Star Trek Battle #1 - Changing Loyalties

[DaBomb]

His new crew were energetic and full of zeal, though a little too distant and different for his taste. Captain Tomas Cain missed his old crew, and his old ship. He missed his worn-leather captain's chair, and the amiable banter between crewmates when they had little work to do. He missed the strong arm that was Darryl Genova, his first officer, and he missed his old assignments.

He now Commanded the U.S.S. Dreadnaught, a vessel for military purposes. It had just been comissioned from space dock, and though DB was rather accustomed to his scientific assignments of the past, he took up this new mission, to defend the Starfleet borders against threats or spacial disasters.

"Captain, we have almost reached the Badlands," Lieutenant Jameson reported in her crisp voice.

"Sensors show no vessels in range," the tactical officer, Ensign Harris said shortly after. This new crew worked like clockwork.

But sensors inside the Badlands meant almost nothing.The astral eddies, spacial currents, wreckage from lost vessels and solar energy that existed inside the twisting, golden currents of the Badlands blocked almost all sensors, and masked any signs of others. Da Bomb, or Tomas Cain, gripped the arms of his seat a little tighter as his vessel lurched at low impulse power toward the serging mass of plasma.The shields of the Dreadnaught would take care of any radiation, but a blow from one of the plasma currents could cripple the mighty vessel. So, they proceeded with caution as they entered...

[DaBomb]

Nolan peered up from the padd (a small device similar to a palm pilot) as the laptop in front flicked on, and the visage of an old friend appeared. Nolan placed the padd down, and with a smile greeted his ally.

"...I'm fine, Harry," the person said on the viewscreen, "But the badlands are no comfortable place. My crew is getting agitated by the continuous shaking generated by the plasma currents, and the radiation that leaks in every so often when our shield generator breaks down."

"Breaks down?" Nolan repeated.

"My vessel is small and rather ancient compared to the new models available. The Federation has tightened security, and so it is a lot harder to steal ships of decent quality."

Nolan smirked, "I know. I personally increased the security."

The man look surprised, and raised his eyebrow. "You?"

"Don't worry," Nolan replied, "I gave you the sensor frequiencies of every ship in your area. They can't track you."

"If they do?" the man asked.

"I'll send you an updated list of the shield frequiencies. If you get into trouble, you'll have no problem fighting your way to safety," Nolan chuckled. The narrow minded, too-trusting Commanders and Ensigns below him had now idea of his illegal efforts.

"Must we travel through the badlands?"

"Of course," Nolan said, "It offers protection. The Federation vessels seldom go inside, and are a lot less maneuverable than your little shuttlecraft."

"Fine. When is the next shipment of holograms due?"

"Tomorrow, 600 hours."

The man nodded, and the console flicked off.

[DaBomb]

His night was totally devoid of sleep. After he realized that no dosage of medicine could relieve his splitting headache or restlessness, Cain asked the replicator for a coffee and watched the stars. The replicator was a small area in the wall, where any chemical, food or weapon could be created if asked for. The Federation had supposedly proved that replicated food was exactly the same as home gown, natural sustenance, but DB felt that they tasted just a little different...

His motionless staring at the stars outside was interrupted as his Lieutenant Commander strolled into Cain's quarters.

Kreisbourg had a clean and impresssive record, and had proved himself during these first few days with their new captain.

"Sir, you have a message from Starfleet Command," he notified. Da Bomb/Cain maintained his watch over the stars.

"Who from?" Da Bomb finally asked.

"Unknown, sir," Kreisbourg replied. He stood there, stiffly in the doorway, having not enough courage to step inside the room at that moment; it showed the captain and the new crew were not used to each other. "There was a level six encryption code. It must be important."

Da Bomb looked over suddenly. "Level six? Have it rerouted to my personal monitor."

"Yes sir. It will be done." As Kreisbourg left the room, Da Bomb smiled; it was obvoiys that his commands would be performed, yet this officer had to confirm his actions. This new crew and captain were far too distant at that moment.

Da Bomb seated himself at the glass table, and switched on the monitor.

"Yes," he mumbled, the lack of sleep suddenly overcoming him.

"I am Adrimal Montgomery of Starfleet security." The man was wrinlked, and at least sixty; regardless, he was far from senile, and in fact was a noted officer inside Starfleet. He needed no introduction.

"Good...night, Admiral," Da Bomb smiled.

"Yes, I apologize for the late hour at which I call you," Montgomery said, "But it is urgent."

"I guessed as much. Level six encryption is seldom used."

"I can't have Romulans or Cardassians or heaven forbid, Maquis hearing this," Montgomery continued.

"Go on..." Da Bomb knew this was far too pertinent for chit-chat; he needed to get to the point.

"You were sent to the badlands, for a reason, Cain, but not the reason we told you."

"I know," DB replied, "I didn't think a warship would be on a mapping/research mission.'

The admiral chuckled. "That was a rather see-through deception, but it was valid. Now that these happenings have worsened, I think I need to tell you..."

DB nodded, and listened.

"I think I can trust you, Cain. You follow orders, but have the intelligence and initiative to work you way out of problems. Anyway, the situation is grave. When the cardassians invaded Bajor, they inherited many enemies - Bajorans and their sympathizers. Now, there has been an elite group formed known as the Maquis who have been attacking the Cardassians in retaliation of the invasion of Bajor." The Adrimal's eyes were grave.

"Yes. I have heard of them. Scoundrels!"

The Admiral looked surprised. "You are one of the few who consider them to be scoundrels. I thought I was the only one who found their illegal acts, guerilla warfare and petty theft dispicable, but apparently you share my views. Good."

DB smiled. "So I am dealing with Maquis then? But then again, I doubt a level 6 encryption would be used to tell me the co-ordinates of a small amount of maquis."

"You catch on quickly! The corruption spreads far beyond the Maquis. The Cardassians found several Starfleet Mark-1 holograms on board a large Cardassian freighter, posing as important Cardassian dignitaries, and more on Beridia two, a hideout of the Maquis." The Admiral looked a little brighter them before. Perhaps his confidence in DB had improved.

"Starfleet? That's-"

"-what we are dealing with," the Admiral interrupted.

"But the Mark-1s are medical holograms. They aren't programmed to change their form or spy or fight." DB was, for a change, confused.

"The Maquis reprogrammed them."

"But in order to reprogram Starfleet holograms, you need the access codes," DB said.

