ath: newsspool1.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!newsread2.news.atl.earthlink.net.POSTED!e4e3327b!not-for-mail Message-ID: From: "Jay P Hailey" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative,alt.startrek.creative.all-ages Approved: Moderator on Duty Jemima Pereira Reply-To: "Jay P Hailey" Subject: REP: Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile (OCC - TNG era) 33 - The Orion Rhythm, [PG] 1/1 X-Authentication-Warning: serv2.gc.dca.giganews.com: news set sender to poster@giganews.com using -f X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1437 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1441 X-DMCA-Complaints-To: dmca@comcast.net X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly X-Postfilter: 1.3.13 X-Spamscanner: mailbox6.ucsd.edu (v1.4 May 20 2004 13:55:33, 3.2/5.0 2.63) X-MailScanner: PASSED (v1.2.8 48095 i879mvae054052 mailbox6.ucsd.edu) X-Virus-Scanned: by amavisd-new at crosswinds.net X-Posting-Tool: modtool v2.0 Lines: 2340 Date: Tue, 07 Sep 2004 22:07:36 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 4.156.240.76 X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net X-Trace: newsread2.news.atl.earthlink.net 1094594856 4.156.240.76 (Tue, 07 Sep 2004 15:07:36 PDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 07 Sep 2004 15:07:36 PDT Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:160699 alt.startrek.creative.all-ages:2526 X-Received-Date: Tue, 07 Sep 2004 15:07:36 PDT (newsspool1.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile 33 - The Orion Rhythm Author: Jay P Hailey (JayPHailey@hotmail.com) Series: ST-OM, OCC - TNG era [XX/56?] Rating:[PG] Archive: Fine with me, just tell me where. Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Star Trek. I claim Original Characters and Situations for me. Webpage HTTP://jayphailey.8m.com Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile Episode 33 - The Orion Rhythm (Stardate 49085) By Jay P. Hailey and The Star Trek Players Alpha was a Green Orion woman. She never knew her exact age, but figured that she was getting pretty old. Most of the people she knew were younger than she was. Alpha was still very sensual and alluring. Externally she hadn't changed since she attained her full growth. If she was careful to mask her expression, no one could tell that she wasn't just another piece of Green fluff. Once again Alpha found herself on a slave ship heading for some unknown world. Time and tide made her dominant among the female slaves on the ship. She was the advisor, the confessor and the general emotional support for the younger women on the ship. This was the accepted role of the alpha female and Alpha performed this role well. The alpha female also controlled violence, arbitrated disputes and took her cut of the drugs and contraband that cycled through the ship. As long as the merchandise wasn't damaged and the "Natural Order" wasn't threatened, then the Orion masters encouraged and supported the alphas of their slave contingent. There were some draw backs. If there was violence to an Orion or an escape attempt, then Alpha shared the blame and the punishment along with the perpetrator. Dominant Greens soon learned to quash these activities in order to save their own hides. Of course the status of alpha carried other perks. Alphas generally got their way, and were rewarded with special privileges by the masters. This was not Alpha's first stint as a senior slave. Often the issue was settled with combat. Once upon a time Alpha, in a fit of ambition had beaten an older woman and had taken the post of alpha away. She remembered how bad a job she had done and how the whole experience left her screaming in an agonizer booth. These days, Alpha carefully avoided the top spot. It was too much trouble and entailed too much attention from the Orion masters. On this trip, Alpha was the oldest and the most experienced slave. She was named senior almost by default. Alpha took the job reluctantly but with the awareness that no one else would keep order as well. Telos, another Green Orion woman, did not agree with Alpha. She wanted the alpha post for all the selfish reasons and all the perks. Telos' ambition was tempered by fear. If she tried to defeat Alpha and failed, then her status would be harmed. Status and small dregs of power were very important to the slaves. They didn't have much else. Alpha did not doubt her ability to beat Telos and keep her in her place. What made Alpha really sad was that it was all something she had seen before from one side or the other. Even the move to new planet only offered a variation on a theme. Alpha was tired of the routine. Some masters were nice; others were cruel but the fact that none of them ever set her free meant that in the end it was all just more of the same. Even the small rewards that Alpha's life offered her seemed like a boring repeat. Alpha understood now why so many of the older women committed suicide. Zarnok, The alpha male came to her. He was gladiator. He had faced every type of opponent, even the odd Klingon who was captured alive. He won every match. Alpha eyed his muscular frame approvingly. As the alpha male he had the right to make the first sexual approach to Alpha. Sometimes the males tried to take a sort of ultimate alpha status by conquering the alpha female with sex, love or violence. Alpha was too old to be impressed by sexual tricks. Only the youngest of Green Orion females could be affected in that way. She knew that love was chancy at best. Her own true love had been stripped from her and sent away long ago. If Zarnok beat her, she would survive it. If he killed or injured her, then the Captain of the slave ship would kill him. Alpha made sure early on that he knew this. One Green woman was not worth a gladiatorial champion, but five were. A green male who was violent in this way was considered a beast who was uncontrollably dangerous. "Alpha." Zarnok said. "I wish to speak to you of my plans." "Uh oh!" Alpha thought. "Here comes big trouble." "I have been speaking with the others. We males are powerful warriors. You women are healthy and strong. We can bear our captivity no longer." Zarnok said. Alpha felt a little ill. If he had already been speaking to others, then his escape plot might already have gotten back to the captain. Worse, as the senior, the Orion masters expected her to instantly report all such talk to them immediately. If Alpha did not, then she would be tortured when the escape failed and the leaders were executed. Alpha turned away from Zarnok. "I heard nothing." "Telos said that this would be your response. She said she will challenge you once your cowardice was exposed." Zarnok said. "Telos is an idiot and so are you." Alpha said quietly. "You will both be tortured and thrown out the airlock." "Are you so certain? Our long trip has given us ample opportunity to study this ship and its weaknesses." Zarnok said. He was confident that his plan would succeed. "I'm certain. Zarnok, you bastard. You've put me in either the agonizer or the airlock. It is only up to me to choose which one." Alpha said. "It's not me. It is our Orion masters who put us in such positions." Zarnok said intensely. "Don't ever forget that." Alpha had to admit that the young warrior had a point. She thought carefully about what she would do next. It was literally a matter of turning over the leaders of the plot to be exterminated or joining them and taking the almost certain risk of being killed herself. Alpha realized that even the prospect of being tortured and killed sounded better than simply enduring more of the same for a few more years. "Listen to me carefully Zarnok. I will tell you how each of the escape attempts that I have seen has failed." Alpha said. Zarnok made himself comfortable and began to listen with intense interest. -*- Denkos arranged himself comfortably on his bridge. It was more difficult than it had to be. Denkos looked more like a leg breaker than the commander of an Imperial Orion cruiser. He had been trained as a technician, a lower middle class occupation. Through hard work, crafty intelligence and a sense of utter ruthlessness, Denkos had ridden every opportunity that fate had given him until he had enough to purchase his officer's commission and a command in the Orion Space Navy. Now he had to wear finery that was much more suited to the bored younger son of some noble house than to the commander of a starship. It was loose, billowy, flopping clothing that was out of place on Denkos and on the bridge of a starship, but appearances must be maintained. It was all part of the natural order. Nobles, even minor ones who command obscure starships were simply better than normal Orions. One did not flaunt the natural order. Denkos tried to make the best of a bad situation by hiding useful tools and devices among the many folds of his robes. The Orion cruiser Gilbron was a good investment. The Orion High Command allowed border patrol ships to keep a large proportion of the loot they were able to take. If a commander were lucky, crafty or very good, he could make a sizable fortune that way. Sometimes Orion commanders were able to take and hold entire planets that way. In this manner they became much greater nobles. This was offset by the risk of being blown out of the sky by Klingons. Klingon ships were good salvage, when you could get them home