EP1 PROLOGUE



VEKARIA, GOVERNMENT WORLD OF THE UNITED SYSTEMS OF QOVAKIA, THE OUTER ZONE

The planet's green-blue daytime, flecked with dark storm clouds, shone silently foreboding in the star-spangled blackness of space. Positioned behind it, smaller and silvery bright, the crescent of its heavenly counterpart in the Vekarian system. Beyond, as an almighty backdrop, the enormous density of the Milky Way galaxy.

No-one had thought a place like Qovakia existed, wedged as it was between the border of the vast Tholian territory and the emptiness of intergalactic vacuum beyond. Qovakia - the very edge of the galaxy itself, some 10 years' worth of uncharted expanse spilling out around the base of a spiral arm which arced out and around the Tholian empire for many light years and the Alpha Quadrant for even more.

As Dean of Stellar Cartography at Starfleet Academy had begun to describe it to her most recent students, if the Milky Way galaxy were a squashed orange, Qovakia would be the zest running along a minute part of the circumference.

Upon its discovery, Starfleet had been the first to give the region a name, calling it the Outer Zone...

EARTH DATE: DECEMBER 22ND

The Starfleet runabout Hudson made short work of travelling the distance between Vekaria and its grey moon. A low gravity piece of dead rock with negligible atmosphere, the moon hadn't merited a name for a long time after Vekaria's sentient inhabitants first noticed it rise into the night sky. It had simply been referred to in the same way as other developing M-class worlds with only one satellite: la lun, or the local equivalent.

As civilisations formed on Vekaria, their understanding of the heavens grew, and soon Vekarians reached for the stars themselves - among the first to do so in this region.

Three centuries ago the moon had earned itself a name: Helub, the ancient Vekarian word for Trade. Historically speaking, Helub was the code-name of the first project on the moon two centuries ago - an edifice designed to attract other races with a beacon calling out to the stars currently beyond their reach, inviting a peaceful exchange of goods and information.

The name stuck and had been used ever since to describe the Space Port that quickly built up around it and now engulfed two thirds of the surface. Helub had become the biggest free Space Port in all Qovakia, though there were many other privately run ports. The Vekarian system, sited close to the border of Tholian annexes, was by no means the best located port, but it was the best defended with its backdrop of vast asteroid fields and guaranteed protection for all visitors. That border had, of course, recently moved.

The Hudson swiftly descended toward the moon's surface, but veered away from the main concentration of the port and headed out instead toward the area where the surface was mostly barren. The runabout reduced speed and dived low to avoid busy approach and departure lanes overhead. She flew on thrusters at five metres, hugging the terrain, swerving from time to time to avoid jagged struts of rock and the occasional carcass of an over exerted spacecraft.

On board, two humanoids stared intently through the forward window. Seated gracefully at the conn station was a handsome human male, classically chiselled and in his mid thirties. Choosing to wear glasses to improve his faintly weak eyesight rather than take medication gave him a studious, almost eccentric look combined with his smart Starfleet uniform. His squinting eyes were intent upon the horizon, only occasionally checking instrumentation for guidance.

Beside him stood Re Lorken, a proud, sixty something native Vekarian and high ranking Qovakian official swathed in purple and blue robes pinned together with the familiar blue, gold and red badge of Qovakian office. She looked down at the younger man flying the runabout. He was calmer than earlier, she noted, and paused to drink in the silky fineness of his sandy-yellow hair and equally light colour of his brows and eyelashes. Most Vekarians had dark hair, though sometimes tonally coloured. The blonde officer had appeared intense and awkward when she first encountered him, but here she realised he was a focussed man with a physical beauty unlike most of the others of his kind. Though a studious, reserved type, she guessed, and wondered briefly at the possibilities of such a man's past.

Re Lorken wondered about their trip. She felt tense and unprepared for the task ahead. There she had been earlier this morning, quietly observing the traditional Qovakian pomp of the induction proceedings to the Trade Conference with Visitor Representatives in the upper gallery of the Qovakian Senate in Vekaria's capitol. The main Senate floor below was crammed wall to wall with thousands of delegates and officials slowly shifting from limb to limb.

