Skarr left his small Klingon shuttle/Bird-of-Prey, and shivered in spite of himself despite the fact that the clothing he wore was incredibly warm. He looked at around. Surrounding him was the cold, freezing wasteland of what was probably the most blizzard-ridden world in the galaxy.

And he was alone.

There was no one with him. It was a feeling Skarr loved. No matter how much power he held, no matter how strong his placement was, he was alone.

And he loved it.

Skarr smiled in spite of himself, a warm, homeful smile, not one of evil that he usually spread across his face when a man died in front of him, but a smile that one smiles when they are at peace internally. And Skarr was.

He walked quietly, slowly to each of the ships that was covered in snow, inspecting each one slowly. He wiped away snow, looking at the names painted on the hull, or inscribed. "Hunter's Angel" read one, "Federation Foes" read another. Skarr shrugged. He walked back to his personal Klingon Bird-of-Prey, and boarded the ramp. He only liked the name of one vessel on this wasteland, snow-covered planet, and it was his ship, his home:

The Night.

The Night was Skarr's home away from home, wherever home may be during an operation. The Maquis realm had many small moons, but its only true base of operation was the Ferengi home planet. Skarr rarely visited it; it was too rainy.

The Night held some of Skarr's many favorite possesions, each of which either inflicted pain, or stimulated the mind. Skarr loved mind games. His quarters on the Night were, of course, not the standard Klingon issue bunk. All the twelve quarters in the small B'rel class cruiser had been changed into three: a guestroom, Skarr's main suite, and a criminal holding chamber, which hadn't changed much from the Klingon design.

Skarr walked to the single-person controlled bridge, and began to power up the Night. He lifted it from the ground, until it was high enough to leave orbit. He cut the ventral thrusters, and switched to the main drive. He ignited the main drive, and blasted away from Pentelence three, making a mental not to return to it with the USS Telemachus, the Maquis' stolen Federation ship, and burn the surface of the planet clean.

No witness, no crime done. If the next part of Skarr's new plan worked. Perhaps the assasination of Voren Na'al was a bit hard-etched in a plan such as this, but, then again, life was hard on everyone, wasn't it?

"No, Na'al, you know I'll get out of here." Skarr yelled at me. I had found ensign Stephen Sewell, alias Skarr, tampering with Federation files, with possible links to the Maquis. I prided himself on reporting the rogue. It had granted him a promotion. I had little minded the comment that the small rogue called "Skarr" said in the brig. I merely dismissed the comment. Sure, we had been friends for a month, but, then again, he wasn't exactly nice, and this promotion had put me on the USS Explorer. It wasn't until I was a commander that I started to squirm. Skarr was lose, and no one knew where he had escaped to.

And then he stole my ship.

"No Na'al, you know I'll get out of here."

"And when I do, you're mine."

"You're mine."

"Mine."

Voren woke up in a cold sweat, and looked around. He was on the Egypt, in his quarters. The stars were slowly cruising by at Impulse speeds. The room was silent except Mara's breathing. He shuddered, trying to get the dream out of his head.

He lay back down, thinking he could get more sleep.

Closed his eyes. No effect.

Voren slowly tossed back the covers of the bed, and got up. He scratched his stomach a few times, before yawning.

He muttered quietly, "Computer, time, and make it quiet," so Mara wouldn't be awakened.

The computer responded, silently, "seven hundred hours." Voren shook his head, and drowsily walked into the bathroom, and took off his sleeping garments, putting them into the cleaning replicator. They vanished, and in their place appeared another set, which Voren knew were clean and unwrinkled. They were his personal garments, and were dematerialized, cleaned, and rematerialized that quickly. He walked into the sonic shower.

He got out, shaved, and smiled as Mara entered the bathroom. "Morning." He said in the middle of shaving. He noticed a small hair, and leaned close to the sink. Mara mumbled back something inaudible, but sounded like "Yeah." Voren turned to face her. He had finished shaving, and he smiled at her. She ran her fingers over his chin, as if inspecting.

"Smooth as a changeling's sap." She said.