intact. Klingons didn't make good slaves, except for the gladiatorial pits. All in all, the Klingons made border patrol and deep space probes much more dangerous and risky a proposition than it would otherwise be. "Sir! I have a report!" The signals technician said. Denkos restrained himself. His natural impulse was to leap to his feet and say "Let's see what fate has laid before us today!" However, a commander could not be unrestrained with his crew. Nothing they had to say could be that important or they would command ships of their own by now. So Denkos lounged and said in as bored and apathetic a tone as he could muster. "Yes? What is it?" "Sir, we are receiving a distress call!" The signalman said. "Oh?" Denkos tried to sound unimpressed and failed. That would mean a salvage claim at least. "The slave ship Arno reports an uprising! They request immediate assistance, Sir!" The Signalman shouted happily. That meant a salvage claim against the ship and any slaves that happened to survive. If the commander of the slave ship was gone, then the Arno and any surviving cargo belonged to Denkos and the crew of the Gilbron. That would be a serious amount of money for all of them. Except for one little complication. "Was the signal aimed directly for us, or was it a wide band transmission?" Denkos asked. The Signalman checked. "Sir! It was a wide band transmission, Sir!" Denkos dropped all pretense of being a bored son of nobility and jumped to his feet. "Set course to intercept the Arno, maximum warp!" "Aye, Sir!" The helmsman replied. The Gilbron turned and began to streak towards the call. No one seemed to notice Denkos' less than noble air. Everyone knew that if a genuine younger son of nobility managed to get to the Arno then his noble rank would entitle him to the best pickings from the ailing transport. That was the natural order of things. -*- The Gilbron roared towards the location of the stricken slave ship. "Sir! I have a report!" The signal man shouted. He sounded unhappy. "What is it?" Denkos asked. "Long range sensors reveal that a starship has the Arno in tow, Sir! There are no life signs on the slave ship!" The Signalman was already counting his losses. "On screen." Denkos said. What crafty Orion commander had beaten him to the prize? The main view screen came to life and showed an alien ship towing the Arno. The alien was not like anything Denkos had ever seen before. Its main body was a large saucer. Various pods and nacelles hung off of it weirdly. The alien ship was huge, twice the size and eight times the internal volume of the Gilbron. "Who in the hell is that?" Denkos snarled. "Sound the alert!" -*- "A large number of slaves died in the uprising." Watabe said. He was the Chief of Security for the Federation starship Endeavor. "We managed to rescue 45 of them." "How about the slave ship's crew?" Captain Mitchell asked. "Fewer. About 15 of them." Watabe reported. "How many of each were there to begin with?" Paul Durango asked. "Some where over one hundred slaves and about forty crew." Watabe said. "What is the condition of the slave ship?" Mitchell asked. "Good. Most of the damage was to the main computer and it's internal security systems. The engines and life support are fine and the hull is intact. With a little work I can repair the slave ship's main computer and then we've got another ship." Genevieve said. She was the Endeavor's chief engineer. "Can you repair our engines with material from the slave ship?" Mitchell asked. Genevieve shook her head. "No, Sir. The Orion ships run on a different internal system. It's incompatible with our own." Mitchell sighed. "Captain, correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that be piracy?" Paul Durango asked. He was the Endeavor's Chief Science Officer. "We rescued the slaves. I don't think we have the right to tear apart the Orion ship afterwards." "Mr. Durango, have you made any progress on finding this end of the Delta Wormhole?" Mitchell asked softly. Durango grimaced. "We have it on long range sensors, now. It's 5 light years away, moving at warp 4. The speed and direction seems to change almost at random. I'm guessing at this point, but I'll say that this end of the Delta Wormhole is as repelled by warp drives as the other end is attracted to them." "So what is our chance of catching the wormhole?" Mitchell prompted. "If my guess is correct, almost nil." Durango admitted. "The mouth of the worm hole acts as a power leach. As we closed it would steal the energy from our warp-bubble. As fast as we approached it, it would recede that much faster." "Any other options?" Mitchell asked. "We're three thousand light years away from Federation space in the Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy." Watabe said. "If the engines weren't damaged we might be able to go straight home." Genevieve shook her head again. "Maybe, but if we broke down in the middle of the trip, that would be it for us. There are no stars out there. We'd be stuck for a very long time. "Worse than that," Durango added, "The amount of interstellar gas thins out in the Gunninga gap. Our engines wouldn't be able to scoop enough deuterium to operate at maximum efficiency. We'd have to slow down quite a bit before we reached the break even point. That increases the amount of time necessary to cross the gap to more than five years." "That increases the chances of a critical component failure." Genevieve pointed out. "What's the current status of the engines?" Mitchell asked. "Not great. The passage through the wormhole nearly destroyed them. Main power is steady at fifty percent, and our top speed is warp 6, no more." Genevieve said. Mitchell took a deep breath. "What Paul said was correct. To strip the Orion slaver of parts to repair the warp drive is illegal and unethical. I figured it might be worth doing life in a penal colony to get us back home." Mitchell grinned wryly "Fortunately, Orion engineering has saved me from that ethical dilemma." "Doesn't the rescue of the slaves pose a similar dilemma?" Watabe asked. "No. Should it?" Mitchell asked, confused. "Yes, it should, on two counts. One, intervening in the internal affairs of these Orions is a clear breach of the Prime Directive. Secondly, if we refuse to return the slaves, then we have forty five new passengers who contribute nothing and are an added drain on our systems." Watabe pointed out. "If we do try to cross the Gunninga gap, that might be the difference between success and failure." "You're all heart, aren't you?" Durango said, angrily. Watabe looked at him coldly. "Never." "That's enough." Mitchell said. "Watabe, question the Orion crew. Find out what you can about this region of space from them. When you're done, beam them back to their ship. Miriah is orienting our new guests. See that they are assigned quarters and safety training. As soon as that's begun, we'll move out." -*- "Here they come." Watabe said. They were back on the bridge as the first of the native ships to respond to the distress call arrived. "What's our status?" Captain Mitchell asked. "Main power is at fifty percent. Weapons are all on line. Our maximum speed is warp six." Brekka Di said. She was the Bajoran Chief of Operations of the Endeavor. "Can we boost main power at all?" Mitchell asked. He hated to get into a confrontation while his ship was in such dire straights. Watabe consulted the Chief Engineer. "No sir. The warp core is extensively damaged. Lt. Commander Quest reports she needs a ship yard to fix it." "Yellow alert." Mitchell ordered. "Mr. Watabe, what is your analysis?" "It's a standard Orion Raider design. His weapons and shields are on standby. They seem to be Klingon style devices, either captured or copied." Watabe said. "We can take him." "Good." Mitchell said. "Open hailing frequencies." "Aye, Sir." Watabe sent the signal. -*- "Who is your leader?" Miriah asked. She was the Klingon/Green Orion First Officer of the starship Endeavor. The group of Green women shuffled around, staring at her. They were naked or dressed in standard issue coveralls from the brig replicator. "Anyone?" Miriah asked. "No? Okay, listen up. This is Federation starship. In the Federation we don't have slavery. As of now, you are free people, with a few exceptions." The Orion women traded nervous and confused glances. One stepped forward. "What are these exceptions?" "Since this is a Starfleet ship under way in space, you are obligated to follow the orders of the Captain directly and without hesitation." Miriah said. "I'm sorry, but you don't get a choice in this. All of our lives may depend on it." "So what's the difference between being owned by the Captain and being obligated to follow his orders?" The Green woman sneered. Miriah thought about it carefully. "When we reach a starbase you will be well and truly free. Then you may file a complaint with Starfleet if you feel that the Captain has mistreated you." The women looked confused. Alpha and Zorn came in escorted by Security. They were the last ones beamed off the stricken slave ship. It was their duty as the strongest survivors of the uprising. Zarnok had not been the alpha because he was the toughest gladiator. Zarnok was alpha because Zorn could not be bothered with such things. Zorn was by far one of the scariest people that Alpha had ever seen. His figure seemed the same as any gladiator's. The difference was scarring. Zorn was covered