Her aide had made a ruffling entrance during a quiet part of the commencement speech, causing some head-turns in the gallery, and rushed mouse-like towards Re Lorken with "a very urgent request from one of the Visitors". She had felt a brief moment of annoyance, mostly as it had been the first time in ages she had been able to sit without having to think about government business, just enjoying one of the privileges of high office witnessing such a resplendent and momentous occasion in Qovakian history. But looking into the contorted face of her nervous aide, the feeling, she reminded herself, was based on a selfish desire, and quickly dispelled.

'Visitors' had become the term adopted by Qovakians for the newcomers coming through the recently discovered ex-Tholian wormhole. 'Had it really only been three weeks since its discovery?' Re Lorken asked herself. It had felt like a lifetime. Two days prior to that, an all-frequency signal from Qovakian's violently isolationist Tholian neighbours had announced that a major catastrophe among their people had taken place, and there would consequently be an immediate retraction of the Tholian borders on all sides.

According to subsequent Qovakian intelligence gathered over the ensuing days, it turned out the Tholians had suffered a massive epidemic of some kind, and left with a much reduced fleet, had tactically withdrawn to a more manageable area, laying down a new border. What had previously been Tholian was now 'free' space for about twenty cubic light years on all sides.

Within two days of the announcement, beyond Vekarian's old border, amid a field of asteroids in the new inclusion zone, eager scientists had stumbled across a stable wormhole leading to who knew where. But before the Qovakian government could advise how to proceed, several ships representing the Ferengi, the Federation and the Bajorans passed through to the Qovakian side to come face to face with the alert-ready scientists. Thankfully their intentions were peaceful - thankful because the Vekarians found these aliens to be slightly superior in weaponry.

Since then, it had been non-stop, with hundreds of transports crossing through the 'free' wormhole from both sides each week practically unchecked. Re Lorken and her many colleagues in the Qovakian government convened an urgent meeting to bring the 'polite invasion' to order.

With the Qovakians still picking up the pieces from half a century of bitter occupation by a fierce military race, tactically the Visitors' arrival could not have come at a better time, though the sheer volume of numbers arriving seemed daunting.

The Qovakian officials quickly made plans to turn a potentially damaging situation around. They decided to allow all parties from the Other Side to join them at the negotiation table to bid for trade franchises, no matter who they were. They also were to agree on migration policy, and most importantly to establish agreements to utilise the more powerful military might of the Visitors' technologies in order to secure peace and stability for the future. The final throws of rebellion had left Qovakia virtually defenceless, with depleated numbers of fighters left to ward off any major threat. Resources and manpower stretched, their fleet was still a long way from being replenished.

The Qovakian leaders also made the monitoring of Visitor activity a priority. Access to certain records were restricted, as was contact between Visitor representatives and Qovakian citizens. Fearful of a misguided judgement, they sought to manage the Visitors' understanding of the occupation and in particular events leading to the rebellion's conclusion. The price of victory had been high, and if the Visitors learned the truth too quickly, it was feared they would pull out from negotiations. But already the unplanned and extensive contact by general spacefarers with others amid the vast port of Helub had led to rumour and speculation about what had taken place. Thankfully, at such a stage of diplomatic negotiation, the Visitors were obliged to believe the official version of history, though in reality the Qovakian government knew it would only be a matter of time before the entire truth came out.

Re Lorken knew the truth, but was sworn to secrecy on the pretence it would be better in the long term. She was not convinced, but amazingly so far had not heard of any Visitor representative questioning the rumours spreading amongst the civilians. Just one of over seven hundred Qovakian liaison officers assigned to Federation and non-Federation worlds and organisations from the Other Side, Re Lorken was known for her negotiating abilities in the Protocols Ministry of Qovakia. Her credentials among fellow Vekarians as a pacifist and her extensive role as spokesperson for her people to the enemy's military forces for most of her life led to her appointment as Government liaison specifically assigned to assist the Starfleet organisation. It was deemed her knowledge of dealing with a large alien military organisation would come in useful in this respect.