Voren nodded, and said, "Glad you approve. See you on the bridge." He walked out of the bathroom, and dressed. He wondered if this day would be routine, or new. They were currently awaiting a Starfleet assignment; everything was pretty much at peace in their sector of space. Voren left Mara and his quarters, and walked to the turbolift. He waited for a second at the door, and then decided to take a different route to work. He instead walked to a door across the hall from the turbolift. He pressed the manual opening button on the door because it opened into one of the Jefferies Tubes. Voren walked in, and the doors closed behind him. He then jumped onto one of the bars, and began climbing. He could see up three levels to the bridge door duct; he had a way to go. Well, its funner than the turbolift, he thought. Voren began his way up the levels. As he reached level one, he was mildly perspiring. He shook his head.

"Better do this some more," he said to himself. The doors opened to the conference room, and Voren walked in. He walked through the conference room onto the bridge. Cheval, leaving the turbolift, smiled at him.

"Good morning, captain." She said. He nodded at her, and smiled.

Bobby Squit looked up from helm, and said, "Oh, good morning, captain. Any orders?" Voren smiled at Bobby. No matter when or where you were, he was always there for work. Voren shook his head.

"Nope, Bobby, you're off for now. I've gotta find out if Starfleet has sent us an assignment." Voren turned towards the ready room doors, and, as he entered them, muttered, "if we ever get another assignment..."

Cheval sat at the Sciences station, and leaned over to Bobby. "What'd he say?"

"Something about ever getting an assignment."

Voren was right: Starfleet had pretty much been sitting around waving away flies for the last few weeks. The Egypt hadn't had a mission sent to her for a week, and the most recent one was to go check out Bratuuan space for debris from an old freighter. It was nothing, and the whole crew was growing tired of doing nothing.

Voren walked to his chair, and sat down. He pressed the activation log, and the computer's bland female voice suddenly interrupted the slow silence of the morning.

"Captain Na'al, you have a priority one message from Starfleet. It was sent at oh four hundred hours."

Voren shook his head of drowsiness, and replied, "Okay, put it on." Voren looked down at his small computer, and watched it display a short command code. Appearantly, this message was from Admiral Harrison. Voren began to read, looking over the message, chewing up the problem that had just been put in front of him. It was six simple sentences. Greetings from Federation HQ. Your new mission is to patrol the Ferengi border. There have been rumors of an invasion. Please observe the surrounding area, do not attack unless fired upon. In three weeks, if nothing happens, report back to the Federation. Thank you.

Voren shook his head, but this time, not of drowsiness. "Damn." He remarked quietly. This was not going to be easy. Observe? How am I supposed to just fly around without looking like I'm snooping at the borders of their space?

"Computer, please get me Admiral Harrison."

The computer blipped and bleeped for a second, before responding,

"He is accepting your hail." The computer terminal's screen displayed an image of John Harrison, an old Admiral, and a rather decieving man. Many aliens or enemies had misjudged his actions as the captain of a Federation ship before, and then suffered. He was coldly correct, yet a very kind man.

"Ah, hello Voren. Good to see you. Up so early?"

Voren smiled, and said, "Just how did you know its morning on the Egypt?"

Harrison grinned, replying, "It's not very hard to figure it out; your chronometer in the corner of the screen told me, and you look like you havn't had your coffee yet." Voren held up his hands in mock surrender.

"You've got me."

"So, did you receive my hail?" Harrison said.

Voren nodded, and said, "Yes sir, but I have a question. May I request the use of a Federation cloaking device if we're going to do any observing?"

Harrison sat there for a long time, looking at Voren, before responding, "Only for patrol, right?"

Voren nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Sure, why not." Harrison then said, "Hold on, Voren, I need to contact tactical." Voren waited as the screen was replaced with a Starfleet communications "Please Hold" screen. Well, the first part of the mission is in execution...

The Admiral came back on, and said, "Done. USS Austrailia is headed towards your position at warp nine. She'll be there in an hour and a half if you rendezvous at these coordinates." The Admiral tapped a button, and the coordinates appeared in the corner of the screen. Voren quickly transferred them to a padd. He was truly impressed. This man had more contacts than a Klingon nerve ending.