with a network of scars. He had been extensively beaten and tortured by someone who cared nothing for his resale value. Then he had entered the gladiatorial pits with the same lack of concern. The thing that made Zorn scary was the look in his eyes. There was no love or warmth or happiness there. There was only a machine that quietly waited for its next opportunity to kill. The smell of the Orion pheromones was musky and pleasant to Miriah. The pheromones that caused lust in others was simply a pleasant smell that reminded Miriah of home. Alpha realized that she could smell the Klingon officer, too. "You're one of us?" Alpha asked. "I don't understand." Miriah said. She was looking at Zorn and his dead eyes. Idly she wondered if she could take him hand-to-hand. It was just another Klingon impulse that she had to suppress. Random fights with people would not help her present the impression of a professional Starfleet Officer. Miriah hardly noticed that she had these urges anymore. "You're a Green." Alpha used the Orion word for her race. Miriah nodded slowly. "I am half Green and half Klingon." Alpha was amazed. "How is this possible?" "What?" Miriah asked. "Me?" "I once had a child with a Klingon. She was a Green, just like me. Our kind doesn't mix, we breed more Greens." Alpha said. It was an old memory. Where was that girl now? Miriah said. "My mother and father had to work hard to get me." It was a nice feeling to know that they wanted her so much that they were willing to have her built gene by gene. It was a laborious and expensive procedure. "You wear the uniform of these people. Are you a member of the crew?" Alpha said. Greens were never used as the crew of a space ship. It was much too dangerous to teach them the technical skills needed. "I'm the First Officer of this ship." Miriah said. "Only the Captain outranks me." "The Captain owns you! Do you share his bed at night?" The other woman said. "Telos, be silent." Alpha said, with a snap. "Come in here and see if you can make me!" Telos said. Alpha couldn't believe that Telos would be so stupid. To challenge for the dominant rank among strangers could only cause problems. "Now is not the time." "Coward!" Telos hissed. "Stop." Miriah said. "We don't solve things that way here." "Am I or am I not a free person?" Telos said. "I'll tell you how free people do it. Every one who wants this woman to speak for them raise your right hand." Miriah gestured at Alpha. Most of the Green women raised their hands. Telos snarled and a few quailed, but mostly they kept their hands up. Miriah noted that the Orion fighter also put his right hand up. "That settles it. If she-" Miriah pointed at Telos "-tries to bully you or intimidate you, talk to your leader or to me and we'll throw her into the brig." They all looked at Miriah. "Stupid Bitch! We're already in the brig!" Telos laughed. "My mistake. Computer, drop security force field in brig module five." Miriah gave the computer her identification code. The field across the brig door turned off and the Green women were set free on the unsuspecting starship. Telos briefly considered attacking Alpha, but stopped. Might the weird Klingon/Orion woman interfere? Might the security goons with the guns? All this was hypothetical. The big gladiator was watching her with a cold expression that said "I know what you're thinking. Move and I'll kill you." Mutants and armed troops were one thing, but the gladiator scared Telos. "I have one more thing to say before we get you settled." Miriah said. "Since we don't hold slaves and since we consider you all to be free people, we can not force you to come with us. If anyone wants to return to the Orion ship please tell me. It's not too late now, but soon we will be away from it and I don't know when we can drop you on a friendly planet. Part of staying includes your promise to obey the orders of the Captain and his representatives. Does anyone want to go back?" No one did. Miriah led the group of green women through the ship assigning them quarters and explaining how things worked. -*- Alpha waited carefully to see what would happen. The sickbay of the strange ship was very complex. There were all sorts of people in there. They were treating the injured Green Orion survivors. Alpha had undergone medical treatment before. Some of it was quite competent. Alpha was valuable and her health was important. These people seemed a little distracted by matters of comfort. They used drugs to dull pain where the veterinarians who treated her did not. There were many humans in the sickbay. The crew of the ship seemed mostly human, which was weird. Alpha didn't think that humans even had starships of their own. Alpha was unselfconsciously naked. Green Orion women lost their nudity and sexual taboos early. The transporters of the big ship took Alpha away but left her clothing and weapons behind. There were human guards with big rifles at the doors of the sickbay. Alpha had heard at one time that Humans were as oversexed as Golden Orions, and maybe even more so. The glances that she was drawing from the people in the sickbay let her know that this might be true. Alpha had mixed feelings about it. Her body produced pheromones that caused lust in most humanoids, even Vulcans, though they hid it well. It was comforting to Alpha that her natural tools and weapons were still functioning. On the other hand, sex as a tool for power could backfire badly, and there did seem to be a lot of people on the ship. Alpha had been a prostitute before. She knew that after a while commercial sex became tiring and boring. Causing lust in the crew of this new ship could turn out to be either a curse or a blessing. The strange Klingon/Green woman was in the sickbay, aloof and precise. Alpha wondered why she was so repressed, but it really wasn't her problem. The doctor was a Vulcan lady. She approached Alpha. "Greetings." "Greetings yourself." Alpha said. "I request your help." Dr. Matae said. "With what?" Alpha asked. She would not have been so presumptuous with a Golden Orion, but all the Vulcans she had ever met had been slaves. "One of your males is reluctant to allow treatment. I am having difficulty communicating with him." Dr. Matae said. Alpha nodded and followed the Vulcan doctor to another wing of the sickbay. Miriah followed. Alpha understood the problem immediately. The patient was Zorn. Alpha gathered herself. "My son." She said. It was common for alpha women to adopt children and adolescents. Zorn had never had a chance to be a child or an adolescent. Alpha guessed that he was damaged in his mind. She had not adopted him on the slave ship because as soon as it reached its destination, they would be separated. Alpha didn't want to let herself care that much, when she would never know what happened. Now the situation was different. Zorn started and looked at her. What was that in his eyes? "My son, the doctor needs to make you whole. I want you whole, too." Alpha said. She discovered that she meant it. Many of the Greens were dead in the escape attempt. Alpha didn't feel like saying good-bye to anyone else. Zorn's expression broke for a split second. Then he looked dubiously at Matae. Alpha understood. He didn't trust the strangers. "He doesn't trust you." Alpha told Matae. "I am aware of that." Matae said. "Is there anyway to overcome this? This man is injured." Alpha realized that Zorn had a bandaged wound. He was probably aware of it, but it didn't trouble him. He was well versed in pain. "Let her treat you, please. I will stand over you. I will let no harm come to you." Alpha said. "I have taken an oath." Matae said. "I have promised to do no harm." Zorn looked at her blankly. Alpha told him. "She is a Vulcan. They do not lie." Zorn looked at Alpha and then nodded shortly at Matae. Alpha was struck by a moment of uncertainty. Zorn trusted her. If she betrayed that trust, then Zorn might kill her, and he would be justified. Alpha repeated an old rumor that Vulcans didn't lie, but knew for a fact that it wasn't true. She had watched a new Vulcan slave tell very convincing lies as he tried to escape. Of course, he was unsuccessful. Matae took out a scanner and showed it to Zorn. "This is a scanner. It will look into your body and tell me what it sees." Zorn looked at it blankly. Alpha knew he understood, but simply did not care that much. Dr. Matae began to scan Zorn. Her eyebrows rose. "Remarkable." Miriah looked over her shoulder at the display. "Oh, gods." Alpha looked over her shoulder. The scanner showed a mysterious picture that Alpha had trouble deciphering. It seemed to be Zorn's insides. Seeing her interest, Matae turned the display around so that Alpha and Zorn could watch too. "This is approximately here." Matae slowly pointed to Zorn's chest. As they went on, Matae pointed out each instance where a surface scar meant lasting internal damage. As she went on, Alpha watched her grow angry. Alpha knew that Vulcans liked to hide their emotions and to deny them. To see anger at all in a Vulcan meant that she was raving mad, by comparison. Alpha was touched. Were these people really that naive? "What point does looking at all of this do?" Alpha asked. Zorn's prior owner had everything fixed that could possibly be. "What could you do to about these old wounds? Let them go. Remembering them only brings out old pain." "I can repair all the damage we have scanned." Matae