However, on this occasion the relationship was thankfully pleasant. The Starfleet people seemed efficient enough to her, with high principles and strong codes of behaviour, though she failed to understand the conflicting range of humanity and science studies being carried out on some of the primarily military ships. Not to mention the presence of families - something akin to the military race that had ruled Qovakia so completely, Re Lorken thought. Despite misgivings, she considered herself lucky - her close friend and associate No Burrah had been assigned to the Ferengi, and former college room-mate Kezup Me Nehaha to the Klingons, both of whom had related terrible stories of misunderstanding and confrontation with their guests - and they weren't alone.

Though from what Re Lorken had seen, she secretly wished she had been assigned to the Romulans. They seemed charming.

At the Trade Conference, Re Lorken's aide had led her rapidly into the corridor where two Starfleet men appeared to be arguing. She stopped for a moment to give them time to finish, taking the opportunity to remind her reportee to use the correct terms to differentiate between each of the Visitors. Judging by the way that most of them behaved, the Visitors held stereotypical misconceptions about each other that could lead to disagreement or even conflict. Some were even rumoured to be at war, she had heard, although at this stage she wasn't party to the political intelligence gathering taking place by the Qovakian secret service.

Gesturing her aide away, Re Lorken walked over to the clipped, but just indiscernible exchange taking place between the two Starfleet personnel. She instantly identified one of the men as Yeoman Lirik, the terse diplomatic aide to the Federation delegates attending the Trade Conference, and he didn't seem to be happy with this other bespectacled man. As he gestured his frustration, Re Lorken could see the slight shimmer from the energy of the active environmental shield about Lirik's body. Leonard kept his distance, but wasn't shying away from saying his piece to the diplomat.

As Re Lorken approached, Lirik withdrew with a polite smile and nod and the other man frantically introduced himself as Lieutenant Commander Leonard, Deputy Chief Engineer aboard the USS Draco.

As Leonard walked Re Lorken hurriedly towards the Senate's docking bays, he explained that while on shore leave here, he had been reading through the Vekarian database of alien contact - non-classified records had been made available to all Visitors as a gesture of fraternity and candour by the Qovakian government. Leonard had come across references to several spacecraft, apparently in storage on the moon somewhere, and having engineering features concurrent with Federation technology. They were not named, but had a catalogue number and brief technical spec against them - which, judging from the limited detail, came only from a visual survey of the exterior.

Before the discovery of the wormhole, the journey to Qovakia from the Alpha Quadrant directly across Tholian territory would have involved travelling some 15,000 light years - and then only at the narrowest point. But of course the Tholians, being strict isolationists, would have prevented anyone making such an attempt, so to go around the perimeter from the Federation to Qovakia would have taken perhaps 25 or 30 years at maximum warp. As the Lt Commander explained to Re Lorken, he was more than a little enthusiastic to be the first to take a look and determine if the vessels were indeed from back home.

Leonard had chewed on his bottom lip constantly as Re Lorken contacted the Vekarian Security Minister to gain approval for the journey to the relevant storage facility on the moon. Suprisingly to her, it had been granted, although further instructions were to be issued to Re Lorken on departure.

Reading the single order which had been personally scribbled by the Security Minister herself disturbed Re Lorken greatly, but she had smiled to Leonard as they entered the runabout Hudson that, she noted, had been used by Lirik to ferry the delegates to and from Vekaria.

As Leonard carried out pre-flight checks - mostly resetting customised defaults entered in by the annoying Yeoman - Re Lorken was intently listening to Leonard's frantic suppositions and sighing inwardly. She would rather have listened to the initiation ceremony. But as her instructions were to be as fully co-operative with Starfleet as possible, here she stood on the deck of the runabout heading for a little known and rarely visited bunker installation on the 'dead' side of the moon filled with a sense of dread.

"We should be very close now, Lieutenant Commander Leonard," Re Lorken referred to the map she carried, provided via matter transfer beam at lightening speed by the Helub Security Office.

Leonard smiled, "Just Ottmar will do, Minister."

"Then you should call me Re Lorken," she smiled in gentle reply.

