“In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity”

Sun-Tzu – “The Art of War” (514 BC)

“It’s the damnedest thing.” Chief Manningly commented as he interpreted the scan data being returned from the sensors of the Runabout “Telfair”. ” Configuration and comms – signature conform to that of a Nav – Bouy, but it’s definitely transmitting its signal into the anomaly and not out into Realspace to warn prospective vessels away from the danger.” The veteran Starfleet NCO pondered aloud as the Runabout Skirted the Aperture of the Underspace – anomaly that he and Lieutenant Hayes had been dispatched to monitor for intrusion, in Grid Ceta – 12.

“And it’s definitely Cardassian?” Rumbled Security Chief Hayes as he maintained an elliptical – orbit around the device, whilst still keeping a respectful distance from the edge of the immense gravitational – shear that the wound in space/time was generating, as almost impossible energies kept the rift open.

“As Cardassian as Yamok Sauce.” Talbot smiled and keyed the comm – channel, “Listen to what it’s broadcasting on open frequency.”

The small cabin of the “Telfair” was suddenly filled with the guttural inflection of Cardassian – which the Universal Translator quickly deciphered for their human – ears.

“…. will result in punitive action.” The recording ended, then cycled again. “This object is a scientific apparatus and sovereign property of the Cardassian High Command – deployed for the peaceful purposes of gathering scientific data. Any attempt to interfere or destroy this apparatus will be considered a hostile act on the inviolable property of a sovereign nation and will result in punitive action.”

Myron Hayes snorted with derision.

“Jus’ like a Cardassian to take all – day saying something, instead of jus‘ be saying ‘Ya’ll Keep – Out’!”

“They are a trifle verbose and melodramatic at a pinch really, aren’t they?” Chief Manningly smiled. “Do you buy the line about ‘peaceful purposes of gathering scientific data’?” He prompted with a skeptical – raised eyebrow.

Lieutenant Hayes shook his powerful, bald – cranium slowly and commented.

“If’n a Cardassian sells you a shoe – best look inside for the Scorpion ‘fore ya’ll put it on. “The big New – Orleans native warned. “That Nav-Bouy ain’t gathering no Scientific data – it’s sending a signal into Underspace – any idea what sauce they are selling?”

Chief Manningly considered the data – packet that they sensor pallets had detected. An impenetrable cipher confounded all attempts that he made to uncover the import of the message the Cardassians’ were broadcasting into Underspace.

“No – it’s infuriatingly well – encrypted. They used to pull this type of trick during the Dominion War – to pass along orders to sleeper agents. No way of telling what the message could be.” The Chief frowned in frustration. “But pound to a penny, you can bet they are up to no good.”

“Then Mebbeh this Po-Boy’ll be able to give us some answers.” Myron nodded as the tactical sensors detected a vessel dropping out of Warp.

The signature energy emission of a Starship dropping out of warp visually announced itself and flashed on the Starboard quarter of the Runabout and began to make a direct approach to the aperture.

“It’s a civilian – vessel.” Chief Manningly reported as the scan gained cohesion. “Configuration looks familiar, she’s running at full impulse towards the anomaly – someone’s in a hurry to die.” The Chief nodded his silver – grey locks. “Getting a Registry ID from the computer…. aha….. oh! You’re going to LOVE this, Lieutenant?”

“Thrill me.” Myron said flatly.

“It appears to be our old friend, the ‘SS Devore’.”

Lieutenant Hayes interrogated the data to see for himself. Sure enough, the emissions profile and schematic signature of the incoming vessel conformed exactly to that of the Freighter that the USS Savannah had discovered at the centre of the True Way’s subterfuge to frame the New Marquis for war – crimes, right before Gul Yomat Ghallir himself had attacked the ship with the Galor – Class Cruiser “Verran” and forced Captain Hyland to flee & seek tenuous refuge in the nightmarish realm of Underspace.

“Captain N’vok.” An ominous smile split Myron Haye’s powerful features as he recalled the duplicitous Ferengi that commanded the SS Devore. “Chief, I believe in God & Jesus, I even believe that the Saints may one day win the Superbowl again (tho’ I ain’t holding my breath there) but one thing I do not believe in, in this ever-loving life is ‘coincidence’!!”