"Thank you, Admiral." Voren said.

The Admiral responded, "Not at all. Is there anything else you'd like?" Voren shook his head. "Not really. Now that I have this, I feel a little safer. Na'al out." Voren tapped off the terminal, and left the ready room. He walked on to the bridge, and smiled. Bobby noticed first.

"What is it, captain?" He asked.

Voren replied, "Everyone...we've got a mission."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "I thought so." He mumbled.

Cheval smiled, and replied, "That's great!"

Mara, who had appearantly just walked onto the bridge, gave Voren a wink. "Nifty." She said, smiling. Voren knew she had picked up on using old earth popularity terms; her bedside had three novels about what she called "the fifties." Voren didn't know how this would make any impact on an uninitiated ear due to the fact that "the fifties" could be any year period in any century from the 51st year to the 59th year. Well, that was Wid's impression of it....

Wid. For the first time in three weeks, Voren's mind slowly careened back to the day he found that the best tactical officer he ever met died. The Egypt was stolen that week, he lost his tactical officer, the Maquis got away... Voren still couldn't shake the dream he had just had. He noticed Mara looking at him with concern.

"Something wrong, Voren?" She asked. Voren shook his head out of the sentimental reverie he was dreaming about.

"No, nothing at all. Bobby, here's the coordinates that we'll need to rendezvous at; please jump to warp eight." Voren said, pulling on his collar. He felt a bit embarrassed over looking hurt in front of Mara.

"Voren, are you still sad about Wid's death? Why don't you talk to Jerrica about it? I did; you wouldn't believe how kind she can be off the bridge." Mara said.

Voren thought about that for a minute. Jerrica Adams, the Egypt's counselor, always had great, kind advice-if you could stand talking to a once-android. She had been human for twenty years of her life, transplanted into an Android's body for seven years, and, while serving on the Egypt, she was miraculously turned back into a human. Voren shook his head. The universe could do incredible things...

He replied, "Well, seeing as we have an hour and a half before we reach our rendezvous, why not? Mara, I'll need you to contact me when we reach the rendezvous point." Voren walked to the turbolift doors, and turned. He smiled in a cocky manner.

"And this time, my friends, let's not lose the ship to some crazy pirate, okay?" He said, before entering the turbolift. He heard Mara groan before the door swooshed close.

Skarr looked out at the vast number of ships lying in Ferenginar's orbit-some Federation, some Klingon, some he couldn't even identify, and most of the other ships were Ferengi. He smiled to himself. The Maquis and the Ferengi had struck up a deal-no one entered their space until they were ready. That was a hail that had been issued several years ago, when the Maquis seemed to be good enough trading partners with the Ferengi. The Maquis got friendly, they moved in. The Ferengi closed their borders. Anyone who didn't come back to Ferengi was banished from the worlds. The entire Ferengi space became quiet for years to come. There had been some rumors, Skarr knew, that the Federation knew about the new Ferengi ships, but couldn't make any approved guesses. Starfleet no longer had a Ferengi delegate to the Federation, all Ambassadors left, any trading routes dominated by the Ferengi were sold to the highest bidder in an all-or-nothing attempt for large sums of money. And the Ferengi did get a lot of cash, and began using it to build their entire armed fleet. The Maquis had helped fuel the fire of their fight, and after that, the Ferengi pretty much turned their own tables. The need for barter became the need for battle. The want for more became the want for war. The Ferengi, in a wry sense, became little Klingons with much better ships. Skarr knew that some of the certain ships he had sent his crews out in were almost soldered together from bits of other ships-it was a tactic that was decreasing in usage; the Ferengi, who had become bedfellows with the Maquis, easily donated warships and dreadnaughts. Skarr smiled. It was ironic that people such as the Ferengi could become so warlike so easily.

"Bird-of-Prey ST-three-one-seven, we have you on our approach scans. Please identify."