The Hudson's internal systems chirped an endorsement of Re Lorken's orienteering skill as they banked around a particularly large rock stack and encountered a huge but lifeless construction of curvaceous proportions and high, sloping walls leading to a multi-domed roof. Moon dust banks lapped unmoving against the sides of the building indicating years of disuse, and several window spaces were black and beckoning. The facility appeared to stretch back several kilometres.

Leonard brought the runabout to a full stop and whistled; "You know in the Alpha Quadrant, this storage complex would dwarf many of our Starbases."

Re Lorken smiled in accordance with diplomatic etiquette, though she had no idea what the man was talking about. Leonard sensed this, but before he could explain she changed the subject; "Your accent is unfamiliar to me, Ottmar, what is it?"

"It's German," the man smiled again, and this time turned to her, flashing his too-white teeth and bright blue eyes. Leonard found that when he smiled, most people tended to relax, even though he felt self conscious doing it.

"But you are Human, though?" Re Lorken was on diplomatic autopilot, her real attention had turned to the muted grey complex before her. She had never seen it up close before, but then being so short staffed and under-resourced since the 'success' of the rebellion nearly five years ago, Vekarians had had little time to go exploring. Still, Re Lorken had just been informed of its purpose and it sent a chill down her spine to think she would actually be going inside. Moreover, the note from the Security Minister set her a task which she would have traded anything to avoid.

"Yes, I am Human and I am German. Germany, my nation of origin, is situated in Europe, an area on the continent of Asia," Leonard had dipped into condescending info-mode again, something his roommate Winston Winston had constantly jibed him about through his entire time at the Academy: 'You swallowed a Vulcan, Lenny?' he used to laugh.

"Ah, Earth. Yes. The Starfleet Command Headquarters are there, as is the Starfleet Academy and the President of the Federation of Planets," Re Lorken was pleased to talk about something she had memorised. "We need to find a land vehicle entrance because the main space doors cannot be accessed from the outside. I have the necessary codes to gain entry." Re Lorken scanned intently with her eyes.

"Then you haven't been here before?" Leonard had assumed that a Minister representing Qovakia, especially one who had lived all her life on Vekaria, would be familiar with all facilities in and around the moon. Especially one so large as this.

"Oh no, this place has not been visited since Elequin Foradni, shortly after the rebellion's victory," Re Lorken reached for the ornate case which had been be beamed aboard by the Security corps shortly after departure, and removed a set of old films inscribed with coded language.

"That was four years ago," Leonard had picked up a little about Vekarian time measurements during his stay in the cosy comfort of a renowned Helub hotel. He guided the runabout slowly along the base of the building, adjusting sensors to hunt for a land vehicle entrance; "I can't believe all this has remained so untouched, so unexplored, for so long."

Leonard couldn't quite make out this older woman; on the one hand she seemed uneasy with the situation, but on the other, she kept staring at him in the oddest way.

In fact, the look she gave reminded him of his only (and aged spinster) aunt, Gertha. While he was a Starfleet Academy trainee, she had managed to transport into his parents' apartment in Cologne just about every time he had gone home to visit. She would always pinch his cheeks too hard and kiss him fully on the mouth, making him blush. Having made his parents giggle by her actions she would further embarrass him by enquiring after who he was kissing or how his love-making was coming along or talking about her own eventful life and past lovers.

Aunt Gerty loved to put people on edge. As he thought this the voice of his Bronxian Academy roommate, Winston Winston popped into his head again; "What IS it with these older chicks?" Leonard had heard this phrase repeated over an entire day following the Senior Alumni Academy Ball during their final year in San Francisco together. He and Winston had managed to avoid the campus- wide pranks carried out by the retired female officers during the night, but they were nevertheless duly impressed by the outrageous and daring feats of the veterans. The saying had stuck and to their endless amusement was always used in communications between the two when talking about higher ranking female colleagues.

Re Lorken had been talking while Leonard drifted: "Since then it has taken the Qovakian people all their time and all their resources to bring a sense of normality back into our lives.

Leonard could feel that Re Lorken was not talking pat diplomatic speech now. He kicked himself for letting the voice of Winston Winston get in the way again - he was just one of those guys you couldn't get out of your head.