"Here's the story: someone is selling Mark 1s and their access codes to the Maquis. The latter are reprogramming these holograms, and are sending them into fight. At least a hundred cardassians have died so far." Sadness grew on the Admiral's face. The Cardassians were deranged and hated by all, but the treaty between them and the Federation was too important to allow personal feelings into the field.

"And this trading of holograms is happening in the Badlands?" DB asked.

There was no response. The Admiral was looking to his right, and speaking to another with an expression of concern on his face. DB couldn't see the face of the new person, and could not hear the words being uttered.

"Admiral?" DB asked.

Suddenly, the Admiral shot up, and began to shout. DB only heard scraps of the conversation. Suddenly, the Admiral fell to the ground, a phaser burn on his chest, and then the monitor went black.

[DaBomb]

Da Bomb/Tomas Cain tapped the keys of his personal computer furiously, attempting to regain communications with the Admiral. After a minute or so, he realized that he had been totally blocked, and his communication frequency jammed. There was no way to contact Starfleet command now.

Cain pressed the communication badge on his chest and said, "Commander, go to yellow alert, and set a course for Beridia two."

The commander's voice crackled through the badge. "But sir, why go to-"

"-just do it Commander," Cain cut off before hurrying to the bridge.

***

Nolan stared at the body below him. The Admiral was still moving painfully, and his eyes were partially open, but the phaser burn on his chest, and the blood that was leaking through the charred flesh would keep him down. Still, he was alive, and that was not supposed to be.

"...Nolan...." Admiral Montgomery gasped hoarsely.

"Yes, Eric, you are indeed correct," Nolan sneered.

"...why?" Montgomery panted.

"Because once the Cardassians declare war on the Federation, you'll anihilate each other, allowing the Bajorans and Maquis to colonize peacefully."

Montgomery said no more. His lack of response was most likely due to the pain he suffered, but something told Nolan that the aged Admiral was too disgusted to speak. Regardless, Nolan continued with his mission. He tapped his communication badge, which had been modified to send messages only on a secure line, and asked for Lieutenant Jameson. As several of Nolan's allies dragged away Montgomery's body, Jameson's crisp voice came on the line.

***

Jekri Jameson had been browsing over old reports when he comm. badge chirruped. She noticed that the ship she was on, the Dreadnought, was making it's way to the Badlands at full impulse. In such a dangerous area, the faster warp speed could not be used.

"Jameson here," she said casually.

"Are you alone?" was the reply. Jameson lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Yes. Am I to proceed with stage two?"

Nolan's voice was also almost silent. "Yes. Begin replacing the gel packs."

"Montgomery?"

Nolan smiled. "He took some...shore leave. Meanwhile, I have been given his position, and so am in charge of operations against the Maquis."

"Brilliant!" Jekri Jameson said, her eyes bright, "With you there, we cannot fail!"

"True," Nolan replied, "But we must stick to our task. If you can, try to interfere with your new captain. Do anything you can to stop him - but do it covertly."

Jameson smiled. "Anything?"

Nolan laughed.

"I'll get right on it, sir."

[DaBomb]

Da Bomb gripped the arms of his seat as the navigation officer, Ensign Connelly guided the giant Federation vessel through the seering yellow plasma swirls and astral eddies. Behind him was the ever-confident Ensign Harris at the tactical station, Lieutenant Commander Kreisbourg at the engineering station to his right and Commander Robertson beside him. Surprisingly, Lieutenant Jameson was not at her station.

"How long until Beridia two, Connelly?" Tomas Cain asked.

"12 minutes sir. But I am having a little trouble with my thrusters, sir," was the instant reply.

"Robertson, check the thrusters, please," Cain said. His old first officer would have automatically checked, but such anticipation would take time.

After a brief period of Robertson tapping his small control panel in the arm of his chair, the first officer answered. "Nothing appears to be wrong with the thrusters. They are in perfect working order."

Cain raised his eyebow before Connelly at the helm replied, "Sir, something is wrong with them."

There was a sudden jolt, as a plasma current hit into the side of the mighty vessel.

"See," Connelly continued, "I can usually get past any and all currents."

Cain nodded. He knew her record, and apparently she was a very competent pilot. So why were they having problems navigating?

Though he didn't want to, Cain had to stop. It was of great imporatnce that they reach Beridia two, but these plasma currents would destroy the vessel if not avoided.

"All stop," he said, "Tell the engineering crew to check and re-check those thrusters. And tell all senior staff to meet me in the briefing room in 3 minutes."

[DaBomb]

Jekri Jameson heard the call for all senior personnel to make their way to the brefing room whil in a Jeffries' tube. These tube were crapmed shafts that allowed access to many areas of the ship, and the technology that ran the ship too. In her hand was an old gel pack; inside was a blue goo of some kind, that used biological matter to send electronical signals through the ship. It was a new technology, but one that Jameson knew all about.

The old gel pack had been programmed with standard commands from Starfleet. The new gel pack Jameson had created and placed in the steado f the old one had been programmed to interfere with communications, sensors and the engines. As soon as she was finished, she made her way to the briefing room.

***

Captain Cain: I have been so stupid. I thought that because this crew was so new, I could not present them with the information I had learned. It turned out that I was not sure of myself, and I apologize for informing you of this...terrible news so late.

Commander Robertson: Perhaps it was correct to withhold the information until it was needed to be said, sir. After all, it is the Captain's decision.

Captain Cain: Maybe, commander.

Lieutenant Jameson: (Seating herself) Sorry I', late, sir.

Captain Cain: Yes, yes, well, let us begin. You all know of the Maquis, correct?

Ensign Connelly: (Nodding) They are the terorist group that killed my brother!

Captain Cain: Easy, Ensign. Their ways are illegal, but they have a somewhat noble cause. Anyway, someone in Starfleet had been selling the Maquis Federation holograms for use in their attacks. These transactions are occuring in the Badlands, and I need to stop them.

Lieutenant Jameson: Are you sure of that, Captain? I thought most Maquis resided in Sector 039.4 - several million kilometres from here.

Captain Cain: No. They are here.

Lieutenant Jameson: How do you know?

Captain Cain: Jameson, your attitude requires work. But for now, I would appreciate silence from you.

Lieutenant Jameson: Yes...sir.

Captain Cain: Good. Now, we need to get through these plasma currents fast, to stop these Maquis ASAP.

Lieutenant Commander Kreisbourg: I ordered engineering to check the thrusters, and according to their sensors, there is nothing wrong with them.