said. "If Zorn wishes, I will." Alpha was impressed. This was advanced medicine. As they scanned Zorn's head, they discovered that his tongue had been cut out. Matae had to leave for a few moments to regain her composure. Miriah's lips pulled back in an involuntary snarl. Alpha knew that Klingons snarled under many circumstances. Miriah was upset at finding Zorn's tongue missing. Alpha watched this strange display while Zorn fingered some of his old scars thoughtfully. -*- "In the name of the Great Orion Empire I demand that you return our ship, our crew and our cargo." Denkos said. "I apologize for any misunderstanding." Mitchell said. "We responded to a distress call. We responded appropriately. We mean no harm. However, slavery is strictly against our customs and laws. We will not return anyone unwillingly to your custody." "This is an act of outright piracy!" Denkos raged. His rage was carefully faked. The big alien ship had a good claim to the whole ship, crew and cargo, but they were assaulting the natural order. Denkos was confused, irritated and uncertain. "Call it what you will. We will not return the slaves." Mitchell said shortly. "Return the Arno and it's crew." Denkos said. "We'll discuss the rest. Don't assault the Great Orion Empire lightly, human. You will live to regret it." He cut the channel. "Any better results from our scan?" He asked the Signalman. "No, sir." He had quit yelling by now. "Much of the alien ship is open to scans. It's huge. The weapons and defensive systems are shielded. I can't guarantee you what they have or don't have." The tactical officer said. "By ourselves, that monster probably outguns us. With two or three more ships we can gain a definite advantage." "Enough for a capture?" Denkos asked. "Possibly." The Tactical officer admitted. "That would be nice." Denkos said. Even if a senior nobleman came to join in the capture, he would have to buy Denkos and his crew out of their shares of the claim in order to put the alien monster to work for himself. "Prepare to send a message." Denkos said. It was time to call for backup. -*- The Arno restored power and moved away from the Endeavor. Several new ships were heading towards the scene. One was already there. It was the Belkon, commanded by a distant cousin of the Emperor himself. NeBan was irked with Denkos. It was a hysterical, presumptuous act to call for help like he did. NeBan briefly considered arranging an accident for Denkos. As the commander of a patrol cruiser he had purchased his way into the lower ranks of the nobility. NeBan considered getting rid of him as a sort of preventive maintenance to keep idiocy out of the noble gene pool. NeBan decided he was far too late for that, and besides spending money on idiots even to exterminate them simply encouraged them. The alien ship was a marvel, true, but was it worth the price? If the attacked it, then NeBan was risking his own skin, which he valued highly. Following this, he would have to pay to repair his own ship and to buy out the rest of the captains who joined the effort. Now that the Arno was free, a lot of the profit margin was already in his hands. NeBan did the math in his head. Depending on what price the aliens asked it might actually be cheaper to pay the aliens off themselves than to attack them and pay the Orion captains later. "They have kept the surviving greens, Sire." His executive officer reported. "Hmm." NeBan said off handedly. They hadn't killed the crew, and hadn't charged anyone for the return of the ship. All the aliens had really taken was what was due them anyway. If they set the Greens free on their own world then it was really their own problem. "Hail the aliens." NeBan said. "Yes, Sire." The alien ship answered the call with a visual signal. Their bridge was a comfortable and modern looking place, done in a very understated fashion. NeBan enjoyed the subtle sensibilities displayed. The Orions couldn't afford such subtlety. A noble must proclaim his status or loose it. That was part of the natural order. The crew of the big ship was mostly humans. NeBan recognized them as a Klingon client race. Sometimes they were encountered as troops or very junior officers on Klingon ships. NeBan had a moment of fear. Was the monstrous ship a Klingon battleship luring the Orions into a trap? No. The Klingons weren't very subtle. Tough, vicious and tenacious, but not subtle. "I am Viscount NeBan of the Orion Space Navy. I would speak to your commander." NeBan said. One of the humans stepped forward. His uniform was a black coverall with colored shoulders, a small badge and gold buttons of some sort on the collar. It was virtually the same as all the other uniforms on the bridge. NeBan found himself thinking that perhaps these humans were being too subtle. He couldn't tell what anyone's rank was on that ship. "I am Captain Kevin T. Mitchell of the Federation starship Endeavor. We are on a peaceful mission of exploration. We seek open and friendly contact." The human said. Evidently captain was some sort of rank. This was obviously a watch officer trying to grab some glory or opportunity for himself before his noble commander arrived on the bridge. "I don't speak to underlings, Captain. Please call your commanding noble to the bridge and tell him that his equal wishes to speak with him." What was that about the Federation? NeBan tried to look calm and bored while his brain raced for the information. "I'm sorry Viscount, but I'm the senior officer on this ship. I am a fully authorized diplomatic representative of the United Federation of Planets." Mitchell said slowly. NeBan was quiet for a few moments. The commander of the ship wearing a uniform just like any engineer or janitor? NeBan remembered a history lesson from long ago when drugs, guns and lovers to abuse were his primary focus. Was it the Democratic fallacy? Yes. How could anyone look at the differences between people and assert that all people were created equal? It was patently false. NeBan wasn't surprised that the humans had fallen for it. They were downtrodden. The underclass always liked to blame their own inadequacies on the ruling class rather than admit that the fault lay with themselves. There were always some people on the bottom of society and many fewer at the top. This was the Natural Order and anyone with eyes could see it. Now the deluded humans would fill a few Greens with their sad ideas. Nothing too serious unless they tried to infiltrate Orion Society. Then they would be found out and exterminated. That, too was the natural order. "Where is this Federation of yours and what are you doing here?" NeBan asked. He kept his tone neutral and offhand. It wouldn't do for an Orion Noble to be impressed by a commoner, even one in a big starship. Mitchell gauged the situation carefully. Did he have anything to loose by being honest? He didn't think things could get much worse. "We came through a wormhole that wanders through this area. Do you know anything about it?" Mitchell said. "Ah, the Vortex. I pay little attention to such things." NeBan lied. The Vortex led to the Klingon Empire on it's other side. If this monster ship came through the Vortex then it was from Klingon space. No Klingon ship had ever made the trip back through the Vortex. Nor had any Orion ship to NeBan's knowledge. Warp drives repelled the mouth of the Vortex. The effect was damaging to the ships that fell through. The crippled ships were easy pickings for Orion patrol vessels and a prime business opportunity for them. Even if the monster ship could fight off the Orion cruisers, it had some very large problems. NeBan would be perfectly willing to help if there was enough in it for him. "Our Federation is a peaceful group of planets that band together for mutual trade and protection. If you could help us, I'm certain that my government would be very grateful." Mitchell said. He had never dealt with Orion nobles before, but understood that there were certain similarities to the Ferengi thought process. "How grateful could they possibly be from three thousand light years away?" NeBan scoffed. Then the human would tell him of the great deal of help that even a long distance alliance could mean. Possible trade and technical assistance and etceteras. It was a routine negotiation. NeBan wondered if the hidden weapons and shields of the monster ship would make it worth it? "We have some information that might help you understand our government and society a little more." Mitchell said. He signaled Durango to start downloading the public relations packet that the Endeavor carried. It was filled with truthful information, but was carefully screened to present a positive view of the Federation and hold little of military value. NeBan waved his hand distractedly. The information his ship was receiving promised to be interesting and potentially useful, but only if carefully applied. NeBan could never admit that he actually read anything or found anything outside of the Natural Order of Orion Society interesting or his reputation would be damaged. This meant that he would have junior officers read it, and wait to read it himself until he retired in privacy to his quarters. "Yes, well. How does this concern me?" NeBan said in well practiced boredom. "We have some pretty advanced science and medical techniques." Mitchell said. "It is our policy to share them freely with friendly races