The four craft flew speedily over the golden desert terrain. On the warm summer evening, the little ships looked like nothing more than pinpricks against the dusk sky to the battling ground troops below. Turning and rolling, diving and climbing, the pilots were bold acrobats acting without a net, engaging in a remarkable display of aerial theatrics. Even the smallest mistake by one of them could result in a sudden, merciless spiral to the hard earth. For two of the pilots, at least. The other two were in no danger whatsoever. But that didn't mean they were each feeling completely at ease.

"By the Prophets!" Ensign Kaleb Luvill cursed as his "wingman" pulled her craft alongside his at an unnervingly close distance this high up in the air. He looked across at her through his tinted flight goggles, and had to suppress a grin as he saw the pretty woman salute him from the cockpit of her Nieuport 17, some strands of her short red hair escaping from the cover of her aviator's cap and streaming out behind her. Her fighter was identical to his in all regards except the colors. Kaleb's plane was white on royal blue, while his friend had designed a primarily yellow craft.

The roar of the wind in his face and the hum of his own engine made direct verbal communication an impossibility, even at this close proximity. Kaleb instead spoke down towards the Starfleet comm badge he had tacked firmly onto the front upper pocket of his faded leather jacket. "Mish," he shouted into it good-naturedly, "you keep pulling stunts like that and you're going to clip both of our wings! And that'll end the fun real quick!"

Crewman Michelle Yosephian just shrugged at him from her cockpit, and he saw her mouth move in synchrony with the words that came to him from his jacket pocket. "So we'd have to start over," she said casually, and Kaleb watched as she peeled her plane away from his and circled back, chasing the dark Fokker D.VII aircraft that had just zoomed past them both. Just before the nimble Fokker had disappeared from his vision, Kaleb could have sworn he saw an outline of the Romulan Bird of Prey symbol inscribed on the side of the midnight-black aircraft. He allowed himself a smile and rolled his blue eyes. This is the last time I let Yosephian make additions to the program, he thought to himself. Kaleb Luvill was a holodeck purist. He wanted realism in his holographic recreations, not outrageous twenty-fourth century touches like Romulans manning German aircraft over the war-torn skies of World War I-era northern Africa.

Which was why he now turned his attention to the fourth airplane he was sharing the sky with, a steel-gray Fokker piloted by none other than the legendary German ace Lothar von Richthofen, older brother of the incomparable Red Baron. Kaleb had designed this holodeck program two years ago while serving aboard the Thunderchild. He had started by dueling recreations of average pilots and had moved on to better and better ones until he finally felt he could compete with actual aces. Over the last few months, he had begun to work his way up their ranks and was just now starting to engage in dogfights with the more famous of the Great War pilots.

The gray Fokker was coming in directly behind Kaleb, putting him in a compromising position. It was an error he credited to his own inattention while dealing with Yosephian's antics. He heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire behind him, and a second later a rapid flurry of bullets screamed between his two right wings. Thankfully, early twentieth-century aerial duels were much different than the phaser battles of Kaleb's own time. Otherwise, a slight redirection of von Richthofen's gun turrets to the left would have meant a sudden end to Kaleb's smooth flight. World War I aircraft, however, required sudden, short bursts of the forward gunnery unless one wanted to risk jamming the guns themselves. As a result, Kaleb was given nearly a second to react before the German unleashed his next volley.

Desperately, Kaleb slammed his primitive flightstick hard left and forward, bringing his plane into a momentary roll before sending it soaring in the opposite direction. As his plane came about, he saw a puff of smoke far in the distance, and could barely make out the shape of a free-falling object beneath it. The intense glare of the sun reflected in his eyes and he couldn't quite make out the color of the destroyed plane. But, he had programmed only four craft to take part in today's adventure, so it belonged either to Mish or the Romulan. Then, midway between himself and the falling craft, another fighter burst from the rolling clouds. The red-amber of the setting sun nicely complemented the bright yellow of the new plane. Kaleb smiled broadly. "Nice job, sport!" he muttered into his communicator.

Mish's cheerful response was muffled by the sound of doors opening. Not 1917-era doors, Kaleb realized as he recognized the distinctly modern sound. Somebody had called for the holodeck "arch."

Frustrated that his adventure was being interrupted at such an inopportune time, he slammed a fist against the outside of his plane. "Computer, remove only my plane and myself from the interactive environment," he shouted, quickly regaining his composure. Holodecks were, after all, only forms of recreation. He had to remind himself of that continually whenever he got too caught up in his holo-adventures.

Instantly, Kaleb's blue aircraft halted in midair. The engine continued to sound, and the forward propeller continued its broad revolutions, but the plane itself stopped all forward motion and came to rest. Kaleb reached for his flight goggles, which stuck for a moment to the Bajoran ridges of his nose before pulling free. He then reached up to remove his aviator's cap, revealing his normally-neat light brown hair which now stood up in a thousand directions. He threw the cap and goggles onto the floorboard, grabbed the sides of the cockpit, and jumped out of the plane.

He experienced an instant of vertigo as he saw the ground a full kilometer below rushing towards him. He immediately landed on the invisible holodeck floor, however. To the uninformed observer it would have appeared that Kaleb was standing in the middle of the sky. He spotted the "arch" several dozen feet behind him and began to walk towards it. Whoever had decided to interrupt his holodeck activities was just now stepping into view. Immediately, Kaleb's curiosity was piqued as he recognized the typical command-red of the visitor's tunic. And not just any command tunic. This particular one belonged to Captain Marcus Forrester.

Kaleb breathed a sigh of horror as he realized his new captain was unknowingly stepping directly into the path of the German Fokker as it continued in the pursuit of its prey, Kaleb's aircraft. With only a moment before the Fokker was to intercept him, Forrester turned towards the approaching plane. A quick expression of panic played across his face, followed instantly by a broad grin. Forrester jumped high into the air, lowering his head and and bending his legs as he did so, passing right between the two left wings of the craft as it sped by, and then landing square on his feet upon the sky floor. The gray Fokker continued its flight, firing at and then passing through Kaleb's unmoving Nieuport 17 before speeding on.

"Whoa!" Forrester shouted in a rare display of sweeping exhilaration. "I do love dealing with holograms." He glanced back at the approaching ensign. "How'd I do?"

From what little Kaleb knew of the captain's personality, he gambled that he wouldn't mind a little friendly ribbing. "Well, Captain," Kaleb began, standing at loose attention, "had those plane's wings been solid, you'd only have lost your left leg and most of your head." He was pleased to see Forrester chuckle at the truthful response. Kaleb knew then that he'd enjoy serving under this man in the months or years to come.

Kaleb heard the sound of approaching footsteps behind him, and turned to see Yosephian running towards them, her unmoving yellow plane "parked" a short distance away. While they waited for her to join them, Forrester looked down at the African desert far below, swarming with fighting soldiers. "Nice program you have here," he offered. "Earth, is it?"

Kaleb nodded affirmatively. "Yes, sir. Roughly four-and-a-half centuries ago. Their first world war. Fascinating stuff, really." Yosephian finally reached them, and Kaleb breathed easier knowing that his apprehension for having to make small talk with his captain could now cease.

Forrester smiled at the woman, who was fresh out of breath, first from the heated aerial duel and then from sprinting to join the two men. She pulled up alongside Kaleb and greeted the captain, who smiled in return. "Crewman Michelle Yosephian," he greeted her. He gestured with one hand toward the barely visibly plane wreckage below, which was just now beginning to exude small clouds of thick, black smoke. "Your handiwork?"

"Aye, Captain," she acknowledged proudly. "I got lucky and caught him in the chest."

"Nonsense. Luck had nothing to do with it. Nice shooting, Mish." Michelle had gone by the nickname "Mish" from the time she'd been a young girl. For some reason, the name had stuck, and nearly everyone who knew her used it affectionately. Still, she'd never heard it from Forrester before, but she took it as a good sign that he was beginning to take notice of her skills as a Security officer.

She smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, sir." There was an akward silence as she and Kaleb wondered if Forrester was expecting either of them to say something. Finally, the captain spoke again.

"You two are undoubtedly wondering why I've come down here from the bridge and am interrupting your leisure time."

Kaleb weighed his options. To disagree with the captain's statement would be an obvious lie. But to agree with it would indicate that he'd prefer the captain hadn't come down. That wasn't true, either. He decided to remain silent and let the captain complete his own thought.

"First of all," Forrester continued, extending a hand toward Kaleb, "I need to welcome our newest officer. Welcome aboard, Mr. Kaleb. Your duty records from your six years with Deep Space 3 and the Thunderchild are top-notch. I look forward to serving with you."

Kaleb extened his hand in turn and gave his commanding officer a hearty handshake. Inwardly, he felt a little guilty. While Forrester's records of Kaleb's three years aboard the USS Thunderchild were the real thing, his duty records from DS3 had all been faked by the classified Starfleet espionage organization to which Kaleb had belonged for three years after graduating the Academy. There was nothing inheritantly two-faced or unnecessarily false about the forged records. Kaleb had served Starfleet just as eagerly and admirably as a member of Section 31. He just wished Forrester could know the whole truth, that's all.

"Thank you, Captain Forrester," he stated gratefully.

"Now, second item of business. I know this is only your third day aboard the Alliance," the captain acknowledged, absently watching the lonely German Fokker continue to circle the area, "but I wonder if you're up for a mission. I've heard good things about you, Kaleb, and I don't think it's a coincidence that Starfleet has opted to transfer you here now, in the middle of the escalating Khynah conflict, during our hour of greatest need."

Kaleb considered Forrester's words carefully before responding. "I appreciate the offer, sir, but with respect, shouldn't this mission fall to a more experienced officer? Commander Sanchez, for example?"

"Usually, yes. But Sanchez is already tied up helping coordinate various aspects of the Khynah operation, which remains our primary mission. The mission I'm offering you isn't directly tied to the Khynah, but Starfleet believes it to be equally important in many respects. In fact, Sanchez himself recommended you to me for this. He's apparently already taken an interest in you, and thinks this mission is right up your alley. If you want it, that is."

"Mission accepted, Captain," Kaleb responded quickly. He needed no more convincing.

Forrester patted him on the shoulder softly. "See you in the conference room in one hour." He nodded to his two officers and proceeded out the "arch," which then vanished.

Yosephian was wide-eyed as she stepped over to hug her friend. "Kaleb, congratulations!"

Kaleb broke into a smile, which quickly turned to an embarrassed grimace when Michelle added, "Now if only you were as good with a Nieuport 17 as I am."

"We'll see about that," Kaleb laughed as he ran back to his plane. As Michelle watched, he leapt back into the cockpit. He eyed von Richthofen's plane, still circling lazily in the lavender twilight. The sun had nearly gone down now, but the Fokker was still visible and not too far off. It continued to close in as Kaleb waited patiently. Finally, he muttered, "Computer, freeze remaining aircraft."

von Richthofen's Fokker stopped, suddenly as still and vulnerable as Kaleb's own unmoving plane. Kaleb cooly rotated his forward guns into place and, smiling back at Mish, fired several rounds of ammunition into the enemy fighter's gray side plating. Mish giggled at his boyish theatrics as he jumped back out of the plane and joined her at her side.

"Computer," he said, "have the three aircraft continue the simulation."

Instantly, the three planes roared back to life. The two Nieuports continued straight on, unaffected for the moment by the fact that they were no longer being piloted. The Fokker, however, sputtered and slowly rolled into a nosedive, spiralling out of control into tighter and tighter circles as it descended.

Kaleb called for the "arch" as he placed an arm around Mish's shoulders. "Not as good with a Nieuport, indeed," he chided her playfully as they exited the holodeck together.