Captain Cain: Yes, but on the other hand I tested the thrusters personally, and I know they are not in working order.

A sudden, violent jolt knocked all out of their seats. DB sood, and rushed to the communication panel.

Captain Cain: Bridge, what the hell is going on?

Ensign Harris: The Maquis sir! Shall we return fire?

DB shook his head. Of course he should.

Captain Cain: That may be prudent, Ensign. Raise the shields, and hold off the Maquis until I get there. Use evasive maneuver protcol 7 Alpha.

Ensign Harris: But sir, the thrusters! They have completely gone!

Captain Cain: Damn! Fire at will. All hands, battlestations!

[DaBomb]

Tomas Cain charged onto the bridge, having no time to balance himself properly or take into consideration Lieutenant Jameson's objections to his information. He stopped inside the turbolift, and the high-tech elevator hummed upward to the bridge. The doors hissed open, and Cain stepped onto his new bridge.

"Photon torpedoes! Keep firing! Target the lead ship!" Harris barked, doing an above-average job of command in such a dire situation. On the virewscreen in front was the image of 6 small, Federation shuttlecraft, and a Cardassian ship off the port bow. It appeared that the Maquis had commandeered Cardassian vessels too.

"I'll take it from here, Harris," Cain said, "Now where are my thrusters? We need to move this ship!"

"Still offline!" Jameson shot back from her station.

Cain muttered a four-letter-word, and rushed over to the helm console that piloted the ship. Connelly, who had been manning the console at the time, stood, and allowed Cain to take her place.

"We still have impulse drive," Cain said to himself, but the entire crew heard it.

"Sir, going at that speed would rip this ship apart!" the first officer protested.

Cain nodded. "So will these Maquis if we don't get out of here!"

As he tapped in the commands, the Dreadnaught accelerated through the plasma streams and astral eddies, being rocked and jolted by the continuous Maquis fire and the plasma lightening.

"Shields have collapsed!"

"How?" Cain fired back, letting Connelly retake her heml station.

"They knew the shield frequency!" Harris replied.

"Structural integrity at 27 percent!" Kreisbourg interrupted, "We can't take much more of this!"

Another jolt knocked First officer Robertson from his feet.

"Beridia two! We are here!" Connenlly shouted.

***

The Maquis shuttlecraft began to surround the massive Federation ship, while the Cardassian cruiser came from behind, its yellow phasers smashing into the rear of the Starlfeet vessel. The Dreadnaught retaliated, firing every phaser bank until two of the shuttlecraft had exploded, and then it began to bombard the Cardassian cruiser with powerful photon torpedo fire. The flashing explosive torpedoes cut through the enemy shields, and smashed into the engineering section. Metal debris and even people flew out from the breach in the hull as the cruiser stopped, its engines destroyed. It continued firing, though, until the Dreadnaught was out of range.

***

"Structural integrity is failing!" Kreisbourg shouted. It seemed everyone on the bridge were rasing their voices now.

"Impulse drive is down" exclaimed Connelly, We can't stop! We are on a collisiom course with Beridia two!"

Cain gritted his teeth. "How many more Maquis are there?" he said.

"Two shuttlecraft," Robertson replied.

Cain nodded, and ordered the last two adversaries to be utterly obliterated with photon torpedoes. But the Maquis were no longer their biggest threat...

***

The massive vessel's metallic hull turned into a white-hot colour as it rushed through the atmosphere of Beridia, and within a minute, areas of the hull were being ripped off by the turbulence and lightening in the clouds. The Dreadnaught kept going, the structural integirty at critical and the shields completely gone.

Finally, they emerged from the clouds, and found themselves only a mile or so above the rocky, barren ground below. Cain desperately tried to regain the impulse drive, so that they could avoid crashing into the landscape of Beridia, but it would take at least an hour to repair the said system.

The ground came closer and closer, until the mighty vessel ploughed into the ground, smashing up rocks and sliding across the lands, the hull being sheared from the ship and the crew being mercilessly battered by the continuous jolting they were exposed to. Finally, the ship began to slow, after skidding out of control for some time, until it smashed into the lower portion of a mountain range and came to a splitting halt.

[DaBomb]

Cain awoke with a sudden flinch, and realized that he was lying below a pile of metal. He inhaled a deep breath, and heaved up the debris from his chest and legs. The tried to stand, but a searing pain in his knee prevented any kind of movement from the Captain.

"Robertson? Kreisbourg? Anyone?" he called out hoarsely, his lips bleeding.

"...I....I'm here," came a whisper. A sudden light clicked on, and cut through the shadows on the bridge.

It was at that time Cain noticed how much devastation has been caused. Originally, when he had first awoke, it seemed likely the lack of light was most likely caused by a concussion, but now he saw that the once bright consoles placed around the bridge were without power, and the usual lights were inert and devoid of electricity. It was Jameson who had replied to Cain, and it was she who had the flashlight. She began to sift through the denris on the bridge, and soon found all of the officers.

"How....how are they?" Cain asked reluctantly. Losing Starfleet personnel was one thing, but losing them because of your orders alone was worse.

"Battered, but they are stable," Jameson replied. She made her way rather grogilly over to the Captain. "How about you?"

"Dunno."

She smiled, and took out an emergency medical pack from under a console. She opened it, and scanned Cain with the medical tricorder.

"At least we have one peice of technology that works," DB said. Jameson took out a short, glowing instrument from the pack, and pressed it to the facial injuries on Cain. Her hands were warm and tender.

"You are quite the wall, Captain," she smiled once more, "You don't seem to be in bad shape. But your leg..." Her face was grim as her hands moved to the bloody shard of metal embedded in Cain's knee. The surrounding tissue and clothing had been saturated, and the wound seemed too sensitive and serious to treat with a first-aid medical kit.

"I've been in the wars before." Cain tried to soften the mood. Misery and depression were two emotions that were totally unneeded at the time.

***

Jameson had managed to wake the bridge crew, and had healed Connelly and Kreisbourg to a level that allowed them to begin repairs. Cain had dragged his way to the Captain's chair, to relieve the stress on his wounded knee, and Robertson had been laid down beside the tactical console with a metal splint attatched to his arm.

The engineering and tactical consoles let out a dim light. "I have restored partial power," Connelly said, "What should be the next course of action, sir?"

Cain shook his head subtely, but a smile soon crept to his face. He knew they would learn, and so would he. "Communications and sensors would be the first priority, along with life support."