Skarr pressed a button on the transmission panel. "This is His highness, Skarr. I wish to land in my docking platform." The man at the other end of the communication recieved it voice only, along with a communication recording of himself looking much more majestic as a visual reference. Skarr did not want anyone to see him in his private bridge; instead, he created an appearance of majesty, and sent the transmission with that visual reference every time he entered a Ferengi area.

"We confirm, your highness. Your platform is clear of any debris or craft, you may land at your own discretion." Skarr smiled to himself. Good, he thought to himself, Obedient as usual. Skarr prepared his ship for landing, and than brought the small B'rel class Bird of Prey down into the atmosphere, aiming for the largest building on the planet-his personal castle. Of course its the largest, it can easily blast off from its current moorings seeing as it is also a ship, Skarr thought to himself. He orbited his giant castle three times in giant loops, before approaching the hangar, and slwowly bringing his Bird of Prey to the duranium floor inside the compact hangar on the building. Skarr was quiete impressed when he had created the building, as he didn't know whether he would have to land his ship on top of the building or if it would actually fit in the hangar. He left his ship, and was greeted by his friend, Toqh Brack'tar. Toqh was a hard-core Klingon, he had left the Empire because he had decided they had become too cowardly to protect themselves. He wanted real pillaging and battle, and had come to the Maquis in search of more battles to fight. Indeed, it had supplied him with many new battles to fight, and he thanked his friend, Skarr, all the way for it. Toqh had been given the USS Telemachus, the Maquis and Ferengi's only fully stolen Federation Heavy cruiser of such a type. Sure, they had several Oberth-class starships, and one or two Miranda class ships they had stolen, but nothing like a fully functional and operational Excelsior class ships.

"Welcome to Ferenginar, my lord, where it rains more than old Klingon dictators try to reign." Toqh said, smiling toothily. He was the most intelligent Klingon Skarr had met.

"Thank you, my friend. And tell me, how are you?" Skarr replied, smiling his calm, composed smile.

Toqh shrugged. "Well, you know...you wouldn't believe how incredibly stupid some Federation ship commanders are. The Telemachus can easily sit on our side of the Ferengi border, send out a distress call, and wait for the Federation idiots to fall into our trap. And they do, Skarr. It is very amusing to see the faces of Federation ship captains as we steal all their cargo and then obliterate them." Toqh said, chuckling quietly. This was a Klingon that knew how to live life.

Skarr replied, "It definitely sounds like the hobby repays you."

Toqh nodded, and said, "Ah, it does indeed."

"Tell me, is my special torpedo ready for usage?" Skarr said, looking at Toqh.

"Um, yes, my lord, but I have several questions about it before you put it into action. Isn't it a bit harsh to-"

He was cut off when Skarr said, "No, no, my good friend. it is not cruel until Starfleet responds no. Then, to them, it is cruel, but not to me. Until Starfleet responds to the single hail I will send them after the system is destroyed will it be cruel. Up until then, it will be an act of sheer will."

Skarr dictated this almost like a sermon. Toqh nodded, almost hypnotized by the way Skarr described it.

"I understand perfectly, my lord. I'll be waiting in the Dorion system for your word." Toqh nodded curtly, and waited for Skarr to dismiss him.

"You may go, my friend." Skarr said, looking towards the outside of the building.

Toqh murmured, "Yes, my lord," and left. Skarr shook his head. If the ripple-nose Voren Na'al hadn't been so obsessed with getting his ship back, maybe Skarr would not have to do this, and the Dorions could keep their lives. Ahh, well, I guess when dealing with the Federation, one must always be a bit blunt... He thought, before chuckling softly. His chuckle eminated into a laugh, and he erupted into evil laughter.

The Egypt entered Dorion space just to watch the sun eclipse the world of Dorion, a major contributor to the Federation. Dorion had gradutated some of the best science majors from Starfleet Academy, and had a better science prinicple than even Vulcan. The Egypt cruised slowly into orbit, as the sun of Dorion rose over the large M-class planet, casting light across the Egypt, and creating new shadows in nooks and crannies of the giant ship's hull plates.