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

Fifty minutes later, Kaleb stood alone outside the doors to the captain's conference room, keying the electronic door chime. A quick sonic shower had ensured a return to presentability. His hair was once again neatly combed in a fashionable style, and he wore the striking gray, black, and gold of his newly-pressed uniform. The single gold pip on the collar still bothered him. Technically, his years with Section 31 should have resulted in a lieutenant's rank by now, at the very least. But, of course, his involvement with them had to remain classified, so no new rank had been officially granted by that organization. Still, Kaleb had served faithfully aboard the Thunderchild, and he had a feeling that his next promotion wouldn't be long in coming. Going on missions such as this certainly wasn''t hurting those chances any.

The doors parted, and he stepped inside to find Forrester, Sinclair, Sanchez, and Antos already spaced around the large table waiting for him. He nodded greeting to each of the officers and settled into a chair near Sanchez, who gave him a knowing grin.

Forrester, meanwhile, stood and moved near one of the room's monitors. "Two standard days ago, Starfleet intercepted an encoded message originating from the planet Yavaar II. This message appears to have been transmitted from an underground facility, located one mile below the world's surface."

Sinclair looked thoughtful. "Yavaar..." she muttered. "Isn't that one of the worlds recently discovered by one of our own survey teams?"

"Yes," Forrester agreed, admiring his Executive Officer's sharp memory. "Or, more accurately, Yavaar discovered us. Unknown to us at the time, Yavaar already has warp capability, though they've shown no evidence yet of having used it. As our survey team was preparing to leave their system, the Yavaarans transmitted a message to our shuttle which contained the basic math calculations involved with warp physics. We didn't know they had the means for subspace transmissions, let alone warp capacity."

Sanchez stiffened. "That doesn't make a whole lot of sense," he noted. "Something's not adding up here. How could previously undiscovered planet- dwellers know right off the bat that one of our main requirements for contacting them is a degree of warp capability?"

Forrester snapped his fingers at his Security Chief's observation. "Starfleet's thoughts, exactly, Mr. Sanchez. Which is why they immediately began putting together plans for a First Contact team. Starfleet assumed there was no good reason to worry about the cause of the Yavaarans' apparent foreknowledge of Starfleet procedures. Whatever it was, it would all come out in the First Contact process, and everything would be happily explained."

Kaleb shuffled a bit in his seat. He sensed a "but" coming.

"But," Forrester continued, "that was before we intercepted this new message from the planet's interior. Watch closely." He indicated the screen behind him, which began to play the recording.

There was a collective gasp from all in the room as a Vulcan appeared on the monitor, looking tired and haggard. Behind him was a bare black wall. The Vulcan was a male, old even by his people's standards. He was shirtless, and his thick black hair was matted with sweat to his forehead. He looked into the "camera," but it was clearly an effort for him to keep his head up for more than a few seconds at a time.

The Vulcan's hands stretched out in a pleading gesture. "Please..." he said slowly, his voice quiet and hoarse. "Help us..."

"Freeze recording," Forrester interrupted, and the Vulcan stood silent on the screen in mid-blink. The captain turned toward his crew. "Thoughts?"

Sanchez was the first to speak up. "How in the hell did a Vulcan get on Yavaar?" he exclaimed.

"Unfortunately," Forrester replied, "right now we have a lot more questions than we have answers. But, two things are certain. He is there, and he doesn't want to be."

"So it's our job to get him out of there," Sinclair commented rhetorically.

Forrested nodded. "Yes, but you haven't seen everything yet. Computer, resume playback."

On the screen, the Vulcan finished blinking before he slowly moved aside, to be replaced with a towering Jem'Hadar soldier. Kaleb couldn't believe his eyes. The situation with the Dominion had been resolved several years ago. There were still occasional reports of a Jem'Hadar ship or group of soldiers being discovered, but the genetically engineered soldiers were always found dead, their life-giving ketracel-white long depleted. To see a Jem'Hadar still alive, much less residing on an isolated world this deep into the Alpha Quadrant, was practically unfathomable.

Like the Vulcan, the Jem'Hadar soldier was clearly injured in some way. He was leaning on something in order to stand, and he took short quick breaths between words. Kaleb was intrigued to see that the small tube protruding from the soldier's body armor that usually indicated the presense of ketracel-white was instead flowing with a bright blue substance. "Founders," the Jem'Hadar spoke in a deep voice, "it is I, Rohs, your humble servant." He paused as with a great effort he drew air into his lungs. "I am imprisoned," he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was all that needed to be said. He then walked out of the picture, making room for yet another.

If the Vulcan and Jem'Hadar hadn't been surprises enough for the Alliance crew, the third speaker was downright shocking. A hulking Khynah strode into view. "I'll be damned," Sanchez whispered.

The Khynah was by far the least impaired of the three men, but he hadn't escaped entirely without injury. When he raised his right arm, Kaleb could see where all five sharp talons had been removed. There was also a fresh, gaping gash across the Khynah's chin. He spoke just one word defiantly, giving no indication of his wounds causing him pain. "Rescue." With that, the screen went dark, lit up only by the words, "End Transmission."

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

Marcus Forrester allowed his crew a few moments to gather their thoughts before addressing them. Sinclair beat him to it.

"A group distress call," she observed, "from three members of vastly diffent cultures. Interesting. So when do we leave to rescue them?"

"Well, 'we' don't," Forrester replied dryly. "Starfleet has too much invested in our presence here deterring the Khynah to risk sending the Alliance out to discover what's really going on on Yavaar." He slowly paced the floor, waiting to field the next question.

"A light rescue force, then?" asked Sanchez instictively. "Consisting of two or three shuttles assigned to beaming down and getting those people out of there."

Forrester visibly winced, tilting his head slightly. "Not exactly. Here's the dilemma. Starfleet has no direct evidence that the Yavaarans themselves are the ones responsible for the apparent abduction of these people. They're being held a mile below the surface, of all places. If the Yavaarans aren't to blame, and we beam down there, phasers brandished, demanding the return of these men, that's not going to bode well for our diplomatic relations with Yavaar."

"So why not simply take a cloaked ship in and beam out the prisoners?" asked Sinclair. "The Yavaarans, if they truly are innocent of these abductions, will never even know we were there."

"The prison is heavily shielded," Forrester explained. "Nobody gets in or out unless the captors know about it."

Antos queried, "Have we informed these three mens' homeworlds of the distress message?"

"The Vulcans, yes. The Khynah, no, for somewhat obvious reasons. And the Dominion, no, for reasons that I think are even more obvious. The Vulcan government has identified their man as one Ambassador Skoff. Skoff disappeared five years ago while on a diplomatic mission to the Tholian homeworld. The Tholians denied all involvement in his disappearance, but until now it had been assumed that they were holding him for unknown reasons."

"From the Tholian system to Yavaar II?" Sinclair asked skeptically. "That's a long way to travel just to be locked up."

Forrester eased back into his chair at the head of the table. "Tholians claimed Skoff never arrived at their planet to begin with."

"So where does that leave us?" asked Sanchez, clearly anxious for a solution.

"Confused," Forrester replied honestly. "Which is why Starfleet has given us orders to do something to amend that confusion. Two months ago, Yavaar II, via subspace transmission, requested a delegation from the Federation to visit them for First Contact. We're to send two officers to Yavaar under the guise of a First Contact team. That said, keep in mind that this is by no means a First Contact mission. Once these two officers arrive on the planet, their primary goal is to ascertain whether or not the Yavaarans are involved with this. If so, they're to find a way to get the Yavaarans to release the captives."

"And if the Yavaarans aren't responsible?" Sinclair asked.

"Then they're to stall for time, find out who is responsible," Forrester replied, "and then relay that information back to Starfleet Command, who will decide on the next course of action." He swiveled his chair slighlty and with one hand directed attention to Kaleb. "For those of you who haven't yet met him, this is Ensign Kaleb Luvill, our new transfer from the Thunderchild. He's got quite an impressive record and is going to make a fine addition to this crew. Under the advisement of Commander Sanchez, I'm placing Kaleb in command of this mission. Due to the unique nature of this assignment, Starfleet wants both members of our rescue team to be Security personnel. Mr. Kaleb, you have your choice of partners. I have faith in every single member of our Security Division and trust your judgement."

Kaleb had been anticipating this and had spent the last minute going over his choices. "I'd like to bring along Michelle Yosephian."

Sanchez nodded in agreement. "A good decision, Ensign. She's an excellent officer."

Forrester stood again and placed his hands on the table before him as he addressed his crew. "Anyone have any final questions or concerns?" No one did. "Then it's settled. Kaleb, I'll send the mission specifics directly to your quarters. Brief Yosephian on what's going on and you two will depart at 0600 tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

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

Kaleb was still feeling sleepy as he entered the turbolift. "Deck 18," he spoke groggily. He'd only had a few hours of sleep, spending most of the night in his quarters with a padd in hand. Much of the evening had been devoted to reviewing what little was already known about Yavaar. By all accounts, it was a spectacular M-Class world notable for its scarlet red clouds and pleasant climates. The Yavaaran delegation was expecting the First Contact team to rendezvous with them in the planet's capital city of Shona, located midway between the equator and the planet's northern pole. Yavaar circled very close to the system's twin suns, however, so even the poles experienced summer-like, tropical environments year-round. As one moved closer to the equator, the climate became increasingly warmer, so that the equatorial regions themselves appeared to be uninhabitable desert.

As the turbolift doors began to close, Kaleb saw a familiar figure running around a corridor corner. Yosephian had a Starfleet-issue duffel bag thrown over her shoulder as she raced down the hallway. "Open doors," he said, and they parted to allow his fellow officer. She smiled at him as she dropped her heavy bag to the floor. While he'd been busying himself going over information regarding Yavaar and its people, he'd assigned Yosephian to spend the evening researching First Conflict protocols, just in case they did have to call on some of them as they stalled for time on Yavaar. "Deck 18," he repeated. The doors finally closed and there was a hum as the lights along the walls began to roll up and the lift began its decent.

"So you ready for this?" she asked him.

"No reason not to be," he answered. "Forrester's got every faith in us that we can get the job done, Mish. And I think he's right."

Michelle's brow furrowed slightly. "I'm just worried that so much of this mission seems to be up in the air. We're going to be playing a lot of things by ear. I just wish we had some backup standing by, you know?"

"Don't worry," he comforted her. "Yavaar is in the same sector as Alliance, only a day's travel away by shuttle. We'll be in constant communications range of the ship, close enough where the messages we send them will only require a few minutes to reach them, and it will take only half that time for them to get messages to us. Our bases are covered," he added, using an old Earth phrase he'd come across in one of his holodeck encounters. "And besides," Kaleb smiled, tapping the phaser contained in the small compartment of his own duffel bag, "we're armed, just in case."

With that, the lift came to a halt and the two proceeded down the corridor a short distance before entering Shuttlebay 3. Kaleb and Yosephian greeted the shuttlebay crew, then headed past several light shuttlecraft and runabouts, walking toward the last ship in the bay. Yosephian reached the sleek vessel first and ran her fingers along one side of it, letting out an admiring whistle. "An armored defense transport," she said. "Never flown in one of these before." She finally noticed the transport's name inscribed along the outer hull. "The Hercules?" she asked incredulously. "What, are we expecting more trouble than mere mortals can handle?"

Kaleb placed a palm on a side panel and the door of the Hercules opened mechanically. He shook his head as he placed their belongings in one of the compartments in the back of the transport. "No, not at all," he replied. Then, with a straight face, he added, "I heard they just named her after her new pilot."

"Yeah, right," she laughed, settling into one of the seats up front. Kaleb plopped into the chair beside her and secured the door. Tapping his comm badge, he went through a series of preflight instructions with the the shuttlebay's flight coordinator. After a moment, the bay door before them began to rise, revealing the infinite starfield beyond as the bay instantly flooded with vacuum. Minding her own instruments, Michelle stole one glance back at the Alliance as the transport pulled away from it. "I hope we make it back," she sighed, mostly to herself.