Chief Hayes smiled and began to buckle himself in.

“I take it that we will be paying Captain N’vok a social visit then?” The Englishman commented, with dry amusement.

“Oh yes, indeed we are.” Lieutenant Hayes nodded as he brought the Runabout around and plotted an intercept course with the SS Devore. “I, fo’one, am just dying to see what that lil’ Bilge – rat done be hauling’ in that hold o’ his!”

“Well, Tally – Ho to that!” Chief Manningly grinned and opened up a hail.

“Incoming vessel, this is the Starfleet Runabout “Telfair.” You have entered restricted space. You are hereby ordered to halt your vessel and prepared to be boarded and submit to a customs – inspection, under the auspices of the Treaty of Bajor. Any failure to comply with these directives will be considered a hostile action and will ‘result in punitive action.’ “

“I see what ya’ll did there – nice.” Myron nodded as he steadily decreased the distance between the two vessels, charged with determination & with a singular purpose.

“Laissez les bon temps rouler!”

Location: Terminus Station Spacedock / USS Savannah / Conference Room / Deck 1

Stardate: 2401.7.17 / 06:37hrs (Shipboard Time)

The repairs seem to be proceeding well, Chief Carver?” Lieutenant T’Vran studied the readout on the PADD that Cass had given her.

It seemed strange to the young woman’s ears to be addressed as the Chief Engineer of the USS Savannah.

 Even if the honorific “Acting” preceded the title, Cass Carver wasn’t quite sure that she ‘felt’ like a Chief Engineer – having only just farewelled her friend and mentor, Chief Herrera, onto a shuttle – bound for Starbase 72 – to commence his nanomedical treatment, in an attempt to repair the cellular damage that he had suffered in during their recent ordeal in Underspace.

But ‘Acting’ Chief Engineer she was, so the diminutive blonde woman set her mind to the task and responded.

“That’s affirmative, Ma’am” Cass nodded and brought up a holo of the New – Orleans class frigate, to better illustrate the progress of the repair works that were currently underway. Areas of work that had been completed were signified in green, with areas with works currently underway emblazoned in red and those still waiting for works to commence were depicted in a dull – grey color.

“Terminus Spacedock has prioritized the Savannah in the repair schedule, partly because – compared to some of the other vessels awaiting repair – we can be turned around relatively quickly, so we Triage – well.” The young Chief – Engineer used her hand to manipulate the holo – to zoom in on the ship’s keel and indicated the new MMP there.

“That and the fact that we have a new Multi – Mission Pod that restores our long – range scan capabilities to full strength. With Underspace apertures opened up all along the former DMZ – you don’t have to graduate the Daystrom to work out that Starfleet needs our eyes and ears out there on the ‘Thin-Red-Line’ and want to get us underway ASAP, Lieutenant?”

The Vulcan Executive Officer inclined her head in a neat nod and murmured.

“A Logical and astute hypothesis Chief. What is our current projection for optimum space worthiness and departure?”

Cass sucked at her teeth and ran some calculations in her head. For a Ships’ Engineer, that calculus always had to consider a number of viables – not least of all was to not overestimate or underestimate repair times and to let one’s Commander know exactly how much leeway could be shaved off the margin. How else were ‘miracles’ seemingly made?

“Well, the MMP is ported and integrated with its mates.”” Cass reported. “The new primary Deuterium Storage Tank has been re-installed on Deck 13 and the processing assembly will be ready for load testing in the next three hours. The fill – ports have been replaced and are ready to go. We are currently running level 3 diagnostics on the new sections of hull and stress – parameters are currently within accepted norms – so I project that process will be completed by the end of the next Alpha Shift rotation.”

“The Security Diagnostics, that Chief Hayes ordered for the Computer Core is taking longer than expected – but the Chief wants to make sure there is no trace of intrusion programs left in the matrix by the New Marquis’ SSH saboteur – which makes sense – so that’s going to take more time than usual as we run those protocols.”

“Can the purge be completed once we are underway again?” T’Vran prompted.

“Can do, I suppose – Chief Hayes won’t be happy, but I could make that happen.” Cassandra nodded thoughtfully.

