[Y162 - KZINTI FLEET REPAIR DOCK #3]

It takes almost two weeks to get a tug out to rendezvous with the Mysterion, and another week to reach the nearest repair dock. By the time she pulls in for repairs, the crew has heard the news of the Klingons' plea for peace, and subsequent cessation of hostilities. While the analysts ponder this development, Firemane, the Mysterion, and a third of her crew are put back together.

While he sits on the sidelines, Firemane hears of Bristlewind's frigate being involved in an ambush by some Orion pirates. While the ambush is deemed a failure by the Kzinti propaganda machine, Firemane learns that the frigate Bristlewind was on was destroyed during the battle. It is only hours before he is scheduled to ship out again that Firemane discovers his friend somehow managed to survive the combat, and is returning on another ship. The Fates conspire to prevent the two from seeing each other, but Firemane scrawls a hasty note for his friend and competitor, leaving it with another classmate now working for the security section of this fleet repair dock.

Windi,

Glad to hear you survived your scuffle with the thieves. Too bad your ship didn't. I'm interested in hearing any unclassified details, though I'll probably figure it out myself, depending on where you're stationed next. Maybe you'll move up to a real ship.

Speaking of moving up, I'm now part of the bridge crew: S.O. C-shift. I'm hoping there will be more to do on the bridge. They never prepared us for all the dead time in space while we were at the Institute. With the war over, it'll probably just get worse though. My engine project got scrapped. My hardware melted, and my specs got zapped by the technical computer-dump done when we were boarded. My hard copies? In my quarters, until the hull was breached. Besides, my prototype had a small bug in it, but that's classified. I gave all the info I could to weapons development. They think my research may actually have some promise in increasing drone velocity, though they say that it'll be several years before they produce any prototypes.

Captain Darkstar's pretty good. He's tough, but he's fair. He also has a wicked sense of humor. I think the doctor injected him with it. Go look at the commendations board when you get in. I think even you will be impressed. Most of the Personal Sacrifice awards for my shipmates came during boarding combat. I know that the numbers are pretty high, but fighting at close quarters often has its ups and downs. Gotta run now.

Lieutenant 3rd, Firemane

p.s. Try to avoid getting your leg broken. It's not a fun experience.

Hearty laughter booms out into the crowded but surprisingly quiet docking gate of the repair facility. The passers-by look at the shaggy, gray cat as he shoves a piece of paper into his tunic, grabs the cane leaning on his chair, gets up stiffly and somewhat awkwardly, thanks to the vibro-cast on his left leg. Bristlewind hobbles off toward the Commendations board, still chuckling and shaking his head.

***

[Y164 - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

It is nearing the end of his shift, and Firemane is as usual working to optimize the ship's scanners. The door to the bridge slides open, and the striking, black figure of the Captain strides into the room.

"Good morning, Captain Darkstar," the Exec says, standing to relinquish the command seat to his superior.

As usual Darkstar waves his tan first officer back into the chair and begins circling the bridge to make his assessment of his junior bridge personnel. Arriving two hours before his scheduled shift is a sure sign of an unofficial inspection.

Even seated, the cats present all snap to attention when Darkstar enters the bridge. All, that is, except Firemane, so caught up in his work, he is apparently unaware of the Captain's entrance. Darkstar notices this and inwardly smiles, though no clue of this emotion shows in his eyes.

Darkstar stops and questions each crew member for two or three minutes, working his way slowly around the bridge to get to Firemane last. Firemane remains oblivious to the Captain's presence the entire time. The Captain peers over Firemane's shoulder to see what it is that the auburn cat is working on.

"Good morning, Captain," Firemane says without pausing from his work, or showing any sign of when he became aware of the Captain's presence.

"And to you. What is it this time? More power expansion?"

"No, sir. The directives from Command Central were extremely clear about no further field testing warp enhancement tech, so I've given up on that. Besides, I kept running into that same power escalation problem. I think it's a dead-end, unless we discover some other materials or something, though it might be of some use in speeding up drones, being they're expendable and short-lived anyway."

"Makes sense. Faster drones could really help our offensive potential," the Captain nods, recalling the classified report he received only last week informing him that the R&D branch had only weeks before had their first successful lab test using his young lieutenant's power booster on drones.

"What I'm working on now, sir, is optimizing our scanners. It's kind of tricky, but I'm working at it from both ends. By adding more variables into the fire control computer I can get more accurate information, but this slows down the processing too much. So I started making larger assumptions on smaller bits of data. You see T-wave patterns are really just a sub-division of QZ3 radiation, so I can drop the QZ3 computation from the program if there's any T-wave activity detected."

"Uh-huh."

"Yes. And when I saw that, I realized if Delta-B echoes are present then . . . "

"That's very good, Lieutenant. Write it up and I'll take a look at it sometime. Um . . . what's the result?"

"Oh. To move present scanning parameters about 10,000 kilometers closer. Thirty-K now will be like twenty-K when I get it working. But, even minor changes in the sensitivity of the sensor array fouls the new programming up, so I have to keep fiddling with it constantly, otherwise the benefits disappear."

"Excellent!" the Captain comments before turning around and finally taking the command seat from the Operations Officer. As he takes the seat, he asks the Commander, "Did you read the latest news flash? They claim the Council of Six is going to try and obtain a trade agreement with the Federation."

"Pah," Commander Swishtail sneers, "We shouldn't need to sign agreements with inferior species."

"True, but ever since that kit, uh kid, J'rard was returned, the Terrans have been making overtures for us to join their Federation. And with the losses we suffered having to fight the Klingons and Lyrans together during the Four Powers war, the Council has been more receptive to the idea of using them as an ally," the Captain notes.

"Yes, sir. But I don't see it. We don't need their help. They're soft. Always negotiating." the Commander snaps off this last word with considerable disdain.

"Ah, but while we might not need their help, we can certainly use it. A treaty with them could definitely take some Klingon pressure off our borders."

"And probably add even more Lyran pressure!" Swishtail protests.

Darkstar nods. "Point well taken. However, we do share a border with the Federation, and ugly as they are, they are still easier to stomach than those squishy tree stumps, the Hydrans."

"With that at least, I must agree with you," the Commander purrs.

"Also, the way the Terrans have managed to get so many different cultures to work for them is frankly amazing. Though I personally find it distasteful for them to pretend their subjects have equal status. But then again, this illusion of equality they promote to their pets has apparently been extremely effective in preventing revolts after they have conquered their inferiors. One of their strengths seems to be their ability to adapt to new species, though they are much too trusting."

"Yes, it's their most obvious weakness. But I still marvel at how they can trust other species so readily, when some of their own resort to piracy like the Orions -- not only against other species, but even against the Terrans themselves. That environment should create a race that is ultimately paranoid -- how can they justify trusting a completely alien culture, when their own is so . . . barbaric?"

Darkstar sniffs indifferently. "Who knows? Alien psyche profiles and cultural evaluations are always a little screwy. The data we've gathered about the Terrans points to a culture filled with crime, war, even brutality against one's own blood."

"Sickening," Swishtail spits.

"I agree. But their technology is impressive, and it will be easier to ultimately defeat the Lyrans and Klingons with the Federation as an ally," the Captain says.

"What you say may be true. But I still don't care for alliances. We're strong enough to protect ourselves!" Swishtail concludes with authority.

"From one foe at a time, yes. But the Klingon/Lyran alliance has complicated the picture. And the Hydrans just are not strong enough to do more than place token pressure on our enemies. They are preferable to the Federation as allies, of course, though since they do not share a border and they don't need oxygen worlds, making them no real threat to our ultimate expansion. Besides, our leadership still has not made any final decisions on any new alliances. However, our covert trade with the Terrans is definitely increasing. They are always underselling their stuff anyway. If we can ink a good trade deal we'll have an advantage over both the Lyrans and the Klingons."

"What covert trade?" Swishtail asks, cocking his head to one side.

"Are you familiar with the computer simulation Galactic Conquest?"

"Yes. I've seen it, but I've never played myself."

"It was originally a Terran game."

"Did you say Galactic Conquest was a Terran game, sir?" Firemane interrupts.

Darkstar and Swishtail turn toward Firemane, wondering why the normally silent lieutenant has jumped into the conversation.

"Yes, Firemane. Have you played?"

After a pause Firemane responds, "Sort of. But the version I saw had detailed starmaps of Kzinti space. The Terrans couldn't have had that kind of knowledge about our territory."

"Of course not. Some enterprising computer wonks got their claws on the game and adapted it using standard celestial navigation charts. I understand they've made a bundle off the sale of the game."

"I bet. Umm, sir. How exactly is it that a starship Captain knows so much about a computer game?"

This time the Captain pauses before responding, surveying the room as if looking for a Lyran spy hiding in a corner. "Well," he says, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably, "I have some friends in the intelligence branch who told me that when the game first showed up, the starmaps of the Terran territory were examined thoroughly, and it was determined that the celestial charts were much better than the ones we had at the time. It is also my understanding that every current star chart concerning systems inside the Terran borders is actually derived from that game."

Swishtail purrs heartily at the revelation, while Firemane sits stoically, only his whiskers twitching slightly.

The Captain continues, "Can you imagine anything more ridiculous than basing your intelligence reports on information extracted from a video game?"