"We will," Kaleb replied, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

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

"Making final approach to Yavaar II," Michelle reported, twenty-two hours later. Out the large window before her, she could see the planet revolving slowly, dwarfing the two suns far in the distance. Bright blue oceans covered much of the world, while the land masses varied between bright green and dusty brown. Roving red clouds dotted the surface in places.

As Kaleb plotted their approach vector, she continued explaining to him what her quick study of First Contact rules and regulations had revealed. "Yavaar II is a Type B world, which is actually fairly rare. Type B worlds are those that don't require undercover surveillance on the part of Federation personnel before being approached for First Contact, as a Type A world would."

Kaleb made the last course adjustment and leaned back in his chair, his last act of relaxation before what would likely be a very unrelaxing mission. "So what differentiates an A from a B?"

"Type A worlds are those that the Federation feels the need to investigate further before attempting First Contact. This may be due to lots things: uncertain political factions, an unhealthy economy, a world's religious beliefs, you name it. From what we know of Yavaar, it possesses few if any of those qualities. On top of that, they apparently already know about the Federation anyway, evidenced by their sudden contacting of our survey team. Wasting Starfleet personnel and resources on an undercover surveillance of Yavaar now would be kind of pointless."

The cabin was suddenly lit with a brilliant orange which streamed in the front windows, the result of the transport beginning its plunge through the planet's upper atmosphere. Kaleb tugged at his tight collar. "I just wish Starfleet had also decided to dispense with the need for these dress uniforms," he complained. Still, he reasoned, it could be worse. Several years ago, Starfleet dress jackets had been cut just below the knee. Kaleb found them to be much more reasonably tailored now and far less restrictive. Still, they were a nuisance. As long as he was complaining, he decided to add, "And I still don't see why we don't just beam down there. It would sure save a lot of time."

Michelle smiled at Kaleb's frustrations. "Because," she explained, knowing that her friend likely already knew the answer to his own question, "protocol demands that the initial First Contact team travel to the planet via shuttle, especially if the people being contacted haven't yet developed transporter technology, as the Yavaarans apparently haven't."

"Well, we certainly wouldn't want to scare 'em," Kaleb grinned. He glanced back out the window. The autopilot vector he had programmed was taking them skimming over spacious regions of lush, tropical forest. There were various small cities existing in the middle of these forests, and the Hercules was flying low enough where Kaleb could see groups of happy Yavaarans standing below, marvelling at the craft soaring above them which brought with it the promise of opening Yavaar up to the whole galaxy. Watching them, Kaleb wondered how many of them knew that their world had already been host to otherworldly visitors who remained confined below the surface.

Gradually, the forests began to recede, and Kaleb could make out a much larger city in the distance. As it drew closer, he was taken aback by its beauty. It consisted of dozens of tall skyscrapers, but he had no impression of this being a run-down, dirty place, as large cities often tended to quickly become. On the contrary, this Yavaaran capital city of Shona was a visual wonder. Its buildings weren't comprised of brick or metal, but colorful varieties of polished rock that looked almost crystalline in the beaming light of the suns. Adding to its beauty was the fact that the city itself retained reminders of its tropical origins. Trees and wide parks lines the streets below, and even the tops of buildings displayed a good amount of greenery.

It was toward one of the taller buildings that Kaleb now directed the craft. There was a large gathering of people on its roof, situated around an obvious landing platform that was layed out for him in bold blue and red markings. Kaleb resumed manual control of the Hercules and soflty set down in the center of the platform. He cut the engines, so that the only sound he could now hear was the resounding chorus of songs and cheers coming from their welcoming committee outside. He glanced across at his co-pilot, feeling the adrenaline begin to surge through him.

"This is it," Michelle said, smiling and putting on a brave face. "Now remember, I'm the First Contact 'expert,' so let me do all the talking for now, right?"

"Right," he agreed, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "You're the boss, Mish." He strode to the main side panel and tapped in a command, resulting in a sharp click as the door unsealed itself and slid open, sending a wash of warm sunlight into the transport. Each of them grabbed their bags and headed for the door. "After you, ambassador," Kaleb smiled.

He followed her outside, and they were immediately rushed by the two-hundred- or-so Yavaarans awaiting them. Kaleb noted that all the men were bearded, and each of the men and women were dressed very casually, all wearing short- sleeved shirts and most in shorts or skirts. A testament to the warm climate, Kaleb decided. Beyond that, the people were indistinguishible from Terrans.

Two men came forward to take the Starfleet officers' bags for them, while others called out greetings and questions in their native tongue. Exactly what they were saying was still a mystery to Kaleb and Yosephian, as it would take a few moments for their universal translators to pick up the Yavaaran language and accurately translate it. Already, Kaleb could detect a few words coming through clearly, such as "welcome" and "friends," as the universal translators began to make progress in deciphering the new dialect.

After a few minutes of this, the crowd quieted and parted, making way for two individuals who walked slowly towards them. One of these was a man who looked to be about sixty standard years-old, with a kind face and a long, white beard that stopped at his waist. The attractive woman at his side was much younger. She had long brown hair and arresting green eyes.

As they reached them, the man nodded his head and bowed slightly. "I am Kao, President of Yavaar," he said in an excited, quick voice. "We bid you welcome to our world."

Michelle was happy to see that the universal translators seemed to finally be working smoothly. She and Kaleb also bowed slightly to their host, before she recited, "Greetings on behalf of the United Federation of Planets. Today marks a historic occasion for both your world and for the Federation. We seek a future of mutual cooperation and friendship with you, and believe today will be the start of a new era of heightened prosperity for all of us." Her introductory speech, the first words uttered by all First Contact ambassadors, was met by more cheers from the Yavaarans. Kaleb peered over the edge of the building. Their actions were being televised onto a park's giant monitor far below, and he saw the crowd of thousands who were gathered before it let out a series of their own loud cheers. He had no doubt that everything he and Yosephian were doing and saying right now was being seen live by Yavaarans all over the world.

Kao smiled, and clasped his hands together in a gesture of thanks. He then indicated the young woman at this side. "This is Vice President Mohraan."

Instantly, Michelle tensed in alarm. The vice president's name was going to pose a significant problem. She only hoped that either Kaleb or the universal translator itself would be wise enough to avoid what could potentially be a very embarassing situation. Naturally, her hopes were quickly dashed on both fronts.

Assuming his most charming smile, Kaleb stepped forward and said, "We look forward to working with you, President Kao and Vice President Mohraan." Instantly, all the singing and cheering ceased, resulting in an eerie dead silence. President Kao stepped back, a look of absolute shock and disgust on his face. Not realizing his error, Kaleb looked at Michelle for an explanation of whatever offense he had just committed.

Michelle cringed. The univeral translator had mistaken his pronounciation of "Mohraan" for "moron," just as she had feared it would. In her mind she replayed the sentence as it must surely have been translated to the Yavaarans, then closed her eyes as she wondered how in the world she was going to get them out of this mess.

She fumbled for the words. "Our apologies, citizens of Yavaar. Apparently our translator has mis-translated the name of your vice president." She was very careful not to repeat that name again. "We sincerely regret any misunderstanding."

Michelle waited for what seemed to her like an eternity for a response from the Yavaarans. Then, President Kao began to laugh. Hard. This was followed by laughter from Mohraan, which seemed to spread like wildfire across the rooftop. In a matter of seconds, the entire Yavaaran welcoming party was nearly in tears from their uncontrolled laughter. Kaleb and Michelle shuffled nervously.

Still grinning from ear-to-ear, Kao took a step toward the Starfleet officers and clapped each of them on the back. "We find this very amusing," he laughed. "We like you. Come inside and we shall begin our talks." With that, he and the vice president turned and began to walk inside the dazzling building. The crowd of happy onlookers moved around behind the officers as if to usher them along.

Kaleb attempted to avoid Michelle's gaze as they followed the Yavaaran leaders. "You just had to cause problems, didn't you?" she accused him, smiling all the way.

Kaleb finally broke into a grin of his own. "Hey," he whispered innocently, "I just secured us a place in the history books, Mish. That must have been the quickest near-disaster in First Contact history." He beamed proudly.

"Congratulations," she sighed, and they followed the delegation into the relative cool of the building.

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

Kaleb sat on the deck located just outside the spacious quarters the Yavaar government had provided for Michelle and himself. The past day had been hectic. Their initial talks with the Yavaarans had been productive in that the Starfleet officers were now nearly certain that Kao and his government could not possibly be involved with the abduction and imprisonment of the men they were seeking.

One of the first questions Michelle had asked them during the previous day's meeting concerned their foreknowledge of Starfleet's First Contact procedures, particularly the warp capability component. Kao had responded quite simply that his people were, first and foremost, scientists. As a result of his people's incomparable scientific curiosity and knowledge, they had developed many technologies centuries earlier in their cultural evolution than most Federation worlds did. In fact, they had gained the capability to receive stray subspace transmissions three centuries ago, including one that had come fifty years ago detailing the Federation's First Contact procedures. These proofs of life elsewhere in the universe were initially kept a government secret, as Yavaaran scholars had no way of knowing if the beings they were hearing from were friendly or hostile.

As the centuries passed, and linguists began to gain the ability to translate some of the wayward transmissions the planet was receiving, they came to see that they had a wide range of galactic neighbors, some friendly and some not. Their scientists soon developed the means for transmitting their own subspace messages and achieving warp capability. However, fearful of encountering hostile aliens, the Yavaaran government chose to take an isolationist stance and refrained from using these new innovations. Then, twenty years ago, an idealistic young Kao and his followers attempted a successful coup and came into power. He spent the next two decades gradually preparing his people for contact with other members of the galaxy, which had finally come to fruitation with the unexpected transmission he had intentionally sent to the Federation survey shuttle several months ago.

Once Kaleb and Yosephian had concluded that the Yavaarans were unaware of what had obviously been unfolding beneath their world's surface, they agreed that this was not the time to inform them of it. It was a matter that Starfleet Command would probably reveal to the Yavaarans sometime in the future. This First Contact was a joyous occasion for the Yavaaran people, and to reveal to them now that underneath their planet's surface existed a prison of sorts didn't seem appropriate. Besides, though this was not meant to be a First Contact mission, Michelle was clearly enjoying her task of stalling for time, sharing and exchanging all sorts of interesting facts and theories with the excited Yavaarans.

So, while she continued to work with them, successfully maintaining her own image as a First Contact ambassador, Kaleb busied himself with discovering who was truly responsible for the imprisonments. He was thankful that Kao had insisted he and Michelle abandon their dress uniforms in favor of more climate-appropriate garb. Kaleb now wore a gray Starfleet Academy athletic shirt and shorts, while Michelle was adorned in a similarly light outfit.

He sat typing away at a portable computer that Vice President Mohraan had provided him. His first idea had been to access the Yavaaran world-wide datanet. He began sorting through various onine maps, hoping for a clue as to who might have ties to the area the prison was located under. Nothing. The surface above it was listed as being public property. One thing he did find of interest, however, was the fact that Yavaarans had made up for their lack of transporter technology with other innovations. Talented Yavaaran engineers had devised a vast network of underground tunnels which enabled travellers to board protective vehicles called "rovers" and actually depart at one location on the surface, travel almost directly through the planet's core, and arrive on the exact opposite end of the world, all in the space of a few hours. One of these tunnels appeared to pass very near to where the emergency transmission had originated from.

Following this discovery, Kaleb began searching the database for clues as to what Yavaaran organizations might have a stake in imprisoning outsiders and have the means to do so. He first checked up on the political party that Kao had helped depose two decades before. However, the records showed that in the years after their removal from office, most of the influential members of that party had come over to Kao's side and publicly thrown him their support. There were a few militant isolationist fringe groups that had voiced strong opposition to Kao's decision to contact the Federation, but Kaleb could see no way any of these groups could possess the resources to build and shield an underground prison, much less have the ability to kidnap off-worlders and place them there.