“Then, make it so Chief, every second we delay our shipmates are out there without our support. I will deal with Chief Hayes, if he has any objections.” The XO ordered perfunctorily.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Location: Terminus Station Spacedock / USS Savannah / Captain’s Ready Room / Deck 1

Stardate: 2401.7.17 / 07:01hrs (Shipboard Time)

“So, I am still Captain of this Ship, or should I expect to be cooling my heels in Commander Washington’s brig for the foreseeable future?” Samantha Hyland asked the screen, with a tinge of irony in her voice.

The face of Captain Trevenan Williams smiled back at her, from the desk terminal and the Task Force XO shook his salt & pepper head and replied.

“Believe it or not Sam, the Commodore wasn’t lying when she said that the tribunal wasn’t a ‘firing – squad’.”

Sam took a sip of her Lapsang Souchong Tea and grimaced sourly.

“Somehow, I get the feeling that a firing – squad would have been the far gentler – alternative.”

Trevenan Williams laughed shortly and nodded – parsecs away on Starbase 72.

“You’re young, give it time. When you’re an old salt like me, Sam, you’ll have enough barnacles stuck to your hull that you’ll sail through a board of enquiry with little impact to your headway. If it’s any consolation, I think Commodore Jalian quite liked your ‘pluck’’, I know I did. You took what actions you thought were necessary to bring your ship home (mostly) intact and your crew alive. Take the Win.”

“Well, I’m glad to give an honest account of my actions to Command, but I can’t help shaking the feeling that there was a wider sub-context underpinning the proceedings?” Sam prompted her superior.

Captain Williams puffed out his cheeks and nodded tentatively.

“You’re learning already. What gave it away?” he smiled innocuously.

“Probably the presence of the Starfleet Intelligence Rottweiler, I’d have to say.” Samantha commented drolly.

“Well, the surrender of Gul Ghallir is an event of some import and the ramifications of your actions have caused considerable shock – waves, speaking diplomatically Sam.”” The TFXO looked serious now.

“How so?”” Samantha worried. “I thought that Yomat Ghallir was safely locked up in a penitentiary holding – facility by the Obsidian Order? What possible harm can he do now?”

Trevenan sighed and sat back in his chair, as the Starfleet Veteran went on to explain.

“I wish it was that simple, Sam, I really do – but the fact of the matter is that the Detapa – Council’s own political position within the Cardassian Union is as tenuous as it has ever been in recent history. Their fragile – alliance with the Federation is viewed as near – treasonous by hardliners of the Old Regime and the High Command. That the council has given free rein to the Obsidian Order to root out dissent has not improved that position.”

“Add to that the, always incendiary, subject of Cardassian – sovereignty over former Cardassian colonies annexed by the Treaty of Bajor and the dissolution of the Demilitarized Zone – especially when the True Way keep the issue (quite literally) burning at the forefront of the Cardassian people’s minds and you have a recipe for a groundswell of popular support for people like Gul Yomat Ghallir – at least in the minds of the populous.”

“Are you saying they might set him free? After all that he has done?” Sam asked, incredulous.

Captain Williams shook his head.

“The Detapa Council can’t afford to do that – to do so would inflame popular opinion from their liberal – base and likely be seen as a betrayal by the Obsidian Order.”

“So, you’re saying that Gul Ghallir holds power as what? A Martyr?” Sam felt sick to her stomach.

“Yes, that and there was already a strong undercurrent of sympathy and even support from some quarters in the High Command, those who would like nothing more to see a return to the aggressive policies of territorial expansion that the Union enjoyed before the advent of the Dominion War. The Cardassian psyche does not conform well to being the victim of defeat and capitulation.”

Sam rubbed her eyes tiredly.

“But surely, he can’t actually achieve much material damage from inside his cell? Isn’t access to him tightly controlled?”

“Something tells me that Gul Ghallir can do just as much damage from within that cell as without – otherwise he wouldn’t have surrendered himself so meekly.” The TFXO conceded regretfully.

“There are always means and ways – you said it yourself at the Board of Enquiry – Yomat Ghallir is a man for which ‘incomprehensible and oblique are the realms where he seems most comfortable’ and the advent of the Labyrinth has further destabilized what tenuous grip that the Detapa Council holds upon its territory and borders. They’re not alone in joining the potential gold – rush that’s happening out there as the Major Powers vie for a piece of the action – but the Cardassian Union is not the strongest contenders in-play by some margin, and in my experience that makes them the most unpredictable.”