Connelly nodded, and her hands began to tap on the keys of her console.

***

16 hours had passed, and though it was a painful and nervous time for the crew, it was well spent. Life support was working at minimum, providing just enough heat and air, and the sensors had been restored by the collective efforts of the engineers and Stellar Cartographers. Apparently, the ship had crashed beside a section of caves and underground tunnels laced with trilithium. According to Kreisbourg, that trilithium would be needed to restore the warp and impulse engines if ever the ship was to lift off.

Damage to the ship was extensive but not irrepairable. All engine systems had depleted their fuel; the phaser banks had been fused, so the two remaining photon torpedoes would be the only weapon; the turnolifts were generally in working order, which thankfully allowed medical teams to disperse throughout the Dreadnaught; finally, the communication systems had been almost totally destroyed, but thanks to ingenuity and quick-thinking, the crew had been able to send and recieve messages using a radio frequency rather than a subspace one.

"I didn't expect a flood of patients so soon, captain. I had expected a case or two of the flu or perhaps a stubbed toe, but not this! Not a flood of injured and dying, captain." The EMH - Emergency Medical Hologram - had a rude but not angered tone. He was a collection of photons and forcefields, but was programmed with thousands of medical procedures and conditions. Starfleet had promised this new design of Doctor to be a breakthrough in healthcare, but the damn hologram still had a lousy bedside manner.

"Sorry, doctor; next time I'll inform you of when the Maquis are going to ambush me," Cain replied, sitting on a biobed in the sick bay. He groaned in pain whenever his wound was healed by the dermal regenerator.

The EMH rolled his eyes at Cain's groaning. "Oh, come now, I'd say this is one of the lesser injuries I have seen, Captain. It's about as worse as the stubbed toe I expected."

"Sir, Lieutenant Kreisbourg requests a small, armed team to mine the trilithium in the caves," Jameson interrupted, in a more cheerful and agreeable modd than she had had during the briefing. "He promises it will take only an hour."

"Granted. But I'll be joining him," Cain replied.

The EMH looked shocked. "You must stay here for at least two more days!"

Cain grinned. "It's just a stubbed toe - as you put it - Doctor. I'll be fine." He stood.

Jameson too looked shocked. Having the captain on the mission would jeopoardize hers. "Maybe you should stay captain."

Cain looked at her, and before he could notice the malice and shock in her expression, she laughed. "-I am sure that our EMH would love your company," she joked sarcastically.

"You know," Cain replied, "I am glad you are a bridge officer. With tact like that, you'd make a lousy psychiatrist."

He and Jameson walked out the door, and accompanied Kreisbourg to look for the trilithium.

[DaBomb]

The team of twenty assembled on the transporter pad, and waited for Cain to arrive and accompany them. It was a puzzlement why he wished to come, but the crew's general opinion was that he was a hands-on captain, and wished to be in the thick of the action. Their captain arrived within a minute, walking confidently on his healed leg, and accepted the phaser rifle he was handed.

"Has the equipment been beamed down yet?" Cain asked, placing himself upon the transporter pad.

"Of course, captain. It is at the landing site." The transporter chief was a burly fellow with a grim look; perhaps one of his friends or relatives had died. Unfortunately, Cain had not enough time to check the obituaries yet, and so could offer no greivances to those who lost someone.

"Very good. Beam us down."

Being transported was always an experience; whether it was a good one depended on the person. There was a sudden rush of the colour blue, and an exhuberating feeling all over your body before you suddenly appeared at the transport destination. In this occasion, the said destination was a relatively flat land area surrounded totally by mountains or low, rocky hills. The environment was a drab, dour grey; it was a similar colour to the stormy sky above. Actually, the sky was nothing more than an ominous black cloud being lit only by the sudden flashes of lightening. In the distance was Dreadnaught, though it was difficult to see the damage done in the available light.

The twenty one crew, including Cain, flicked on their wrist-flashlights and crept cautiously inside the cave in front. Five of the crewmen, including Kreisbourg, had taken the cases of mining equpiment from the landing site, and were busy cutting through the cave walls in search of the trilithium compoud buried inside.

"Quickly now, Lieutenant Commander," Cain urged. He knew that his badgering would make no time difference, but it helped him fell like he was serving a purpose inside the caves.

Two crewmen patrolled the entrances to the cave, while the others scanned for unfriendly life forms. Beridia two was inhabited only by Maquis, and Cain knew that people fought harder on their own ground.

[DaBomb]

Kreisbourg's scanning tricorder flashed and bleeped as the said Bridge officer took readings of the nearby area. Suddenly he turned to Captain Cain with a grim, and nervous look.

"I've picked up several Maquis," he hissed, "Seventeen humans, twelve Bajorans, two Bolians and a Betazoid."

Cain stod beside the miners as their equipment buzzed and sent blue sparks flying. This was unfortunately the only way to mine trilithium, and would take at least another ten minutes to fully complete.

"Damn," Cain muttered, "Distance from us?"

Kreisbourg glanced at the tricorder before replying. "60 metres...and closing. It looks like they have located us."

"Fine. Set up the force fields."

Kreisbourg nodded, and walked over to the end of the cave, where a massive cavern appeared, almost pitch black, and crawling with Maquis. He set down a small, glowing device approximately a metre long and another several feet beside it. He activated both of the beacons, and immediately a force field crackled into place between the beacons. It would not take long for Phaser rifles to break through the field, but at least it would buy the mining crew some time.

Kreisbourg stayed beside the force field, his phaser at the ready, while Crewmen Bridge and Morrisson moved in behind.

"I just need a few more minutes..." thr mining engineer whispered. Cain nodded before taking out his phaser.

"They're getting closer," Kreisbourg called, "I've got signals and readings all over! You'd better hurry!"

"Come on! We can take them!" Bridge exclaimed.

"Twenty metres," Kreisbourg informed, "Fifteen....ten...."

Cain rushed over to the force field that seperated the maquis from the Federation crew. "Draw your phasers everyone! Set them to maximum stun!"

His crew adjusted their weapons, and waited for their enemy.

[DaBomb]

There was a sudden burst of light from Maquis weapons fire, and instantaneously the blue forcefield crackled and collapsed. The maquis, with their phaser rifles moved into position behind the numerous rocks in the cavern, and edged toward the Starfleet crew.

"What the" Kreisbourg uttered as the field collapsed.

"-did you configure it properly," Cain interrupted.