that we meet." He carefully spun the statement to imply a quid pro quo when ethically there was none. The Federation did offer to share science and medical databases with new races. "Hmm, science," NeBan breezed. "That's for my staff again. I really don't deal well with all the numbers." His eyes glinted. He could take ruthless advantage of advanced data, if it was truly superior to Orion techniques. The Orion Empire wasn't great for scientific research now, but over the course of centuries they had begged, borrowed, traded and stolen a healthy database of science and technical data. "Perhaps you could send a sample to let my staff know if they should bother. If your great science runs true to form, we have duplicates in our historical archives, you know." "I'll get some one on that." Mitchell said gravely. He knew that he might have a sale. He might be able to use the advanced data aboard the Endeavor to purchase free passage, a treaty and the right to chase the wormhole around this Empire. They might get home in less than half a decade after all. Miriah Katasai stepped out of the turbo lift onto the bridge. "Our new guests are as settled as they're going to get for now." She reported to Mitchell. NeBan rose half out of his chair. "What in the name of the Vortex is that!?" Mitchell looked confused. "That's my Executive Officer Miriah Katasai. She's half Klingon. You may have encountered members of her race. The wormhole is in their space on the other side." "Half Klingon and what else?" NeBan demanded. He thought he could tell. He was on his feet in a very aggressive stance. His crew would have been amazed, except that they were staring in horror at Miriah, too. Mitchell looked at Miriah, measuringly. She was a good officer, a talented starship administrator. Her race had been a road block for most of her career. To admit her origin might damage negotiations with the supercilious Orions. Mitchell decided. The Federation was an open society and the Great Orion Empire would just have to deal with it. "She is half Klingon and half Green Orion." He said. NeBan stared in shock. "What kind of people are you?" He hissed. Mitchell could see hatred and anger flashing on the faces of the Orion crew. It seemed far out of proportion. "The Federation doesn't believe in slavery, Viscount. We have found Green Orions to be valuable and capable citizens of our Federation." "And so you create genetic monsters from them to crew your ships!?" NeBan was horrified at the thought. "Genetic monsters?" Mitchell was confused again. "I will not tolerate this offense against the Natural Order, Captain! Destroy that!" He pointed at Miriah, "Or we'll attack you and do it ourselves!" "Red alert." Mitchell said to Watabe. He turned back to the main screen. "Viscount, Commander Katasai is valuable and honored member of my crew. I won't have you dictating the composition of my crew." "That is an abomination. If you wish to return to your home or find a safe harbor, then you'll destroy it now. If not, then you and your monster ship will be hunted down and destroyed." All thoughts of profit and increased status had disappeared from NeBan's mind. He was too upset by seeing the artificial mixture of Klingon and Green Orion to deal with such concerns. Genetic engineering was a major taboo in Orion culture. Using Green Orions as subjects for genetic engineering was even worse. NeBan was not certain why, but the taboo was so firmly ingrained that he would cheerfully kill and eat his own mother rather than tolerate a genetically modified Green Orion. His crew and the Golden Orions on the other ships in the formation felt the same way. These dangerous maniacs had to be destroyed before their perverse experiments spread. "I'm sorry, Viscount. No." Mitchell said. "So be it!" NeBan said. He cut the channel. He quickly reviewed his available resources. His own raider, the Belkon, the Gilbron and the lightly armed Arno. "Bring all ships to alert and withdraw along course 300 mark 17." NeBan said. "Sir, we withdraw?" His executive officer said. "Idiot! Do you want to attempt a frontal assault into unknown guns and shields?" NeBan raged. "We will harass them and harry them until more ships arrive. Then we will know more about their weapons and capabilities." "Yes, Sire." -*- "The Orion ships are withdrawing." Watabe reported. "That's good, isn't it?" Durango asked. "No." Watabe said. "If it were me, I'd shadow us and try to whittle us down until reinforcements arrive." "Hmm." Mitchell thought. "What would you suggest?" "They will send in the other ship, the Gilbron. I'd destroy him right off the bat, as quickly as possible. That might make the other ships hesitate. If they wait too long we might be able to slip away." Watabe said. "And you, Commander?" Mitchell asked Miriah. Miriah spoke thoughtfully. "I'd rather avoid a fight right now. We have no back up, and the Endeavor is damaged. If they get the initiative, too, then it's only a matter of time until they destroy us." Mitchell turned it over in his mind. He was beginning to hate this new section of space, badly. "Helm, set course deeper into the Orion Arm. Make a drunken stagger variation on the course. We'll implement it when we're free of their sensors. Engage at maximum warp." "Aye sir." Brekka Di, the Bajoran officer turned the big Federation around and entered the coordinates. The Endeavor streaked away from the Orions. "If the Gilbron attacks, we will disable it aggressively." Mitchell said. "Until then, we run." -*- The Endeavor ran for two days. The Orion ships let her get a good distance ahead, and then matched course and speed. They were shadowing the Endeavor. Inside the Endeavor the Green Orions were settling in. Some of the medical and science crew people were trying to help them adjust to the culture of the ship. This was not an easy or smooth process. Starship crew people were not paid in any sort of cash money. The concept was almost useless in modern society. The people who manned starships for the Federation were given allowances of material and energy to use in replicators. Delicate computer chips embedded in plastic sometimes represented these credits. A replicated credit chip would be useless junk and easily identifiable to a scan. Some people also liked Ferengi Gold-Pressed-Latinum. It was also hard to replicate. It had the advantages of being accepted nearly everywhere and being extremely hard to trace. On a starship these concerns were distant and unimportant. To the Green Orions, the replicators of the Endeavor seemed free. Several of them spent months worth of energy and material covering themselves in finery worthy of the wealthiest Orion Noble. Many of them discovered the lounge at the forward end of the Endeavor's saucer. The crew found Green Orions hanging around the lounge making it look like a sleazy dive. Some of the Greens tried to go into "business" for themselves, making personal liaisons in exchange for goods and favors. Telos enjoyed using her appeal to manipulate the emotions of the naive humans on the ship. She had power and used it ruthlessly. During all of this, Alpha was in heaven. She only used her replicator for basic clothing and food. She was too busy reading. Her quarters held a computer terminal that translated everything into a bizarre dialect of Orion. After some delicate questioning, she discovered that the information in the computer was mostly free. Alpha was soon reading anything she could reach happily. The more she read the more convinced she was that she was truly free, now. -*- Kevas Quatros was the Chief counselor on the USS Endeavor. He had his hands full with the Green Orions. His half Betazoid empathy gave him an intuitive understanding of just how the new people were adjusting to shipboard life. His Klingon side gave him an urge to be protective of his shipmates. Kevas had to control himself ruthlessly around the Green people. He had practice dealing with their pheromones and so that wasn't his problem. He kept getting angry with them. That would be a big problem. As a Counselor and a mental health professional, Kevas had to keep a discrete distance. He had to stay as objective as possible to help these people. He stomped back to the quarters he shared with his lover on the Endeavor. As the door slid open to admit him, he could feel depression and tension in the room. He locked the door and began to strip out of his uniform. Miriah had her back to him. She was doing the Mok'Bara discipline slowly, with great concentration. Kevas noticed again that her form was very graceful. For her, Mok'Bara was something of a dance as well as a martial arts form. Kevas changed into casual clothing and joined her in her forms. He wasn't as good at the martial arts discipline as she was, but he was getting better. In time, the flow of the form came to its end. Miriah turned towards Kevas. "Hello." Kevas looked at her. Physically she betrayed no hint of her inner turmoil. Perhaps she didn't want to discuss it? Then she should not have a relationship with an empath. "Tell me." He said. "The Orions." She said. Her voice was mild, but her emotions were hurt. "What about them?" Kevas said. It was almost reflex. "They...They don't like me very much." Miriah said, off handedly. Kevas saw that the breezy tone covered sharp pain. "This makes you very unhappy." Miriah took a deep breath. "Yes, damn it, it does." "Tell me