Sam was silent for a short while as she took all of this in and wondered (not for the first or last time) if she had not made a terrible mistake in following the rule of Law and permitting Gul Yomat Ghallir to live – turning him over to his own people for what she had presumed would be summary justice for his terrible crimes?

“Well Captain, you’re not wrong there.” Sam reported “We’ve deployed our Runabouts to bolster the patrols of known Underspace – apertures along the former DMZ, as ordered, and reports have come in from multiple sectors of increased Cardassian Military and Civilian traffic in the volume. It seems that the Cardassian’s are attempting to lay claim to and are seeding the anomalies with Nav – Buoys.”

Captain Williams nodded in affirmation.

“Yes, I’ve read your Action – Report and can confirm similar activity along the line. In one Sector there’s even reports of the Cardassian’s building some sort of platform or array in proximity to Underspace apertures.” Captain Willliams expounded on the wider strategic outlook.

“We need to be vigilant Sam and we need our eyes and ears out there. As soon as is practicable, you are to take the USS Savannah and embark from Terminus – Station to join the patrol line – we need the Savannah’s Long – range scanners out where they can do the most – good.”

“Understood Sir. As soon as we are able – we’ll get underway.” Lieutenant Commander Samantha Hyland acknowledged.

“See that you do.” Captain Trevenan Williams confirmed. “And be careful Sam, the whole quadrant is a powder – keg waiting to explode. I need you and your people to keep your powder dry and avoid any action likely to set a match to the fuse.””

“Aye, Aye – I hear that Sir, Hyland – out.”

Location: Grid Gamma – 4 / Former DMZ / Runabout “Wilmington”

Stardate: 2401.7.17 / 09:42hrs (Shipboard Time)

“You don’t like to talk about yourself do you Ensign?””

“Sure, I like to talk. I talk about lots of things. I just don’t want to talk to you.”

Sabreen el-Hannan regarded the Andorian levelly.

As a Mental – Health professional and Ship’s Councilor, the young Arabic – woman was not so easily put off by brusque demonstrations of hostility. In fact, her training and experience had taught her that such defensive reactions often told her more, than if the subject had opened their very soul and spewed forth a torrent of inner – doubts.

Truth was sometimes in the omission.

“Well, have it your way.” Sabreen nodded and spoke in a deliberately non-confrontational tone. “It’s a long boring flight and thought that it might be nice and would be better if we just got to know each other a little better – it might help pass the time?”

Ensign Ithariar Sh’eshikrar frowned her frosty brows at her companion and wondered if her good friend, Ensign Bysea Wanat (who as the USS Savannah’s Chief Flight Control Officer – had drawn up the flight rostering) had paired Sabreen with her on purpose. 

Her friend knew that she was entirely distrustful and resistant to therapy – even as Bysea embraced the process with the habitual, sunny disposition that she seemed to apply to all of life’s challenges.

Ithariar concluded that Bysea had definitely done this on purpose, the more she thought about it, and the almost permanently furious Andorian decided that her Bolian – bestie would be re-sitting her ‘best-friend-exam’ sometime in the near future – if Ithariar herself was not already incarcerated in the Brig again. 

This time for throttling a Ship’s – Councilor into unconsciousness in the defence of her own mental health.

“I have no desire to ‘get-to-know’ you councilor.” Ithariar growled coldly, a note of warning in her tone. “And if you knew anything about me at all, you’d come to realize that I am not a person that you want to get to know.”

A long, awkward silence hung pregnant within the tiny cockpit of the Runabout.

“You know…” Sabreen broke first. “When you are frustrated or angry, your Antenna signal the most fascinating display of non-verbal body language. Are you aware that they do that? It’s very interesting.”

Ithariar cursed her treacherous appendages (they really did seem to have a mind of their own sometimes) and was about to retort hotly when she was interrupted by the urgent clarion warble of an alarm.

“What is it?” Sabreen el-Hannan had been initially glad to be tasked with this mission to monitor one of the many Multicursal apertures to Underspace that had opened up all throughout the Former DMZ. 

As a Ships Councilor, she seldom had any opportunity to join with an Away Team and the whole notion had seemed sort of daring and fun at the time. That was, until you’d spent over 6 hours locked in a tiny space with the perennially antagonistic Ensign Ithariar Sh’eshikrar.