Kreisbourg nodded. "Yes. The Force field was perfect. They must know our standard phaser frequencies!"

An amber beam of light hit the nearby cane wall, and sent yellow sparks flying. Cain and his crew edged backward from the line of fire.

"Ready yourselves..." Cain ordered.

The maquis charged into the cave, and furious beams of light volleyed back and forth amidst cries of pain and nervous calls.

"Get the two flanking Bajorans!"

"Taking fire!"

"Fire at will!"

Cain rolled on the hard rock floor, avoiding a phaser shot, and blasted the nearmost Maquis with his hand phaser. The adversary collapsed, his body not harmed, but totally incapacitated. Another beam came his way, but narrowly missed his torso. He charged up to the second Maquis, and fired into his face.

"There are more! At least 30 more are coming!" Kreisbourg yelled.

"Bridge is down! Oh God, he's dead!"

The battle raged for only a few minutes. The Starfleet crew worked well to repel the majority of the maquis, but 6 of the crew had been killed within a first wave. And now Kreisbourg was saying there were 30 more opponent heading their way.

Cain took down another with a pot shot, but immediately staggered back in pain against the cave wall, a phaser beam having hit him in the arm. The wound bled, and the flesh burned, but Cain ignored the pain and rammed his fist into a Maquis Bolian.

"Mining team! Are you done!" Cain called.

"Yes!"

Cain fired another shot into the darkness of the cavern. "Kreisbourg! Jameson! We are leaving!"

The Starfleet crew bolted from the cave and into the open area. Only a kilometre away was the ship, but with 30 Maquis on their tail, such a distance would be treacharous and dangerous.

Cain tapped his communication badge. "Bridge! Beam us out!"

There was no reply.

"Bridge?" Cain repeated.

Jameson dashed to his side, after firing several shots. "They know our communications frequencies! They have set up a dampening field to block our messages!"

Cain growled, and fired at another Maquis.

Kreisbourg approached. "We could enter through the shuttle bay!"

Cain nodded, and the remnants of the landing party dashed toward the shuttle bay of the Dreadnaught, being follwed by phaser beams every step of the way.

***

Robertson sat in the Captain's chair, hoping that the attack by the Maquis would not result in casualties. He stared blankly at the viewscreen before Harris called to him.

"The Captain is by the shuttlebay," Harris said, "I'll open the doors. But there are 18 Maquis on their tail."

Robertson nodded to acknowledge, and waited as Cain clambered into the shuttlebay.

"Bridge? Bridge!" called called through his comm. badge, having made it back to the ship, "Are you there?"

Robertson tapped his comm. badge. "Yes, sir."

"Are the phasers back on line?" Cain asked.

"No sir," Robertson replied frankly, "They'll take days to repair."

***

The shields were slowly dropping due to the Maquis phaser fire from on the surface. The small, hand-held weapons did little damage, but the Maquis seemed to know the shield frequency, as well as the hull signature. With that knowledge, they could do a great deal of damage.

"Robertson, can we lift off?" Cain hissed, "We need to get out of here!"

"Shields are down," Ensign Connelly interrputed, "They're cutting through the hull!"

Robertson bit his lip. "No. We can't lift off for another 15 minutes."

Cain buried his face in his hands.

[DaBomb]

The ship was unable to escape the foes on the ground, nor retaliate. It was to be a slow, painful death for the Dreadnaught; the Maquis had already brought down the shield generator on the port side, and were cutting through the duterium hull as Cain struggled to think of an escape plan.

"Kreisbourg, call for six security teams to meet on transporter room two," Cain ordered, "And tell them to repel those maquis."

The Lieutenant Commander looked at him, surprised, but carried out the order. Those security teams would not make it out alive.

***

There were eighteen men that beamed to the surface in their yelow-and-black uniforms. They took cover behind the shards of hull from the Dreadnaught or rock formations, and began firing in unison at their adversaries. Several Maquis toppled, but they swiftly began to attack, charging at the Federation crew and killing them off with phaser bursts. The Maquis were losing more than those of Cain's crew, but within a few minutes of ducking, firing and flanking the Maquis had taken out almost all of the 18, but with heavy losses. The remaining Bolian and 2 humans belonging to the Maquis scurried off, but were soon replaced...

***

"Sir, there are more Maquis coming," Harris reported, "All holographic."

Cain clenched his fists. "Distance?"

"A few score metres. Our security teams have engaged them," Harris replied.

"Sir, if the Maquis know our phaser frequencies, those security teams down there won't be able to defend themselves," Connelly said.

Cain nodded. "I know. Are transporters operational?"

Kreisbourg shook his head. "No."

"What about the shuttlecraft transporters?" Cain shot back.

"There is no time, sir," Kreisbourg answered grimly, "The security teams have been subdued."

Cain shut his eyes for a moment, guilty and angered, while Kreisbourg's euphemism sank in. The security teams had not been subdued - they had been allowed to die.

The maquis holograms were edging closer on foot, and were ready to continue cutting through the ship's hull once in position.

"Harris," Cain asked, "Is there any way to get rid of those holograms? How can they exist outside with no holographic projectors?"

Harris tapped a few keys on his console, most likely searching for an answer before replying. "These holograms use an 'autonomous mobile emitter' to exist without projectors. If we destroy the emitters, we destroy them."

The phasers were gone, so that ruled out that, and the deflector dish was damaged. There had to be some way...

"Connelly, how many photon torpedoes do we have left?" Cain hissed, getting up from his chair.

"Five sir," Connelly said. Suddenly his intent bcame clear. "But...sir, a photon torpedo detonated near those holograms would cause severe damage."

Cain nodded. "That is our only recourse. We have minimal shields in most areas of the ship, and we can evacuate the decks in jeopoardy of the photon's explosion. Now, Harris, aim the torpedoes. Robertson, tell decks 3 through 5 to evacuate immediately."

***

Harris had confirmed a lock on the Maquis, and the crew on the lower decks had evacuated and sealed the emergency bulkheads. The plan was ready. It was time to move.

"Ensign Harris," Cain said, "Fire!"

A photon torpedo - which resembled a swirling mass of light and fire slammed into the nearby ground in front of the Dreadnaught, sending rubble in all directions and destroying every living thing on the surface. Cain's ship rocked and jolted due to the blast, and fires were reported on numerous decks. But they had survived.

Cain turned to Kreisbourg. "Lift us up, Lieutenant Commander as soon as you are ready."

"Aye."