He snapped the small computer closed in his lap and glanced up at the distant Yavaaran horizon. The first of the two suns had already risen six hours earlier, and the second was just now beginning to come into view. The normally-red clouds now appeared almost purplish as they were caught between the weaker light of this dawning sun and the intense beams of the other. The sound of an opening door inside the quarters pulled Kaleb from his awed reverie and he walked back inside.

"Lunch break," Michelle explained as she sank into one of the couches. Despite her fatigue from the Yavaaran discussions, she was intent on finding out if Kaleb had made progress. "Any luck?" she asked him.

He shrugged cautiously. "I might have one lead," he replied, and explained to her the close proximity of one of the transit tunnels to the location of the prison. He showed her the maps he had printed out to help illustrate his point.

"Sounds like something worth checking out," she concluded. "How do we want to go about doing that?"

Kaleb sat down beside her and thought a moment. "You've been established as our official First Contact rep. For you to leave without adequate explanation would instantly alarm the Yavaarans. I, on the other hand, am viewed mainly as your assistant. If I were to slip out for a few hours or so, I don't think it would be nearly so noticeable."

"Just one problem," Michelle countered. "You and I are suddenly two of the most recongizable people on Yavaar. How are you going to avoid detection?"

He pointed at his stubbly beard. "Well, I've already got this, so at least I'll fit into Yavaaran society in that regard."

"That still doesn't cover that Bajoran nose of yours," she mentioned.

Kaleb strolled over to a closet and withdrew his duffel bag, from which he pulled a small med kit. Opening it, he removed a tiny, flesh-colored bandage, which he then placed over his Bajoran ridges. "If anyone asks, I got stung by an insect," he said. "And for the finishing touch," he said, reaching back into the closet and pulling out a hat, "I've got this." He placed the unlabeled baseball-style cap on his head.

"It might work," Michelle considered. "Just try not to get too close to anybody. I can still tell you're you under that hat and band-aid. Others might be able to, too. And Kaleb, may I give you one more suggestion to avoid being recognized?"

"Fire away."

"Turn that shirt of yours inside-out." Kaleb looked down to see the large lettering on his gray t-shirt, "STARFLEET ACADEMY TENNIS."

"A good idea," he smiled, slipping it over his head and making the correction. "Do me a favor and get a message off to the Alliance outlining our situation. Obviously, I can't be in constant communication with you while you're in talks with the Yavaarans. Leave your comm badge here set on "record" and you can playback any messages I leave you. With luck, though, I'll be back here by the time you return this evening. I just want to scout around a little bit, try to get a feel for the prison's accessability and who might be running it."

His academy logo now undectable through the reverse side of his shirt, he began to move for the door.

"Be careful, Kaleb," Michelle blurted, betraying a bit more emotion than she'd been planning.

"Always," he grinned, putting on a backpack which was stuffed with maps, a flashlight, a tricorder, his communicator, and his phaser. Stepping out the door, he glanced both ways to make sure no one was watching his departure, then walked out of Michelle's view. The door slowly rolled shut behind him.

Michelle tightened her hands into fists of helpless frustration. "Come back to me, you understand?" she whispered into the air. Then she strode to her own closet and removed the Starfleet long-range commuciations device. Scrambling the signal so it would be undetectable to the Yavaarans, she relayed the mission status to the Alliance before departing back to the conference hall.

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

Kaleb wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead as he stepped off the hover- train. He had boarded a train at a busy Shona intersection two hours ago and had then been forced to make a couple of train switches before finally being taken here, the rover station above the prison. Unfortunately, he was just now beginning to realize how far a handful of Yavaaran currency could take a fellow, and it wasn't very far. The train fares alone had wiped out nearly half his credits, and he still anticipated having to pay a hefty sum to board the rover so he could get near the prison. As he neared the busy station, he hoped he'd have enough to cover it.

Keeping his head down, he stepped into the long ticket counter line. Once every minute or so he would steal a quick glance around, and was glad to see that no one seemed to be paying him any special attention. A short distance away, he could see how the rover system worked. After arriving on the surface, a rover would deposit its passengers a short distance down the concourse, then would travel on tracks to pick up its new group of travellers. Once a group of fifteen passengers was safely aboard, the armored rover would roll over to a position above a large shaft, the entrance to the undergound tunnel. Once it had been cleared for passage, it would simply drop, literally free-falling and picking up speed before the automation presumably took over.

So far, Kaleb had managed to avoid any face-to-face verbal communication with Yavaarans since donning his disguise, but as he drew nearer to the ticket vendor, he knew that was about to change. This is going to be tricky, he thought to himself. Just keep it simple.

"How can I help you?" the large Yavaaran man asked him.

Kaleb slyly placed a hand loosely over his own mouth as he said, "Passage for one aboard the next rover." By covering his mouth, he hid the fact that his lips were speaking Bajoran while his universal translator was relaying his words to the man in Yavaaran.

The ticket vendor thought nothing of Kaleb's strange hand movement as he replied, "Yes, sir. That will be two-hundred and eighty rubes."

Kaleb cursed inwardly. He had only two-hundred rubes, which meant that this whole excursion had been for nothing. He'd have to go all the way back to his quarters and exchange more currency before having enough to access a rover. Not wishing to draw anymore unnecessary attention to himself, he simply shrugged to the ticket vendor and stepped out of line. Shaking his head in anger at his own careless planning, he began to head back out of the station, hoping he'd at least have enough credits left to book hover-train passage back to Shona. As he walked, he looked up at the line of ticket buyers who'd been waiting behind him. Just as he began to feel paranoid and started to put his head down again for fear of being recognized, he saw something in the crowd that brought him to a halt.

Kaleb recognized one of the men standing in line. Instantly, Kaleb pretended to find something of interest on the wall to his left. He strode over to it, then turned around to get a better look at the man. He couldn't quite place the face, but Kaleb was nearly certain he'd seen this man somewhere before. But where? He certainly wasn't one of Kao's people. But where else would he have seen this man?

Kaleb carefully examined the man's features. He was tall and bearded with cruel, piercing eyes. Unlike most people around him, he was not dressed in summer garb. Instead, he wore a flowing brown cloak. A broad hood covered his ears and hair. The tiny ocular implants in Kaleb's enhanced left eye suddenly gave him the clue he needed. The body heat this man was giving off was completely different from any of the Yavaarans standing near him. His was decidedly ... Vulcan.

Kaleb's heart began to pound in his chest as he suddenly realized the identity of the mysterious man now standing before him. He had never actually met the man before, but his name was now as clear to Kaleb as if he'd known the man forever.

It was none other than Ambassador Skoff, the Vulcan from the distress message.

Kaleb stood for a few moments just watching the long-lost Vulcan. His initial thought to run over to Skoff and announce that he was here to rescue him quickly passed. Clearly, Skoff had already escaped on his own. There was no other explanation for his presence here on the surface. What remained unexplained, however, was the reason Skoff was apparently now booking passage back underground in a location very near the prison he had so recently left. It occured to Kaleb that perhaps Skoff was mounting a rescue attempt of his own in the hopes of freeing his former cellmates.

Another look into Skoff's eyes quickly dashed the likelihood of that possibility. Kaleb couldn't quite explain it, but there was a very un-Vulcan element to Skoff's expression and demeanor. The humble, desperate Vulcan from the distress transmission had been replaced by something else entirely, and Kaleb intended to find out why.

He continued down the wall, watching Skoff as he approached the ticket vendor. Skoff spoke to the man in perfect Yavaaran, and it was clear from the interaction between the two that they had had dealings together before. "Two- hundred and eighty rubes," the man announced. From his vantage point, Kaleb could see that Skoff offered four-hundred rubes, many of which were pocketed by the vendor. Skoff then proceeded to wait in a short line by the shaft while his rover approached from the other side of the concourse.

Kaleb quickly rifled through his options. He could probably track Skoff's movements from here with his tricorder, but if Skoff did enter the shielded prison he would immediately no longer be traceable. That wasn't good enough. Glancing again at the rover shaft, Kaleb formulated a plan.

The rover came gliding in on its tracks and came to a stop to collect its passengers. One by one, the fifteen people in line for this rover handed their ticket to a station representative and boarded. Kaleb watched Skoff through the rover window take a seat near the front of the craft. Judging by the four or five rover launches he had witnessed during his time standing in line, Kaleb estimated that the rover now had about fifteen seconds before beginning its plunge into the shaft below.

Kaleb quickly jogged to a point just far enough from the rover to avoid attracting any attention from the rover operators. He stared at the floor, silently counting down the seconds in his head. Five ... four ... three ...

Then, he sprinted towards the rover. In mid-stride, he saw that he had slightly miscalculated the departure time, and he heard a booming click as the mighty locks holding the rover in place released their grip on it. Suddenly a slave to gravity, the rover began to fall into the shaft.

With a powerful lunge, Kaleb leapt for the descending rover. It had almost entirely entered the shaft, but Kaleb had angled his jump accordingly and he crashed into the top of the rover before it completely vanished. The little speed the rover had already attained threatened to leave Kaleb behind as he began to slid up its side. Desperately, he sought a handhold, anything to keep him attached to the craft as it plunged deeper into the tunnel. Instantly, he found one and clung on for dear life as the unrivaled darkness of the shaft enveloped his vision.

As the falling rover continued to pick up speed, Kaleb felt his feet swing out behind him. His hat flew off his head in the artifical wind generated by the descent, and he clawed with his fingers at the small handhold as the rover continued to go impossibly faster. The pain in his hands was beginning to intensify as he tried to hang on. He'd only been holding on for ten seconds when he realized that if the craft continued to pick up speed at this rate, he'd be forced to let go in a matter of seconds. The shaft winds roared in his ears as he and the rover continued to fall.

Then, he heard the reassuring sound of automation finally taking over as the rover was released from the sheer pull of gravity. The craft slowed a bit as the it came under its own power and its pilot regained an appropriate speed so he would have the ability to quickly halt the rover in case of emergency. The slight decrease in speed was all Kaleb needed to hang on, and he uncharacteristically mumbled a thanks to the Prophets as he continued to rocket down the shaft.

Now he could only hope that his gamble would pay off, and that the extra money he'd seen Skoff pass the ticket vendor had in fact been a bribe to ensure a stop near the prison. If that wasn't the case, and the rover was to continue its journey through the core of the planet and out the other side, this was going to be a fairly short ride. Unprotected here on the outside of the rover, Kaleb woudn't stand a moment's chance when the rover began to enter the planet's inner molten regions.

He was greatly relieved when after only another minute of travel, the rover began to rapidly slow down, then came hovering to a stop. He quickly climbed up onto the roof of the rover before the passengers inside could see him through the windows. Looking up, he could see just the tiniest pinprick of light in the distance representing the rover station.

He heard muffled complaints coming from inside the rover as passengers inquired about the sudden stop. The front rover doors parted, and he clearly heard Skoff's voice apologizing for the inconvenience as he stepped outside the rover and onto a staircase along the shaft wall. Kaleb recalled from his research into these tunnels that each included a set of stairs that extended from a distance four miles down the shafts back to the surface, used in case of extreme emergencies. Kaleb knew Skoff was experiencing no such emergency now and that this stop was a direct result of the bribe Skoff had made on the surface. Kaleb only wished Skoff had made his life easier by simply walking down the stairway to get here.

Peering over the edge of the rover, Kaleb could see that Skoff was still just stepping out of the vehicle, looking inside and apologizing to several loud, irate passengers. The lights of the rover illuminated a section of stairway below where Kaleb was perched, and he jumped down to it, his loud landing unheard thanks to the bickering inside the rover. Kaleb quietly took a few steps further up the stairs to get him further away from the rover's light sources.