about it." Kevas said. "You're off duty now. Don't be the Counselor at me." Miriah said. "I am not." Kevas said quietly. "I am being Miriah's lover. Your happiness is important to me. I can tell when you're unhappy. I will use every tool and weapon at my disposal to make you happy." "So you're asking me about the Orions?" Miriah asked. "That's not a subject that brings happiness." "Not the Orions. I'm asking for your feelings about the situation. No one would be surprised if you were suffering a certain amount of stress." Kevas pointed out. "True. There is stress, but I'm fine." Miriah put up a good face. "You are uncomfortable talking about it. If you don't wish to speak to me, I will recommend another Counselor." Kevas said. "No. There is no one else I'd rather talk to, but.." Miriah waved her hands uncertainly. "What is it?" Kevas probed. "Well, God Damn it!" Miriah had to fight to get it out. "I'm tired of always being the freak! I'm tired of always being the outsider, the weirdo, the alien!" "Is that what it is?" Kevas prompted again. Miriah grabbed the table and the surface began to deform in her grip. Her face was contorted in a grimace. "Starfleet, the Klingon Empire, the Orions, everywhere in the Galaxy I'm the one they point at and say what are you?" The table made complaining noises. "They have less in common with Captain Mitchell than me, and yet they were perfectly willing to negotiate with him. They were right in the middle of the discussion when I arrived on the bridge and then it's 'Kill the Abomination'!" Miriah yanked the table off the wall. The pins gave with a popping noise. "They don't even know me! They know nothing about me! It's all the color of my skin or the ridges on my head. They want me dead here, they either want me dead or gone on Q'onos. I hear jokes and racial slurs even in Starfleet where they train them to meet new kinds of people every day!" Miriah threw the table across the room with a crash. "Even at home I'm a little odd. The only one of my kind! Sometimes I hate it!" Kevas looked at her. "I don't believe that." Miriah heaved a big breath. "No. I don't hate being me, it's just that I hate always being the different one." "You're not alone in this." Kevas said. "Remember that." Miriah stopped and looked into the eyes of her lover. Kevas could see the realization cross her face and her mind. "No, I'm not, am I?" "No. Even in getting angry about it, you're not alone." Kevas said. Miriah looked at the ruins of the table. "Oh, hell." She went over and began to pick it up. "Don't you think that you have enough pressure on you without trying to be a Vulcan, too?" Kevas said. Miriah stopped. "What do you mean?" "You didn't want to discuss your anger with me. You didn't want to admit to it or own it." Kevas said. Miriah looked at the ruins of the table. "Well, I don't like getting angry. It's destructive and unprofessional." "Yes, and it's Klingon." Kevas said. Miriah shook her head. "I don't have to loose control to prove that I'm Klingon." "No but perhaps you could channel your emotions into more acceptable outlets." Kevas said. "Like what?" Miriah asked. "Well," Kevas grinned showing his teeth, "For a start, let's go down to the Holodeck and kill things. We don't have to control ourselves there." Miriah pictured the jungle and the smells and the hand-to-hand combat with the monsters that the holodeck could conjure up. She pictured seeing Kevas streaked with sweat and blood and breathing deeply. It wasn't anger that motivated her. "Sounds good." She grinned too. -*- "Yes, Sire." Denkos grinned an insincere grin. The Klingons might relish the honor of being the first to attack the enemy, but he didn't. "Don't waste your ship or your people too prematurely, Denkos." NeBan said. "We'll need every ship and gun when the time comes to destroy the aliens. You are to get information about their weapons and shields." "I'm just testing them, then?" Denkos said. NeBan restrained a frustrated sigh. "Yes, Denkos. You're to test them." "Okay. We're on it, Sire." Denkos said. He cut the channel. He wanted to call the royal cousin names but carefully restrained himself. He didn't know what spies NeBan might have in his crew. "Make ready for battle." Denkos said. The crew of the Gilbron moved to their duty stations. "Sire, I am having a problem setting the weapons. I can't guess the range at which we will have to turn aside, and so I can't tune the weapons for the best effect at range." The weapons officer said. "Set your weapons for close range." Denkos said. "Sire, a close range attack against a ship with unknown weapons and shields?" The weapons officer said, shocked. "Look at that monster." Denkos said, pointing at the Endeavor. "At that size, she won't be able to maneuver as well as we can." "That seems reasonable," The weapons officer said. "Then we will use this to our advantage. We'll make high speed slashing attacks and then withdraw when we know more." Denkos stated. "Yes, Sire." The weapons officer grinned. He wasn't going to die today after all. -*- The red alert klaxon sounded. The Endeavor swung around hard. Miriah and Kevas bolted from the holodeck. They were both covered in holo-gore and their casual off-duty clothes were ripped and tattered from the earnest attacks of the creatures in the Klingon calisthenics program. They both dropped large hand weapons inside the holodeck. No point in taking them along. Miriah loped along the deck happily. Perhaps her ship was under attack, lost in a distant section of space but Miriah felt as though she could take on the whole galaxy. Kevas was right, maybe she should let go a little more. -*- "Here he comes." Watabe said. "Hard to Starboard, Z axis minus twelve." Mitchell ordered. The Endeavor stopped her hard turn in one direction and began to roll in the other. The ship shuddered. "Light hit on number four shield." Watabe reported. Miriah walked out onto the bridge. She moved over to the Captain. "What's his range?" Mitchell was waiting until the Orion ship was close enough to cripple with a phaser blast. "He's veered off. He's being cautious." Watabe reported. "Captain, I recommend that we set phasers at half power and plink at him until he is lured in close." Miriah said. She could almost smell the Golden Orions in the other ship. Mitchell looked at her. She was covered in mock gore, he clothes were ripped up and she was shining with a layer of sweat. "Do it. I hope we didn't interrupt anything important, Miriah." She grinned at him. "Nothing that can't be taken care of later, Sir." Watabe fired the phasers at reduced power. -*- Several passes later the Gilbron was singed but not seriously damaged. Denkos was exultant. Not at all the noble type he was leaning forward in his command chair, directing the battle. "Bring us to 127 mark 43. Line us up for another pass. "Aye, Sir!" The Orion ship swept around and began to streak towards the big Federation ship. "I think another strike right here might breach their shields for good." Denkos said. "Yes, Sir!" The weapons officer chortled. "Wait until we are at point blank range." Denkos grinned ferally. "We have them now." -*- The Gilbron swept up to the Endeavor in a graceful roll. Miriah said "Bridge to Engineering. Channel full power through the phasers." Mitchell blinked. Miriah was serious about taking the Orion out. He let the order stand. He calculated the optimal range for the Orion's disruptors and said "Fire," half a second before the Orion arrived there. The phasers lashed out and pierced the Gilbron. The Orion ship's shields flared and collapsed. A huge hole appeared in the middle of the Gilbron and whole sections were engulfed in plasma. All power failed and the Orion ship dropped out of warp. "Arm photon torpedoes." Miriah said. The prey was helpless. It was time to deliver the killing strike. "Belay that." Mitchell said. Miriah looked at him accusingly. He stared at her. Miriah realized what she was about to order. "Leave him crippled. No more people die than absolutely necessary and the other ships have to stop and help the survivors." Mitchell explained. "Yes, Sir." Miriah said thoughtfully. -*- "Well, now we know." NeBan said. He watched the Gilbron tumble out of control away from the monster ship. "Analysis?" He asked his weapons officer. "We'll need four or five ship for a clean victory, Sire. We might take them with three, but we'd take heavy losses." The weapons officer reported. "When will we have five ships?" NeBan asked. He'd already put out a renewed call for reinforcements. "It would be some time. We'll have four before they reach Apolian space." The weapons officer reported. "We'll have to find a way to delay them." "There are still life signs on the Gilbron, Sire." "Detail the Arno to rescue them and try to get the ship back into some working order." NeBan didn't think that Denkos was worth the problem, but it would be nice to have extra guns when assaulting that monster. "Until then, we'll keep shadowing." -*- Miriah walked into the main lounge. She was distracted, her mind a million miles away. It felt good to let go and let her Klingon side out, but it also worried her. Was she really the type of person to massacre a crippled ship on impulse? She didn't like the feeling. There was fairly loud music playing in the lounge. Several Green Orions were dancing. Many more were draped in seats or on willing Starfleet Officers. Miriah