Cain tapped his comm. badge, and opened a ship-wide frequency. "All hands, begin repairs on all vital systems, and take all injured crew to the sick bays. Seal any airlocks and create forcefields over any breaches in the hull. And...I would just like to thank you all. Your hard work and sacrifice will not be in vain. Captain...out."

[DaBomb]

It was a good half an hour before the mighty remnants of the Dreadnaught rose up from the rocky terrain of Beridia 2 and pulled away from the gravity of the said planet. Their first attempt had resulted in several conduits blowing out and a sudden power loss for 10 minutes, but after the engineers, under Kreisbourg's supervision, located the problem to a faulty gel pack, Cain was assured his ship would be able to lift off the next time.

And so, the ship groaned and shuderred, breaking free from the heavy rocks and twisted metal pieces that held them down, and finally it got back to its home in space. Now it was time for Cain to get back home; he had evidence, now, of Federation-Maquis trading, and had much to attend to on Earth.

Connelly looked up to her captain. "Sir, we will arrive in Sector 001 in approximately 12 hours."

Cain paused and thought to himself before answering. "I take it our warp drive is not in mint condition yet."

Connelly shook her head. "We can manage warp five."

"Very well then," Cain sighed, rising from his chair and heading for his quarters, "You have the bridge, Robertson."

***

Though he dearly wanted to clean up the mess the phaser fight and the crash landing had caused to his quarters, Cain was far too busy. Scattered over the carpeted floor os his quarters were random padds, holo-photographs of Earth and his friends, and ornaments from the said friends. One object he did find time to rummage through the mess for: it was a 19th centuary watch, given through his family like an heirloom for generations. The glass panel was cracked, but in his heart Cain could not replace it with a replicated piece of glass; that would ruin the ancient piece.

Cain sat at his desk, typed in his command codes into the laptop upon the desk and asked for all occurrences of hologram trading in the Federation.

"Computer, within the last month, has their been any trading of holograms with the Maquis by Starfleet?" Cain asked in a clear voice.

"Negative, the metallic, female voice replied. This human-computer interaction had always astounded Cain. After you took into account the slang terms, different expressions, multiple accents and different vocabulary of those who used this interaction, it was amazing how the computer could understand you.

"How about in this past year?"

"Negative," the computer instantly replied.

Cain huffed in exhaustion. "How about any Federation-Maquis trading?"

"Level 12 access codes required."

Cain gritted his teeth. "Level 12? That is for admiralty only!"

"Affirmative."

"Computer," Cain asked with renewed vigour, "Have any of your files been deleted over the past year?"

The computer whirred for a few seconds before answering. "Affirmative. 11, 547 files have been-"

"-no, no. Have any files - excluding holodeck creations, personal logs or any other useless rubbish - been deleted within the past 2 days?"

The computer paused again. "Affirmative. 7 files have been deleted. Two sensor records, one security breach record, one replicator file and three unauthorized communications have been deleted."

Cain was about to smile when he realized the gravity of the situation. Any member of this crew could be responsible; they could have given the Maquis the Dreadnaught's frequencies, replicated weapons and tampered with the computer itself, and then erase the evidence. "Computer, who deleted those files?"

"Unable to respond."

Cain stood. "What? Computer respond!"

"Level 12 access codes required."

Cain slammed his fist onto the table. "We'll see about that!"

[DaBomb]

Cain stormed from his untidy quarters and set off back to the bridge. He stepped into the turbolift, and the orange doors hissed behind him.

"Bridge," he said with irritation. He almost expected the computer to ask him for level 12 access codes. Fortunately, the turbolift complied instantly, and the lift hummed for a minute or so until it had reached the bridge.

Cain stepped over to Jameson. "Lieutenant, I understand you took an advanced course in computer-technology theory and development at the academy."

Jameson nodded.

"Good," Cain acknowledged, "So you are qualified to help me in recovering some...data?"

Jameson smiled half-heartedly. "Of course, captain. What is the situation?"

Cain explained to herthe stubborness of the computer, but left out his motives and the details. Jameson nodded, and tapped her bright console to look for any way to breach the security protocols locking Cain from the answers he desired.

"Cracking this won't be easy, captain," Jameson shrugged, "Starfleet has very tight security."

Cain clenched his fists. "But not tight enough to prevent hundreds of holograms being taken to the Maquis," he sneered. "But do you have any ideas on how to break that security barrier? It is a matter of Federation security."

Jameson worked diligently for a few seconds before her answer: "No, sir. Some of the computer-memory relays have been fused, so we can't extract the information directly from the memory. The codes appear to be voice-encrypted, so we would need the actual voice of the Admiral who locked up that information to override the security barrier."

"But there aren't any Admirals aboard!" Cain burst. The crew on the bridge began to stare. "I'll...I'll ne in my quarters. Jameson, your top priority is to get me that data. The rest of you, continue repairs."

***

The helm officer plotted the course, and awaited Captain Marley's order to engage. Their ship, the Visionary, had been ordered to intercept the Dreadnaught and escort the battle-wounded ship back to Earth. It would take a day to reach Captain Cain's ship, but hopefully if the latter complied with Admiral Nolan's orders, everything would go smoothly. If Cain didn't, then Marley had orders to fire if needed.

[DaBomb]

Jameson tapped in several codes, and with help from the Maquis EMH, she was able to contact Nolan for at least a few minutes totally undetected. Or at least she hoped.

Nolan: Lieutenant, I have been expecting you...

Jameson: Cain is getting closer. He has discovered the deleted files, and it is only a matter of time before he finds the hologram!

Nolan: Don't worry. Cain may be on our trail, but he is certainly not going to discover us anytime soon. That is, of course, if my best agent has been following my orders....

Jameson: I have. But they found the gel pack too, and have removed it.

Nolan: You haven't destroyed the evidence yet? I thought I told you-

Jameson: -I will tonight.

Nolan: You had better, Jekri, because that gel pack can be scanned, and the tampering to it will be traced to you!

Jameson: I have it covered, sir. The gel pack is being stored in stasis unit twelve, with a level-two forcefield protecting it.

Nolan: Stasis unit? So it is in sick bay?

Jameson: Yes. And I am sure our EMH will be pleased to help. Your modifications have worked without a flaw.

Nolan: I just hope my agents will work as flawlessly, Jameson. You have your orders. Nolan out.

[DaBomb]

Inside sick bay were Cain, Kreisbourg, a security team and the EMH. The door had been shut tight, and the Dreadnaught's engineers were preventing the treacharous hologram from transferring to another area of the ship.