Re Lorken was lost in thought; "There was so much to be done, so much to rebuild."

"I didn't find much information about what happened during the occupation in the Qovakian databases," Leonard quizzed her, adjusting the sensors to account for the interference being given off by the strange composition of the palatial structure before them.

Re Lorken gained composure slightly at this; "It's still being compiled. Don't look so surprised, Ottmar, there are just not enough resources and more important priorities, frankly. Our own records of the occupation itself are limited, of course. Mostly it's personal accounts. It's not something I want to remember myself, much less read about."

Re Lorken was using emotion to try and prevent Leonard from questioning further, but she suspected he would continue anyway. One thing she had learned about Starfleet types: they had an unquenchable desire for truth.

"The race who had been in power...?" Leonard prompted.

"The K'Tani," Re Lorken hacked the name out in clear contempt.

"What happened to them? If they had ruled so many light years of space, controlled so many planets and races, they must have been very powerful. So it must have been a long and bloody war to get rid of them." Leonard was pushing her. He reminded himself that, for a society living under a cold-blooded regime for so long, there was surprisingly little evidence aside from weapons damage and newly constructed buildings that an occupying force had ever been there.

"The K'Tani were ambitious if not arrogant. They believed that the whole Galaxy would be better off under their rule and pushed as far as they could in every direction. They eventually spread themselves too thin. A rebellion force had chipped away at them for decades. In the end, they were overthrown by a ... combined effort of force, shall we say. Most of the K'Tani fleet was destroyed in battle at Merova aboard their vast fleet of battleships and stations. Only a handful escaped capture and fled to the far quarters or beyond. Those who were picked up were sterilised and interned for processing," Re Lorken waited for his predictable human reaction.

"'Sterilised'?" Leonard turned to her in surprise.

"The K'Tani were genetically improved. Their reproductive process had a short incubation period of only two weeks from conception to birth. Their offspring were engineered to learn and grow quickly to puberty when the cycle slowed down to a more normal ageing. Basically that was how they attained control in the first place, by breeding in vast numbers and spreading their rule throughout Qovakia." Re Lorken noticed Leonard's puzzlement.

"I grew up on Vekaria. I'm one of the few who remember how it was before they came, and I'm proud to say I lived to see the day they were removed from power. I had been prominent among my people as an aggressive spokesperson and I was among the group who formed the interim government when we regained power. Sterilisation was the first thing we did to all those captured. Believe me, it was the least they deserved."

Leonard regarded the Vekarian differently now. He reminded himself of his first year training in security at the Academy - Lieutenant Tuvok had repeatedly pitted seemingly friendly characters against his class during holotraining. All had appeared harmless, yet all had been at best untrustworthy, and at worst deadly. Was this woman such a character? Then again, he supposed, such radical measures against the K'Tani were understandable after a lifetime of oppression.

"What then happened to them?" Leonard asked.

"Some K'Tani faced trial, but most were imprisoned on Cell Ships in the Moriban Nebula," Re Lorken looked up as if she could see the Nebula from this distance. "They were a military race from top to bottom, you see, everyone performing a role, playing their part. Just following orders, they said. It seemed as if there was no individual or single group who took responsibility."

"But there must have been a leader or a figurehead? The orders had to come from somewhere?" Leonard was beginning to pick up a faint reading, perhaps a door, and shunted the runabout forward to take a look.

Re Lorken shook her head, "They were too highly organised, split into Divisions, Sectors, Quadrants, Regiments ... Platoons and Units. Each of them only knew their immediate superiors and surrounding colleagues. There never made mention of any one high up in authority. You see, understanding their military hierarchy is to understand their entire society, as they are one in the same. Everyone plays a part from the youngest to the oldest; it's their way of life. To this day we still don't fully much about their society. Just its purpose," Re Lorken paused for dramatic effect, "to invade and assimilate."

Leonard skipped a heartbeat at that all-too familiar word; "Like the Borg."

"The who?" Re Lorken could see the glimmer of fear in his piercing eyes.