stepped up to the bar and ordered her usual, a fruit juice. The lounge served alcoholic beverages, made from synthehol. Synthehol was an alcohol substitute. The effects could be thrown off with a good effort of will. Some people found the taste unacceptable. Miriah just found it pointless. As soon as she ever noticed any effect from synthehol, it disappeared. She used to blame it on her odd mixed bio-chemistry, but now she had a new cause to examine. Was she actually in touch with her Klingon side, or did she constantly repress herself? Miriah didn't even doubt that she had repressed things from her Orion side. She never even danced except in private. She regretted her occasional outbursts of temper. Her emotions were over powering sometimes. How much of Miriah was she repressing? "Does the Captain's piece dance?" Telos asked. Miriah looked at her coldly. "Oooh." Telos grinned "The Captain's Piece doesn't like me. Perhaps the Captain is now looking at a real woman." "You must be joking." Miriah said. "Yes, that's it. Little Commander Green Thing is close to losing her cushy ride. What's matter? Can't keep the crew sniffing after you with real Greens on board?" Telos laughed "Get lost." Miriah turned away. "Don't turn away from me, bitch." Telos snarled. "Unless you want a knife in your back." Miriah whirled back around to find Telos holding a wicked blade into her face. She could feel her lips pull back into a snarl. Miriah could see other crew men leaping up to her defense. The idea quickly occurred to her that arresting Telos wouldn't solve anything. Telos would challenge her again as soon as she was free. It was just that, a status challenge. If Miriah could put Telos in her place now, then she would save many more problems later. "No!" She barked at the crewmen coming to her rescue. "Let me!" A circle of Starfleet uniforms and Greens formed around them. "No one interfere! That's an order!" Miriah snarled. "Now you'll sing through two mouths, bitch." Telos said. -*- Alpha's door chimed. Someone wanted in, but the door wouldn't let them in until Alpha said it was all right. Alpha grinned at that, enjoying her sense of privacy. It was new to her. The door chimed again. "Come in." Alpha called. The door slid open to reveal one of the younger Green Women. "Mother! Telos has challenged the mutant in the lounge!" "Oh, Telos, you fool!" Alpha said. She grabbed her replicated knife and ran out of her quarters, towards the lounge. "How could this have happened?" Alpha thought. The answer quickly came to her. She had been so busy reading everything she could that she hadn't put any time in keeping her people in line. Now more than ever they needed someone to look to for guidance. Alpha had abdicated her responsibility. -*- Miriah was stunned by the ferocity of Telos' attack. It was fast and graceful. She countered and went into the proper Mok'Bara form. Just when it looked like Telos was done for she dodged away. Miriah adjusted her tactics. Telos was faster but probably not a strong as she. Miriah shuffled in at an oblique angle and attacked using her strength. Telos whipped around quickly and cut Miriah along her arms. Miriah quickly counter attacked and belted Telos to the floor. Telos regained her feet, and warded off Miriah's follow up attack. The two women circled each other. Telos looked angry and desperate. Miriah felt like shouting. Something inside her bubbled. She realized that she was enjoying the fight, even if it wasn't the best idea ever. Telos launched another attack. Miriah could see where her dancer's grace lent itself to her attack. Miriah took the attack on her arm and did a powerful sweep. Telos grunted and fell down. She rolled out, hobbling. Miriah's arms felt heavy and unresponsive. She knew that it was going to hurt badly, later. Miriah feinted and Telos tried to fend her off with the knife. Miriah grabbed the hand holding the knife. Telos fell backwards, dragging Miriah down on top of her. Miriah twisted the knife out of Telos hand with a popping noise. Telos screamed and kicked Miriah viciously in the gut. Miriah held on and levered the knife under Telos' throat. "Surrender, or I'll kill you!" She snarled. Telos glared with hatred, but relaxed, surrendering. Miriah levered herself up off her opponent. She stood facing the Greens. "Any more of this, and I'll have you stunned and thrown in the brig! Am I clear!?" Miriah found herself shouting. The Greens, male and female nodded soberly. Miriah was now the second ranking female among them. -*- Captain Mitchell found Miriah in sick bay getting her knife wounds healed. "Report, Commander." He said. "I had to discuss matters of ship's discipline with one of the Green Orion women." Miriah said. "By having a knife fight in the ship's lounge?" He asked. "She had the knife." Miriah said. Mitchell gave her an "Oh, come on." look. "It was a matter of relative status." Miriah explained. "They wouldn't believe in my authority unless I demonstrated it." "Are you all right, Miriah?" "Yes. Why do you ask?" "Um, over the last couple of hours you've been, well, less restrained." Mitchell said. "Not my usual professional self?" Miriah prompted. "Exactly." "Captain, I'm a Klingon. I'm also an Orion. I don't have a clear idea what that means. I've been concentrating so hard on being the perfect Starfleet Officer that I've forgotten what being Miriah means." Miriah said. "Okay. How far do you think that process will take you? Are you going to start having honor duels and killing people?" Mitchell asked. Miriah had been wrestling with that question. "Well, I didn't kill Telos, and I was enjoying myself quite a bit." "What does that mean?" Mitchell asked. "I don't know." Miriah said. "Perhaps I should leave the personal exploration for later." Mitchell shook his head. "That wouldn't work now and you know it. The genie's out of the bottle. If you try to stuff yourself now, you'll just make yourself unhappy." Miriah smiled. It was nice to have an understanding Captain. "I have to remind you that you're still a command level officer on a Federation Starship, and you're still bound by the Starfleet Code, Okay?" Mitchell said. "Try to bear that in mind." "Yes, Captain." "Knife fights in the lounge..." Mitchell walked away shaking his head. "Bet the crew reports are on time from now on..." Dr. Matae finished treating Miriah's wound. "Would you like me to leave the scars?" Miriah looked at Dr. Matae curiously. She'd never asked that before. "No, why?" "That is what Klingons do, isn't it?" The Vulcan physician asked. "Hmmm." Miriah thought. "No. Not today." -*- Alpha caught up with Miriah on her way back her quarters. "Commander, I must apologize." "For what?" Miriah asked. "Telos." "She's an adult. She made her own choices." Miriah said. "Keeping order among the Greens is the Alpha's job. Was I not elected to the position?" Miriah smirked. "You sure were. What have you been doing with yourself? I haven't seen you in the lounge very often." Alpha blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor. "I lost control of myself." She admitted . "On what?" "I was reading..." Alpha said. Miriah burst out laughing. "Oh is that all?" "But..." Alpha was stunned. "I couldn't think of a better excuse." Miriah said. "You like reading, huh?" Alpha grinned ruefully. "The worst thing that a slave can have is knowledge. What we learned was always carefully censored. I love all the things I can find in your computers. I feel like my brain has grown three times as large since I've arrived here." Miriah smiled. "That's wonderful. That's what we're all out here for." "Really? I don't understand." Alpha said. "Learning new things. We travel around in the Endeavor to places we have never been, we explore them. We meet new people, we talk to them." Miriah said. "Sounds like fun." Alpha said dreamily. Had she ever heard of a better way to live? She didn't think so. "Not always. We're lost and we can't find our way home. The Orions want to kill us. We don't know where we can turn for a safe harbor." Miriah said. This didn't sound great to Alpha, but she found it hard to be pessimistic. "Then we will explore until we find one. What else is your Endeavor for?" "Good point." Miriah said. -*- The Orion fleet slowly drew together. It was taking too long. NeBan waited impatiently. If the fleet got together as it looked like it would, then the battle for the monster ship would take place right on the Apolian border. NeBan had no doubts about how the Apolians would feel about that. He sent messages urging the other patrol vessels to hurry, and pictures of the genetic abomination to give them impetus. The other ships saw the prize awaiting them in the big ship and them saw the creatures that inhabited it. NeBan was pleased at the response. -*- "There seems to be a border of some type ahead of us." Watabe reported. "How can you tell?" Miriah asked. "We're picking up weak scans from buoys arranged in a line roughly across our path. If I had to guess, I'd say that they were warning and marker buoys set to alert some one if the Great Orion Empire tried to move ship into their area." Watabe said. "Sounds reasonable to me." Mitchell said. "What does our tactical picture look like?" "Not good. Long range scans detect four more Orion ships heading our way. They recently went from warp seven to warp eight or more. They'll catch us somewhere in the vicinity of the