Finally, Skoff exited the craft and the doors closed behind him. After a moment, the rover dropped again and was gone in the space of a dozen seconds. Kaleb huddled against the wall and stood in darkness, waiting to see what Skoff would do next. Finally, he saw a flashlight ignite where Skoff had been standing. In the bright beam of light, he could see Skoff hands remove an intrument from a pocket within his cloak. Skoff pressed a few buttons on this device, and a large portion of the rock wall beside him shimmered and then vanished. From his angle, Kaleb couldn't tell exactly what was inside the enclosure, but he knew that if Skoff stepped inside and then reactivaved the artifical wall, any chance Kaleb had of getting inside could well be over.

As Skoff began to walk towards the new opening, Kaleb rushed him. In the darkness, Kaleb was difficult to see and he noted a look of surprised horror on Skoff's Vulcan features as he heard footsteps coming at him but couldn't quite make out his attacker. Using the element of surprise to his best advantage, Kaleb picked the man up by his collar and shoved him into the nearby wall behind him, still not sure if he was holding a friend or an enemy. As Skoff struggled in his grasp, Kaleb whispered, "I'm Kaleb Luvill from the Federation Starship Alliance. I'm here to rescue you. So, you can imagine my surprise to find that you're already walking about like a free man."

Suddenly, Kaleb crumpled to the hard floor as something hit him in the back. Tensing against the pain, he rolled over to see four burly Yavaarans standing over him. Before he could get back to his feet, two of them forced his hands behind his back and stood him up. Skoff, who had also fallen in Kaleb's grip, rose quickly and began to knock the dirt from his cloak.

Finally, he looked up at Kaleb, and a very un-Vulcan sneer crossed his features. He backhanded Kaleb violently across the face as the Yavaarans held the Starfleet officer in place. He then ripped the bandage from the top of Kaleb's nose. "You've made a terrible mistake in following me here," he stated.

Skoff slowly circled around behind Kaleb and removed the backpack. He rummaged through its contents before hurling the entire bag over the edge and down the shaft. "You won't be needing that," he remarked, then addressed the Yavaarans. "Take him to cell B-three for now. I'll deal with him shortly." One of the Yavaarans produced a blindfold which he rougly placed onto Kaleb's face.

Then, Kaleb let his feet drag as the men hauled him into the hidden enclosure. He heard the shimmering sound of the artifical rock wall coming back into existence behind him.

"You're no Vulcan!" Kaleb cried out to his chief captor as he was carried down a long series of passageways. "Who are you?"

There was no reply. Kaleb heard a forcefield disintegrating in front of him, and the two Yavaaran guards sent him sprawling to the floor. He heard the forcefield come back to life as he yanked off his blindfold. The guards had left, and he found himself in a tiny white prison cell. Quickly looking around for any way to escape, Kaleb saw a figure huddled in one corner of the room.

The man was shirtless and bleeding, exactly as he had appeared in the distress transmission. It was his cellmate, Ambassador Skoff.

************ Michelle Yosephian hurried into her quarters, anxious to hear of Kaleb's scouting mission. "Kaleb!" she shouted, seeing no sign of him. She walked out onto the deck, but he was nowhere to be found. She swore silently, knowing he should have been back by now. Walking to her communicator which she'd left sitting on a tabletop, she retrieved it and checked for messages. Nothing.

She took her tricorder from her closet and began scanning for her partner. A non-medical Starfleet tricorder could scan accurately within two-hundred miles, well beyond the range of the location Kaleb had set out for. In a matter of seconds, the tricorder should have displayed his location by locking onto his Starfleet communicator. Michelle felt the first pangs of worry as the tricorder revealed no trace of his Starfleet comm badge.

"No problem," Michelle spoke aloud to herself to keep from panicking. "Communicators get damaged. Not a big deal." She varied her search to scan directly for Bajoran lifesigns. Normally, it would be nearly impossible to locate one person quickly in a crowd of hundreds of thousands. However, finding a single Bajoran on a planet of Yavaarans should be relatively simple.

Michelle frowned as the tricorder reported no Bajoran lifesigns. That meant one of three things. Either Kaleb was no longer in range of the tricorder, he was dead, or his signal was being shielded. Option One seemed extremely unlikely and the idea that he might be dead was just too difficult to imagine. Instead, Michelle focused on the possibility that he was simply shielded from her tricorder, which made the most sense considering what she knew about the underground prison's shielding. What still didn't add up, however, was the fact that he had entered the prison without her, not even bothering to leave her a message as promised. Something was definitely wrong here.

Michelle pulled her own backpack out of her duffel bag and began to hastily pack it with equipment. She was going after him.

She jumped at the sound of the electronic door chime. She quietly stuffed her half-packed backpack under one of the tables and signaled for the door to open, to reveal Vice President Mohraan, followed closely by two armed Yavaaran security officers. Mohraan entered the quarters while the men remained outside the door. Judging by the expression on her face, she was clearly enraged about something.

"Five hours ago," Mohraan said without pleasantries, "our security cameras recorded an unauthorized individual leaving the building." Michelle swallowed hard. She knew where this was leading. "After an afternoon of intensive scrutinizing and studying, in order to be absolutely certain of our findings, we have determined that the individual seen by our cameras is your assistant, Kaleb Luvill, wearing an unremarkable disguise."

"I assure you, Madame Vice President," Michelle began, "he has no harmful intentions towards you or any of your people."

Mohraan now stood directly in front of Michelle as her voice began to rise. "Then why the deception, Ambassador Yosephian? Why the disguise?"

Michelle inhaled deeply. "You have nothing to fear from us. Our primary mission here is to extend First Contact to you," she said, stretching the facts just a bit with that statement. "However," she added truthfully, "we have a secondary mission which I'm not at liberty to discuss with you before I'm cleared to do so by my superiors. Kaleb Luvill is currently attempting to complete that mission, which has no bearing whatsoever on our relationship with your people."

"If you cannot trust us," Mohraan replied harshly, "then how can you possibly expect me to trust what you say now? We have placed our faith in you for the last time." She signaled to the guards, who entered the room and flanked Michelle. Yosephian detected a note of genuine sorrow in Mohraan's voice as she added, "President Mao believed in you. I believed in you, and you have betrayed that belief. Guards, take her to the President's office. I have the regretful duty of informing him of this situation."

Michelle allowed the guards to march her out of the room as Mohraan followed close behind. She recognized the futility of continuing to argue her case here, and as they began their march down the long corridor, she hoped Kao would prove more receptive to the truth.

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

Kaleb immediately launched back to his feet and assumed a fighting stance. Why Skoff would quickly change his own appearance and then lock himself into a cell with his captive was a mystery, but Kaleb had learned long ago that it was sometimes best to throw punches first and ask questions later.

The Vulcan in the corner looked up at him and seemed somewhat intrigued by Kaleb's reaction. "You may sit down," Skoff said calmly. "I am not who you think I am."

A new possibility occured to Kaleb as he listened to his cellmate. "You're a clone, aren't you?" he asked the Vulcan. Except for his clothing and wounds, this Vulcan looked exactly like the man who Kaleb had just chased down the transit shaft.

"I am not a clone," the Vulcan replied. "Neither is the man you undoubtedly think I resemble." He gestured to a spot near him on the floor. "If you will kindly sit and tell me who you are, I will explain everything to you."

Cautiously, Kaleb relaxed and took a seat along the same wall Skoff was leaning against. "I'm Kaleb Luvill, sent here by Starfleet Command on a rescue mission."

Beside him, Skoff exhaled a sigh of relief. "Then it got through," he said slowly. "We had feared it might not."

Kaleb realized the Vulcan was referring to the distress signal. "Then it was you who appeared in the message?" he asked skeptically, still unsure of what to believe.

"Oh, yes," Skoff replied. "Mr. Kaleb, what I am about to tell you is complicated, but it is the truth." The look he gave Kaleb was full of conviction. "You must believe me."

Kaleb nodded. "I'm willing to try."

The Vulcan looked up at the ceiling as if searching his memory for the details of the tale he was about to relay. "I was born one-hundred and forty years ago on a Vulcan colony world. Unbeknownst to anyone but my mother and I, I was born half-Romulan. This fact was kept a careful secret from Vulcan authorities as I grew older and decided to enter the Vulcan Science Adademy, where I studied for many years.

"Early on, I made every effort to repress my Romulan side. I had been raised by Vulcans in the Vulcan traditions, and that was therefore the genetic side of myself that I aspired to and chose to follow. Meanwhile, my developing scientific skills were getting me noticed in the scholarly community. Before long, I had graduated the Academy with honors and began looking at career options." The Vulcan sighed imperceptibly as he recalled his younger days.

"About that time, in 2268, an extremely anti-Romulan sentiment began spreading through the Federation, more so than ever before."

"A result of the Romulan-Klingon alliance," Kaleb interrupted. He'd devoted a great deal of research to historical alliances while at the academy.

"Yes," Skoff confirmed. "However, I became outraged not with the Romulans or the Klingons, but with the Federation. Despite my best efforts, my Romulan side began to assert itself in retaliation, and I began to pursue Romulan best interests. This had to be done very discreetly, of course. Publicly, I had to maintain my quiet Vulcan image. Privately, however, I was fueled with the unrestrained passions of my Romulan heritage." Kaleb listened, fascinated with Skoff's confession. A Vulcan representative acting with the best interests of the Romulan Empire rivaled anything he had come across in his years with Section 31.

"I entered the Vulcan diplomatic corps," Skoff continued, "intent on bolstering the Romulan position by weakly representing Vulcan and alluding to Romulan Empire superiority in my diplomatic talks with other worlds. More and more, I began to embrace my Romulan side, until I actually offered my services to the Romulan Empire as a spy, a position they happily employed me in for many years.

"As time went on," he continued, "my hatred was redirected from the Federation in general to Vulcan in particular. As you're aware, Vulcans and Romulans are descended from the same gene pool. I began to use my skills as a scientist to look for ways to completely purge what little logic and reason remained in Romulan individuals. It was my hope to create a Romulan race devoid of even the most remote Vulcan attributes. It was my faulty belief that by doing so, Romulans would be free of the Vulcan-like hesitation that prevented them from storming the entire Alpha and Beta Quadrants and taking them as their own."

Skoff paused a moment to consider Kaleb's expression. "From the look on your face, Mr. Kaleb, I can see that you think me a madman. I freely confess that I once was, but am now reformed." He stared back at the ceiling. "To continue, I decided fifteen years ago to abandon diplomacy entirely and devote myself strictly to the science I just outlined for you. At that time, the Romulans Empire was enjoying an extremely uneasy truce with the Fedration, and it was decided by Romulan authorities that for me to continue my research within the Romulan border would be foolish in case the Federation ever found out about me. Instead, I was sent a preliminary survey of the planet Yavaar that had been taken by the Romulans long before the Federation had any kind of real presence established in this system. Impressed with the leaps the Yavaarans had been able to make unaided in various scientific fields, I decided to conduct my work here and recruit a number of Yavaaran scientists to assist me."

"So you faked capture by the Tholians and moved your research to this underground facility," Kaleb finished for him. While he found the events Skoff was recalling for him astounding, he was growing impatient with the Vulcan's decision to not yet explain the even more remarkable events that were not making sense to Kaleb.

"Correct," Skoff stated. "My work here progressed very slowly, and I began to feel that the scientific breakthroughs I wished to achieve might not be possible. I gradually broadened my horizons, and began to conduct other experiments on other lifeforms, merely for curiosity's sake. The Romulan Empire would discreetly provide me with living subjects from all over the quadrant to conduct my research on. The Jem'Hadar and Khynah you saw in the distress transmission were just a tiny sampling of the many beings I acquired. Then, finally, one year ago, I came upon the breakthrough I needed. Are you aware of an Intrepid-class starship called Voyager?

"Of course," Kaleb replied. Most every Starfleet officer was.

"A year ago," Skoff explained, "Starfleet declassified a number of things that had been discovered years before by Voyager while navigating the Delta Quadrant. Among the items declassified was the description of a medical technique employed by a people Voyager encountered there known as the Vidiians. They used something they called a genotron to actually split a Voyager crewmember into her separate human and Klingon selves."