Leonard gave her a half smile; "Trust me, you're better off not knowing." The engineer made several fine-tune adjustments to the sensors. "I still don't get it, though. If the K'Tani were so powerful, so great in number, how were they ever overthrown? The Qovakians must have had very powerful allies-" but Leonard was cut short by Re Lorken's dramatic cry.

"There!" she almost shouted. "I see an entrance. Configure an infrared beam to the following coded shapes and signal configuration." Re Lorken handed Leonard a plastic sheet of ornate designs, each having an apparently numerical equivalent.

Leonard took his cue, placed the sheet onto the runabout scanner and entered his computations into the beam controls, "Computer, scan the cell and apply code references to an infrared beam to the following signal configuration."

"Ready." The computer voice said.

"Begin transmission," Leonard watched his controls affirm the transmission, but nothing immediately happened. He was about to re-send when a square section of the wall in front of the vessel slid inwards and upwards into an unseen housing. Leonard instinctively swept the dark hole with sensors, his spare hand hovering over the shield control, and studied the readings carefully. Moon dust billowed slightly as the entrance lifted, suspended in the air in soft undulations. Using the directional sensors, he could make out a fifteen metre conduit leading to an inner pressure door, big enough for the runabout to enter. Leonard skilfully guided the Hudson in.

Re Lorken tensly sat down in the co-pilot seat, pulling the ornate case onto her lap. Opening it, she retrieved several odd items: she placed a decorative headband over her blue-purple permed hair and discretely checked her wrist-mounted sensor bracelet to check the device on her head was recording efficiently then glanced at Leonard. The Lieutenant Commander appeared to have thought nothing of her actions; presumably not aware of the disguised security devices she carried with her, she noted silently.

Re Lorken reached a hand over to the communication panel, surprising Leonard. She paused at his reaction. "May I use your communicator?"

"Of course, Minister," Leonard was wondering whether she had been briefed on the layout of Starfleet controls or whether she had logically surmised the panel configuration.

"This is Minister Re Lorken aboard the Starfleet runabout Hudson," she licked her lips and waited.

A soft voice replied, "This is Security Minister At Arin, go ahead."

"We are now entering Storage Facility Orlega one, expected duration..." she turned to Leonard, brows raised.

"About four hours?" Leonard suggested - he had plenty of time before his leave ended.

Re Lorken blinked impassively. "Expected duration one hour."

"Acknowledged, Runabout Hudson, one hour from mark."

Leonard could feel his face flushing at the blatant put-down and wondered at the extra precaution of timing their visit. Re Lorken smiled that disconcerting expression again, "I have a busy schedule to keep, Commander."

As the Hudson came to a halt inside the small conduit, Leonard activated the external search beams. The door to the rear of the conduit automatically closed off the exit behind them and shortly after, the pressure door in front of them split apart. The conduit continued on for a short distance in front of them, then dropped away to either side, phasing out onto the floor of a significantly larger internal space, much like the inside of a Starfleet space dock. The lights of the runabout didn't have much effect penetrating the darkness, though Leonard just make out a very large, far off black object hanging in mid air beyond the widening gap before them. 'Some sort of starship?' Leonard asked himself.

As the doors disappeared further into their housings, the black shape in the distance got larger and larger. Leonard began to see it was indeed the outer hull of vessel before him; he identified vague portholes, the outline of hull panels beneath a strange, pitch-like surface. There were also more conventional windows, and a tiered section of upper decks. It was strangely built, a conglomerate of designs, and Leonard wanted to see more.

Manoeuvring thrusters only, Leonard guided the runabout out of the conduit into the open space. Instantly he became aware there was more than just one ship here - many more, in fact, all suspended high above the hangar floor. Suddenly, small spotlights winked on high up in the roof as the runabout skimmed slowly across the floor, causing Re Lorken to gasp. The ineffective light cast myriad shadows off the hangar's many contents.

"We must have tripped some sort of automatic power-up sequence," Leonard guessed.

The hangar reminded Leonard of one of the holoprograms Winston Winston used to play repeatedly in off-time. It was the one based on the 20th century futuristic genre celluloid entertainment film called "Alien". This hanger was probably bigger than the inside of the alien vessel in that film, but equally felt like massive caverns carved out of fossilised material such were the materials that made up the Orlega One facility. The walls, floor and ceiling was of ornate design, the space twisting off in other directions hundreds of metres distant.