Cain: It is painfully obvious that the treachary on this ship runs deep. The changing loyalties that I have witnessed are as astounding as they are disturbing. And you, one of the most trusted and important pieces of technology we have, is at the heart of it all.

EMH: Captain, I have no idea what you are talking about.

Cain: I found it strange that we would have an Emergency Medical Hologram Version 1 aboard, when there are more updated versions of your program.

EMH: I was a surplus part of the garbage scow Copernicus. Starfleet could no upload a more advanced hologram at the time.

Cain: And whose orders were those? Who re-programmed you? Whose access codes do you posess? Who have you been taking orders from?

EMH: Captain, I-

Cain: Don't toy with me you outdated waste of ship's power. I want answers.

EMH: Waste of ship's power? Captain, you are most certainly-

Cain: -doctor, I am going to get those answers out of you one way or another. Either you comply, and I simply de-activate you, or a decompile your matrix and forceibly remove the answers from you.

EMH (Smiling) Are guess you are not as ill-informed as I was lead to believe, Captain. You are correct in saying that I have been working against you, but under orders. And as for your threat of decompilation, I doubt Ensign Carsely would allow such a crime.

Cain spun around to the aforementioned crew member, but it was too late. The Ensign raised his phaser rifle, and blasted the nearest crewman. He fired again, this time at Kreisbourg, while the EMH ducked under cover and began to tamper with the environmental controls. He was busy filling the sick bay with metryon gas - a substance that he was impervoius to - when Cain shot the control panel he was working on.

Cain: (Aiming at the EMH) Carsley has been subdued. The game is over. Now I want answers.

EMH: You are in no situation to make demands, Captain.

Cain: (Coughing heavily) Metryon...

EMH: Yes. It is very fast working, though terribly unpleasant.

Cain: (Falling limply to the ground) ...you will pay...

Cain was able to keep his eyes open for only a few seconds before the the purple gas surrounded him, and then he knew no more.

[DaBomb]

When he awoke his head thumped with every hearbeat and his eyes were blurry for some time. When his vision cleared, he found several figures above him. The first was the Doctor, who was blathering about his bravery; the second was Carsley, who was inputting the Dreadnaught's shield frequencies into the computer; finally, there was Jameson, who was sending a message to another ship.

Though his muscles burned and ached, he sat up slowly and quietly, and grabbed the hyposprays on the tray beside. Hopefully whatever was in the sprays would incapacitate the humans.

Cain rushed to his feet, ran toward the group of traitors and raised the hyposprays. He grabbed Carsely first, and threw him to the ground. The surprised security officer went down quickly after Cain sprayed a full dosage of anaprobaline into his system. Jameson whirled around, as did the doctor, and advanced on their captain.

"I should have known," Cain hissed, keeping his distance, "I suggest you give up before my crew - my real crew - overpowers your Maquis friends."

Jameson kept her hand on her phaser, but did not raise it. "Doctor, you said that metryon would keep him down for an hour," she exclaimed, keeping her eyes fixed on Cain.

"You deleted most of my medical files in order to encompass my new...directives. I could only estimate how long he would be down for," the EMH replied casually, "Though I must say, I enjoy saving an opressed people rather than curing their opressors in the confines of this sickbay."

Cain rushed forward, ready to inject Jameson, but she was too fast. She drew her phaser from her hip and raised it to his chest. Cain stopped, knowing the phaser was set to kill.

"Please, Captain. Try to keep your violent urges to yourself."

The EMH tapped several commands into the console, and both he and Jameson dematerialized.

[DaBomb]

Captain Marley stood on the bridge of the Visionary, watching the scalded, battered remnants of the Dreadnaught approach them at low impulse before the broad visage of Commander Robertson appeared on the screen.

Mayley craned his neck to his tactical officer. "Put them in a tractor beam," he ordered before returning his gaze back to Robertson. On the screen he could see the Dreadnaught jolt slightly, no doubt due to the tractor beam.

"Captain, what are you doing? Release us from tow!" young Robertson demanded.

"You are in no position to make demands, Commander. I outrank you," Marley sneered.

"But you don't me!" The voice of Cain, who had strolled just seconds ago onto the bridge was hard yet weary. "My hologram and Lieutenant Jameson beamed aboard your ship. Please be advised that they are criminals, and should be placed back into my custody."

Marley grinned. "No, Captain. They will be dealt with - by me - appropriately, as per my orders."

"Whose orders?" Cain shot back. Marley did not answer. "Release my ship at once."

"I am sorry, Captain," Marley replied sarcastically, "I really am. But I am forced to relieve you of Command for the time being. Please relinquish your ship peacefully."

"Why?"

"Orders, Captain. I have my orders, and you have yours."

Cain clenched his fists. "I refuse. You have captured a Federation ship, have relived me of Command for no reason and are now harbouring two traitors. I see quite clearly that your loyalties do not lie with Starfleet. They lie with the Maquis."

Marley looked unsurprised. "No, Captain, my heart is dearly with Starfleet. But is yours? You believe the Maquis are renegades acting illegally and inappropriately. You believe they are a minority that should be squashed."

Cain nodded. "Damn right. And I'll be the one to do it."

"But then you must see that you have become your enemy," Marley observed "You are now the minority, who is acting against Federation law. In my opinion, you have comandeered a Federation ship, and have harmed its crew. It is you who will be squashed."

Cain slammed his fist onto the control panel beside his chair and the screen switched off. For a moment he sat, frozen, as he digested the words of Marley. On many counts, that Captain was true. How could Cain justify his actions, yet punish those who would make the same choices? He was acting like a member of the Maquis, not a Starfleet Captain. Who was he to deny orders? What right did he have to squash the Maquis? His only answer was that it would be best for the Quadrant. Helping the Maquis would most definitely cause a massive war among the superpowers. He wouldn't let that happen.

Cain stood. "I am about to disobey my orders...once again. Any who do not wish to participate or who object will be relived and noted in my logs respectively. All who stay should know that they will have earned my trust, and they will prevent a quadrant wide war. Do I make myself clear?"

None left the bridge. None objected. Cain would have smiled knowing that his bridge crew were along with him, but he glanced over Jameson's empty console.


"Fine. Thankyou all," Cain said, "Now, Harris, raise shields and power the weapons. Connelly, prepare for evasion pattern Cain Beta-Foxtrot-Omega. All hands, battlestations."