The planet had always been the brainchild of new and different beliefs and theorems. Dorion's largest university, the Bladdeka Institute, turned out just as many philosophers as Vulcan did, perhaps more. The planet's bustling streets and near-catastrophic way of life made one wonder how they were able to create such fine scientists and philosophers. The Dorion system's only sun, a star much like Earth's own, blazed through the thick, rainy clouds of Dorion daily, almost reflecting the hope and curiosity that made all Dorions wonder about the stars. Dorion Minor, the small moon circling the bustling world, was a wealth of Duranium mining, which was happily contributed to the Federation by the Dorion Council of Elders.

It was then that the USS Australia blasted out of warp speed, and slowed to come to a cruising orbit beside the Egypt. An Emancipation class vessel, she was built largely for cargo carrying and transport. Her secondary hull reflected this, appearing too big a load for her standard warp engines.

On the bridge, Voren turned to Mara, and accidentally blurted out, "Wid, please cont-" He immediatly stopped himself when he noticed what he has said.

"Um...I'm sorry." He muttered quietly.

"Mara, please contact the Australia, tell her we're ready for the transport. Don says we need the cloak in the engine room." Mara nodded. She tapped the communication button, and spoke orders. The Australia altered her course slightly for a transporter equipment transfer.

The next thing Voren heard was, "All right, captain, let's go," from the engine room. Voren nodded. Don had his cloak. Voren looked back up at Mara.

"Please tell the Australia we thank her captain, and we must be going." Mara nodded, and sent another communication. When she finished speaking, Voren turned to Bobby Squit.

"Helm, please lay in a course for the Ferengi border and engage." Bobby nodded, and the Egypt's mighty warp engines blasted her into warp speed, leaving Dorion behind.

However, had they stayed a few seconds longer, they would have witnessed the Klingon Bird of Prey that decloaked and fired a solar probe at the star. It cloaked again, and was gone.

So was the Dorion system.

In a matter of minutes, the star's nuclear fusion coerced, falling in on itself, and beginning to nova. The Australia was gone; at warp five away from the system, she did not get to experience the giant shock wave which broke loose from the star's dying body, and was now eating up anything in its way. It shattered the first two smaller dead planets in its nearest orbit; its next stop was Dorion minor, which was shattered into pieces of asteroid as the shock wave ate it. Next came the major scientific planet, Dorion, which was blown to pieces of rock just as easily as the other was. In seconds, the shock wave decimated anything in the system until the it reached the outer perimeter of the solar system, and began to dissolve, until it was only a small, wispy cloud of Ions.

Only when there was a minor shudder through the Egypt did the crew know what had just happened.

It was only a small vibration, and it rocked the ship a bit, but other than that, the affect of the shock wave was unoticable. Nonetheless, Voren ordered a drop from warp to find out what happened.

"All right, let's find out what that was. We're about to head into a hostile system; I want to know if that we were fired upon or if that was a natural occurance." He said, standing from his chair on the bridge. Suddenly, a large burst of static blasted through the audio channel on the Egypt.

"What was that?" Voren said.

Cheval replied, "I don't know, do you want me to check it out?" Voren nodded, and began issuing orders.

"Cheval, scan the Dorion system, I want to find out if it came from there," Voren said, turning to Bobby, "...and Bobby, search for cloaked vessels. I want to know-"

Voren was cut off when Cheval said,

"Captain, there is no Dorion system."

"What?" Voren said, spinning to face her.

"I said, sir, there is no Dorion system. It just got obliterated when a solar shock wave was released from the sun. The entire system was just wiped out. Wait a minute...that means my brother is dead..." Cheval said, looking at Voren with obvious concern. Cheval covered her face with her hands. Voren heard her begin to weep. Voren staggered back to his chair. "Obliterated...Dorion..." he murmured, looking out at the main viewscreen. Just that second, the bridge screen's view of space was replaced with an image of the Maquis Realm's insignia. After that, Skarr appeared on the screen. Voren's eyes widened.