Here, though, there were not thousands of eggs, but rather hundreds of vessels suspended in the vacuum of the hangar. They were of many designs, all unfamiliar, and in various states of disrepair. Looking down, Leoanrd was faced with indiscernible readings as the runabout sensors were bounced around off the alien hulls. At least there were no signs of alien life, he thought.

The biggest object in view seemed to be this black, glistening hull in front of them that swept off to either side for hundreds of metres and upwards for many decks - it was massive; long and almost cylindrical in shape.

Using conventional viewer enhancers, Leonard traced along the hull, noticing some of its more recent fate - large pockmarks and the odd breach which had been covered up with what looked like makeshift panelling. He guessed the damage must have been uncomfortable for the crew at the time. There was similar patching where external devices had been removed - this old bird had certainly been through the wars, Leonard thought. High above the aft to his right, Leonard could make out a stepped turret, presumably housed on her top deck which, taking into account the logic behind the design, would probably be flat.

Then it dawned on him. He couldn't believe it, but having a passion for famous and infamous spacecraft of the past, Leonard knew exactly what she was, though he couldn't believe it. Aside from its strange shape and unfamiliar black coating - and its lack of apparent warp nacelles - which had at first thrown him, the overall shape and design was unmistakable.

"I believe this is a Federation ship, Re Lorken," Leonard was excited but astounded. He eagerly punched up the onboard Starfleet database. "The SS Fantasy, formerly a luxury passenger liner ... succession of owners ... last listed as the property of the Genoise Proprietary, a legitimate business believed funded by the Orion Syndicate. Her final position was logged in Federation territory, near to New Fabrinia while making deliveries of various goods to the Federation's Historical Preservation Depot on Verigan 6. It never arrived, listed as lost without trace."

"Fascinating," the Minister was clearly bemused. Leonard took another general look about the hanger walls again; there was something not quite right.

"Am I mistaken, or is the architecture here different to that which I have seen around Helub and on Vekaria?" despite reservations, Leonard noted the efficient power supply lines and uniform yet organic design of the structure.

"No," Re Lorken stood and gave a slow visual scan of the surroundings, "you are not mistaken. This was built by the K'Tani."

Leonard had began to think as much by Re Lorken's actions and words. He supposed that being here was no worse than being aboard Deep Space 9 after the Cardassians had left.

Re Lorken picked up an archive report and read from it. "After we had secured Helub for safe habitation following the final defeat of the K'Tani at Merova, Qovakian security carried out a rapid and extensive reconnaissance of all facilities. This one was visited twice, once to ensure its safety, and another to carry out an inventory check. It was deemed low priority in the general scheme of things to be done, and in fact..." Re Lorken checked her own files again, "...it is not due for a thorough examination for another seven months, by your chronology. "

Leonard didn't quite understand this and Re Lorken added; "We've been very busy."

The runabout squeaked a warning causing them both to jump. Leonard checked the flashing readout on his sensor and tactical panels.

"A forcefield is forming above us, underneath the spacecraft stored here. It's covering the entire complex. Now an atmosphere and gravity envelope underneath," Leonard compensated his flight controls accordingly, "another automated system. It seems that from ground level to ten metres there are habitable conditions. Above it's still zero g and vacuum, perfect for storing spacefare. Now that's fascinating."

Leonard steered the runabout along the floor of the cavernous hanger until he came to one of several groins protruding from the inner most walls. He located a doorway, presumably leading to control and administration rooms and, he hoped, engineering rooms. He lowered the runabout and cut engines, then following standard procedure, opened a hailing frequency to the temporary Starfleet Command Headquarters in the spaceport.

"Commander Leonard to Starfleet Headquarters, may I speak with Commodore Jackson?" Static replied. Leonard ran an analysis. "Strange. The structure is causing unusual communications interference."

Re Lorken nodded, "The K'Tani experimented with a variety of new materials to shield themselves from sensors and block communications without the use of energy fields. Some of their constructions could cause sensor interference or reflect communications."