Kaleb pondered this revelation, and it took a moment to absorb the shocking ramifications of what Skoff had just told him. Kaleb made the connection. "You used that information to create a genotron of your own," Kaleb said, "then used it on yourself to completely weed out your Vulcan attributes."

Skoff nodded in agreement. "I could have never accomplished this on a Klingon/Terran hybrid, as the Vidiians did. This technology is still far too advanced beyond our understanding for that. However, I was able to reconfigure the genotron to accomplish the much simpler task of sorting by phychological differences rather than physical ones. After many months of experimentation, I achieved my ultimate goal, creating two versions of myself, the inferior Vulcan version who is speaking to you now, and the purely Romulan version who you encountered on the surface."

Kaleb sat in stunned silence as the Vulcan put those finishing pieces of the puzzle into place. "In a way," Kaleb remarked, "you've become a victim of your own racial hatred."

Skoff raised an eyebrow as he considered that. "Indeed," he agreed. "Once the separation was complete, Skoff considered killing me before deciding to conduct research on me, instead. He now awaits the Romulan Empire's decision as to whether or not they wish to use this new technology on their current military personnel."

Kaleb thought it odd for this Vulcan to be referring to his Romulan counterpart by his own first name. "But you eventually managed to escape," he observed.

"For only a few moments," Skoff replied. "I used my detailed knowledge of this facility's security system to break out of my cell. Desperate for escape, I chose to free representatives from two of the most powerful races confined here to transmit the signal with me, in the hopes that one of our three homeworlds would receive the message and come for us. Knowing that we had no hope of escaping on our own, we returned to our cells before Skoff or any of his Yavaaran guards noticed we had been away."

"The Dominion is no longer a powerful force in the Alpha Quadrant," Kaleb pointed out. "The Founders, the Vorta, and the Jem'Hadar could not have rescued you."

The Vulcan shrugged carelessly. "I had been engrossed in my work for years, completely oblivious to such outside matters."

"The Khynah was a wise choice, though," Kaleb added. "His people have a strong presence in the area, and most likely could have broken all of you out of here in a hurry. Only problem is, they probably would have killed everyone but the Khynah prisoner."

"Then it seems we were fortunate that our transmission was intercepted by Starfleet representatives," Skoff replied simply.

Kaleb shook his head regretfully. "I'm not sure what good it did you," he said. "I'm as much a prisoner here now as you are."

Skoff looked surprised, for a Vulcan. "Then you are alone here?" he asked in a despairing voice. "You brought no reinforcements to assist in the rescue?"

"I have a transport standing by, and I have a partner on the surface," Kaleb responded, "but I haven't got any way to tell her where I am. Your Romulan friend saw to that."

"All is not lost yet, Mr. Kaleb," Skoff replied quietly. "There is a communications device in this very facility. If I were to find a way for us to access it, how long would it take for your friend to arrive and get us to safety?"

Kaleb considered the question. "Anywhere from twenty minutes to four hours, depending on her proximity to her own communication device."

The Vulcan frowned. "That is not very reassuring. However, I have no doubt that your fellow officer, a product of Starfleet training, will have her communicator with her at all times."

"Very logical of you," Kaleb grinned. He thought it best not to tell the Vulcan that Michelle had left her comm badge in her quarters unattended for several hours earlier that day. Besides, Skoff was right. There was no reason for Yosephian not to have her comm badge on hand at this time of the afternoon, particularly since she was undoubtedly still hoping for a message from him. "It sounds like you have a method in mind for us getting out of here."

"Indeed, I do," Skoff said. "I have been concocting another escape plan for days, waiting only for the word that a rescue team would be standing by to increase our chances. However, as in all things, there is no guarantee of success. Skoff employs many scientists and guards, none of whom will be in favor of our escape."

Kaleb nodded confidently. "If you'll worry about getting us out of this cell, I'll worry about getting us the rest of the way home," he said. "Once we get away from the prison's shielding, it should be a simple matter for my partner to beam us away."

"It will not be that easy," Skoff remarked. "The rock and earth surrounding this facility is comprised of minerals that prevent transporter beaming. We will need to get all the way to the surface before your parner can get a lock on our position and transport us."

"Understood," Kaleb acknowledged. "So when do we get started?"

Skoff looked at him with a gleam in his eyes. "There is no time, Mr. Kaleb, like the present."

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

The huge door to President Kao's large office closed behind Vice President Mohraan as she left the room. She had spent the last several minutes showing Kao the surveillance recording of Kaleb exiting the building and had then explained to him the threat these two Federation officers must surely pose to Yavaar.

Kao had remained silent throughout, a sad expression on his face as he listened to Mohraan's allegations against the off-worlders. Then, without taking his eyes off Michelle Yosephian, he uttered a single sentence to his Vice President. "Leave us."

Now that it was just the two of them seated at the ornate table, the silence was deafening. Kao slowly settled back in his chair and quietly clasped his hands together. "I wanted, so badly, for this to work," he told her. "For two decades, I have been preparing my people for contact with civilizations from elsewhere in the galaxy. I carefully searched through all the misdirected transmissions we received over the past centuries, painstakingly selecting the culture I sought to approach for First Contact."

At last taking his eyes off her, Kao averted his stare to the window. "I chose you," he continued, "the United Federation of Planets, because of the traits you seemed to embody. Peace, prosperity, honor, diversity, and honesty. And so we waited years more for a vessel of yours to come travelling through our solar system, and we reached out to you, and you reached back to us. You arrived here yesterday morning, and you were exactly what I had hoped you would be, and I believed I had chosen wisely."

He stood suddenly, returning his gaze to Michelle. "And now," he stammered, his voice rising and his hands visibly shaking, "to find that you are sneaking around on our world, trying to uncover tactical information about us..." He trailed off, at a loss for words.

Michelle finally stood and spoke softly and confidently. "Mr. President, over the years, you have believed in the benevolence of others in the galaxy when none of your peers would. Please, don't let those same peers sway you now. You have my word that Kaleb Luvill's absense has nothing to do with threatening Yavaaran society. In due time, Starfleet will reveal to you the nature of his mission."

She slowly began to walk toward Kao, and was surpised when he made no move to stop her from placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please," she pleaded, "have the courage to stand for your convictions once again. I have reason to believe that Kaleb is in grave danger, and I need your help to save him." She looked up into his eyes to see a single blue tear rolling down his face. "Will you believe me?" she asked him. "Will you help me?"

After a long moment's hesitation, he turned to her, a thin smile lining his face. "I believe you," he said, "and I will help you." He was surprised as Michelle quickly gave him an warm hug.

"My followers will not let you go after your officer so quickly, despite my endorsement of you," Kao warned her. "They will insist on further interrogation of you first."

Michelle smiled as she released her affectionate hold on the man. "Then we'll just have to get a head start," she told him. She lightly tapped the comm badge on her chest. "Yosephian to the Hercules onboard computer. Lock onto my signal and prepare to beam aboard two on my 'mark.'" She heard the reassuring chirp of the vessel's computer as it signaled that it had understood her instructions.

Kao looked curious. "What are you doing?" he asked nervously.

She assumed a position at his side. "You're about to experience your first dose of Federation technology, President Kao," she told him. "Just stand still and don't let the little blue lights scare you. Mark."

On that command, she and the president dissolved into the sparkling blue of the twin transporter beams.

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

Kaleb was surprised to find that Skoff's escape plan didn't entail beaming themselves out of the cell, but rather beaming something else in. "When I escaped the first time to send the transmission," Skoff explained, "I managed to acquire a very limited personal transporter, which I then smuggled back to the cell." He produced the tiny device from one of his tattered pockets. "As I say, it is extremely limited, so much so that it lacks the ability to transport through a forcefield like the one keeping us in here. However, it is still possible to beam between walls on this side of the forcefield."

Kaleb wasn't following Skoff's plan. Even if they did beam themselves further down the hall, they would still be stuck behind a similar forcefield that undoubtedly guarded every single cell in this prison section.

"Fortunately," Skoff continued, "there is a weapons locker located a short distance to the north, on our side of the forcefields." He keyed in a command on his transporter device, and in the corner of the cell materialized two dozen different weapons, from a Klingon disruptor to an Andorian ceremonial knife to a Starfleet type-2 phaser. Kaleb cringed when he saw the phaser, and wondered with a heavy heart if the Romulan Skoff had experimented on Starfleet personnel here.

"It's good to be armed," Kaleb pointed out, "but we can't phaser our way through a forcefield."

"Of course not," Skoff replied dryly. "Which is why I am beaming us over some company." He tapped a series of commands into the transporter again, and in seconds a stout Tellarite materialized into a corner of the cell. "Mr. Gar," Skoff said to the Tellarite, "I'd like you to meet our rescuer, Kaleb Luvill."

Gar stepped forward stiffly and extended a hand. Kaleb thought he detected a smile form under the Tellarite's short snout. "A pleasure, Mr. Luvill," Gar said. "I am a former engineer, specializing in various types of field circuitry. It is I who will break us out of this cell."

"Gar," Kaleb nodded at him in introduction. "Please, call me Kaleb. Now, let's see you work your magic."

Gar quickly moved to the weapons pile and removed a phaser-like weapon that Kaleb didn't recognize. He then strode to a position to the right of the forcefield and popped a wall hatch that was nearly undetectable. Punching a few modifications into his weapon, he inserted its tip into the hatch and began emitting a low-level beam towards some of the circuitry inside. After a few minutes of this, he said, "This is very tricky stuff. Lots of failsafes and false wires. But, I think I've just about got it." Beside him, the forcefield winked out of existence.

Kaleb picked up the Starfleet phaser, strode over to Gar, and clapped him on the back in admiration. "Nice work! You can coordinate my jailbreak any time," he smiled. Gar grunted and reset the settings on his own weapon. Kaleb turned to see that Skoff had picked up a Romulan firearm.

He heard footsteps coming from outside the holding cell, and two Yavaaran guards came charging in. Clearly not expecting their prisoners to be armed, they had not yet drawn their own weapons. Not wishing to risk alerting the other guards by discharging loud phaser fire, Kaleb stepped up the first Yavaaran and knocked away the weapon he was drawing from his holster. A quick punch to the face disoriented the guard, who Kaleb then grabbed by the shirt and heaved in Skoff's direction. He was pleased to see Skoff reach up for the guard's neck and execute an effective nerve pinch. The Yavaaran dropped unconsciously to the floor as Kaleb turned to the second guard.

This Yavaaran was slower to the draw and his weapon still remained unthreateningly at his side. Kaleb pumped his right leg in a powerful arc that swept the guard's legs right out from under him. He too fell to the ground with a thud and Kaleb hit him firmly on the back of the head with the end of his phaser to ensure he'd stay incapacitated for a few minutes.

Kaleb stepped out into the corridor slowly and saw that no other guards had yet been alerted to their escape. The coast was clear, for the moment. Skoff and Gar stepped out by his side. The prisoners in the cells surrounding them had heard the commotion and were speaking excitedly. Skoff proceeded to the far end of the hall and began working his way back towards them, manually shutting down each cell forcefield as he passed.

Kaleb was stunned to see the diversity and number of newly-freed prisoners who stepped out into the hallway. He had been originally expecting three: Skoff, the Jem'Hadar, and the Khynah. After hearing Skoff's tale, he had surmised that there might be as many as seven or eight. But now, as Skoff passed the last cell and freed its occupants, Kaleb counted over twenty prisoners standing in the long corridor. No two were alike. There was a Klingon, an Andorian, an Ullian, and a variety of other species, some of whom Kaleb didn't recognize. He even spotted a former-Borg who was holding a box that Kaleb assumed contained a Medusan. All of these prisoners had been injured in some way, undoubtedly the results of the Romulan's experimentations. Gar, meanwhile, stood by the door to Skoff's former holding cell and handed out appropriate weapons to each of the freed prisoners.