border. If there are more than two attacking us, then we'll be damaged. Three or four and we'll lose." Watabe said. "Is there anything we can do?" Durango asked. "If we can get better efficiency out of the engines, that will change the odds." Watabe pointed out. Miriah shook her head. "Genevieve says that this is the best she can do. I don't doubt it. We're lucky we didn't suffer a warp core breach in the wormhole." "Okay, then. Find me some terrain. Something to take advantage of. In open space, we're a big target but if there's something to hide behind..." "Noted." Mitchell said. "Paul, find Lt. Watabe some terrain." "Aye, Sir." Durango said. -*- Zorn walked into the lounge to find a much quieter place than before. He took careful notice of the position and body language of each person in the room. None posed a threat. The only people who really posed a physical threat were the Green Orion Gladiators and a very few of the Security people. This didn't worry Zorn unduly. If some one threatened him, he would simply kill them. It didn't matter how well they knew how to fight. Zorn didn't "fight with" anyone. If there was a threat he simply killed it. No one looked interested in bothering Zorn. Zorn relaxed a certain amount. It was good to find a place where he wasn't bothered a lot, but he never let his guard down. That would be foolish. Zorn knew that even the slowest and weakest of the people on the new ship could exterminate him from a distance with a phaser. His skill at killing would be of no avail then. As he walked among the chatting, distracted people, he caught sight of his target, Alpha. She was pretty, but looked very old to a person used to watching body language minutely. Her smell was especially musky to him. As he saw her he felt a surge of unexpected sensation. It was emotion. He didn't know what to do with it. Zorn's emotions had been an early casualty of his upbringing. A small secret part of him looked at Alpha and cried out for the mother he had never known. Could he someday let down his guard and not be the stone cold killing machine? In his secret heart Zorn fervently hoped so. He still didn't trust the idea, that would be foolish. Assailed by these strange thoughts, Zorn did what he always did. He focused on what he was doing with maniacal intensity. He walked up to Alpha and with a few hand gestures summoned her from the lounge. Alpha followed him out of the lounge, down the corridor and into a storage room designed to hold extra furniture and fittings for the lounge. Zorn checked to see that their privacy was total and then he took off his shirt and showed Alpha. Alpha looked at the smooth unbroken skin of the gladiator. The Vulcan lady was as good as her word. She had repaired the damage done to Zorn. "Inside too?" Alpha asked, grinning. Zorn nodded. The Vulcan lady showed him the scans of his insides. He knew very well what the insides of an Orion body looked like. It was a miracle of modern medicine that took away the physical signs. "Wonderful!" Alpha cried happily. She hugged Zorn tightly. His road back had begun. It would probably take his whole life to accomplish, but the first steps were beginning. Zorn hugged Alpha back like he was drowning. Tears flowed from his eyes. Zorn didn't know how to be happy or sad, so he just held on for a while. -*- The Endeavor rocked as the Orion ship made another fast pass. Phaser and disruptor beams were exchanged, inconclusively. "How long until we reach the system?" Miriah asked. "One hour, Sir!" Brekka Di answered. This was more the style of fighting she was used to. Out numbered, no back up, and possibly out gunned. She found that her nostalgia for the Bajoran resistance was badly misplaced. Brekka Di now greatly preferred the Federation style of fighting, which involved fleets of starships and massive firepower. The Federation felt that if there was to be a fight, then it wanted it to be quick and grossly one sided in the Federation's favor. Brekka Di found herself agreeing avidly. "We won't make it at this rate." Miriah said quietly to Mitchell. "Watabe's doing the best he can." Mitchell said. "If you can help, then do so but don't joggle his elbow." "Aye, Sir." Miriah got up and went an unused science station on the Bridge. She turned it on and called up the tactical display. "Transfer photon torpedo control to my station." Watabe didn't even look up. "Aye, Sir. Transferring. I suggest one or two torpedoes at a time. Keep them away." The screen came to life showing Miriah how many torpedoes she had and the relative position of the enemy ships. "Ready, Captain." She called. Mitchell nodded "Shoot to cripple, Commander. Fire at will." "Aye, Sir." Miriah adjusted her targeting. -*- An Orion ship swooped down on the Endeavor. It's captain was as blase and unconcerned as NeBan pretended to be. "Sire, there is an energy build up." His weapons officer reported. "Type?" The Captain drawled. "Perhaps an anti-matter missile." "Evasive." The Captain waived off the report. "Continue the attack." NeBan would have his prize, and He could spend several months at the Imperial Seat enjoying real culture.. The weapons officer gulped nervously and keyed in the attack pattern. -*- The incoming attacker swooped and dodged like he knew what Miriah had in mind. "That one's yours, Commander." Watabe called. "Got it." Miriah reported. She focused on the screen with intensity. Her fingers flew over the control panel entering targeting data. Swoop, swoop, dodge, swoop, swoop... Miriah fired a full spread of ten photon torpedoes at him. The lights on the bridge of the Endeavor dimmed with the power demand. -*- The torpedoes streaked away from the ship and separated. They flew to a certain distance and then curved back at the Orion ship. "Aaa!" The Weapons officer cried. He keyed in a desperate turn, but the torpedoes were moving much faster than the Orion ship could turn. "Like fireworks..." The horrified noble commented. The photon torpedoes surrounded the Orion ship and detonated. Each shock wave hit from a different direction. The Orion ship tumbled like a leaf in a storm. -*- Miriah turned to the stunned bridge crew. "Lieutenant, how's that look?" She called to Durango. The Science Officer turned to his sensors and read off the report. "His shields are down. He's lost main power and his auxiliaries. Light casualties." He turned to look at Miriah "Heavy structural damage. They have little of no structural integrity left. No weapons, nothing. They aren't going anywhere." "Is their ship going to hang together?" Mitchell asked. "If no one moves very suddenly ." Durango guessed. "New report, escape pods are being fired from the Orion ship." "Like that, Captain?" Miriah asked. Mitchell gave Miriah a wide eyed look "Okay..." "That's the way I like to see it." Brekka Di commented. "The other ships are backing off, now, Captain. Miriah impressed them." Watabe reported. -*- NeBan snarled. "Message to the Arno. Forget the survivors for now. Join the attack. We've got to get them!" He wasn't even remotely bored or unconcerned now. "Sire? Are you certain?" His Weapons Officer asked. "I will not let those monsters go!" NeBan raged. "We must hold them until the other ships get here!" "Yes, Sire." The Officer keyed the message in. "Sire! I have new contact coming in." "Identify!" NeBan was about to have a coronary event. "It's from Apolian space. It's moving at extreme warp speed." "Apol?" NeBan squeaked. "It looks like him." NeBan grimaced. "Break off the attack, and prepare to retreat." -*- "I've never seen an energy signature like that before." Durango said. "It's coming in at Warp 9.89" Watabe said. "Is it an Orion?" "I doubt it." Durango said. "I don't know what it is, but it doesn't look like them." "How soon until it gets here?" Mitchell asked. "Three minutes." Watabe reported. "Open hailing frequencies. Transmit linguacode friendship messages." Mitchell ordered. "Aye, Sir." Watabe responded. "Captain, the Orions have seen the intruder." Miriah reported. "They're breaking off." "This could be good, and this could be bad. Let's be ready for anything." Mitchell said. -*- Three minutes later a glowing globe three hundred meters streaked into the area. It came to within five thousand kilometers of the Endeavor and then suddenly shrank, leaving a starship. The ship was a mix of primitive and modern. It was a big metal rectangular shaped box with Klingon style engines, weapons and shields mounted on it. The starship began to pursue the retreating Orions, firing. The glowing globe was now two meters wide. It made a beeline for the Federation ship moving at incredible speed. A few meters away from the Endeavor's hull it vanished utterly. -*- "Where did it go?" Mitchell yelled. "Find it!" "Scanning, Sir. No signs." Durango reported. "All hands, brace for collision!" Miriah called. "No response to our hails, Sir." Watabe reported. A figure materialized on the bridge in a flash of light. A humanoid figure, over six feet tall and muscular, with bumps on his forehead and a bifurcated ridge down either side of his nose. His eyes were glowing. He wore a superior smile. "I answer your hails now." He said. "I am the god Apol. You are in my space." -To Be Continued- -- Jay P Hailey ~Meow!~ MSNIM - jayphailey ; AIM -jayphailey03; ICQ - 37959005 HTTP://jayphailey.8m.com "Truuuuust me... I have other things that are much, much better."--Amy NewMessage: