldn't be done; he did it. I am proud, and thankful. No one deserves what has been going on. No one.

All ships are on alert and will be making more patrols along the Khynah borders. This will not be tolerated again--this taking of prisoners and ships by the Khynah. The next time there is such an incident, Starfleet will immediately consider such acts as acts of war and will act accordingly by declaring war on the Khynah. I hope it will not be necessary as these last few days are as close as I ever hope to come to another war.

LOG OUT