Firemane's ears flick as he responds, "No, I can't think of a thing any more ludicrous than that, sir."

As Firemane turns back to his console, the Captain waves at Swishtail, saying, "You're dismissed, Commander. I don't guess I need you to help me watch the stars go by. Go get some breakfast. Or would it be supper for you?"

"Lunch actually. Thank you, Captain," he says, moving toward the exit. As he is about to step into the mover, the Comm-officer speaks. "Captain, we are picking up a strange interference pattern on a low band subspace frequency."

"Any idea what it is?"

The communications specialist puzzles over the information being displayed on his console for a few moments before responding, "None, sir."

"Sir," Firemane interrupts. "I've routed the interference patterns into the sensor translation table, and I have a theory as to what's causing the static."

"Go on," the Captain instructs as Swishtail moves to the science console to peer over Firemane's shoulder as the lieutenant works.

"The Federation uses a quantum-gravitic warp drive rather than our more efficient gravo-magnetic drive. According to the Lemonmane Theorem, an object approaching the limits in realized velocity through gravitic-quantum propulsion might cause an ionic disruption in the stellar fabric. The disruption in the subspace frequency is consistent with such a theoretical ionic disturbance."

"Which means?"

"There's a good chance a Federation or possibly, Klingon vessel is tearing across the cosmos at uncontrolled warp speed, very possibly beyond the specs of said vessel."

"Can you get a fix on it?"

"A general idea, at least. I've routed the tracking information to the navigation console. We should be able to home in on the static. At least as long as they continue to exceed their normal speed threshold."

"Anything else?"

"No, sir. Except there's no way to tell for certain who it is until we're practically on top of them. The Klingons use a quite similar design, though the Federation's generates a slightly higher polaric frequency modulation."

The Comm-officer interrupts with a soft growl.

"What is it, Ashmane?" the Captain asks.

"I've managed to clean up the interference enough to make out a distress call."

"What are the details of the call?"

"It's highly garbled, sir. However, it appears that Lieutenant Firemane was correct. It is a Federation distress call. However, it is not a military signal, but appears to be from a commercial vessel of some sort. And sir, if the range/bearing calculations are even close, that ship's in the neutral zone."

Several ears twitch nervously at this revelation. The Captain doesn't hesitate in responding. "Understood. Helmsman. Plot a course toward the interference and engage when laid in. Comm: send to Central Command. Responding to distress call from what appears to be a commercial Federation vessel. Leaving assigned patrol sector per order Tango-tango-tango. Darkstar, Captain, CL Mysterion."

"Coded and sent, sir."

"Can you give me an E.T.A. to source of the signal, Helmsman?"

"Six point five hours at warp six," Firemane answers before the navigator starts his calculation.

"Warp six, helmsman."

"Aye, Captain," the helmsman confirms.

"Why warp six, Firemane?" Darkstar asks his lieutenant.

"It is the maximum speed we can sustain for that long without risking damage to the engines."

Darkstar nods, then raises a questioning whisker at Firemane.

"Also, at anything less, we would arrive during someone else's shift, sir." Firemane responds, not blinking an eye.

Darkstar suppresses the urge to flick his ears at the reply, remembering the days when he was young and headstrong like this red kit. "But your shift should end very soon, Lieutenant."

"Normally it would, sir. However, I'm scheduled for a double-shift today, because Lieutenant Goldentail is teaching a class on subspace anomalies later this morning."

"I see, Lieutenant." the Captain answers, considering whether he should have the class canceled to insure his most senior science officer is present when they reach the neutral zone.

Hoping to humble his brash, young Sensor Operator enough to keep his ego in check, the Captain asks, "Have your improved scanners picked up anything on the Terran ship yet?" Knowing it will be hours before a ship is even detected on sensors or scanners, he is surprised with Firemane's reply.

"Well, there is no detectable alteration in trajectory as yet, though its course is non-parabolic, which supports the hypothesis that the ship has gone ballistic. Also, the properties of several of the ionic sidebands indicate some unusual power fluctuations. Any natural phenomena that might cause this type of interference would possess a slightly different phasing ratio."

"Any conclusions?"

"Not enough hard data to draw any real conclusions, sir," Firemane sighs.

"Speculations, then?"

"I would guess the vessel has suffered damage to her warp engines, sending her into an uncontrolled sprint through open space, probably without any navigational control."

"You surmising all that from her transmission?"

"It's only a guess, sir. It could also be a trap of some sort. But traps are generally sprung much more effectively with stealth than with sending up a flare to everyone in the known universe, saying 'Here I am'. I'd say it is probably a genuine emergency."

"Very well. Return to your scanners, and inform me if you deduce anything else."

"Yes sir," says Firemane with a triumphant flick of his ears.

As the Captain turns back to watch the stars race by on the forward viewscreen, the Comm-officer speaks again, "Sir, FF24 is hailing us."

"On screen."

The stars are replaced with the face of an old cat, sitting in the center of an insultingly small bridge. "Greetings, Captain Darkstar. This is Captain Whiskerthin. Your transmission to Central Command was relayed to us. Would you like some company?"

Darkstar stifles the urge to tell the obscenely overweight cat 'No, you're not my type.' Instead he answers, "Yes. That could prove helpful."

"We will intercept you at . . . 097401 mark . . . three."

"Understood. Darkstar out."

The screen returns to the rapidly moving starfield.

"Disengage warp drive," Darkstar orders.

"Returning to real space. Impulse engine engaged," the helmsman says. The timbre of the background hum changes ever so slightly and a faint tingle tickles at the whiskers of all aboard as the ship drops out of warp space.

"I have her on sensors," announces Firemane only minutes later. "She's coming in too fast. She's going to overshoot."

The frigate, speeding in like a bat out of hell, slows and banks in a large spiral, going first under, then over, the Mysterion, ending in perfect parade formation, 20,000 kilometers off the Light Cruiser's right rear quarter.

"Who's the idiot flying that ship?" Darkstar asks rhetorically.

"Captain Whiskerthin hailing us, sir," the Comm-officer answers.

"On screen," the Captain says irritably as the face of Whiskerthin reappears on the forward viewscreen.

"Let me apologize for my helmsman, Captain. He gets a little exuberant at times. He'll be properly reprimanded I assure you," Whiskerthin purrs.

"If he flies like that I want to reprimand him myself. Transfer him over to me. I'll take him off your claws."

"A tempting offer, for I fear this kit will have my job before too long. But he's not for sale."

"I thought everything you had was for sale," Darkstar responds contemptuously.

Whiskerthin ignores the barb. "Not this one. Top of his class. Set all kinds of records at The Institute. Finished ahead of your own prodigy, I understand."

Firemane looks up, realizing who is flying the frigate beside them.

Darkstar glances at Firemane, then continues his discussion. "That would be . . . Lieutenant Bristlewind, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, yes. But he's my second now. You know, commendations, promotions, that kind of thing."

"Second in Command? In under three years. Impressive."

"He's just waiting for me to retire. I'm sure that's why he chose to accept this particular assignment when he graduated. He knew I was nearing retirement. Probably didn't expect me to last this long. I'm glad he chose me though, because he saved my life in our little escapade with the Orions a couple of years back. We showed them a thing or two."

"Really? I understand you showed them what a Kzinti frigate looks like when it explodes."

The bridge crew of the Mysterion purr quietly at the comment, except Firemane.

Whiskerthin looks indignantly at Darkstar, saying, "That's not fair! You know the real story."

"Yes, yes, yes. My prodigy only blew up half my ship that year, but that is ancient history for all concerned. It's time for our shift to change, so why don't you transport over and we'll talk over breakfast."

"Excellent suggestion," Whiskerthin purrs, patting his bulbous belly.

"Commander, you have the Conn. You get to pull a double shift. Don't look so surprised. That's what you get when you disobey orders. I dismissed you ages ago, and you're still here, so I guess you'll stay for awhile," Darkstar chuckles as he relinquishes the command seat.

***

[BRIDGE - FEDERATION CRUISE SHIP AL RASHID]

"Captain Reeger, the passengers are starting to get antsy about being cooped up in their cabins. It has been almost eight hours, sir, and morale is getting low. Could we perhaps grant limited access to the gaming deck or the physical conditioning room?"

The Captain runs his fingers through his close cropped, thinning, silver hair. He notes the blood-shot blue eyes of his boatswain, and feels for the fifty-five year old officer. He glances about the spacious bridge, feeling as old as the decorative fixtures designed to make the command post seem like that of a Spanish Galleon from centuries past.

He rises from his cushioned seat, moving to the large oak wheel that dominates the front of the room. He grasps the handles at ten and two o'clock. The comforting feel he normally draws from the anachronism while 'manning the helm' of his ship does not come this time. The illusion of being in control by grasping the spokes of the giant wheel fails to materialize. He knows he is control of nothing. With his proud ship adrift in space, light years from the nearest safe port, he can only wait and hope that his crew can repair their mangled engines enough to at least get them moving.

He turns to his boatswain, still waiting patiently for his reply. "Once we're under way again, Kelly, maybe. But we're in no-man's-land right now. It'll probably be a few days before we're listed as overdue and a ship of the fleet can be sent to look for us, unless out distress call was actually heard by someone."

"With the Klingons' raid on Rita's Planet, Starfleet is on high alert. I'm sure they've got every listening post in the quadrant sifting through every stray signal out here," Kelly says with conviction.

"I agree the chances are good, but we have no idea what effect the engine overload had on the transmission characteristics. If it garbled the signal too much, no one will be looking for us anytime soon. Of course, even if a starship is available they'll have to search for us -- and even if they know where we are, it will take them longer to get here than it did us." The Captain takes a deep breath, knowing he is rambling, but is too tired to really care.

"Why is it, Kelly," the Captain continues in a more jovial tone, "that the engines choose to go nuts at the end of a long shift when all my top people are tired, instead of at the start of a shift when everyone's fresh?"

"Murphy's Law," Kelly says without hesitation.

"Amen to that," he concedes before resuming his command voice. "Everyone is still confined to quarters until we're mobile again. Any estimates on that from Chief McMurtry?"

"Not recently. His opinion is the warp drive can be reactivated, but there's a ton of rerouting to do. Whatever it was we hit, it really whacked the drive hard, but Chief still isn't really sure what caused the runaway. He says the replays from the drive logs were really fouled up. He said the gravity sensors went right off the scale, like we ran through the center of a star -- except there was no radiation, heat or light.

"What about the Impulse Engines?"

"Beggin' your pardon Cap'n, but the impulse drive isn't going to be much use out here. On impulse alone we would get back home in about a hundred and fifty years, so Chief's not working on bringing it back on line. According to Ensign Briley, though, it could probably be brought on line in less than an hour."

"We may not be able to get home on impulse, but I'd prefer to have some mobility, if for no other reason than to calm the passengers. They paid for a nice, slow, pleasurable cruise through the cosmos, not a mad dash into uncharted space. Don't dare let this spread to the crew, but where we ended up is right on the junction between Kzinti and Klingon space. Not to mention the possibility of pirates showing up."

"I'm afraid that's no secret, sir. Seems one of the passengers is some astro-physicist on his way to a conference on New Ireland, and after we dropped back out of warp, he took some sightings from the observation deck and let the cat out of the bag."

Captain Reeger, leans forward, banging his head lightly on the oaken fixture three times. He grimaces, pulling his head away from the wheel, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head in disbelief. "Kelly, go back down to the Engine Room and tell Ensign Briley to go ahead and bring the impulse drive back on line, but be sure Chief McMurtry checks his work first. And Kelly . . . don't bring me any more good news."

The boatswain salutes the Captain and exits the bridge.

"Shannon, bring up the passenger list and see if we've got anymore experts of any sort on board. Out of two hundred passengers, hopefully we'll have some skilled people who may be able to help out if this becomes an extended detour."

"I can tell you one, right off, sir," the blonde, blue-eyed Activities Coordinator and number two computer operator says. "We've got a Starfleet Security trainee aboard."

"We do?!" the Captain asks, hopefully.

"Yes, sir. I talked with her by the pool a couple of times. Her name is Virginia Johnson."

"Wait. What's a Starfleet trainee doing on a pleasure boat?" Reeger asks cautiously.

"Typical snafu. She was scheduled out to a perimeter base to complete some procedural training. But the supply freighter she was supposed to go on got rerouted at the last minute. It was going to be another month before another scheduled Starfleet ship would make the run. But someone in logistics could actually read a commercial flight schedule, so they shoved her on here," she says, smiling sweetly.

The Captain's waves enthusiastically toward the door as he orders, "Go see if you can locate her, Shannon. Even half a Security officer would be helpful right now."

"Aye, Captain," Shannon smiles as she exits the bridge.

"Well, Travis, it's just me and you now," Reeger says to his sensor operator.

The dark-skinned lieutenant looks up from his instruments, not at the Captain, but at the forward view screen. "I don't think so," he says nervously.

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

"Federation vessel dead ahead, sir. Sensors indicate their engines are non-functional. No movement detected. They have at least stopped her from drifting," Firemane informs his Captain.

"Bring us in slow helmsman," Darkstar commands.

The pilot of the CL complies, while the smaller frigate stays a discreet distance behind, both Captains still wary of an ambush.

"They're hailing us, sir," the communications specialist announces.

"Click them. No discussion until we have a thorough scan. Warm the phasers."

Firemane, already conducting the scan, begins his report, even as his skilled claws dance across his console. "It is definitely not a warship sir. They have a great many ship designs, but unless I miss my guess, it's a simple tug with passenger and cargo pods attached. Their Atomic Power Reactor is out. No weapons except phasers. Hull scan indicates some residual radiation -- type unknown. The ship may have come into contact with a quantum singularity. Depending on where it intersected the ship, there's no telling what sort of havoc it could have wreaked inside."

"A singularity, you say?" Darkstar asks as he contemplates the ship on his veiwscreen.

"Perhaps," Firemane answers. "But without access to their engineering logs, I can really only guess what they hit -- or what hit them."

Darkstar waves his sensor operator into silence. "Open communication channel. Put their Captain on screen."

The nervous but smiling face of the Al Rashid's Captain fills the forward view screen of the Mysterion. Darkstar's first thought is that this human is standing too close to the screen, making his nose disproportionately large, compared to normal human noses. The bushy mustache under the nose appeals to Darkstar, who finds humans generally more appealing when they have facial hair. The Terran Captain speaks, "Are we glad to see you!"

Not grasping the significance of the accent on the word 'we', Darkstar is slightly confused at what he believes to be a question.

"You need not fear Captain. We plan no hostilities against your ship. There would be no sport in it. I am Captain Darkstar of the Mysterion. Can we be of assistance?"

Commander Swishtail growls softly and Darkstar stares him into silence instantly, while the human Captain fidgets noticeably.

The comment about "no sport in it" does nothing to assuage Captain Reeger's nerves. "Um . . . well I'm not sure. Oh, I'm Captain Sanderson Reeger. Yes, uh . . . we maybe could use some help. Our warp drive controller is out and we've sustained some minor structural damage. What we really need is a tow to a Terran star base."

Before Darkstar can reply the viewscreen shifts. Reeger's face to the right side of the screen and Whiskerthin's fat form on the left.

"Excuse me for interrupting, Captains. But you both know we as yet have no treaty. Towing you to a Kzinti starbase would be much easier for us, considering fuel consumption, strain on the engines, etc."

"You um . . . make a good point, but Captain er . . . "

"Captain Whiskerthin," the fat cat purrs cordially.

"Umm . . . Captain Whiskerthin. We are willing to . . . compensate you for your troubles."

Darkstar's eyes burn with anger at being interrupted by the old fat Kzinti commanding the lowly frigate.

"Captains!" he interrupts, "I suggest we make up our minds quickly. This is not the best location in the galaxy to have a chat. If we detected your distress call, you can rest assured the Klingons did as well."

As if on cue, a voice from an unseen human chimes in clearly over the speakers on both Kzinti ships, "Two vessels approaching, coming out of warp at ten o'clock!"

Firemane takes a few seconds to find them on his sensors. Damn, he thinks, How could they detect them at that range?

The two ships slow to a crawl only seconds after dropping out of warp. The view screen shows the unmistakable design of two Klingons warships. Each Captain pauses to assess the suddenly complex situation. Darkstar suspects quite correctly the Klingons are very surprised to find a pair of Kzinti ships parked beside the crippled Terran ship they were planning to 'assist'.

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

"Three ships, Captain Kith." the Klingon sensor operator informs the Captain of the D6 Malicious.

"Blast! How did the Earthers get rescue ships out here so quickly?!"

"Sir, those are not Terran rescue ships beside the pleasure liner -- you won't believe this -- it's two Kzinti warships -- a CL and a frigate."

"Kzinti?!" Kith spits angrily. "They will not rob us of our prize!"

"Captain, the CL is Mysterion."

A smile grows on Kith's face -- a smile that would frighten wolves. "Even better. Open hailing frequency to the Federation Captain," he orders, as he quickly decides how best to turn the unexpected presence of the Kzinti to his advantage. "Federation ship, this is Captain Kith of the Klingon rescue vessel Malicious. Our sister ship, the Harrasser and I picked up your distress call and came at once to render aid. We shall protect you from the Kzinti pirates. Kzinti ships surrender or be destroyed."

"This is Captain Reeger of the Federation Cruise Liner Al Rashid. We appreciate your offer, but we have things under control. The Kzinti have already offered their services, and we won't be needing any further assistance."

Kith doesn't hesitate an instant before responding. "It is obvious to me from the damage inflicted upon your vessel, the Kzinti attacked you and intend to capture you. You are obviously saying these things under duress. If you can, lower your deflectors we shall beam over our commandos to defend your ship."

"Captain Kith, that is really not necessary," Reeger urges strenuously.

With a wave of Kith's hand the channel is closed.

"Arm all weapons, load scatterpack. Attack speed." The crew of the Malicious respond enthusiastically.

"Sir, Captain Krieze on secure channel two."

"On screen."

"Kith, we're arming weapons. What is our target?"

Kith grins at the form of Krieze on his viewer. "We shall destroy that accursed CL Mysterion first. Then we shall take the Terran pleasure boat home with us. The frigate is of little concern."

"Kith, our scans indicate the Terran may be powering up maneuvering engines. If it escapes, there will be severe political consequences."

"Really?" Kith fairly roars, furious at his subordinate's audacity at questioning his commands.