"He couldn't have..."

Voren looked around. Mara stood at the tactical wing above Voren's chair, eyes wide in disbelief. Cheval sat at the Sciences station, her Bolian blue skin beginning to flush purple in either sadness or anger-her brother lived on Dorion. Bobby stood from helm, and started walking towards Voren before Voren waved him back. Bobby sat back at the helm. Evan Palpatine was just as amazed as the rest of the bridge crew. He sat next to Voren on his right, and Jerrica sat on Voren's left. It was then that Skarr began to speak. "United Federation of Idiots, Klingon Empire of weaklings, and Romulan Alliance of pointy-eared twits, I speak to you from...ah-ah-ah, I can't tell you-you'd come and get me!"

Skarr laughed, before abruptly stopping. His face washed with seriousness again, and he continued.

"You all may have just found out what happened, if not, I shall tell you. The United Federation of Planets made a secret rendezvous in the Dorion system, launched one of the probes Tolian Soran himself deemed evil in nature, and left the system. Those of you listening, be aware that the Federation, your pitiful 'good guys,' just decimated the most science oriented system in the galaxy next to Vulcan, but, then again, why would they worry? They can't!"

Again, Skarr erupted into evil laughter. Evan Palpatine's hands both were balled up into fists, and he looked at the screen with overridden anger. Voren was very suprised.

"Evan, calm down, please. He's not even speaking directly to you." He said. Voren knew Evan had been raised by Vulcans, and he very usually didn't express much emotion. However, he could, Voren knew, and right now, Evan was mad. Skarr continued to spread propaganda on the main viewscreen, and Voren nodded at Mara. She was tapping on the communication panel.

"Captain, ever since this went on, I've been trying to get a fix on it, shut it off, anything, but I can't. if you'd like to try, your free to..." Mara waved her hand over the communication console in a gesture of openness. Skarr went right on talking. Voren walked to the console, and looked at the readouts. He looked down at the panel. A "operating channel-no source" beacon light flashed on and off, information on the Dorion system flew down one of the active monitors, and a small picture of Widiam Baahling sat at the top of the panel. Someone had dura-glued it there.

Voren looked up at Mara, who replied, "It was his helm station..." He was pretty sure he knew why it was glued there-no other tactical officer Voren had ever met came close to Widiam Baahling.

No wonder Mara wanted to remember him.

Voren smiled, and replied, "I won't ask you to remove this picture, but I want you to remember something-he is gone, and I can't bring him back no matter how much power I have. Now, have you made any progress on its source?"

Mara nodded out of her memorial reverie, and said, "Only a start. The signal is eminating from a communication relay station off of the Ferengi border. It's obvious that that station is getting the hail from inside Ferengi space."

Voren nodded in consent. "I agree. And, again, there's nothing you can do to get Mr. Motormouth Skarr off the-" Voren was cut off when Skarr said the name of his ship. Voren's attention snapped to the screen.

"...when the USS Egypt beamed the solar probe over from the USS Austrailia and launched it. As you can easily see, these are the traitors. We here in the Maquis, though having no like of your people, just wanted to point out what Starfleet was so desperatly trying to cover up. Now then, good day." Skarr smiled that evil smile of his one last time, and his image left the viewscreen.

Voren walked to Cheval, and said, "Cheval, do you wish to go to your quarters for a while?" Cheval shook her head no, replying, "No, that's all right, captain, I just...oh, Bevall..." She was still crying, yet she resumed her duties. Voren was steaming angry.

"Are we still on course for the Ferengi border?"

"Yes, Captain." Bobby replied to a rather angry-looking captain.

"Increase speed to maximum warp." Voren clenched both his fists. First, Skarr killed his tactical officer and his friend. Then he decimated Dorion, killing Cheval's brother. Now he was insulting Voren's pride.

He had just gone one step too far.

Voren's eyes were filled with hatred. "Your mine, Skarr, mine." If you think the story's good up to here, there's much more to come! E-mail the author and ask me for the rest! I can send it to you via .DOC format, or .TXT format!