Skoff's resounding Vulcan voice cut into the confusion. "My friends," he said, "today we return to our homelands." This news was met with a quiet cheer from those around him. "Follow my instructions to the letter and we will be on the surface and away to freedom in a matter of minutes."

He turned to Kaleb. "We will now proceed to the communications device so that you may contact your partner." He walked to Kaleb's side as they began to lead their escape party down the corridor, weapons ready and eyes scanning for enemies.

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

As soon as Yosephian and Kao had fully rematerialized, she hurried to the Hercules' pilot seat and began a preflight check. Kao remained standing, open-mouthed, staring at his hands and rotating them to be sure they still existed. "Remarkable!" he exclaimed. "Direct transportation between two distant points. However do you accomplish this?"

Michelle smiled at his reaction to a technology she took for granted. "It's complicated," she assured him. "But," she added, "if your world applies for and is accepted for Federation membership, and I have virutally no doubt that it will be, you'll be learning about all sorts of marvelous new things that you never believed possible. But, for the moment, we have other more pressing matters to worry about."

Kao hurried to the seat beside her. On the monitor, Michelle called up a map displaying the prison's location. "I want to go here," she said, pointing at the glowing pixels that indicated the shielded prison. "Is it accessable from the transit tunnel that runs down beside it?"

"I wouldn't have believed so," Kao replied, staring at the monitor, "but I see no other way to access that location. The entrance must surely be hidden somewhere in the rover tunnel." He glanced up as he heard the sound of the transport's engine hum to life around him. "But, Ambassador Yosephian!" he stammered, "If you attempt to lift off in this craft, you will alert my people to our location and they will pursue you in our own Yavaaran defense aircraft."

Outside the window, the rooftop began to fall away as Michelle piloted the transport into the scarlet dusk sky. "I'm counting on the theory that they won't fire on us if they know you're aboard, Mr. President," she replied, not taking her eyes off the flight contols.

She directed the Hercules to a low altitude, expertly piloting the speedy craft between tall skyscrapers in the hope of making sensor detection by the Yavaarans more difficult. In moments, they had left Shona behind them. The rover shaft they were heading for was eighty miles away. As they left the relative protection the city offered them and pulled out into the open tropical regions, sensors detected three Yavaaran craft in pursuit. She patched in a communications line to the lead ship, then looked across at Kao. "Inform them of your presence onboard and of our peaceful intentions," she told him.

Kao did so, and was met with no replay. Michelle checked the message status. The Yavaaran pursuit vessels hadn't even acknowledged it, much less heard it. "They're ignoring our hail," she said disgustedly. She checked the aft sensors again. The three ships were quickly gaining on them, obviously designed for speed and maneuverability. The Hercules rocked slightly as a laser blast sailed into it.

Kao looked up at Michelle in alarm. "Do they pose any threat to us?" he asked her.

Michelle checked the enemy ship analysis screen. "Not directly," she replied. "This ship is well-shielded. We might not last long under heavey phaser fire, but laser fire shouldn't be much of a problem. This isn't going to make our rescue operation any easier though," she said as another laser blast bounced off their shields. "ETA : five minutes," she announced.

Her comm badge chirped. "Kaleb to Yosephian," it announced in a familiar voice. Michelle smiled broadly as she tapped her communicator to reply.

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

Kaleb could just barely hear Michelle's response over the sound of explosions and phaser fire going on all around him. Her voice was being piped in over the undergound facility's communication panel speakers. "Kaleb! Where are you?"

"In the middle of a jailbreak!" he replied loudly. "Where are you?" he called back.

There was a pause on the other end and Kaleb thought he heard the sound of laser fire coming through over the speakers. "I'm aboard the Hercules, en route to your location." That bit of news was like music to Kaleb's ears.

"I expect to have the prisoners to the surface in a matter of minutes for pick-up," Kaleb shouted. "Be expecting about twenty-five passengers!" An explosion near him drowned out the last words he'd said. "I repeat, twenty- five passengers! Due to the geology here, you won't be able to get a transporter lock on us until we have reached top of the rover shaft."

Any response Michelle was making was cut off when the a laser beam originating from behind Kaleb destroyed the communication speakers. Kaleb quickly turned to see a Yavaaran guard hiding behind another console. Suddenly, the Yavaaran dived back out from behind the cover and fired another shot at Kaleb, who rolled out of the way. Kaleb retrieved his phaser and lanced out with a shot of his own, which connected with the Yavaaran's shoulder, sending him toppling over the console.

Kaleb sprinted back out of the communications center and back down a long hallway. The floor around him was littered with the dead and dying, both Yavaarans and former-prisoners. Kaleb scanned the bodies for either of the Skoffs, but saw niether. Near the end of the passage he stumbled across the Andorian he'd seen before. She had a black laser burn in the center of her chest, but Kaleb could see that she would recover if given the chance. He hoisted the barely-conscious Andorian into his arms and began to carry her out. He was appalled to note that one of the her small blue antennas had been removed, undoubtedly the result of one of Skoff's research projects.

Carrying his heavy burden into the main laboratory, Kaleb found the Vulcan Skoff and the other surviving prisoners waiting for him, continuing to hold off the seemingly infinite waves of Yavaaran guards and scientists who were attempting to prevent the escape. Kaleb unloaded the wounded Andorian into the strong arms of the Klingon who offered his assistance, then ran over to Skoff. "There will be a craft awaiting us on the surface. How many more guards?" he cried out over the whine of the various phaser and laser weapons.

"Not many," Skoff replied. "We have picked nearly all of them off, now. We should be clear to make our ascent to the surface in a few more moments." He fired another blast at an approaching Yavaaran.

"Any sign of the Romulan?" Kaleb asked.

Skoff ducked quickly as a blast flew over his head. "Yes," he said, pointing back over his shoulder at the cave's entrance. Kaleb could see that the artificial rock wall had already been removed, and he saw the darkness of the rover shaft outside. "Skoff managed to get out the door, but our Khynah friend was able to cut him off," the Vulcan yelled. "Skoff was forced to take the stairway leading down instead of up, and the Khynah pursued him."

"Has the Khynah returned yet?" Kaleb inquired.

"No," Skoff replied. There was an unusually long silence as no shots were fired. He stood up and took a look around. "The coast would seem to be clear," he commented. He pointed at the Jem'Hadar soldier a few meters away and addressed him by name. "Rohs! Take a team and make sure there are no more Yavaarans in hiding."

Rohs followed Skoff's instructions and returned several minutes later. "There are no more, Vulcan," Rohs reported.

Skoff walked to the center of the room and began to organize the final leg of their long journey towards freedom. "My friends," he shouted to them, "our success is nearly complete. All that remains is our trip to the surface." He pointed back to the entrance. "Out that opening, you will find a narrow stairway. Follow it to the left and up to freedom. I will be right behind you."

The excited men and women began to file out the door and onto the stairway. When the last of them had began their ascent, Kaleb stood with the Vulcan outside the facility's entrance. Skoff looked down the staircase into the impenetrable darkness. "I must be sure my Romulan half is dead," he said, and slowly began to walk down the stairs, drawing his weapon.

He was stopped by Kaleb's strong hand on his shoulder. "Illogical," Kaleb said, trying to appeal to the Vulcan on grounds he'd understand. "Let's say the Romulan somehow has managed to defeat that Khynah down there. Why would you, a century-and-a-half year-old Vulcan, fare any better against him?"

Kaleb saw the hesitation in Skoff's eyes. "His actions are my own," Skoff replied softly. "I am responsible for stopping him."

"No," Kaleb argued, "your responsibility is to your former cellmates. Whatever monster you once were to them, today you are their friend. Go. See that they make it to the surface safely. Leave the Romulan to me. He's my responsibility now."

Skoff nodded at the Starfleet security officer as he acknowledged the wisdom of his words. He revealed an extra flashlight that he'd taken from the facility and tossed it to Kaleb. "You'll need this, my friend. See you on the surface." Igniting his own light, the Vulcan turned and slowly began his mile-long trek to the top of the shaft.

Kaleb checked his phaser settings, then pivoted around in the other direction and began his descent farther down into the darkness.

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

The Starfleet Armored Defense Transport Hercules flew steadily onward. The three Yavaaran ships had completely caught up with it now, and were flying around it like poisonous insects as it approached its destination.

Michelle cursed, not for the first time that hour. "We've got to find a way to get those ships off of us," she said in frustration.

"But, why?" Kao asked innocently. "Can't we just beam up these people you seek, just as you beamed us here from my office? What does it matter that my people are firing ineffective weapons at us?"

"Beaming technology requires that our shields be down, Mr. President," she explained. "And I assure you, those ineffective lasers would suddenly become very effective if they didn't have to go through our shields. I was anticipating having to drop shields for only a few seconds to beam up four or five people, but according to Kaleb's transmission, we're looking at transporting upwards of twenty. That's going to require a couple of minutes with the shields down, and we won't last long with three ships blanketing us with lasers during that time."

Kao began to understand their dilemma. "Ambassador Yosephian," he said, "is there any way you could shoot down our pursuers without harming the pilots inside?"

Michell nodded. "Probably, but I'm not willing to risk it. One misplaced shot and I trigger a diplomatic catastrophe." Not that I haven't come close to doing that already, she thought to herself.

"Then what do you intend to do?" he asked.

Her shoulder-length red hair stayed neatly in place as she quickly turned her head in his direction. "I'm going to land us and hope they decide to take this craft intact rather than destroy it."

Out the window, she could make out the rover station on the ground just coming into view. Easing back on the throttle, she slowly eased the Hercules to a landing just outside the station's entrance. She was relieved to see that the Yavaaran craft had ceased firing.

"Open the door," Kao exclaimed, "quickly!"

Michelle did so, and the Yavaaran leader bounded outside, waving his arms to the craft still circling overhead to ensure that they would not fire again. Satisfied that they had recognized him, he stepped back into the cockpit. "We are safe," he assured her. "I have waved them off. You may commence beaming when ready."

Michelle cut the engine and lowered the shields. "We're close enough now where it would be faster just to find them and walk them in." She checked the map one last time to get her bearings, then opened a forward compartment and drew a phaser, just in case. "Let's go!"

The two began to enter through the station doors, but were met by the sight of hundreds of Yavaarans running towards them, trying to get out. "What's going on?" Kao asked her.

"My guess is they just had their first glimpse of about twenty new alien races, and are frightened to death," she smiled. "Instruct them to get as far away from this station as possible. We have no idea who might be in pursuit of the people we're rescuing or how powerful they are."

As the oncoming Yavaarans recognized their president, they skidded to a halt. In a booming voice, he calmly assured them that they had nothing to fear from the beings they had just encountered, but that it was in their best interests to get as far away as possible, immediately. This statement was met with no resistance as the Yavarrans hastily resumed their exit.

Alone once more, Kao and Michelle continued on into the newly-deserted station. There, beside one of the rover shafts, she saw a Bolian man and a Cardassian woman standing, helping a variety of others as they exited up the shaft's side staircase. Michelle broke into a run. "I'm Michelle Yosephian of the Starship Alliance," she announced to the former-prisoners. "I'm here to help you!"

She and Kao assisted the remaining beings as they emerged from the tunnel. She took a quick count. Eighteen in all. But no sign of either Kaleb or the Vulcan and Khynah from the original distress transmission.

Then, Skoff slowly emerged from the tunnel and picked out Michelle's Starfleet comm badge in the crowd. "Your friend," he told her, "should be here soon. He is taking care of some unfinished business."

Michelle's first instinct was to charge down the stairs and help Kaleb with whatever "business" he had yet to finish. But her priority now was to get these people to safety. "Kao," she shouted to the Yavaaran, "take these people to the transport and get them boarded. I'll be along shortly."