"The Terran swine will report the Kzinti attempted to rescue them and then we attacked. If the Terran news nets get wind of this, it may help spur their treaty talks."

"We are not politicians, Krieze! And I have a score to settle with that CL."

"We are all politicians, my Lord. Kith, you know as well as I that we cannot let that Terran ship escape at all costs."

"That's your opinion," Kith fumes, though his hesitation tells Krieze he has won. "But even if I were willing to concede the point, how would you suggest we ensure the Terrans do not leave?"

"We have no idea how soon a Federation war ship may arrive to help. We can destroy the frigate in a single pass, which should take the wind out of the pussycats' sails. They have no real interest here. They won't bother to stick around to save a Terran ship they care nothing about after we've bloodied their nose. Then we can board the liner at our leisure."

"And if the Kzinti don't leave after we've destroyed the frigate?"

"Then we cripple the CL if we can, and if not, we destroy the Terran ship and leave."

Kith sighs, knowing Krieze is correct. "Okay, Krieze, we shall concentrate our fire on the frigate. But if the CL leaves, we capture the liner as planned. Kith out."

"Harrasser out."

The two Klingon warships close in, while the Kzinti ships consolidate with the liner, before stopping beside the nearly defenseless ship to perform tactical maneuvers. All three vessels put maximum power into jamming the Klingon sensors in preparation for the coming barrage. Both Kzinti ships launch ECM drones to increase the jamming, while the tug begins arming wild weasels and warming its phaser capacitor.

If the Kzinti crews could monitor either Klingon bridge they would have added a number of Klingon oaths to their already impressive lexicon. The jamming is too much for the Klingon ships to overcome. Though they fire their disruptors from 130,000kms, only one bolt from each ship finds its mark, denting the forward shield of the Kzinti frigate nominally.

The Kzinti ships return fire with their own disruptors, but only one of their three shots is true. The Harrasser's #1 shield is reduced minimally.

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

"Krieze!" Kith snaps at the viewscreen, as his comrade replaces the forms of the enemy ships. "We cannot weaken their shields from long range as long as those blasted ECM drones survive. You go in and phaser them down, and I'll follow with a full spread of overloads."

Krieze's eyes show his rage at being ordered in first, but after a brief pause responds through clenched teeth, "Understood."

When the channel is closed, and Kith's face disappears from his view, Krieze curses at his commander's plan, because it will mean the Harrasser will receive the brunt of the Kzinti attack, while the Malicious follows in safely behind.

As the Klingons position themselves for their battle pass, the Kzinti begin launching drones at the Klingons. With disruptors ready and phasers armed, the Kzinti wait for the Klingons to roll in.

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

On Mysterion, one drone rack is put on stand-by to be reloaded, while the other racks launch. Darkstar knows by establishing a stationary, defensive posture it will make things more difficult for the Klingons to get a shot at their weaker rear deflectors. He also is aware of his own inexperience with humans, and concentrates intensely on the forward view screen, weighing his options as to whether he should stay or leave.

"Captain," Firemane says, "According to their markings, that's the same pair of Klingon ships that nearly captured us -- the Malicious and Harrasser."

Darkstar's decision is made for him. We fight.

Flicking a switch on the control panel of his chair's armrest, Darkstar speaks, and his voice echoes throughout the Mysterion as well as being transmitted to FF24, parked snugly beside. "Now hear this. Now hear this. The Klingons are attempting to capture or destroy the Federation Tug we came to assist. On my authority, we are going to stay and help protect the Federation ship. Communications departments will coordinate to establish a secure comm-link with the Al Rashid. Until such a link is established, assume any transmissions to or from the Tug are in the open. These are the same two Klingon ships which nearly captured the Mysterion. Now is our chance for revenge. You all know your jobs. Darkstar out."

"Energy build up . . . " Firemane says.

"Maximum power to shields," Darkstar commands.

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI FRIGATE FF24]

On FF24, Whiskerthin sends Bristlewind to the Emergency Bridge, "Your skills as pilot won't be needed while we're sitting still. Now get going."

Bristlewind begrudgingly exits the bridge of the frigate.

Whiskerthin scratches his fat belly nervously, his eyes glued to the view screen and the approaching adversaries. The Harrasser, leading the much larger Malicious in, stays 20,000 kilometers ahead of the D6, making every weapon the Kzinti have less effective against Kith's vessel, and more effective against the poor Harrasser. The F5 is forced to tractor one of the incoming Kzinti drones, though its mobility is enough to avoid another, which the Malicious swats away like a pesky mosquito before it can turn to pursue the frigate. Nonetheless, the small Klingon ship expends most of its arsenal defensively before it reaches primary attack range.

The Kzinti drones accomplish two things. The Harrasser is robbed of the bulk of its offensive potential, even being forced to use one of its drones against a Kzin drone. As the F5 turns and closes to 30,000km it sets off a transporter bomb the Kzinti frigate laid the instant it saw the Klingons. This explosion weakens the forward screen of the Harrasser, but it also destroys the drone the Klingon frigate has in tow. The blinding flash affects the aim of the Klingon phaser crews as both ECM drones survive the single phaser-two fired at each. The next instant, while the F5 is using the last of its phasers to burn down the ECM drones, the Kzinti frigate launches a drone at the Harrasser and then both Kzinti ships open fire on the smaller Klingon warship.

Two overloads hit the F5, followed by every phaser the Kzinti ships have bearing. The Mysterion's phaser-threes do phenomenal damage considering the range as a deep gash is cut into the Harrasser by the alpha strike.

On Mysterion, the bridge crew cheers the damage they've inflicted on the Klingons, even as their ship pivots to bring their remaining phasers to bear. The cheering ends abruptly when the Malicious and Harrasser return fire.

The Harrasser hits with its lone disruptor, the other destroyed by the Kzinti strike. The D6 however, misses with two of its four overloads. But the phaser barrage from the Klingon cruiser dances across the hull of the tiny Kzinti frigate, gouging great chunks out of the tiny vessel.

The frigate's limited weapons arsenal is all but destroyed by the onslaught from the Klingon vessels. But by the kind hand of The Fates, her engines are barely scratched, as her power drops by only a modest twenty percent. On the smoke filled bridge, a Lieutenant helps Captain Whiskerthin off the deck. As he's being helped up, Whiskerthin watches the sporadic images of the enemy ships on his forward view screen. Knowing he cannot afford to present the down shield to the D6's rear phasers, he yells, "Impulse turn! Hard to starboard." The frigate's nose comes around rotating her down shield away from the Malicious' weaponry. In the confusion, no one pays much attention to the Terran liner adding a pair of phasers to the last salvo against the Klingon ships.

As the frigate pivots, Whiskerthin notices from the readout at the bottom of the view screen that the Malicious has closed to a frightfully close 20,000 kilometers. "Fire anything we've got left!" he coughs weakly, knowing his small ship cannot withstand another barrage like the last one. The frigate fires its last phaser at the Malicious, denting its #2 shield, but the Klingon cruiser moves to 10,000 kilometers. Both Kzinti ships are forced to sit and watch, as they wait for their weapons to recharge. But every Kzinti present is surprised when instead of firing, the Malicious attaches a tractor, snaring the helpless frigate.

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

On the Mysterion, Darkstar watches helplessly as the frigate moves away, caught in the Klingon's grasp.

"Sir, I detect a t-bomb dead ahead."

"Damn! No power to tractor it and no phasers to sweep it with."

He considers whether he should target the frigate in order to destroy her to prevent her capture by the Klingons. But before he is forced to make that choice, he is pleasantly surprised when the Al Rashid reaches out with its own tractor and snatches the frigate away from the Klingon warship. He is certain his howls of triumph are being echoed with howls of rage on the Klingon bridge.

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

With their prize stolen from them by the Terran's interference, on the Malicious, Kith directs his navigator to maneuver the D6 in front of the frigate, The D6 launches a single drone at the frigate before firing his last pair of phasers. The frigate manages to place its fresh #6 shield toward the Klingon ship before it fires, but this does not stop the phasers from peeling it away. The Klingon drone then slams into the already weakened hull, exploding even as it sets off the t-bomb laid by the Klingon cruiser only moments before. The small mine damages shields of both Kzinti ships as well as denting one of the Federation Tug's shields.

While the t-bomb only damages the shields protecting the ships, the drone wreaks havoc on the internal structure of the Kzinti frigate. The blast destroys the bridge of the frigate, and with it Whiskerthin. When the alert klaxon goes dead, the Kzintis still alive on the frigate do not need a damage report to realize how badly they are hurt. With only 7% power still operational the ship lists to one side as the internal gyros begin disintegrating.

[EMERGENCY BRIDGE - KZINTI FRIGATE FF24]

A nervous group of young cats wait in the Secondary Bridge. Bristlewind tries to call the bridge and gets only static. Nudging the sensor operator out of the way, he adjusts the controls to lock onto his bridge. The equipment bleeps with the harsh tone signifying it cannot get a clear lock onto the bridge, and registers the area as a hostile environment.