"The K'Tani were powerful AND hard to find? I'm beginning to be amazed at their defeat," Leonard made some mental comparisons to the Romulans - theirs was a military culture, too. He called a Yellow Alert in his head. "I want to take a look around, care to join me?"

Re Lorken froze in her seat. "I don't think it would be safe, Leonard. Surely a visual survey from your ship will suffice?"

"You'll be fine," Leonard clipped a phaser and tricorder to his belt, smiling sweetly. "You said yourself this place was cleared as secure and has been abandoned for years. Besides, " Leonard offered a hand, "I will need your help in analysing anything I might find."

Reluctantly Re Lorken took his large, strong-fingered hand. It was her duty to go anyhow, so she had no choice.

Leonard and his tricorder were as one when the runabout outer door retracted. Stepping out into the oxygen rich atmosphere made Re Lorken reel slightly. "Oh, my!"

Leonard steadied her, then reached back inside the runabout grabbing a small medical kit. He retrieved a hypo and selected the appropriate solution cartridge.

"Here," he injected himself then Re Lorken, "this should help compensate for the high oxygen atmosphere."

"Thank you, Ottmar," the Minister was putting a brave face on the situation, Leonard could tell. Something was scaring the wits out of her.

Standing underneath the multifarious vehicles, the hangar seemed even vaster now. The multi-recessed roof was hundreds of metres high, though the aspect was difficult to see. Leonard walked to the inner hatch on the groin, scanning all the time and running routine analysis in his head, but Re Lorken did not follow him. Something else had grabbed her attention and pulled her in the opposite direction.

Nearing the access, Leonard turned, sweeping his tricorder in a 360 degree arc. Readings were still indeterminate, though he could eyeball cable connections and some personnel gangways attached to some of the vessels, including the SS Fantasy. Re Lorken had stopped some distance away, staring at something on the ground.

Leonard decided to leave her alone, thinking this could be a difficult moment for her. He paced over to beneath the Fantasy, looking up at her enormous bulk safely parked above. He noted the many large bay doors along the port and starboard underside. These would have accommodated passenger vehicles during its many voyages, Leonard recalled, as well as provide egress for the liner's own launches. The tar-like surface covering the ship was not part of its original design, however. In its day, the liner had been a gleaming white, like a spacebound albino whale of gargantuan proportions. The surface had obviously been applied later, and appeared to have similar properties to the hangar walls as the tricorder readings were unclear. He would have to wait for a closer analysis.

Turning around, he saw Re Lorken had not moved, eyes fixed on the floor. Tricorder still running, he jogged over to where she stood, head hung low. As he slowed, he saw something sticking out of the ground in front of her - a large piece of colorful cloth, charred and ripped at the edges had been staked to the thick metal floor by a long, elegant, ornately carved spear. It was the strangest site. The cloth reminded Leonard of a flag design, though the curves, lines and ellipses that made up the design were unfamiliar. The spear appeared older, intricately carved with strange creatures, and apparently made out of wood.

The scene before them was symbolic to say the least.

"What is it?" Leonard saw that Re Lorken had removed her headband and dropped it to the floor. She looked distraught.

She whispered: "It is the K'Tani flag of Invasion. It flies wherever they claim ownership."

Leonard scanned the objects with his tricorder. "I know this flag may look old, Minister, but if these readings are correct the flag was manufactured less than a month ago."

Re Lorken didn't react. Instinctively, Leonard drew his phaser and scanned once more for lifeforms. He continued his analysis; "The spear is much older, perhaps several hundred years I'd say. Amazing, although the spear is made of a sufficiently hard metal, there are traces of humanoid tissue imbedded in part of the surface at an angle concurrent with the trajectory of impact." He translated in plain language; "It's as if the spear was thrust into two inches of solid metal floor by a human hand."

Re Lorken face was colourless and she remained silent. Leonard was trying to work it out. "Minister, is the spear K'Tani as well?"

Re Lorken shuddered. "No," she murmured, "it is a Challenge Stick, a symbol of retribution used by the Ore."

***

ACT 1