[DaBomb]

The Dreadnaught was massive, spanning 200 metres in length, but it's sleek, swan-like shape allowed for nuch maneuverability. On the other hand, the Visionary was a sluggish and bland vessel, but a vessel that was in much better condition. The Dreadnaught thrusted to the left, avoiding on orange phaser burst, yawed to avoid another, and then quickly whirled around to meet the Visionary head on. Phaser volleys puonded back and forth, ploughing through shielding and jolting both vessels.

***

"Shields at 24 percent!" Harris cried over the sound of the bleeping klaxons.

"They're targeting our port nacell!" Connely informed instantaneously.

Cain rose from his chair, watching the bulky vessel on the screen. "Come about. Aim for his weapons array."

***

The phaser fire from the Dreadnaught was damaging and would usually bring down an enemy within minutes. Fortunately for Marley, who stood determined on his bridge, he knew their phaser frequencies, and were taking very little damage.

"Shield at 94 percent, Captain," the tactical officer cooly replied.

"Keep firing, Ensign. When their shields are down, beam over a boarding party and...apprehend the Captain," Marley replied.

***

The white gas from ruptured piping sprayed in Cain's face, forcing him to cough heavily and rub his stingin eyes. The ship continued to jolt as Marley continued to pummel the Dreadnaught with quantum torpedoes and phasers. Connely's hands deftly danced over her helm station, attempting to outmaneuvre the enemy craft; though she did dodge a torpedo or two occasionally, it was obvious the Dreadnaught was losing this fight.

"Shields at ten percent!"

"We've lost warp drive!"

Cain shook his head. "Open a hailing frequency," he muttered, "I want to speak to Marley."

***

The bridge of the Dreadnaught, or at least the area that the viewscreen displayed, was littered with wreckage, thick smoke and many desperate cries. The face of Captain Cain appeared on the screen, and Marley felt victory in his heart.

"Shall we discuss terms of surrender, Captain?" Marley chuckled.

Cain gritted his teeth. "Can't you see what you are diong? You are firing on a friendly vessel!"

Marley smiled. "So have you. And I am abiding by Starfleet orders. You, on the other hand, are acting like a desperate and terribly pathetic criminal. If you surrender immediately, I promise you will not be placed in a correctional facility." Marley knew his stubborn counterpart would not agree, but dong so was satisfying. Watching Cain struggle vainly was highly amusing.

"No. But if you stop this attack, I will share all information I have about the Federation traitors!" Cain fired back.

"You are the only traitor here, Captain," Marley sneered, "This is your last chance to surrender."

The viewscreen switched off, and the comm link was severed.

***

By now Cain was searching for any means to incapacitate the Visionary before he lost his ship. The Federation as he knew it relied on his victory, and he would not ruin the peaceful organization he loved. Even if it meant firing on another Starlfeet vessel.

Cain rubbed his chin. "Ensign Harris, do we have any more photon torpedoes?"

The tactical officer looked surprised. "Yes...but the launchers have been fused. We can't fire any."

Cain nodded. "I know. But how many do we have?"

"Sixteen."

A grin beamed on the Captain's face. "Wonderful. That will be enough for my plan."

The crew looked at him.

Cain took in a deep, relaxing breath, before continuing. "If we send out every shuttlecraft we have at this point, they can draw some of the enemy fire and inflict more damage."

Kreisbourg's mouth dropped. "The shuttlecraft will barely last a minute!"

"Yes, yes," Cain acknowledged, "But we can beam the pilots out before the crafts explode. Anyway, while the Visionary is distracted, we place a photon torpedo in each shuttlebay. Then, we decompress the shuttlebays, and the torpedoes are pushed out." Some of the crew began to understand. Cain decided it best to elaborate. "These inactive torpedoes will explode if hit by a ship. So, we lay a pah of these torpedoes, have the shuttles force the Visionary into the path of the aforementioned explosives and..."

"Landmines!" Robertson interrputed.

"Or rather, space mines," Connely said.

"Preciesly! Now let's get to work!"

[DaBomb]

The shuttles bravely left the metal walls of the hangar, and began to surround the other Federation ship, the Visionary. Orange phasers screamed across space, rocking both ships, while the photon torpedoes were loaded into the shuttlebays of the Dreadnaught.

"Shields are 12 percent!" Harris cried, "We can't take mcu more of this!"

Kreisbourg looked up at his captain with morbid sadness. "Two shuttlecraft have exploded. Once is damaged beyond repair. The rest are regrouping."

Cain swallowed hard. He tapped his communicator bagde, and an icy knot formed in his stomach. "Transporter room, did you beam the crew of the destroyed shuttles back?"

"Out of the eight," the comm. badge crackled, "We got three."

Cain slammed his hand down onto the arm of his chair. He didn't care to keep a cool head in front of his crew now. "Connelly, slow to 1/3 impulse power. I want to be going slower than they are," Cain barked, "Harris, tell the shuttles to retreat immediately. And Kreisbourg..." Cain focussed himself before continuing, "Assist the wounded in sick bay. I understand you have medical training."

The engineer nodded, and set off for the sickbay.

"Shields at four percent!" Harris shouted.

"The Visionary is gaining! 300 metres and closing!" Connely chimed in.

Cain paused for a moment, until the Visionary came closer. "Connelly, all stop! Robertson, decompress the shuttlebays. Prepare to go to warp!"

***

The unknowing Visionary moved closer to its adversary and the torpedoes, firing photons relentlessly. Metal debris from several decks of the Dreadnaught scraped the hull of Marley's ship.

***

"Connelly, go to warp!" shouted Cain. The ensign punched the commands into her console, and suddenly the stars on the viewscreen became streaks of brilliant light. After only a few seconds, Cain gave the order to stop. "How far are we from the Visionary?" Cain asked.

"12, 000 kilometres," Connelly replied, "They have hit the torpedo mines."

***

The Visionary shuddered, knocking many of the crew to the floor. Marley lifted himself up, his head spinning, and managed to ask, "What happened?"

There was no response from the helm. He looked over to see the officer lying limply on the ground, his face burned and blood ebbing from facial wounds. Marley took his station without a word.

"What? I see nothing!" Marley muttered to himself, "What is happening?"

The tactical officer intervened. "From the looks of it, I would say we are being hit by torpedoes."

Marley pondered for a minute. "Dammit! We couldn't detect Cain's torpedoes because they have no power! Reconfigure the sensors, and prepare to fire."