Examining his options, Bristlewind realizes he has none. His first order as Captain of frigate FF24 is also his last. "Contact the Mysterion. Tell them to stand by to receive us. Knifeclaw, go down to the transporter room, and prepare for evacuation. If we can't save the ship, maybe we can at least save the crew." Bristlewind curses silently to himself over the hopeless situation as he watches the two Klingon ships move away, arcing in opposite directions. With a sigh of defeat and an angry stare at the forms of the enemy on the small view screen, he presses the shipwide P/A control, "This is acting Captain Bristlewind speaking. All claws, abandon ship. Repeat, all claws, abandon ship." As he closes the channel, he wonders how many of the crew of the ship heard the announcement, and how many no longer hear anything.

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON F5 HARRASSER]

On the Harrasser, Captain Krieze barks orders in his terse, demanding tone, pushing his crew to keep his crippled ship flying, and urging them to repair what they can. He is compelled, albeit reluctantly, to order his pilot to clear the area, and get some range on their adversaries. Despite the damage his ship has taken, Krieze's emotions pull at him to dive back in on the enemy ships to exact revenge for the pounding they have given him. But he knows his ship and crew must catch their breath first, rearm and repair, so the Harrasser may re-engage the Kzinti ships sitting in space waiting for them. He silently fumes at the incompetence of his superior, knowing with the complete certainty of unbridled arrogance that were he in charge instead of Kith, the Kzinti would already be destroyed and the Terran ship captured.

[BRIDGE - FEDERATION CRUISE SHIP AL RASHID]

On the Al Rashid, Captain Reeger plays nervously with his bushy blonde mustache. What have I done? he thinks. I just fired on a Klingon who offered assistance. Am I crazy? I'm helping the Kzinti, who I have no more reason to trust than the damned Klingons. He rubs his forehead, trying to wipe away the headache growing quickly in his temples. He succeeds only in wiping away the sweat from his brow.

"Captain, I need access to the complete passenger and crew rosters in order to determine if we have any personnel with any training or abilities that might be useful in repelling a boarding action."

Captain Reeger regards the petite and attractive raven-haired woman demanding these things. "Shannon can get that information for you, Ms. Johnson. But right now, I'm just a bit busy."

"I understand, sir. If it's any consolation, sir. I think you did the right thing, adding our phasers to the Kzins and breaking the tractor link with our reserve power. We saved that ship from almost certain destruction," the young security trainee reassures the Captain. But her next words do nothing to quell the knot tightening in Reeger's belly. "The other Kzinti ship might have chosen to retreat if we hadn't. And the Klingons will be coming for us soon, unless the pussycats stop them."

"Captain, we've restored a bit more power from the left warp engine," the intercom squawks, interrupting his conversation.

"The warp controls?" Reeger responds to the voice on his intercom hopefully. He nods at the security cadet as she salutes and moves to computer console Shannon O'Brien is already accessing.

"It'll be awhile, sir. Anywhere from ten to thirty minutes."

"Understood. Recharge all phasers. And get those engines up and running. We need some mobility, and soon!" Reeger orders even as he shakes his head over his present situation. Another hour and we could have been moving toward home. If not for the Kzinti, though, we'd probably already be in Klingon space. Where's the Excalibur when you need it? he thinks, praying for the arrival of the Federation CC as the Klingon ships circle and prepare for another pass.

***

[EMERGENCY BRIDGE - KZINTI FRIGATE FF24]

Bristlewind can only watch on the tiny viewscreen as the battle continues. The next few minutes are frantic ones as the Malicious circles in again alone, while the Harrasser begins patching her wounds. The Malicious hurts the Mysterion on the second pass, but receives more than it bargains for when the Terran liner adds its full phaser complement into the battle. The Malicious circles away from the second pass still functional, but injured.

Bristlewind evaluates the condition of his ship, or what is left of it, knowing his ship no longer has the claws or fangs to continue fighting. He also knows this fact is the only reason the Klingons did not destroy FF24 on their second pass. He works feverishly, scanning the remnants of the computer banks to ensure no important data can fall into the hands of the enemy, should some small portion of the ship survive the battle. Satisfied that FF24's secrets are safe, he leaves the Secondary bridge and makes his way to the transporter room to oversee the evacuation.

Crew members gather at the transporter, awaiting their turn to leave the doomed ship. Though the transporter is no longer functional, it makes Mysterion's job much easier by positioning everyone in the one spot on the ship designed especially to make transport easiest. Bristlewind remains cool and distant, giving his orders clearly and calmly, until the Chief Engineer barges through the crowd to confront him. Relinquishing the comm-link with Mysterion to a lieutenant, Bristlewind listens to the Chief's tirade.

"You can't be serious! I can still save her. She's a strong vessel. Just give me a few minutes and I'll give you enough to fight back with. But don't . . "

Bristlewind interrupts the Chief abruptly, "Enough! The order is given. The longer our engines are still active, the longer we pose a threat to our sister ship. Our explosion can hurt them, and the only plausible reason we weren't destroyed on their second pass was because the D6 managed to move us just far enough away where our detonation would not hurt the Mysterion. If the Klingons grow a brain they can grab us and move us back before blowing us up. And you and I both know that a hard sneeze could blow this ship. Drop the warp drive engines! Now!!"

The Chief pauses and presses a button on his wrist communicator. A moment later the deck of the ship rocks gently as the warp drive is pushed away from the core by small explosive charges. The Chief says softly, "She's been a good ship, sir. I had to ask."

"Understood. Now, prepare to transport over to the Mysterion."

"Sir, I've got a crew working on repairing the impulse engine. Perhaps we can escape while they're circling."

"That's a million to one shot, Chief and you know it. Now go get your techs and abandon ship."

"I understand, sir. I'll go inform my repair crew."

The junior lieutenant manning the comm-link interrupts Bristlewind, "Sir, the shuttle from the Mysterion has landed and is ready to depart, but she reports that debris in the shuttle bay will make exiting the ship a bit risky. You're a level six shuttle pilot aren't you?"

"Yes," Bristlewind responds, suddenly confronted with a small problem in getting everyone off his ship before himself.

The Chief offers a solution. "Captain, go ahead and pilot the shuttle. Except for the lieutenant and my repair crew, I believe everyone else is off already. I'll take care of everyone left on board."

Bristlewind knows the Chief has served on board the small ship well for some time. Reluctantly he agrees.

He and the lieutenant exit the transporter room, leaving the engineer alone. When the door closes, the Chief mumbles, "Now I can work on saving you, you tired old lady." He hurries down to what is left of engineering and begins barking orders with a new fervor.

***

When the tiny Kzinti ship drops her warp drive, the Klingons choose to ignore the frigate, knowing it lacks the power to arm the pair of operational phasers that remain, and that she no longer has the capacity to escape. Kith and Krieze withdraw for a few moments to give the Kzinti CL a chance to flee, while rearming their weapons. When the Mysterion stays put, they resume their assault on the CL, convinced they will win.

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

The bridge of the Mysterion is nearly silent, with only the pings and whirs of the standard equipment operating. The entire bridge watches as the Harrasser and Malicious regroup, the Malicious doing a slow left hand turn, allowing the Harrasser an opportunity to catch its larger comrade.

"Klingons maneuvering to parallel, range is 160,000." Firemane announces.

"Their status?" Darkstar asks.

"The D6 has regained some power since we hit it. The F5 is regaining power much slower," Firemane answers.

"Weapons?"

"Each has lost some primary and secondary weapon systems, though the F5 is in much worse shape overall."

"With the liner's phasers, we are roughly even in damage potential. We should be able to hurt the D6 badly on his next pass. Then the smaller one may leave," Swishtail hypothesizes.

"Sir, they probably have figured out our phaser-III scanners are enhanced. They may try to avoid 30,000 on the next pass and use their type two phasers for drone defense only," Firemane says.

"Suggestions?" the Captain asks.

"Their energy plots have been very consistent so far. The D6 with current power and two overloads can only do warp two point one with full electronics. Any slower and they have to worry about our drones. We should be able to predict when they will reach 40,000km. If we do, we can accelerate and get behind them when they turn away. With their disruptors out of arc, we can chew through the weak rear shields and then really hit them when our weapons cycle again."

"Interesting plan, but risky," Darkstar says thoughtfully. "It would be helpful if we could coordinate this plan with the Terrans. Have we managed to establish any secure communications yet?"

"No, sir," the Comm-officer responds, his tail drooping.

"Sir, I have an idea that will allow us to contact the Al Rashid on a coded frequency," Swishtail offers.

"How?" Darkstar asks urgently.

"The last shuttle from FF24 is about to dock. If we divert it to the Federation vessel, we'll have some of our personnel on board. We'll also have the comm-system from the shuttle, which can be patched into their system."

"Excellent suggestion. Do we know who's on board that shuttle?"

"Whiskerthin was killed in the initial attack, sir. I believe command was assumed by a Lieutenant Bristlewind."

"Bristlewind is fluent in Federation Standard, sir," Firemane adds.

"Excellent. Instruct him to dock with the Terran ship. I want him to act as strategic liaison."

"Yes, sir," the Comm-officer answers and relays the message.

***

[KZINTI SHUTTLE]

"Understood," Bristlewind sighs as he flips a switch breaking communications with the Mysterion.

"What did they say?" asks the inquisitive crewman beside him.

Bristlewind regards the flaxen cat, reflecting that though they are nearly the same age, Bristlewind is now Captain of the ship he just left behind. "We're going to go meet the Terrans."

"We're what?!"

"I'm only following orders," Bristlewind frowns. I wonder if Firemane had anything to do with . . . naaaaaa.

"Sir, how are we supposed to dock with them?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. See if you can contact their Captain. Maybe they'll open a hatch or something."

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

On the Malicious, Kith is livid. "They've been ripping us to shreds with their phasers. They did twice the damage they should have at that range. Curse that ship and its Captain. He's a devil and a snake. It is my turn for surprise now, though. Krieze! Bring the Harrasser around to 90,000 kilometers and prepare for another pass. We're going in again, but this time we're going to hit the liner -- knock its deflector down, and board it, but we'll only close to 40,000km.

"Understood. Krieze out."

While the Klingons are positioning, they fire at the Mysterion from long range to mask their intentions, but fail to hit the CL. A single disruptor is fired from the CL as a warning to stay away, but this also misses, so the Klingons ready themselves and attack once more.

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

"Coming in just a bit slower then predicted," Firemane puzzles.

"How much?"

Running his claws quickly across his instruments, Firemane gives his answer, though a puzzled expression remains on his face. "Just a bit. I calculate overloads are still possible, but there's some additional power he's channeling somewhere I cannot detect."

"Tractors?" the Captain asks rhetorically.

"For drone defense," Swishtail adds.

"Klingons at 60,000 kilometers," the weapons officer interrupts.

"Could be," Firemane answers. "But we cannot tell at this range."

"Fifty-thousand . . . "

"Plotted acceleration commencing," the navigator announces.

"Damn, it's too soon," Darkstar grimaces. "Prepare to fire single overload and all bearing phasers on my command."

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

"The Kzinti is accelerating!" the Klingon navigator shouts.

"Blast!" Kith roars. "Fire full alpha at Fed tug, then turn off."

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

"Klingon ships at 40,000km," Swishtail announces.

"They're firing," Firemane and the weapons officer say in unison.

"Fire!" Darkstar orders.

Darkstar grabs the armrests on his chair and is surprised when the expected jolt doesn't come.

"D6 number six shield reduced by fifty percent," Firemane reports.

"They couldn't have possibly missed us completely at this range," Darkstar marvels. "What happened?"

"They were targeting the Fed tug. They took its number six shield down to three percent," Firemane answers.

"Klingons turning away," the navigator interrupts.

"Tug firing on the D6's number five shield," Firemane says matter-of-factly. "Shield strength down sixty percent."

Darkstar curses as he pounds his armrest, "Why didn't they fire with us?"

"Sorry, sir," the Comm-officer apologizes. "The shuttle was aboard, but the relay to their bridge was activated just after your fire order. We do have direct secure channel to Fed bridge now, though."

"We're not getting closer than 40,000," Darkstar grumbles under his breath.

"Sir," Swishtail speaks. "If we get too far away from . . . "

"I know," Darkstar answers grimly. "Comm -- send to Terran ship, attach tractor to us, and we will begin towing you home. If you do not, you're on your own. Close the channel. Drop all ECM and stand by for deceleration when they grab us."

A moment later Darkstar purrs as the ship shudders and groans at the added mass she now pulls.

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON F5 HARRASSER]

On the Harrasser, Krieze looks with disgust at the tactical. Kith has no guts, he thinks, we should have finished them already.

"Hail the Malicious."

"Kith, here. What do you want!?"

"If I might make a suggestion . . . "

"I'm in charge here, Krieze!"

Krieze's eyes burn, but his answer is without any trace of emotion. "Yes, I know. It's a simple variation on your original attack plan. If the Harrasser comes in behind the tug and breaks the tractor link, the CL will fly away from the liner, giving you ample time to knock down their screen and board the Terran ship. Without the Kzinti's weapons helping, the Terran will be helpless. The Kzinti have lost one ship already. Once they are moving, if we choose to ignore them, they may go ahead and leave."

"How do expect to get behind them?"

"The CL obviously was planning on taking our shot then getting behind us to attack our weaker rear shields. I expect if we turn opposite directions, they will follow you, hoping to take advantage of your already weakened number five shield. Since I have the most maneuverable ship, I should not have trouble doubling back and approaching from the rear. With half of my weapons gone, they will not consider me much of a threat."

"Of course not," Kith sneers. "And, of course, you get to avoid having to taste their disruptors."

"True," Krieze concedes. "But I will have to get close enough that their enhanced phasers alone will be problematic."

"It is worth a shot, but do you have enough power to disrupt the liner's tractor?"

"We will be successful."

"You had better," Captain Kith says coldly.

The pair of Klingons separate, the D6 moving to the right, while the F5 swings around to the left. The CL does its best to stay behind the D6, but the mass of the Tug slows it down too much. In little time, both Klingons ships get behind the liner and begin to close. The CL and Tug trade off who maintains the tractor link, giving them firing opportunities as the Klingons get range and then double back, though Darkstar takes his drone racks off line to reload them. Despite their best efforts, the Tug's phasers and the CL's disruptors are not enough to get through the rear shielding before the Klingons get behind them and begin closing.

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

While Captain Reeger weighs his options nervously on the Al Rashid, Darkstar sits on the bridge of Mysterion patiently waiting for the Klingons to close in, wishing the smaller Klingon vessel would stop leading the charge into battle.

Darkstar wonders if he should decel and TAC or HET in order to bring the Mysterion's weapons into arc. He ponders the implications as the weapons' officer ticks off the range to the F5.

"Sixty-five thousand . . . fifty-five . . . "

"Target the D6. He is more dangerous. Ignore the F5."

"F5 at thirty-five thousand. D6 now at 60,000."

"Prepare to . . . " Darkstar's command is interrupted as the F5 reaches 10,000km to the Al Rashid. Instead of firing, though, the ship reaches out with a tractor beam. The beam fights with the tractor the Mysterion is generating, the fields intermixing and creating strange colors of luminescence around the Tug.

"Don't fight it," Darkstar orders, knowing that for the F5 to attempt such a bold maneuver it must have planned well, planning on beating his CL's small contingent of reserve power, plus some.

The link is broken, though the F5 curiously does not maintain its grasp of the Federation ship.

Before the F5 can fire, though, the Al Rashid launches a wild weasel, its electronic jamming creating severe problems for the Klingon targeting computers.

With the great mass of the Federation ship gone, the Mysterion leaps away from the Tug. Darkstar's ears twitch at this unexpected development. Had the Harrasser held on for just a moment longer, she could have easily cut through the Tug's rear shielding. With the ECM generated by the shuttle along with that generated by the ship itself, the F5 barely dents the rear shields with its phasers. Having to divert phasers to destroy the weasel doesn't help.

The F5 slides past the Tug, trailing the CL at a discreet distance. Darkstar can only watch as the D6 closes on the Tug, though he orders some rear phasers fired at the F5 just for spite.

"The F5 breaks our link, but allows the Tug to launch a weasel. These Klingons are definitely teaching us a thing or two about hot to not work together as a team," Darkstar notes sarcastically.

The purrs of laughter his remark elicits ring well in the Captain's ears, but he knows he cannot leave the Terran now. There are Kzinti on the ship and knowing that he was the one who ordered those warriors over to the Al Rashid prevents him from taking a clearly present opportunity to retreat.

"Launch drones at the Malicious. Turn this thing around. We're not through here yet," he orders, bringing everyone's mind back to the matters at hand. "Arm all weapons. Prepare to re-engage."

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

Both Klingon Captains cheer when the Mysterion leaps away, but both curse when the Kzinti vessel launches drones and the weasel emerges from the Al Rashid. The Malicious closes to 10,000km as the ECM effects of the weasel abate. But before he can fire to take down the rear shield of the Tug, a second weasel appears.

"Emergency stop!" Captain Kith barks angrily. "Defensive phasers, take out that weasel."

The Malicious slows, coming to a complete stop only 1,000 meters directly behind the Al Rashid, while the Harrasser continues moving, circling in the opposite direction from the Kzinti CL.

"Kzinti drones incoming," the science officer notes as the small projectiles close on the now motionless D6.

"Use tractors, labs and phasers as needed to take out those drones," Kith spits at his weapons officer. Our disruptors are guaranteed to take the Fed's shield down once the blasted weasel fades. Then we shall board it and take its weapons out of this fight. All guards report for boarding duty," he finishes with a snarl.

Kith then smiles at his fortune. With the CL now separated from the liner and the Malicious parked on top of it, he is assured of victory. As he waits for the explosion period of the weasel to end, Kith licks his lips in anticipation.

***

[BRIDGE - FEDERATION CRUISE SHIP AL RASHID]

On the Al Rashid, Captain Reeger hangs his head as his hands both sweep back through his thinning hair.

"Engineering, we need maneuvering engines now!!!" he shouts into the intercom, as he watches the form of the Malicious displayed on the forward viewscreen, hanging ominously close behind them.

"Does anyone have any ideas?" he asks, wishing the Security trainee were here to offer her input, now regretting his decision to send her to coordinate with the Kzinti soldiers.

"I wish we could switch places," the twenty-two year old navigator mumbles.

A huge grin spreads across Reeger's face. "That's it. Use reserve impulse to accelerate in reverse. We'll back behind them, which will present our forward shields to them and allow us to center-line them with every phaser we've got!"

"Firing retro impulse thrusters," the navigator announces almost immediately.

When the Liner begins moving backwards, the Malicious cannot wait for the weasel effect to cease. The ship fires its disruptors, and the few charged phasers remaining after taking out the Kzin drone swarm. Despite the ECM effect, the D6 manages to breach the Tug's #4 shield. In the last instant before the Fed ship slips behind the Klingon vessel, the Malicious drops its forward shield and beams six boarding squads onto the Al Rashid.

Captain Reeger's desperate action saves his ship, as every phaser on the liner is suddenly bearing at point blank range on the Klingon's weak #4 shield.

Reeger does not hesitate. "Fire all phasers!"

All the might the liner can muster strikes the weak rear shield of the Malicious, slicing into the warship. The fire scores heavily on the Klingon Cruiser, damaging two of the remaining phasers, and taking a hastily repaired disruptor out of action for a second time.

Reeger can imagine the Klingons cursing for underestimating their opponent. The Malicious is less than half the ship it once was, as fires lick hungrily out the multiple holes riddling the ship, then retreat when they can find no oxygen to feed their destructive hunger.

But even crippled, the Klingon ship continues to fight, rotating slowly to first get its down rear shield away from the Terran ship, and then to bring its remaining weapons around to face the Al Rashid to blast through the liner's forward deflector.

But before the D6 can get more boarding parties onto the Tug, the Al Rashid TACs a relatively fresh shield to the Klingon Cruiser.

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

While the Malicious continues fighting the Al Rashid, Mysterion turns to come to the Terran's aid, but is unable to beat the Harrasser to the scene.

"Prepare to launch scatter-pack," Darkstar orders. "Target is the D6. Speed zero, minimum cycle time and damage to release."

"Scatterpack away," comes the reply an instant later.

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

"Kzinti CL launching a shuttle," the science officer on the Malicious informs his Captain.

"Range?"

"Sixty double kay."

Kith curses again. "Cycle time for disruptors?" he asks, knowing the answer before it comes.

"Too long, sir. If it's a scatterpack, it will definitely blossom before we can kill it."

"T-bombs?"

"We only have dummy mines left, sir."

Kith pounds his armrest in frustration. "Prepare to use reserve power to TAC away from the drones and accelerate on my command."

"Sir, we have no batteries to draw from."

Kith draws blood from his own hand as he clenches his fist so tightly his long, jagged nails pierce the skin.

"We have time on our side. Maximum acceleration as soon as we re-balance our energy. We should still be able to outrun the drones." But we need to get the rest of our boarding parties onto that Tug! He silently fumes, having run out of ideas on how to accomplish this.

"Harrasser closing to 10,000 kilometers," the S.O. notes softly. "Firing phasers at the Tug," he says with more enthusiasm. "He's breached their #2 shield. He's attached a tractor to the Tug. He's dropping a shield and beaming a boarding party onto the ship!" the Science Officer continues getting increasingly excited.

Kith nods almost imperceptibly at the F5's actions. He winces when the Fed ship fires a pair of phasers through the down shield. But when the F5 turns, dragging the Federation ship with it, Kith suddenly sees Krieze's plan.

"Drop shield, activate transporters!" he fairly screams, only realizing at the last instant that Krieze has dragged the Tug in such a way to present one of its down shields to the D6. The instant the last of the Klingon boarding parties is onto the Tug, the Harrasser releases the tractor and speeds away from the scene.

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

On the Mysterion, Darkstar watches helplessly as the Klingon boarding parties stream onto the Tug.

"Those rear phasers are going to shred that Tug, if he fires now," Firemane notes.

"Launch drones. All racks. Target the D6," Darkstar orders.

They all wait anxiously, wondering whether the D6 will take its shot through the Tug's down shield. The D6 then rotates, turning away from the CL and firing its phasers at the Kzinti drones.

Everyone on the bridge of the Mysterion breathes a sigh of relief, as do those on board the bridge of the Al Rashid.

***

[RECREATION DECK - FEDERATION CRUISE SHIP AL RASHID]

Inside the Terran liner, Bristlewind hopes the troops he ordered to assist in defending the Terran engineering section assert themselves well in the coming battle. Even as he questions the wisdom of leaving his troops in order to reach the Cruise Liner's bridge, he marvels at the ingenuity of his Terran counterpart as she drains a large pool of water, and then conceals it with a holographic image of a standard deck. They wait concealed for the Klingon commandos, and are rewarded when the first squad charges across the pit, at least one killed and most injured by the ten meter fall into the empty pool. Virginia immediately activates the restraining field over the pool -- normally used to prevent exactly the kind of accident she has just arranged. She then turns the high-pressure hoses on to refill the pool, while retuning the holo-display to show a tranquil, filled pool.

"The restraining field may not hold them for long -- but they could be out in a second if any other Klingons happen to see them down there," she explains to Kzinti Commander beside her. "And with a little luck, they might drown before they can deactivate the field."

"Thhere arrrrre morrrre coming," Bristlewind says, nodding toward the passageway on the far end of the hydro-recreation area.

Virginia takes a quick glance at her companions ears. "I'm glad I don't have to try and sneak up on you. We'll take one shot at them from here, then make our way to the bridge. I suspect they'll need our help there soon."

The scout for the Klingon squad pauses at the archway leading toward the pool. He curses at the wide, open area before him. Perfect place for an ambush, he thinks. Signaling for the others behind him to wait, he rushes to his left, toward the nearest potted palm, diving and rolling the last ten meters. He comes up behind the plant, quickly scanning the area from right to left, his weapon held before him.

The most junior of the soldiers pokes his head in the room, waiting for the all-clear just as the scout's eyes are drawn to some movement on the opposite side of the pool. For a moment he thinks it is simply a palm frond moving in the breeze -- then his eyes lock on those of a large, gray Kzinti. Had it been a human he saw, he probably would not have hesitated, and might have gotten a shot off. But during that one instant of surprise, he is caught by the full blast from Bristlewind's energy weapon. Though the beam is designed to only render its target unconscious, the force of the blast lifts the scout up and slams his head into wall behind him, cracking the skull.

In the same instant, Virginia Johnson fires at the impatient Klingon soldier -- hitting him square in his right ear. His comatose body comes to rest in front of the archway, making what Virginia believes is a perfect welcome mat for his comrades behind him. But when she sees the blood oozing from his ear, she shudders, and has to swallow hard to force the bile in her throat back down. From as far back as she can remember, she has been taught that the Klingons are cruel, sadistic predators, whose sole wish in life is the extinction of all Terrans and ultimate conquest of the galaxy. She has often fantasized about killing Klingons -- but the grim reality of taking a life -- no matter whose life that might be -- is nothing like she imagined.

Only when she feels a tug at her sleeve does she realize she's been daydreaming. The gray Kzinti notes the moisture at the corners of her eyes, and does not know what to think of this tiny, human, female soldier. A loud pop draws the attention of both of them.

"Damn! They broke the containment field," the Security trainee curses. As the sound of rushing water reaches her.

At this instant a grenade comes flying through the archway, thrown blindly by some unseen Klingon. Bristlewind and Virginia both know instantly the grenade will land right in the midst of the group of water-logged troopers desperately trying to extricate themselves from the pool.

"This way," Virginia commands, turning away from the pool and dashing down the corridor, her alien companion right on her heels.

The sound of the explosion is deafening as the pair rush down the narrow corridor. They see the flash on the walls around them, feel the heat on their backs, and smell the stench of burning flesh before they round the next corner. Virginia waves for Bristlewind to wait on the opposite side of the t-intersection they have reached. The corridor they have just traversed is long and straight, and affords no cover.

She realizes they are very near the bridge's forward entrance, and ponders her options. Bristlewind fires down the hallway when a Klingon peeks out to examine the passageway. The solider manages to pull his head back without getting hit, and seconds later disruptor fire answers.

Virginia and the Kzinti take turns firing their phasers around the corner and then quickly duck behind cover. Their fire only brings more return fire from the Klingons at the far end of the corridor.

"Zugzwang!" the petite, raven-haired female exclaims.

"I am not ffamiliarrr withh thhhat ffrrraze."

"It's a chess term. It means any move we make only hurts our position," the woman explains.

"Oh, it iss a currrssse thhen."

"Sort of," the young, security trainee responds, looking more closely at the huge gray Kzinti. Virginia Johnson suppresses the urge to stroke the fur of the cat who, when standing, towers over her by nearly a meter.

"Any ideas?" she asks.

"SSurrrprrrisse. They know our possition and weaponrrry. We need to thhrrrow ssomethhing unexpected at thhem," Bristlewind purrs.

Virginia Johnson bares her teeth. Bristlewind's fur starts to rise before he recalls that for humans this is not a threatening display.

Scanning the hallway behind her, she notes the door marked Ancient Games Room. She shakes her head at the anachronistic bent to this space vessel. "Your name was Bristle-what?" she asks her furry companion.

"Brisstlewind is the clossesst trrransslation," the Kzinti responds, firing blindly down the corridor.

"Well, Bristlewind, I think I've got just the thing to throw at them."

Virginia fires once more down the hallway and then leads the Kzinti away.

***

[BRIDGE - KLINGON D6 MALICIOUS]

While the battle rages on inside the Al Rashid, Krieze 'confers' with Kith.