Now, the note in Ensign Sh’eshikrar voice, made Sabreen suddenly wonder if it wouldn’t have been wiser to stay at home after all?

“There’s a massive exponential shift in the energy signature around the event – horizon of the aperture.” Ithariar warned as she scanned her readouts. “Gravimetric Shear is increasing by a factor of five. Hang on to something, this could get a little bumpy!”

“What’s going on?” Sabreen did her best to keep the note of urgency from her voice as she strapped herself into her seat. Already the Runabout had begun to buffet, as if like an aircraft experiencing clear – air – turbulence.

Ithariar Sh’eshikrar fought to keep the small vessel stable in the wake of energies issuing from the anomaly and replied between gritted teeth.

“Somethings coming through! Going to Red Alert, Sheilds – up!”

Sabreen el-Hannan’s beautiful brown, almond – shaped eyes widened in fear, and she decided to let the Tactical Officer proceed and concentrate on her task – this was clearly a situation squarely within Ithariar’s wheelhouse and decidedly far from her own.

Out in the coldness of space, before the nose of the Runabout, the Subspace aperture that signaled the entrance to the Labyrinth, roiled and vomited out a lethal cocktail of radiations and exotic particles as the complex energies of the aperture began to dilate and focus….

…and spewed forth a single vessel.

“Contact! Single vessel bearing 40.689247 by -74.044502 by 24.349211” Sabreen confirmed as the sensors of the Runabout acquired the ship, her voice tense now.

“Running IFF protocol. Moving to intercept.” Ithariar responded with more confidence as the Runabout “Wilmington” pivoted sharply and approached the intruder that was encroaching from Underspace.

“We have positive ID.” The Andorian continued as the sensor pallet made sense of the telemetry coming from the unidentified craft.

“It’s a ……Kazon vessel?!” Ithariar sounded momentarily taken aback as the implication dawned on her. “A Shuttle – Indeterminate class. Tactical assessment indicates that they pose no immediate threat to us. Hull – markings are consistent with the faction documented as the “Nistrim.”

“What is a Kazon Shuttle doing here in the Alpha Quadrant?” Sabreen wondered with worry. “How could something that small survive the passage through Underspace?”

“That’s a good question.” Ithariar Sh’eshikrar answered grimly, her vertiginous antennae twitching in the anticipation of conflict, as the Runabout bore down on the lone Kazon craft. “Why don’t we ask them?” She opened a comm – channel and challenged.

“Unidentified Kazon Vessel. This is the Starfleet vessel “Wilmington”. You have unlawfully entered Federation Space, without prior clearance. You are ordered to stand down your engines and prepare to be taken under tractor – beam. Failure to comply with be construed as a hostile act. Respond?” Ithariar gained a targeting – lock on the Kazon shuttle, as if to emphasize the point.

The shuttle came to a stop but did not respond.

“No response.” Sabreen confirmed, her voice tense with a mélange of excitement and fear.

“I say again, Unidentified Kazon Vessel. This is the Starfleet vessel…”Ithariar began and then was suddenly interrupted by an urgent cry from Sabreen.

“I’m reading an exponential fluctuation from the Aperture. Readings are off the chart! Multiple contacts! Ten….no Thirty…wait…. maybe hundreds….. *Aaoo Zoo Billahee Minash Shaitaanir Rajeem!” (*I seek refuge with Allah from the accursed devil.) she breathed as the space between the Anomaly and the Runabout suddenly exploded with a massed number of arriving Kazon vessels, hundreds – no thousands of Kazon craft ranging from Hulking “Predator” – class Carriers, through multitudinous Kazon Raiders, down to nimble fighter-craft.

A veritable invasion fleet exploding into being right in front of the Runabout, dwarfing and overwhelming the lone Starfleet vessel by many orders of magnitude.

“Initiating evasive maneuvers!” Ithariar managed through gritted teeth as she tried to bring the Runabout around and escape from the path of the oncoming Kazon Fleet (but knowing that it was probably too late) “Open a priority hail to Starfleet Command and inform them that the DMZ has been penetrated by a Kazon attack fleet of unknown size! DO IT! DO IT NOW!!!”