Kao did so, and Michelle was left alone in the quiet station. Again, the urge to charge down after her friend came to her, but if he was in danger, she would be reckless to place herself in the same threatening situation. The people outside needed a pilot who could get them to safety, especially if any of their captors were still alive and following them.

So, she sat alertly by the edge of the shaft, hoping and waiting.

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

Kaleb kept his flashlight off as he cautiously proceeded down the shaft. It was silent, the only sounds being the occasional howl of a rover as it rushed by and the ghostly winds it left in its wake. He walked in complete darkness, but he found that preferable to alerting the Romulan to his presence if in fact the scientist still lived. The ideal situation would be to find the Khynah coming up the stairs towards him, telling him of his glorious battle and how he had finally defeated Skoff. Somehow, though, Kaleb knew that wasn't what he was going to find.

He wasn't completely a victim of the darkness. The ocular implants in his artificial left eye provided him with limited sensory information. He knew his search wouldn't last much longer. The staircase only existed for about three miles below the entrance to Skoff's facility before it dropped off into nothingness. Kaleb estimated that he'd already covered a full mile since parting ways with the Vulcan. Whatever he was going to find, he would find it soon.

It was then that his enhanced eye detected far ahead of him the bright glowing reds and oranges associated with a living being. Kaleb approached cautiously until he stood directly over the body. He gazed further down the stairs, but could detect no sign of anyone else in the vicinity. He turned on the beams of his flashlight and directed it down at the body laying on the stairway below him. With dismay, he realized that it was the Khynah. He was half- conscious, his own Khynah blade hammered unmercifully into his chest. The wound was clearly fatal, and Kaleb guessed that the Khynah soldier had only a few more minutes to live without medical attention, which Kaleb was helpless to provide this far down in the shaft without any medical supplies. In sympathy, he turned the Khynah's head away before drawing his phaser and putting the warrior out of his misery.

Rage suddenly consumed Kaleb as he considered all the atrocities the Romulan had committed. "Skoff!" he shouted in his loudest voice. The echo reverberated in the tunnel to produce an eerie effect. "Show yourself!"

Of course, the Romulan, if he was nearby, didn't come out of hiding. Kaleb kept his flashlight on, gripped his phaser tightly, and continued down the stairs. He hadn't taken ten steps when a hand reached out from under the staircase and caught his leg in a vise-like grip. The hand yanked on him, and he was brought crashing down onto the stairway. The flashlight and phaser flew out of Kaleb's hands, the phaser skittering onto the steel stairs and then over the side into the void below. The flashlight landed a few stairs above him and spun around to a halt, casting its powerful beam onto the near wall.

The reflection of the light off the rock wall softly illuminated the surroundings, and as Kaleb recovered from his fall and spun around, he could clearly see the Romulan Skoff swinging up from under the stairway and then walking towards him. Kaleb leapt to his feet, letting loose with a poorly- timed jab that Skoff actually caught in his own hand and then twisted. Kaleb cried out as the pain shot up his arm, but then turned that pain into motivation as he quickly shifted his body and threw Skoff off-balance, forcing the Romulan to release his grip and limp a few steps down the stairs. Clearly, the Khynah had managed to injure the Romulan before Skoff had finally gained the upper-hand on him.

Cradling his own injured arm, Kaleb shouted at the Romulan, "There are Starfleet personnel on the surface waiting to take you into custody! You have no hope of escape! Give yourself up willingly now or I won't hesitate to kill you where you stand!"

Skoff merely laughed at him. "I invite you to try," he said cooly. "But there are other matters at hand, far more pressing in importance." He paused a moment to consider his opponent. "Do you really think I'd allow all my research, all my data that I've accumulated over the decades, to fall into Federation hands?"

"It already has," Kaleb replied defiantly. "Your Vulcan counterpart is arriving safely on the surface as we speak. He carries with him all your memories, every detail of your twisted experiments."

"Ha!" Skoff exclaimed, apparently amused by the whole situation. "He is as guilty as I am!" He paused as a rover sped down the shaft, then shouted over the resulting winds, "Who better than a Vulcan to see the illogic in incriminating oneself?"

"I'm not here to debate Vulcan morality with you," Kaleb yelled angrily. "Do you surrender yourself to the authority invested in me by Starfleet or not?"

"Not," Skoff replied casually. He stared at Kaleb with wide eyes. "It really matters very little. You and I only have a few more moments to live."

Kaleb immediately understood what the Romulan scientist was implying. "A self-destruct device in your laboratory?" he accused.

Skoff smiled in confirmation. "Regrettably, I had hoped to be far from here by the time it went off, but my Khynah friend spoiled that little plan. He payed dearly for that," he added, staring ahead at the Khynah's lifeless body. He finally turned his gaze back to Kaleb. "So now we die."

Kaleb began to backpedal up the stairs. "How long?!" he yelled.

The Romulan glanced down at a small chronometer on his wrist. "Seven minutes, thirty-eight seconds," he said triumphantly. "An eternity, if you have two miles to traverse."

Kaleb turned away and began bolting up the stairs as fast as his feet would take him. Of course, Skoff was right. No one could cover two miles in the time he had. But he refused to simply give up and accept his fate as the Romulan apparently had. Skoff's maniacal laughter carried up the shaft to him as he hurried away.

As he ran, hope suddenly erupted in his mind as he considered his one way to get out of this alive. He'd leap for the next rover that came down, ride it a couple of miles, and then leap back off near the staircase's bottom. Hopefully that would place him far enough away from the blast to keep him alive until help could arrive. The chances that he'd successfully be able to jump onto a rover falling at full speed were thin, the odds that he'd be able to jump back onto the stairway from a moving rover were even slimmer, and the chances that even if he did achieve those two feats he would be safe from a massive explosion going off just three miles above him were slimmer still, but it was his only option.

As he continued to race up the shaft, he listened for the sound of an approaching rover, but that sound never came. Two minutes later, Kaleb continued up the stairs, but there was no sign of the rover that should have reached him by now. It appeared that the odds were firmly stacked against him this time. For some reason, the rovers were no longer running, and he wasn't even going to get one last desperate chance at escape.

Then he saw it. A single rover, fifty paces above him, just hovering in place. Kaleb increased his speed, despite the fact that he felt his lungs were on the point of bursting. He had lost all track of the seconds ticking away, but he knew he was getting low on time as he reached the rover and pounded on its outer doors.

The doors opened to reveal a single occupant, the Yavaaran pilot. Instantly, the pilot recognized him from the First Contact coverage and an awed look came over his face as Kaleb bounded into the rover.

"I'll explain later!" Kaleb shouted as the doors closed behind him. "Now get this thing moving!"

"I...I can't!" the pilot sputtered. "I don't know what happened, but I dropped my passengers off, came to the pick-up location, and there were no passengers to board. The station was practically deserted up there, and no one was working the departure gate! Next thing I know, my rover is dropped down the shaft and I get stalled here. Must be some sort of emergency stop implemented once the computer realized that nobody is minding the controls upstairs!"

Kaleb quickly reviewed this new information. "You say we can't go forward," he said urgently. "What about backward?"

"Against safety regulations," the pilot replied with a shrug.

Kaleb considered their location in the tunnel. They were close enough to the surface that it was unlikely another rover had been dropped behind this one before the transit system had been shut down. "This tunnel isn't going to exist in three minutes!" he informed the pilot. "Now turn this thing around and get us to the surface!"

The pilot was convinced. His hands flew over the controls and the rover began to back out of the shaft. "Faster!" Kaleb commanded.

"This is as fast as "reverse" goes, sir!" replied the Yavaaran, clearly recognizing Kaleb's otherworldy authority. Kaleb stared out the side window, painfully aware of the fact that they were backing out of the tunnel only about half as fast as a rover could go when moving forward.

Seconds seemed like minutes in Kaleb's mind as he wondered how long they had before Skoff's self-destruct sequence finished the countdown. Finally, the rover reached the surface and settled into the locking mechanism. The pilot quickly opened the doors and he and Kaleb jumped out onto the station floor. Michelle was standing nearby with a smile on her face, which quickly turned to a look of alarm as she saw the panic in his eyes. He took her by the arm and the three ran out the station doors into the purple twilight outside.

"Over there!" Michelle shouted, pointing them to the transport. She had no idea what they were running from, but recognized the importance of getting away from it as quickly as possible. The trio bolted towards the sleek vessel.

Kao had the door standing open for them, and as they approached, Michelle could see that all of the rescued were safely aboard, if somewhat cramped in the restricitve size of the Hercules. She, Kaleb, and the confused Yavaaran pilot dove into the transport, then Kaleb worked on securing the door as Michelle resumed the main pilot's chair.

"Go, go!" he shouted as he heard the snap of the transport's door locking into place. "Get to high altitude!" The engines were still warm from their recent arrival, so it took only a moment for Michelle to have them off the ground. They hadn't been in the air for more than ten seconds when the explosion rocked the ground below them.

Out the front window, Kaleb watched as roaring walls of flame engulfed the station far below them and spread out across the surface of the planet for nearly a mile. The crashing volume of the explosion was nearly unbearable, even at this distance. Kaleb couldn't believe the far-reaching impact of Skoff's self-destruct device. Whatever physical evidence of his research the Romulan had wished to remain a mystery, he had seen to its secrecy. Nothing could have survived being in the middle of that blast, not even in pieces.

Kaleb at last allowed himself to lean back in his chair as Michelle veered the Hercules back in the direction of the planet's capital city. He wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. The adrenaline was still coursing through him as he turned to his copilot and gave her a well-deserved hug. "Nice flying, Mish," he whispered into her ear. Before she could reply, a voice rang out from the back of the transport.

It was Skoff, addressing his peers. "You are free," he announced in a solid voice as the cheers began to ring out. "We are all free."

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

One week later, Ensign Kaleb Luvill stood on a holographic tennis court, staring down his opponent, Crewman Michelle Yosephian. The days following the successful flight to freedom had seen many events unfold. The Federation had sent an official First Contact team back to Yavaar to smooth out any diplomatic relations that might have been upset by the misunderstood incidents of the days before. All had been explained and forgiven, and President Kao, on behalf of his people, submitted a formal request for Yavaaran membership to the Federation. Michelle assured Kaleb that from what she'd learned of Kao and his fellow Yavaarans, their membership wouldn't be long in coming.

The freed prisoners had all been returned to their homeworlds, with the exception of Rohs, the Jem'Hadar soldier who had no home to return to. With the blue ketracel-white substitute flowing through his body, he had expressed an interest in attending Starfleet Academy. Academy board members were strongly considering his induction.

Skoff had offered to share with the Federation government all he knew of the illegal Romulan activities that he had once been so much a part of. He also insisted that he be placed on trial for war crimes, a request the Federation legal staff denied due to the unusual nature of his involvement. Once his testimony with regard to the Romulans was completed, he was scheduled to assume a teaching position at the Vulcan Science Adademy.

Kaleb and Yosephian had returned to the Alliance and been grandly congratulated by their superiors for their successful mission, despite the Yavaaran diplomatic mishaps. Kaleb's injured arm had returned to full strength thanks to twenty-fourth century medicine, but it still wasn't enough to successfully return Michelle's deadly serve. The ball reflected at a bad angle off his racquet and into the net. "Forty-thirty," the computer announced.

"I win again," Michelle smiled as she ran to the net to shake his hand in typical tennis tradition. She was surprised as he bounded over the net and affectionately placed an arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah," he laughed, "I'll have to stop letting you do that."

"Computer," Michelle called out after a moment, "reset holodeck and run Yosephian Program 12." The tennis stadium around them wavered and then vanished, replaced by one of Risa's sandy beaches. Above the distant shoreline, a brilliant moon was reflecting off the still ocean waters.

Kaleb and Michelle sat on the beach and watched the moon rise. As Kaleb took Michelle's hand in his, he wasn't sure what the future held for them. But, for tonight, they were just two friends basking in the achievement of a mission well-accomplished.