"Idiot! Come back here! We need your troops!" Kith thunders at the image of his comrade on the viewscreen.

Krieze has had enough, and glares fiercely at Kith, though his answer is coldly even. "Any further effort on our part is pointless. My ship is practically scrap. We have no transporters left, and I placed most of my troops on board at the same time I moved the tug to allow your reserve troops to board. Alone, the Harrasser does not have the weapons to kill a crippled gnat, much less a Kzinti warship. Our repair capacity is spent. I will keep my ship in the area and will continue firing from range, but until the combat on that Tug is decided, there is no point in closing again, since the Federation phasers can easily carve what is left of my ship to pieces."

"You're a coward, Krieze."

Krieze pauses at the insult. He knows that Kith is only trying to set him up as the scapegoat should the Liner actually escape. Holding back the remarks he wishes to make, Krieze responds with a growl in his words, "If you prefer, I can leave you here for the Terran rescue ships sure to be on their way, my Lord."

"It will be hours before any rescue ships arrive, Krieze," Kith spits contemptuously.

"Perhaps. But they have been patrolling our border vigilantly ever since the incident at Rita's Planet. We both know the Excalibur was patrolling this section of the border earlier this week. They could have picked up the liner's distress call just as we did. The fact the Kzinti heard the call and came would indicate our Comm specialist's efforts were not as miraculous as he may have indicated. I will stay and continue sniping at the CL, or I will withdraw now if you wish," Krieze finishes smugly.

Kith realizes Krieze could be right, and does not relish the thought of meeting a Federation warship alone in the condition the Malicious is in. "It is convenient for you to 'protect' me when it means you face no risk yourself, Krieze."

On the Harrasser's forward viewer Kith's face is replaced by the form of the Mysterion, parked beside the Al Rashid. Krieze can only watch as the Kzinti CL returns to its original posture of sitting and spinning. Krieze wonders just as Kith does, how the battle within the Terran ship is going.

***

[RECREATION DECK - FEDERATION CRUISE SHIP AL RASHID]

"Where are they?" the Klingon team leader asks his subordinate, as if the other has not been with him the entire battle.

"They fire and retreat. The bridge must be near."

"I don't like it. That was a good defensible position. They should not have moved unless . . . "

A loud clang of metal on metal comes from down the hallway.

"Come quickly."

A quartet of Klingons charge down the corridor, their disruptors raised and ready. When they are halfway down the corridor a small pop sounds above them, and a thick white cloud of smoke rushes out of an overhead vent, obscuring their vision. The environment belts they wear prevent the gas from having any other effect.

One of the Klingons is about to take a shot at the vent when a sound like rolling thunder approaches the group from the front. The leader barks a command to his group to slow their pace. The leader then steps on a small hard sphere, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards into the next soldier.

As the Klingons halt to assist their leader, a clatter of metal on the deck behind them causes all four Klingons to look that way, though white smoke is all they see. A soldier fires blindly at the noise. The flickering light of the disruptor beam illuminates the smoke in front of him, while the blast impacts against the corridor wall, causing a small explosion.

The unlucky Klingon who fired is suddenly caught in an energy beam from the opposite direction, and slumps to the deck unconscious. The three remaining Klingons whirl and fire, trying to see where the shot came from, but cannot see anything through the thickening white smoke. A terse command by the squad leader is given and the trio tries to line up against one wall. However, the small spheroids scattered about make maneuvering difficult. They hear a soft thud behind them, and the leader shouts, "Don't fire!" at his subordinates, believing the noise to be another diversion. His fellow Klingons obey his command. His enemies do not.

Virginia Johnson fires her phaser at the sound of the Klingon voice, and immediately dives to the opposite wall of the corridor, landing only inches from the grating she kicked out of the ceiling moments before dropping to the deck behind the Klingon commandos. At the same instant, from the far end of the corridor, Bristlewind also fires at the Klingon's voice.

The leader is caught in two beams, and the thought that he is imploding goes through his mind as he loses consciousness. The reaction of the two remaining Klingon soldiers is comically tragic. Confused and blinded, the two wheel and fire in opposite directions -- blasting each other -- ending the battle, and leaving four Klingon bodies sprawled on the deck.

Virginia waits for what seems like an eternity, then presses a button on her wrist, reactivating the vent above her. The smoke begins retreating into the opening quickly. As the smoke clears, Virginia sees the two comatose and two dead Klingons on the deck. She then notices Bristlewind also on the deck at the far end of the corridor. She tip-toes through the marbles scattered about the floor to reach the Kzinti. She is relieved to find the cat breathing.

"Are you all right?" she asks.

Bristlewind opens his eyes and looks up at the human. "Jusst . . . bruissed. Thhat lasst firrre by thhem . . . I'm . . . thhey hit thhe wall. The . . . fragmentss hit me. Did I hit thhem?"

"You mean you don't know?" Virginia asks, ripping the sleeve off her shirt and placing it on the shoulder of the injured feline, reasonably confident the wound is not mortal.

"I know I got thhe firrrsst one when you kicked out the grating. After thhat, thhey ssshot -- hit thhe wall, thhen it's all a little . . . "

"Fuzzy?"

"What?"

"Blurry. Unclear."

"Yes . . . ffuzzzy."

"O.k., Fuzzy, can you walk?" Virginia asks, examining the wound, pleased to see the bleeding is subsiding.

"Yes. I think so."

"Then come on. We've still got work to do." The meter and a half tall woman helps the over two meter tall cat to his feet, and they make their way carefully toward the bridge, watching for any stray Klingons on the way. They reach the forward entrance to the bridge, and after several tries, Ms. Johnson convinces someone on the bridge to let them in.

"Ms. Johnson! Where have you been?" Captain Reeger asks.

"We offered a Klingon goon squad a chance for a dip in the pool," Virginia replies casually. "They thought it was a blast."

"A dip in the pool?!? Have you lost your marbles?" Captain Reeger asks incredulously.

"Well, as a matter of fact . . . " she whispers, stifling a totally inappropriate laugh.

"Well, I just thank the stars you're alive!"

"Thank this Kzinti, Captain. I wouldn't be here now without his help."

"Then, uh, thank you . . . " The Captain is visibly nervous as he gazes up at the ferocious looking fangs of the Kzinti warrior.

"His name is Bristlewind, sir," Virginia explains, stifling a chuckle at the Captain's unease. A small piece of her mind realizes she is becoming giddy as she comes down off the adrenaline high she has been riding for the last few minutes.

"Thank you, Bristlewind," the Captain offers his hand to the feline.

Not having a clue as to what sort of gesture this is, the Kzinti warrior mirrors the Captain's pose, bringing his left paw out only inches from the human's right hand.

"Er, umm, welcome aboard," Reeger finally stammers waving his hand casually toward their surroundings.

Bristlewind looks around the spacious bridge of the Liner. He sees several uniformed humans performing duties similar to those of his ship, though he is most disconcerted, thanks mainly to the large oaken wheel at the head of the room. Beside it is a large white, metallic handle with several different speeds marked, and a black funnel leading into a long, plastic tube, labeled 'Engine Room'. Do they talk to their engine room with tin cans, he wonders as Virginia finds a seat for him.

While he puzzles over the bizarre accouterments of the alien bridge, he considers the probability that his ship has been destroyed by now. Bristlewind also notices a group of humans dressed differently, some holding weapons ready, all pointed directly at him.

"Captain, who are these civilians?" Virginia inquires.

"Oh, sorry Ms. Johnson. These people have volunteered to help us fight the Klingons."

"With all due respect . . . !"

A small explosion is heard from behind the turbo-lift doors.

"Captain, they're in the shaft, and have disabled the lift-driver. They should be here in about ninety seconds."

"Any other reports of Klingon activity?"

"No, sir. But there have been no further reports from any defense squads in engineering since combat began. However, we do still seem to be in control of all . . . er . . . controls."

"You're Starfleet Security, Johnson -- any ideas?"

Not bothering to correct the Captain by telling him she's only a trainee, she replies, "We can use the grav-compensators to drop them down the shaft."

"It won't work," Bristlewind announces.

"Why?" Captain Reeger and Virginia respond in unison.

"They've had grrav-compenssatorzz in their environment beltsss ssince we ussed that trrrick on them two yearsss ago. They adjussst automatically to any change in G-forcesss."

"Great!" Reeger sarcastically exclaims, "Does anyone else have some good news for me?"

"Captain, we've just picked up a ship dropping out of warp space, approaching from ahead -- bearing oh three one mark one."

"Identify."

"Sir, it's the Excalibur!"

***

[BRIDGE - KZINTI CL MYSTERION]

"Captain," Firemane announces cheerfully, "Both Klingon ships are accelerating and moving away."

"They've obviously had enough. Prepare troops to shuttle over and assist in any mop-up activity," Darkstar purrs, thanking The Fates once again for being kind.

"Sir, I don't think it's us that scared them away," Firemane adds.

"If not us, then who?"

"Them sir," he says, pointing at the large Terran war ship on the forward viewer.

The ship is large and heavily armed, dwarfing the Mysterion by a third.

The communications officer sputters, "Cap . . . Captain. They say, surrender or be destroyed."

"Tell them we're on their side, Ensign," Darkstar blurts.

"I did, sir. They don't believe me."

***

[EPILOGUE]

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